Our sanctification in exile--Hardships in the hills--Oom Tuys saves
Lomwazi's life--The celebration--Lomwazi formally surrenders the
throne--Sebuza acknowledged as king--We are inducted into the royal
impi--Mbabane sends for information--We escape through Portuguese
territory to America.
There was even less humor about the induna business next morning.
Bright and early L'Tunga arrived at our camp with a solemn expression
on his face and a corps of assistant witch-doctors. We had eaten the
largest breakfast possible, because Tuys had advised us to eat one
more white man's meal "before you go into the mountains and fight the
goats for their food." I remember thinking that there were times when
the rough and ready humor of this burgher was in very bad taste.
L'Tunga had little to say. He told us to follow him, and we three
white men meekly did so. On either side of us was our escort of
witch-doctors, and I had all the sensations of being marched to my
execution. We were taken to L'Tunga's kraal and into a large hut,
where we were ordered to take off all our clothes. I thought Sugden
would explode, but he shut his mouth and took it out in murderous
looks. Crespinell, being a modest soul, was unhappy about removing his
garments, but there was nothing to do except to follow instructions.
I tried to cheer Sugden by remarking in English to him that he would
soon be an induna if his luck held. His only reply was, "Induna?
Hell!" Crespinell was too far gone for words. When we had stripped
L'Tunga presented each of us with a full Swazi warrior's costume,
telling us to put this on. Thankful for anything to cover our
nakedness, we did so as quickly as we could. Then our witch-doctor
friend ordered us to come out of the hut, and we did. We certainly
were the handsomest white Swazis that ever carried a shield!
Tuys was hanging around the kraal, and the twinkle in his eyes when he
saw us marched out to start on our long walk to the hills was worth
seeing. We did not appreciate it, however, for the hot earth hurt our
feet.
It would be impossible to detail our experiences during this exile. I
am sure no white men ever suffered more than we did. We were bitten by
insects, scratched by a million thorns, scorched by the sun during the
day and nearly frozen at night, and our feet were in constant agony.
In spite of L'Tunga's tutoring, we could not find enough food, so that
we nearly starved.
There was only one bright spot. Some young women traveling across the
mountains ran across us and gave us food. Except for this aid, I feel
sure we would never have survived the ordeal. After the first day or
two the only fun we got out of it was enjoyment of each other's
misery. In addition to our actual physical suffering, we were in
constant dread lest we be bitten by some poisonous snake, of which
there are many in these hills.
But such suffering must have an end. On the appointed morning L'Tunga
and his assistants arrived and escorted us back to Lebombo. How we
ever got there I cannot understand. Our feet were practically useless,
and we must have walked on sheer nerve. No sooner did we arrive at
Lebombo than we were ushered into the presence of the queen.
We were a sorry looking group. Each had a ten days' growth of beard
and a famished look in his eyes. Tzaneen was very cordial and assured
us that we had come through our sanctification with flying colors. She
congratulated us on our hardihood and said we would make brave
indunas. When I interpreted to Sugden later the "brave indunas" part
of her speech, I thought he would have a fit.
"If I get through this alive," he exclaimed, "I'll never see a Pullman
porter without wanting to kill him! I don't care how soon the British
send a flying column and wipe out all the Swazis. I hope they start
with L'Tunga, and make Tzaneen and Sebuza close seconds!"
Tzaneen had been right when she told us that all Swaziland would come
to see Sebuza made king. All the kraals at Lebombo were crowded, and
there were thousands of people camped out around the village. Tuys
estimated that there must have been nearly thirty thousand Swazis
there, a good half of whom were warriors. During our exile in the
hills word had gone throughout the land that the celebration would
take place at the end of ten days, and the people had flocked in from
all directions.
The celebration began the day after our return from the hills. Tuys
had learned that the first event would be the official turning over of
the throne by Lomwazi, who had been brought from Lebombo for that
purpose. Following this, there would be a giant reception to Sebuza,
during which all the warriors would acknowledge him as king.
I was curious about Lomwazi. If Sebuza ran true to heredity, his life
was not worth much.
"What will happen to Lomwazi when he has turned over the kingdom to
Sebuza?" I asked Tuys. "Sebuza was very anxious to kill him a little
while ago. Is Lomwazi going to be executed as part of the festivities?"
