CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE SONG OF THE SHIELD.

The regiments, organised and armed, and decorated for war, filed through the great entrance of the kraal Kwa'zingwenya, and formed up in a vast half-circle upon the plain outside, whither the King had already proceeded, and the _Bayete_ was roared forth in tremendous volume as the Great Great One stalked majestically into the open formation thus left. His words were few:

"Warriors," he said, "yonder is a nation's death or a nation's life." Then he gave the signal for the war-dance to begin.

This was short, for we had no time to spare for ornamental ceremonies. When the dance and the song were at their height, they ceased suddenly, and there was dead silence.

Umzilikazi was standing in the midst, clad in his full war costume of white flowing hair and leopard-skin and beadwork, his head crowned with nodding ostrich plumes of black and white. In his left hand he held his lion-skin shield, tufted with the tail of the beast, and a light casting spear.

Now, as we waited, breathless, he took the little assegai in his right hand, and, poising it for a moment with a quivering motion, he hurled it from him--hurled it fast and far--in the direction of the Pass of the Inkume, in the direction of Dingane's _impi_, and, as it fell to earth, he pronounced in a loud voice--

"Go, children of Matyobane!"

A great and mighty shout rent the air, and, falling into marching rank, my own company of The Scorpions leading, our _impi_ set forth. In strength we numbered about seven thousand, of whom between two or three thousand were those who had been enrolled from among conquered peoples, and, of course, not equal to those of pure Zulu blood. The strength of Mhlangana's _impi_ I could only guess, but estimated it to be about ten thousand strong. Wherefore, you see, _Nkose_, our chances were not great, and depended almost entirely upon our being able to strike the enemy unexpectedly, and roll up his battle rank in the panic of surprise.

While these preparations were going forward, the white _isanusi_, sad and troubled at heart, in the course of his wanderings ran against Lalusini, who gave him greeting.

"Will your _muti_ avail to bring victory to yon host, my father?" she said, with her sweet smile.

"I know not. If it is the will of the Great Great One who sent me, I have no fear," he answered.

"Is your power, then, so doubtful, O maker of strange ceremonies?" she went on.

"I pretend to no magic; on the contrary, I reprobate such," said the white priest, shaking his head, for he distrusted and disliked the beautiful sorceress. "It is not given to us to pry into the future, which is in the sight of One alone."

"Why, then is my _muti_ greater than yours, white stranger," she replied. "For I _can_ look into the future, and I foresee that this nation shall win the battle. Yea, I know this."

"I hope it may be so, Lalusini," said the white man, still sadly. But the other women who stood by, hearing this presage, cried aloud in astonishment and delight, repeating Lalusini's words again and again, till they had turned them into something of a song.

As we marched forth thus to war the sky was by degrees blackening up for rain, and a deep, distant roll of thunder was heard from time to time creeping over the ridge of the world. The old women, whose furrowed faces and ragged top-knots stuck over the kraal palisades as they watched us deploy into rank, were dumb and shaking with apathy and fear, for in them still lived an ingrained terror of the might of Tshaka, whereas we young people had almost forgotten it, and with us it was a mere tradition. Of young women and girls there seemed to be none in the kraal, or if there were they were keeping in hiding. And though my thoughts now were all of war, I could not refrain from looking backward to try and obtain a glimpse of Lalusini. But in vain.

Not backward should I have looked, however, but forward; for now, as we turned the corner of a hill, a sound as of singing was heard in front. _Whau_! There on a little rise stood Lalusini herself. She was arrayed in her beautiful beaded dress, and wore her heavy golden ornaments. Behind her came a great number of girls, all carrying green boughs in their hands and singing songs of war and of victory, as was their wont to hearten us when we set out upon any expedition of weight and importance.

As we came near, Lalusini drew a little apart from the rest, and standing thus upon the summit of the rise, in full view of the whole army, her proudly-reared head and splendid form thrown out by the livid thundercloud behind the hill, she lifted up her voice and sang, this time not in the dark tongue of the Bakoni, but in pure Zulu. And the wild sweetness of her voice was of the sort which renders warriors mad.

"A song of the Shield, In the battle's ring! A droop of the Shield Guards the life of a King.

"Proud tuft, proud hide, Which the White Bull gave! Now the White Bull's pride Shall a nation save.

"Burnt kraal, stamped field-- Thick the vultures soar, And laugh o'er the Shield In the van of war.

"Rolls the battle song On the war-wave's crest, Bringing might to the strong, To the weak ones--rest.

"Great is small, Little is great. Who may fall In the coming Fate.

"Who may fear On the death-soaked field? None who hear The Song of The Shield!"

