“Fare-ye-well, my brothers,” he said. “Perchance I shall visit ye in this new land, when ye come to dwell in it. Depart now in peace to your countrymen, and tell them how good are the hearts of the Amazulu towards you, how good the heart of their King. Fare-ye-well! Hambani-gahle.” (“Go ye in peace.”)
Dingane had risen while he was speaking, and now, with these words, he turned to depart. The Amabuna, too, had risen.
“The white man’s mouth opens very wide;
It shall be filled - it shall be filled.”
So howled the singers; and lo! a mass of warriors swept in between the King and these strangers; we, the izinduna, being outside the circle. With alarm now in their faces, the Amabuna turned quickly towards the gate whereby they had entered. But on that side, too, the circle was complete. Then they knew that their time had come. They were walled in by a dense array of stalwart warriors.
Now began such a struggle as never could have been seen. Our people had sticks, but were otherwise unarmed, for they might not kill within the precincts of the King’s kraal. The Amabuna, too, were unarmed, for it was to this end they had been obliged to leave their guns outside the gate. But many of them were large and powerful men, and all fought with the courage of desperate men. They struck out with their fists, and with their feet; they tore out eyes; some were able to draw knives, and with these they slashed and thrust, making the blood fly in spouts. Whau! That was a struggle—that was a sight. Whau! Hither and thither it swayed—that heaving, striving mass—the shouts and curses of the desperate Amabuna rising hoarse amid the din and scuffle of feet, the gasping and the yells, as those of our warriors who were on the outside of the struggle encouraged those within it by yell and whistle. Whau! How they howled and leapt, how they swung to and fro, how they even rolled on the ground—great heaps of men piled high upon each other, but all kicking, all struggling. But it could not last, for what could three-score and ten men, all unarmed, however valorous, do against a thousand, or, indeed, several thousand? They were borne down and overpowered at last—some were bound with thongs—but all were dragged out from Nkunkundhlovu to the place where those were killed whom the King adjudged to die, and there beaten to death with sticks, as the usual manner was.
“Hau! The head of the snake is now crushed!” cried Tambusa. “Hambani-gahle, abatagati!” (“Go in peace, doer of dark deeds.”)
Then the hissing and the roars of the savage slayers ceased, and the whole mass of our people trooped back from the place of slaughter, howling, in derision, the song they had made for the Amabuna.
“The mouth of the white man is open very wide;
It has been filled - it has been filled.”
Thus they died, those Amabuna—nor did one of them escape; for even their servants, whom they had left outside to hold their horses, were all seized at the same time, and taken to the place of doom. As Tambusa had declared, the head of the snake was crushed at last.
It is said by you white people, Nkose, that Dingane acted a cruel and treacherous part in thus causing the leaders of the Amabuna to be slain. That may be, when seen with a white man’s eyes. But seen with ours the thing is different. These Amabuna had come to take a large portion of the Zulu country from the Zulu people, and, had they done so, how long would it have been before they had taken the whole? They made a show of asking the land from the King, but had Dingane refused to listen to them, would they have gone back the way they came? Is that the manner of the Amabuna, I would ask you, Nkose? Again, if their hearts were good, and free from deceit, why did they not send messengers to Nkunkundhlovu before they entered the land as they did, to obtain the answer of the King and the Zulu people? But instead of doing this, they came over Kwahlamba in great numbers, with their horses and their guns, their waggons and their oxen, their cattle and their women, falling upon the land like a vast swarm of devouring locusts. Whether they obtained leave or not, they had come to stay, and that we did not wish; and further, by thus entering the Zulu country in armed force without the King’s permission! they had deserved death.