Adventures in Swaziland Part 9

It was almost dark before Tuys decided the "great induna" had waited long enough to humble his pride. Then he went out; and, of course, I followed him. No sooner was he framed in the light of the doorway than the royal salute was repeated. He walked slowly to the gate. There was the chief patiently waiting for him, his men drawn up behind him, like so many shapes of darkness barely visible in the night.

"Nkoos, White King of Swaziland," the induna began, "I am the messenger of King Buno. He sends a message to you."

Then he stopped, awaiting permission to go on.

"Speak!" ordered Tuys.

"Buno, our king, is sick unto death," the chief said, with dramatic gestures, "He desires that his white brother come to him. By me he sends word that your life is safe and that he must see you before he dies!"

Tuys knew that Buno's word was the word of a king and could be relied upon. He waited only a moment, therefore, and then said tersely:

"I will come. To-morrow's sun will see us on our way." With that he made the gesture of dismissal. The impi again gave the royal salute and a second later had departed, swallowed up by the night.

"Get ready, lad," Tuys directed as soon as we entered the house. "At sunrise to-morrow we start. We travel fast and light, for I must reach Lebombo before Buno dies!"

I was overjoyed, but immediately my joy was tempered by the thought that my mother would have to know and might object. Tuys, however, settled that question for me. He went to her and told her that he would be responsible for my return safe and sound. Tuys always had a way with him, and my mother sent for me to tell me that I had her permission to go.

"However, you must obey Oom Tuys better this time," she warned me. "I know that you were disobedient on the trip last year and ran the risk of being killed. You may go only if you promise me that you will obey Tuys."

Naturally, I promised. I would have done more than that if it had been necessary, for I was wild to accompany Tuys this time. With Buno possibly dying there would be wonderful things to see, I felt sure. I was not disappointed, as it turned out.

At dawn the next morning we were on our way. We had about the same equipment as before, except that I rode a bigger and faster horse and four speedy mules were harnessed to our light wagon, instead of six.

Sibijaan drove the mules and swung his sjambok without mercy. For once he was not called down for beating the mules.

As Tuys predicted, we traveled fast. The induna and his impi had left Rietvlei during the night and started back toward Lebombo. We caught up with them during the afternoon. They were hitting a smart pace, with the induna in the lead. His plumes appeared to mark the cadence of their steps and they must have been making better than six miles an hour.

"Is the way prepared for us?" Tuys asked the chief. "Does the king expect me? Are his men waiting for me?"

"Nkoos, the king waits!" the induna replied most impressively. "He bade me to tell you to hurry. The king dies, and must see you before he goes to the caves."

This seemed to satisfy Oom Tuys, so that he sent home the spurs and we all broke into a new burst of speed. The road was rough, and I would look back now and then to see Sibijaan swaying to and fro as he jerked up the mules and cut them with his sjambok. Tuys's boys, or servants, with the exception of his bodyguard, ran beside the wagon, holding to it to help them over the ground.

Tuys seemed possessed with the idea that Buno was really dying, and our trip became a race with death. It was very exciting. Down through the Valley of Heaven we ran, past kraals from which the Swazis tumbled out to gaze in wonder at us. Several indunas, knowing that Tuys was due on his monthly trip, tried to halt us to offer tswala or food, but Tuys would throw them a word and press on. This was on our second day's trek. On the first night we had stopped shortly before midnight, and then only to give our horses and mules some much needed rest.

By the end of the second day both animals and men were pretty well exhausted, so we camped a little earlier. We were up at dawn, and Tuys estimated that we would reach Lebombo by noon. During that last night's camp a small band of witch-doctors stopped to talk to Tuys. It seemed that they had received word that Buno was dying and were going to Lebombo to be in at his death, so to speak.

"Vultures! Carrion-eaters! That's what they are," Tuys remarked to me with disgust. "They are going to Lebombo so that they will be there to bury the king, if he dies. I wish Buno would fool them!"

As before, we pa.s.sed Queen Labotsibeni's kraal at Zombode. This time there were only women and children there. All the indunas and warriors had gone on to Lebombo. Tuys asked a curious woman how this was.

"Yesterday, O Nkoos, the command came from the king that all warriors should go to Lebombo," she explained. "None but messengers remain, and these are now going on to tell that you are near." While she spoke we saw a small band of warriors swiftly running up the trail ahead. In a moment they had pa.s.sed the turn of the road and were gone. In the brief glimpse I had of them I saw that they wore the broad white band that denotes a "king's messenger" in Swaziland.

We pushed on. Tired as our animals were, we made good time, though not good enough to catch up with the messengers.

As our party came round the bend into sight of Lebombo, we found three indunas and more than a thousand warriors of the king's own impis waiting for us. They were lined up on either side of the road and gave us the royal salute as we pa.s.sed between them. We did not halt, and these splendid warriors formed behind us and trotted along as our escort. It was a wonderful sight. Their nodding plumes and bizarre shields, with here and there the flash of sunlight from an a.s.segai, made a stirring picture.

