章节正文
making as it were a curtain about the thousands of the people; but
still their cry went up through the rain, and the roll of the thunder
was lost in it. Presently there came a hush, and I looked to the
right. There, above the heads of the people, coming over the brow of
the hill, were the plumes of warriors, and in their hands gleamed a
hedge of spears. I looked to the left; there also I saw the plumes of
warriors dimly through the falling rain, and in their hands a hedge of
spears. I looked before me, towards the end of the cleft; there also
loomed the plumes of warriors, and in their hands was a hedge of
spears.
Then, from all the people there arose another cry, a cry of terror and
of agony.
"Ah! now they mourn indeed, Mopo," said Chaka in my ear; "now thy
people mourn from the heart and not with the lips alone."
As he spoke the multitude of the people on either side of the rift
surged forward like a wave, surged back again, once more surged
forward, then, with a dreadful crying, driven on by the merciless
spears of the soldiers, they began to fall in a torrent of men, women,
and children, far into the black depths below.
* * * * *
My father, forgive me the tears that fall from these blind eyes of
mine; I am very aged, I am but as a little child, and as a little
child I weep. I cannot tell it. At last it was done, and all grew
still.
* * * * *
Thus was Makedama buried beneath the bodies of his people; thus was
ended the tribe of the Langeni; as my mother had dreamed, so it came
about; and thus did Chaka take vengeance for that cup of milk which
was refused to him many a year before.
"Thou hast not won thy bet, Mopo," said the king presently. "See there
is a little space where one more may find room to sleep. Full to the
brim is this corn-chamber with the ears of death, in which no living
grain is left. Yet there is one little space, and is there not one to
fill it? Are all the tribe of the Langeni dead indeed?"
"There is one, O King!" I answered. "I am of the tribe of the Langeni,
let my carcase fill the place."
"Nay, Mopo, nay! Who then should take the bet? Moreover, I slay thee
not, for it is against my oath. Also, do we not mourn together, thou
and I?"
"There is no other left living of the tribe of the Langeni, O King!
The bet is lost; it shall be paid."
"I think that there is another," said Chaka. "There is a sister to
thee and me, Mopo. Ah, see, she comes!"
I looked up, my father, and I saw this: I saw Baleka, my sister,
walking towards us, and on her shoulders was a kaross of wild-cat
skins, and behind her were two soldiers. She walked proudly, holding
her head high, and her step was like the step of a queen. Now she saw
the sight of death, for the dead lay before her like black water in a
sunless pool. A moment she stood shivering, having guessed all, then
walked on and stood before Chaka.
"What is thy will with me, O King?" she said.
"Thou art come in a good hour, sister," said Chaka, turning his eyes
from hers. "It is thus: Mopo, my servant and thy brother, made a bet
with me, a bet of cattle. It was a little matter that we wagered on--
as to whether the people of the Langeni tribe--thine own tribe,
Baleka, my sister--would fill yonder place, U'Donga-lu-ka-Tatiyana.
When they heard of the bet, my sister, the people of the Langeni
hurled themselves into the rift by thousands, being eager to put the
matter to the proof. And now it seems that thy brother has lost the
bet, for there is yet place for one yonder ere the donga is full.
Then, my sister, thy brother Mopo brought it to my mind that there was
still one of the Langeni tribe left upon the earth, who, should she
sleep in that place, would turn the bet in his favour, and prayed me
to send for her. So, my sister, as I would not take that which I have
not won, I have done so, and now do thou go apart and talk with Mopo,
thy brother, alone upon this matter, as once before thou didst talk
when a child was born to thee, my sister!"
Now Baleka took no heed of the words of Chaka which he spoke of me,
for she knew his meaning well. Only she looked him in the eyes and
said:--
"Ill shalt thou sleep from this night forth, Chaka, till thou comest
to a land where no sleep is. I have spoken."
Chaka saw and heard, and of a sudden he quailed, growing afraid in his
heart, and turned his head away.
