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<h2> CHAPTER VII A SLAUGHTER GRIM AND GREAT </h2>
<p>Then there was a pause, and we stood there in the chilly silent darkness
waiting till the moment came to start. It was, perhaps, the most trying
time of all—that slow, slow quarter of an hour. The minutes seemed
to drag along with leaden feet, and the quiet, the solemn hush, that
brooded over all—big, as it were, with a coming fate, was most
oppressive to the spirits. I once remember having to get up before dawn to
see a man hanged, and I then went through a very similar set of
sensations, only in the present instance my feelings were animated by that
more vivid and personal element which naturally appertains rather to the
person to be operated on than to the most sympathetic spectator. The
solemn faces of the men, well aware that the short passage of an hour
would mean for some, and perhaps all of them, the last great passage to
the unknown or oblivion; the bated whispers in which they spoke; even Sir
Henry's continuous and thoughtful examination of his woodcutter's axe and
the fidgety way in which Good kept polishing his eyeglass, all told the
same tale of nerves stretched pretty nigh to breaking-point. Only
Umslopogaas, leaning as usual upon Inkosi-kaas and taking an occasional
pinch of snuff, was to all appearance perfectly and completely unmoved.
Nothing could touch his iron nerves.</p>
<p>The moon went down. For a long while she had been getting nearer and
nearer to the horizon. Now she finally sank and left the world in darkness
save for a faint grey tinge in the eastern sky that palely heralded the
dawn.</p>
<p>Mr Mackenzie stood, watch in hand, his wife clinging to his arm and
striving to stifle her sobs.</p>
<p>'Twenty minutes to four,' he said, 'it ought to be light enough to attack
at twenty minutes past four. Captain Good had better be moving, he will
want three or four minutes' start.'</p>
<p>Good gave one final polish to his eyeglass, nodded to us in a jocular sort
of way—which I could not help feeling it must have cost him
something to muster up—and, ever polite, took off his steel-lined
cap to Mrs Mackenzie and started for his position at the head of the
kraal, to reach which he had to make a detour by some paths known to the
natives.</p>
<p>Just then one of the boys came in and reported that everybody in the Masai
camp, with the exception of the two sentries who were walking up and down
in front of the respective entrances, appeared to be fast asleep. Then the
rest of us took the road. First came the guide, then Sir Henry,
Umslopogaas, the Wakwafi Askari, and Mr Mackenzie's two mission natives
armed with long spears and shields. I followed immediately after with
Alphonse and five natives all armed with guns, and Mr Mackenzie brought up
the rear with the six remaining natives.</p>
<p>The cattle kraal where the Masai were camped lay at the foot of the hill
on which the house stood, or, roughly speaking, about eight hundred yards
from the Mission buildings. The first five hundred yards of this distance
we traversed quietly indeed, but at a good pace; after that we crept
forward as silently as a leopard on his prey, gliding like ghosts from
bush to bush and stone to stone. When I had gone a little way I chanced to
look behind me, and saw the redoubtable Alphonse staggering along with
white face and trembling knees, and his rifle, which was at full cock,
pointed directly at the small of my back. Having halted and carefully put
the rifle at 'safety', we started again, and all went well till we were
within one hundred yards or so of the kraal, when his teeth began to
chatter in the most aggressive way.</p>
<p>'If you don't stop that I will kill you,' I whispered savagely; for the
idea of having all our lives sacrificed to a tooth-chattering cook was too
much for me. I began to fear that he would betray us, and heartily wished
we had left him behind.</p>
<p>'But, monsieur, I cannot help it,' he answered, 'it is the cold.'</p>
<p>Here was a dilemma, but fortunately I devised a plan. In the pocket of the
coat I had on was a small piece of dirty rag that I had used some time
before to clean a gun with. 'Put this in your mouth,' I whispered again,
giving him the rag; 'and if I hear another sound you are a dead man.' I
knew that that would stifle the clatter of his teeth. I must have looked
as if I meant what I said, for he instantly obeyed me, and continued his
journey in silence.</p>
<p>Then we crept on again.</p>
<p>At last we were within fifty yards of the kraal. Between us and it was an
open space of sloping grass with only one mimosa bush and a couple of
tussocks of a sort of thistle for cover. We were still hidden in fairly
