The King's Assegai: A Matabili Story

Mitford Bertram

The King's Assegai: A Matabili Story

Prologue

“You were astonished when I refused your piece of gold, Nkose. But were you to offer me your waggon loaded up with just such shining gold pieces, even that would not coax this broad spear out of my possession.”

(Nkose: literally “chief” – a title of civility which the innate courtesy of the Zulu moves him to bestow upon the stranger. In this connection it corresponds to “sir.”)

“I should be sorry to make the offer, Untúswa, for I fear that, whatever its merit, I should be the owner of a weapon for which I had paid too long a price.”

But the old Zulu only shook his head, contemptuously, it seemed, and the faint, satirical smile which turned down the corners of his mouth seemed to say, “This poor fool! Does he know what he is talking about?”

“Let me look at it again, Untúswa,” I said, reaching out for the weapon for which a few minutes before I had ended by offering a golden sovereign – having begun with a few worthless items of truck, such as beads, pocket-knives, etc. It was a splendid assegai of the short – handled, close-quarter type. The blade, double-edged, keen and shining, was three fingers broad and at least twenty inches in length, and was secured in its socket by raw-hide bindings, firm as iron, and most neatly and tastefully plaited. The haft, expanding at the butt into a truncated knob, was of a curious dark wood, something like ebony, almost black, and highly polished.

“Au! You are a good man, Nkose. You will not do anything to it?” was the somewhat reluctant reply, as the weapon was handed over.

“Bewitch it, I suppose you mean, Untúswa? Have no fear. There is no tagati about me – not a grain.”

Handling this splendid specimen of an assegai, poising it, noting its perfect and graceful make, its strength and temper, I was inclined to quadruple my original offer, but that I felt confident that the old man was in dead earnest as to his statement that untold gold would not induce him to part with this weapon. But here, I thought, is the direct antithesis of the Needy Knife-Grinder. This man has a story to tell, if only he can be induced to tell it.

The hour was propitious – the still, deliciously lazy time of the mid-day outspan. From our position on the Entonjaneni heights we commanded a fair expanse of the crag-crowned hills and rolling plains of Central Zululand. Beneath lay the wide bush-clad valley of the White Umfolosi – the river winding in a snaky band. Beyond, the Mahlabatini Plain – now silent and deserted – and there six great wizard-circles in the grass alone showed where had stood, a year or so back, just that number of huge kraals, the principal of which was Ulundi.

The unwilling dealer in prize assegais was a tall, thin old man, whose age it would have been impossible to guess were it not that by his own showing he must have been at least as old as the century – which would have given him fourscore. Though lean and shrunken, he showed evidences of the former possession of great muscular power, and even now was as straight as a telegraph-pole, and carried his ringed head slightly thrown back, as became a man who was somebody. He had come to the waggon, in company with other Zulus, to exchange civilities according to custom, but had lingered on after the departure of the rest. Then I fed him, and gave him much snuff, and strove to tempt him to sell the weapon which had taken my fancy.

“It is a fine spear,” I said, returning it to its owner; “but there are many such in Zululand, and of gold pieces there are not many. Why do you value it so?”

“Au! Value it?” Then, with a glance at my native boys who were snoring under the waggon, he said, in a lowered voice, and stretching forth his hand in emphasis:

“It was the spear of the King.”

“Of the King? Of Cetywayo?”

“Qa-bo! Not so!” he answered with a shake of the head. Then, after a few moments spent in snuff-taking and silence, he went on:

“Listen, Nkose; I have fought for another king than him whom you English have taken from us, and for whom our hearts are crying. Though in my old age I fought for Cetywayo as an ordinary warrior, yet I was, while yet young, a great induna at the right hand of another king, and the second in command of his armies. For my youth, and, indeed, most of my life, was passed among a kindred people who dwell to the north. I am from the Amandebili.”

(Amandebili: commonly known as Matabili.)

Chapter One.