Now the last words were taken up by her band of attendant girls, but the voices of these were soon lost in the great rolling volume of the warriors' chorus, which was caught up and tossed along the ranks as the roaring of a mighty ocean--

"Who may fear On the death-soaked field? None who hear The Song of The Shield."

As they marched past, a quick, keen flash darted down from heaven immediately upon the singer, whom all men thought was stricken--yet not; for in the sudden silence that followed, and the muttering rumble of the thunder-tone, she still stood--that splendid daughter of a race of kings--her eyes still turned skyward, her form outlined in its beautiful curves against the livid blue of the storm-cloud.

After this we marched in silence, no more singing or noise of any kind being allowed. But as we held on swiftly through the night, this great array of armed men, like a destroying flight of locusts in its straight, fell course, the echo of that wonderful song was still in every ear, its burden in every heart; and it seemed to each warrior that he had the strength of ten; for the Song of the Shield was surely the song of victory.

To us came from time to time runners, bearing tidings from Mgwali. No move forward had been made by the _impi_ from Zululand, yet now and again, far below upon the plain, our outpost, which had taken the place of that of Mhlangana, could discern a point of white, which was the swift signal of those who had been posted at intervals to watch, and pass along word to Dingane's leaders.

"_Whau_! We will give them a brave good-morning, Untuswa," said the King, as, having gained our position along the ridges of Inkume, shortly after midnight, the Great Great One and I had crept carefully up to Mgwali's outlook. "See, now, I desire not to hurry the battle, yet the sun will not be very high before we shall whisper them to come on. Thy strategy has been good, Untuswa, yet perchance they will remember the pass in the Kwahlamba and fear to enter this. Ah! would that we could roll down the mountain itself upon them here as there. It would save us many men."

This we could not do, for the straight cliffs shooting up from, the defile were smooth and firm. No loose rocks were here, hardly a few small stones, so firm were the iron crests of the mountain.

Now I had endeavoured to dissuade the King from accompanying us, pointing out that in the event of our destruction he could, on receiving tidings thereof, safely fall back upon Kalipe's _impi_ and thus retreat, building up the nation afresh. But my words were laughed at.

"What, Untuswa? Shall I show my back to an enemy because he is strong?" had said Umzilikazi. "Have the horns of the Bull been cut off that he can no longer gore? _Whau_! thou art brave, son of Ntelani--braver there is none--but young. The generalship that rolled back the _impi_ of Tshaka shall roll back that of Dingane, or--_Whau_! I would rather die with a great nation than live to reign over a small one."

Thus spake Umzilikazi, and I think, _Nkose_, he knew that the life of our nation was an uncertain thing that day, for he took in all the lay of the ground, every stone, every rock, every place or point that could offer us the smallest advantage, with the eye of the great leader he was. Yet with my generalship he interfered not one jot, thoroughly approving it.

Beneath us lay the entrance to the pass, where I had beheld the huge ghost-animal squatted howling, and this widened out into a broad hollow, opening on the outer side, as it were, through great gates between slanting ridges or spurs, rocky and steep; and on the nearer side of these ridges ran up the two great rifts: one on the right hand, the other on the left.

Our force was divided into three. Under cover of the darkness, as the moon sank low, we disposed companies of warriors in each of these side rifts, while, some little way back, within the pass, and where the rocks narrowed, so that but a few men could hold it against an army, were posted picked fighters, including a section of my regiment, The Scorpions. These were to hold the passage against the invaders, while we, swooping down upon them from either side, would have them in a trap.

The party within the pass was under one Gasibona, a brother of that Gungana who had held the command which was now mine, and a brave and skilful fighter. The bulk of The Scorpions were under the second chief, Xulawayo, for the King had ordered me to remain with him during the earlier part of the battle.

"The white shield will be needed later, son of Ntelani," he said. And I understood.

The sun rose in a ball of flame, and the world grew light. Faraway over the plain beneath us we could see the dewdrops sparkling on the grass and in the bush sprays; but there was no game in sight, not even a small buck. It had fled from the disturbing presence of the Zulu host. Fair and bright now seemed this place, which seen by night was awesome and ghostly. Time went by. Our warriors, rank upon rank, squatted behind their shields eager for the moment, for here, indeed, was an enemy worthy of our strength. No miserable Bapedi or skulking Barutsi these, but men of our own blood, the disciplined troops of mighty Zulu-land.

Now the word was given to show the signal. Three times it waved--the white blanket--and, immediately after, we beheld a white spot showing far away on the plain beneath; then another beyond this. The word was being passed along the line of sentinels that the _impi_ might now advance in safety.

