Chapter Sixteen.
Of a New Witch-Finding.
Dingane was very angry when we returned to Nkunkundhlovu, and, indeed at first, it looked as though some would pay for our repulse with their lives. But that was no time for sacrificing skilled leaders of men, and winning the resentment of their relatives and following; and this the King knew. So, with gloomy and bitter reproaches, he dismissed us.
The first step taken by the two principal izinduna, Tambusa and Umhlela, was to send out and muster every available man throughout the land. All were enrolled, even those whose youth would have precluded them from bearing arms yet awhile, and several new regiments were formed; and while this was going on, a careful watch was kept upon the movements of the Amabuna, for we knew not what they might attempt next. It was intended to attack them again before more could join them, but the idea was abandoned, for careful observation showed that we should stand but small chance of success, so warily did they move; scouting the land far and wide, and camping in such strength. So our people watched and waited, biding their time.
Now all this, Nkose, in no wise helped forward my plans. I had hoped that we should have made an end of these invaders, and that then Dingane would have sent forth a strong impi to crush Umzilikazi. So should I have obtained my revenge. But with such a formidable foe upon our borders as these Amabuna, the King would not have a single regiment out of call; wherein, of course, he was wise.
All of which did not help me, for now there was no more fighting my heart grew heavy once more as I thought of Lalusini and how she was lost to me; of my high position among my former nation forfeited for ever. And, indeed, my position among the parent stock was becoming daily far from secure, and I was looked coldly on by many who had been most friendly before, and even by the King himself. This I attributed to the influence of Tambusa, who had always hated me, and would be glad if by any means he could compass my death. Afterwards I learned that I was right, for, in his jealousy of me, Tambusa never lost a chance of poisoning the mind of Dingane against me, more than hinting that the repulse of the impi was due to my presence in the battle in a position of command. More and more then did I feel that I was stumbling upon the edge of a very high cliff. More and more did I awaken each morning to wonder if I should see the setting of another sun.
Then something occurred which still farther deepened my forebodings. On returning from an expedition which had lasted but a few days, I found that one of my Swazi wives had disappeared. None knew what had happened to her, but I could see by their looks that it were better not to inquire too closely. Well, it mattered not. One girl was as good as another since the loss of Lalusini, and I still had two remaining. But she who had disappeared was that same girl who had been by my side what time I had dreamed; and she, too, had awakened in fear, declaring that a vision had passed through the hut, and I thought that the disappearance of this one, rather than that of the other two, augured ill—how, I knew not.
As the days went by, the gloom that lay upon the mind of the King deepened, and herein the izanusi—ever eager for blood, or for gain—saw their opportunity. The wizardry which had wrought ill for our arms must be removed. So there was “smelling out,” and many were killed; but still the invaders did not melt away in fear, as the witch doctors had promised. On the contrary, they grew stronger; for others crossed Kwahlamba to join them.
Then the izanusi declared they had seen other visions—had received a new and important revelation, to the effect that the workers of tagati had not yet been discovered, but should be by an entirely new method. But Dingane was becoming weary of them and their trickeries. He sent for Tola, the chief of the izanusi, and roundly told him to use what methods he liked, but if his prophecies fell short of fulfilment this time death should be his reward.
The land seemed shaken by a shudder of ill-ease. The warriors were growing impatient once more to be sent against the Amabuna, but the counsels of Umhlela, that we should wait for our enemies to make the first move—as they surely would—prevailed. So when the word went forth that all were to assemble at Nkunkundhlovu for a great witch-finding, an eagerness of relief went through all; for now we would see what the new method, as announced by the izanusi, would bring forth.
Many a “smelling out” had I witnessed, Nkose, as you know, and the truth was, I hated them. I had been too much among the heads of the nation not to know what their real object was, however much the common people might be deceived, and believe—or pretend to—in the power of the izanusi. I had known but two real magicians in my life—Masuka, the old Mosutu, and Lalusini, my sorceress wife—and these used not their powers to destroy any, save real evil-doers; never to take the lives of brave men for the sake of gain or malice. All others I knew to be jugglers and impostors, and that Tola and his following were of this order I had long since determined. So there was no eagerness in my mind as on the day appointed I sat near the King, in the midst of the other izinduna, while the witch doctors began in their usual way.
