The White Shield

Chapter Twenty Three.

The Muster

Never before, Nkose– not even in the days when I was young, and for my swiftness and endurance was chosen by Umzilikazi as his chief runner – did I cover the ground as I did that night, wherefore the night was not very far spent when I reached the kraal where I had left Mgwali and my four followers. At me came a troop of dogs, opened-mouthed and baying, but I hammered them soundly with my knobstick, and, recognising me as no enemy, they slunk away yelping and ashamed. But the people turned out, in some alarm, wondering at the suddenness of this midnight disturbance – wondering still more on beholding me; for it was easy to see that I had been running fast and far.

I went into the hut of the headman, and while I was refreshing myself with a bowl of amasi, I issued my orders.

“Listen, Mgwali. Remember you the two shrubs just below the highest point of Inkume, beneath which we speared the she-leopard when last we hunted here?”

“Perfectly, son of my father.”

“Good. At that point lie five Amazulu – warriors of Dingane. These are the eyes of a mighty impi which is advancing against us from the south. But the eyes of Umzilikazi must take the place of the eyes of Dingane.”

“Ou! I am ready, induna of the King!” cried my brother, springing to his feet, and gripping his shield and weapons.

“Gahle!” I said putting out a restraining hand. “Take the four who accompanied us hither, and, for security’s sake, take other four or five, so shall you be two to one.”

Then, Malula, the headman of the kraal, called up two of his sons and three other young men, and ordered them to proceed with Mgwali.

“Now,” I said, “the way is long, but the night is still young, and so are ye. Hearken, son of my father, and all of you. Before break of day must this be done. Not one of those warriors of Dingane must leave his post. If but one escapes, why, then shall ye all writhe upon a seat of pain for many days. When you have taken their places, and they sleep forever, send down one of your number to pass along the word to me and to the Great Great One; then shall ye have further orders when to signal, and how. Mgwali is chief of this party. Now go.”

They started, those youths, and I knew that if a single one of Mhlangana’s outlook escaped, it would only be because Mgwali and his nine followers were all dead.

Now, I started too, being refreshed, and as I went straight as a line for Kwa’zingwenya, I posted runners at different points of the way, for such, Nkose, is our system when we desire to pass the word quickly; and, indeed, I think the wonderful speaking wires of you white people can hardly convey tidings with greater swiftness. Further, I despatched messengers to every kraal on that side of the country, that every man should proceed swiftly, but secretly, to Shushuya, the military kraal of the “Scorpions” regiment, but for the rest none were to flee, and the women and cattle were to go about as usual, and that, did any fail to do this, or seek to flee in panic, assuredly that kraal should be eaten up and its people given over to the assegai. This, in case Mhlangana had other pickets out overlooking our country, for, did the royal general learn that we were not unprepared, it might bring about an entire alteration in his plans, and, of course, in mine. All these orders I gave without halting, they who received them running by my side as I ran. Nor did I fear failure to obey them; for the women, however they might dread the chance of the spears of Mhlangana, would still more fear the certainty of those of Umzilikazi. And the word of a war-captain of my standing at such a time was as the word of the King himself.

Now, as I ran, my mind was busy with the plan I had formed, which was simple. The impi from Zululand should be signalled to advance by Mgwali and our people, who had slain and taken the place of its own outpost. Once in the hollow formed by the spurs of the mountain closing down upon the Place of the Three Rifts, it should be fallen upon by our entire force – save a portion placed in reserve at the narrowest point in the pass; and, being thus taken completely by surprise, I had little doubt but that a panic would ensue which should place it entirely at our mercy. Whau! In that event not many warriors would return to Dingane to tell how deadly was the goring of the horns of the Black Bull whose kraal lay in the north. Nor had I much fear lest the invader’s plan should be altered; for the counsels of Silwane and the others would weigh with Mhlangana; and the bent of those counsels I had fully gathered what time I was receiving royal homage when the moon grew black.

Never had I known till then, Nkose, how great was the secret dread which our King had entertained for the might of Dingane. For when I reached Kwa’zingwenya, and unfolded to him my discovery – the peril that threatened us, and the steps I had taken to meet it – his whole mien grew dark as the moon had done over the Place of the Three Rifts, as troubled as the stirring of shrill winds among the scud of the storm wrack.

“Know you, Untúswa, that we have little more than half our strength to fall back upon?” he said. “Kalipe’s force is away, and of its return there is no sign.”

“Let swift runners be sent to meet it, Great Great One. It may yet arrive in time. Failing that, the pass of the Inkume shall be to the impi of Dingane and Mhlangana what the pass of Kwahlamba was to that of Tshaka.”