"Mopo, my brother," said Baleka, "let us speak together for the last
time; it is the king's word."
So I drew apart with Baleka, my sister, and a spear was in my hand. We
stood together alone by the people of the dead and Baleka threw the
corner of the kaross about her brows and spoke to me swiftly from
beneath its shadow.
"What did I say to you a while ago, Mopo? It has come to pass. Swear
to me that you will live on and that this same hand of yours shall
taken vengeance for me."
"I swear it, my sister."
"Swear to me that when the vengeance is done you will seek out my son
Umslopogaas if he still lives, and bless him in my name."
"I swear it, my sister."
"Fare you well, Mopo! We have always loved each other much, and now
all fades, and it seems to me that once more we are little children
playing about the kraals of the Langeni. So may we play again in
another land! Now, Mopo"--and she looked at me steadily, and with
great eyes--"I am weary. I would join the spirits of my people. I hear
them calling in my ears. It is finished."
* * * * *
For the rest, I will not tell it to you, my father.
CHAPTER XIX
MASILO COMES TO THE KRAAL DUGUZA
That night the curse of Baleka fell upon Chaka, and he slept ill. So
ill did he sleep that he summoned me to him, bidding me walk abroad
with him. I went, and we walked alone and in silence, Chaka leading
the way and I following after him. Now I saw that his feet led him
towards the U'Donga-lu-ka-Tatiyana, that place where all my people lay
dead, and with them Baleka, my sister. We climbed the slope of the
hill slowly, and came to the mouth of the cleft, to that same spot
where Chaka had stood when the people fell over the lips of the rock
like water. Then there had been noise and crying, now there was
silence, for the night was very still. The moon was full also, and
lighted up the dead who lay near to us, so that I could see them all;
yes, I could see even the face of Baleka, my sister--they had thrown
her into the midst of the dead. Never had it looked so beautiful as in
this hour, and yet as I gazed I grew afraid. Only the far end of the
donga was hid in shadow.
"Thou wouldst not have won thy bet now, Mopo, my servant," said Chaka.
"See, they have sunk together! The donga is not full by the length of
a stabbing-spear."
I did not answer, but at the sound of the king's voice jackals stirred
and slunk away.
Presently he spoke again, laughing loudly as he spoke: "Thou shouldst
sleep well this night, my mother, for I have sent many to hush thee to
rest. Ah, people of the Langeni tribe, you forgot, but I remembered!
You forgot how a woman and a boy came to you seeking food and shelter,
and you would give them none--no, not a gourd of milk. What did I
promise you on that day, people of the Langeni tribe? Did I not
promise you that for every drop the gourd I craved would hold I would
take the life of a man? And have I not kept my promise? Do not men lie
here more in number than the drops of water in a gourd, and with them
woman and children countless as the leaves? O people of the Langeni
tribe, who refused me milk when I was little, having grown great, I am
avenged upon you! Having grown great! Ah! who is there so great as I?
The earth shakes beneath my feet; when I speak the people tremble,
when I frown they die--they die in thousands. I have grown great, and
great I shall remain! The land is mine, far as the feet of man can
travel the land is mine, and mine are those who dwell in it. And I
shall grow greater yet--greater, ever greater. Is it thy face, Baleka,
that stares upon me from among the faces of the thousands whom I have
slain? Thou didst promise me that I should sleep ill henceforth.
Baleka, I fear thee not--at the least, thou sleepest sound. Tell me,
Baleka--rise from thy sleep and tell me whom there is that I should
fear!"--and suddenly he ceased the ravings of his pride.
Now, my father, while Chaka the king spoke thus, it came into my mind
to make an end of things and kill him, for my heart was made with rage
and the thirst of vengeance. Already I stood behind him, already the
stick in my hand was lifted to strike out his brains, when I stopped
also, for I saw something. There, in the midst of the dead, I saw an
arm stir. It stirred, it lifted itself, it beckoned towards the shadow
which hid the head of the cleft and the piled-up corpses that lay
there, and it seemed to me that the arm was the arm of Baleka.
