'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War

  CHAPTER SIX.

  HLANGANI, THE HERALD.

  Suddenly, as if by magic, the wild war-dance ceased, and the fierce,murderous rhythm was reduced to silence. Sinking down in a half-sittingposture, quivering with suppressed excitement, their dark forms bentforward like those of so many crouching leopards, their eyeballs rollingin the lurid glow, the Kafirs rested eagerly, awaiting what was tofollow.

  A group of chiefs advanced within the circle of light. A little infront of these, prominent among them by reason of his towering statureand herculean build, was a warrior of savage and awe-inspiring aspect.His countenance bore an evil, scowling sneer, which looked habitual, andhis eyes glowed like live coals. He wore a headdress of monkey skins,above which waved a tuft of plumes from the tail of the blue crane. Hisbody was nearly naked, and his muscular limbs, red with ochre, weredecorated with fringes of cows' tails and tufts of flowing hair. On hisleft arm, above the elbow, he wore a thick; square armlet of solidivory, and in his hand he carried a large, broad-bladed assegai. Oneshoulder was swathed in a rude bandage, the latter nearly concealed byfantastic hair adornments.

  A hum of suppressed eagerness went round the crowd of excited barbariansas this man stood forth in their midst. It subsided into a silence thatmight be felt as he spoke:

  "I am Hlangani, the son of Ngcesiba, the Herald of the Great ChiefSarili [Or Kreli], the son of Hintza, of the House of Gcaleka. Hear myword, for it is the word of Sarili, the Great Chief--the chief paramountof all the children of Xosa.

  "This is the word of the Great Chief to his children of the House ofNgqika [Or Gaika]. Lo, the time has come when the Amanglezi [English]seek a quarrel with us. We can no longer live side by side, say they.There is no room for the Ama-Gcaleka in the land they have hithertodwelt in. They must go.

  "So they have located our dogs, the cowardly Amafengu (Fingoes), ourslaves and our dogs, on the next land to ours, that we may have acontinual plague to scourge us, that our sides may be wrung with thepest of these stinging flies, that our name may be spat upon and laughedat by those who were our own dogs. Thus would these English provoke usto quarrel.

  "Who were these Amafengu? Were they not our dogs and our slaves? Whoare they now? Still dogs--but not _our_ dogs. Who will they beshortly? Not our dogs--not our slaves--but--our masters! Our masters!"roared the fierce savage, shaking the broad assegai which he held, untilit quivered like a band of flame in the red firelight. "The sons ofGcaleka will be the slaves of their former slaves--the dogs of theirformer dogs. Not the sons of Gcaleka only, but all the children ofXosa. Not the House of Gcaleka only, but the House of Ngqika. Who isdoing this? The Amanglezi! Who would tread upon the necks of ourchiefs and place the fetters of their lying and hypocritical creeds uponthe limbs of our young men till the latter are turned into slaves anddrunkards? The Amanglezi! Who would stop the mouths of our _amapakati_[Councillors] and drown the collective wisdom of our nation in floods offire-water? The Amanglezi. Are we men--I say? Are we men?"

  A low suppressed roar ran through the circle of fierce and excitablebarbarians as the orator paused. Again sounded the ominous rattle ofassegai hafts. It needed all the self-control of their habituallyself-contained race to restrain them from breaking forth anew into theirfrenzied war-dance. But a wave of the speaker's hand availed to quellthe rising tumult and he continued:

  "This is the `word' of the rulers of the Amanglezi. The time has comewhen the Amaxosa races must be subdued. They are growing too numerous.They are waxing too strong. Their power must be broken. We must beginby breaking up the influence of the chiefs. We must put downchieftainship altogether. Hear ye this, ye sons of Ngqika? Hear youthis, O Matanzima, warrior son of Saudili, the Great Chief of the Houseof Ngqika? Hear you this, O Nteya--_pakati_ of the race of Ngqika?Hear you this, O Nxabahlana, of the House of the Great Chief, you whohave led our bands to war before the very birth of many of the young menI see before me? Hear ye this, Maquades and Mpanhla and Sivulele, andyou, Panganisi and Untiwa, of the House of Seyolo of the House ofHlambi, golden mouthed in council--in the battle-field flames ofconsuming fire? Hear ye this, all ye gathered here before me thisnight--tried warriors, and young men who have never seen war. Thechildren of Xosa are growing too strong. They must be subdued. Thepower of their chiefs must be broken. Such is the word of the rulers ofthe Amanglezi."

