"WOZ'UBONE, KITI KWAZULU."
Lo Bengula sat within the _esibayaneni_--the sacred enclosure wherein
none dare intrude--at his great kraal, Bulawayo.
The occupation on which the King was then engaged, was the homely and
prosaic one of eating his breakfast. This consisted of a huge dish of
_bubende_, being certain ingredients of the internal mechanism of the
bullock, all boiled up with the blood, to the civilised palate an
appalling article of diet, but highly favoured by the Matabele. Yet,
while devouring this delicacy with vast appetite, the royal countenance
was overcast and gloomy in the extreme.
Lo Bengula sat alone. From without a continuous roar of many voices
reached him. It was never hushed, the night through it had hardly been
hushed, and this was early morning. Song after song, some improvised,
others the old war-songs of the nation, interluded with long _paeans_ of
his own praises, rising from the untiring throats of thousands of his
warriors--yet the King, in his heart of hearts, was tired of the lot.
He looked around upon his sheep and goats--for the sacred enclosure
included the kraal which contained his private and particular flock--and
he loved them, for he was by nature a born farmer, called by accident,
and even then, reluctantly, to rule this nation of fierce and turbulent
fighters. He looked upon the flocks surrounding him and wondered how
much longer they would be his--how much longer anything would be his--
for war was not merely in the air but was actually at his gates; war
with the whites, with whom he had ever striven to live on friendly and
peaceful terms. But, as had long been foreseen, his people had forced
his hand at last.
Unwillingly he had bowed to the inevitable, he the despot, he, before
whose frown those ferocious and bloodthirsty human beasts trembled, he
the dark-skinned savage, whose word was law, whose ire conveyed terror
over a region as wide-spreading and vast as that under the sway of any
one of the greater Powers in Europe. But as long as the nation was a
nation and he was alive, he intended to remain its King, however
reluctant he had been to assume the supreme reins of government, and
consistently with this it had been out of his power to check the
aggressive ebullitions of his fiery adherents. And now war was within
the land, and hourly, runners were bringing in tidings of the advance--
straight, fell, unswerving of purpose--of a strong and compact
expedition of whites--their goal his capital.
Yes, day by day these were drawing nearer. The intelligence brought by
innumerable spies and runners was unvarying. The approaching force in
numbers was such that a couple of his best regiments should be able to
eat it up at a mouthful. But it was splendidly armed, and its
organisation and discipline were perfect. Its leaders seemed to take no
risks, and at the smallest alarm all those waggons could be turned into
a complete and defensive fort almost as quickly as a man might clap his
hands twice. And then, from each corner, from every face of this
unscaleable wall, peeped forth a small, insignificant thing, a little
shining tube that could be placed on the back of a horse--yet this
contemptible-looking toy could rain down bullets into the ranks of his
warriors at a rate which would leave none to return to him with the
tale. Nay more, even the cover of rocks and bushes would not help them,
for other deadly machines had these whites, which could throw great bags
of bullets into the air to fall and scatter wherever they chose, and
that at well-nigh any distance. All of this Lo Bengula knew and
appreciated, but his people did not, and now from without, ever and
increasing upon his ears, fell the din and thunder of their boasting
songs of war.
"_Au_! They are poor, lean dogs!" he growled to himself. "They will be
even as dogs who snarl and run away, when they get up to these whites.
They bark loudly now and show their teeth. Will they be able to bite?"
Personally, too, he liked the English. He had been on very friendly
terms with several of them. They were always bringing him presents,
things that it was good to have, and of which now he owned considerable
store. He liked conversing with them too, for these were men who had
travelled far and had seen things--and could tell him wonders about
other lands, inhabited by other whites, away beyond the great sea. They
were not fools, these English. And their bravery! Who among dark races
would go and place themselves in the power of a mighty and warrior race
as these did? What three or four men of such would dare to stand before
him here--at this very place, calm, smiling, unmoved, while thousands of
his warriors were standing around, howling and clamouring for their
blood? Not one. Then, too, their knowledge was wonderful. Had not
several of them, from time to time, done that which had eased him of his
gout, and of the shooting pains which afflicted his eyes, and threatened
to deprive him of his sight? No, of a truth he desired not to quarrel
with such. Well, it might be, that when these dogs of his had been
whipped back--when they had thought to hunt bucks and found that they
had assailed instead, a herd of fierce and fearless buffalo bulls--that
then he might order them to lie down, and that peace between himself and
the whites might again prevail.
