CHAPTER FIVE.
THE WAR-DANCE AT NTEYA'S KRAAL.
The sun has just touched the western horizon, bathing in a parting floodof red and gold the round spurs of the rolling hills and the stragglingclusters of dome-shaped huts which lie dotted about the valley inirregular order for a couple of miles. There is a continuous hum ofvoices in the air, mingling with the low of cattle, and the whole placeseems to be teeming with human life. Indeed, such is the case; for thiskraal--or rather collection of kraals--is the head centre of Nteya'slocation and the residence of that chief himself.
Each group of huts owns its cattle inclosure, whose dark space, girdledwith a strong thorn palisade, is now filled with the many-coloured formsof its horned denizens. It is milking time, and the metallic squirt ofliquid into the zinc pails rises rhythmic above the deep hum of themonotonous chant of the milkers. Women step forth from the kraal gatesbalancing the full pails on their heads, their ochre-smeared bodiesshining like new flower pots, while their lords, _reim_ in hand, set towork to catch a fresh cow--for among Kafirs milking is essentially man'swork. About the huts squat other groups of natives, men smoking theirqueer shaped, angular pipes, and exchanging _indaba_ [Gossip or news];women also smoking, and busy with their household affairs, whether ofthe culinary or nursery order; round bellied, beady-eyed childrentumbling over each other in their romps, and dogs ever on the prowl topick up a stray bone, or to obtain a surreptitious lick at the interiorof a cooking-pot; and over all the never-ending flow of voices, the deepbass of the men blending with the clearer feminine treble, but allrhythmic and pleasing, for the language and voices of the Bantu racesare alike melodious. The blue reek of wood-smoke rising upon theevening air, mingles with that pungent odour of grease and kineinseparable from every Kafir kraal.
That something unwonted is impending here to-night is manifest. Menwould start suddenly from beside their fellows and gaze expectantly outupon the approaches to the kraal, or now and again the heads of a wholegroup would turn in eager scrutiny of the surrounding _veldt_. Forstrung out upon the hillsides in twos and threes, or in parties of tenor a dozen, some mounted, some afoot, come a great number of Kafirs. Onthey come: those who are mounted kicking their shaggy little ponies intoa headlong gallop; those who are not, starting into a run, leaping intothe air, singing, or now and again venting a shrill and ear-splittingwhistle. From far and near--from every direction converging upon thekraal, on they come. _And they are all armed_.
The excitement in the kraal itself intensifies. All rise to their feetto receive the newcomers, each group of whom is greeted with boisterousshouts of welcome. Snatches of war-songs rise upon the air, and therattle of assegai hafts blends with the barbaric melody. Still, pouringin from all sides, come fresh arrivals, and by the time the sun has shothis last fading ray upon the stirring scene, the kraal cannot havecontained far short of a thousand men.
Near the principal group of huts stands a circular inclosure about fiftyyards in diameter. Above the thorn fence bristle the great branchinghorns of oxen. To this point all eyes are now turned, and the deafeningclamour of voices is hushed in expectation of a new diversion.
A narrow opening is made in the fence and half a dozen Kafirs enter. Anox is turned out. No sooner is the poor beast clear of the fence thanit is suddenly seen to plunge and fall forward in a heap, stabbed to theheart by a broad-bladed assegai. The slaughterer steps back to hislurking position and stands with arm upraised. Quickly another oxfollows upon the first. The weapon, now dimmed and reddened with blood,flashes in the air. The second animal plunges forward dead. A thirdfollows, with like result.
Then, scenting danger, and terrified moreover by the crowd which isgathering outside, the beasts stubbornly refuse to move. They huddletogether with lowered heads, backing away from the opening and emittingthe muffled, moaning noise evoked in cattle by the scent of blood. Invain their would-be drivers shout and goad them with assegais. Movethey will not.
Another opening is made on the opposite side to that of the first.After some trouble two oxen are driven through. They rush out together,one falling by the hand of the lurking slaughterer, the other meeting aspeedy death at the assegais of the spectators.
