You will see, _Nkose_, that my times now were stormy and troublesome,
and indeed I have ever observed that as it is with nations and people so
it is with individuals. There comes a time when all is fair--all is
power and strength and richness--then comes a decline, and neither
nation nor individual is as before.
Such a time had come upon myself. After the battle of the Three Rifts,
when we had rolled back the might of Dingane--a matter, indeed, wherein
I had fully borne my part--there had followed a time of great honour and
of rest. I was, next to the King, the greatest man in the nation, for
Kalipe, the chief fighting induna, was getting on in age, and would fain
have seen me in his place, having no jealousy of me. I had taken to
wife the beautiful sorceress whose love I had longed to possess;
moreover, the King had rid me of Nangeza, whose tongue and temper had
become too pestilent for any man to bear aught of. My cattle had
increased, and spread over the land, and they who owned me as chief were
many, and comprised some of the best born and of the finest fighting men
in the nation. Yet this was not to last, and as age and security
increased for Umzilikazi, his distrust of me gained too, and now I knew
he would almost gladly be rid of me, and quite gladly of Lalusini, my
principal wife. Yes. To this had things come. I, Untuswa, the second
in command of the King's troops, who had largely borne part in the
saving of our nation, who had even been hailed as king by the flower of
the Zulu fighting indunas, had now to set out upon a ghost hunt, and, in
the event of failure, the penalty hanging over me was such as might have
fallen upon a miserable cheat of an _izanusi_.
Thus pondering I took my way back to my principal kraal, followed by
Lalusini and others of my wives and followers who had separated from the
throng and joined themselves on to me when the order was given to
disperse. Arrived there, I entered my hut, accompanied by Lalusini
alone. Then I sat down and took snuff gloomily and in silence. This
was broken by Lalusini.
"Wherefore this heaviness, holder of the White Shield?" she said. "Do
you forget that you have a sorceress for _inkosikazi_?"
For a while I made no reply, but stood gazing at her with a glance full
of admiration and love. For, standing there, tall and beautiful and
shapely, it seemed to me that Lalusini looked just as when I first
beheld her in the rock cave high up on the Mountain of Death. Time had
gone by since I had taken her to wife, yet she seemed not to grow old as
other women do. My two former wives, Fumana and Nxope, were no longer
young and pleasing, but Lalusini seemed ever the same. Was it her magic
that so kept her? She had borne me no children, but of this I was
rather glad than otherwise, for we loved each other greatly, and I
desired that none should come between to turn her love away from me, as
children would surely do. For my other wives it mattered nothing, but
with Lalusini it was different. I loved her, _Nkose_, as some of you
white people love your women. _Whau_! Do you not allow your women to
walk side by side with you instead of behind? This I have seen in my
old age. And those among us who have been at Tegwini [Durban] tell
strange tales of white men who go out with their women, that they might
load themselves with all the little things their women had bought from
the traders. Few of us could believe that, _Nkose_--the tale is too
strange; and yet it was somewhat after this manner that I loved
Lalusini--I, the second induna of the King's warriors, I, who since I
was but a boy had slain with my own hand more of the King's enemies than
I could count. I, moreover, who had known what the ingratitude and
malice of women could do, in the person of my first wife, Nangeza, for
whom I had sacrificed my fidelity to the King and the nation--even my
life itself. But with Lalusini, ah! it was very different. No evil or
sullen mood was ever upon her; nor did she ever by look or word give me
to understand that a daughter of the House of Senzangakona, the royal
house of Zululand, might perchance be greater than even the second
induna of a revolted and fugitive tribe, now grown into a nation. Even
her counsels, which were weighty and wise, she would put forward as
though she had not caused me to win the White Shield--had not saved our
nation at the Place of the Three Rifts.
"It seems to me, Lalusini," I said at last, "it seems to me that in this
nation there is no longer any room for us two. I have served Umzilikazi
faithfully and well. I have more than once snatched back the life of
the King, when it was tottering on the very brink of the Dark Unknown,
but kings are ever ungrateful; and now I and my house are promised the
death of the traitor. The destruction of the Red Terror, which is my
ordeal, is no real trial at all--it is but a trick. The King would be
rid of us, and, whether I succeed or whether I fail, the Dark Unknown is
to be our portion."
Lalusini bent her head with a murmur of assent, but made no remark.
