Allan's Wife Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  THE ZULU IMPI

  After burying the elephant tusks, and having taken careful notes of thebearings and peculiarities of the country so that I might be able tofind the spot again, we proceeded on our journey. For a month or moreI trekked along the line which now divides the Orange Free Statefrom Griqualand West, and the Transvaal from Bechuanaland. Theonly difficulties met with were such as are still common to Africantravellers--occasional want of water and troubles about crossing sluitsand rivers. I remember that I outspanned on the spot where Kimberley nowstands, and had to press on again in a hurry because there was no water.I little dreamed then that I should live to see Kimberley a greatcity producing millions of pounds worth of diamonds annually, and oldIndaba-zimbi's magic cannot have been worth so much after all, or hewould have told me.

  I found the country almost entirely depopulated. Not very long beforeMosilikatze the Lion, Chaka's General had swept across it in hisprogress towards what is now Matabeleland. His footsteps were evidentenough. Time upon time I trekked up to what had evidently been the sitesof Kaffir kraals. Now the kraals were ashes and piles of tumbled stones,and strewn about among the rank grass were the bones of hundreds of men,women, and children, all of whom had kissed the Zulu assegai. I rememberthat in one of these desolate places I found the skull of a child inwhich a ground-lark had built its nest. It was the twittering of theyoung birds inside that first called my attention to it. Shortly afterthis we met with our second great adventure, a much more serious andtragic one than the first.

  We were trekking parallel with the Kolong river when a herd of blesbockcrossed the track. I fired at one of them and hit it behind. It gallopedabout a hundred yards with the rest of the herd, then lay down. As wewere in want of meat, not having met with any game for a few days past,I jumped on to my horse, and, telling Indaba-zimbi that I would overtakethe waggons or meet them on the further side of a rise about an hour'strek away, I started after the wounded buck. As soon as I came withina hundred yards of it, however, it jumped up and ran away as fastas though it were untouched, only to lie down again at a distance. Ifollowed, thinking that strength would soon fail it. This happened threetimes. On the third occasion it vanished behind a ridge, and, thoughby now I was out of both temper and patience, I thought I might as wellride to the crest and see if I could get a shot at it on the furtherside.

  I reached the ridge, which was strewn with stones, looked over it, andsaw--a Zulu Impi!

  I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Yes, there was no doubt of it. Theywere halted about a thousand yards away, by the water; some were lyingdown, some were cooking at fires, others were stalking about with spearsand shields in their hands; there might have been two thousand ormore of them in all. While I was wondering--and that with no littleuneasiness--what on earth they could be doing there, suddenly I heard awild cry to the right and left of me. I glanced first one way, then theother. From either side a great Zulu was bearing down on me, their broadstabbing assegais aloft, and black shields in their left hands. The manto the right was about fifteen yards away, he to the left was not morethan ten. On they came, their fierce eyes almost starting out of theirheads, and I felt, with a cold thrill of fear, that in another threeseconds those broad "bangwans" might be buried in my vitals. On suchoccasions we act, I suppose, more from instinct than from anythingelse--there is no time for thought. At any rate, I dropped the reinsand, raising my gun, fired point blank at the left-hand man. The bulletstruck him in the middle of his shield, pierced it, and passed throughhim, and over he rolled upon the veldt. I swung round in the saddle;most happily my horse was accustomed to standing still when I fired fromhis back, also he was so surprised that he did not know which way toshy. The other savage was almost on me; his outstretched shield reachedthe muzzle of my gun as I pulled the trigger of the left barrel. Itexploded, the warrior sprung high into the air, and fell against myhorse dead, his spear passing just in front of my face.

  Without waiting to reload, or even to look if the main body of the Zulushad seen the death of their two scouts, I turned my horse and drovemy heels into his sides. As soon as I was down the slope of the rise Ipulled a little to the right in order to intercept the waggons beforethe Zulus saw them. I had not gone three hundred yards in this newdirection when, to my utter astonishment, I struck a trail marked withwaggon-wheels and the hoofs of oxen. Of waggons there must have beenat least eight, and several hundred cattle. Moreover, they had passedwithin twelve hours; I could tell that by the spoor. Then I understood;the Impi was following the track of the waggons, which, in allprobability, belonged to a party of emigrant Boers.