Tshaka’s Impi

Now I saw I was going to get at a wonderful story. The incidents and recollections which would cluster round that beautifully-made dark-handled spear could not fail to be copious as well as passing strange. Then, in his pleasant and flowing Zulu voice —the voice par excellence for narrative purposes – the old man began:

“I am Untúswa, the son of Ntelani, a Zulu of the tribe of Umtetwa. I was a boy in the days when Tshaka, the great King, ruled this land, and trampled his enemies flatter than the elephant tramples the grass-blades. But I was full of the fighting blood which has made our people what they are – what they wore, rather” – he parenthesised sadly, recollecting that we were looking down upon the relics of fallen greatness, as represented by the silent desolation of the razed capital – “ah, yes! But instead of fighting for Tshaka I fought under a very different sort of king.

(Tshaka: The name of the celebrated Zulu King should, in strict accuracy, be written Tyaka. The above spelling, however, has been adopted throughout this narrative in consideration for the British ear. To spell the name with a C is quite erroneous.)

“When there are two bulls of nearly equal size in one kraal, they will not look long at each other before locking their horns. There were two such bulls in those days in the land of Zulu, and they were Tshaka, the son of Senzangakona, who was the King, and Umzilikazi, the son of Matyobane. I was but a boy, I repeat, in those days, but they tell me that Umzilikazi loved not the house of Senzangakona. But he was wiser than the serpent if braver than the bull-buffalo in full charge. He thought it better to be a live king than a dead induna.

(Umzilikazi: More commonly, but quite erroneously, known as Mosilekatse.)

“It befell that he dropped out of favour with the great King; for being, though young, one of the first fighting chiefs among the Amazulu, he soon gathered to himself an immense following. To him, too, came my father, Ntelani, and many others who loved not the House which had deposed the tribe of Umtetwa, the royal House of Dingiswayo, which was our own. Then Tshaka grew jealous, as he ever did when he saw one of his chiefs increase in power and influence. He sent Umzilikazi upon war expeditions, in the hope of procuring his death, and when this failed, and our chief returned covered with greater glory than ever, the King tried another plan. He declared we had hidden the best of the spoil, had sent the best of the cattle and captives away into the mountains, and an impi was ordered out, to take us unawares and destroy us.

“But not thus were we to be taken. Such a move had been expected, and for some time previously Umzilikazi had been sending men to explore the passes of the mountains – the great Kwahlamba range – which shut us in behind as with great rocky walls; hither, too, our cattle and women were sent. The while our chief had been talking to the heads of the different clans which made up his following, and his talking had fallen upon ready ears. There were fair lands away beyond the mountains – lands of waving grass and flowing streams and countless herds of game, lands where dwelt tribes whose only destiny was to serve the all-powerful Amazulu. They had only to cross the mountains and conquer those lands.

“The old men took snuff and listened, and saw that the words were wise. To remain was certain death; to fly would mean possible safety and wealth. The young men listened and gripped their weapons. The prospect of conquering out a new kingdom, of the enemies we should meet and slay – this it was that fired our blood. Besides, we would have gone through flame at the bidding of our chief, who had led us so often to victory. Moreover, it was darkly whispered that the iron yoke of Tshaka, in the matter of earlier marriage being permitted, and such-like, would be relaxed. So day by day, in batches, our women and cattle were moved higher and higher up the mountain-passes, preparing for flight; and we lay under arms, and ready to give our destroyers a great deal of trouble when they should arrive. And in order that we should be found thoroughly prepared, some of us younger men, fleet of foot and strong of vision, were posted upon the lower heights of the Kwahlamba, whence we could see for an enormous distance. At last the day came.

“The sun had just risen, and was flooding the land with gold. It was a clear morning, and entirely free from mist; and, seated there on my lofty watch – pinnacle, I beheld a movement far away towards the rising sun. I sprang to my feet and gazed eagerly forth. A curtain of cloud was rising over the land-spreading higher and higher, rolling nearer and nearer with great rapidity. Cloud? No. It was a curtain of dust.

“So immense was the space spread out beneath me that it seemed as though I could see over the whole world. On swept this great dust-cloud, still at an enormous distance, but nearing rapidly every moment. And then I knew what caused it. That dust-cloud was stirred up by countless herds of game fleeing in panic and terror. Then I called to my brother, who sprang upon the rock beside me.