There still remain upwards of a dozen within the kraal, but of these notone can be induced to pass out. Panic-stricken they huddle togethercloser still, until at last, their terror giving way to a frenzy ofrage, the maddened brutes turn and furiously charge their tormentors.The air is rent with savage bellowings and the clashing of horns. Thedust flies in clouds from the rumbling earth as the frenzied creaturestear round and round the inclosure. Two of the Kafirs, less agile orless fortunate than their fellows, are flung high in the air, fallingwith a lifeless thud among the spectators outside; then, crashingthrough the fence in a body, the panic-stricken bullocks stream forthinto the open, scattering the crowd right and left before the fury oftheir rush.
Then ensues a wild and stirring scene. Their great horns lowered, theinfuriated animals course madly through the village, each beset by acrowd of armed savages whose dark, agile forms, avoiding the fierceimpetus of their charge, may be seen to spring alongside, plying thedeadly assegai. One turns suddenly and heads straight for its pursuers,bellowing hideously. Like magic the crowd parts, there is a whizz ofassegais in the air, and the poor beast crashes earthward, bristlingwith quivering assegai hafts, as a pin cushion with pins. Yelling,whistling like fiends, in their uncontrollable excitement, the savagesdart in and out among the fleeing beasts, and the red firelight gleamsupon assegai points and rolling eyeballs, and the air rings with thefrenzied bellowing of the pursued, and the wild shouts of the pursuers.
But it cannot last long. Soon the mad fury of the chase gives way tothe nauseous accompaniments of a slaughter house on a large scale. Inan incredibly short space of time, each of the bullocks is reduced to adisjointed heap of flesh and bones. Men, staggering beneath huge slabsof quivering meat, make their way to the fires, leaving the dogs tosnarl and quarrel over an abundant repast of steaming offal.
The great joints frizzle and sputter over the red coals. Squattedaround, a hungry gleam in their eyes, the Kafirs impatiently watch eachroasting morsel. Then, hardly waiting until it is warmed through, theydrag the meat from the fire. Assegais are plied, and soon the hugejoints are reduced to strips of half-raw flesh, and the champing ofhundreds of pairs of jaws around each red blaze takes the place of thedeep bass hum of conversation, as the savages throw all their energiesinto the assimilation of their unwonted meal. It is like a cannibalfeast--the smoky flare of the great fires--the mighty slabs of redflesh--the fierce, dark figures seated around--the gleam of weapons inthe firelight.
[The unwonted meal. In former days, meat was very sparingly eaten amongthe Amaxosa races, milk and mealies being the staple articles of diet.When employed on such a scale as above described, it had a curiouslystimulating effect upon a people habitually almost vegetarians. Henceit was looked upon as a preparation for war.]
At length even the very bones are picked clean, and thrown over thefeasters' shoulders to the dogs. Then voices are raised and once morethe kraal becomes a scene of wild and excited stir. Roused by a copiousindulgence in an unwonted stimulant, the Kafirs leap to their feet.Weapons are brandished, and the firelight glows upon assegai points androlling eyeballs. A wild war-song rises upon the air; then falling intocircular formation, the whole gathering of excited warriors join in,beating time with their feet--clashing the hefts of their weaponstogether. The weird rhythm is led off in a high, wailing key by a kindof _choragus_, then taken up by the rest, rising louder and louder, andthe thunder of hundreds of pairs of feet keeping regular time, make thevery earth itself tremble, and the quivering rattle of assegai hafts isechoed back from the dark, brooding hills, and the volume of the fierceand threatening song, with its final chorus of "Ha--ha--ha!" becomes asthe mad roaring of a legion of wild beasts, ravaging for blood. Workedup to a degree of incontrollable excitement, the savages foam at t
helips and their eyeballs seem to start from the sockets, as turning toeach other they go through the pantomime of encountering and slaying animaginary foe; and even in the background a number of women have formedup behind the dancing warriors and with more than all the barbarity ofthe latter are playing at beating out the brains of the wounded withknob-kerries. The roar and rattle of the hideous performance goes up tothe heavens, cleaving the solemn silence of the sweet African night.The leaping, bounding, perspiring shapes, look truly devilish in the redfirelight. The excitement of the fierce savages seems to have reached apitch little short of downright frenzy. Yet it shows no signs ofabating. _For they have eaten meat_.
'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War Page 5