Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion Page 7

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  THE CHIEF.

  Sapazani's principal kraal was situated in a bushy hollow, shut in onthree sides by a crescent of cliff and rock abounding in clefts andcaves. It contained something like a hundred dome-shaped huts standingbetween their symmetrical ring fences, and the space immediatelysurrounding it was open, save for a small clump of the flat-toppedthorn-tree, Sapazani, as we have shown, was ultra-conservative, and theslovenly and slipshod up-to-date formation of a kraal--or rather lack offormation, with huts dumped down anyhow--did not obtain among his clan.They kept to the old-fashioned double-ringed fence.

  Now this very conservatism on the part of Sapazani rendered him anobject of suspicion and distrust among the authorities administering thecountry, for it pointed to "aims." The other chiefs were content tocome into the townships in grotesque medley of European clothing--asrequired by law--trousers, a waistcoat and shirt-sleeves, or longovercoats and broad-brimmed hats, that give to any savage an absurd andundignified appearance, but this one not. He was obliged to wearclothing on the occasions when his presence was officially required atthe seats of administration, but when he did so he wore a riding suit ofunimpeachable cut, and boots and spurs accordingly, but under nocircumstances had he ever been known to wear a hat. He would not coverup and conceal his head-ring, as did the others. The fact of his not"falling into line" rendered him open to distrust, as a man with astrong hankering after the old state of things, and consequentlydissatisfied with the new, therefore a man who might become dangerous.And there were not wanting, just then, circumstances under which hemight become very dangerous indeed.

  Sapazani's kraal was remote from the seat of magistracy of his district,for which reason he was required to present himself in person, on somepretext or other, rather more frequently than was usual. To suchsummons he never failed to respond without delay. But also he neverfailed so to present himself without a considerable following. Thisfact sorely puzzled the authorities. They did not like it; yet toremonstrate would seem to argue that they were afraid of him, anattitude absolutely fatal to the prestige of the ruling race. And thesaid ruling race needed all its prestige just then, when there were lessthan a hundred mounted police in the whole of Zululand, and not muchmore than three times that number of Volunteer Rifles, but scatteredthroughout the length and breadth of the country pursuing their ordinarycivil avocations.

  Sapazani was just old enough to have fought as a mere youth in the Zuluwar of '79, and quite old enough to have fought well, and with somedistinction on the Usutu side during the struggle which culminated inthe exile of his present chief to Saint Helena. Now his relations withhis said present chief--repatriated--were something of a mystery to theruling race, and there were those who thought that given the opportunityhe would not be averse to usurping his present chief's position andauthority; for he, too, came of royal stock, in that he was of theUmtetwa tribe and could claim descent from the House of Dingiswayo. Hisrelations with Ben Halse dated from the time of the above-mentionedstruggle in which his father, Umlali, had been killed, thus leaving himin undisputed succession to the chieftainship.

  The sun was dropping over the lip of cliff-ringed crescent which shut inthe hollow. Sapazani sat outside his hut, surrounded by three or fourindunas, taking snuff; in this, too, he was conservative, not having yetcome to the European pipe. The cattle were being brought in formilking, and the frantic bellowing of calves, and the responsive "moo"of their mothers, mingled with the shrill-voiced shouts of the youngboys who were driving the respective herds. His thoughts were busy.News--great news--had come in. Down in Natal events were stirring. Thetribes there were arming, and they were looking towards Zululand. Nolonger were they the white man's dogs, as during the great war, whenthey had dared to come into the Zulu country to fight for the white man,and side by side with him. Now they were looking towards the House ofSenzangakona, and--the representative of that House was dumb.

  The song and clear laughter of women and girls bringing up water fromthe stream sounded pleasant and melodious upon the evening air, and thedeep-toned voices of men, criticising the condition and well-being ofthe cattle in the kraal.

  Blue reeks of smoke rose from the huts. The whole scene, in short, wasone of quiet and pastoral peace; but in the chief's plotting brain peacewas the last consideration that entered. Peace! What was he but a mereslave--obliged to go here, or go there, at the bare official word?Peace! All the blood in his warrior veins fired at the word. Peace! onthose terms! Every downy-faced youth among the whites expected him tosalute him as a king: he, the descendant of kings. The black preacherof another race, who had stealthily visited his kraal two moons backpreaching "Africa for the Africans," had inspired him with ideas. Hehad listened, had turned the man, so to say, inside out; but one ideahad taken hold. Sapazani was shrewd. He knew that by force of arms, bysheer force of arms alone, his people were incapable of holding theirown. They could "eat up" every white in the country, and that in asingle night. But they could not hold it afterwards. The whites couldpour in such reinforcements as to eat _them_ up in turn. But the oneidea which the preacher had left in his mind was that the whites were sodivided among themselves that there would be those high in the councilsof the dominant nation who would compel their countrymen to concede tothe Zulus their own land. It was rather mysterious, but he had heard itfrom other sources, from one, especially, of weight and knowledge, andmore than half believed it. If that were so, and they could make afight for it, why, then, all this officialdom might soon become a thingof the past, and he--Sapazani--a chief of weight, and in the full primeof his intellectual and physical gifts, and the descendant of a royalhouse, he saw himself king. As well as shrewd, Sapazani was ambitious.

  "And the last word of U' Ben was `No,'" the chief was saying.

  "That was it," answered Undhlawafa. "But that his child came up whilewe talked I think it would have been `Yes.'"