Having arrived at this conclusion, and also at that of his repast, the
King gave utterance to a call, and immediately there appeared two
_izinceku_, or personal attendants of the royal household. These ran
forward in a crouching attitude, with bodies bent low, and while one
removed the utensils and traces of the feast, the other produced a great
bowl of baked clay, nearly filled with fresh water. Into this the King
plunged his hands, throwing the cold water over his face and head with
great apparent enjoyment, then, having dried himself with a towel of
genuine civilisation, he rose, strode over to his waggon--the two
attendants lying prostrate in the dust before him as he moved--and
lifting the canvas flap, disappeared from mortal ken: for this waggon
was the place of his most sacred seclusion, and woe indeed to the
luckless wight who should presume to disturb him in that retreat.
Without, the aspect of the mighty circle was stirring and tumultuous to
the last degree. The huge radius of grass roofs lay yellow and shining
in the fierce sunlight, alive too, with dark forms ever on the move,
these however, being those of innumerable women, and glistening, rotund
brats, chattering in wide-eyed excitement; for the more important spot,
the great open space in front of the King's enclosure, was given over to
the warriors.
With these it was nearly filled. Regiment upon regiment was mustered
there: each drafted according to the standing of those who composed its
ranks, from the Ingubu, which enjoyed the high privilege of attending as
bodyguard upon the King, hence its name--the Blanket, i.e. the King's--
ever around the royal person--the fighting Imbizo, and the Induba--down
to the slave regiments such as the Umcityu, composed of slaves and the
descendants of conquered and therefore inferior races. All these were
in full war array. The higher of them wore the _intye_, a combination
of cape and headpiece made of the jetty plumage of the male ostrich,
others were crowned with the _isiqoba_, a ball of feathers nodding over
the forehead, and supporting the tall, pointed wing feather of the
vulture, or the blue crane. Mutyas of monkey-skin and cat-tails, in
some few instances leopard's skin, fantastic bunches of white cowhair at
elbow and knee and ankle, with bead necklaces, varying in shape and
colour, completed the adornment. But all were fully armed. The
national weapon, the traditional implement of Zulu intrepidity and
conquest, the broad-bladed, short-handled, close-quarter assegai--of
such each warrior carried two or three: a murderous-looking battle-axe
with its sickle-like blade: a heavy-headed, short-handled knob-kerrie,
and the great war-shield, black, with its facings of white, a proportion
white entirely--others red--others again, streaked, variegated, and
surmounted by its tuft of fur or jackal's tail, or cowhair--this array,
chanting in fierce strophes, stamping in unison, and clashing time with
weapon-haft upon hard hide shield, amid the streaming dust, made up a
picture--as terrific as it was formidable--of the ferocious and pent-up
savagery of a hitherto unconquered, and in its own estimation,
unconquerable race.
A musky, foetid effluvium hung in the air, the mingled result of all
this gathering of perspiring, moving humanity, and vast heaps of
decaying bones, already decomposing in the fierce sunlight there on the
killing place just outside the huge kraal at its eastern end, where a
great number of the King's cattle had been slaughtered on the previous
day in order to feast the regiments mustered for war--while myriads of
buzzing flies combined to render the surcharged atmosphere doubly
pestilential. Seated together, in a group apart, the principal indunas
of the nation were gathered in earnest conference, while, further on,
the whole company of _izanusi_, or war-doctors, arrayed in the hideous
and disgusting trappings of their order, were giving a final eye to the
removal of huge _mutt_ bowls, containing some concoction equally hideous
and disgusting, from the secluded and mysterious precincts wherein such
had been brewed: for the whole army was about to be doctored for war.
Now a fresh stir arose among the excited armed multitude gathered there,
and all eyes were turned to the eastward. Away over the rolling plain,
from the direction of the flat-topped Intaba-'Zinduna, a moving mass was
approaching, and as it drew nearer the gleam of spears and the sheen of
hide shields flickered above the dark cloud. It was the Insukamini
regiment, for whose presence those here had been waiting in order to
render the master complete. As it swung up the slope, an old war-song
of Umalikazi came volleying through the air to those here gathered:
"Yaingahlabi
Leyo'mkonzi!
Yai ukufa!"
[Note: "That Bull did not gore (merely). It was death!"]
With full-throated roar the vast gathering took it up, re-echoing the
fell chorus until it became indescribable in its strength of volume, and
soon, the newly arrived regiment, over a thousand strong, filed in, and
fell into line, amid the thunder of its vociferous welcome.
Then the company of _ixanuri_ came forward, and for some time these were
busy as they went along the lines, administering to each warrior a
morsel of the horrible hotch-potch they had been concocting, and which
was designed to render him, if not quite impervious to the enemy's
missiles, at any rate to lessen his chances of being struck, and to make
him a very lion of strength and courage in the day of battle.
