THE FALL OF THE GREAT PLACE
On the morrow at sundown all that remained of Thomas Owen was laid to
rest before the altar of the little church, Nodwengo the king and Hokosa
lowering him into the grave, while John, his first disciple, read over
him the burial service of the Christians, which it had been one of the
dead man’s last labours to translate into the language of the Amasuka.
Before the ceremony was finished, a soldier, carrying a spear in his
hand, pushed his way through the dense and weeping crowd, and having
saluted, whispered something into the ear of the king. Nodwengo started,
and, with a last look of farewell at the face of his friend, left the
chapel, accompanied by some of his generals who were present, muttering
to Hokosa that he was to follow when all was done. Accordingly, some
few minutes later, he went and was admitted into the Council Hut,
where captains and messengers were to be seen arriving and departing
continuously.
“Hokosa,” said the king, “you have dealt treacherously with me in the
past, but I believe now that your heart is true; at the least I follow
the commands of our dead master and trust you. Listen: the outposts have
sighted an _impi_ of many regiments advancing towards the Great Place,
though whether or no it be my own _impi_ returning victorious from the
war with my brother, I cannot say. There is this against it, however,
that a messenger has but just arrived reporting that the generals have
perceived the host of Hafela encamped upon a ridge over against the
gorge where they awaited him. If that be so, they can scarcely have
given him battle, for the messenger is swift of foot and has travelled
night and day. Yet how can this be the _impi_ of Hafela, who, say the
generals, is encamped upon the ridge?”
“He may have left the ridge, King, having been warned of the ambush.”
“It cannot be, for when the runner started his fires burned there and
his soldiers were gathered round them.”
“Then perhaps his captains sit upon the ridge with some portion of his
strength to deceive those who await him in the gorge; while, knowing
that here men are few, he himself swoops down on you with the main body
of his _impi_.”
“At least we shall learn presently,” answered the king; “but if it be
as I fear and we are outwitted, what is there that we can do against so
many?”
Now one of the captains proposed that they should stay where they were
and hold the place.
“It is too large,” answered the king, “they will burst the fences and
break our line.”
Another suggested that they should fly and, avoiding the regiments of
Hafela in the darkness of the night, should travel swiftly in search of
the main army that had been sent to lie in ambush.
“What,” said Nodwengo, “leaving the aged and the women and children to
perish, for how can we take such a multitude? No, I will have none of
this plan.”
Then Hokosa spoke. “King,” he said, “listen to my counsel: Command now
that all the women and the old men, taking with them such cattle and
food as are in the town, depart at once into the Valley of Death and
collect in the open space that lies beyond the Tree of Doom, near the
spring of water that is there. The valley is narrow and the cliffs are
steep, and it may chance that by the help of Heaven we shall be able to
hold it till the army returns to relieve us, to seek which messengers
must be sent at once with these tidings.”
“The plan is good,” said the king, though none had thought of it; “but
so we shall lose the town.”
“Towns can be rebuilt,” answered Hokosa, “but who may restore the lives
of men?”
As the words left his lips, a runner burst into the council, crying:
“King, the _impi_ is that of Hafela, and the prince heads it in person.
Already his outposts rest upon the Plain of Fire.”
Then Nodwengo rose and issued his orders, commanding that all the
ineffective population of the town, together with such food and cattle
as could be gathered, should retreat at once into the Valley of Death.
By this time the four or five thousand soldiers who were left in the
Great Place had been paraded on the open ground in front of the king’s
house, where they stood, still and silent, in the moonlight. Nodwengo
and the captains went out to them, and as they saw him come they lifted
their spears like one man, giving him the royal salute of “King!” He
held up his hand and addressed them.
