The King's Assegai: A Matabili Story

“Long before we reached the camp it grew quite dark, and now we did not separate, for I would not leave Nangeza; for multitudes of wild beasts accompanied our migration, because of the abundant feasts we provided them with almost daily – even the flesh of men – and already we could hear their roarings and snarlings in the darkness. Moreover, it might be easier for two to pass the outposts together, than to double the chances of failure by making two separate attempts.

“As we advanced, noiselessly, stealthily, in the gloom, we heard a low humming sound, which seemed to come from the earth. We stood for a moment holding our breath, for we knew that sound. It was the voice of a man, singing, and he might have been twelve spear-lengths in front of us. We knew the ground also. We were in a little valley between two low hills. Probably on each of the latter was another sentinel. Nangeza threw her skin kaross over both our heads, and breathed forth her plan – for the plan was hers. I was for taking the risk of slipping past – she, for the bolder but safer method of overpowering the sentinel.

“Worming like serpents along the ground, we made our way up behind him bit by bit, and the time consumed must have been enormous, for we would not risk failure for the sake of impatience. But this fool surely courted his own undoing, for he sat there singing. Every time he stopped singing we stopped in our advance, but so fond was he of his own voice that he soon began again. Then Nangeza, creeping up behind him, flung her kaross over his head, at the same time throwing her arms around him and pinioning his tightly to his sides.

“The man struggled, but with the kaross over his head and in his mouth he could not cry out. Still, he struggled, and it took us both all we could do to master him quickly. We could easily have killed him, but had decided it were better not to. At length, with the thong Nangeza had brought to tie the firewood we bound him hand and foot, having gagged him with his own mútya, and thus we left him.

“All this while we had spoken no word, lest our voices should be recognised by him; further, we had been careful to leave nothing which might lead to suspicion travelling our way. We were now safe within the outposts, and in the huge camp we could easily pass unnoticed. It was time to separate, and as we did so Nangeza said:

“‘Farewell now, Untúswa. Have patience and courage. I shall see thee an induna yet.’

“‘That may be so,’ I answered rather gloomily, for now that the adventure was over all my foreboding and disappointment came back. ‘But we have only seen the first of this night’s doings. The last may wear a very different sort of countenance.’

“And thus we parted.

“Now, Nkose, a portion of my gloom came of the knowledge of what would happen to the sentinel whom we had overpowered. Death would be his lot as surely as though I had driven my spear through his heart. I had a mind to go back and loose him, but that would mean giving my life for his, and I was not tired of life just yet. Moreover, it would mean the sacrifice of Nangeza also, and it were better that one person should perish than that two should. Yet, being still young and soft of heart, I felt sad as I thought of the doomed sentinel.”

Chapter Seven.

The Fate of the Sentinel

“When I told Nangeza that we had seen but the beginning of the night’s doings, Nkose, I spoke no more than the truth. The sentinel whom we had overpowered was found towards morning just as we had left him – tied and gagged; yet not, for he had managed to roll over and over until he came near enough to another outpost, who was about to fling a spear through him, thinking it an enemy approaching in the darkness. Better, indeed, if he had.

“Now, if there was one thing upon which Umzilikazi was strict, one rule the punishment of violating which, in the very smallest degree, was certain and merciless, that, was military discipline. By such discipline the great King Tshaka had become great, and with him the Zulu people; and it Umzilikazi, the founder and first King of a new nation, was resolved to maintain at its highest. So when heralds went round at an early hour crying aloud that all must assemble before the King —indunas and fighting men, women and children, boys and old men who were past bearing arms; not one of whatever estate was to be absent on pain of death – when the people heard this, I say, many feared, but none were surprised. All thought there was to be a great ‘smelling out’ of abatagati, and, indeed, it ended in such. Only I and Nangeza knew the principal reason of the assembly, and secretly we feared.

“Whau! it was a sight, that muster! The warriors, crouching behind their shields, formed two immense half-circles, and behind them the women and children, the cloud of fear lying heavy upon their faces. The izinduna sat in a group a little distance from the King’s hut.

