A great feast was held in honour of the guest.
When Sondaba was led before Umzil’igazi, the latter was struck by the size of the young man’s eyes, so he at once gave him the name of Mehlomakulu (“Big eyes”). This name quite superseded the original patronymic.
Mehlomakulu was of splendid physique, and had all the bearing of a chief and a leader of men. Consequently he at once incurred the jealousy and hatred of Umzil’igazi. The latter was particularly struck by the superiority of his guest’s dancing, as well as the clever way in which he flung his club into the air in the course of the dance and caught it again as it fell. The Matabele chief was heard to say, as he lifted his head to follow the course of the club as it soared—“You are blinding me—you are breaking my neck.” The death of Mehlomakulu was determined on, but he was allowed to return home in the meantime.
Shortly afterwards Mehlomakulu heard from a spy that he was to be killed immediately—that an impi was even then assembling to fall upon him. He thereupon called together his principal men in order to discuss the situation.
A number of Soxokozela’s soldiers had left the kraal to meet the advancing impi. It was now only a question of hours: whatever was to be done must be done quickly.
With tears and many protestations of sorrow, the majority of the Hlubi councillors and headmen decided to leave their chief to his fate. “We are tired of wandering,” they said; “Umzil’igazi is strong and able to protect us. Let Mehlomakulu go forth if he will; it is against him that the hate of Umzil’igazi is hot. We have lived for years gathering roots under the spears of Matiwanè; we will now remain as subjects of the chief of the Matabele.”
While this was going on, an uncle and devoted adherent of Mehlomakulu left the meeting quietly and assembled his followers. With these he surrounded the kraal of Soxokozela, and killed the induna with every member of his family. The killing party then hastened back, flung down their blood-stained spears before the assembly, and told what they had done. The matter was now plain and clear: they knew that the killing of Soxokozela would never be forgiven by Umzil’igazi; that unless they fled the lives of all would be sacrificed.
So the war-cry—a long “g” of the second line of the treble clef, which is wailed out with piercing shrillness—was raised. All the other Matabele within reach were killed, the cattle were quickly collected, and the Hlubis fled to the eastward.
In commemoration of this episode the following song was composed by the tribal bard:—
