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CHAPTER XX - THE BATTLE OF THE GATE
By now heavy firing had begun at the north gate of the town,
accompanied by much shouting. The mist was still too thick to enable
us to see anything at first. But shortly after the commencement of the
firing a strong, hot wind, which always followed these mists, got up
and gradually gathered to a gale, blowing away the vapours. Then from
the top of the crest, Hans, who had climbed a tree there, reported
that the Arabs were advancing on the north gate, firing as they came,
and that the Mazitu were replying with their bows and arrows from
behind the palisade that surrounded the town. This palisade, I should
state, consisted of an earthen bank on the top of which tree trunks
were set close together. Many of these had struck in that fertile
soil, so that in general appearance this protective work resembled a
huge live fence, on the outer and inner side of which grew great
masses of prickly pear and tall, finger-like cacti. A while afterwards
Hans reported that the Mazitu were retreating and a few minutes later
they began to arrive through the south gate, bringing several wounded
with them. Their captain said that they could not stand against the
fire of the guns and had determined to abandon the town and make the
best fight they could upon the ridge.
A little later the rest of the Mazitu came, driving before them all
the non-combatants who remained in the town. With these was King
Bausi, in a terrible state of excitement.
"Was I not wise, Macumazana," he shouted, "to fear the slave-traders
and their guns? Now they have come to kill those who are old and to
take the young away in their gangs to sell them."
"Yes, King," I could not help answering, "you were wise. But if you
had done what I said and kept a better look-out Hassan could not have
crept on you like a leopard on a goat."
"It is true," he groaned; "but who knows the taste of a fruit till he
has bitten it?"
Then he went to see to the disposal of his soldiers along the ridge,
placing, by my advice, the most of them at each end of the line to
frustrate any attempt to out-flank us. We, for our part, busied
ourselves in serving out those guns which we had taken in the first
fight with the slavers to the thirty or forty picked men whom I had
been instructing in the use of firearms. If they did not do much
damage, at least, I thought, they could make a noise and impress the
enemy with the idea that we were well armed.
Ten minutes or so later Babemba arrived with about fifty men, all the
Mazitu soldiers who were left in the town. He reported that he had
held the north gate as long as he could in order to gain time, and
that the Arabs were breaking it in. I begged him to order the soldiers
to pile up stones as a defence against the bullets and to lie down
behind them. This he went to do.
Then, after a pause, we saw a large body of the Arabs who had effected
an entry, advancing down the central street towards us. Some of them
had spears as well as guns, on which they carried a dozen or so of
human heads cut from the Mazitus who had been killed, waving them
aloft and shouting in triumph. It was a sickening sight, and one that
made me grind my teeth with rage. Also I could not help reflecting
that ere long our heads might be upon those spears. Well, if the worst
came to the worst I was determined that I would not be taken alive to
be burned in a slow fire or pinned over an ant-heap, a point upon
which the others agreed with me, though poor Brother John had scruples
as to suicide, even in despair.
It was just then that I missed Hans and asked where he had gone.
Somebody said that he thought he had seen him running away, whereon
Mavovo, who was growing excited, called out:
"Ah! Spotted Snake has sought his hole. Snakes hiss, but they do not
charge."
"No, but sometimes they bite," I answered, for I could not believe
that Hans had showed the white feather. However, he was gone and
clearly we were in no state to send to look for him.
Now our hope was that the slavers, flushed with victory, would advance
across the open ground of the market-place, which we could sweep with
our fire from our position on the ridge. This, indeed, they began to
do, whereon, without orders, the Mazitu to whom we had given the guns,
to my fury and dismay, commenced to blaze away at a range of about
four hundred yards, and after a good deal of firing managed to kill or
wound two or three men. Then the Arabs, seeing their danger, retreated
and, after a pause, renewed their advance in two bodies. This time,
however, they followed the streets of huts that were built thickly
between the outer palisade of the town and the market-place, which, as
it had been designed to hold cattle in time of need, was also
surrounded with a wooden fence strong enough to resist the rush of
horned beasts. On that day, I should add, as the Mazitu never dreamed
of being attacked, all their stock were grazing on some distant veldt.
In this space between the two fences were many hundreds of huts,
wattle and grass built, but for the most part roofed with palm leaves,
for here, in their separate quarters, dwelt the great majority of the
inhabitants of Beza Town, of which the northern part was occupied by
the king, the nobles and the captains. This ring of huts, which
entirely surrounded the market-place except at the two gateways, may
have been about a hundred and twenty yards in width.