“It happened that I was appointed shield-bearer to the King, and this went far to remove my fears, for had any suspicion attached to me, I should not have been the man told off to stand behind the Great Great One on such an occasion as this. As Umzilikazi came forth, I walking before him with the great white shield held aloft, two izimbonga ran before us in a crouching attitude shouting aloud the names of the Great Great One; and the rattle of assegai hafts was as the quiver of the forest trees in a gale as the great half-circles of warriors bent low, echoing in a mighty rolling voice the words of the izimbonga.

“‘Ho, Yisobantu! Indhlovu ’nkulu! Ho, Inyoka ’mninimandhla! Ho, Inkunzi ’mnyama! Ho, ’Nkulu-’nkulu.’”

(O Father of the People! Great Elephant! O All-powerful Serpent! O Black Bull! O Great One!)

“The King seated himself upon a carved block of wood which was covered with a leopard’s skin, I taking up my position behind him, holding the white shield. On either side were ranged the young men of the royal body-guard, fully armed. Then he gave orders that the defaulting sentinel should be brought before him.

“In the midst of four warriors of his own regiment, unarmed, of course, but not bound, the man drew near. He was a young man, tall and strong, and a feeling of profound pity was in the hearts of all; for, fine warrior as he was, all knew he was doomed. His offence was one which the King could not pardon. He did obeisance, uttering one word, ‘Baba!’ (Father!) But as he rose one look at his face, which, though sad, was full of the dignity of fearlessness, caused my heart to stand still – for I recognised my brother, Sekweni. I had doomed to death my own father’s son. Then the Great Great One spoke:

“‘When a soldier of the King is set to guard the safety of the King, he has eyes to see with and ears to hear with. He has weapons to fight with, and strength wherewith to use them. Yet all these are of no use to him, since, being in full possession of them all, the King’s sentinel is found at his post tied up, and gagged, and useless as a wooden log.’

“Umzilikazi paused a moment, looking the young warrior full in the face with a bitter and scornful expression. Then, in that quiet and stinging tone, which he adopted when in the most terrible of his moods, he went on:

“‘When a soldier of the King allows himself to be turned into a log for one night, is it not meet that he should be turned into one for ever? Now a log has no eyes to see with and no ears to hear with; it has no hands, no arms, no legs.’

“Then, Nkose, it seemed to me that I had come to the end of my life. Here was I obliged to stand by while my own father’s son was put to a most hideous and disgraceful death, through my means, and keep silence. I was on the point of speaking, of proclaiming myself the offender, when, from my position behind the King, I caught sight of Nangeza standing among the women, so tall and stately and splendid, and the recollection that if I spoke the lives of two would be taken instead of the life of one came back to me. Nay, further, I remembered that though Nangeza and myself would certainly be adjudged to die the death, the King would, not any the more on that account spare the life of my brother, Sekweni, whose offence was an unpardonable one.

“‘A sentinel who is surprised and overpowered at his post is clearly of no use at all,’ went on the King. ‘We do not keep anything that is of no use, not even a dog. What hast thou to say, son of Ntelani?’

“‘This, O Black Elephant,’ answered my brother. ‘I was bewitched!’

“‘Ha! that is not much of a story,’ said the King; ‘though a stout hide thong may bind about a man a powerful spell. Yet, tell thy tale.’

“‘The spell was a female spell, O King!’ replied my brother. And then he went on to tell how his seizure and binding had been done by feminine hands. The forms of those who had thus made him captive were the forms of women, and most perfectly moulded women, he declared. Of this he had been assured during the struggle, and the spells they had woven round him had rendered him powerless. Was not this ample proof that he had been bewitched? since what living woman would undertake to overpower and bind one of the King’s sentinels? Wizardry of the most dreaded kind was at work here.

“Now, when I heard this, I trembled for Nangeza. Why would she stand forth thus, so prominent among the other women, in all the splendid vigour of her symmetrical frame? What if the King’s eye should fall upon her? What if a new idea should arise in his mind?

“‘Thy story seems to hang together well, Sekweni,’ said the King. ‘But this thong,’ holding up the one wherewith Sekweni had been bound, ‘savoureth rather more of mortal hands. It is such as would be used to place around the horns of cattle, or as women would tie up burdens with – or firewood.’

“At these words, Nkose, my eyes well-nigh leaped from my head with fear. He who knew all things had spoken those words.