thick bush. It was beginning to grow light. The stars had paled and a
sickly gleam played about the east and was reflected on the earth. We
could see the outline of the kraal clearly enough, and could also make out
the faint glimmer of the dying embers of the Masai camp-fires. We halted
and watched, for the sentry we knew was posted at the opening. Presently
he appeared, a fine tall fellow, walking idly up and down within five
paces of the thorn-stopped entrance. We had hoped to catch him napping,
but it was not to be. He seemed particularly wide awake. If we could not
kill that man, and kill him silently, we were lost. There we crouched and
watched him. Presently Umslopogaas, who was a few paces ahead of me,
turned and made a sign, and next second I saw him go down on his stomach
like a snake, and, taking an opportunity when the sentry's head was
turned, begin to work his way through the grass without a sound.</p>
<p>The unconscious sentry commenced to hum a little tune, and Umslopogaas
crept on. He reached the shelter of the mimosa bush unperceived and there
waited. Still the sentry walked up and down. Presently he turned and
looked over the wall into the camp. Instantly the human snake who was
stalking him glided on ten yards and got behind one of the tussocks of the
thistle-like plant, reaching it as the Elmoran turned again. As he did so
his eye fell upon this patch of thistles, and it seemed to strike him that
it did not look quite right. He advanced a pace towards it—halted,
yawned, stooped down, picked up a little pebble and threw it at it. It hit
Umslopogaas upon the head, luckily not upon the armour shirt. Had it done
so the clink would have betrayed us. Luckily, too, the shirt was browned
and not bright steel, which would certainly have been detected. Apparently
satisfied that there was nothing wrong, he then gave over his
investigations and contented himself with leaning on his spear and
standing gazing idly at the tuft. For at least three minutes did he stand
thus, plunged apparently in a gentle reverie, and there we lay in the last
extremity of anxiety, expecting every moment that we should be discovered
or that some untoward accident would happen. I could hear Alphonse's teeth
going like anything on the oiled rag, and turning my head round made an
awful face at him. But I am bound to state that my own heart was at much
the same game as the Frenchman's castanets, while the perspiration was
pouring from my body, causing the wash-leather-lined shirt to stick to me
unpleasantly, and altogether I was in the pitiable state known by
schoolboys as a 'blue fright'.</p>
<p>At last the ordeal came to an end. The sentry glanced at the east, and
appeared to note with satisfaction that his period of duty was coming to
an end—as indeed it was, once and for all—for he rubbed his
hands and began to walk again briskly to warm himself.</p>
<p>The moment his back was turned the long black snake glided on again, and
reached the other thistle tuft, which was within a couple of paces of his
return beat.</p>
<p>Back came the sentry and strolled right past the tuft, utterly unconscious
of the presence that was crouching behind it. Had he looked down he could
scarcely have failed to see, but he did not do so.</p>
<p>He passed, and then his hidden enemy erected himself, and with
outstretched hand followed in his tracks.</p>
<p>A moment more, and, just as the Elmoran was about to turn, the great Zulu
made a spring, and in the growing light we could see his long lean hands
close round the Masai's throat. Then followed a convulsive twining of the
two dark bodies, and in another second I saw the Masai's head bent back,
and heard a sharp crack, something like that of a dry twig snapping, and
he fell down upon the ground, his limbs moving spasmodically.</p>
<p>Umslopogaas had put out all his iron strength and broken the warrior's
neck.</p>
<p>For a moment he knelt upon his victim, still gripping his throat till he
was sure that there was nothing more to fear from him, and then he rose
and beckoned to us to advance, which we did on all fours, like a colony of
huge apes. On reaching the kraal we saw that the Masai had still further
choked this entrance, which was about ten feet wide—no doubt in
order to guard against attack—by dragging four or five tops of
mimosa trees up to it. So much the better for us, I reflected; the more
obstruction there was the slower would they be able to come through. Here
we separated; Mackenzie and his party creeping up under the shadow of the
wall to the left, while Sir Henry and Umslopogaas took their stations one
on each side of the thorn fence, the two spearmen and the Askari lying