Down the paths between these huts, both on the eastern and the western
side, advanced the Arabs and half-breeds, of whom there appeared to be
about four hundred, all armed with guns and doubtless trained to
fighting. It was a terrible force for us to face, seeing that although
we may have had nearly as many men, our guns did not total more than
fifty, and most of those who held them were quite unused to the
management of firearms.
Soon the Arabs began to open fire on us from behind the huts, and a
very accurate fire it was, as our casualties quickly showed,
notwithstanding the stone /schanzes/ we had constructed. The worst
feature of the thing also was that we could not reply with any effect,
as our assailants, who gradually worked nearer, were effectively
screened by the huts, and we had not enough guns to attempt organised
volley firing. Although I tried to keep a cheerful countenance I
confess that I began to fear the worst and even to wonder if we could
possibly attempt to retreat. This idea was abandoned, however, since
the Arabs would certainly overtake and shoot us down.
One thing I did. I persuaded Babemba to send about fifty men to build
up the southern gate, which was made of trunks of trees and opened
outwards, with earth and the big stones that lay about in plenty.
While this was being done quickly, for the Mazitu soldiers worked at
the task like demons and, being sheltered by the palisade, could not
be shot, all of a sudden I caught sight of four or five wisps of smoke
that arose in quick succession at the north end of the town and were
instantly followed by as many bursts of flame which leapt towards us
in the strong wind.
Someone was firing Beza Town! In less than an hour the flames, driven
by the gale through hundreds of huts made dry as tinder by the heat,
would reduce Beza to a heap of ashes. It was inevitable, nothing could
save the place! For an instant I thought that the Arabs must have done
this thing. Then, seeing that new fires continually arose in different
places, I understood that no Arabs, but a friend or friends were at
work, who had conceived the idea of /destroying the Arabs with fire/.
My mind flew to Sammy. Without doubt Sammy had stayed behind to carry
out this terrible and masterly scheme, of which I am sure none of the
Mazitu would have thought, since it involved the absolute destruction
of their homes and property. Sammy, at whom we had always mocked, was,
after all, a great man, prepared to perish in the flames in order to
save his friends!
Babemba rushed up, pointing with a spear to the rising fire. Now my
inspiration came.
"Take all your men," I said, "except those who are armed with guns.
Divide them, encircle the town, guard the north gate, though I think
none can win back through the flames, and if any of the Arabs succeed
in breaking through the palisade, kill them."
"It shall be done," shouted Babemba, "but oh! for the town of Beza
where I was born! Oh! for the town of Beza!"
"Drat the town of Beza!" I holloaed after him, or rather its native
equivalent. "It is of all our lives that I'm thinking."
Three minutes later the Mazitu, divided into two bodies, were running
like hares to encircle the town, and though a few were shot as they
descended the slope, the most of them gained the shelter of the
palisade in safety, and there at intervals halted by sections, for
Babemba managed the matter very well.
Now only we white people, with the Zulu hunters under Mavovo, of whom
there were twelve in all, and the Mazitu armed with guns, numbering
about thirty, were left upon the slope.
For a little while the Arabs did not seem to realise what had
happened, but engaged themselves in peppering at the Mazitu, who, I
think, they concluded were in full flight. Presently, however, they
either heard or saw.
Oh! what a hubbub ensued. All the four hundred of them began to shout
at once. Some of them ran to the palisade and began to climb it, but
as they reached the top of the fence were pinned by the Mazitu arrows
and fell backwards, while a few who got over became entangled in the
prickly pears on the further side and were promptly speared. Giving up
this attempt, they rushed back along the lane with the intention of
escaping at the north-gate. But before ever they reached the head of
the market-place the roaring, wind-swept flames, leaping from hut to
hut, had barred their path. They could not face that awful furnace.
Now they took another counsel and in a great confused body charged
down the market-place to break out at the south gate, and our turn
came. How we raked them as they sped across the open, an easy mark! I
know that I fired as fast as I could using two rifles, swearing the
while at Hans because he was not there to load for me. Stephen was
better off in this respect, for, looking round, to my astonishment I
saw Hope, who had left her mother on the other side of the hill, in
the act of capping his second gun. I should explain that during our
stay in Beza Town we had taught her how to use a rifle.
I called to him to send her away, but again she would not go, even
after a bullet had pierced her dress.
Still, all our shooting could not stop that rush of men, made
desperate by the fear of a fiery death. Leaving many stretched out
behind them, the first of the Arabs drew near to the south gate.
"My father," said Mavovo in my ear, "now the real fighting is going to
begin. The gate will soon be down. /We/ must be the gate."
I nodded, for if the Arabs once got through, there were enough of them
left to wipe us out five times over. Indeed, I do not suppose that up
to this time they had actually lost more than forty men. A few words
explained the situation to Stephen and Brother John, whom I told to
take his daughter to her mother and wait there with them. The Mazitu I
ordered to throw down their guns, for if they kept these I was sure
they would shoot some of us, and to accompany us, bringing their
spears only.