Perchance it was not her arm, perchance it was but the arm of one who
yet lived among the thousands of the dead, say you, my father! At the
least, the arm rose at her side, and was ringed with such bracelets as
Baleka wore, and it beckoned from her side, though her cold face
changed not at all. Thrice the arm rose, thrice it stood awhile in
air, thrice it beckoned with crooked finger, as though it summoned
something from the depths of the shadow, and from the multitudes of
the dead. Then it fell down, and in the utter silence I heard its fall
and a clank of brazen bracelets. And as it fell there rose from the
shadow a sound of singing, of singing wild and sweet, such as I had
never heard. The words of that song came to me then, my father; but
afterwards they passed from me, and I remember them no more. Only I
know this, that the song was of the making of Things, and of the
beginning and the end of Peoples. It told of how the black folk grew,
and of how the white folk should eat them up, and wherefore they were
and wherefore they should cease to be. It told of Evil and of Good, of
Woman and of Man, and of how these war against each other, and why it
is that they war, and what are the ends of the struggle. It told also
of the people of the Zulu, and it spoke of a place of a Little Hand
where they should conquer, and of a place where a White Hand should
prevail against them, and how they shall melt away beneath the shadow
of the White Hand and be forgotten, passing to a land where things do
not die, but live on forever, the Good with the Good, the Evil with
the Evil. It told of Life and of Death, of Joy and of Sorrow, of Time
and of that sea in which Time is but a floating leaf, and of why all
these things are. Many names also came into the song, and I knew but a
few of them, yet my own was there, and the name of Baleka and the name
of Umslopogaas, and the name of Chaka the Lion. But a little while did
the voice sing, yet all this was in the song--ay, and much more; but
the meaning of the song is gone from me, though I knew it once, and
shall know it again when all is done. The voice in the shadow sang on
till the whole place was full of the sound of its singing, and even
the dead seemed to listen. Chaka heard it and shook with fear, but his
ears were deaf to its burden, though mine were open.
The voice came nearer, and now in the shadow there was a faint glow of
light, like the glow that gathers on the six-days' dead. Slowly it
drew nearer, through the shadow, and as it came I saw that the shape
of the light was the shape of a woman. Now I could see it well, and I
knew the face of glory. My father, it was the face of the Inkosazana-
y-Zulu, the Queen of Heaven! She came towards us very slowly, gliding
down the gulf that was full of dead, and the path she trod was paved
with the dead; and as she came it seemed to me that shadows rose from
the dead, following her, the Queen of the Dead--thousands upon
thousands of them. And, ah! her glory, my father--the glory of her
hair of molten gold--of her eyes, that were as the noonday sky--the
flash of her arms and breast, that were like the driven snow, when it
glows in the sunset. Her beauty was awful to look on, but I am glad to
have lived to see it as it shone and changed in the shifting robe of
light which was her garment.
Now she drew near to us, and Chaka sank upon the earth, huddled up in
fear, hiding his face in his hands; but I was not afraid, my father--
only the wicked need fear to look on the Queen of Heaven. Nay, I was
not afraid: I stood upright and gazed upon her glory face to face. In
her hand she held a little spear hafted with the royal wood: it was
still their cry went up through the rain, and the roll of the thunder
was lost in it. Presently there came a hush, and I looked to the
right. There, above the heads of the people, coming over the brow of
the hill, were the plumes of warriors, and in their hands gleamed a
hedge of spears. I looked to the left; there also I saw the plumes of
warriors dimly through the falling rain, and in their hands a hedge of
spears. I looked before me, towards the end of the cleft; there also
loomed the plumes of warriors, and in their hands was a hedge of
spears.
Then, from all the people there arose another cry, a cry of terror and
of agony.
"Ah! now they mourn indeed, Mopo," said Chaka in my ear; "now thy
people mourn from the heart and not with the lips alone."
