“Come, now, and place it there thyself, Mhlangana. But few of thy impi shall return to Dingane by the time that is done.”
A roar of fierce laughter went up from the bravest and staunchest of my followers. But most were silent, gloomily silent, and the silence was ominous. I even heard murmurs among some as to the uselessness of further resistance, since we and our enemies were of the same blood, and we might as well live to fight in the army of Dingane, who would spare us, as die in that of Umzilikazi, who was already a dead king.
Leaping up, I sprang upon the nearest of these, and with one blow of my broad spear—the King’s Assegai—laid him dead at my feet. Then, rolling my eyes over my dispirited remnant, I cried—
“Who is of the base blood of slaves to talk of yielding? Have The Scorpions no sting left? We will die as we have lived—stinging.”
Our enemies, thinking we were deliberating surrender, remained halted below in silence. As I finished speaking, there rang out once more, soft and clear upon the air, from the heights above, that wild, sweet voice—
“Great is small,
Little is great.
Great shall fall
In the coming Fate.
“Who may fear?
Who to-day will yield?
None who hear
The Song of the Shield!”
“Ou!” cried the warriors, their hands to their mouths. “The shield! The Song of the Shield again!”
“Hear ye what the words say?” I cried. “‘None who hear,’ Now, those hear not the sound, wherefore it is we who need not fear. Behold it, the white shield!” I cried again, in ringing tones, holding it aloft. “We will die beneath it. But we yield not!”
“The white shield! We will die beneath it!” they chorused, springing up, freshly heartened. But I restrained them, for I wished to parley with Mhlangana and his leaders, only, however, to gain time in order that, being rested, we might recommence that unequal fight with renewed vigour. And then, to my unbounded surprise, I, looking up, beheld from where the King sat on the heights above the signal to move downward—the signal to charge.
Au! I hardly knew whether I were dreaming or already dead. To charge? It was madness! Why, that host whose spears awaited us was four times as great as our own, fresh and untired, and thirsting for battle. It would eat us up in a moment. Umzilikazi’s brain must have turned at the impending fall of his power. Such an order was that of a general gone mad. Or had the enemy, unknown to us, surprised and captured the King, substituting others, even as we had done in the matter of Mhlangana’s outpost, who were signalling us to our sure and easy destruction. All these thoughts flashed through my mind like scorching fire: yet, even while this was so, I was already issuing my directions, for with ourselves in those days, Nkose, an order was given to be obeyed, not to be questioned.