The morrow came, but with it no answer to the King's "word." The day
was spent by the Bakoni in sending forth scouting parties to look for
the rumoured enemy, but these returned bearing no further news, and the
chiefs and people of this doomed race felt safer than ever.
No council was convened in the evening and now, feeling sure that no
answer was intended, I sent an angry message to Tauane, saying that I
would give him till the middle of the following day, and that unless I
had his reply by then I should depart; that his chance of safety would
have gone by, and that when next he saw me it would be in the forefront
of the destroyers.
We did not sleep much that night, my brother and I. We feared even to
eat the food supplied to us until we had first caused one of our slaves
to partake freely of it. We talked together in a low voice and made our
plans.
Morning dawned. We stepped outside our hut, and, lo! all things looked
as usual. Women were passing to their ordinary work. Cattle were being
milked--those fine blue cattle of which these people were so fond.
Young men lounged about, scarcely armed, laughing with the girls, and
old men sat taking snuff and chattering. As we stood before our door,
their attention was drawn to us, though their remarks were uttered too
low for us to catch.
"Of a truth, some of these Bakoni maidens are good to look upon!"
murmured my brother, as a string of girls, calabash on head, stepped by.
"Peace, boy," I answered sternly. "What have we to do with such, we who
bear the `word' of the King?"
Taking a rod, I planted it upright in the earth. We stood watching it;
but no message came from the Chief of the Blue Cattle. The shadow
thrown out by the rod was now scarcely twice the length of a man's
finger. Then I directed Mgwali to cause our four slaves to gather
together their loads, for the time for departure had arrived. Only
three, however, appeared. The fourth was not to be found. Clearly he
had deserted. This looked badly.
The sun had reached his highest. The rod which I had planted in the
earth cast no shadow now.
At a word from me we stepped forth, my brother and I together, the three
remaining slaves but a few paces behind. As we passed through the town
we noticed some of those strange-looking stone walls we had seen on our
first arrival. These were about the height of a man's head--though, in
places, higher--and were built in a round formation, seeming to encircle
a second enclosure. We noticed just then that the outer wall was
entered by a narrow opening just wide enough to admit the body of a man.
But now all our attention was turned upon ourselves, for we were
suddenly encompassed by a crowd of armed Bakoni. These, flourishing
their weapons, ordered us, in angry and jeering tones, to return to the
hut we had occupied. Oh, those fools, who thought to dictate orders to
the second _induna_ of the army of the Great King!
We did not even halt; but, instead of assailing us, a number of them
rushed upon our slaves, and speared them under our eyes. _Haul_ they
fell, those unfortunate Amaholi, simply cut into strips. What happened
then, _Nkose_, I scarcely knew. I saw red. We both "saw red." The
thunder of our fierce war shout frightened them as though it was the
roar of a lion in their midst. I heard and felt the hiss of the King's
Assegai as it rushed through the body of the warrior nearest to me,
splitting it nigh in twain. Then, as a buffet from my great shield sent
another staggering, he, too, was devoured by the dark-handled spear.
_Whau, Nkose_! I know not how many we slew. Leaping hither and
thither, roaring like lions, we hewed our way; yet we were but two, and
they were hundreds. They yielded before us, only to close up again
immediately. _Au_! they had never seen Zulus in battle before. But
even Zulus, being but two, cannot go on fighting all day against the
might of a whole nation, and surrounded on all sides. We might kill a
number, but our death was certain at last.
Now, of death we thought not at all, for in battle it is not our custom
to think of aught beyond how many enemies we could kill. But to me came
the thought that I would like to live, if only to assist in destroying
the whole of this den of jackals. And I saw the means of attaining to
that purpose.
"The wall, Mgwali!" I cried. "Through them--to the wall! We can hold
that. It is our only chance."
I spoke in Zulu, which they understood not. During the conflict we had
been drawing nearer and nearer to the wall. Now, as we turned to face
it, we were confronted by a double line of Bakoni. Their shields and
spears were ready. We could not hope to break through them.
"Leap, Mgwali, leap!" I growled, feeling the searing burn of a spear
blade grazing my shoulder. Covered by our shields, we gathered our legs
under us, and leaped. _Au_! we could leap in those days. Right over
the heads of the lines of our foes we flew, and immediately, and before
they had time to recover their amaze, we had gained the shelter of the
stone walls.
Not too soon, though, for we had only just time to turn and receive
them, as a crowd of our enemies flung themselves against the opening.
Then the King's Assegai had meat to eat. _Au_! in a moment the opening
was so filled up with bodies that they alone formed a defence; and, as I
have said, the opening was narrow, and would only admit one man at a
time.