"And now I am weary of this ingratitude," I went on, sinking my voice to
a whisper, but speaking in a tone of fierce and gloomy determination.
"What has been done before can be done again. I have struck down more
of the enemies of our nation than the King himself. One royal spear--
one white shield is as good to sit under as another; and--it is time our
new nation sat down under its _second_ king."
"Great dreams, Untuswa," said Lalusini, with a smile that had something
of sadness in it.
"Great acts shouldst thou say rather, for I am no dreamer of dreams," I
answered bitterly. "Ha! do I not lead the whole nation in war? for, of
late, Kalipe is old, and stiff in the limbs. One swift stroke of this
broad spear, and the nation will be crying `_Bayete_' to him who is its
leader in war. Ah! ah! What has happened before can happen again."
But here I stopped, for I was referring darkly to the death of that
Great Great One, the mighty Tshaka, from whose loins my _inkosikazi_ had
sprung. Yet no anger did she show.
"So shall we be great together at last, Lalusini, and my might in war,
and thy _muti_ combined, shall indeed rule the world," I went on. "Ha!
I will make believe to go on this _tagati_ business, but to-night I will
return in the darkness, and to-morrow--_whau_!--it may indeed be that
the appearance of the Red Death has presaged the accession of a new
King--even as those dogs, who were burnt to-day, did declare. How now
for that, Lalusini?"
"The throne of Dingiswayo is older than that of Senzangakona, and both
are older than that of Matyobane," she answered. "Yet I know not--my
_muti_ tells me that the time is not yet. Still, it will come--it will
come."
"It will come--yes, it will come--when we two have long since been food
for the alligators," I answered impatiently. "The King's word is that I
slay this horror--this _tagati_ thing--by the foil of the moon. What if
I fail, Lalusini?"
"Fail? Fail? Does he who rolled back the might of the Twin Stars of
Zulu talk about failure? Now, nay, Untuswa--now, nay," she answered,
with that strange and wonderful smile of hers.
"I know not. Now cast me `the bones,' Lalusini, that I may know what
success, if any, lieth before me against the Red Terror."
"The bones? Ha! Such methods are too childish for such as I, Untuswa,"
she answered lightly. "Yet--wait--"
She ceased to speak and her face clouded, even as I had seen it when she
was about to fall into one of her divining trances. Anxiously I watched
her. Her lips moved, but in silence. Her eyes seemed to look through
me, into nowhere. Then I saw she was holding out something in her hand.
Bending over I gazed. She had held nothing when we sat down nor was
there any place of concealment whence she could have produced anything.
But that which lay in her hand was a flat bag, made of the dressed skin
of an impala. Then she spoke--and her voice was as the voice of one who
talks in a dream.
"See thou part not from this, Untuswa. Yet seek not to look within--
until such time as thy wit and the wit of others fail thee--or the
_muti_ will be of no avail--nay more, will be harmful. But in extremity
make use of what is herein--in extremity only--when at thy wit's end."
Still held by her eyes, I reached forth my hand and took the _muti_ bag,
securing it round my neck by a stout leather thong which formed part of
the hide from whence the bag had been cut. As I did so, Lalusini
murmured of strange things--of ghost caves, and of whole impis devoured
in alligator-haunted swamps--and of a wilder, weirder mystery still,
which was beyond my poor powers of understanding--I being but a fighter
and no _izanusi_ at all. Then her eyes grew calm, and with a sigh as of
relief she was herself again.
Now I tried to go behind what she had been saying, but it was useless.
She had returned from the spirit world, and being once more in this,
knew not what she had seen or said while in the other. Even the _muti_
pouch, now fastened to my neck, she glanced upon as though she had never
seen it before.
"Go now, Untuswa," she said.
We embraced each other with great affection, and Lalusini with her own
hands armed me with my weapons--the white shield, and the great
dark-handled assegai which was the former gift of the King, also my
heavy knobkerrie of rhinoceros horn, and three or four light casting
spears--but no feather crest or other war adornments did I put on. Then
I stepped forth.
No armed escort was to accompany me, for I must do this thing alone.
But I had chosen one slave to bear such few things as I should require.
Him I found awaiting me at the gate of the kraal.