  "Ha!" ejaculated Sapazani, now vividly interested. "What said she?"

  "That I know not, son of Umlali, for I understand not the tongue of theAmangisi. But I spoke again about it yesterday, and again he refused."

  "Strange!" said the chief. "U' Ben loves money."

  "Who does not, son of Umlali, since the whites have brought it into thecountry? But though U' Ben loves money, I think that he loves his childmore."

  The chief made no reply. A very curious vein of thought--for a Zulu--was running through his mind, of which, could Ben Halse have had thesmallest inkling, that estimable trader would have cleared out at veryshort notice and have set up in business in some other part of SouthAfrica considerably remote from this.

  "U' Ben is a fool," he rejoined after a pause. "He must be growing toorich. We can get them brought," he went on, talking "dark," "and forless money. But he has always been a friend, and I wanted to give it tohim. Is his mouth really shut, think you, Undhlawafa?"

  "It is, I think. Besides, there is that about him which does notincline him to move other people to talk," answered the indunameaningly. "And now, son of Umlali, what of the messenger?"

  The chief's face grew heavy, deepening into a scowl.

  "Who are these that they are to order us hither and thither?" he said."It is only a day ago (figurative) that I was required to attend. Letthe dog come forward."

  In compliance with this mandate the said "dog" presently did appear, inthe shape of a well-looking, middle-aged Zulu, wearing a long coat withbrass buttons, also the head-ring. He saluted the chief respectfullyenough, but Sapazani gazed at him sourly.

  "So thou art here again, Manyana-ka-Mahlu, and still as the white man'sdog? _Hau_!"

  The point of which remark was that the man addressed was court messengerat the magistracy in whose jurisdiction Sapazani was resident.

  "_Nkose_! A man must live," was the answer, with a deprecatory smile."And we are not all born chiefs."

  Sapazani's eyes blazed into fury, and gripping his stick he half rose.But a whisper
from Undhlawafa restrained him--that, combined withanother thought.

  "Dog of the Abelungu," he answered, now cool and sneering. "It is wellfor thee that although some of us were _born_ chiefs we _are_ chiefs nolonger. _Hau_! Yet state thy message."

  The man was apologetic. Who was he to offend one of the great House ofUmtetwa? he protested. He meant no such thing. He was only showing howhe himself was forced to receive the white man's money. Had there beenany other way of living he need not have done so, but he was poor, andthe white man ruled the land.

  Then he proceeded to deliver his message. The attendance of Sapazaniwas required three days thence, to give evidence in a rather intricatecase of disputed ownership of cattle then pending between certain of hisown followers. The chief's temper did not improve.

  "Ho, Manyana. I wronged thee just now," he said, "I called thee thewhite man's dog, but we are all the white man's dogs--I among them themost. Well, so far thy message. I will be there, as how should it beotherwise since we lie beneath the heel of these little great great oneswho rule the land?" he concluded, bitterly sneering.

  "_Nkose_!"

  "Well, there are those who will give thee food and drink. Withdraw."

  "_Nkose_!"

  The messenger obeyed, and the chief sat moodily. Would anything come ofthe unrest that was seething on the other side of the Tugela? He--to besummoned to take a long journey on account of some trumpery cattle case!Yet, was that only a pretext? was the sudden suspicion which flashedthrough his mind. Well, if it was not much was likely to come of it.No armed force had been mobilised by the whites as yet in any part ofthe country, and in case of any attempt at arresting him, why, as wehave said, he was not in the habit of going into civilisation exactlyalone. The voice of Undhlawafa broke in upon his musings.

  "It is not well, son of Umlali, to shake sticks at those who come fromthe court," he said drily. He was an old man, and privileged. "Manyanagrows from a good tree, but what if some other had been sent, and hadreturned to say that he had been received with roughness, and thatSapazani was not loyal?"

  "Loyal!" echoed the chief, in bitter disgust. "Loyal! _Hau_! Loyal--to whom?"

  Beyond a murmur which might have meant anything, the other made noreply. Sapazani looked up and around. It was nearly dark. The soundsof evening had merged into the sounds of night. Most of the inhabitantsof the kraal had retired within the huts, for there was a chill feelingin the air. He arose.

  "The other messenger," he said. "Now we will talk with him."

  He, too, went into his hut, and drawing his green blanket round himproceeded to take snuff. Undhlawafa, who, after a whispered injunctionto some one outside, had followed him, proceeded to do likewise.

  Soon a man crept through the low doorway and saluted. In his then frameof mind the chief noted with double irritation that the new arrival worethat abomination, in his eyes, the article of European clothing commonlycalled a shirt. Squatted on the ground the latter's mission unfoldeditself bit by bit. All the tribes in the north of Natal were ready.Those in the south of the Zulu country were ready too. How was it withthose in the north?

  In reply to this Sapazani and his induna put a number of questions tothe emissary, as the way of natives is. These were answered--somestraightly, some crooked.

  "And He--what is _his_ word?"

  "He is dumb," replied the emissary. "There are those who have spoken inhis ear, and He is dumb."

  Sapazani sat, thinking deeply. "He" applied to the head of the royalHouse. More than ever did the insidious poison of the Ethiopianpreacher of whom mention has been made, come back to his mind. Now hesaw his own chance. Not by force of arms alone could a change beeffected; but by the dissensions among the ruling race. Now was thetime--before it should pass.

  "Tell him who sent you," he said, "that at the moment I shall be ready.That is my `word.'"

  "_Nkose_!"