“‘Here, too, is what was rent from a skin kaross,’ went on the Great Great One, holding up a small strip of spotted skin. ‘It is as a fragment of a woman’s garment. So far thy tale holdeth, son of Ntelani.’

“At this my eyes again sought Nangeza. But she did not meet my glance. There was the same half-amused and wholly fearless expression in her face. What a wonderful girl she was! I thought, my own fears vanishing as I saw how full of courage she was.

“‘Now, confess, umfane!’ said the King suddenly, speaking quickly and bending upon my brother a terrible frown. ‘Are not these all lies? Hast thou not been the author of thine own undoing, by having dealings with a woman while thou shouldest have been watching at thy post?’

“‘No lies have I told, O Great Great One, in whose light we live,’ answered Sekweni steadily. ‘It is as I have said – I was bewitched.’

“‘Good,’ said the King. ‘Now will we get to the root of this. Come forth, ye snakes of the darkness!’

“At these words the doors of three of the huts opened, and there burst forth from them the whole company of the izanusi. They were smeared with blood and napping with entrails, and with their charms of bird-claws and human bones, snakes’ skins and cow-tail tufts, rattling around them, came dancing and leaping before the King, whistling and howling, a most hideous company.

“‘Behold this thong – this bit of skin,’ said Umzilikazi, holding up the articles. ‘Find the owner, ye ringed snakes! Find the owners!’

“The izanusi went howling round the circle as is their wont, and all hearts quailed. Not a man could tell but that a wizard rod should be turned his way; yet on this occasion it was the women who had the most cause to fear, for had not Sekweni declared that his captors wore female shape? All, however, as the witch-doctors ran howling before them, kept up a most doleful song, calling for the speedy finding and punishment of the witch. Still, the izanusi ran twice round the circle without naming anybody, and, indeed, I, among others, thought I knew the reason of this; for it happened that at the last ‘smelling-out’ they had named one of the King’s favourite fighting chiefs, which had so enraged Umzilikazi, whom it had put to so much difficulty in finding a pretext for sparing the denounced man’s life, that he had more than half vowed the death of the witch-doctors the next time they should accuse the wrong person. This, then, was the cause of their hesitation, the more so that they suspected the old Mosutu had been spared in order to supersede themselves.

“But now indeed I had cause to quake, for the izanusi had stopped, and with renewed vigour were howling and dancing in front of the group of women among whom Nangeza was the most prominent. I could see the faces of these women quivering with fear, but not so hers. She echoed the witch-finding song louder than any, seeming to fling it back defiantly into their faces.

“‘We name – ’ they shrieked, flourishing their arms and rattles, and leaping high in the air. The rods were already extended.

“‘We name – ’

“‘Hold!’ cried the King. ‘Go no further. I have a new idea. Where is Masuka? Where is the old Mosutu?’

“‘Here, lord,’ said the old man, coming from a hut close by.

“‘Hast thou been making múti alone, Masuka?’ said the King.

“‘I require no múti, O Black Elephant. That may be needful to such as these.’

“‘I hear thee, Masuka. Look, now. Twice have these izanusi gone round the circle, and yet have named no one. Let them stand aside now, and go thou around it once; for I believe their múti is worn thin, and thy power without it is greater than theirs with it.’

“‘The King shall be satisfied,’ answered the Mosutu.

“Now, although he had been well treated and kept in abundance, the old man had affected no superiority over any of us, great or mean. He had worn only one or two ‘charms,’ and, indeed, there was little about him to denote his estate, unlike our own magicians, who were ever performing strange and mysterious rites. When the time came, he would say, then his power would be proved; meanwhile he was under no necessity to do anything to keep it from tottering. And this was the first time since the fire-making that he had been called upon to exercise his power.

“Now, as he paced round the ring, with nothing in his hand but a short pointed stick, and no ornaments save three black wooden beads suspended to his neck and two gnu’s tails on his left arm, I felt no fear, for he was aware that I, and not Gungana, had saved his life, and I knew he would do nothing to harm me. So I breathed freely and watched the proceedings.

“Unlike the others, Masuka, as he went round the circle, looked at nobody. With his head thrown back, he stared skyward, muttering the while in a strange language, and every now and then breaking into a short yelling chant. But when he returned before the King he had named no one.

“‘Well, Father of the Fire-spirit?’ said Umzilikazi. ‘Who is to die?’