down in front of it. I and my men crept on up the right side of the kraal,
which was about fifty paces long.</p>
<p>When I was two-thirds up I halted, and placed my men at distances of four
paces from one another, keeping Alphonse close to me, however. Then I
peeped for the first time over the wall. It was getting fairly light now,
and the first thing I saw was the white donkey, exactly opposite to me,
and close by it I could make out the pale face of little Flossie, who was
sitting as the lad had described, some ten paces from the wall. Round her
lay many warriors, sleeping. At distances all over the surface of the
kraal were the remains of fires, round each of which slept some
five-and-twenty Masai, for the most part gorged with food. Now and then a
man would raise himself, yawn, and look at the east, which was turning
primrose; but none got up. I determined to wait another five minutes, both
to allow the light to increase, so that we could make better shooting, and
to give Good and his party—of whom we could see or hear nothing—every
opportunity to make ready.</p>
<p>The quiet dawn began to throw her ever-widening mantle over plain and
forest and river—mighty Kenia, wrapped in the silence of eternal
snows, looked out across the earth—till presently a beam from the
unrisen sun lit upon his heaven-kissing crest and purpled it with blood;
the sky above grew blue, and tender as a mother's smile; a bird began to
pipe his morning song, and a little breeze passing through the bush shook
down the dewdrops in millions to refresh the waking world. Everywhere was
peace and the happiness of arising strength, everywhere save in the heart
of cruel man!</p>
<p>Suddenly, just as I was nerving myself for the signal, having already
selected my man on whom I meant to open fire—a great fellow
sprawling on the ground within three feet of little Flossie—Alphonse's
teeth began to chatter again like the hoofs of a galloping giraffe, making
a great noise in the silence. The rag had dropped out in the agitation of
his mind. Instantly a Masai within three paces of us woke, and, sitting
up, gazed about him, looking for the cause of the sound. Moved beyond
myself, I brought the butt-end of my rifle down on to the pit of the
Frenchman's stomach. This stopped his chattering; but, as he doubled up,
he managed to let off his gun in such a manner that the bullet passed
within an inch of my head.</p>
<p>There was no need for a signal now. From both sides of the kraal broke out
a waving line of fire, in which I myself joined, managing with a snap shot
to knock over my Masai by Flossie, just as he was jumping up. Then from
the top end of the kraal there rang an awful yell, in which I rejoiced to
recognize Good's piercing notes rising clear and shrill above the din, and
in another second followed such a scene as I have never seen before nor
shall again. With an universal howl of terror and fury the brawny crowd of
savages within the kraal sprang to their feet, many of them to fall again
beneath our well-directed hail of lead before they had moved a yard. For a
moment they stood undecided, and then hearing the cries and curses that
rose unceasingly from the top end of the kraal, and bewildered by the
storm of bullets, they as by one impulse rushed down towards the
thorn-stopped entrance. As they went we kept pouring our fire with
terrible effect into the thickening mob as fast as we could load. I had
emptied my repeater of the ten shots it contained and was just beginning
to slip in some more when I bethought me of little Flossie. Looking up, I
saw that the white donkey was lying kicking, having been knocked over
either by one of our bullets or a Masai spear-thrust. There were no living
Masai near, but the black nurse was on her feet and with a spear cutting
the rope that bound Flossie's feet. Next second she ran to the wall of the
kraal and began to climb over it, an example which the little girl
followed. But Flossie was evidently very stiff and cramped, and could only
go slowly, and as she went two Masai flying down the kraal caught sight of
her and rushed towards her to kill her. The first fellow came up just as
the poor little girl, after a desperate effort to climb the wall, fell
back into the kraal. Up flashed the great spear, and as it did so a bullet
from my rifle found its home in the holder's ribs, and over he went like a
shot rabbit. But behind him was the other man, and, alas, I had only that
one cartridge in the magazine! Flossie had scrambled to her feet and was
facing the second man, who was advancing with raised spear. I turned my
head aside and felt sick as death. I could not bear to see him stab her.