This over, yet one ceremony remained, to sing the war-song in the
presence of the King, and depart. A silence had fallen upon all after
the doctoring was concluded. Soon, however, it was broken by the
"praisers" shouting the King's titles.
As Lo Bengula appeared in front of his warriors, the whole immense
crescent fell forward like mown corn, and from every throat went up in
one single, deep-voiced, booming roar, the royal greeting:
Kumalo!
The King did not seat himself. With head erect and kindling eyes, he
paced up and down slowly, surveying the whole martial might of his
nation. He, too, was arrayed in full war costume, crowned with the
towering _intye_, and wearing a mutya of splendid leopard skin. He was
attended by his shield-bearer, holding aloft the great white shield of
state, but in his hand he carried another and a smaller shield, also
white, and a long-hafted, slender, casting assegai.
Long and loud were the shouts of _sibonga_ which rent the air as the
warriors fell back into a squatting posture, their shields lying flat in
front of them. They hailed him by every imaginable title of power and
of might--as their father, as their divinity, as the source of all that
was good and beneficial which they possessed. They called the
lightnings of the clouds, the thunders of the air--everything--into
requisition to testify as to his immensity--till at last, as though in
obedience to some sudden and mysterious signal, they subsided into
silence. Then Lo Bengula spoke:
"Children of Matyobane, the enemy is already in your land. These
Amakiwa, who came to me few and poor, and begging, are now many and
rich, and proud. They begged for a little land wherein to dig gold, and
I gave it them, but, lo, they want more. Like devouring locusts, these
few whites who came begging, and sat down here so humbly before me, were
but the advance-guard of a swarm. I gave them meat, and now they
require a whole ox. I gave them an ox, and now they require the whole
herd. I gave them the little land they craved for, and now, nothing
will satisfy them but to devour the whole land. Soon they will be here.
"There are dogs who bark and turn away, and there are dogs who bite.
There are dogs who are brave when it is a matter of pulling down an
antelope, but who put down their tails and slink away when it is a lion
who fronts them. Of which are ye?
"Lo, the spirit of the Great Great One who founded this nation is still
alive. His serpent still watches over those whom he made great in the
art of war. Shall you shame his name, his memory? Of a truth, no.
"Yonder comes the white army--nearer, nearer day by day. Soon it will
be here. But first it will have to pass over the bodies of the lions of
Matyobane. Shall it do so? Of a truth, no!"
The King ceased. And upon the silence arose mighty shouts. To the
death they would oppose this invasion. The King, their father, might
sit safe, since his children, his fighting dogs were at large. They
would eat up these whites--ha--ha! a mere mouthful, and the race of
Matyobane should be greater than ever among the great nations of the
world.
Then again a silence fell suddenly, and immediately from a score of
points along the lines, voices began to lead off the war-song:
"Woz'ubone!
Woz'ubone, kiti kwazulu!
Woz'ubone! Nantz'indaba.
Indaba yemkonto.
Jji-jji! Jji-jji!
"Nantz'indaba? Indaba yezizwe?
Akwasimuntu.
Jji-jji! Jji-jji!
"Woz'ubone! Nantz'indaba.
Indaba ka Matyobane."
[See Note 1.]
Louder and louder, in its full-throated cadence, the national war-song
rolled forth, thundrous in its wild weird strophes, to the accompaniment
of stamping feet and clashing of shields--the effect of the deep humming
hiss of the death chorus alone appalling in its fiendlike intensity.
The vast crescent of bedizened warriors swayed and waved in its
uncontrollable excitement, and the dust clouds streamed overhead as an
earnest of the smoke of burning and pillage, which was wont to mark the
fiery path of this terrible race in its conquering progress. Louder,
louder, the song roared forth, and then, when excitement had reached its
highest pitch, silence fell with a suddenness as startling as the mighty
outburst which had preceded it.
For the King had advanced from where he had been standing. Facing
eastward he now stood. Poising the long, slender, casting assegai in
his hand with a nervous quiver, he hurled it far out over the stockade.
"Go now, children of Matyobane!" he cried in tones of thunder.
It was the signal. Rank upon rank the armed legions filed forth from
the gates of the great kraal. In perfect silence now they marched,
their faces set eastward--a fell, vast, unsparing host upon destruction
bent. Woe to the invading force if it should fail to repel the might of
these!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1.
"Come behold come behold at the High Place!
That is the tale--the tale of the spears.
That is the tale? The tale of the nations?
Nobody knows.
Come behold. That is the tale.
The tale of Matyobane."
"Jji-jji!" is the cry uttered on closing in battle.