“Great talk!” growled the King. “But I think, Untúswa, thou art not much greater than a fool; for instead of yet further delaying our enemies, while speaking with the mouth of Mhlangana, and thus allowing time for Kalipe’s return, thou didst even hurry on the hour of the battle.”

“Had I done otherwise suspicion would have been aroused, and the impi would have been thrown forward at once. Then what time should we have had to muster our forces, O Black Elephant? Now, instead of the hunting dogs of Dingane and Mhlangana surprising us, it is we who shall surprise them, father of a new nation.”

“Ha! that sounds not so ill,” muttered Umzilikazi.

“There is yet more, Serpent of Might,” I said. “Had suspicion been aroused, that moment I were assuredly dead. Who then would have carried warning of the approach of those who come against us?”

“That is true, son of Ntelani. And so they cried the ‘Bayéte’? And for once thou wert a king.”

Now I liked not Umzilikazi’s tone, for it was bitter and jeering – suspicious, too. But his next words scattered all apprehensions on my own account.

“This sorceress – she shall be slain.” He was muttering more to himself than to me. “She it is who has brought her own people upon us.”

“The will of the Great Great One stands,” I said. “Yet let the King pause; for weighty has been the service she has rendered us.”

Umzilikazi looked at me, and his face was clouded with suspicion.

“So, Untúswa? I begin to see,” he said. “The men of Mhlangana are coming to set up a new King here – and a new Queen! Ah, ah, Untúswa, she is fair – the strange sorceress!” he jeered.

“Now have the dreams of the King been bad – even as at the time of Ncwelo’s conspiracy,” I replied, bold as ever. “If you doubt your servant, Father, slay him now, or after we have rolled back the men of Mhlangana.”

The King looked gloomily at me, then he said —

“The sorceress – let her be sent for.”

I gave the order to those without, and soon the door of the hut was darkened and Lalusini entered.

“See, thou witch,” said the King, pointing at her with his spear, “I am minded to slay thee, for now I know whose wizardry has brought the enemy to our gates what time the half of our fighting force is away. Thus, then, was thy flight turned to account after the Bakoni were eaten up.”

But there was no trace of fear in Lalusini’s eyes as she gazed upon the terrible threatening countenance which to any of us would have seemed to bring death very near – only a slight look of wonder.

“Is it for this I have saved the life of a King – the life of a nation?” she said, her clear sweet tones firm and without a tremor: “I would ask the Great Great One – what started Untúswa from his sleep? A voice of warning? Would the warriors of Dingane have spared him, think you, had they come upon him slumbering? How did they mistake him for Mhlangana, and thus fill his ears with their plans? Was it not because of the shield – the royal shield – the white shield? And how did he escape from them to carry hither the word of warning? The blackness of the moon, was it not? And the shield? Who warned him not to part from it day or night until after the blackness of the moon? Au! In a word, who predicted all these things, in warning? and have they not come to pass? Now, son of Matyobane, say. Am I to die?”

She stood, drawn proudly up, and her tone had been that of rebuke. And such is a terrible one to adopt towards him whose word summons the slayers.

“Hearken, my sister,” said Umzilikazi, now speaking softly. “Thy words are not without truth and reason, yet I trust thee not over-much, being of the blood of those who come against us. Thou art great at making múti. Now, in the battle before us, the odds against us are heavy. If thy múti wins us this battle, then thou shalt dwell in great honour and obtain any wish thou shalt express. If we lose it, thou shalt die, and die hard, as the worst sort of witches die.”

“And is this the word of the King?” said Lalusini, a smile gleaming in her great lustrous eyes.

“Such is my word, sister, and my word never fails; else had Untúswa not been seated here this day.”

“I hear the King, and am glad,” she answered. “My word, too, never fails – I, a daughter of the House of Senzangakona. You shall win in this battle, son of Matyobane, shall win it through my múti. Is it permitted that I go now and prepare the same?”

“Go, and may it be well for thee and for us,” said Umzilikazi.

When she had gone forth the King sent for old Masuka.

“The might of Dingane is at our gates, my father,” he said. “Shall the victory be ours?”

“Ou! Who may say for certain, and time has not been given me to look into the future, lord? Yet the white shield – the white shield. Twice already hath its efficacy been great. It has guarded the life of a King, also that of a nation.”

“The white shield!” repeated Umzilikazi, in vexation. “Are ye all in league, vultures of izanusi? When I ask for an omen, for a glance into the future, ye all croak about a white shield. Go now, old man, and make thy múti, for the army must be doctored before set of sun.”

Masuka saluted and crept out. Then being restless, the King rose and followed. In the gate of the isigodhlo stood the white priest, desiring speech with the King.