  The spoor of the waggons ran in the direction I wished to go, so Ifollowed it. About a mile further on I came to the crest of a rise, andthere, about five furlongs away, I saw the waggons drawn up in a roughlaager upon the banks of the river. There, too, were my own waggonstrekking down the slope towards them.

  In another five minutes I was there. The Boers--for Boers theywere--were standing about outside the little laager watching theapproach of my two waggons. I called to them, and they turned and sawme. The very first man my eyes fell on was a Boer named Hans Botha, whomI had known well years ago in the Cape. He was not a bad specimen of hisclass, but a very restless person, with a great objection to authority,or, as he expressed it, "a love of freedom." He had joined a party ofthe emigrant Boers some years before, but, as I learned presently,had quarrelled with its leader, and was now trekking away into thewilderness to found a little colony of his own. Poor fellow! It was hislast trek.

  "How do you do, Meinheer Botha?" I said to him in Dutch.

  The man looked at me, looked again, then, startled out of his Dutchstolidity, cried to his wife, who was seated on the box of the waggon--

  "Come here, Frau, come. Here is Allan Quatermain, the Englishman, theson of the 'Predicant.' How goes it, Heer Quatermain, and what is thenews down in the Cape yonder?"

  "I don't know what the news is in the Cape, Hans," I answered, solemnly;"but the news here is that there is a Zulu Impi upon your spoor andwithin two miles of the waggons. That I know, for I have just shot twoof their sentries," and I showed him my empty gun.

  For a moment there was a silence of astonishment, and I saw the bronzedfaces of the men turn pale beneath their tan, while one or two of thewomen gave a little scream, and the children crept to their sides.

  "Almighty!" cried Hans, "that must be the Umtetwa Regiment that Dingaansent against the Basutus, but who could not come at them because of themarshes, and so were afraid to return to Zululand, and struck north tojoin Mosilikatze."

  "Laager up, Carles! Laager up for your lives, and one of you jump on ahorse and drive in the cattle."

  At this moment my own waggons came up. Indaba-zimbi was sitting on thebox of the first, wrapped in a blanket. I called him and told him thenews.

  "Ill tidings, Macumazahn," he said; "there will be dead Boers aboutto-morrow morning, but they will not attack till dawn, then they willwipe out the laager _so!_" and he passed his hand before his mouth.

  "Stop that croaking, you white-headed crow," I said, though I knewhis words were true. What chance had a laager of ten waggons all toldagainst at least two thousand of the bravest savages in the world?

  "Macumazahn, will you take my advice this time?" Indaba-zimbi said,presently.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "This. Leave your waggons here, jump on that horse, and let us two runfor it as hard as we can go. The Zulus won't follow us, they will belooking after the Boers."

  "I won't leave the other white men," I said; "it would be the act of acoward. If I die, I die."

  "Very well, Macumazahn, then stay and be killed," he answered, takinga pinch of snuff. "Come, let us see about the waggons," and we walkedtowards the laager.

  Here everything was in confusion. However, I got hold of Hans Botha andput it to him if it would not be best to desert the waggons and make arun for it.

  "How can we do it?" he answered; "two of the women are
too fat to goa mile, one is sick in childbed, and we have only six horses among us.Besides, if we did we should starve in the desert. No, Heer Allan, wemust fight it out with the savages, and God help us!"

  "God help us, indeed. Think of the children, Hans!"

  "I can't bear to think," he answered, in a broken voice, looking at hisown little girl, a sweet, curly-haired, blue-eyed child of six, namedTota, whom I had often nursed as a baby. "Oh, Heer Allan, your father,the Predicant, always warned me against trekking north, and I neverwould listen to him because I thought him a cursed Englishman; now I seemy folly. Heer Allan, if you can, try to save my child from those blackdevils; if you live longer than I do, or if you can't save her, killher," and he clasped my hand.