The open space within the great kraal was densely packed, save that room was left for the wild dancing and other ceremonies employed by the izanusi. These ran up and down, mouthing and bellowing, and shaking the ornaments of their calling—bladders filled with blood, festoons of entrails of sacrificed beasts, bunches of feathers and bird’s claws, and snakes and lizards. Now and again they would halt, and pointing with their wands, tipped with giraffe tail, at some one in the crowd, would name him, calling, out a string of instances of witch dealing. This one held converse with a black baboon, that one slept all day and only moved out at night, another was reputed to eat snakes, and so forth. All so named were immediately led forth to the place of slaughter; but I noticed that among them was no person of any consequence. The witch doctors, to all appearance, were destroying them out of sheer wanton craving for blood.
Dingane was growing impatient. His brows were wrinkled into a heavy frown. Not for such a well-worn exhibition as this, surely, had the bulk of the nation been convened. If so, then indeed it would go ill with Tola and his following. This was running in the mind of the King; and I, who sat near him, could see into his thoughts.
Now the witch doctors ceased in their mouthings, and suddenly, from behind them, appeared a band of girls. There might have been three score of them, and they seemed to have been chosen from the handsomest and finest of the nation. They were arrayed in the richest beadwork, and wore wreaths of green leaves upon their heads and twined around their shapely limbs. A strange band, indeed, to spring up suddenly from the midst of those wizard-hounds of blood and of death.
They advanced, swaying to a measured dancing step, and softly singing. A deep murmur of amazement and delight arose from all; for this was a fair and goodly sight, and all welcomed it as a relief from the grim hideousness of the witch doctors. A weight of fear seemed lifted from the minds of many. These, surely, were not here to doom to death.
But as their singing rose louder and louder, as I caught the burden of their song, I, for one, felt by no means so sure. They sang of a nation cursed by an evil blight, of the counsels of strangers, of the first repulse the great Zulu power had ever known, of the presence of strangers in the ranks of the lion-cubs, of the presence of a stranger. And every time they repeated the words they would sway round so as to face me, as I sat among the izinduna at the right hand of the King.
Then, Nkose, the nerves within me seemed to tingle. Well knew I the meaning of this. I was the object of their denunciations. Any moment now I might step into the Dark Unknown. Doom had found me at last. I was being “smelt out.”
Well, indeed, could I see through it all now. This had been arranged between Tambusa, my enemy, and Tola, the head izanusi. The singing band of girls, designed to add novelty to the witch finding, as well as to please Dingane, had for its object my death. The red cloud began to surge around my brain as I sat there. Not in me was it to die tamely; and softly I reached forth for the stick which was the only approach to a weapon which custom allowed upon such an occasion, and calculated how great a spring would enable me to crush in Tambusa’s skull ere they could lay hands on me. The death of the stake would be my lot; no matter—I must slay somebody.
The band of singing-girls swayed nearer and nearer; then with a rush of their light feet they came straight for me. Now for the doom. But—not yet. Some unseen force seemed to turn them back again. They held on around the circle, not having pointed at or named me.
This happened several times, and each time I looked to hear the word of doom, each time I tightened up my muscles for my spring upon Tambusa. Each time, too, the song denunciatory of “the stranger” grew fiercer, each time only to sink and die away in their throats. Then the izanusi, as in encouragement, lifted up their deep hoarse voices, as the voices of beasts growling for blood.
Whau, Nkose! I can see it all still—for at such moments a man may seem to live a thousand lifetimes—the immense kraal, with its ringed fences and vast circles of yellow huts—the assembled multitude blackening the earth in its awed hush—the sea of expectant faces—the countenance of the King sternly set, those of the izinduna expressionless as stones—the band of singing-girls—the savage eyes of the witch doctors—and, as a background to the whole, a brooding sky, blue-black with the threatenings of its pent-up storm.
Once more, encouraged by the wild howling of the izanusi, this strange band of doom came whirling towards me. This time I was gone. But, no! They halted more suddenly than before, and their song seemed to die on their very lips. Then I looked up from calculating the distance between my stick and the skull of Tambusa, and beheld—a woman!
