The King's Assegai: A Matabili Story

“‘He is not dead, Untúswa,’ answered the King. ‘Whau! I have seen this trick before, but never better done. Yet he must show us something more than this if he is to keep his life. See; place snuff in his nostrils.’

“I hastened to obey, and as I bent over the set, rigid face, a glance into the wide-open but apparently sightless eyes all but unnerved me. Lustreless and filmy, there yet seemed such a demon-like power lying beneath their black depths. It made me feel as though I were looking into a dark and terrible pit, with some monster of unimaginable hideousness and cruelty lurking at the bottom. The hand which held the snuff spoon shook, and I could hardly carry out the King’s command.

“But with his nostrils well filled with snuff – and, indeed, there must have been a good deal in his throat, for my unsteady hand had spilt some – the old Mosutu never sneezed, never choked. He was not emitting the very faintest breath.

“‘He is dead!’ said Umzilikazi at last. ‘Remove him.’

“Now, for a long time we had been watching, and so, when the King’s word was given, there were not wanting those who were eager to drag the wizard’s body away out of the camp as soon as possible. There was a rush forward, but no sooner had the thong been placed around the ankles, than those who held it leaped high in the air with a cry of alarm. For the dead wizard had uttered a most thunderous sneeze. Another and another broke from his chest as he sat up, and, looking around, set to work coolly to loosen the thong from his ankles.

“‘Thy snuff is strong, Untúswa,’ said the King, bursting out laughing. ‘Well, old man, that was well done; I have never seen it better done. Still, I have seen it done before.’

“‘Can these do it better, lord, son of Matyobane?’ asked Masuka, pointing to our own magicians.

“‘Not so well. Now, Masuka, let this be the new feat, and, by my head-ring, if it is not new, nothing shall save thee from the fate I promised.’

“A roar of bonga went up from all. When it had subsided, the old man said:

“‘Search me. Let the King see himself that it is done thoroughly.’ And he stretched out his arms.

“‘Search him, Untúswa,’ said Umzilikazi. ‘Search him while I watch.’

“Handing the royal shield to another of the body-guard, I stepped forward. So frail and puny did the little old man look, his head hardly reaching to my chest, his withered limbs like bits of broken stick, that it seemed as though I could have blown him away. Yet I feared him. I feared the glitter of his snake-like eyes. But I feared the King even more, wherefore I was careful to show no sign of hesitation.

“Save for a very scanty mútya around his loins and a strip of hide which served as a bandage to his bruised and battered head, the old Mosutu was entirely naked. He no longer wore even his mystic adornments as witch-doctor. In a moment I was able to satisfy myself that there was absolutely nothing upon him.

“‘Where hast thou deposited thy múti, old man?’ said the King, when I had reported this. ‘Shall it not be brought?’

“‘I require it not, lord. Such as these,’ with a sweep of the arm towards our own izanusi, ‘such as these require many things – I, nothing.’

“‘Proceed, then.’

“‘Yonder is a mound upon the plain,’ pointing to a small rise outside our lines about four times the distance a man could cast a spear. ‘Does the King allow me to proceed yonder alone?’

“‘Go,’ said Umzilikazi.

“There lay upon our host a deep, dead silence, such as might be felt. Every breath was drawn in, every head bent forward, every eye dilated upon the little shrivelled form of the old witch-doctor as he shambled forth from our midst to the spot indicated.

“Arrived there, he lay flat upon the ground, placing his ear against it as though he were talking to someone beneath and listening for an answer; and, indeed, talking he was, for we could hear the muttering of his voice. Then he raised himself to a sitting posture, with his back towards us and his face turned upward to the heavens, and, lo, a marvel! There arose a thread of smoke, light, filmy, then thicker and blacker, till soon there poured upward a black column, in thickness as a man’s leg; and while we gazed there leaped into the smoke-pillar a ball of flame, and as it did so it gave forth a booming roar even as the thunder of the baï-nbaï (Cannon), which wrought such havoc among us Zulus yonder at Kambúla. Another and another followed, and then the blackness of the smoke ceased, and it rose blue and clear, and a gasp and shiver of wonder ran through our people, for the grass around the old Mosutu was blazing. He was standing in a ring of flame.