As he spoke the multitude of the people on either side of the rift
surged forward like a wave, surged back again, once more surged
forward, then, with a dreadful crying, driven on by the merciless
spears of the soldiers, they began to fall in a torrent of men, women,
and children, far into the black depths below.
* * * * *
My father, forgive me the tears that fall from these blind eyes of
mine; I am very aged, I am but as a little child, and as a little
child I weep. I cannot tell it. At last it was done, and all grew
still.
* * * * *
Thus was Makedama buried beneath the bodies of his people; thus was
ended the tribe of the Langeni; as my mother had dreamed, so it came
about; and thus did Chaka take vengeance for that cup of milk which
was refused to him many a year before.
"Thou hast not won thy bet, Mopo," said the king presently. "See there
is a little space where one more may find room to sleep. Full to the
brim is this corn-chamber with the ears of death, in which no living
grain is left. Yet there is one little space, and is there not one to
fill it? Are all the tribe of the Langeni dead indeed?"
"There is one, O King!" I answered. "I am of the tribe of the Langeni,
let my carcase fill the place."
"Nay, Mopo, nay! Who then should take the bet? Moreover, I slay thee
not, for it is against my oath. Also, do we not mourn together, thou
and I?"
"There is no other left living of the tribe of the Langeni, O King!
The bet is lost; it shall be paid."
"I think that there is another," said Chaka. "There is a sister to
thee and me, Mopo. Ah, see, she comes!"
I looked up, my father, and I saw this: I saw Baleka, my sister,
walking towards us, and on her shoulders was a kaross of wild-cat
skins, and behind her were two soldiers. She walked proudly, holding
her head high, and her step was like the step of a queen. Now she saw
the sight of death, for the dead lay before her like black water in a
sunless pool. A moment she stood shivering, having guessed all, then
walked on and stood before Chaka.
"What is thy will with me, O King?" she said.
"Thou art come in a good hour, sister," said Chaka, turning his eyes
from hers. "It is thus: Mopo, my servant and thy brother, made a bet
with me, a bet of cattle. It was a little matter that we wagered on--
as to whether the people of the Langeni tribe--thine own tribe,
Baleka, my sister--would fill yonder place, U'Donga-lu-ka-Tatiyana.
When they heard of the bet, my sister, the people of the Langeni
hurled themselves into the rift by thousands, being eager to put the
matter to the proof. And now it seems that thy brother has lost the
bet, for there is yet place for one yonder ere the donga is full.
Then, my sister, thy brother Mopo brought it to my mind that there was
still one of the Langeni tribe left upon the earth, who, should she
sleep in that place, would turn the bet in his favour, and prayed me
to send for her. So, my sister, as I would not take that which I have
not won, I have done so, and now do thou go apart and talk with Mopo,
thy brother, alone upon this matter, as once before thou didst talk
when a child was born to thee, my sister!"
Now Baleka took no heed of the words of Chaka which he spoke of me,
for she knew his meaning well. Only she looked him in the eyes and
said:--
"Ill shalt thou sleep from this night forth, Chaka, till thou comest
to a land where no sleep is. I have spoken."
Chaka saw and heard, and of a sudden he quailed, growing afraid in his
heart, and turned his head away.
"Mopo, my brother," said Baleka, "let us speak together for the last
time; it is the king's word."
So I drew apart with Baleka, my sister, and a spear was in my hand. We
stood together alone by the people of the dead and Baleka threw the
corner of the kaross about her brows and spoke to me swiftly from
beneath its shadow.
"What did I say to you a while ago, Mopo? It has come to pass. Swear
to me that you will live on and that this same hand of yours shall
taken vengeance for me."
"I swear it, my sister."
"Swear to me that when the vengeance is done you will seek out my son
Umslopogaas if he still lives, and bless him in my name."
"I swear it, my sister."
"Fare you well, Mopo! We have always loved each other much, and now
all fades, and it seems to me that once more we are little children
playing about the kraals of the Langeni. So may we play again in
another land! Now, Mopo"--and she looked at me steadily, and with
great eyes--"I am weary. I would join the spirits of my people. I hear
them calling in my ears. It is finished."