  "It hasn't come to that yet, Hans," I said.

  Then we set to work on the laager. The waggons, of which, includingmy two, there were ten, were drawn into the form of a square, and thedisselboom of each securely lashed with reims to the underworks of thatin front of it. The wheels also were locked, and the space between theground and the bed-planks of the waggons was stuffed with branchesof the "wait-a-bit" thorn that fortunately grew near in considerablequantities. In this way a barrier was formed of no mean strength asagainst a foe unprovided with firearms, places being left for the mento fire from. In a little over an hour everything was done that could bedone, and a discussion arose as to the disposal of the cattle, which hadbeen driven up close to the camp. Some of the Boers were anxious to getthem into the laager, small as it was, or at least as many of them as itwould hold. I argued strongly against this, pointing out that the bruteswould probably be seized with panic as soon as the firing began, andtrample the defenders of the laager under foot. As an alternative planI suggested that some of the native servants should drive the herd alongthe valley of the river till they reached a friendly tribe or some otherplace of safety. Of course, if the Zulus saw them they would be taken,but the nature of the ground was favourable, and it was possible thatthey might escape if they started at once. The proposition was promptlyagreed to, and, what is more, it was settled that one Dutchman and suchof the women and children as could travel should go with them. In halfan hour's time twelve of them started with the natives, the Boer incharge, and the cattle. Three of my own men went with the latter, thethree others and Indaba-zimbi stopped with me in the laager.

  The parting was a heart-breaking scene, upon which I do not care todwell. The women wept, the men groaned, and the children looked on withscared white faces. At length they were gone, and I for one was thankfulof it. There remained in the laager seventeen white men, four natives,the two Boer fraus who were too stout to travel, the woman in childbedand her baby, and Hans Bother's little daughter Tota, whom he could notmake up his mind to part with. Happily her mother was already dead. Andhere I may state that ten of the women and children, together with abouthalf of the cattle, escaped. The Zulu Impi never saw them, and on thethird day of travel they came to the fortified place of a Griqua chief,who sheltered them on receiving half the cattle in payment. Thenceby slow degrees they journeyed down to the Cape Colony, reaching acivilized region within a little more than a year from the date of theattack on the laager.

  The afternoon was now drawing towards evening, but still there were nosigns of the Impi. A wild hope struck us that they might have goneon about their business. Ever since Indaba-zimbi had heard that theregiment was supposed to belong to the Umtetwa tribe, he had, I noticed,been plunged in deep thought. Presently he came to me and volunteeredto go out and spy upon their movements. At first Hans Botha was againstthis idea, saying that he was a "verdomde swartzel"--an accursed blackcreature--and would betray us. I pointed out that there was nothing tobetray. The Zulus must know where the waggons were, but it was importantfor us to gain information of their movements. So it was agreed thatIndaba-zimbi should go. I told him this. He nodded his white lock, said"All right, Macumazahn," and started. I noticed with some surprise,however, that before he did so he went to the waggon and fetched his"mouti," or medicine, which, together with his other magical apparatus,he always carried in a skin bag. I asked him why he did this. Heanswered that it was to make himself invulnerable against the spearsof the Zulus. I did not in the least believe his explanation, for in myheart I was sure that he meant to take the opportunity to make a boltof it, leaving me to my fate. I did not, however, interfere to preventthis, for I had an affection for the old fellow, and sincerely hopedthat he might escape the doom which overshadowed us.

  So Indaba-zimbi sauntered off, and as I looked at his retreating form Ithought I should never see it again. But I was mistaken, and little knewthat he was risking his life, not for the Boers whom he hated one andall, but for me whom in his queer way he loved.

