The White Hecatomb, and Other Stories

by W. C. Scully

“When was I born, did you say? That I can hardly tell you. I think that none but myself are now living who saw that day. My father’s clan dwelt far from here, beyond the Tugela river. He was just a common man of the Amangwanè tribe, and he stood close, until the day of his death, to the great fighting chief Matiwanè. In the days of my childhood I saw nothing but fighting and wandering about. I do not remember when we first began to wander, but I think my mother was wandering when she bore me. Tshaka had fallen upon us, the Amangwanè, and we, in turn, fell upon the Amahlubi, whom we followed, fighting, across the Quathlamba Mountains into a land of wide plains, high mountains, and great rivers.

“When still a little girl I have often sat on a hill with the women and the other children, and looked down upon the fighting. When the villages of the Bathlokua were burnt the sun and the whole sky were hidden by smoke.

“Matiwanè was one who loved blood. He drank the gall of every chief that was slain, to make him fierce. When he fled back to the Zulu country, Dingaan filled his mouth with the liver of an ox, and told the captive Hlubis to beat him with sticks on the belly until he died. But that was long afterwards,—after much blood had flowed. Blood, blood;—the light died in my eyes many years ago, yet whenever I think of the days when I was a child, I seem to see a great redness glowing through the darkness.

“When Tshaka fell upon us for the third time, he drove us back among the steep mountains of the Lesuto, and here we said we would henceforth dwell. After Tshakas ‘impi’ had departed, Matiwanè sent back parties to gather some millet from the ruined fields, for our crops were nearly ripe when we were driven forth. Then our men took to hunting, and we lived on what they killed; but there was much sickness among us, because there was no grain for the children to eat, the little grain we had being kept for seed. When the children cried with hunger they were told to wait until the millet grew, for that then their hunger would be satisfied.

“The spring rains fell early, and on every mountain-ledge we broke the ground and planted the millet. It grew as millet has never grown before or since, in spite of the steepness of the ground, and we used to go and sit among the high thick stalks, and fondle them, and think that in a few weeks more we should be feasting upon the food we loved so much and had been without for such a long time.

“Just as the grain commenced forming, small flights of locusts began to arrive from the westward. We stood around the millet patches with boughs of trees, and drove away the locusts that attempted to alight. One day we saw a brown cloud arising in the west, and this grew and spread over the mountain-tops until it covered the whole land. Then the cloud descended upon our fields, and we saw that it was a great flight of locusts.

“Men, women, and children then fought as they had never fought in the worst days of battle against the spears of Tshaka, but it was all in vain. Next day the millet-fields were bare, and the men wailed like women.

“Then the men sharpened their spears once more, and we set our faces to the southward. We covered the face of the land like the locusts we were fleeing from, and the tribes fled before us like game before a troop of wild dogs. When we crossed the great river (the Orange) we turned to the eastward, and over-ran the country of the Abatembu, who never stood to fight us on a single occasion. Then we turned to the northward, and wandered on, secure in our great numbers, and driving herds of spoil. At length we crossed the Umtata river and took possession of the mountain range between that and the Inxu river. Here, we said, we will make a home, and now we will cease from wandering about like wild animals. We had spoiled the Abatembu of grain, so we broke the ground and again sowed millet, of which we gathered a good harvest. We built huts, and we thought that at length we should have rest. I was then a young girl, hardly old enough to marry.

“One day, in the winter-time, we saw great armies coming up against us from several directions, but we were not afraid, for Matiwanè had many spears, and his men feared not to die in war. One small body of men clad in bright red garments came towards us, moving together as one man. When they came close, they stretched themselves out like a snake, and then they seemed to place tubes like black reeds to their mouths, through which they blew white smoke. Then our men began to fall dead, and our hearts were turned to water at this dreadful thing, the like of which we had never before seen. With the smoke came a fearful noise like thunder, and we thought that the children of the sky had come down in wrath to destroy us. Soon we heard a louder thunder, and then balls of iron fell out of the sky on us, and smashed our men into bloody heaps where they stood thickest. The Abatembu and the Amagcalèka now moved up from behind the men in red, and fell upon us with the spear.

“Then took place a great slaughter, and those of us who escaped from it were few. Women and children were sought in their hiding-places and killed with the spear, whilst the old and sick were burned quick in the huts. My father was slain early in the day, and my mother and I fled with some others back towards the Quathlamba Mountains, meaning to reach, if possible, the country of the Lesuto, and place ourselves under Moshesh, the chief of the Basuto.