At first I liked it not, for strange _tagati_ beings are about in the
darkness--half-man, half-beast--who rend those that wander alone at
night. But even of such I felt no fear then, wherefore I went straight
to the spot whence the sound came; and, ready to use my spear if need
be, called out to know who it was that spoke.
The answer came almost beneath my feet, and in the darkness I could make
out a form lying there. I bent down and touched it. It was the form of
a woman.
"Remain by me till dawn," gasped a voice hoarse with pain and fear.
"Those horrible beasts. They will rend me again. Oh, kill me, for I
suffer agonies!"
"Who art thou?" I said, not liking this encounter.
"Nomshasa, the wife of Untuswa," came the feeble answer.
_Whau, Nkose_! Then, indeed, did I well-nigh leap for amazement. For
the name was that of one of my Swazi wives--that one who had
mysteriously disappeared, and whom I had never expected to behold again.
Bending over her, I strove, to raise her head; but as I moved her,
though ever so gently, she shrieked.
"Ah--touch me not! I am torn in pieces. Those horrible beasts! Put me
out of my pain. One blow at the back of the head will do it."
Now the first streak of dawn had begun to lighten the earth, and by it I
could see that what she said was so indeed. The hyenas which I had
disturbed had indeed begun to devour her, and her body was hideously
torn. But how had she come into that helpless plight? Then, by the
fast increasing light, she knew me, and called me by name.
And I, _Nkose_, gazing at her, I was filled with horror. The whole of
her scalp was one mass of blood, and it seemed as though her skull had
been battered in. Her elbow joints were smashed and swollen; so too,
were her wrists, and there were marks of frightful burns upon her body.
The marvel was she was alive at all. I was full of pity for her, for
she had been a handsome and pleasing girl, and during the short time
since the King had given her to me to wife she had always done well by
me.
Now, making a great effort, she told me her tale. During my absence
against, the Amabuna she had been seized by order of Umhlela, and
questioned as to my doings, but could tell nothing that would go against
me in an accusation of witchcraft. She was kept a close prisoner in a
hut until the return of Tambusa, when she had been put to the torture to
force her to confess. They had burned her with fire, had broken her
joints with heavy knob-sticks, and that not on one day, but on many; but
she would say nothing, till at last, losing patience, Tambusa had
ordered her to be thrown outside and knobkerried. But the slayers had
done their work in bungling fashion, and so she had waited until night
and dragged herself away in the darkness to die alone. Then, when faint
and too weak to move, the hyenas had fallen upon her.
No, the King could not have known, for it was in order to condemn me
before him that they had tortured her, she said. But when I asked why
they should have selected her rather than the other two, then, _Nkose_,
came in the old, old tale, the mischief that can be wrought by a woman's
tongue. That vision which Nomshasa had beheld while asleep at my side
she could not keep to herself. She had chattered about it, and this
coming to the ears of the two principal indunas who, in their jealous
hatred, were watching my every movement, had put it into their minds to
use her as a means of substantiating a charge of witchcraft against me,
such a charge as Dingane himself would hardly venture to shield me from
the penalty of. But the poor girl had been heavily punished indeed for
giving way to the weakness of women--the wagging of too long a tongue;
though in her constancy under the torments they heaped upon her she had
shown no weakness at all, but rather the strength and bravery of the
most valiant of warriors; and this I told her.
She was greatly pleased, and a drawn smile came over her face in the
midst of her pain.
"I loved thee, Untuswa," she said, "and I rejoiced when the King gave
me, a captive girl who might have been made a slave, to wife to such a
noted warrior as thou. And I think thou didst prefer me a little to the
other two, but thou wert ever kind to me, and the torturers might have
torn me into small pieces before I would have let fall one word to harm
thee. And now I think I were better dead, for there might in time be
others whom thou might prefer to me; yet for a little while I have been
first."