  When he had gone we completed our preparations for defence,strengthening the waggons and the thorns beneath with earth and stones.Then at sunset we ate and drank as heartily as we could under thecircumstances, and when we had done, Hans Botha, as head of the party,offered up prayer to God for our preservation. It was a touching sightto see the burly Dutchman, his hat off, his broad face lit up by thelast rays of the setting sun, praying aloud in homely, simple languageto Him who alone could save us from the spears of a cruel foe. Iremember that the last sentence of his prayer was, "Almighty, if we mustbe killed, save the women and children and my little girl Tota from theaccursed Zulus, and do not let us be tortured."

  I echoed the request very earnestly in my own heart, that I know, for incommon with the others I was dreadfully afraid, and it must be admittednot without reason.

  Then the darkness came on, and we took up our appointed places eachwith a rifle in his hands and peered out into the gloom in silence.Occasionally one of the Boers would light his pipe with a brand from thesmouldering fire, and the glow of it would shine for a few moments onhis pale, anxious face.

  Behind me one of the stout "fraus" lay upon the ground. Even the terrorof our position could not keep her heavy eyes from their accustomedsleep, and she snored loudly. On the further side of her, just by thefire, lay little Tota, wrapped in a kaross. She was asleep also, herthumb in her mouth, and from time to time her father would come to lookat her.

  So the hours wore on while we waited for the Zulus. But from my intimateknowledge of the habits of natives I had little fear that they wouldattack us at night, though, had they done so, they could have compassedour destruction with but small loss to themselves. It is not the habitof this people, they like to fight in the light of day--at dawn forpreference.

  About eleven o'clock, just as I was nodding a little at my post, I hearda low whistle outside the laager. Instantly I was wide awake, and allalong the line I heard the clicking of locks as the Boers cocked theirguns.

  "Macumazahn," said a voice, the voice of Indaba-zimbi, "are you there?"

  "Yes," I answered.

  "Then hold a light so that I can see how to climb into the laager," hesaid.

  "Yah! yah! hold a light," put in one of the Boers. "I don't trustthat black schepsel of yours, Heer Quatermain; he may have some ofhis countrymen with him." Accordingly a lantern was produced and heldtowards the voice. There was Indaba-zimbi alone. We let him into thelaager and asked him the news.

  "This is the news, white men," he said. "I waited till dark, andcreeping up to the place where the Zulus are encamped, hid myself behinda stone and listened. They are a great regiment of Umtetwas as BaasBotha yonder thought. They struck the spoor of the waggons three daysago and followed it. To-night they sleep upon their spears, to-morrow atdaybreak they will attack the laager and kill everybody. They are verybitter against the Boers, because of the battle at Blood River and theother fights, and that is why they followed the waggons instead of goingstraight north after Mosilikatze."

  A kind of groan went up from the group of listening Dutchmen.

  "I tell you what it is, Heeren," I said, "instead of waiting to bebutchered here like buck in a pitfall, let us go out now and fall uponthe Impi while it sleeps."

  This proposition e
xcited some discussion, but in the end only one mancould be found to vote for it. Boers as a rule lack that dash whichmakes great soldiers; such forlorn hopes are not in their line, andrather than embark upon them they prefer to take their chance in alaager, however poor that chance may be. For my own part I firmlybelieve that had my advice been taken we should have routed the Zulus.Seventeen desperate white men, armed with guns, would have produced nosmall effect upon a camp of sleeping savages. But it was not taken, soit is no use talking about it.

  After that we went back to our posts, and slowly the weary night woreon towards the dawn. Only those who have watched under similarcircumstances while they waited the advent of almost certain and crueldeath, can know the torturing suspense of those heavy hours. But theywent somehow, and at last in the far east the sky began to lighten,while the cold breath of dawn stirred the tilts of the waggons andchilled me to the bone. The fat Dutchwoman behind me woke with a yawn,then, remembering all, moaned aloud, while her teeth chattered withcold and fear. Hans Botha went to his waggon and got a bottle of peachbrandy, from which he poured into a tin pannikin, giving us each a stiffdram, and making attempts to be cheerful as he did so. But his affectedjocularity only seemed to depress his comrades the more. Certainly itdepressed me.