While yet some distance away I could see that there was an army gathered about the royal kraal. There seemed to be tens of thousands of warriors, all more or less in formation. When we came closer, a number of indunas ran forward to meet us and Umzulek, a brother of Buno, led us to the king. On each side of the roadway where the infamous shooting match had taken place the year before were solid lines of warriors, three and even four deep. As we pa.s.sed up the line, impi after impi gave the royal salute.

Except for the exclamations of the warriors and the stamp of their feet, there was a strange silence. There seemed to be an air of foreboding, as though all were waiting for something they dreaded.

We dismounted at the king's hut. Tuys motioned me to come with him, and we stooped and went in. For a moment we could see nothing in the dim light. My first impression was that the hut was filled with people and was stifling hot.

Then I saw the king stretched out on some mats, with his head propped up on a small block of wood. He was very changed. His great body was gaunt, his face haggard, and his eyes shone with the fire of fever.

Buno gazed fixedly at Tuys for a moment and then weakly raised his hands in salute.

"Welcome, Nkoos, white brother of the king," he said in a thin old voice. "Welcome, white king of my people! I knew you would come. You are a true friend!"

Even in the dim light I could see that Tuys was moved. He fumbled his great beard and finally began to speak.

"Come closer, Nkoos," came the royal command. "Send my indunas away. I would speak with you alone."

Tuys motioned to the indunas to go, and they filed out. Then Buno saw me:

"Welcome, little induna," he said, his voice seeming even fainter.

"Welcome, Mzaan Bakoor! You are my friend, too. You must remain with Oom Tuys and me, for I have a request to make that you shall inherit from him when he is gone."

Tuys and I sat close to Buno, and then I saw how little life was left in his once powerful body.

"Gin! Give me gin," Buno pleaded. "I must have strength to talk. Give me gin!"

Tuys poured out a large drink of the fiery liquid and the king choked it down. He gasped for a moment, and then went on in a stronger voice.

"Nkoos, my white brother," Buno said. "You are not of our people and therefore cannot die with me. You cannot have the joy and honor of joining the king in death. For I know now that I am dying. Perhaps I shall not live to see another sunrise."

I felt that he was right. One so weak and emaciated could not live long. Undoubtedly Buno was dying.

"But you can serve my people when I am dead," he continued, "by continuing to be their true friend, just as you have been mine. I would have you make a paper which would tell all the world that you are the guardian of the people of Swaziland. When you die you can make Mzaan Bakoor the guardian. He will be a man then and will care for my poor people. Swaziland has many enemies--the Boers, the English, the Zulus, and others. All desire our land. You can prevent them from taking it. Will you be their guardian when I am gone?"

Tuys met the feverish eyes of the dying monarch and then his deep voice rumbled. I remember noting how different it was from that of Buno.

"O King, you have spoken!" he answered. "Your word is my command. So long as I live I shall guard your people and shall protect them from their enemies!"

"It is well, Nkoos," Buno said, his voice scarce above a whisper. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and rested. In a little while he asked for more gin, and then asked Tuys to call the indunas. They filed it and stood on each side of the rec.u.mbent king. There were ten or twelve of them, all the greatest chiefs in Swaziland. Umzulek, I remember, stood at Buno's feet.

After a brief silence Buno spoke.

"Indunas, I am dying," he said, his voice again quite clear. "Soon I shall leave you, never to return. I go to the caves from which none come back. Until now I have feared to die. I feared that enemies might bring evil days to Swaziland. Now, however, I go in peace. Oom Tuys, my friend, has promised to be the friend and guardian of our country when I am no longer here. He shall protect Swaziland from the whites and Zulus so long as he lives, and when he is gone, Mzaan Bakoor, who will be a man then and powerful, will act in his place. O indunas, you must look to my white brother for help when Swaziland needs it. This is my command!"

Then he stopped. When Buno said "This is my command!" his illness seemed to drop away from him and he became the great king again. The indunas raised their hands in token of acceptance of Buno's command and then all together said, "The king's word is law!"

For some reason or other I glanced at Umzulek. He made the same motion as the others, but there was an intangible suggestion of revolt in his acceptance. I had a sudden feeling that he would make trouble after Buno was gone.

"Once again I shall see my impis," said Buno, his voice again weakening. "Each day may be the last, but each day my warriors must salute their king once more!"

Next came an extraordinary exhibition. All but four of the indunas went out. Those remaining lifted Buno up--and I noted that they did it with ease--and half-carried, half-dragged him through the low opening of the hut to the clean air outside. There they laid him on a couch, facing the thousands of warriors.

The whole affair seemed rehea.r.s.ed. No sooner was the king settled, his eyes sweeping the serried ranks of the impis, than an imposing induna stepped out and led them in the royal salute. Three times they gave it, with the sound of thunder in the mountains, and at each crash I could see a faint smile soften Buno's harsh features. He had lived a king and like a king would die!