I am bound to say that during the four or five days that it took us to reach Dingaan's kraal they behaved very well to us. With Kambula and his officers, all of them good fellows in their way, I had many conversations, and from them learned much as to the state and customs of the Zulus. Also the peoples of the districts through which we passed flocked round us at every outspan, for most of them had never seen a white man before, and in return for a few beads brought us all the food that we required. Indeed, the beads, or their equivalents, were nothing but a present, since, by the king's command, they must satisfy our wants. This they did very thoroughly. For instance, when on the last day's trek, some of our oxen gave out, numbers of Zulus were inspanned in place of them, and by their help the wagons were dragged to the great kraal, Umgungundhlovu.
Here an outspan place was assigned to us near to the house, or rather the huts, of a certain missionary of the name of Owen, who with great courage had ventured into this country. We were received with the utmost kindness by him and his wife and household, and it is impossible for me to say what pleasure I found, after all my journeyings, in meeting an educated man of my own race.
Near to our camp was a stone-covered koppie, where, on the morning after our arrival, I saw six or eight men executed in a way that I will not describe. Their crime, according to Mr. Owen, was that they had bewitched some of the king's oxen.
While I was recovering from this dreadful spectacle, which, fortunately, Marie did not witness, the captain Kambula arrived, saying that Dingaan wished to see me. So taking with me the Hottentot Hans and two of the Zulus whom I had hired at Delagoa Bay--for the royal orders were that none of the other white people were to come, I was led through the fence of the vast town in which stood two thousand huts--the "multitude of houses" as the Zulus called it--and across a vast open space in the middle.
On the farther side of this space, where, before long, I was fated to witness a very tragic scene, I entered a kind of labyrinth. This was called "siklohlo", and had high fences with numerous turns, so that it was impossible to see where one was going or to find the way in or out.
Ultimately, however, I reached a great hut named "intunkulu", a word that means the "house of houses," or the abode of the king, in front of which I saw a fat man seated on a stool, naked except for the moocha about his middle and necklaces and armlets of blue beads. Two warriors held their broad shields over his head to protect him from the sun.
Otherwise he was alone, although I felt sure that the numerous passages around him were filled with guards, for I could hear them moving.
On entering this place Kambula and his companions flung themselves upon their faces and began to sing praises of which the king took no notice.
Presently he looked up, and appearing to observe me for the first time asked:
"Who is that white boy?"
Then Kambula rose and said:
"O king, this is the Son of George, whom you commanded me to capture. I have taken him and the Amaboona" (that is, the Boers), "his companions, and brought them all to you, O king."
"I remember," said Dingaan. "The big Boer who was here, and whom Tambusa"--he was one of Dingaan's captains--"let go against my will, said that be was a terrible man who should be killed before he worked great harm to my people. Why did you not kill him, Kambula, although it is true he does not look very terrible?"
"Because the king's word was that I should bring him to the king living," answered Kambula. Then he added cheerfully: "Still, if the king wishes it, I can kill him at once."
"I don't know," said Dingaan doubtfully; "perhaps he can mend guns."
Next, after reflecting a while, he bade a shield-holder to fetch someone, I could not hear whom.
"Doubtless," thought I to myself, "it is the executioner," and at that thought a kind of mad rage seized me. Why should my life be ended thus in youth to satisfy the whim of a savage? And if it must be so, why should I go alone?
In the inside pocket of my ragged coat I had a small loaded pistol with two barrels. One of those barrels would kill Dingaan--at five paces I could not miss that bulk--and the other would blow out my brains, for I was not minded to have my neck twisted or to be beaten to death with sticks. Well, if it was to be done, I had better do it at once.
Already my hand was creeping towards the pocket when a new idea, or rather two ideas, struck me.
The first was that if I shot Dingaan the Zulus would probably massacre Marie and the others--Marie, whose sweet face I should never see again.
The second was that while there is life there is hope. Perhaps, after all, he had not sent for an executioner, but for someone else. I would wait. A few minutes more of existence were worth the having.
The shield-bearer returned, emerging from one of the narrow, reed-hedged passages, and after him came no executioner, but a young white man, who, as I knew from the look of him, was English. He saluted the king by taking off his hat, which I remember was stuck round with black ostrich feathers, then stared at me.
"O Tho-maas" (that is how he pronounced "Thomas"), said Dingaan, "tell me if this boy is one of your brothers, or is he a Boer?"
"The king wants to know if you are Dutch or British," said the white lad, speaking in English.
"As British as you are," I answered. "I was born in England, and come from the Cape."
"That may be lucky for you," he said, "because the old witch-doctor, Zikali, has told him that he must not kill any English. What is your name? Mine is Thomas Halstead. I am interpreter here."
"Allan Quatermain. Tell Zikali, whoever he may be, that if he sticks to his advice I will give him a good present."
"What are you talking about?" asked Dingaan suspiciously.
"He says he is English, no Boer, O king; that he was born across the Black Water, and that he comes from the country out of which all the Boers have trekked."
At this intelligence Dingaan pricked up his ears.
