The spectacle which met Eustace's eyes, on emerging from the dark and
stuffy hut, struck him as grand and stirring in the extreme.
He saw around him an open clearing, a large natural amphitheatre,
surrounded by dense forest on three sides, the fourth being constituted
by a line of jagged rocks more or less bush-grown. Groups of hastily
constructed huts, in shape and material resembling huge beehives, stood
around in an irregular circle, leaving a large open space in the centre.
And into this space was defiling a great mass of armed warriors.
On they came, marching in columns, the air vibrating to the roar of
their terrible war-song. On they came, a wild and fierce array, in
their fantastic war dresses--the glint of their assegai blades dancing
in the sunlight like the ripples of a shining sea. They were marching
round the great open space.
Into this muster of fierce and excited savages Eustace found himself
guided. If the demeanour of his guards had hitherto been good-humoured
and friendly, it was so no longer. Those immediately about him kept
turning to brandish their assegais in his face as they marched, going
through the pantomime of carving him to pieces, uttering taunts and
threats of the most blood-curdling character.
"_Hau umlungu_! Are you cold? The fire will soon be ready. Then you
will be warm--warm, ha-ha!" they sang, rubbing their hands and spreading
them out before an imaginary blaze. "The wood is hot--ah-ah! It burns!
ah-ah!" And then they would skip first on one foot, then on another, as
if trying to avoid a carpeting of glowing coals. Or, "The fighting men
of the Ama-Gcaleka are thirsty. But they will soon have to drink.
Blood--plenty of blood--the drink of warriors--the drink that shall make
their hearts strong. _Hau_!" And at this they would feign to stab the
prisoner--bringing their blades near enough to have frightened a nervous
man out of his wits. Or again: "The ants are hungry. The black ants
are swarming for their food. It shall soon be theirs. Ha-ha! They
want it alive. They want eyes. They want brains. They want blood!
Ha-ha! The black, ants are swarming for their food." Here the savages
would squirm and wriggle as in imitation of a man being devoured alive
by insects. For this was an allusion to a highly popular barbarity
among these children of Nature; one not unfrequently meted out to those
who had incurred the envy or hostility of the chiefs and witch-doctors,
and had been "smelt out" accordingly.
When all were gathered within the open space the war chant ceased. The
great muster of excited barbarians had formed up into crescent rank and
now dropped into a squatting posture. To the open side of this,
escorted by about fifty warriors, the prisoner was marched.
As he passed through that sea of fierce eyes, all turned on him with a
bloodthirsty stare, between that great crowd of savage forms, squatted
around like tigers on the crouch, Eustace felt his pulses quicken. The
critical time had arrived.
Even at that perilous moment he took in the place and its surroundings.
He noted the faces of women, behind the dark serried ranks of the
warriors, peering eagerly at him. There were, however, but few, and
they wore a crushed and anxious look. He noted, further, that the huts
were of recent and hasty construction, and that the cattle inclosure was
small and scantily stocked. All this pointed to the conclusion that the
kraal was a temporary one. The bulk of the women and cattle would be
stowed away in some more secure hiding place. Only for a moment,
however, was he thus suffered to look around. His thoughts were quickly
diverted to a far more important consideration.
His guards had fallen back a few paces, leaving him standing alone. In
front, seated on the ground, was a group consisting of a dozen or
fourteen persons, all eyeing him narrowly. These he judged to be the
principal chiefs and councillors of the Gcaleka tribe. One glance at
the most prominent figure among these convinced him that he stood in the
presence of the Paramount Chief himself.
Kreli, or Sarili, as the name is accurately rendered--the former being,
however, that by which he was popularly, indeed, historically known--the
chief of the Gcalekas and the suzerain head of all the Xosa race, was at
that time about sixty years of age. Tall and erect in person, dignified
in demeanour, despising gimcrack and chimney-pot hat counterfeits of
civilisation, he was every inch a fine specimen of the savage ruler.
His shrewd, massive countenance showed character in every line, and the
glance of his keen eyes was straight and manly. His beard, thick and
bushy for a Kafir, was only just beginning to show a frost of grey among
its jetty blackness. Such was the man before whom Eustace Milne stood--
so to speak--arraigned.
