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Page 78
On arriving before the nearest gate of Loo we found one of our
regiments watching it in obedience to orders received from Ignosi. The
other regiments were in the same way guarding the different exits to
the town. The officer in command of this regiment saluted Ignosi as
king, and informed him that Twala's army had taken refuge in the town,
whither Twala himself had also escaped, but he thought that they were
thoroughly demoralised, and would surrender. Thereupon Ignosi, after
taking counsel with us, sent forward heralds to each gate ordering the
defenders to open, and promising on his royal word life and
forgiveness to every soldier who laid down his arms, but saying that
if they did not do so before nightfall he would certainly burn the
town and all within its gates. This message was not without its
effect. Half an hour later, amid the shouts and cheers of the
Buffaloes, the bridge was dropped across the fosse, and the gates upon
the further side were flung open.
Taking due precautions against treachery, we marched on into the town.
All along the roadways stood thousands of dejected warriors, their
heads drooping, and their shields and spears at their feet, who,
headed by their officers, saluted Ignosi as king as he passed. On we
marched, straight to Twala's kraal. When we reached the great space,
where a day or two previously we had seen the review and the witch
hunt, we found it deserted. No, not quite deserted, for there, on the
further side, in front of his hut, sat Twala himself, with but one
attendant--Gagool.
It was a melancholy sight to see him seated, his battle-axe and shield
by his side, his chin upon his mailed breast, with but one old crone
for companion, and notwithstanding his crimes and misdeeds, a pang of
compassion shot through me as I looked upon Twala thus "fallen from
his high estate." Not a soldier of all his armies, not a courtier out
of the hundreds who had cringed round him, not even a solitary wife,
remained to share his fate or halve the bitterness of his fall. Poor
savage! he was learning the lesson which Fate teaches to most of us
who live long enough, that the eyes of mankind are blind to the
discredited, and that he who is defenceless and fallen finds few
friends and little mercy. Nor, indeed, in this case did he deserve
any.
Filing through the kraal gate, we marched across the open space to
where the ex-king sat. When within about fifty yards of him the
regiment was halted, and accompanied only by a small guard we advanced
towards him, Gagool reviling us bitterly as we came. As we drew near,
Twala, for the first time, lifted his plumed head, and fixed his one
eye, which seemed to flash with suppressed fury almost as brightly as
the great diamond bound round his forehead, upon his successful
rival--Ignosi.
"Hail, O king!" he said, with bitter mockery; "thou who hast eaten of
my bread, and now by the aid of the white man's magic hast seduced my
regiments and defeated mine army, hail! What fate hast thou in store
for me, O king?"
"The fate thou gavest to my father, whose throne thou hast sat on
these many years!" was the stern answer.
"It is good. I will show thee how to die, that thou mayest remember it
against thine own time. See, the sun sinks in blood," and he pointed
with his battle-axe towards the setting orb; "it is well that my sun
should go down in its company. And now, O king! I am ready to die, but
I crave the boon of the Kukuana royal House[*] to die fighting. Thou
canst refuse it, or even those cowards who fled to-day will hold thee
shamed."
[*] It is a law amongst the Kukuanas that no man of the direct royal
blood can be put to death, unless by his own consent, which is,
however, never refused. He is allowed to choose a succession of
antagonists, to be approved by the king, with whom he fights, till
one of them kills him.--A.Q.
"It is granted. Choose--with whom wilt thou fight? Myself I cannot
fight with thee, for the king fights not except in war."
Twala's sombre eye ran up and down our ranks, and I felt, as for a
moment it rested on myself, that the position had developed a new
horror. What if he chose to begin by fighting /me/? What chance should
I have against a desperate savage six feet five high, and broad in
proportion? I might as well commit suicide at once. Hastily I made up
my mind to decline the combat, even if I were hooted out of
Kukuanaland as a consequence. It is, I think, better to be hooted than
to be quartered with a battle-axe.
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