“‘Bid your izanusi put out this fire, O King of a new nation, if they dare approach the spot whence the Fire Spirit, who dwells in the heart of the world, has lifted up his voice,’ cried Masuka, stepping through the flaming circle and advancing towards us.

“Though thrilling with awe and wonderment myself, I had not omitted to watch Umzilikazi’s countenance during the witch-doctor’s manifestation: Fear was upon all other faces, but upon that of the King was only curiosity, and I thought triumph. Now he turned to the izanusi, and said:

“‘Do his bidding.’

“Their countenances told as plainly as possible that they liked not their errand. But to hesitate meant death, for Umzilikazi would not tolerate so much as a moment of hesitation in obeying his orders, not even from an izanusi. So with loud yells the whole band dashed forward, and with their green boughs beat out the flames, which, indeed, were spreading fiercely in the dry grass.

“‘Is the King satisfied?’ said Masuka, as, having prostrated himself, he rose to his knees.

“Umzilikazi looked at him steadily for a moment. Then his eyes grew stern, and we who saw it trembled.

“‘Do you know what we do with abatagati?’ he said.

“‘My life is in the King’s hands,’ answered the old Mosutu without flinching.

“‘Ha! the death of the hot stones. Let us see now if the fire-maker can also be the fire-quencher!’ said the King, giving a sign. And in obedience thereto those in attendance for such purposes sprang forward to seize the old man; while others, with incredible rapidity, kindled fire and fanned it to a roaring blaze. Into this several flat stones were placed. Au! Nkose, it is a terrible thing, the death of the hot stones! A man may live a whole day in agony of torment, for the stones are placed upon his naked body and held on him with sticks until they burn their own way into his vitals.

“Those whose work it was to hold down the Umtagati while he underwent this torment were not over-fond of the task, for the manifestation of his powers which old Masuka had afforded had struck fear into us all. But even this was small in comparison with the wrath of the King, so there was no hesitation. In a moment the old man lay stretched on his back; already the slayers were bringing the stones hot from the fire to place upon him. Yet these preparations he was watching without the smallest sign of fear.

“‘Hold!’ cried the King.

“Those who bore the hot stones – which were carried resting in the middle of two sticks – paused.

“‘Release him.’

“This, too, was immediately done.

“‘I was but trying thee, old man,’ said Umzilikazi; ‘I was but trying thee, and right well hast thou come through the ordeal. Yet, I think, had I detected but a sign of fear, I would have left thee to the terrible death of torture. But I see thou art afraid of nothing, and I love such, wherefore I grant thee thy life.’

“‘Baba! Nkose!’ (‘Father! Chief!’) cried old Masuka, prostrating himself and kissing the King’s foot. And all men, with right hand uplifted, shouted with a mighty voice in praise of the King’s justice and the King’s mercy.

“Thus came it about that the Mosutu witch-doctor was adopted as one of ourselves.”

Chapter Six.

A Formidable Rival

“Shortly after these things happened, it befell that I was alone in attendance upon the King, in his hut; for although, being on the march, no kraal could be built, yet if we came to a halting-place he liked, Umzilikazi would cause a few huts to be erected for himself and his wives.

“‘Well, Untúswa,’ he said to me, being in a chatty mood, for he would ofttimes unbend thus and talk familiarly with me when we were alone together, while keeping great indunas like my father, or Gungana, at a distance, and in humble attitude. But, then, me he regarded as a child. ‘Well, Untúswa, and what think you of this stranger izanusi, whom Gungana has brought us? Is it for good or for ill that he is among us?’

“‘Who am I, that I should presume to answer such a question, O Great Great One?’ I said. ‘Yet his múti was wonderful – it caused all men to tremble.’

“The King laughed.

“‘Did I tremble, son of Ntelani? Was there fear in my face?’ he said.

“‘Fear? Fear in the eyes of the Elephant whose tread shaketh the world! Now, my father, how could such a thing be?’ I answered.

“‘Good,’ he said, filling out a measure of snuff. Then, with his spoon arrested in mid-air: ‘I think he has come among us for good, Untúswa. Gungana did well to spare his life and bring him hither.’

“Now, I bethought me that this praise should have been mine. Had the King’s mind been different on the matter, then Gungana was welcome to all the responsibility of it. Now, not so. Wherefore I said – being young, and believing as we still do when young, that right, and not might, is right:

“‘That is but a blind side of the case, O Black Black One! I it was who spared the old Mosutu’s life – who not only spared, but saved it – and that in order that he might show the powers of his múti before the eyes of the King.’