“‘Look, Sekweni! Yonder the game is in full flight. Yonder are the Zulu spears. The King’s impi is coming!’

“We stood for a little while longer, watching the dust-cloud till we could see among it rolling, tumbling forms.

“‘Go now, Sekweni, and cry aloud the news from post to post,’ I said. ‘I go to warn Umzilikazi, our father.’

“And as I sprang down the mountain-side, leaping from stone to stone, from crag to crag, with the surefootedness and fleetness of a buck, long before I reached the level I could see the flash and glitter of sparks of flame through the towering dust-cloud, extending in a great line over the plain. It was the glitter of innumerable spears. The host advancing behind those flying game herds – advancing to destroy us – was as the whole of Tshaka’s army.

“How I ran! There was none who could run against me in those days, Nkose. With head down, and panting for breath, yet far from being exhausted, I rushed into the presence of Umzilikazi.

“‘Greeting, father!’ I cried. ‘They are at hand!’

“‘Ha!’ And the battle-light we who had followed him knew so well came into the face of our chief.

“‘How many regiments do they number, son of Ntelani?’ he said, taking snuff.

“‘I know not, O my father. But it seems to me that half (this would mean about 20,000 men) of the army of the Great King is advancing upon us.’

“‘And we number but half that. Well, Untúswa, get you back to your watching-place with six others being young and swiftfooted, and send them as messengers as there shall be aught to report. Go now!’

“I saluted the chief and bounded away like a buck. But when I had regained the mountain height with the youths whom I had chosen as runners, lo! the army of Tshaka spread out black on all hands, covering the ground as it were a swarm of young locusts – sweeping on now in a huge half-circle as it were of the black waves of the sea.

“But our leader had mustered his fighting strength, and was rapidly moving up to the place he had fixed upon as his battle-ground. This was to be the entrance of the pass by which our flight should continue, for there, the lay of the ground being high and steep, a few determined fighters could repel the attacks of many; and besides this, another species of defence had been organised by the strategy and forethought of our chief.

“I saw the huge impi surround and burst upon our principal kraals, and I laughed aloud, for in them none remained save the very old. These were put to the assegai in a moment, and then our intending destroyers held on their way to where our warriors awaited them, on the steep sides of the pass I have described, concealed by thick bush. But they could not believe that we meant fighting. All they had to do was to overtake us and slaughter us as we fled. How mistaken they were – ah, yes, how mistaken!

“For as the foremost of their host streamed carelessly forward, not waiting for its supports, our chief gave the word, and immediately from the bush which flanked the way on either side there poured two large bodies of our younger and most fiery warriors, to the number of about two thousand. The advance guard of the King’s impi, taken thus by surprise and also in flank, was thrown into utter confusion. But ah! while it lasted, it was as though two seas had met – the shock and the surging, the crash of shields and the splintering of spears, the roars and the hissing of the war-whistles! Ha! they fought – ah, yes, they fought; but we rolled them back, crushed and scattered, upon the main body, and before it could charge forward we were in position again, this time higher up the pass. But the ground was covered with the dead.

“‘My children are young lions indeed! The first blow struck for a new kingdom is a hard one.’

“Such was the word which our chief caused to be passed round for our encouragement.

“Still the King’s impi could not understand that we intended seriously to give battle; and indeed, as we gazed forth upon this immense sea of tossing spears and tufted shields rolling up towards us, it was little to be wondered at. For we were as a mouthful to it. Yet every man of us was fighting for his life, and under such circumstances the meanest of animals will show bravery. But yet we were fighting for something more – for freedom, for the pride of setting up a new nation.

“On they came, those waves of a living sea, and the earth shook beneath the rumble of their tread; the air rustled with the hissing of their plumes. And as they advanced they raised the great battle-song of Tshaka, its echoes tossing like thunder from cliff to cliff: —

“‘Waqeda – qeda izizwe!Uyauhlasela pi-na?’“‘Thou hast made an end – made an end of the nations.Whither now wilt thou maraud?’”