The King, with Mcumbete and two or three more of the _izinduna_, lay hidden among the crags at the highest point overlooking the pass, hence he might direct our operations by signal, which we then and there arranged. My plan was simple--namely, to draw the host of Mhlangana into the hollow formed by the Place of the Three Rifts, and, at the moment they were about to enter the pass, to fall upon them flank and rear. By this means I hoped to strike terror and confusion among them, so completely would they be taken by surprise. I reckoned that we should slay a great number in the first moments of panic, and, by reducing the odds against us, could, without difficulty, defeat them with enormous slaughter. _Au_ but I reckoned without the generalship of Silwane.

"They come, Great Great One," I whispered.

Now we could see the sheen of spears, as the _impi_, looking like an immense mass of black ants, appeared in the far distance. We watched it draw near, and it seemed that our victory was assured. It was advancing in loose order, having no fear or thought of surprise, as indeed why should it have, seeing that its own outpost had signalled the road clear? Ah, they little knew, those warriors of Dingane, that ours was the outpost--ours the signal--luring them to destruction and defeat.

"By the head-ring of my father, but yonder are splendid soldiers!" said the King as we watched the _impi_ draw near. "Yet had we but Kalipe's force not one of them should be left alive to return and tell Dingane of the strength or weakness of the Amandebeli. Say now, Untuswa. Which is Mhlangana?"

"I see him not, Black Elephant. Perhaps he lingers in rear of the march, fearing no attack."

"Ha! It may be so. Go now, son of Ntelani, for the hunting dogs of Dingane draw very near. They shall soon feel the horns of the Bull."

As I started off to join my division, which was halted in the great rift beneath, which ran up from the hollow on the left of the King as he faced it, I could see that the _impi_ was still quite unsuspicious. I saw, too, that in numbers it was slightly inferior to ourselves; but then, against that, our force comprised about two regiments of enrolled slaves, who could not altogether be depended upon, even to save themselves from the assegai. Excepting the few warriors left to guard the pass, our entire force was massed in these two rifts, half in each, and we lay facing each other, awaiting the signal of the King.

But the strategy of Silwane baffled us. Instead of approaching in the same loose and open order to thread the defile, he sent forward an advance guard of about four hundred men.

They passed our hiding-place, for we lay securely concealed. But when they came opposite the mouth of the other rift, they somehow discovered the presence of warriors--armed and lurking. Then Xulawayo, who was in command on that side, ordered a charge, hoping to fall on these men and slay them before they could convey the alarm to the rest. It was a vain thought, however, for these soldiers of Dingane, so far from giving way, raised their war-cry, and stood awaiting the attack.

Further concealment was useless. The whole _impi_ came pouring into the hollow, fearless, but widely alert.

Kept well in hand by their sub-chiefs, they fought splendidly at first. Directly they came in touch with our lines they charged, and charged straight. _Whau_! We had not reckoned upon this, and soon our regiments of slaves gave way and began to flee, throwing us back in confusion.

Ha! Then followed a wild din. The hollow was a mass of broad shields and fighting forms, surging wildly hither and thither, and the rocks rang with the clash of wood and hard hide; the thunder of the war-shout, the wild death-yell, and the choking groans of the wounded, smitten unto death. Ha! we "saw red"; our one thought was--blood--blood--ah! and it flowed--yes, it flowed! _Hau_! that fight was short and sharp. Nearly half our strength lay slain or sorely wounded, and the men of Dingane had lost nearly as many. Yet we had been stamped flat that day but for a rumour that spread among our enemies that a large force was advancing to cut them off on their rear. That saved us. They began to retreat, yet not hurriedly and in rout, but facing us and fighting their way. We, for our part, made no pursuit--_au_! we were glad to let them go-- and after making a show of pursuit we retreated, battered, wearied, and utterly disheartened, to the heights above the rift, where we had lain concealed at first. Some there were among us who declared we ought to rejoice, for that, great as had been our losses, still we had beaten back the might of Dingane, who in future would leave us in peace. But I knew better than that, wherefore I would not withdraw the remnant of our forces from that position, but watched and waited.

Now when the retreat began, Ngubazana the Gaza, deeming it a rout, had called a number of young warriors of The Scorpions to follow him, and this band of hotheads had plunged into the thickest of the Zulu ranks. But these turned. _Whau_! That was no rout, and in a moment there was not one of those young fools left standing. But Ngubazana, who was much older and should have known better, was the last to fall, and he fell fighting, for quite a ring of Silwane's people went down before his spear. At last they threw a heavy knobstick at him, which felled him, so that he dropped upon the slain which he had heaped up there, and they made an end of him.

Thus he died the death of a warrior, fighting bravely to the last; and it was a strange death for one who had left his country to become the follower and servant of a teacher of peace.