“And then I told the whole tale of how I had saved the magician from the spears even of my brethren-in-arms. But I was not quite prepared for the manner in which it was received.

“‘So, Untúswa, you are a bigger man than your induna?’ said Umzilikazi, in that quiet, half-laughing, but terrible voice he took when he desired to make men’s hearts tremble within them. ‘And did you think, then, to tell me what I knew not – I, to whom all things are known; to whom not a single thing passes unknown, Untúswa, not one single thing?’

“Au, Nkose! Then, as the King spoke these words, I knew what fear was if I had never known before. For I thought of Nangeza, and of the sure penalty that we had incurred. No wonder that, with the King’s terrible eyes upon me, seeming to burn the very thoughts out of my breast – no wonder, Nkose, I should have felt myself growing grey with fear. But I cried aloud in praise of the wisdom of the Great Great One, and so akin is the most desperate fear to the most intrepid valour, that I – at that moment when the King was in the most to be dreaded of all his moods – took upon myself to urge my claim to the promised reward. Even while doing so I felt that I was digging my own grave. But to my surprise the King burst out laughing.

“‘Au!’ he cried. ‘Ntelani has bred a lion-cub indeed, and one who knows not fear. But here again, Untúswa, are you not showing yourself, for all your valour, to be but a child? The firing of the kraal was a right valorous deed; yet where was the valour of it in comparison with that of standing before the King this day, to belittle one of the King’s indunas, and to importune the King at a moment when he would fain sleep? Valour without wisdom means but the destruction of its owner, wherefore learn judgment before aspiring to the isicoco. Now go, Untúswa, the would-be kehla.’ (Head-ringed man.)

“I shouted the King’s titles and went out. But although flattery was on my tongue, hatred and fury were in my heart – the former begotten of those mocking words, the latter of bitter and galling disappointment. I had distinguished myself as surely no young warrior had ever done before. I had gone singlehanded and alone into the midst of swarming enemies, and had saved the day to our impi on the point of defeat. I had, in sparing the Mosutu witch-doctor, performed an act which was gratifying to the King, and when I claimed credit for it, he had curtly given me to understand that I was a fool. I had made an enemy of a powerful induna rather than forego one hair’s-breadth of my claim to distinction. All this I had done deeming my reward near at hand, and sure; but the King had mocked me, and driven me forth with jeering laughter. Well, whether he knew everything or not, death could come but once, and the enjoyment of life was a thing of the present.

“Fired by these thoughts, I sped forth to the place where I knew I should find Nangeza helping to herd her father’s cattle. She was there, even as I expected, with her little sister, Sitele. I gave her a sign as I passed – for there were other women within sight and I dared not be seen speaking with her – and sped on as though I were going to look for game. But once out of sight of all, I doubled back until I came to a deep, bushy valley which was cleft by a watercourse, now dry. Here I sat down and waited; nor was it long before I was joined by Nangeza.

“‘Ha! is that you, son of Ntelani!’ she cried, pretending surprise in case our meeting was witnessed. ‘I have come here to cut firewood,’ showing a thong for tying it in a bundle.

“‘There is no one here. We are quite safe, for I have examined the place well,’ I answered, drawing her into a still more hidden spot. Then I told her all that had happened, and how the King had again refused my prayer to be allowed to tunga. And the worst of it was I dared not apply again for a long time to come. It would almost certainly cost me my life to do so.

“‘Not that it matters,’ I ended sorrowfully. ‘It seems to me, Nangeza, that life has no more value – I, who am destined to remain an umfane for ever, to do deeds of valour for which others get all the praise.’

“‘I, too, have ill news for thee, Untúswa,’ she said. ‘This day has lobola been sent to my father’s house – for me.’

(Lobola: The price in cattle paid by the intending bridegroom to the parent or guardian of a girl.)

“‘Ha!’ I cried. Then a sort of cold despair came over me. ‘And has your father accepted it?’ I said.

“‘No. He says it is not enough.’

“‘They all say that at first,’ I answered. ‘But he will accept it or demand a little more. And now, Nangeza, who is the sender of the lobola?’

“‘Gungana, the King’s induna.’

