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

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

  THE PARAMOUNT CHIEF.

  The spectacle which met Eustace's eyes, on emerging from the dark andstuffy hut, struck him as grand and stirring in the extreme.

  He saw around him an open clearing, a large natural amphitheatre,surrounded by dense forest on three sides, the fourth being constitutedby a line of jagged rocks more or less bush-grown. Groups of hastilyconstructed huts, in shape and material resembling huge beehives, stoodaround in an irregular circle, leaving a large open space in the centre.And into this space was defiling a great mass of armed warriors.

  On they came, marching in columns, the air vibrating to the roar oftheir terrible war-song. On they came, a wild and fierce array, intheir fantastic war dresses--the glint of their assegai blades dancingin the sunlight like the ripples of a shining sea. They were marchinground the great open space.

  Into this muster of fierce and excited savages Eustace found himselfguided. If the demeanour of his guards had hitherto been good-humouredand friendly, it was so no longer. Those immediately about him keptturning to brandish their assegais in his face as they marched, goingthrough the pantomime of carving him to pieces, uttering taunts andthreats of the most blood-curdling character.

  "_Hau umlungu_! Are you cold? The fire will soon be ready. Then youwill be warm--warm, ha-ha!" they sang, rubbing their hands and spreadingthem out before an imaginary blaze. "The wood is hot--ah-ah! It burns!ah-ah!" And then they would skip first on one foot, then on another, asif trying to avoid a carpeting of glowing coals. Or, "The fighting menof the Ama-Gcaleka are thirsty. But they will soon have to drink.Blood--plenty of blood--the drink of warriors--the drink that shall maketheir hearts strong. _Hau_!" And at this they would feign to stab theprisoner--bringing their blades near enough to have frightened a nervousman out of his wits. Or again: "The ants are hungry. The black antsare swarming for their food. It shall soon be theirs. Ha-ha! Theywant it alive. They want eyes. They want brains. They want blood!Ha-ha! The black, ants are swarming for their food." Here the savageswould squirm and wriggle as in imitation of a man being devoured aliveby insects. For this was an allusion to a highly popular barbarityamong these children of Nature; one not unfrequently meted out to thosewho had incurred the envy or hostility of the chiefs and witch-doctors,and had been "smelt out" accordingly.

  When all were gathered within the open space the war chant ceased. Thegreat muster of excited barbarians had formed up into crescent rank andnow dropped into a squatting posture. To the open side of this,escorted by about fifty warriors, the prisoner was marched.

  As he passed through that sea of fierce eyes, all turned on him with abloodthirsty stare, between that great crowd of savage forms, squattedaround like tigers on the crouch, Eustace felt his pulses quicken. Thecritical time had arrived.

  Even at that perilous moment he took in the place and its surroundings.He noted the faces of women, behind the dark serried ranks of thewarriors, peering eagerly at him. There were, however, but few, andthey wore a crushed and anxious look. He noted, further, that the hutswere of recent and hasty construction, and that the cattle inclosure wassmall and scantily stocked. All this pointed to the conclusion that thekraal was a temporary one. The bulk of the women and cattle would bestowed away in some more secure hiding place. Only for a moment,however, was he thus suffered to look around. His thoughts were quicklydiverted to a far more important consideration.

  His guards had fallen back a few paces, leaving him standing alone. Infront, seated on the ground, was a group consisting of a dozen orfourteen persons, all eyeing him narrowly. These he judged to be theprincipal chiefs and councillors of the Gcaleka tribe. One glance atthe most prominent figure among these convinced him that he stood in thepresence of the Paramount Chief himself.

  Kreli, or Sarili, as the name is accurately rendered--the former being,however, that by which he was popularly, indeed, historically known--thechief of the Gcalekas and the suzerain head of all the Xosa race, was atthat time about sixty years of age. Tall and erect in person, dignifiedin demeanour, despising gimcrack and chimney-pot hat counterfeits ofcivilisation, he was every inch a fine specimen of the savage ruler.His shrewd, massive countenance showed character in every line, and theglance of his keen eyes was straight and manly. His beard, thick andbushy for a Kafir, was only just beginning to show a frost of grey amongits jetty blackness. Such was the man before whom Eustace Milne stood--so to speak--arraigned.

