The White Shield. Mitford Bertram

a moment, then bending forward spoke low in the Sesutu tongue, which by this time he had taught me; and as I listened my horror became greater and greater, for it seemed as though a wide and black pit of darkness yawned at my feet, and I must either spring over it or into it. Verily, the enemies at work within a man’s kraal are more to be feared than any outside. I must warn the King this very night. Yet, was it too late?

      “Even now I hear steps which seek thee, son of Ntelani,” he ended. “Yet go to meet them. I know not if thou wilt return.”

      Obedient to the old man’s injunction, I rose, and now I, too, heard steps in the silence of the night. With a heavy foreboding of trouble, I crept through the door of the hut, and stood upright.

      “The King desires speech of thee, son of Ntelani,” said a voice, as a man came in sight. I recognised him as one of the izinceku or household attendants, and I thought there was something of malice and mischief in his tone. But I lost no time in gaining the isigodhlo.

      Now, the royal house was of great size, nearly twice that of the largest of any other. I approached, singing in a low voice the King’s praises, to give notice that I was coming; then, disarming, I entered. The Great Great One was alone. A fire burning in the centre lighted up the interior brightly, and in its blaze I could see upon the royal countenance a look I did not like. But still less did I like what immediately followed.

      “Thou dog and whelp of a dog!” hissed the King, as, with the rapidity of lightning, he dropped aside his skin robe and hurled a casting assegai at me. It grazed my head with a vicious “zip!” and buried itself in the side of the house, where it stuck quivering.

      I did not move. Not a word did I speak, yet I felt that death and myself were closely shoulder to shoulder once more.

      “Well, dog! Hast thou no word to say?” went on Umzilikazi, his hand gripping another casting spear.

      “Yes, I have a ‘word,’ Great Great One. My life is ever in the hand of the King. But now I know of no reason why it should be taken,” I answered boldly.

      “No reason? Au! Can a nation serve two Kings, Untúswa, my dog?” he mocked.

      “Now have the dreams of the Elephant been bad – now have the ears of the Great Great One been filled with dark and false things. Moreover, I know well that it was not really in thy mind to slay me, Father; else had yon spear been buried in something very different to the grass wall of the house,” I ended, with my usual boldness, which was so great as sometimes to astonish myself nearly as much as it did those who witnessed it. But it was in the minds of men that I should never now be slain by order of the Great Great One, because I held the King’s Assegai. Yet upon this I did not put overmuch trust.

      “You have a ready tongue, Untúswa, and a ready wit,” said Umzilikazi, no longer wrathfully. “The word is true, and well said, for I could hardly miss a man at that distance, even though there are some who think it is time to find a new King.”

      These last words were spoken low. I had heard enough from old Masuka not to require to ask their meaning. Yet I spoke in surprise and disgust, at the thought that such a thing should be possible.

      “What is your thought on the matter, Untúswa?” said the King softly, eyeing me with his head on one side.

      “Au! that is not a question to ask of me, Great Great One; for was I not on my way hither to point out those who think thus?” I said.

      He started eagerly.

      “Can you do this, Untúswa? Can you point them out?”

      “I can, Great Great One. Shall I silently call together the slayers? The pool beyond Ncwelo’s kraal is not far, and the moon will not take long to sink now. In the morning its water shall be red.”

      “Ha! The pool beyond Ncwelo’s?” muttered the King. “Wait. Call not together the slayers, for I will see these evil-doers with my own eyes, will hear their treachery with my own ears. You and I will go forth together, Untúswa; then on the morrow they shall behold their last sunrise.”

      “How many men shall I bring for safeguard, Father?” I said. “Ten, perhaps, or more?”

      “No men shalt thou bring, Untúswa. Thou and I will go forth together and witness the doings of these wizards, these abatagati, who meet at night.”

      I looked anxious, for this was a serious adventure. The risks were enormous. Of the exact number of conspirators we were in ignorance, but we, being only two, would be sure to find ourselves at a great disadvantage in the event of discovery. Again, if any harm befell the King, should not I be held responsible for it? So I said —

      “May I not go alone and bring back word, Black Elephant?”

      I fancied Umzilikazi looked suspicious.

      “Not so, Untúswa,” he said. “I will satisfy my own eyes, my own ears, and then – Hearken now. Take thy weapons, for it is time to start. Walk in front of me until we are without the gates. If we meet any man, harm him not. But any man who recognises the King, with the first words of royal greeting which pass his lips, slay him instantly and without a word, be he whom he may. I would not be known to have moved in this matter.”

      Umzilikazi took a broad-bladed spear in his hand and a black shield, of smaller size than those used in war. It happened that I was armed in like manner, except that I had a large knobstick as well. Thus equipped, we started upon our adventure.

      Chapter Three.

      The Conspiracy of Ncwelo’s Pool

      We passed out of the isigodhlo by a secret way; known to and used by the King alone. The night was not a dark one, for the stars were shining bright and clear, and a waning moon hung low down in the heavens. As we stepped rapidly forth across the open plain we could make out the dim outline of the great kraal lying silent and slumbrous. Suddenly the figure of a man rose up, right across our path.

      Now we were facing the setting moon, and the man was advancing stealthily in the direction of the kraal, wherefore we met. His face was in darkness. Not so ours, however, and as he recognised the lion countenance of the Great Great One, thus walking abroad by night, he was seized with a mighty fear, and, uttering the Bayéte, he crouched low – hiding his face that we might pass him. And he had looked on the things of this world for the last time, for the words of the Black Elephant were fresh in my ears. This man had recognised the King – had spoken the royal greeting – wherefore, as he crouched, the blade of my broad umkonto drove through between his shoulders, coming out far through his breast. So he died there in the night, uttering no further sound.

      “That was well done, Untúswa,” whispered the King. “I have but one word, and now there is one umtagati the less. Proceed!”

      So we stepped forward again, leaving the slain man lying there; and as we held on our way, I leading, and gripping my spear, all on the alert lest we should meet others prompt to recognise the King, we heard before and around us the howling of hyenas and the yelping of jackals, with now and again the thunder roar of a lion at no very great distance, also a strange and unearthly wail, which could come from no beast – but only, it might be, from the sad ghosts of those slain, who were weeping over their own shattered bones above the place of slaughter.

      “This is a night for abatagati indeed,” growled the King. “Yet there will be more ghosts to weep, Untúswa, after our visit to Ncwelo’s pool.”

      “Gahle, Nkulu ’nkulu,” I whispered. (Gently, Great Great One.) “Yonder is Ncwelo’s kraal. If his dogs hear us, will not their tongues be swift to put the conspirators to flight? Yonder by the shade of the trees must we pass, for they whom we seek will have eyes watching the plain in all directions.”

      “Lead on, Untúswa,” whispered the King.

      Some distance round, under the shade of the trees, had we to travel, for we dared not cross the open, though to do so were far more direct. Au! it was black where the light of the moon and the stars could not pierce, and we had to writhe our way as silently as serpents – indeed more silently, for twice the rustle of some great serpent uncoiling