“‘U’gungana!’ I roared, springing to my feet and gripping my assegais. ‘Hau! I will kill him, though I die myself in doing so!’

“‘Gahle, gahle! (Gently, gently!) Untúswa!’ she cried, flinging her arms round me, and dragging me back by main force.

“‘U’Gungana! Hau! the jackal, the coward dog!’ I went on, in the fury and ungovernable excitement into which the news had thrown me. ‘He stole the praise that was due to me! he claimed credit for the deed he was too cowardly to perform himself! he it is who has poisoned the King’s ear against me! He shall die – shall die this day!’

“‘He shall not, Untúswa. Listen now – no, you cannot fling me off. I am too strong for even you to do that, and I will not let you go. Listen, now, to what I have to say.’

“She spoke truly. I could not shake her off. Calmed by her voice, I sat down gloomily to listen, and bit by bit she unfolded to me a most amazing plan.

“‘It is even as the King has just told you, son of Ntelani,’ she ended up. ‘Valour without wisdom is the destruction of its owner. Be guided by me, and one day you shall be a greater man than Gungana. I shall be your Inkosikazi yet.’

(Inkosikazi: The principal wife of a chief.)

“‘Hail, Inkosikazi! We bow down to thee! We do thee obeisance, Inkosikazi!’

“And shrill screams of mocking laughter from the bush on the other side of the donga accompanied this most startling interruption.

“‘Now, these spies shall die, else are the two of us dead!’ I muttered in desperation, gripping my assegais and making to spring across the donga. But again Nangeza restrained me.

“‘Gahle, gahle! Wilt thou never learn wisdom?’ she whispered. ‘They are but girls. Speak to them fair.’

“‘Come forth,’ I cried, ‘lest I come to seek you!’

“‘Spare yourself the trouble, son of Ntelani!’ they cried, laughing, and stepping from their hiding-place.

“Three there were. Two of them were sisters; the other I recognised as a distant relation of my father Ntelani. And then the awful consternation which had entered my mind at the idea of our deadly plot having been overheard gave way to relief as I remembered that Nangeza’s voice had been sunk to the lowest of whispers. Only the last words had been uttered aloud, and these, if absurd, were not perilous. Gungana, as the commander of my own regiment, would be a natural object of emulation; nor was my love’s ambition to see me a leader of men the less natural.

“‘Hail, Izintombi (Maidens)!’ I cried, with a loud laugh. ‘You do well thus to greet Nangeza. For I intend to lobola for all three of you, as well as for her. Then will she be your Inkosikazi indeed.’

“‘Has the King already granted you the head-ring, Untúswa?’ asked one of the two sisters, when the screams of laughter with which they heard my remark had subsided.

“‘You cannot lobola for all of us,’ said the other girl; ‘for am I not Ntelani’s “sister”?’

(Sister or Cousin means ‘related.’ The impediment of ‘consanguinity’ is respected with extraordinary rigour, and no Zulu will marry even the most distant cousin, or any girl whom there may be reason to suspect of sharing the very faintest strain of his blood.)

“‘Whau! that is the more the pity,’ I said. ‘As things are, I meant to have sent lobola for all three of you, although I am but poor. For how could I make choice of one or two where all are so perfect?’

“This I said in order to keep the good word of their tongues, lest they might whisper abroad evil concerning Nangeza and myself, for even then, Nkose, I knew that the surest way to a woman’s heart was to tickle her ears with soft and pleasant speech.

“‘Yau! Only hear him!’ they cried. ‘The son of Ntelani has found his tongue. Forget not, then, when the Great Great One allows thee to tunga. Forget not, then, thy word. Fare thee well now, Untúswa – also his Inkosikazi!’

“And away they sped, laughing and singing. Not until the sound of their voices had died out did I again speak.

“‘I had rather we had not met these, Nangeza,’ I said. ‘What if they chatter?’

“‘That they will not do. They know you are in the King’s favour, Untúswa; besides, you are a famous fighter, and no girl among us would do anything to injure you. But this place is too open. Come, I know of a better.’

“We plunged into the most tangled recesses of the bush, and here, where the boughs met overhead, with creepers trailing in long lines like the white beards of old men, we rested. But our talk was of love, not of the weighty plan wherein life was the stake, about which we had talked before.