For some moments the august group sat eyeing the prisoner in silence.
Eustace, keenly observing those dark impassive faces, realised that
there was not one there which was known to him. He had seen Hlangani's
gigantic form, resplendent or the reverse in the most wildly elaborate
war costume, seated among the fighting men. Here in the group before
him all were strangers.
While some of his chiefs were arrayed in costumes of plumes and skins
and cow-tails exceeding fantastic, Kreli himself had eschewed all
martial adornments. An ample red blanket swathed his person, and above
his left elbow he wore the thick ivory armlet affected by most Kafirs of
rank or position. But there was that about his personality which marked
him out from the rest. Eustace, gazing upon the arbiter of his fate,
realised that the latter looked every inch a chief--every inch a man.
"Why do you come here making war upon me and my people, _umlungu_!" said
the chief, shortly.
"There is war between our races," answered Eustace. "It is every man's
duty to fight for his nation, at the command of his chief."
"Who ordered you to take up arms against us? You are not a soldier, nor
are you a policeman."
This was hard hitting. Eustace felt a trifle nonplussed. But he
conceived that boldness would best answer his purpose.
"There were not enough regular troops or Police to stand against the
might of the Gcaleka nation," he replied. "Those of us who owned
property were obliged to take up arms in defence of our property."
"Was your property on the eastern side of the Kei? Was it on this side
of the Bashi?" pursued the chief. "When a man's house is threatened
does he go four days' journey away from it in order to protect it?" A
hum of assent--a sort of native equivalent for "Hear, hear," went up
from the councillors at this hard hit.
"Do I understand the chief to mean that we whose property lay along the
border were to wait quietly for the Gcaleka forces to come and `eat us
up' while we were unprepared?" said Eustace quietly. "That because we
were not on your side of the Kei we were to do nothing to defend
ourselves; to wait until your people should cross the river?"
"Does a dog yelp out before he is kicked?"
"Does it help him, anyway, to do so after?" replied the prisoner, with a
slight smile over this new rendering of an old proverb. "But the chief
cannot be talking seriously. He is joking."
"_Hau_!" burst forth the _amapakati_ in mingled surprise and resentment.
"You are a bold man, _umlungu_," said Kreli, frowning. "Do you know
that I hold your life in my hand?"
This was coming to the point with a vengeance. Eustace realised that,
like Agag, he must "walk delicately." It would not do to take up a
defiant attitude. On the other hand to show any sign of trepidation
might prove equally disastrous. He elected to steer as near as possible
a middle course.
"That is so," he replied. "I am as anxious to live as most people. But
this is war-time. When a man goes to war he does not lock up his life
behind him at home. What would the Great Chief gain by my death?"
"His people's pleasure," replied Kreli, with sombre significance, waving
a hand in the direction of the armed crowd squatted around. Then
turning, he began conferring in a low tone with his councillors, with
the result that presently one of the latter directed that the prisoner
should be removed altogether beyond earshot.
Eustace accordingly was marched a sufficient distance from the debating
group, a move which brought him close to the ranks of armed warriors.
Many of the latter amused themselves by going through a wordless, but
highly suggestive performance illustrative of the fate they hoped
awaited him. One would imitate the cutting out of a tongue, another the
gouging of an eye, etc., all grinning the while in high glee.
Even Eustace, strong-nerved as he was, began to feel the horrible strain
of the suspense. He glanced towards the group of chiefs and _amapakati_
much as the prisoner in the dock might eye the door of the room where
the jury was locked up. He began talking to his guards by way of
diversion.
"Who is that with Hlangani, who has just joined the _amapakati_?" he
asked.
"Ukiva."
He looked with new interest at the warrior in question, in whose name he
recognised that of a fighting chief of some note, and who was reported
to have commanded the enemy in the fight with Shelton's patrol.
"And the man half standing up--who is he?"
"Sigcau--the great chief's first son. _Whau umlungu_!" broke off his
informant. "You speak with our tongue even as one of ourselves. Yet
the chiefs and principal men of the House of Gcaleka are unknown lo you
by sight."
"Those of the House of Gaika are not. Tell me. Which is Botmane?"
"Botmane? Lo!" replied several of the Kafirs emphatically. "He next to
the Great Chief."