All this was said, not as I have told it to you, _Nkose_, but slowly and
in gasps, and I, well, thinking of Lalusini, it seemed that her words
were those of wisdom, for I had known experience of the jealousy of
women. Yet I said:
"Thou wouldst ever have lived in great honour, Nomshasa, and have been
counted great among my wives."
"But not greatest--" she said, attempting to smile. "Yet hearken,
Untuswa, and be warned. Return not to Nkunkundhlovu, for death awaits
thee there. There is another great bull of the House of Senzangakona
who would fain roar in this kraal. Mpande would welcome such a fighter
as thee."
The dawn had now spread, and soon the sun would come forth from behind
the rim of the world. And now, in the full daylight, the terrible
injuries that poor Nomshasa had received, both from the torturers and
the teeth and claws of the beasts, looked so awful that every living
moment must be to her a moment of intense agony. She could not live.
She must have seen into my thoughts, for she said:
"It is time to give me rest, Untuswa. Yet return not to Dingane. They
who were appointed to slay me jeered me beneath their blows, saying that
before another sun or two set thy shade should join mine. Wherefore,
flee. And now--Strike!"
I looked at her, and my heart was heavy with pity and wrath. Then I
said:
"I will strike indeed, Nomshasa, for thy pain is too great. Yet let
this lighten it. When the day of my power comes, be assured that the
pangs of Tambusa and all who bore part in this matter shall be greater
than thine. Now--art thou ready?"
"I am. No death could I have preferred to death at thy hand, Untuswa.
Yet, hold my hand in thine unarmed one as the blow falls."
I turned her gently over upon her side, but she groaned with the agony
of it. Then with my left hand I held hers. For a moment I looked at
her. Her eyes were closed, and something like a smile was upon her
face. I raised my right arm aloft, then with one quick crashing blow
brought the heavy knob-stick down. It fell, fair--just where the base
of the skull joins the back of the neck. Her agony was over. No
shudder even ran through her, so completely, so suddenly had death
overtaken her.
Notwithstanding the warning of Nomshasa, I still took my way in the
direction of Nkunkundhlovu, for I thought I might perhaps gather from
those I should meet whether the danger threatening was very near or not;
whereas by taking a contrary direction it might overtake me suddenly and
unawares, as peril springs out upon one who is blind. Yet I proceeded
with great caution, so that presently, seeing several men approach,
armed with spears and shields, I dropped out of sight to let them pass.
But soon after them came another--a tall man and ringed. Him I surveyed
a moment, and recognised Silwane. But, to my surprise, when I would
have accosted him he turned away, as though not aware of my presence.
This looked strange, but while I was pondering as to what it could mean,
I heard Silwane begin to sing softly to himself. I listened as the
words grew louder and louder, yet not so as they could have been heard
from afar. And the words were strange, for he sang of a buffalo-bull
for whom hunters lay in wait, whom their circle had well-nigh closed
around; that the Ngome mountains were wild and broken, full of great
forests and impenetrable hiding-places; and that there, and there only,
had the hunted buffalo fled, that there, and there only, might he be
safe. So he kept on singing. To any who heard, he might have been
muttering an ordinary hunting-song, but to me, listening, ah! I saw his
meaning. He had not really failed to observe me, but the last thing he
desired was to do so in fact; and now he raised that song in urgent
warning. Ah! he was a man, indeed, _Nkose_, was that same Silwane; a
valiant fighter when we met in battle in opposite ranks; a true and
faithful brother of the spear now that we had fought side by side.
So I saw through his warning and the advice it conveyed, yet before
acting upon it I would take counsel with Lalusini. To this end I turned
back, and travelling with great caution, at length I gained the strange
earth cave where she dwelt.
She was surprised when she saw me, and somewhat disturbed. I told her
all that had occurred--the death of poor Nomshasa and her warning; the
meeting and warning of Silwane. But when I came to Nomshasa's idea that
I should join in the plots of Mpande she shook her head.
"That will not do, Untuswa. That will not further my plans at all.