“We saw that blank look come over the old man’s face which had come upon it that other time when we thought him dead. It was as if his spirit had suddenly left his body. Then he fell over and lay on the ground, still, motionless as a stone.

“All gazed upon him with awe and dread, gazed upon him in a silence which was only broken by the deep breathing of the multitude. At length his lips were seen to move. Words came forth:

“‘Who has bewitched the soldier of the King?’

“The voice was so strange and far-away and hollow that it seemed to come from the very depths of the earth. Moreover, the eyes of the old Mosutu were so turned inwards that nothing but the whites were visible at a time. As he proceeded with his questions and answers he would roll his eyeballs around in a manner that was dreadful to behold. It was as if they were quite loose in his head.

“‘Who has bewitched the soldier of the King? Is it Nkaleni?’

“‘It is not Nkaleni.’

“‘Is it Matupe?’

“‘It is not Matupe.’

“‘Is it Nangeza?’

“At these words, Nkose, and the pause that followed them, I was so startled that I nearly let fall the shield upon the royal head-ring, which would have meant my instant death. As it was, I found I was holding it in such wise as to allow the sun to scorch one of the King’s ears; but Umzilikazi was, fortunately, so interested in the witch-finding that he failed to notice it. Then, to my relief, the answer came:

“‘It is not Nangeza.’

“In this way old Masuka ran through a number of names, and the terror upon the countenances of the women named, for they were all women, until the answer came, was something to witness. Then he changed the form of question.

“‘Were there two in it?’

“‘There were two in it.’

“‘Was it Shushungani?’

“Such an exclamation of amazement broke from all, for Masuka had named one of the royal wives. It gathered in intensity as, after a longer pause than before, the answer came:

“‘Shushungani – Shushungani! It was Shushungani!’

“A wild shriek burst from the owner of the name, who was standing among the royal women.

“‘He lies! he lies!’ she screamed in her terror. ‘The stranger isanusi lies!’

“‘Peace, woman!’ thundered the King. ‘Proceed, Masuka.’

“Again followed a number of names, one at last being fixed upon as before. She, too, was of the royal household, though not of the King’s wives, and was called Pangúlwe. With her the naming ceased, and for long the old man lay in death-like silence, nor would the King suffer a word or a sound to be uttered. Then suddenly Masuka returned to life, and, sitting up, looked wonderingly around, as a man waking from a dream who finds himself in a strange place.

“To us there was something especially terrible about this method of ‘smelling-out,’ the old man’s spirit seeming to leave his body thus and to talk with those of the unseen air – so different to the hideous clangour and wild dancing wherewith our own izanusi were wont to proceed – and resulting as it did in the naming of two of the royal women, our awe and wonder was without bounds.

“At a sign from the King the two named were brought forward. Shushungani was a tall, straight woman, very black, and with a sullen countenance and evil eyes. The other, Fangulwe, was young and rather pretty. On the faces of both was a dreadful look of terror over their coming fate.

“‘Is the King bewitched himself,’ cried the former wildly, ‘that this dog of a stranger dares lift his tongue against the royal House?’

“‘It seems that tongues are often lifted within the royal House, Shushungani, and that too much. Even the royal House is not always free from abatagati,’ replied the King, with a sneer. ‘Hambani gahle!’ (‘Go in peace,’ the Zulu form of farewell to anybody leaving.) ‘A peaceful night awaits you both. Take them hence. Stay, though. They are of the Royal House. Let them die the death of the spear!’

“The despairing shrieks of the two women whom the executioners had seized to drag forth to the place of death were completely drowned in the great chorus of bonga that arose by reason of this act of mercy on the part of the King. For he had ordered them the nobler death of the assegai instead of having their brains clubbed out with knobsticks, as the usual method was.

“‘Now that the witches have gone to sleep,’ said the King, ‘it seems right that the bewitched should join them; for in good truth a sentinel at his post should be proof even against the spells of witchcraft.’

“‘I welcome death at the King’s word,’ said Sekweni, who knew he was doomed. ‘But I would first ask a favour of the Great Great One.’

“‘Speak on,’ said the King.

“‘I would ask that I, too, may die the death of the spear – the death of a warrior, of a soldier of the King.’

“‘Ha! thou askest that form of death, son of Ntelani? Yet it is the more painful of the two.’

