"The sorceress--let her be sent for."
I gave the order to those without, and soon the door of the hut was
darkened and Lalusini entered.
"See, thou witch," said the King, pointing at her with his spear, "I am
minded to slay thee, for now I know whose wizardry has brought the enemy
to our gates what time the half of our fighting force is away. Thus,
then, was thy flight turned to account after the Bakoni were eaten up."
But there was no trace of fear in Lalusini's eyes as she gazed upon the
terrible threatening countenance which to any of us would have seemed to
bring death very near--only a slight look of wonder.
"Is it for this I have saved the life of a King--the life of a nation?"
she said, her clear sweet tones firm and without a tremor: "I would ask
the Great Great One--what started Untuswa from his sleep? A voice of
warning? Would the warriors of Dingane have spared him, think you, had
they come upon him slumbering? How did they mistake him for Mhlangana,
and thus fill his ears with their plans? Was it not because of the
shield--the royal shield--the white shield? And how did he escape from
them to carry hither the word of warning? The blackness of the moon,
was it not? And the shield? Who warned him not to part from it day or
night _until after the blackness of the moon? Au_! In a word, who
predicted all these things, in warning? and have they not come to pass?
Now, son of Matyobane, say. Am I to die?"
She stood, drawn proudly up, and her tone had been that of rebuke. And
such is a terrible one to adopt towards him whose word summons the
slayers.
"Hearken, my sister," said Umzilikazi, now speaking softly. "Thy words
are not without truth and reason, yet I trust thee not over-much, being
of the blood of those who come against us. Thou art great at making
_muti_. Now, in the battle before us, the odds against us are heavy.
If thy _muti_ wins us this battle, then thou shalt dwell in great honour
and obtain any wish thou shalt express. If we lose it, thou shalt die,
and die hard, as the worst sort of witches die."
"And is this the word of the King?" said Lalusini, a smile gleaming in
her great lustrous eyes.
"Such is my word, sister, and my word never fails; else had Untuswa not
been seated here this day."
"I hear the King, and am glad," she answered. "My word, too, never
fails--I, a daughter of the House of Senzangakona. You shall win in
this battle, son of Matyobane, shall win it through my _muti_. Is it
permitted that I go now and prepare the same?"
"Go, and may it be well for thee and for us," said Umzilikazi.
When she had gone forth the King sent for old Masuka.
"The might of Dingane is at our gates, my father," he said. "Shall the
victory be ours?"
"_Ou_! Who may say for certain, and time has not been given me to look
into the future, lord? Yet the white shield--the white shield. Twice
already hath its efficacy been great. It has guarded the life of a
King, also that of a nation."
"The white shield!" repeated Umzilikazi, in vexation. "Are ye all in
league, vultures of _izanusi_? When I ask for an omen, for a glance
into the future, ye all croak about a white shield. Go now, old man,
and make thy _muti_, for the army must be doctored before set of sun."
Masuka saluted and crept out. Then being restless, the King rose and
followed. In the gate of the _isigodhlo_ stood the white priest,
desiring speech with the King.
"Ha! Yet another magic-maker," growled Umzilikazi. "Say now, talker
with the spirits of the air, will thy sacrifices aid us against the
might of Dingane, for they who come against us number more fighters than
ourselves, Kalipe being still absent?"
"I had heard that, O King," said the white man. "To no magic do I
pretend, yet it may be that the Great One whom I serve will remember in
its hour of need the nation which has received with kindness the
humblest of His servants."
"Ha! I think they who come against us would not so have received thee,
my father," replied Umzilikazi, somewhat impatiently. "Yet practice, I
pray thee, thy mystic rites on our behalf, for with this foe at our
gates we need all the aids we can get--whether of sorcery or not."
"That I will gladly do, O King," replied the white priest. And as he
saluted and turned away, I noticed that he looked ill and tired--perhaps
through over-much journeying. But soon we saw certain of the slaves
entering the dwelling which he kept for his sacred rites, and heard the
tinkle of the little bell, and now and again the soft murmur of the
white sorcerer's voice.