“Above was the narrow opening of the pass, and between, for a little distance, a well-nigh open space. Here we met them hand to hand; here we held them back, while those behind pressed them onward by sheer force of weight. Foot by foot we met them, forced slowly back, but ever with our faces toward them. The ground was wet with blood, alive with falling, writhing bodies. The heights rang back our screams of rage, our defiant war-cries, and the clangour of our blows. Foot by foot we gave way; but they never got above us, never got around us. Thus shone forth the generalship of our chief in choosing this for our fighting-ground.

“Above us the pass narrowed to a steep rock-gateway overhung by lofty slopes. Suddenly, at the signal of a loud, sharp whistle, our men ceased the fight as though slain, and, turning, sprang into retreat, pouring through this great natural door. With a roar the king’s impi dashed forward in pursuit, then paused in obedience to the mandate of its leaders, who suspected a snare.

“But only for a moment did it thus halt. The mighty mass of our would-be destroyers surged up the pass and began to stream through the narrow defile. On they came, shouting ever the battle-cry; and then —Whau, Nkose! you should have soon what happened! It was as though the mountains were falling in upon us. For from either side great masses of rock came crashing down the slopes – enormous blocks of stone – some splitting into fragments as they bounded and rolled, others crashing, in their stupendous size, upon the warriors of Tshaka. These in dismay tried to draw back, but could not, for the weight of those behind pressed them on; failing in this, they bounded forward, and our assegais were there to receive them, while all the time the rolling rocks were crashing down upon their rear, filling up the entire mouth of the gap. We had shut back the army of Tshaka as it were by a gate. The great pile of rocks which filled the gap was far too high for men to leap over, too loose to be pulled down, lest the entire mass should fall upon and crush them. Such was the strategy of our chief.

“And now upon those of our enemies who were thus walled in with us there bore down the whole of our force, led by Umzilikazi in person. Those of us who were in flight turned, re-formed, and sprang like lightning to the charge; while others of us, who had been lying concealed, leaped from our ambush, and, forming a dense half-circle, we rushed upon the warriors of Tshaka. These were about two thousand, we being four times their number. But, encouraged by the roars of their brethren on the other side, they stood their ground. Whau! it was like a contest of lions! When we whirled down upon them they met us in full shock; about them there was no giving way. But by the time a man might have counted a hundred, nigh half their number had fallen; but we, too, had lost fearfully. In the same time again there would not have been one left, when Umzilikazi, waving his great shield, cried, in tones of thunder, to give them a truce.

“‘Yield, Gungana!’ he cried to the induna in command. ‘Yield, men of Tshaka! To fight on is death; to return to the king is death. We go to find a new kingdom. Join us – for it is better to live than to die.’

“‘Thou sayest truly, son of Matyobane,’ replied Gungana, after a moment of hesitation. Many, too, were there in that body who in their hearts favoured Umzilikazi, and were tired of the hard rule of Tshaka. If they went back to the King with their task unperformed, or badly performed, certain death awaited, and from the stout resistance we had made they deemed our force to be greater than it was. So the warriors agreed to accept their lives and come under our chief.

“This settled, we resumed our flight. And with this new accession to our fighting strength, we moved up the pass, singing back at those who would have followed, in derision, the war-song of Tshaka, but altered to, ‘We go to find new nations to conquer.’ Then it grew dark, but still we pressed on to where our women and cattle were awaiting us higher up, and, marching through the night, the next morning we gained the other side of the mountains.

“Then it was as the word of our chief had promised us. Fair and rolling plains lay beneath us, stretching as far as the eye could behold, dotted with kraals and cattle, and away in the distance coursed herds of game – elands and springboks and gnus and many other kinds. Then our eyes and our hearts were glad, and great and mighty was the acclamation with which we greeted him who had thus led us forth, and with one voice we all cried the royal ‘Bayéte!’ A new nation hailed Umzilikazi as King.”

Chapter Two.

The King’s Promise

“We saw no more of Tshaka’s impi. Perhaps it was that a great cloud came upon the mountains after our passage and rested there for days, and they attempted to follow, and failed because of the darkness and the mist, or refrained from following at all. Anyhow, this cloud came, as I have said, and all men hailed it as a good omen and that Umzilikazi’s múti (Medicine, mystery, magic. In this sense, the latter) had caused it to gather thus, in order that we might evade further pursuit.

