Chapter Ten.
“Farewell, Gungana!”
“To that night of dreamless sleep there came an awakening at last. The sun was pouring down upon my naked shoulders, and, wounded and exhausted as I was, it seemed that I had awakened in the fire. We had begun the fight at daybreak, but now, as I lifted my head and looked about, the sun was within an hour of his rest. A silence as of the dead reigned around, and from the lofty height where I lay I could see other mountain-tops, some flat like this one, others rent into jagged peaks, rolling around in a confused sea.
“A shadow swept between me and the sun, followed by another and another. I looked up. They were vultures. Then came a flap, flap of wings as a number of them rose from the corpse of a slain Baputi upon which they had already been feeding. A little longer of sleep, of insensibility, and the horrible creatures would have begun upon me likewise!
“Then I rose to my feet. I was covered with blood, and stiff and sore. I ached all over from the blows I had received, but as I stretched my limbs I knew that not a bone was injured, although my bruises were many. But now—to get away from here.
“I looked around. There was no sign of life on the flat summit of the mountain. I looked over the brink of the cliff, which fell straight and sheer to a great depth. There was no sign of life beneath. Our impi would long since have departed, driving before it the spoils in cattle and women, and yet, as I looked down, I seemed not to be looking into the defile by which we had advanced. I, of course, would not be much missed. I should simply be reported as one of the slain.
“And now, as I took in thoroughly the situation, I reckoned that I must have covered a long distance in pursuit of the flying Baputi; for I could not find the outlet by which I had emerged, though more than once I nearly fell headlong into a black fissure or hole which, well-nigh hidden in the long grass, yawned for the bodies of men. These pits, Nkose, were ugly to look upon, so straight and black did they go down. And the depth! Whau! I would drop a stone in and listen, but it seemed long before any sound was heard, and then so far down. Nor was that all; for again I would hear it farther down still, and yet again, till it was enough to chill a man’s blood to listen, such was the depth of these black and horrible holes. And so many of them were there that the difficulty of finding the one by which I had come up would be very great.
“Yet this must be done, for by the flat formation of the mountain, and the height and straightness of the cliffs that belted it, I feared there was no way hence but that by which I had come; and could I even find this, now that the heat of battle was over, I relished not the task of creeping back alone through that gruesome cavern in the darkness, treading over those stark and piled-up corpses both of our warriors and of our foes. Hau! that would be a feat of terror indeed. And then came back to me the visions I had beheld in the múti bowl of old Masuka, and I, who feared no man, nor any number of men coming against me with spear and shield, now trembled. For had not his magic so far proved true—the mountain, the dark crowd of men swarming like ants up the slope, the crash and splitting of the rock, the towering cloud of dust? Ou! it was terrible. The first vision had been fulfilled exactly as I had beheld it in the bowl. In the heat of the assault, the fierceness of the battle, I had lost sight of this; but now it came back with renewed force. As to the other visions also, my memory was strangely beclouded, yet that they too would befall I doubted not.
“Now, as I explored the summit of the mountain, I did so warily, and not showing myself over-much at the edge, for it might well be that some of our enemies had escaped and called together others of the tribe, if others there were, and these, catching sight of me from beneath, might well waylay and kill me by whatever way I might manage to descend. Also I proceeded cautiously, with my broad-bladed, short-hafted assegai in my right hand and my large war-shield in readiness in my left, and thus was prepared for any enemy who might spring up, as it were, out of the ground. Yet, if I would find my way down that night, it must be quickly, for the sun was already touching the mountain-peaks opposite, causing the great ironstone cliff faces to glow like fire.
“Suddenly, rounding a large rock, I came upon a man—a tall man—armed. Up went his shield and assegai in readiness, even as did mine, as I stopped short. Then I saw he was one of ourselves.
“‘Greeting, son of Ntelani,’ he said. ‘What do you here?’
“‘Greeting, Gungana, induna of the King,’ I answered. ‘What do you here?’
“‘Au!’ he cried, springing up from the rock against which he had been leaning, his eyes flashing with anger. ‘Is it in that tone thou talkest to me, thou jackal-whelp—to me, dog-cub?’
“‘Spare me, father,’ I answered in mock fear, for I had a design in deceiving him, ‘spare me! My head has had a hard knock. It may be that.’
“‘In truth, thou speakest only just in time to save thy head from a far harder knock, umfane, for the knobsticks of the King’s executioners come down hard upon the skulls of rebellious soldiers who disobey and insult their commanders.’