"Now, Untuswa, I think we have enough _muti_ of one kind or another,"
said the King. "Go, therefore, and muster the fighters who wait
without."
It must not be supposed all this time, _Nkose_, that nothing was being
done. I had sent forth, ordering every regiment to repair immediately
to headquarters, and every man who had been enrolled, or who was capable
of bearing arms, to assemble without a moment's waste of time. Further,
I had ordered the establishment of chains of scouts and runners to watch
and swiftly report any movement on the part of the foe, whom as yet none
had seen excepting myself. From all sides now, people were pouring--men
mostly--armed men in groups and bands streaming over the plain, all
converging on the great kraal, and among these, a compact cloud, huge
and dark, marched the splendid regiment of The Scorpions, nearly two
thousand strong, young men mostly, and strangers to fear, of which I was
the chief commander. On they came, singing the war-song of Umzilikazi,
and, filing into Kwa'zingwenya, took up a position in a huge half-circle
within the great central space. These, occupying as they did a military
kraal of their own, were already fully armed, but others from without
were not, and as the latter swarmed in a rush was made upon the places
where the shields were kept. But a strong guard had been placed over
this, and soon the distribution was finished, and the shield-houses were
nearly emptied. Then all were doctored for war and proceeded to the
great plain outside to dance the war-dance.
The while, _Nkose_, I had my hands very full, for in the absence of
Kalipe I was the general in command, and, indeed, so great was my pride
in that position that I would rather risk disaster and defeat than be
once more put down to second again. But almost every moment my runners
were coming and going, yet not noisily and with fuss, but as though seen
by hardly any among us. So far everything had gone well. Mgwali and
his scouts had surprised and slain Mhlangana's outposts, so that none
had escaped, and had dragged the bodies far down the mountain on our
side, lest the vultures gathering in clouds should be visible to the
enemy and convey a warning. Of our men two had been killed and several
wounded, nor did this astonish me. No further move had been made by the
foe, who still lurked behind the forest belts of the flat country beyond
Inkume, little dreaming of the reception we were preparing for him.
Now, as I looked round upon the muster, I felt pride and joy in the host
I was to lead forth. The war spirit gleamed in every eye, and in the
restless twitching of the limbs of the warriors was a fiery impatience
to behold the enemy. None was a stranger to it. Even Ngubazana the
Gaza, coming out from helping the white _isanusi_ to perform his rites,
looked wistfully at the mustered legions, and upon his face came a
warrior light there was no mistaking.
"How now, son of a kindred race?" I said, for I was passing him at the
time. "I think this is not the first day thou hast seen warriors
mustered for battle."
"That is so, _induna_ of the regiment of Scorpions," he answered, with a
longing glance at my own especial fighting rank.
"I think, on such a day, thy place is among these, rather than acting as
_induna_ to a king of peace, Ngubazana," I said, somewhat mockingly.
"_Whau_! You are my father, Untuswa!" cried the Gaza, in a quick,
eager, suppressed voice, as though fearful of being overheard by some
one. "Give me a shield--give me a broad spear, that I may join them."
A great shout of laughter, of delight, broke from the warriors; and, at
a sign from me, some ran to the shield-house, so that in a moment
Ngubazana was fully armed.
"Thy follower is going to help us against Dingane, father," I cried
aloud to the white _isanusi_, who had just appeared. "_Whau_! This is
no time for thoughts of peace, but for deeds of war!"
"_Yeh-bo! Yeh-bo_!" chorused the regiment.
"Well, let him go," said the white priest, quite tranquilly, noting his
follower's hesitation. "Go, now, Ngubazana, and fight like a brave
soldier for the King who has sheltered and favoured us. Yet, shed no
more blood than is necessary, and slay none when already defenceless.
Show mercy, and spare. So, take my blessing with thee."
Now the first words filled all with great delight, but for the last,
_au_! We, who when we "see red" spare nothing that has life, how should
such words commend themselves to us? But we remembered that this was a
man whose business was peace.
So Ngubazana bent before the white _isanusi_, who blessed him with one
of his strange signs. Then he leaped with joy into the ranks of The
Scorpions, clutching his weapons, and humming to himself the war-song.