The Bakoni fell back, yelling shrilly in their rage. We two were
covered with blood from head to foot, and our spears were dripping. My
brother had a deep spear-cut in his leg, from which the blood was
welling in a manner I did not like. Both of us had other wounds, but
slight, though a blow from an axe, which had been hurled at me, and
which I had just warded off my ear, catching it on the elbow, had come
near disabling my right arm. We put our heads above the wall and
laughed at our cowardly enemies.
"Ha! dogs--jackals!" I cried. "Have you fought enough? We have not.
Come now, and have some more. We are but two, you are a nation. Does
the whole nation of the People of the Blue Cattle fear two men? What
then will it do before the hosts of the Great King?"
And we took snuff, laughing loudly at this army of cowards, who dared
not come within a certain distance of us.
"Wait there, black baboons! You are in a trap, ringed ape!" they cried,
jeering at our darker colour. "You are trapped, like the _tshukuru_ in
the pit. We will spear you at our ease!" And a few assegais came
whistling past our heads.
[Note: tshukuru means Rhinoceros.]
Then they hurled their spears up straight in the air, so they should
fall back on our heads. But we only made houses of our shields, and
laughed louder than ever, as the spears came down, "zip--zip," like
hailstones on the roof of a hut. We returned them to their owners, too,
for we taught them that Zulu warriors, when it came to spear-throwing,
had nothing to learn from any other race. This drove them back yet
further, and we sat and rested, and sang the war-song of the King.
Our plan was to remain there until dark, then to make a dash through
their lines, and this we had little fear of failing to accomplish,
wherefore we felt no great concern now. But what puzzled us throughout
was that Tauane should have treated the King's messengers with violence,
remembering how impressed he was upon our first visit to his country;
and not until afterwards did we learn the true reason, which was this.
During the time he had been in our midst, the slave who had deserted us
had learned that, great and formidable as our nation was, still it was a
fugitive nation--that behind it was a greater, from whose vengeance we
were fleeing. This he had imparted to Tauane, destroying in the minds
of that chief and his councillors the terror which our name and
appearance had at first inspired. A fleeing nation could not be a very
formidable one, they reasoned, looking around upon the wealth and
strength of their own settled and numerous people; and, accordingly,
they resolved to meet Umzilikazi's demands with quiet defiance,
detaining, meanwhile, the persons of his messengers. Ah! they little
knew, those poor fools--they little knew!
Time went by, and, secure behind our stone walls, we felt as though we
should like to go to sleep. But we dared not do this--at any rate, not
more than one of us at a time. We saw the people gathering, till it
seemed that we were beleaguered by the whole Bakoni nation. To those
who had first assailed us came other companies of warriors; and behind
them women and children, all gazing eagerly at the "two black baboons,"
as they called us, in a trap. Then a new move seemed to be taking place
among them. A number of people were staggering under huge loads of
reeds and dry bushes. We started up eagerly, for now we saw their plan.
They intended to burn us out.
A wild yell of delight went up from the whole assembly as these loads of
combustibles were borne forward from all sides. We had no means of
stopping them. We had hurled back, generally with effect, nearly all
the assegais which had been thrown inside the walls; besides, even had
we not done so, the bodies of those who approached were so hidden by the
loads they bore or pushed before them that they were quite shielded.
Amid yells and shrieks of laughter the burdens were placed in a ring,
close up against the walls, while more were fetched. It seemed that we
were, indeed, as these dogs had said, like trapped rhinoceros.
The walls were of hard stone, and, of course, would not burn. But the
mass of that flaming, glowing stuff was so enormous that the heat and
smoke would be enough to smother us many times over. We took counsel
together, and thought hard.
As I said before, _Nkose_, the construction of these walls was that of
an inclosure within an inclosure, even like the plan of our own kraals.
The centre space, ringed round by the outer wall, was large enough to
contain perhaps threescore men, not standing very close together; the
outer ring was only wide enough to allow one to stand at a time. There
was just a single chance of escape.
The outside wall was now surrounded by a high fence of dry stuff--higher
than a man's head; and, amid a roar of delight from the thousands who
were watching, we saw blue columns of smoke curling up from the circle
all round. At the same time red tongues of flame shot forth, crackling
shrilly as they licked among the dry thorns and grass. In a moment the
heat became unbearable, engirdled, as we were, within a ring of flame;
and the dense, choking volumes of smoke swept in upon us, blinding us
completely.
"If we would not see the end of our lives, we must get within the inner
wall, son of my father," I said.