  Now the light was growing, and we could see some way into the mist whichstill hung densely over the river, and now--ah! there it was. From theother side of the hill, a thousand yards or more from the laager, camea faint humming sound. It grew and grew till it gathered to a chant--theawful war chant of the Zulus. Soon I could catch the words. They weresimple enough:

  "We shall slay, we shall slay! Is it not so, my brothers? Our spearsshall blush blood-red. Is it not so, my brothers? For we are thesucklings of Chaka, blood is our milk, my brothers. Awake, childrenof the Umtetwa, awake! The vulture wheels, the jackal sniffs the air;Awake, children of the Umtetwa--cry aloud, ye ringed men: There isthe foe, we shall slay them. Is it not so, my brothers? _S'gee! S'gee!S'gee!_"

  Such is a rough translation of that hateful chant which to this very dayI often seem to hear. It does not look particularly imposing on paper,but if, while he waited to be killed, the reader could have heard itas it rolled through the still air from the throats of nearly threethousand warriors singing all to time, he would have found it impressiveenough.

  Now the shields began to appear over the brow of the rise. They cameby companies, each company about ninety strong. Altogether there werethirty-one companies. I counted them. When all were over they formedthemselves into a triple line, then trotted down the slope towards us.At a distance of a hundred and fifty yards or just out of the shot ofsuch guns as we had in those days, they halted and began singing again--

  "Yonder is the kraal of the white man--a little kraal, my brothers; We shall eat it up, we shall trample it flat, my brothers. But where are the white man's cattle--where are his oxen, my brothers?"

  This question seemed to puzzle them a good deal, for they sang the songagain and again. At last a herald came forward, a great man with ivoryrings about his arm, and, putting his hands to his mouth, called out tous asking where our cattle were.

  Hans Botha climbed on to the top of a waggon and roared out that theymight answer that question themselves.

  Then the herald called again, saying that he saw the cattle had beensent away.

  "We shall go and find the cattle," he said, "then we shall come and killyou, because without cattle you must stop where you are, but if we waitto kill you before we get the cattle, they may have trekked too far forus to follow. And if you try to run away we shall easily catch you whitemen!"

  This struck me as a very odd speech, for the Zulus generally attack anenemy first and take his cattle afterwards; still, there was a certainamount of plausibility about it. While I was still wondering what itall might mean, the Zulus began to run past us in companies towards theriver. Suddenly a shout announced that they had found the spoor of thecattle, and the whole Impi of them started down it at a run till theyvanished over a rise about a quarter of a mile away.

  We waited for half an hour or more, but nothing could we see of them.

  "Now I wonder if the devils have really gone," said Hans Botha to me."It is very strange."

  "I will go and see," said Indaba-zimbi, "if you will come with me,Macumazahn. We can creep to the top of the ridge and look over."

  At first I hesitated, but curiosity overcame me. I was young in thosedays and weary with suspense.

  "Very well," I said, "we will go."

  So we started. I had my elephant gun and ammunition. Indaba-zimbi hadhis medicine bag and an assegai. We crept to the top of the rise likesportsmen stalking a buck. The slope on the other side was strewn withrocks, among which grew bushes and tall grass.

  "They must have gone down the Donga," I said to Indaba-zimbi, "I can'tsee one of them."

  As I spoke there came a roar of men all round me. From every rock, fromevery tuft of grass rose a Zulu warrior. Before I could turn, before Icould lift a gun, I was seized and thrown.

  "Hold him! Hold the White Spirit fast!" cried a voice. "Hold him, orhe will slip away like a snake. Don't hurt him, but hold him fast. LetIndaba-zimbi walk by his side."

  I turned on Indaba-zimbi. "You black devil, you have betrayed me!" Icried.

  "Wait and see, Macumazahn," he answered, coolly. "Now the fight is goingto begin."