Eustace looked with keen interest upon the man pointed out--an old man
with a grey head, and a shrewd, but kindly natured face. He was Kreli's
principal councillor and at that time was reported to be somewhat in
disfavour by reason of having been strenuously opposed to a war with the
whites. He was well-known to Eustace by name; in fact the latter had
once, to his considerable chagrin, just missed meeting him on the
occasion of a political visit he had made to the Komgha some months
previously.
Meanwhile the prisoner might well feel anxious as he watched the group
of _amapakati_, for they were debating nothing less than the question
whether he should be put to death or not.
The chief Kreli was by no means a cruel or bloodthirsty ruler--and he
was a tolerably astute one. It is far from certain that he himself had
ever been in favour of making war at that time. He was too shrewd and
far-seeing to imagine that success could possibly attend his arms in the
long run, but on the other hand he bore a deep and latent grudge against
the English by reason of the death at their hands of his father, Hintza,
who had been made a prisoner not altogether under circumstances of an
unimpeachable kind and shot while attempting to escape. This had
occurred forty years earlier.
So when the young bloods of the tribe, thirsting for martial
distinction, had forced the hands of their elders and rulers, by
provoking a series of frictions with their Fingo neighbours then under
British protection, the old chief had exercised no very strenuous
opposition to their indulging themselves to the top of their bent.
Having, however, given way to the war spirit, he left no stone unturned
to insure success. Runners were sent to the Gaika and Hlambi tribes
located in British Kaffraria, viz.: within the Colonial limits--but
although plenty of young men owning those nationalities drifted across
the Kei in squads to join his standard, the bulk of the tribes
themselves were slow to respond to his appeal. Had it been otherwise,
the position of the border people would have been more serious. With
the enemy at their very doors they would have found plenty of occupation
at home, instead of being free to pour their forces into the Transkei.
Things, however, had turned out differently. The Gcaleka country had
been ravaged from end to end, and the old chief was at that moment
practically a fugitive. It may readily be imagined, therefore, that he
was in rather an ugly humour, and not likely to show much clemency
towards the white prisoner in his power.
There was another consideration which militated against the said
clemency. Although he had made no allusion to it, it must not be
supposed that Kreli was all this time unaware of the identity of his
prisoner. The latter's friendship with many of the Gaika rulers was a
rank offence in the eyes of the Paramount Chief just then. Had he not
sent his "word" to those chiefs, and had not his "word" fallen on ears
dull of hearing? Instead of rising at his call they were yet "sitting
still." What more likely than that white men, such as this one, were
influencing them--were advising them contrary to their allegiance to
him, the Paramount Chief?
Some of the _amapakati_ were in favour of sparing the prisoner at
present. He might be of use to them hereafter. He seemed not like an
ordinary white man. He spoke their tongue and understood their customs.
There was no knowing but that he might eventually serve them materially
with his own people. Others, again, thought they might just as well
give him over to the people to be put to death in their own way. It
would please the fighting men--many of whom had lost fathers and
brothers at the hands of the whites. Yet again, one or two more
originated another proposal. They had heard something of this white man
being a bit of a wizard--that he owned a "charm" which had turned the
blade of a broad assegai from his heart. Let him be handed over to
Ngcenika, the great witch-doctress. Let her try whether his "charm" was
too strong for her.
This idea met with something like universal acceptance. Shrewd and
intelligent as they are in ordinary matters, Kafirs are given to the
most childish superstitions, and, in adopting the above suggestion,
these credulous savages really did look forward to witnessing something
novel in the way of a competition in magic. In their minds the
experiment was likely to prove a thing worth seeing.
"_Ewa! Ewa_!" ["Yes--yes"] they cried emphatically. "Let Ngcenika be
called."
"So be it," assented Kreli. "Let the witch-doctress be sought."
But almost before the words had left his lips--there pealed forth a
wild, unearthly shriek--a frightful yell--emanating from the line of
rugged and bush-grown rocks which shut in one side of the clearing.
Chiefs, _amapakati_, warriors--all turned towards the sound, an anxious
expression upon every face--upon many, one of apprehension, of fear.
Even to the white prisoner the interruption was sufficiently startling.
And then there bounded forth into their midst a hideous, a truly
appalling apparition.