Mgwali uttered not a word. A great cloud of smoke beat down upon us,
and, taking advantage of its folds, we climbed over the inner wall. As
we did so the smoke-cloud parted, and in the flash of a glance we could
see that the place was surrounded by a dense belt of Bakoni warriors,
many ranks deep, watching the place in motionless attention, their
spears and axes ready for us when we should attempt to break through, as
they were sure we must. No; there was no escape that way.
Once within the inner wall, we found we could breathe more freely. The
smoke rolled in its thick, choking fumes, but by crouching low to the
ground we could still find air; but what air there was we knew was
going: our senses were going, our heads grew hot, and our brain was
throbbing as though to burst. Then there came for the first time a
faint puff of air, followed by another less faint. We could see the sky
above. The wind was rising. The smoke-clouds were dispersing. From
that peril we were saved.
And now, as we crouched low in our place of refuge, it seemed to us that
the voices of the multitude without had taken a different tone. We
listened with wide ears. There was a hurrying to and fro of thousands
of feet--of eager feet, of frightened feet. Then, raising our heads
cautiously above the top of the wall, we peered forth.
The place was still engirdled by a ring of smouldering, glowing ashes,
the heat from whose red caverns almost blinded us at first. The smoke
had nearly all dispersed, and the whole of the plain stood revealed to
our gaze. But the dense belt of armed warriors which we had last seen
encompassing us had broken up, and its attention was but little given to
us at all.
Every eye was bent upon the distant sky-line, which was bordered by a
range of hills. From these the dust was now whirling in clouds,
sweeping on rapidly towards us--nearer and nearer--and behind it still,
black columns of smoke were mounting to the heavens. Our hearts were
ready to burst with wild delight, for well did we know the meaning of
this. But our enemies gazed upon it in blank and chill dismay, with
hearts turned to water; for its meaning they, too, began to read, as was
made clear by the wild hubbub of voices, some panic-stricken, but all
eager, all excited. Then, with shrill shrieks, the women and children
took flight in every direction.
On whirled the great dust-clouds, spreading over the plain afar on
either hand, and through them appeared the tossing heads and horns of
thousands and thousands of cattle, the sleek blue-coloured herds of the
Bakoni. The ground rumbled like approaching thunder beneath their
furious hoofs as they streamed madly forward. And behind them now was
visible something else--a vast array of naked figures and of tufted
shields, the blue gleam of wavy lines of spears. Regardless now of the
danger from those around, we sprang on the wall and danced and shouted,
jeering at those who just now were threatening us--the strength of a
nation against two men!
"Ho, dogs! jackals! cowards!" we cried. "Flee now to your burrows.
Yonder is the army of the Great King--the hand of the Great Great One,
stretched forth to avenge his messengers."
The immense herd of cattle had now divided, and was streaming off in the
distance to right and to left, leaving in its place that mighty array of
the conquerors of the world sweeping forward upon this doomed people who
had been mad enough to defy their wrath.
"Ho, Tauane! young lion!" I shouted, as the chief passed close beneath.
"Yonder is the lion whose roar is the loudest. Go, tell him what has
been your treatment of his messengers."
The chief heard, but made no answer as he hurried away, and we could see
him and his war-captains disposing their warriors in battle array. And,
indeed, they made a brave show, being more numerous than our own, and as
well armed. But who can withstand the rush of the Zulu lion?
From our high position we could take in the whole of that battle.
Battle, did I say? It can hardly be called a battle. In spite of the
dense and well-armed array confronting them, our warriors did not even
slacken their pace. Coming on at a swift but steady run, covered with
their great shields, their heads bent slightly forward, their eyes
glaring like red coals, the air thrilling with their fierce war-whistle
or hiss, as it really was, the aspect of the King's host was so terrific
that the Bakoni, for all their numbers, began to hesitate and look
wildly around, thinking of flight. But no time was allowed them even
for this. Our people were upon them. The crash of shields was as the
thunder of the storm-driven billow striking the shore. Whole lines went
down, and, pouring over them, the warriors of the Great King delayed not
a moment. The Bakoni could not stand a second time. Their battle rank
was broken--rolled up as one might roll up a newly-stripped hide. With
wild, shrill shrieks of despair they turned and fled headlong.
Then the roar that went up from the ranks of our warriors was as the
roar of an army of lions. Fleet-footed, they pressed on the disordered
masses of the flying foe, hewing them down like corn, yet still
preserving their own order of battle. The panic which had seized upon
the Bakoni was complete. They were slaughtered as they fell,
slaughtered like stricken sheep, and over them poured the destroying
lines of their devourers--slaying ever, slaying and slaying--showing no
mercy; for these people had rejected the King's mercy with scorn and
insult. The day of mercy was now past.