"While you were away I made up my mind to try and save Lomwazi's
life," Tuys said; "not from any love for him, but because he is the
ablest Swazi I know and may be useful to me some day. I have worked on
Tzaneen and Sebuza until they have agreed to spare his life. To tell
the truth, I frightened them into it. I told them that the news of
Lomwazi's death would surely bring the government rifles into
Swaziland and that the first targets they would seek would be Sebuza
and his mother. It took a long time, but they finally agreed to turn
Lomwazi over to me. I am to be responsible for him and see that he
makes no trouble for Sebuza or his mother. Lomwazi does not know about
this, and he won't until after he has turned over the throne."
When the ceremonies started Sebuza stood on a small mound of the
little plain in front of the kraals, with his "cabinet" behind him.
L'Tunga was there and all the principal indunas, among whom were
Lochien, Vilakazi, and a number of those who had taken part in the
capture of Zombode. Grouped in a tremendous semi-circle about them
were thousands of the Swazi people. They were waiting patiently for
the affair to begin.
We white men remained a little to one side, and soon we saw a small
body of men coming from the kraals. When they drew closer we could
discern Lomwazi in their midst. He was not bound, but carried no arms
and wore no ornaments. All the men guarding him were indunas. They
marched their prisoner in front of Sebuza, and we came nearer so that
we might hear.
"Lomwazi, brother of Buno and traitor to his son," Sebuza began. "You
have lost in the war you started against me and now your life is mine.
Labotsibeni is dead and I have sent for you to surrender the throne to
me so that the people of Swaziland may know who is king. Do you give
up the throne?"
Lomwazi was game. He knew that he faced death, but he never dropped
his eyes or lowered his head. He looked straight at Sebuza and squared
his shoulders.
"Now that Queen Labotsibeni has been murdered, the son of Buno is the
rightful heir to the throne," he replied in his deep voice. "Nkoos,
you are that son and the throne is yours!"
That was all he would say, and I saw Sebuza catch Tuys's eye. He
seemed to change his mind suddenly, and then spoke to Lomwazi again.
"Your life is mine," he said, with a certain amount of petty triumph,
"and I can do with it as I please. I have given it to Oom Tuys, the
White King of Swaziland, the friend of my father, who will do with you
as he desires."
Tuys then stepped forward and motioned the indunas to move away from
Lomwazi. The savage regarded him fixedly for a moment, and Tuys
stretched out his hand. Lomwazi was stunned by the change in his
fortunes, but a second later gripped the hand and followed Tuys as he
retreated into the group behind the mound on which Sebuza stood.
Next the warriors formed into impis and, led by their indunas in all
their savage trappings, began marching past the young king. Each impi
would halt in front of him and give the royal salute, thus
acknowledging him as their ruler. It seemed to me that there was an
endless procession of these savages, all of them fully costumed and
armed for battle.
When this march past was over and Sebuza had thus been officially
recognized as king by the Swazis, the royal impi was sent for and
lined up in front of the "reviewing stand." We were in the background,
waiting at the appointed place, and L'Tunga came and beckoned us to
follow him. I remember how my feet still hurt as we swung in behind
him, carrying our shields like real warriors and trying to step out as
though we were kin to these savages.
[Illustration: MR. CRESPINELL AT HOME AMONG HIS BLACK BRETHREN]
[Illustration: DR. SUGDEN, PRINCE LOMWAZI, AND DR. O'NEIL]
[Illustration: DR. O'NEIL, MR. CRESPINELL, AND DR. SUGDEN AFTER THEIR
INDUCTION INTO THE ROYAL IMPI
This was one of the conditions insisted upon by Queen Tzaneen to prove
their allegiance to her. Clad in this fashion, the three white men
lived in the mountains for ten days, their only food consisting of
what they could gather or kill in the wilderness. They are the only
white men who have ever been accepted officially into a Swazi impi]
We halted in front of Sebuza and there followed a moment's silence. I
could see the thousands upon thousands of Swazis watching us, and it
gave me a peculiar, isolated feeling. Sugden and Crespinell kept their
eyes on Sebuza, and I knew exactly what the doctor was thinking. If
his wishes had come true, Sebuza would have choked right there.
Then Sebuza made a speech.
"White indunas of the royal impi," he said, addressing us in a loud,
clear voice. "You have proved worthy to be blood brothers of the
warriors who guard the king. You have been sanctified and have borne
the ordeal without flinching. From now on you are Swazis and entitled
to all the privileges of my chosen indunas."
