The White Shield. Mitford Bertram
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 himself to withdraw slowly from our path, and his shrill angry hiss at being disturbed, caused us to pause in order to allow him to retreat.
At length I, who was leading, halted and held up a hand. It was not a sound that I had heard in front through the black gloom, but there had floated to my nostrils on the clear air of the night an odour. It was the smell of a horse. Now of horses among us there were but few—all belonging to the King—and at Ncwelo’s kraal were none. The Great Great One perceived it too, for just then a shaft of moonlight between the tree-tops revealed his face, and upon it was the eager, smiling, terrible expression I had seen there more than once, but usually when leading us into the very thickest of the battle. Yet neither of us spake, and we resumed our way, though tenfold more cautiously than before.
Again I held up my hand. We were now where the ground ended. Before were several jagged pinnacles of rock; in front of these—air. We had made our way by a circuit to the high ground overlooking the back of Ncwelo’s pool.
There it lay, the pool—its surface glistening in the moonlight, reflecting the stars—lying beneath us at a depth, it might be, of eight or ten times the length of a man; and the murmur of voices rose to our ears, together with the occasional stamp of a horse and the sound as of the shaking of a saddle. The grasp of the King’s hand tightened on my shoulder, as we drew ourselves yet nearer to the brink of the rocks and peered cautiously forth.
“Listen, Untúswa,” he breathed into my ear. “Mark well the voices, lest the darkness prevent us from seeing the speakers. Ha!” he added, “that, at any rate, is a voice thou shouldst know.”
And there in truth, Nkose, Umzilikazi spoke no lie; for the voice was that of Ntelani, my father.
It was raised in reproof. Someone at that moment was striking a light—with the stone fire-makers the white men used at that time—and there arose to our nostrils the odour of tobacco being smoked in a pipe. But while this light still flamed we made out with the greatest plainness the faces of six men.
Yes,