“Soldiers,” he said, “we have been outwitted. My _impi_ is afar, and
that of Hafela is at our gates. Yonder in the valley, though we be
few, we can defend ourselves till succour reaches us, which already
messengers have gone out to seek. But first we must give time for the
women and children, the sick and the aged, to withdraw with food and
cattle; and this we can do in one way only, by keeping Hafela at bay
till they have passed the archway, all of them. Now, soldiers, for the
sake of your own lives, of your honour and of those you love, swear to
me, in the holy Name which we have been taught to worship, that you will
fight out this great fight without fear or faltering.”
“We swear it in the holy Name, and by your head, King,” roared the
regiments.
“Then victory is already ours,” answered Nodwengo. “Follow me, Children
of Fire!” and shaking his great spear, he led the way towards that
portion of the outer fence upon which Hafela was advancing.
By now the town behind them was a scene of almost indescribable tumult
and confusion, for the companies detailed to the task were clearing the
numberless huts of their occupants, and collecting women, children and
oxen in thousands, preparatory to driving them into the defile. Panic
had seized many of these poor creatures, who, in imagination, already
saw themselves impaled upon the cruel spears of Hafela’s troops, and
indeed in not a few instances believed those who were urging them
forward to be the enemy. Women shrieked and wrung their hands, children
wailed piteously, oxen lowed, and the infirm and aged vented their
grief in groans and cries to Heaven, or their ancient god, for mercy.
In truth, so difficult was the task of marshalling this motley array
at night, numbering as it did ten or twelve thousand souls, that a full
hour went by before the mob even began to move, slowly and uncertainly,
towards the place of refuge, whereof the opening was so narrow that but
few of them could pass it at a time.
Meanwhile Hafela was developing the attack. Forming his great army into
the shape of a wedge he raised his battle-cry and rushed down on the
first line of fortifications, which he stormed without difficulty,
for they were defended by a few skirmishers only. Next he attacked the
second line, and carried it after heavy fighting, then hurled himself
upon the weakest point of the main fence of the vast kraal. Here it was
that the fray began in earnest, for here Nodwengo was waiting for him.
Thrice the thousands rolled on in the face of a storm of spears, and
thrice they fell back from the wide fence of thorns and the wall of
stone behind it. By now the battle had raged for about an hour and a
half, and it was reported to the king that the first of the women and
children had passed the archway into the valley, and that nearly all of
them were clear of the eastern gate of the town.
“Then it is time that we follow them,” said the king, “for if we wait
here until the warriors of Hafela are among us, our retreat will become
a rout and soon there will be none left to follow. Let one company,” and
he named it, “hold the fence for a while to give us time to withdraw,
taking the wounded with us.”
“We hear you, king,” said one of that company, “but our captain is
killed.”
“Who among you will take over the command of these men and hold the
breach?” asked Nodwengo of the group of officers about him.
“I, King,” answered old Hokosa, lifting his spear, “for I care not
whether I live or die.”
“Go to, boaster!” cried another. “Who among us cares whether he lives or
dies when the king commands?”
“That we shall know to-morrow,” said Hokosa quietly, and the soldiers
laughed at the retort.
“So be it,” said the king, and while silently and swiftly he led off the
regiments, keeping in the shadow of the huts, Hokosa and his hundred
men posted themselves behind the weakened fence and wall. Now, for the
fourth time the attacking regiment came forward grimly, on this occasion
led by the prince himself. As they drew near, Hokosa leapt upon the
wall, and standing there in the bright moonlight where all could see
him, he called to them to halt. Instinctively they obeyed him.
“Is it Hafela whom I see yonder?” he asked.
“Ah! it is I,” answered the prince. “What would you with me, wizard and
traitor?”
“This only, Hafela: I would ask you what you seek here?”
“That which you promised me, Hokosa, the crown of my father and certain
other things.”
“Then get you back, Hafela, for you shall never win them.. Have I
prophesied falsely to you at any time? Not so--neither do I prophesy
falsely now. Get you back whence you came, and your wolves with you,
else shall you bide here for ever.”