“But as we swept down upon this new land like a swarm of devastating locusts – ah, the terror of its people! The report was cried from kraal to kraal that the great Zulu sea had overflowed the mountains, and was sweeping on to engulf all within the black fury of its wrath. Wherefore soon we found nothing but empty kraals, whose people had fled, but we took their cattle and their grain, and laughed and went on. Then, as our march progressed further and further, we began to find kraals which were not empty, and whose people had neglected to remove out of our destroying path. Au! it was something to see the faces of these as we sprang upon them with our fierce, roaring war-shout, which was as the thunders of heaven. Their faces were those of men already dead, and dead they soon were, for our spears devoured them as they stood, or as they lay, screaming for mercy. But mercy was no part of our plan in those days – not that Umzilikazi loved bloodshed for its own sake, or was wantonly cruel, as some of the white men say, but it was necessary to stamp out all the people in our path, to leave none behind who should say to Tshaka’s impis pursuing us: ‘This way has Umzilikazi gone.’ So a broad trail of fire and blood marked our course, which, indeed, a man might trace by watching the clouds of vultures aloft in the heavens. But time went on, and we moved further and further from Zululand, and still no pursuit.

“Now, of all this killing I and many others of the younger warriors soon grew tired. It was too much like cattle-slaying, falling upon these unresisting people, who had no fight in them. What we desired was to meet an enemy in arms, and some, fired with all this blood-shedding, even whispered of turning back to meet the impis of Tshaka in fair fight. However, when we came near the country of the Basutu we got fighting enough, for these people were brave, and though they would not meet us in the open, would retire to their cliff dwellings and hill forts and resist us fiercely, studding the approaches to their strongholds with assegai points to cut our feet and legs to pieces as we drew near, or rolling down showers of rocks upon us, so that we must flee or be crushed. This sort of fighting was not to our tastes, and we would taunt them and call them cowards for skulking behind rocks instead of coming forth to meet us in the open, man to man; and yet they were not cowards, for every race has its own method of fighting – besides, had not we ourselves adopted that very plan? – and the Basutu were brave enough in their own way.

“At that time I had found great favour with the King, who had created my father, Ntelani, one of his indunas. Boy as I was, I was tall and straight and active, and afraid of nothing. I could outstrip the fastest runner among us, and, indeed, all the younger ones were ordered to compete in foot-racing, both short and long distances. I was first in all these, and the King appointed me his chief messenger. I was incorporated into his bodyguard, and was never far from the King’s person. Indeed, he would often talk with me alone, as though I were his son; and being young and unthinking in those days, I soon began to fancy myself a much bigger man than my own father. So one day I went boldly to the King, and asked leave to tunga (Literally ‘sew’ the head-ring; i.e., to marry), for by this time we had many women-captives among us, over and above those we had been able to bring with us from Zululand.

“Umzilikazi burst out laughing.

“‘What!’ he said. ‘You, a boy – a mere child yesterday – thinking to tunga! Go, go! You are fleet of foot, Untúswa, but I have never heard that you had done anything especially brave – braver than your fellows, that is. What claim, then, have you to sue for the privilege which is granted to tried warriors alone?’

“‘Give me but the chance, O King; give me but the chance!’ I cried. ‘I will surpass everyone for valour, for I know not what fear is.’

“Umzilikazi had abandoned his good-humoured laugh. He now looked grave, even severe. In truth, I knew I was doing a bold thing in daring so much as to reply upon ‘the word’ of the King. It was an act which might have cost many a man his life. Yet there I stood, about ten paces from him, in a slightly bent attitude of humility, but meeting his gaze full and fearlessly.

“‘Do you presume upon the favour I have ever shown you, Untúswa?’ he said sternly. ‘Do you perchance forget that the slayers are ever within hail?’

“‘I lie beneath the foot of the King – the Great Elephant whose tread shaketh the world,’ I replied, launching into the most extravagant of bonga (Acclamatory praise, as applied to the King), but still meeting his threatening gaze unquailingly.