_Au_! It seems that our places are reversed," she went on, with a
laugh; "but it will not be always so. I know this people better than
thou dost, and am in a better position to watch and wait, and, if need
be, act. Now the only way by which Mpande can sit in the seat of
Dingane is with the aid of the Amabuna, and we have no need of these
white invaders. Here is my counsel, Untuswa. Flee hence to the Ngome
forests beyond the Black Umfolosi, and lie hidden awhile. There dwell a
number of men who have sought refuge, and who will welcome thee among
them."
"A wanderer again! Well, if it must be. But how is it that these
people, if refugees, are allowed to dwell in the heart of the land
unsought for?"
"Because the King does not really desire their death. They are made up
of men who have been smelt out by the _izanusi_, and have managed to
escape; others whom the King has doomed, not really meaning that they
should be slain, or the _izinduna_ have plotted to destroy, and who
having been warned in time, fled; also the relatives of these men,
dreading lest the doom should fall upon them also. Now these men are so
numerous as almost to constitute a tribe in themselves; they are wild
and fierce, but will welcome such another fighter. That is the only
plan, Untuswa; thou must flee to the Bapongqolo. Did not even the
warning of Silwane convey that? Was it not about a hunted buffalo who
found safety in the Ngome forests?"
"That is so, Lalusini," I answered. "Yet it seems that I have found
thee after all this time of sorrow, only that we must lose sight of each
other immediately." And I looked at her sadly.
"Patience, Untuswa," she said. "I am planning to make thee great, that
thou and I together may rule the world. Say, are we not of the sort who
are born to that end?" And, coming over to me, she placed both hands
upon my shoulders, looking up into my face; nor had she to look _up_
very much, for, tall as I was, she, for a woman, was of splendid
stature.
"I think, indeed, we are well fitted to rule it," I answered, with
pride.
"Then go now, a wanderer once more, Untuswa, but only for a short while.
Besides, it may be that I will find thee but, even among the fierce
Bapongqolo, from time to time," she added.
"Why, then, go I forth with joy," I answered. "Farewell, Lalusini.
Delay not to find me out."
She gave me a few things which I might need, food, and a casting-spear
or two, and a large new war-shield--I having come forth with but a small
dancing shield--and thus once more fared I forth a wanderer, a fugitive
from the parent nation, even as from its offshoot. Verily it seemed as
though I were to find no rest.
Now the undertaking before me was, to a man of my experience and
familiarity with peril, no very great one, for by using ordinary caution
I could always travel unobserved. I avoided the kraals of men, moving
mostly at night. Twice I saw in the distance bodies of armed warriors
who might or might not have been in search of me; but these I easily
eluded, though delayed thereby; and the third evening after parting with
Lalusini I was well in among the wildest solitudes of the Ngome forest.
And they were solitudes, _Nkose_. The great slopes and spurs of the
mountains were covered with dense forest surging up in seas of foliage
against the immense rock walls of the Lebombo mountains. Below, chasms
and deep ravines through which the mountain streams whimpered, half
hidden beneath the decaying vegetation and rotting tree-trunks of ages.
And of animal life, of bird life, of insect life--_whau_! the air was
never still. By day the black chasms boomed with the hoarse bark of the
dog-snouted baboons, and at night thundered from cliff to cliff the roar
of the lion. Birds chattered and piped, and the buzz of insects hung
ever upon the air, but of man and his habitations never a sign.
"Now," thought I, "where are these people of whom Lalusini spoke? for
these solitudes are not altogether to my mind. I like better not to
dwell alone," But still I wandered through unpeopled forests, seeing no
sign of man, I grew uneasy. There was abundance of game, easily slain,
too. Still I desired converse.
This, however, came my way at last, and in right startling manner did it
come. I had turned the corner of a great rock, where the track I had
been following opened into a grassy glade. Suddenly there sprang up
right at my feet several men fully armed, who, with a loud shout, called
on me to halt.