style="font-size:15px;"> On the morrow, ere yet the sun was up, heralds went running throughout Ekupumuleni, crying aloud that none might venture away from the kraal on pain of death. Others, again ran swiftly to the cattle outposts and outlying kraals, ordering all men to assemble immediately at the royal place. But before this I had already despatched several armed parties, picked warriors of my own regiment, who should form a belt round the kraals at a great distance, so that, being distributed in pickets, none might pass.
Now a great fear fell upon all the people when these ominous preparations became known; and this deepened, as presently it got noised abroad that the King’s dreams had been bad, for it was certain that a great witch-finding impended – greater, indeed, than had been known since Ekupumuleni was erected. An uneasy feeling of restlessness and suspicion had been astir for some little time, and now men whispered to each other with their blankets over their heads, fearing lest their words should fall upon the wrong ears.
Throughout the morning people continued to stream in from the outlying places, men and women, for children were not cited, the former carrying no weapons but sticks only. But all the warriors of my own regiment, to the number of several hundreds, were fully armed. Kalipe, also, the other war-captain, had as many of his own men under arms. The bulk of the people, however, were, as I said, unarmed.
“Au!” cried Nangeza, as I went into my hut to put on some of my war-adornments, “I think, Untúswa, this reminds me not a little of the morning following upon the death of the sleeping sentinel, Sekweni. They say, too, that this morning a man was found outside, not far from the gates, with his heart cleft in twain by the stroke of a broad umkonto– a broad umkonto, Untúswa. Ah! ah!” she jeered, letting her eyes rest with meaning upon my royal weapon, which was seldom out of my grasp. “Art thou not afraid, Untúswa? for the glance of Notalwa seeth far, and his tongue is long.”
“I know yet another tongue which is long, Nangeza,” I answered. “Tell me, thou fool, hast thou ever seen me afraid?”
“Once only, when I told thee thou mightest yet be King. Ah! ah!” she mocked.
I turned as I was departing and looked her full in the face.
“A warning, Nangeza!” I said. “There is a greater than Notalwa, and a long tongue is a worse thing than dangerous. It is wearisome. The King is not fond of those who wag their tongues overmuch, claiming to be in the counsels of his izinduna. Have a care, Nangeza!” And with these words I left her; yet not without seeing that she was alarmed.
Now, by the time the sun was at his highest in the heavens, the great kraal, Ekupumuleni, was packed full of people, and all were in a brooding and breathless state of dread; for the rumours which filled the air were as the early rumblings of a mighty storm brooding over the face of the world. It was known that the witch-doctors were making múti. It was whispered that the King’s sleeping visions had so shaped that vast and unmentionable wizardry had been at work. It was known further that a man of the House of Ncwelo had died in blood, wandering abroad in the night. Things looked dark for the House of Ncwelo. None doubted but that, before the sun went down, some, if not many, should walk in the darkness of the Great Unknown.
All the morning, from every direction, people came flocking. Ncwelo’s kraal to the number of nearly a hundred, Janisa’s clan, who were in charge of some of the cattle outposts, and the followings of many petty chiefs. All these took up positions in the circles within circles ranged around the inside of the great open space. But belting round the whole, hemming in all in a ring of iron – a fence of spear blades – were two half-moons of warriors fully armed, those of my own particular following, and those of Kalipe. And at the high end of the kraal were two companies of slayers, or executioners, bearing thongs and heavy knob-sticks.
Seated among the izinduna awaiting the arrival of the Great Great One was my father Ntelani, the same morose and dissatisfied expression upon his face. But upon that of Tyuyumane, the King’s relation, I thought I could detect a lively expression of fear – also upon that of Senkonya – and I laughed behind my shield, for I was in full dress as a war-captain.
“Ah! ah!” I said to myself. “The Great Great One was right. These abatagati are about to weep blood. No swift and merciful death in the darkness is to be theirs.”
Now the King came forth attended by his shield-bearer, and all the nation assembled there bowed low and thundered out the Bayéte. But the countenance of the Great Great One was gloomy and stern, as his gaze travelled over the enormous bending crowd. He advanced to his usual place, at the head of the open space, and seated himself. And then the izanusi, bedecked in all their hideousness of skulls and entrails and streaming blood and rattling bones, came dancing and howling before the King, and clamouring to be let loose upon the wizards who had bewitched his dreams.
Notalwa was at their head. He was arrayed in a cloak of quagga-skin vividly striped, and was crowned with the lower jaw of a sea-cow cunningly joined with the upper part of a lion’s skull, the whole painted red and surmounted by cranes’ feathers. For my own part, I laughed to myself at the sight of this cowardly boaster, who had never shed blood, save that of some wretched umtagati whom he had smelt out, trying to render his appearance terrific. So, too, did several among us war-captains. But the bulk of the people saw terror in him, and groaned loudly.
This hideous band began to dance before the King, sweeping the ground and air with wands tipped with giraffe tails, as they circled round, and howling —
“Great Great One! Black Buffalo Bull! Elephant who bears the world! give the word, that we may name the abatagati! Thou whose glance is brighter than the sun! give the word that we may consume them with lightning! Hou! Hou! Hou!”
With these and such-like bellowings did the izanusi rave for long; but the King sat and took snuff in silence, as though they were not there at all. At last he said —
“Away from me, ye jackals! ye who are impostors, and no izanusi at all! Still your howlings; for there is a greater than you, who shall find out quickly what ye never shall.”
I had my eyes upon Notalwa’s face, and saw that he feared. The others fell back in awed silence, for there was that in the King’s eyes, in the King’s glance which meant death, and nothing less. And then old Masuka advanced to take their place.
His little bowed, shrivelled figure was undecked by gauds of any kind, but his eyes were keen and bright, and searching as ever. He was attended by three others – young men of our own people, whom the King had appointed to him to be instructed in his magic; for Umzilikazi was too clear-sighted to arouse disaffection among our own people by leaving the chief magic entirely in the hands of strangers. Besides, he wanted to set up a rival band to that of Notalwa.
“Hearken!” said the King. “This morning a man was found who had died in blood in the night – had died in blood under the very shadow of where I sit. Who is he that arrogates to himself the right to slay where that right is of one alone? Who dares take life without my decree? Here has been tagati of the most deadly kind!”
These words were taken up by a trumpet voiced imbonga4, and rolled forth aloud, that all the nation might hear. And the people heard, and the shivering that went through those crouched circles was as the shaking of the forest leaves just before a gale.
“Find him!” said the King, with a sweep of the hand.
The three who were learners of Masuka’s sorcery sprang to their feet, and began to intone the witch-finding chant. Then they ran softly hither and thither, striking the ground with their tail-tipped wands. But the old Mosutu himself remained rigid and motionless where he had first been standing.
The
an imbonga is a professional “praiser,” or herald.