  For some moments the august group sat eyeing the prisoner in silence.Eustace, keenly observing those dark impassive faces, realised thatthere was not one there which was known to him. He had seen Hlangani'sgigantic form, resplendent or the reverse in the most wildly elaboratewar costume, seated among the fighting men. Here in the group beforehim all were strangers.

  While some of his chiefs were arrayed in costumes of plumes and skinsand cow-tails exceeding fantastic, Kreli himself had eschewed allmartial adornments. An ample red blanket swathed his person, and abovehis left elbow he wore the thick ivory armlet affected by most Kafirs ofrank or position. But there was that about his personality which markedhim out from the rest. Eustace, gazing upon the arbiter of his fate,realised that the latter looked every inch a chief--every inch a man.

  "Why do you come here making war upon me and my people, _umlungu_!" saidthe chief, shortly.

  "There is war between our races," answered Eustace. "It is every man'sduty to fight for his nation, at the command of his chief."

  "Who ordered you to take up arms against us? You are not a soldier, norare you a policeman."

  This was hard hitting. Eustace felt a trifle nonplussed. But heconceived that boldness would best answer his purpose.

  "There were not enough regular troops or Police to stand against themight of the Gcaleka nation," he replied. "Those of us who ownedproperty were obliged to take up arms in defence of our property."

  "Was your property on the eastern side of the Kei? Was it on this sideof the Bashi?" pursued the chief. "When a man's house is threateneddoes he go four days' journey away from it in order to protect it?" Ahum of assent--a sort of native equivalent for "Hear, hear," went upfrom the councillors at this hard hit.

  "Do I understand the chief to mean that we whose property lay along theborder were to wait quietly for the Gcaleka forces to come and `eat usup' while we were unprepared?" said Eustace quietly. "That because wewere not on your side of the Kei we were to do nothing to defendourselves; to wait until your people should cross the river?"

  "Does a dog yelp out before he is kicked?"

  "Does it help him, anyway, to do so after?" replied the prisoner, with aslight smile over this new rendering of an old proverb. "But the chiefcannot be talking seriously. He is joking."

  "_Hau_!" burst forth the _amapakati_ in mingled surprise and resentment.

  "You are a bold man, _umlungu_," said Kreli, frowning. "Do you knowthat I hold your life in my hand?"

  This was coming to the point with a vengeance. Eustace realised that,like Agag, he must "walk delicately." It would not do to take up adefiant attitude. On the other hand to show any sign of trepidationmight prove equally disastrous. He elected to steer as near as possiblea middle course.

  "That is so," he replied. "I am as anxious to live as most people. Butthis is war-time. When a man goes to war he does not lock up his lifebehind him at home. What would the Great Chief gain by my death?"

  "His people's pleasure," replied Kreli, with sombre significance, wavinga hand in the direction of the armed crowd squatted around. Thenturning, he began conferring in a low tone with his councillors, withthe result that presently one of the latter directed that the prisonershould be removed altogether beyond earshot.

  Eustace accordingly was marched a sufficient distance from the debatinggroup, a move which brought him close to the ranks of armed warriors.Many of the latter amused themselves by going through a wordless, buthighly suggestive performance illustrative of the fate the
y hopedawaited him. One would imitate the cutting out of a tongue, another thegouging of an eye, etc., all grinning the while in high glee.

  Even Eustace, strong-nerved as he was, began to feel the horrible strainof the suspense. He glanced towards the group of chiefs and _amapakati_much as the prisoner in the dock might eye the door of the room wherethe jury was locked up. He began talking to his guards by way ofdiversion.

  "Who is that with Hlangani, who has just joined the _amapakati_?" heasked.

  "Ukiva."

  He looked with new interest at the warrior in question, in whose name herecognised that of a fighting chief of some note, and who was reportedto have commanded the enemy in the fight with Shelton's patrol.

  "And the man half standing up--who is he?"

  "Sigcau--the great chief's first son. _Whau umlungu_!" broke off hisinformant. "You speak with our tongue even as one of ourselves. Yetthe chiefs and principal men of the House of Gcaleka are unknown lo youby sight."

  "Those of the House of Gaika are not. Tell me. Which is Botmane?"

  "Botmane? Lo!" replied several of the Kafirs emphatically. "He next tothe Great Chief."