* * * * *
For the rest, I will not tell it to you, my father.
CHAPTER XIX
MASILO COMES TO THE KRAAL DUGUZA
That night the curse of Baleka fell upon Chaka, and he slept ill. So
ill did he sleep that he summoned me to him, bidding me walk abroad
with him. I went, and we walked alone and in silence, Chaka leading
the way and I following after him. Now I saw that his feet led him
towards the U'Donga-lu-ka-Tatiyana, that place where all my people lay
dead, and with them Baleka, my sister. We climbed the slope of the
hill slowly, and came to the mouth of the cleft, to that same spot
where Chaka had stood when the people fell over the lips of the rock
like water. Then there had been noise and crying, now there was
silence, for the night was very still. The moon was full also, and
lighted up the dead who lay near to us, so that I could see them all;
yes, I could see even the face of Baleka, my sister--they had thrown
her into the midst of the dead. Never had it looked so beautiful as in
this hour, and yet as I gazed I grew afraid. Only the far end of the
donga was hid in shadow.
"Thou wouldst not have won thy bet now, Mopo, my servant," said Chaka.
"See, they have sunk together! The donga is not full by the length of
a stabbing-spear."
I did not answer, but at the sound of the king's voice jackals stirred
and slunk away.
Presently he spoke again, laughing loudly as he spoke: "Thou shouldst
sleep well this night, my mother, for I have sent many to hush thee to
rest. Ah, people of the Langeni tribe, you forgot, but I remembered!
You forgot how a woman and a boy came to you seeking food and shelter,
and you would give them none--no, not a gourd of milk. What did I
promise you on that day, people of the Langeni tribe? Did I not
promise you that for every drop the gourd I craved would hold I would
take the life of a man? And have I not kept my promise? Do not men lie
here more in number than the drops of water in a gourd, and with them
woman and children countless as the leaves? O people of the Langeni
tribe, who refused me milk when I was little, having grown great, I am
avenged upon you! Having grown great! Ah! who is there so great as I?
The earth shakes beneath my feet; when I speak the people tremble,
when I frown they die--they die in thousands. I have grown great, and
great I shall remain! The land is mine, far as the feet of man can
travel the land is mine, and mine are those who dwell in it. And I
shall grow greater yet--greater, ever greater. Is it thy face, Baleka,
that stares upon me from among the faces of the thousands whom I have
slain? Thou didst promise me that I should sleep ill henceforth.
Baleka, I fear thee not--at the least, thou sleepest sound. Tell me,
Baleka--rise from thy sleep and tell me whom there is that I should
fear!"--and suddenly he ceased the ravings of his pride.
Now, my father, while Chaka the king spoke thus, it came into my mind
to make an end of things and kill him, for my heart was made with rage
and the thirst of vengeance. Already I stood behind him, already the
stick in my hand was lifted to strike out his brains, when I stopped
also, for I saw something. There, in the midst of the dead, I saw an
arm stir. It stirred, it lifted itself, it beckoned towards the shadow
which hid the head of the cleft and the piled-up corpses that lay
there, and it seemed to me that the arm was the arm of Baleka.