  This time, as the orator paused, there was no restraining the fierceexcitement of his hearers. Each warrior named, who had greeted themention of himself with a low, but emphatic "_ha_"--now sprang to hisfeet. No further example was needed. Again, the wild rhythm of thewar-song rose upon the night; again the fierce thunder-roll of the treadof hundreds of feet shook the ground. Again the circle of firelight wasalive with grim, threatening forms, swaying in measured time, to theunearthly chant, to the accompaniment of the shaking of fantasticadornments, to the quivering rattle of assegai hafts. For some minutesthis continued--then when the excitement was almost at its height, amysterious signal was given and the whole wild crowd dropped quicklyinto its listening attitude again.

  "Such is the word of the Amanglezi," went on the speaker. "Now hear theword of Sarili, your father, the Paramount Chief, the father of all thechildren of Xosa. Hear the word of the Great Chief conveyed by themouth of Hlangani, the herald--`Lo, the time has come when we must unitein the strength of brethren. The Amanglezi are urging our very dogs onto provoke us. The Amafengu are located on our borders, to taunt andjeer at our young men--to lure our young women over into their kraalsthat the very name of Gcaleka may be debased and defiled. Not a daypasses that this does not happen. Why do we not revenge this? Why dowe not execute a sudden and fearful vengeance upon these dogs who spitat our name and nation? We dare not. The Amanglezi say: "Your dogs arenow our dogs. Touch them and we shall send armies of soldiers and youwill be eaten up"--But, dare we not? Dare we not? Answer me, all yechildren of the race of Xosa! I, Sarili, your father, call upon you--I,Sarili, your chief. Answer! Show that the war-fire of our free andwarrior race is not dead. It has been smouldering for many years, butit is not dead. It is ready to break forth as the destroying lightningleaps from the black thunder-cloud. It is ready to blaze forth in itsstrength and to consume all within its reach.

  "`Where is my father, Hintza? Where is he who was lured into the whiteman's camp by fair promises and then shot down? Do I not hear hisspirit calling unto me day and night. I cannot sleep, for the spirit ofmy father is crying for vengeance. It is crying day and night from thedepths. Yet, not to me only. Who was Hintza? My father, yet not myfather only. The father of all the sons of Xosa!

  "`Lo, the white Governor has summoned me, your chief, to meet him. Hehas invited me, your chief, with fair promises to visit him at his camp.Shall I go, that I, Sarili, may meet with the same dealing that laidlow my father, Hintza? I will, indeed, go, but it will be with thewhole array of the fighting men of the Amaxosa at my back.

  "`Hear my "word," my children of the House of Nteya, _pakati_ of therace of Ngqika. Hear my "word" as spoken through the mouth of Hlangani,my herald. Receive these oxen as a present from your father to hischildren. Eat them, and when you have eaten and your hearts are strong,stand prepared. Let the war-cry roll through the mountains and valleysof our fair land. Let the thunder of your war-dances shake the earth asthe reeds by the water side quiver beneath the rushing of the stormwind. Let the trumpet tongues of your war-fires gleam from the mountaintops--tongue roaring to tongue--that the Amanglezi may hear it andtremble; for the spirit of Hintza, my father, which has slumbered foryears, is awake again and is crying for vengeance--is crying and cryingaloud that the time has come.'"

  The speaker ceased. A dead silence fell upon his hearers--a weirdsilence upon that tumultuous crowd crouching in eager expectancy in thered firelight. Suddenly, upon the black gloom of the night, far away tothe eastward, there gleamed forth a streak of flame. Then another andanother. A subdued roar ran around the circle. Then, as by magic
, acrimson glare fell upon the serried ranks of expectant listeners,lighting up their fantastic war panoply as with the light of day. Fromthe hill top above the kraal there shot up a great tongue of red flame.It leaped high into the velvety blackness of the heavens. Splitting upinto many a forking flash it roared in the air--the gleaming rayslicking up into a cloud of lurid smoke which blotted out the stars inits reddening folds. The distant war signal of the Gcaleka chieftainwas answered.

  "Ha!" cried Hlangani, in a voice of thunder. "Ha! Now will the heartof your father, Sarili, be glad. Now have ye proved yourselves hischildren indeed, oh, sons of Ngqika! Now have you proved yourselvesmen, for the trumpet tongues of your war-flames are crying aloud--tongueroaring to tongue upon the wings of the night."

  With the quickness of lightning the warriors had again thrown themselvesinto formation, and now worked up to a pitch of uncontrollableexcitement, the unearthly cadence of the war-song rose into a fiendishroar, and the thunder of the demon dance rolled and reverberated amongthe hills, while lighting up the fierce array of grim, frenzied figuresin its brooding glare, the huge beacon, high above on the hilltop,blazed forth sullenly upon the night in all its menacing and destructivesignificance.

  Suddenly, as if by magic, the mad orgy of the savages was suspended.For advancing into their very midst--fearlessly, boldly, contemptuously,even--rode a solitary horseman--a white man, an Englishman.