  Eustace looked with keen interest upon the man pointed out--an old manwith a grey head, and a shrewd, but kindly natured face. He was Kreli'sprincipal councillor and at that time was reported to be somewhat indisfavour by reason of having been strenuously opposed to a war with thewhites. He was well-known to Eustace by name; in fact the latter hadonce, to his considerable chagrin, just missed meeting him on theoccasion of a political visit he had made to the Komgha some monthspreviously.

  Meanwhile the prisoner might well feel anxious as he watched the groupof _amapakati_, for they were debating nothing less than the questionwhether he should be put to death or not.

  The chief Kreli was by no means a cruel or bloodthirsty ruler--and hewas a tolerably astute one. It is far from certain that he himself hadever been in favour of making war at that time. He was too shrewd andfar-seeing to imagine that success could possibly attend his arms in thelong run, but on the other hand he bore a deep and latent grudge againstthe English by reason of the death at their hands of his father, Hintza,who had been made a prisoner not altogether under circumstances of anunimpeachable kind and shot while attempting to escape. This hadoccurred forty years earlier.

  So when the young bloods of the tribe, thirsting for martialdistinction, had forced the hands of their elders and rulers, byprovoking a series of frictions with their Fingo neighbours then underBritish protection, the old chief had exercised no very strenuousopposition to their indulging themselves to the top of their bent.

  Having, however, given way to the war spirit, he left no stone unturnedto insure success. Runners were sent to the Gaika and Hlambi tribeslocated in British Kaffraria, viz.: within the Colonial limits--butalthough plenty of young men owning those nationalities drifted acrossthe Kei in squads to join his standard, the bulk of the tribesthemselves were slow to respond to his appeal. Had it been otherwise,the position of the border people would have been more serious. Withthe enemy at their very doors they would have found plenty of occupationat home, instead of being free to pour their forces into the Transkei.Things, however, had turned out differently. The Gcaleka country hadbeen ravaged from end to end, and the old chief was at that momentpractically a fugitive. It may readily be imagined, therefore, that hewas in rather an ugly humour, and not likely to show much clemencytowards the white prisoner in his power.

  There was another consideration which militated against the saidclemency. Although he had made no allusion to it, it must not besupposed that Kreli was all this time unaware of the identity of hisprisoner. The latter's friendship with many of the Gaika rulers was arank offence in the eyes of the Paramount Chief just then. Had he notsent his "word" to those chiefs, and had not his "word" fallen on earsdull of hearing? Instead of rising at his call they were yet "sittingstill." What more likely than that white men, such as this one, wereinfluencing them--were advising them contrary to their allegiance tohim, the Paramount Chief?

  Some of the _amapakati_ were in favour of sparing the prisoner atpresent. He might be of use to them hereafter. He seemed not like anordinary white man. He spoke their tongue and understood their customs.There was no knowing but that he might eventually serve them materiallywith his own people. Others, again, thought they might just as wellgive him over to the people to be put to death in their own way. Itwould please the fighting men--many of whom had lost fathers andbrothers at the hands of the whites. Yet again, one or two moreoriginated another proposal. They had heard something of this white manbeing a bit of a wizard--that he owned a "charm" which had turned theblade of a broad assegai from his heart. Let him be handed over toNgcenika, the great witch-doctress. Let her try whether his "charm" wastoo strong for her.

  This idea met with something like universal acceptance. Shrewd andintelligent as they are in ordinary matters, Kafirs are given to themost childish superstitions, and, in adopting the above suggestion,these credulous savages really did look forward to witnessing somethingnovel in the way of a competition in magic. In their minds theexperiment was likely to prove a thing worth seeing.

  "_Ewa! Ewa_!" ["Yes--yes"] they cried emphatically. "Let Ngcenika becalled."

  "So be it," assented Kreli. "Let the witch-doctress be sought."

  But almost before the words had left his lips--there pealed forth awild, unearthly shriek--a frightful yell--emanating from the line ofrugged and bush-grown rocks which shut in one side of the clearing.Chiefs, _amapakati_, warriors--all turned towards the sound, an anxiousexpression upon every face--upon many, one of apprehension, of fear.Even to the white prisoner the interruption was sufficiently startling.And then there bounded forth into their midst a hideous, a trulyappalling apparition.