Glancing up again, to my surprise I saw the Masai's spear lying on the
ground, while the man himself was staggering about with both hands to his
head. Suddenly I saw a puff of smoke proceeding apparently from Flossie,
and the man fell down headlong. Then I remembered the Derringer pistol she
carried, and saw that she had fired both barrels of it at him, thereby
saving her life. In another instant she had made an effort, and assisted
by the nurse, who was lying on the top, had scrambled over the wall, and I
knew that she was, comparatively speaking, safe.</p>
<p>All this takes time to tell, but I do not suppose that it took more than
fifteen seconds to enact. I soon got the magazine of the repeater filled
again with cartridges, and once more opened fire, not on the seething
black mass which was gathering at the end of the kraal, but on fugitives
who bethought them to climb the wall. I picked off several of these men,
moving down towards the end of the kraal as I did so, and arriving at the
corner, or rather the bend of the oval, in time to see, and by means of my
rifle to assist in, the mighty struggle that took place there.</p>
<p>By this time some two hundred Masai—allowing that we had up to the
present accounted for fifty—had gathered together in front of the
thorn-stopped entrance, driven thither by the spears of Good's men, whom
they doubtless supposed were a large force instead of being but ten
strong. For some reason it never occurred to them to try and rush the
wall, which they could have scrambled over with comparative ease; they all
made for the fence, which was really a strongly interwoven fortification.
With a bound the first warrior went at it, and even before he touched the
ground on the other side I saw Sir Henry's great axe swing up and fall
with awful force upon his feather head-piece, and he sank into the middle
of the thorns. Then with a yell and a crash they began to break through as
they might, and ever as they came the great axe swung and Inkosi-kaas
flashed and they fell dead one by one, each man thus helping to build up a
barrier against his fellows. Those who escaped the axes of the pair fell
at the hands of the Askari and the two Mission Kaffirs, and those who
passed scatheless from them were brought low by my own and Mackenzie's
fire.</p>
<p>Faster and more furious grew the fighting. Single Masai would spring upon
the dead bodies of their comrades, and engage one or other of the axemen
with their long spears; but, thanks chiefly to the mail shirts, the result
was always the same. Presently there was a great swing of the axe, a
crashing sound, and another dead Masai. That is, if the man was engaged
with Sir Henry. If it was Umslopogaas that he fought with the result
indeed would be the same, but it would be differently attained. It was but
rarely that the Zulu used the crashing double-handed stroke; on the
contrary, he did little more than tap continually at his adversary's head,
pecking at it with the pole-axe end of the axe as a woodpecker {Endnote 7}
pecks at rotten wood. Presently a peck would go home, and his enemy would
drop down with a neat little circular hole in his forehead or skull,
exactly similar to that which a cheese-scoop makes in a cheese. He never
used the broad blade of the axe except when hard pressed, or when striking
at a shield. He told me afterwards that he did not consider it
sportsmanlike.</p>
<p>Good and his men were quite close by now, and our people had to cease
firing into the mass for fear of killing some of them (as it was, one of
them was slain in this way). Mad and desperate with fear, the Masai by a
frantic effort burst through the thorn fence and piled-up dead, and,
sweeping Curtis, Umslopogaas, and the other three before them, into the
open. And now it was that we began to lose men fast. Down went our poor
Askari who was armed with the axe, a great spear standing out a foot
behind his back; and before long the two spearsmen who had stood with him
went down too, dying fighting like tigers; and others of our party shared
their fate. For a moment I feared the fight was lost—certainly it
trembled in the balance. I shouted to my men to cast down their rifles,
and to take spears and throw themselves into the melee. They obeyed, their
blood being now thoroughly up, and Mr Mackenzie's people followed their
example.</p>
<p>This move had a momentary good result, but still the fight hung in the
balance.</p>
<p>Our people fought magnificently, hurling themselves upon the dark mass of
Elmoran, hewing, thrusting, slaying, and being slain. And ever above the
din rose Good's awful yell of encouragement as he plunged to wherever the
fight was thickest; and ever, with an almost machine-like regularity, the
two axes rose and fell, carrying death and disablement at every stroke.