“‘It is the death of a man, O Black Elephant.’

“‘So be it,’ said Umzilikazi, making a sign to those who stood by for the purpose.

“Then my poor brother was made to sit down on the ground, and in this posture his left arm was drawn high above his head and held there, while a thin-bladed assegai was inserted below his armpit and pressed slowly, slowly downward until it reached the heart. Not a word, not a groan, escaped him in his agony, and at length, with a gasp, he fell over dead.

“In truth, Nkose, my heart was sore; yet had I spoken I could not have saved Sekweni’s life.

“‘Ou! he died bravely,’ said the King, who had been narrowly watching my poor brother’s face, but had failed to detect any sign of shrinking. ‘I love not to order the death of such. Yet he who sleeps while en outpost will surely sleep for ever, be he whom he may. Draw near, Masuka.’

“‘Thou art an isanusi indeed!’ went on Umzilikazi, taking snuff. ‘Thou hast rid the people of two pestilent witches, whose spells have robbed me of one of my bravest fighters. Five cows shalt thou have, old man, to start thee as one of ourselves. Now go.’

“And all the people shouted aloud in praise of the justice and generosity of the King.

“Now, it failed not to be whispered abroad that the naming of the two royal women was a pre-concerted thing, else had even a witch-doctor not dared to name one of the royal House, and, indeed, I at the time believed it. But afterwards I knew it was not so, and that no word had passed, the real truth being that Masuka, since his instalment among us, had made himself all eyes and ears and no tongue. Thus he had divined that Umzilikazi desired not the naming of warriors at the witch-findings, and was displeased with his own izanusi for denouncing such; further, that the woman Shushungani was sharp-tongued and evil-tempered, while the other by her conduct had incurred suspicion, and the King would gladly be rid of them both. So he won great praise from the King for ridding him of these two, and the people felt grateful to him in that he had denounced no one else. As for myself, Nkose, I rejoiced greatly; for Shushungani hated me, and was ever talking into the King’s ear against me.”

Chapter Eight.

The Prophecy of Masuka

“After this the King gave orders that we should break up camp and resume our march, and, Nkose, it was something to see this immense company of people moving onward thus, day after day, in order to found a new nation. Impis were thrown out to right and to left, to ensure that no enemy might take us unawares; for the arm of Tshaka was long, and we could not say for certain that we were beyond the reach of it even then. In front, too, was a strong impi despatched, and this I often accompanied. But we found no enemy, no one to strike, for the terror of our name had gone ahead of us, and when the tribes in our path saw the great herds of game fleeing past them, they cried:

“‘Ou! the tread of the Great Elephant already rumbles on the earth. The hunting dogs of the Zulu draw near…’ And all fled in fear to the rocks and caves of the mountains. However, we seized what they had left, and laid waste their kraals and passed on, for we should have gained nothing by hunting these rats out of their holes.

“These enormous herds of game, too, kept us abundantly in food – eland and quagga and gnu, every species was there – so that we had little need to kill our own cattle. Besides, it afforded us much sport, and kept us active; for not always such harmless and timid game as buck did we seek. In those days, Nkose, we thought no more of slaying a lion with spears than you white people do of shooting it with a gun; and in hunting lions the King took an especial delight, and more than once have I seen Umzilikazi slay with his own spears, and all unaided, the largest and fiercest of lions. In this sport he would often have me to accompany him, and, indeed, on one occasion it would have gone hard with me, in my rashness and anxiety to show my valour under the very eyes of the Great Great One. For I had been overthrown by the rush of a wounded and furious lion, and would certainly have been dead had not the King sprang to the beast’s side and stabbed him to the heart with his own hand. Then he laughed, and again reproached me with my lack of judgment and due cautiousness. Au! but he was a King indeed!

“Nangeza the while was still in her father’s hands, for Gungana, although he desired to possess the girl, was of a close-fisted nature, and would not offer sufficient lobola, saying that the condescension of an induna of the King in taking a girl whose father was of no especial rank should more than make up for the deficiency. But this her father stoutly refused to see; on the contrary, he maintained that a man of Gungana’s rank ought to give more than one who was nobody at all. So the negotiations hung in the air, to my great satisfaction, although this might be short-lived, for at any moment either party might yield.