“Suddenly there was a rustling noise in the bushes close to us, and, lo! in the most startling manner there rose up the heads of two great mambas. At sight of us they gave vent to a furious hiss, waving their crests to and fro.

“We Zulus, you know, Nkose, like not to kill a serpent, for the guardian spirit who watches over us often takes that shape, and how can we make war upon it? So when these two mambas rose up against us I lifted no weapon. I only prayed, ‘O’zinyoka, do us no hurt,’ and the two of us withdrew. But as we did so the serpents slowly followed us, with crests erect, and hissing. At last they ceased to follow us, and we could hear the rustle of the bushes as they returned. Then we sat down again – and – Whau!, Nkose! when people are young, and the talk is of love, time goes upon eagle wings. Suddenly Nangeza cried out that we must part, for the sun would soon be down and we had some distance to travel if we would pass the King’s outposts before dark.

“We arose to retrace our steps. Already the thorns and dry grass were beginning to crackle under our feet, when I caught Nangeza’s wrist and breathed:

“‘Silence!’

“The place where we had first rested was on the edge of an open glade, and the distance we had withdrawn from this while retiring before the serpents was about twice that to which a man could fling a spear. On one side of this glade stood a tall rock.

“‘Men are coming,’ I whispered – ‘armed men.’

“We stood thus as still as stones, listening hard. Then I could hear, re-echoed back from the face of the rock, the light tread of feet, the rustle of branches pushed aside, and now and then the rattle of assegai hafts; and soon, as we crouched low to the earth, we could hear an armed force advance into the open glade and halt.

“Now, Nkose, my heart stood still, for I remembered the King’s words that morning. Could it be that he who knew everything had sent men after us to surprise us two together and kill us? Then I heard a warrior’s deep tones say:

“‘Au! here are footprints – those of an intombi. Those of a man, too!’ he added, as one who has made a discovery. ‘Come, let us see where they lead.’

“Crouching down among the thorns and long dry grass we lay, expecting our end; for to be found thus together, at this distance from the camp, meant certain death. There was not a chance for us. We heard the parting of the bushes – then, from where we lay, we could see the heads of several men following our trail, and, but that the trees threw a darkness around and they were too intent on reading their way, they could not have failed to see us. No, there was no escape. We should be seized, dragged before the King, and not another sun should we see rise.

“But then, while the bitterness of death lay dark upon our hearts, we saw the foremost of the men stop, with a startled look upon his face. Then a quick exclamation escaped him, and he and the rest turned, and went back again. And we knew the meaning of that hissing noise, and the prayer to the serpents cried out by the warriors as they retreated was the same as my own.

“When they returned to the impi, the leader was angry with them.

“‘What?’ we could hear him say. ‘Are we come out to do the King’s errand, that a number of you should turn from your way to follow upon the tracks of a man and a maid? What have we to do with such, I say? Good indeed was it, that the Izinyoka should have been there to teach so many fools their duty. Now we must on.’

“Then we heard the rattle of assegais and shields as once more the impi fell into rank, and soon the sound of their footsteps died into silence. We left our hiding-place cautiously, and as we went we were very full of thankfulness to our Izinyoka, who had come in our path, and in the path of those who would have found us, and had saved us from destruction; and we debated as to the part our serpents had played, and we decided that the serpent of Nangeza, being that of prudence, was the one which had obliged us to retire from our first hiding-place, while the influence of my serpent, being that of the warrior, was the one which availed to drive back the searchers – as befitting the serpent of such a warrior as myself – and who may say that this was not so.? At any rate, the joining together of our two Izinyoka, to protect us, struck us as a good omen for the future; for where should we have been had we remained in our first resting-place – where now, had not those who were searching been frightened back?

“But although we had so far escaped, yet were we in the greatest jeopardy. For the sun was nearly down, and how should we reach the camp, each by a roundabout way, before it grew dark? and how should we pass the King’s outposts after? Nangeza might go in by herself, pleading some excuse; but I – how was I to remain out? for even though the King should not require my attendance upon him – and on this I could not reckon – yet he who wanders abroad at night incurs peril from the staff of the ‘smeller-out,’ for we hold that tagati always takes place during the hours of darkness, and the man who loves to wander abroad at such times, what can he be seeking but means to practise the foul and evil spells of wizardry?