But I could see that the strain was beginning to tell upon Sir Henry, who
was bleeding from several flesh wounds: his breath was coming in gasps,
and the veins stood out on his forehead like blue and knotted cords. Even
Umslopogaas, man of iron that he was, was hard pressed. I noticed that he
had given up 'woodpecking', and was now using the broad blade of
Inkosi-kaas, 'browning' his enemy wherever he could hit him, instead of
drilling scientific holes in his head. I myself did not go into the melee,
but hovered outside like the swift 'back' in a football scrimmage, putting
a bullet through a Masai whenever I got a chance. I was more use so. I
fired forty-nine cartridges that morning, and I did not miss many shots.</p>
<p>Presently, do as we would, the beam of the balance began to rise against
us. We had not more than fifteen or sixteen effectives left now, and the
Masai had at least fifty. Of course if they had kept their heads, and
shaken themselves together, they could soon have made an end of the
matter; but that is just what they did not do, not having yet recovered
from their start, and some of them having actually fled from their
sleeping-places without their weapons. Still by now many individuals were
fighting with their normal courage and discretion, and this alone was
sufficient to defeat us. To make matters worse just then, when Mackenzie's
rifle was empty, a brawny savage armed with a 'sime', or sword, made a
rush for him. The clergyman flung down his gun, and drawing his huge
carver from his elastic belt (his revolver had dropped out in the fight),
they closed in desperate struggle. Presently, locked in a close embrace,
missionary and Masai rolled on the ground behind the wall, and for some
time I, being amply occupied with my own affairs, and in keeping my skin
from being pricked, remained in ignorance of his fate or how the duel had
ended.</p>
<p>To and fro surged the fight, slowly turning round like the vortex of a
human whirlpool, and the matter began to look very bad for us. Just then,
however, a fortunate thing happened. Umslopogaas, either by accident or
design, broke out of the ring and engaged a warrior at some few paces from
it. As he did so, another man ran up and struck him with all his force
between his shoulders with his great spear, which, falling on the tough
steel shirt, failed to pierce it and rebounded. For a moment the man
stared aghast—protective armour being unknown among these tribes—and
then he yelled out at the top of his voice—</p>
<p>'<i>They are devils—bewitched, bewitched!</i>' And seized by a
sudden panic, he threw down his spear, and began to fly. I cut short his
career with a bullet, and Umslopogaas brained his man, and then the panic
spread to the others.</p>
<p>'<i>Bewitched, bewitched!</i>' they cried, and tried to escape in every
direction, utterly demoralized and broken-spirited, for the most part even
throwing down their shields and spears.</p>
<p>On the last scene of that dreadful fight I need not dwell. It was a
slaughter great and grim, in which no quarter was asked or given. One
incident, however, is worth detailing. Just as I was hoping that it was
all done with, suddenly from under a heap of slain where he had been
hiding, an unwounded warrior sprang up, and, clearing the piles of dying
dead like an antelope, sped like the wind up the kraal towards the spot
where I was standing at the moment. But he was not alone, for Umslopogaas
came gliding on his tracks with the peculiar swallow-like motion for which
he was noted, and as they neared me I recognized in the Masai the herald
of the previous night. Finding that, run as he would, his pursuer was
gaining on him, the man halted and turned round to give battle.
Umslopogaas also pulled up.</p>
<p>'Ah, ah,' he cried, in mockery, to the Elmoran, 'it is thou whom I talked
with last night—the Lygonani! the Herald! the capturer of little
girls—he who would kill a little girl! And thou didst hope to stand
man to man and face to face with Umslopogaas, an Induna of the tribe of
the Maquilisini, of the people of the Amazulu? Behold, thy prayer is
granted! And I didst swear to hew thee limb from limb, thou insolent dog.
Behold, I will do it even now!'</p>
<p>The Masai ground his teeth with fury, and charged at the Zulu with his
spear. As he came, Umslopogaas deftly stepped aside, and swinging
Inkosi-kaas high above his head with both hands, brought the broad blade
down with such fearful force from behind upon the Masai's shoulder just
where the neck is set into the frame, that its razor edge shore right
through bone and flesh and muscle, almost severing the head and one arm
from the body.</p>
<p>'<i>Ou!</i>' ejaculated Umslopogaas, contemplating the corpse of his foe;
'I have kept my word. It was a good stroke.'</p>
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