“Do you dare to call down evil on me, Wizard?” shouted the prince
furiously. “Your wife is mine, and now I take your life also,” and with
all his strength he hurled at him the great spear he held.
It hissed past Hokosa’s head, touching his ear, but he never flinched
from the steel.
“A poor cast, Prince,” he said laughing; “but so it must have been, for
I am guarded by that which you cannot see. My wife you have, and she
shall be your ruin; my life you may take, but ere it leaves me, Hafela,
I shall see you dead and your army scattered. The Messenger is passed
away, but his power has fallen upon me and I speak the truth to you, O
Prince and warriors, who are--already dead.”
Now a shriek of dismay and fury rose from the hundreds who heard this
prophesy of ill, for of Hokosa and his magic they were terribly afraid.
“Kill him! Kill the wizard!” they shouted, and a rain of spears rushed
towards him on the wall.
They rushed towards him, they passed above, below, around; but, of them
all, not one touched him.
“Did I not tell you that I was guarded by That which you cannot see?”
Hokosa asked contemptuously. Then slowly he descended from the wall
amidst a great silence.
“When men are scarce the tongue must play a part,” he explained to his
companions, who stared at him wondering. “By now the king and those
with him should have reached the eastern gate; whereas, had we fought at
once, Hafela would be hard upon his heels, for we are few, and who can
hold a buffalo with a rope of grass? Yet I think that I spoke truth
when I told him that the garment of the Messenger has fallen upon my
shoulders, and that death awaits him and his companions, as it awaits
me also and many of us. Now, friends, be ready, for the bull charges
and soon we must feel his horns. This at least is left to you, to die
gloriously.”
While he was still speaking the first files of the regiment rushed upon
the fence, tearing aside the thorns with their hands till a passage was
made through them. Then they sprang upon the wall, there to be met
by the spears of Hokosa and his men thrusting upward from beneath its
shelter. Time after time they sprang, and time after time they fell back
dead or wounded, till at last, dashing forward in one dense column, they
poured over the stones as the rising tide pours over the rocks on the
sea-shore, driving the defenders before them by the sheer weight of
numbers.
“This game is played!” cried Hokosa. “Fly now to the eastern gate, for
here we can do nothing more.”
So they fled, those who survived of them, and after them came the
thousands of the foe, sacking and firing the deserted town as they
advanced.
Hokosa and his men, or rather the half of them, reached the gate and
passed it in safety, barring it after them, and thereby delaying the
attackers till they could burst their way through. Now hundreds of huts
were afire, and the flames spread swiftly, lighting up the country far
and wide. In the glare of them, Hokosa could see that already a full
two-thirds of the crowd of fugitives had passed the narrow arch; while
Nodwengo and the soldiers were drawn up in companies upon the steep and
rocky slope that led to it, protecting their retreat.
He advanced to the king and reported himself.
“So you have lived through it,” said Nodwengo.
“I shall die when my hour comes, and not before,” Hokosa answered. “We
did well yonder, and yet the most of us are alive to tell the tale, for
I knew when and how to go. Be ready, king, for the foe press us close,
and that mob behind us crawls onward like a snail.”
As he spoke the pursuers broke through the fence and gate of the burning
town, and once more the fight began. They had the advantage of numbers;
but Nodwengo and his troops stood in a wide road upon higher ground
protected on either side by walls, and were, moreover, rested, not
breathless and weary with travel like the men of Hafela. Slowly,
fighting, every inch of the way, Nodwengo was pushed back, and slowly
the long ant-like line of women and sick and cattle crept through the
opening in the rock, till at length all of them were gone.
“It is time,” said Nodwengo, glancing behind him, “for our arms grow
weary.”
Then he gave orders, and company by company the defending force followed
on the path of the fugitives, till at length amidst a roar of rage and
disappointment, the last of them vanished through the arch, Hokosa among
them, and the place was blocked with stones, above which shone a hedge
of spears.