“Now, Nkose, my blood boiled within me. The sneering ‘umfane’ to me, who, although not ringed, was yet an inceku, was too much. Gungana should pay for that sneer. Moreover, self-preservation called out loudly within me. For nothing less than my death would satisfy this chief, the deadly import of whose words struck full upon my mind. A charge of mutiny and disobedience brought against me by a commander of Gungana’s standing, the King, reproaching me as he often did with rashness and lack of judgment, could hardly discredit, and would certainly not pardon. It was my death or that of Gungana. But I answered with deference:
“‘How is it you are all alone here, my father? Have all men gone away and left their chief?’
“‘They have, but they shall mourn for it,’ he answered. ‘I followed those abatagati dogs up here alone, but so many and so perilous are the holes that I know not by which one of them we came up nor by which we shall go down.’
“‘By none of them shall we go down, my father,’ I shouted. ‘By none of them shall we go down, for one of us shall remain up here for ever!’
“‘Truly that knock on the head was a hard one,’ he said. ‘The umfane has gone mad, quite mad!’
“‘Not so, induna of the King,’ I answered. ‘It is your death or mine. Now—stand ready!’
“I could have rushed upon and killed him in his first surprise, Nkose, and this was my original intention, yet, much as I hated him, he was a brave man, and had led me to battle almost ever since I was able to fight. Nor, though I have slain many, did I ever like to strike a man unprepared. Wherefore I called upon him to stand to his defence.
“I had not to call upon him twice. As soon as he saw that I meant my words, no time did he give me, for he came at me with his spear uplifted. But I caught it on my shield, and at the same time the stab which I aimed at him glanced off the surface of his. Not a moment did we thus remain together, for, withdrawing, we sprang at each other again. Still, each was so dexterous in the art of handling his shield that we could not hurt each other. Our chests heaved and panted, and our eyes glared, yet not a word did we speak, not a sound did we utter; in silence we fought, for this was a combat to the death.
“As we charged each other for the third time, I hurled my heavy knobstick with all my force at Gungana’s forehead. But so quick was his eye that he just moved his head and the kerrie went whizzing away into the grass behind him. Then once more we closed. Ha, I was wounded! The keen flash of the blade ripped and seared my shoulder like hot iron, but, regardless of risk, I now became impetuous, and struck down wildly over his guard. But this the chief easily parried, uttering a short contemptuous laugh, which angering me, I pressed him so hard that he began to fall back step by step, nor could he get in a fair stroke at me, so close put to it was he to defend himself from mine.
“And now it seemed that his age was beginning to go against him, for, skilful fighter as he was, Gungana was long past the flower of his youth, and in a protracted struggle my strength was bound to tell. Yet even then I know not how the matter might have ended but for what next befell.
“I had pressed him back further and further. He was on higher ground than myself. Yau! sometimes I see him now in my thoughts as he stood that evening, thrown out blackly against the heavens, which were flaming blood red where the sun had just sunk down. I myself had drawn back a few paces to make a feint before rushing in at him again, when suddenly he disappeared feet foremost as he stood; disappeared into the earth, flinging his shield and assegais wildly on high as he clutched at the grass and roots in vain.
“I sprang to the spot warily, for I knew what had befallen. He had sunk into one of those chasms or fissures of which I have spoken as gaping half concealed by the grass. Kneeling at the brink, I peered in, and doing so I thought I could hear the sound of laboured breathing.
“‘Are you alive, my father?’ I called out. ‘Is the hole deep?’
“‘I have not reached the bottom, Untúswa,’ he answered. ‘I am holding myself up where the chasm narrows. There are some bushes growing where we met. Go, cut some, that you may draw me out.’
“But at this I laughed.
“‘I am young, O my father—only an umfane, as you said just now—but I am not completely a fool. The knobsticks of the King’s executioners come down hard upon the skulls of rebellious soldiers, O Gungana, induna of the King,’ I mocked.
“‘I was but angry, Untúswa. Thou art young, and hast fought right well. I will name thee to the King, and will “point at” thee in the next Tyay’igama dance.’
“‘Not so, my father. It is Kalipe who will do that—Kalipe, who will now be in chief command of the King’s troops; Kalipe, who does not try and rob one of the King’s brave soldiers of more than half the praise due to him; Kalipe, who does not rob the soldier of the chance of obtaining his head-ring, who does not lobola for the girl that soldier wants. So now, Gungana, I will promote Kalipe to command the King’s army—I, Untúswa the inceku; I, Untúswa the umfane—and I will do this by making the post vacant.’
“‘Thou jackal whelp!’ he snarled, disdaining further to ask for mercy, realising, too, that it was useless, for he knew he had intended my death, and that I was fully aware he had. ‘Thou jackal whelp! I would that I had not spared thee all this while!’