There was a good deal more, for Sebuza liked to hear himself talk. As
he rambled on I heard Sugden make a remark out of the corner of his
mouth to Crespinell, which brought a blush to that young induna's
tanned cheek.
"He's going to tell how many wives we can have in a minute," he
whispered. "I hope you get nice fat ones!"
When Sebuza finally finished, he motioned to me to come forward. I did
so and stood just below him on the mound. An induna handed him a
plumed headdress and he placed it on my head. It was much as though he
were conferring a decoration. I stepped back, and Sugden took my place
and received his headdress. Crespinell followed, and then we turned
and faced the royal impi. Sebuza gave a sign and the impi saluted us.
Then we stepped into its ranks and we all saluted the king.
That was the end of the ceremony that made us the only white men to
hold commissions in the royal impi of Swaziland. After leaving the
"parade ground" we were only too thankful to hobble back to camp and
minister to our numerous scratches, cuts, and abrasions. But we had
not yet come to the end of our torture! Din, however, practically
saved our lives by rubbing some concoction he made on our abused feet.
It eased them wonderfully and made it possible for us to get through
the rest of that day.
The same afternoon the real celebration started. Every one had been
drinking tswala, some of which runs as high as twelve per cent. in
alcohol, and this seemed to add to their desire to dance. The warriors
danced before the royal kraal, and we had to perform with our impi. In
spite of Din's treatment, it was agony. The ground was hard and
blistering hot. Sugden's remark that "the hobs of hell have nothing on
this" was fully justified.
But we went through with it somehow. In addition, we were able to get
many pictures of the dancing, and Crespinell even took some of Sugden
and myself doing our best to be true Swazi indunas.
The dancing continued all that afternoon and late into the night. As
soon as it became dark hundreds of great fires were lighted, and it
was a weird sight to see these thousands of savages leaping and
prancing in their light.
The celebration lasted for three full days and nights and on the
morning of the fourth the visiting tribesmen set off for their homes.
There was a general exodus, so that by nightfall Lebombo had returned
to its wonted calm. When I saw how empty it was, I realized that
Tuys's estimate of the number of people who attended the celebration
was very conservative.
We were resting and recuperating after the ordeal of becoming "white
Swazis" when Lochien came in haste to see us. We were about packed up
and expected to leave Lebombo within a few days. Lochien was troubled
and wanted our advice.
"A messenger has come from Mbabane," he said. "He says that the
government will not allow Sebuza to be king. The government chief has
heard that Labotsibeni is dead and wants to know how she died. Tzaneen
wishes you would tell her what to say to the messenger."
This was unpleasant news. I had not believed that the government would
interfere when it heard that Sebuza had actually been made king and
that all Swaziland was rejoicing over it. There was only one thing to
tell the messenger.
"Tell Tzaneen to speak the truth to the messenger," I directed. "Tell
her to say that she does not know how Labotsibeni was killed. If the
messenger asks about the war, tell the queen to explain how
Labotsibeni's warriors attacked her indunas and killed them, and that
she made war only to protect her people."
Lochien took these instructions to Tzaneen, but the event gave me food
for serious thought. If the government was sending messengers to ask
questions, it would soon send white investigators--and then would come
trouble.
That night I called on the queen and informed her that I intended
leaving Swaziland as quickly as possible. She seemed much upset at
this and besought me to stay for several moons more. I gathered that
she was afraid to face the authorities alone. I pointed out to her
that my return to my own world was imperative, and finally she agreed
to let me go.
"Nkoos, you will always remember that you are a Swazi induna," she
said, in parting. "Now you are one of my people and must always remain
loyal to me!"
I promised. I shall always remember her last words. She drew herself
up to her full height and threw out her arms in an eloquent gesture.
"When you go, Mzaan Bakoor, all the sunshine goes out of my life!" she
said, and then turned to enter her hut.
Sunrise next morning saw us trekking for Delagoa Bay. Oom Tuys brought
Lomwazi with us, and it was understood that he would return to his
kraal, far removed from Lebombo, as soon as it was safe for him to
re-enter Swaziland.
Ten days later we reached Delagoa Bay, where we were lucky enough to
find a steamer on which I engaged passage for our party to New York.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Adventures in Swaziland, by Owen Rowe O'Neil