She was standing alone in the open, midway between the cloud of scowling witch doctors and the band of girls, and there was that in her wondrous eyes which constrained and controlled the latter. She, too, was arrayed in rich beadwork, but wore no wreaths or garlands of leaves, and as I gazed upon her standing there—a splendid and majestic form—why then, Nkose, anybody who chose might have stepped up and slain me, unresisting in my amazement. For she who stood there was none other than my lost sorceress-wife, Lalusini.
Had the shades sent forth their spirits? Had the grim alligators in Umzilikazi’s pool of death shrank back in fear from so royal a prey? Was I dreaming, or had I gone mad with the prolonged suspense of my impending doom? No! In the very life there she stood—she to avenge whom I would have slain a king—would have destroyed a whole mighty nation. And she stood there to avert from me the sure and dreadful death—the death of the man at whom the witch-wand has been pointed.
One glance she flashed upon me from her wonderful eyes—quick, full, penetrating—one glance and no more; but in that glance I knew I was safe, for who should harm one whom the most marvellous magic ever known now protected?
For some time thus she stood, speaking no word, only gazing around with calm commanding eyes. Then the King grew impatient.
“Have done,” he exclaimed, with a frown. “Let us see whether the magic of Mahlula is greater than that of Tola.”
“The magic of Mahlula,” had said Dingane. Then Lalusini was not known. Yet it seemed to me the majesty of the House of Senzangakona was so stamped upon every feature that her very look must betray her.
“Judge now for thyself, Father of the Wise,” she replied. “This is the word of Mahlula. The ‘stranger’ of whom Tola speaks, of whom his company did but now sing, is not here, else these”—showing with a sweep of the hand the band of girls, who had ceased their movements and were now sitting in a ring around her—“these whom I have trained and taught would have found him—for my will works through theirs—my eyes see through theirs. Therefore, he cannot be here.”
“Why, then, are we?” said Dingane, with a meaning in his tone that boded ill for Tola and his following.
“Was it to learn the fate of a nation, Great Great One?” answered Lalusini, or Mahlula, as she was known here. “Learn it then so far. The end is not yet. But—I see the shook of war. I see men and horses advancing. The lion-cubs of Zulu flee before them. But lying behind the hills on either side is a dark cloud of terrible ones. Still they advance, those whites. Then that cloud whirls down upon them, breaks over them. Ha! There are death-screams as the flash of the spears rises and falls, and horses straggling, hoofs in air, and the song of those black ones is a battle-song of triumph.”
Now I saw that the speaker had fallen into one of those divining trances I knew so well, and in which all she foretold had come to pass. Dingane, too, began to see this, and asked eagerly, yet not without awe in his tone:
“And when shall this be, sister?”
“Hearken to no idle counsels. Heed no false magic,” she answered, with meaning. “I, and I alone, can see into the future. Be led by me if this nation would live.”
With these words, I, who looked, saw the vision pass away from Lalusini’s countenance, and her eyes were as those of one who awakens out of a deep sleep. The King, too, must have seen it, for he forebore to question her further. Then he spoke, low at first, but raising his voice in a black and terrible burst of wrath.
“Now of yon impostors I will make an end. Take them away, ye black ones.” And he pointed with his spear at Tola and his following.
At the word of the King, the slayers sprang forward. But the witch doctors fled howling, and keeping in a compact body, broke through all who stood in their path, and the lower end of the kraal became full of the kicking, tumbling bodies of men. But the slayers were among them; and the people barring their way to the lower gate, they were seized and dragged, howling and shrieking, without the kraal. And as the knobkerries fell with a heavy thud upon their cunning and bloodthirsty brains, a murmur of fierce delight escaped all who heard, for the people hated these wolves of izanusi, and rejoiced that they themselves should taste the death they loved to deal out to others.
There was one, however, who did not so rejoice, and that was Tambusa; indeed at first he had made a movement to stay the word, which was that of doom to the izanusi; but the look on the face of Dingane was so fell and deadly, that even the boldness of Tambusa quailed before it.
And I—Whau!—I rejoiced that I still lived, and that Tola was dead. But Tambusa did not.