Perchance it was not her arm, perchance it was but the arm of one who
yet lived among the thousands of the dead, say you, my father! At the
least, the arm rose at her side, and was ringed with such bracelets as
Baleka wore, and it beckoned from her side, though her cold face
changed not at all. Thrice the arm rose, thrice it stood awhile in
air, thrice it beckoned with crooked finger, as though it summoned
something from the depths of the shadow, and from the multitudes of
the dead. Then it fell down, and in the utter silence I heard its fall
and a clank of brazen bracelets. And as it fell there rose from the
shadow a sound of singing, of singing wild and sweet, such as I had
never heard. The words of that song came to me then, my father; but
afterwards they passed from me, and I remember them no more. Only I
know this, that the song was of the making of Things, and of the
beginning and the end of Peoples. It told of how the black folk grew,
and of how the white folk should eat them up, and wherefore they were
and wherefore they should cease to be. It told of Evil and of Good, of
Woman and of Man, and of how these war against each other, and why it
is that they war, and what are the ends of the struggle. It told also
of the people of the Zulu, and it spoke of a place of a Little Hand
where they should conquer, and of a place where a White Hand should
prevail against them, and how they shall melt away beneath the shadow
of the White Hand and be forgotten, passing to a land where things do
not die, but live on forever, the Good with the Good, the Evil with
the Evil. It told of Life and of Death, of Joy and of Sorrow, of Time
and of that sea in which Time is but a floating leaf, and of why all
these things are. Many names also came into the song, and I knew but a
few of them, yet my own was there, and the name of Baleka and the name
of Umslopogaas, and the name of Chaka the Lion. But a little while did
the voice sing, yet all this was in the song--ay, and much more; but
the meaning of the song is gone from me, though I knew it once, and
shall know it again when all is done. The voice in the shadow sang on
till the whole place was full of the sound of its singing, and even
the dead seemed to listen. Chaka heard it and shook with fear, but his
ears were deaf to its burden, though mine were open.
The voice came nearer, and now in the shadow there was a faint glow of
light, like the glow that gathers on the six-days' dead. Slowly it
drew nearer, through the shadow, and as it came I saw that the shape
of the light was the shape of a woman. Now I could see it well, and I
knew the face of glory. My father, it was the face of the Inkosazana-
y-Zulu, the Queen of Heaven! She came towards us very slowly, gliding
down the gulf that was full of dead, and the path she trod was paved
with the dead; and as she came it seemed to me that shadows rose from
the dead, following her, the Queen of the Dead--thousands upon
thousands of them. And, ah! her glory, my father--the glory of her
hair of molten gold--of her eyes, that were as the noonday sky--the
flash of her arms and breast, that were like the driven snow, when it
glows in the sunset. Her beauty was awful to look on, but I am glad to
have lived to see it as it shone and changed in the shifting robe of
light which was her garment.
Now she drew near to us, and Chaka sank upon the earth, huddled up in
fear, hiding his face in his hands; but I was not afraid, my father--
only the wicked need fear to look on the Queen of Heaven. Nay, I was
not afraid: I stood upright and gazed upon her glory face to face. In
her hand she held a little spear hafted with the royal wood: it was
- presently [´prezəntli]
ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词) - terror [´terə] n.恐怖；惊骇 (初中英语单词)
- multitude [´mʌltitju:d] n.大群(批)；众多 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- moreover [mɔ:´rəuvə] ad.再者，此外，而且 (初中英语单词)
- proudly [´praudli] ad.骄傲地；傲慢地 (初中英语单词)
- swiftly [´swiftli] ad.迅速地，敏捷地 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- thirst [θə:st] n.渴，口渴；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- awhile [ə´wail] ad.少顷；片刻 (初中英语单词)
- conquer [´kɔŋkə] v.征服；克服；抑制 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- torrent [´tɔrənt] n.奔流，激流，洪流；迸发 (高中英语单词)
- vengeance [´vendʒəns] n.报复，复仇 (高中英语单词)
- countless [´kauntlis] a.无数的 (高中英语单词)
- crooked [´krukid] a.弯曲的；畸形的 (高中英语单词)
- upright [´ʌprait] a.直立的 ad.直立地 (高中英语单词)
- perchance [pə´tʃɑ:ns] ad.偶然；可能 (英语四级单词)
- thrice [θrais] ad.三倍地；三次 (英语四级单词)
- brazen [´breizən] a.黄铜制的；无耻的 (英语四级单词)
- wherefore [´weəfɔ:] ad.为什么；因此 (英语四级单词)
- molten [´məultən] melt的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- noonday [´nu:ndei] n.正午 (英语四级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- ringed [riŋd] a.带环的；戴戒指的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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