“‘It has been a day too long, my father,’ I jeered. ‘Now I shall go back, and the King will allow me to tunga, for he has promised it. I will lobola for Nangeza, and soon I shall be an induna, and she shall be my “great wife.” Then, O Gungana, I will not rest until I have all your sons and kindred “smelt out” as abatagati, and “eaten up.” Old Masuka will see to that; so you may soon expect them in the world of shades.’
“Whau, Nkose! It was not well done, thus to mock and taunt a brave man and an induna of the King, being helpless. But I was young then, and I hated Gungana beyond describing. I thought of Nangeza, and how he would have robbed me of her; I thought of his continual designs to compass my ruin and death, and I knew there was not room in this world for him and myself together, and my heart became hard and ferocious as that of a wild beast.
“‘Is it comfortable down there, induna of the King?’ I jeered. ‘Ha! It is not much of a death for a warrior, for a brave commander of the King’s armies, to die like an ant-bear in a dark hole. Oh no, it is not much of a death!’
“‘Yet shalt thou die a worse one, O dog-whelp!’ he answered. ‘A worse one—forget not that!’
“‘Ha-ha!’ I laughed. Then I arose and went a little way, and soon returned with some large stones. Bending over the hole, as soon as my eyes became accustomed to the blackness of its depths, I could just make out the shimmer of Gungana’s head-ring some way down. I took the largest of the stones in both hands, and, poising it over this, I let it fall. There was a crunching sound, and a deep, convulsive groan; then the noise of a heavy body rolling and sliding further and further.
“‘Hlala gahle, Gungana!’ I shouted mockingly. ‘Hlala gahle!’ (‘Rest in peace.’ Zulu form of farewell from a person going away.) Then I got up to go away.
“But as I rose from the spot, I did not feel glad. The sound of the stone as it struck Gungana’s head, that quavering groan which shot upward into outer air, seemed to awaken other feelings within me but those of rejoicing. No, it was not well done, Nkose—yet it was to be my death or his. Still—it was not well done.
“Now the night drew on, and there was a rush of stars out into the blackness of the heavens, and I dared not move because of the holes and pitfalls which lay around. So I crouched down beneath the rock beside which I had first met Gungana, and shivered; for it was cold high up on that mountain-top, and my light war-adornments were of no use against the cold. Moreover, I was very hungry, having eaten nothing since before the attack—that is to say, before daybreak. Then a soft wind sprang up and wailed mournfully in the long grasses, and again I shivered, but not only with cold, for it seemed to me that the whole of that wild mountain-top was haunted—was peopled with the ghosts of those who had been slain that day, crying and whispering around me in the darkness; and ever and again I would hear the crunch of the stone upon Gungana’s shaven skull, till I would fain stop my ears to shut out the sound; but that was of no use, because the sound was in my brain. And it seemed that Gungana’s ghost had come up out of the earth, and was standing over me with hollow and blazing eyes, till at last I could bear it no longer, and rose up, resolved to get away from that spot, at any rate. So I walked on cautiously, and singing softly to myself to drive away these evil shapes of the darkness, and, wearied as I was, I preferred movement, for it warmed me.
“But towards morning a thick mist sprang up, and now I knew no longer what direction I was taking. I snuffed the wind, but it was coming in fitful puffs equally from every direction. Fearing to walk over the cliff, I returned to retrace my steps, and then— Au! that is a moment I can never forget, even now, old as I am. The ground failed beneath me, and I shot downwards feet foremost into the earth. For one sickening moment thus I fell, then stopped with a jerk. The stick of my shield, my hold of which I had not relaxed, had wedged somehow crosswise and arrested my fall; and there I hung suspended in this black chasm, even as Gungana had hung suspended.
“But the straight drop seemed to end here, for I could now feel the rock with my feet sloping obliquely down. However, it was all the same, for I could not climb up; I had fallen too far and the sides were too straight for that. Whau! Gungana had spoken truly when he had predicted for me a worse death than his. For no merciful hand was there to crush in my skull with a stone from above, and so end my sufferings at once. No! I was destined to hours of horror down in my living tomb, holding on by a most frail support, to leave go when exhaustion should overpower me, and sink, buried alive, into the awful heart of the earth. Did ever living man feel as I felt, Nkose, as I clung there, realising that never again was I to behold the light of day? Surely not.
“And then a most unutterably fearsome thing happened. Strange, uncouth whisperings seemed to sound beneath, rising upward from the blackness of the pit. Then something grabbed me by the leg in a firm and bony grip. The stick of the shield gave way, and, with a last awful cry of wild terror and despair, I felt myself being dragged down—down!”