The King's Assegai. Mitford Bertram

was here, and we had hemmed it in. In a moment they were all broken up into furious struggling groups—and how they fought, how we fought! It was silence then. No man spoke—no man shouted. You could hear only the gasp of laboured breathing, the stamp of striving feet, the jarring crash of shields and weapons, the dull thump of a falling body, the crackling roar of the blazing kraal, whence clouds of smoke were floating across our faces and blinding our eyes so that we could hardly see each other, and struck and stabbed wildly at random, to the peril of friend as well as of foe. But it could not last—we were too many, too invincible. We stood stupidly staring at each other, swaying, tottering with exhaustion and excitement, for the fray had been fierce. Before, around us, lay heaps of weltering corpses, hacked and battered, the blood welling from scores of spear-stabs. These we ripped according to our custom; those of the enemy, that is; for of our own warriors there were also heaps of slain; indeed, the Basutu had fought like cornered lions. No prayer for mercy was upon their lips. Brave, fierce, defiant to the last, they had fallen.

      “And now above the crackling roar of the flames and the wild, fierce, triumphant shout which swelled to the heavens from our victorious throats came the doleful shrieking of women, who saw their little ones speared or flung into the flames, who themselves lay beneath the sharp kiss of the spear-blade; for we Zulus, when we see red, spare no living thing. And we saw red that day—ah, yes, we saw red. Ha! By the time a man could have counted fifty from the moment the fighting had ceased not one who had inhabited that kraal, even to the last dog, was left alive.

      “ ‘Hau!’ cried Gungana, the second induna in command of our impi, as he stood gazing upon a heap of the slaughtered women, among whom were several who were young and pleasant to look upon. ‘Hau! I think we have made too much of a mouthful of the King’s enemies. Now, some of these would have been better alive than dead, for of girls among us we have none too many. It is a pity we did not save some.’

      “ ‘Perhaps so,’ said I. ‘But, deferring to your head-ring, O Gungana, I seem to have heard the King say he liked not these intermarriages, and the mingling of the blood of the Amazulu, “the People of the Heavens,” with that of inferior races.’

      “I fancied that Gungana looked at me somewhat askance, and a queer smile played about his bearded lips. He was that same induna who had come over to us with Tshaka’s force, and him our King had promoted to great honour.

      “ ‘Whau, Untúswa! Thou art but a boy, and claimest to know over-much of the King’s mind,’ he said.

      “ ‘In fear I do so, my father,’ I replied deferentially. ‘I ask nothing but such a fight as we have had to-day. And have I not fought?’ showing my hacked and charred shield and my body streaming with blood from several ugly gashes. ‘Did I not put in the fire that smoked these wolves out of their den? And now, O my father, will you not whisper it in the ear of the King that the son of Ntelani, although but a boy, can fight, can plan?’

      “ ‘It may be that I will do so, Untúswa,’ he answered.

      “But that strange look was still upon his face as he turned away, and I liked it not. For by this time my continual presence about the King was looked upon with distrust by many of the indunas. Even my father was jealous of me, and this being so, wherefore should Gungana look upon me with more favourable eyes? But it was in his power to speak the word which should obtain for me my head-ring, or not to speak it, wherefore I treated him almost as deferentially as I would the King himself. Moreover, I flattered him.

      “ ‘Au!’ I cried, ‘am I not but a thoughtless boy? Who am I that I should boast of my own deeds in the presence of an induna of the King, before the brain which thought for the impi, before the eyes which were the sight of the impi? Let it be but whispered in the King’s ear that the son of Ntelani was near the right hand of Gungana throughout the battle. That will be distinction enough.’

      “This told. The induna turned half round to listen, and a different expression came into his face. This time he looked pleased.

      “ ‘Rest easy, son of Ntelani,’ he said. ‘The man whom I sent to set fire to the kraal will not be forgotten.’

      “We Zulus are not like you white people, Nkose, whose faces are to be read like a white man reads a book, else had I been quite undone that day. For the idea of setting the kraal on fire had been entirely my own—planned by me, carried out by me alone; that, too, only in time to save us from defeat, which would have meant ruin to Gungana, if not death. And now he coolly gave me to understand that all the credit of it, the generalship of it, was to belong to him. This I had thought was the feat which should win me honour among the people, and my head-ring at the approving word of the King, and now it was all to go to the credit of my commander. I could hardly keep my face from speaking the wrath and disgust I felt—yet I did so, and called out that Gungana was my father, and as his child I had been privileged to do his bidding. For although it flashed upon me that if ever a day of reckoning should come Gungana would fare badly at my hands, yet now I wanted his good word; wherefore I flattered him.

      “Just then my eye was attracted by a movement among a heap of bodies lying piled up near me. I thought I heard a smothered groan. Then all the wolf-nature of my warrior blood sprang up within me. Here, then, was something more to slay. Good! With kindling eyes I gripped anew my broad assegai and leaped to the group of bodies. Yes; it was a groan. A pair of legs was protruding from the pile and feebly moving. Seizing them by the ankles, I tugged with all my might.

      “ ‘Come forth,’ I growled, for I was holding my assegai in my mouth to leave both hands free. ‘Come forth, and taste blade over again. Ha! killing is the only thing good to live for, after all. Come forth!’

      “Jerking out these words, I threw the corpses aside as one might throw faggots from a stack of firewood. Then another tug, and I found I was holding by the legs the body of an old man, wrinkled and white-bearded. Beyond a gash or two in the chest, he seemed unwounded, but his head was covered with blood. Clearly, a blow had felled him, but how was he still alive, how had he escaped being ripped, as is our custom?

      “ ‘Ha! I will make that good,’ I muttered savagely, seizing my assegai with that intent.

      “But something in the old man’s aspect arrested my arm.

      “He was, as I have said, very wrinkled and white-bearded. But his eyes—ah, such eyes! bright, keen, glittering—they were the eyes of a youth who, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow-warriors, is sweeping down upon his first enemy, instead of the filmy orbs of an old man who is tired of looking on this world. They seemed to burn, to pierce through me, to wither up all the strength of my right arm. I could not strike the spear down into his vitals; I could not remove my gaze from his. It was terrible! If his eyes burned like this while he was weak and wounded, and almost lifeless, what would they be like in the full vigour of health? And then I saw that his neck and body were hung with trappings and charms such as the izanusi (Witch-doctors) use.

      “ ‘Strike and slay me, if thou wilt, son of the King’s induna,’ he said, and his eyes seemed to glitter more fiercely, like those of a snake. ‘But if so, thou shalt never attain thy dearest desire.’

      “ ‘Son of the King’s induna,’ he had said. This was tagati (Wizardry) indeed. How did he know my estate?

      “ ‘And what desire I the most at this moment?’ said I.

      “ ‘The head-ring,’ he whispered.

      “ ‘All young warriors desire that,’ I answered with a laugh. ‘Tell me, O my father, if thy múti is strong enough, what desire I further, together with the isicoco?’

      “ ‘The dark-handled assegai of the King,’ he answered, without a moment’s pause.

      “ ‘Whau!’ I cried, bringing my hand to my mouth, and starting back in staring, open-mouthed amazement. This was more than marvellous. The promise which Umzilikazi had made to me, half laughingly, when we two were alone together, was known to this old sorcerer of an alien race, who must