It was evening when I stepped forth--evening, the busiest and cheeriest
time of the day--yet my kraal was silent and mournful as though
expecting every moment the messengers of death. The cattle within their
enclosure stood around, lowing impatiently, for the milking was
neglected; and men, young and old, sat in gloomy groups, and no women
were to be seen. These murmured a subdued farewell, for not only was I,
their chief and father, about to sally forth upon an errand of horror
and of gloom, but in the event of failure on my part, who should stand
between them and the King's word of doom?
Through these I strode with head erect as though proceeding to certain
success--to a sure triumph. When without the gate I turned for a moment
to look back. The rim of the sinking sun had just kissed the tips of
the forest trees on the far sky-line, and his rays, like darts of fire,
struck full upon my largest hut, which was right opposite the great gate
of the kraal. And there against the reed palisade in front of the door
stood Lalusini, who had come to see the last of me, ere I disappeared
into gloom and distance. _Au_! I can see her now, my beautiful wife,
as she stood there, her tall and splendid form robed as it were in
waving flames of fire, where the last glory of the dying sun fell full
upon her. And through the dazzle of this darting light, her gaze was
fixed upon me, firm and unflinching. Yes, I can see her now as I saw
her then, and at times in my dreams, _Nkose_, old man as I am, my heart
feels sore and heavy and broken as it did then. For as I returned her
parting gesture of farewell, and plunged into the forest shades, at that
moment a voice seemed to cry in my ears that I should behold her no
more. In truth was I bewitched.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Will you not rest a while, lord, and suffer me to prepare food, for we
have travelled fast and far?"
The voice was that of my attendant slave, and it struck upon my ears as
a voice from the spirit world, so wrapped up was I in the gloom of my
own thoughts. Now I glanced at the sky and judged the night to be more
than half through. And we had marched since the setting of the sun.
But the light of the half moon was sufficient for us, for the forest
trees were of low stature and we were seldom in complete darkness.
"Rest a while? Not so, Jambula," I answered. "Are we not on the King's
errand? and from hence to the full of the moon is not far."
"The forest is loud with the roarings of strange ghost-beasts, my
father; and the time of night when such have most power must already be
here. And we are but two," he urged, though with great deference.
"And what are such to me--to me!" I answered, "I who am under the
protection of great and powerful _muti_? Go to, Jambula. Art thou
turning fearful as time creeps upon thee?"
"I fear nothing within touch of thy _muti_, father," he answered, liking
not the question.
And then, indeed, I became alive to the meaning of the man's words, for
strange and fearful noises were abroad among the shadows on either hand,
low sad wailings as of the ghosts of them that wander in darkness and
pain, mingling with the savage howls of ramping beasts into whose grim
bodies the spirits of many fighters had passed, to continue their fierce
warring upon such as still trod this earth in the flesh. And over and
above these came the mighty, muffled, thunderous roar of a lion.
But those sounds, many and terrifying as they were, held no fears for
me--indeed, they had hitherto fallen upon deaf ears--so filled was my
soul with forebodings of another kind. Now, however, a quick, startled
murmur on the part of my follower caused me to halt.
Right in front I saw a huge shape--massive and shaggy--and I saw the
green flash of eyes, and the baring of mighty jaws in the moonlight.
Then up went the vast head, and a quivering thunderous roar shook the
night.
Then the beast crouched. It was of enormous size in the half light.
Was it only a lion--or a ghost-beast, which would spread and spread till
its hugeness overshadowed the world? If the latter, mere weapons were
powerless against it.
Jambula stepped to my side, every muscle of his frame tense with the
excitement of the moment. His shield was thrust, forward, and his right
hand gripped the haft of a broad-bladed stabbing spear. But I--no
movement did I make towards using a weapon. I advanced straight upon
the beast, and as I did so, some force I knew not caused my hand to rest
upon the _muti_ bag which hung upon my breast.
With a snarling roar the beast moved forward a little, preparing for its
rush. We were but ten paces apart. Then the fierce lashing of the tail
ceased, the awful eyes seemed to glare with fear where rage had fired
them before--the thunder of the threatening roar became as the shrill
whine of a crowd of terrified women--and, backing before me as I
advanced, the huge beast slunk away in the cover, and we could hear its
frightened winnings growing fainter and fainter in the distance.
By this, _Nkose_, two things were clear--that the shape, though that of
a huge and savage lion, was but a shape to give cover to something which
was not of this world--and that Lalusini's _muti_ was capable of
accomplishing strange and wonderful results.