“Ha! Yet another magic-maker,” growled Umzilikazi. “Say now, talker with the spirits of the air, will thy sacrifices aid us against the might of Dingane, for they who come against us number more fighters than ourselves, Kalipe being still absent?”

“I had heard that, O King,” said the white man. “To no magic do I pretend, yet it may be that the Great One whom I serve will remember in its hour of need the nation which has received with kindness the humblest of His servants.”

“Ha! I think they who come against us would not so have received thee, my father,” replied Umzilikazi, somewhat impatiently. “Yet practice, I pray thee, thy mystic rites on our behalf, for with this foe at our gates we need all the aids we can get – whether of sorcery or not.”

“That I will gladly do, O King,” replied the white priest. And as he saluted and turned away, I noticed that he looked ill and tired – perhaps through over-much journeying. But soon we saw certain of the slaves entering the dwelling which he kept for his sacred rites, and heard the tinkle of the little bell, and now and again the soft murmur of the white sorcerer’s voice.

“Now, Untúswa, I think we have enough múti of one kind or another,” said the King. “Go, therefore, and muster the fighters who wait without.”

It must not be supposed all this time, Nkose, that nothing was being done. I had sent forth, ordering every regiment to repair immediately to headquarters, and every man who had been enrolled, or who was capable of bearing arms, to assemble without a moment’s waste of time. Further, I had ordered the establishment of chains of scouts and runners to watch and swiftly report any movement on the part of the foe, whom as yet none had seen excepting myself. From all sides now, people were pouring – men mostly – armed men in groups and bands streaming over the plain, all converging on the great kraal, and among these, a compact cloud, huge and dark, marched the splendid regiment of The Scorpions, nearly two thousand strong, young men mostly, and strangers to fear, of which I was the chief commander. On they came, singing the war-song of Umzilikazi, and, filing into Kwa’zingwenya, took up a position in a huge half-circle within the great central space. These, occupying as they did a military kraal of their own, were already fully armed, but others from without were not, and as the latter swarmed in a rush was made upon the places where the shields were kept. But a strong guard had been placed over this, and soon the distribution was finished, and the shield-houses were nearly emptied. Then all were doctored for war and proceeded to the great plain outside to dance the war-dance.

The while, Nkose, I had my hands very full, for in the absence of Kalipe I was the general in command, and, indeed, so great was my pride in that position that I would rather risk disaster and defeat than be once more put down to second again. But almost every moment my runners were coming and going, yet not noisily and with fuss, but as though seen by hardly any among us. So far everything had gone well. Mgwali and his scouts had surprised and slain Mhlangana’s outposts, so that none had escaped, and had dragged the bodies far down the mountain on our side, lest the vultures gathering in clouds should be visible to the enemy and convey a warning. Of our men two had been killed and several wounded, nor did this astonish me. No further move had been made by the foe, who still lurked behind the forest belts of the flat country beyond Inkume, little dreaming of the reception we were preparing for him.

Now, as I looked round upon the muster, I felt pride and joy in the host I was to lead forth. The war spirit gleamed in every eye, and in the restless twitching of the limbs of the warriors was a fiery impatience to behold the enemy. None was a stranger to it. Even Ngubazana the Gaza, coming out from helping the white isanusi to perform his rites, looked wistfully at the mustered legions, and upon his face came a warrior light there was no mistaking.

“How now, son of a kindred race?” I said, for I was passing him at the time. “I think this is not the first day thou hast seen warriors mustered for battle.”

“That is so, induna of the regiment of Scorpions,” he answered, with a longing glance at my own especial fighting rank.

“I think, on such a day, thy place is among these, rather than acting as induna to a king of peace, Ngubazana,” I said, somewhat mockingly.

“Whau! You are my father, Untúswa!” cried the Gaza, in a quick, eager, suppressed voice, as though fearful of being overheard by some one. “Give me a shield – give me a broad spear, that I may join them.”

A great shout of laughter, of delight, broke from the warriors; and, at a sign from me, some ran to the shield-house, so that in a moment Ngubazana was fully armed.

“Thy follower is going to help us against Dingane, father,” I cried aloud to the white isanusi, who had just appeared. “Whau! This is no time for thoughts of peace, but for deeds of war!”

“Yeh-bo! Yeh-bo!” chorused the regiment.

“Well, let him go,” said the white priest, quite tranquilly, noting his follower’s hesitation. “Go, now, Ngubazana, and fight like a brave soldier for the King who has sheltered and favoured us. Yet, shed no more blood than is necessary, and slay none when already defenceless. Show mercy, and spare. So, take my blessing with thee.”

Now the first words filled all with great delight, but for the last, au! We, who when we “see red” spare nothing that has life, how should such words commend themselves to us? But we remembered that this was a man whose business was peace.