Then we rushed down the slope and took up our position in a little
open space in front of the gate, that now was tottering to its fall
beneath the blows and draggings of the Arabs. At this time the sight
was terrible and magnificent, for the flames had got hold of the two
half-circles of huts that embraced the market-place, and, fanned by
the blast, were rushing towards us like a thing alive. Above us swept
a great pall of smoke in which floated flakes of fire, so thick that
it hid the sky, though fortunately the wind did not suffer it to sink
and choke us. The sounds also were almost inconceivable, for to the
crackling roar of the conflagration as it devoured hut after hut, were
added the coarse, yelling voices of the half-bred Arabs, as in mingled
rage and terror they tore at the gateway or each other, and the
reports of the guns which many of them were still firing, half at
hazard.
We formed up before the gate, the Zulus with Stephen and myself in
front and the thirty picked Mazitu, commanded by no less a person than
Bausi, the king, behind. We had not long to wait, for presently down
the thing came and over it and the mound of earth and stones we had
built beyond, began to pour a mob of white-robed and turbaned men
whose mixed and tumultuous exit somehow reminded me of the pips and
pulp being squeezed out of a grenadilla fruit.
I gave the word, and we fired into that packed mass with terrible
effect. Really I think that each bullet must have brought down two or
three of them. Then, at a command from Mavovo, the Zulus threw down
their guns and charged with their broad spears. Stephen, who had got
hold of an assegai somehow, went with them, firing a Colt's revolver
as he ran, while at their backs came Bausi and his thirty tall Mazitu.
I will confess at once that I did not join in this terrific onslaught.
I felt that I had not weight enough for a scrimmage of the sort, also
that I should perhaps be better employed using my wits outside and
watching for a chance to be of service, like a half-back in a football
field, than in getting my brains knocked out in a general row. Or
mayhap my heart failed me and I was afraid. I dare say, for I have
never pretended to great courage. At any rate, I stopped outside and
shot whenever I got the chance, not without effect, filling a humble
but perhaps a useful part.
It was really magnificent, that fray. How those Zulus did go in. For
quite a long while they held the narrow gateway and the mound against
all the howling, thrusting mob, much as the Roman called Horatius and
his two friends held the entrance to some bridge or other long ago at
Rome against a great force of I forget whom. They shouted their Zulu
battle-cry of /Laba! Laba!/ that of their regiment, I suppose, for
most of them were men of about the same age, and stabbed and fought
and struggled and went down one by one.
Back the rest of them were swept; then, led by Mavovo, Stephen and
Bausi, charged again, reinforced with the thirty Mazitu. Now the
tongues of flame met almost over them, the growing fence of prickly
pear and cacti withered and crackled, and still they fought on beneath
that arch of fire.
Back they were driven again by the mere weight of numbers. I saw
Mavovo stab a man and go down. He rose and stabbed another, then fell
again for he was hard hit.
Two Arabs rushed to kill him. I shot them both with a right and left,
for fortunately my rifle was just reloaded. He rose once more and
killed a third man. Stephen came to his support and grappling with an
Arab, dashed his head against the gate-post so that he fell. Old
Bausi, panting like a grampus, plunged in with his remaining Mazitu
and the combatants became so confused in the dark gloom of the
overhanging smoke that I could scarcely tell one from the other. Yet
the maddened Arabs were winning, as they must, for how could our small
and ever-lessening company stand against their rush?
We were in a little circle now of which somehow I found myself the
centre, and they were attacking us on all sides. Stephen got a knock
on the head from the butt end of a gun, and tumbled against me, nearly
upsetting me. As I recovered myself I looked round in despair.
Now it was that I saw a very welcome sight, namely Hans, yes, the lost
Hans himself, with his filthy hat whereof I noticed even then the
frayed ostrich feathers were smouldering, hanging by a leather strap
at the back of his head. He was shambling along in a sly and silent
sort of way, but at a great rate with his mouth open, beckoning over
his shoulder, and behind him came about one hundred and fifty Mazitu.
Those Mazitu soon put another complexion upon the affair, for charging
with a roar, they drove back the Arabs, who had no space to develop
their line, straight into the jaws of that burning hell. A little
later the rest of the Mazitu returned with Babemba and finished the
job. Only quite a few of the Arabs got out and were captured after
they had thrown down their guns. The rest retreated into the centre of
the market-place, whither our people followed them. In this crisis the
blood of these Mazitu told, and they stuck to the enemy as Zulus
themselves would certainly have done.
It was over! Great Heaven! it was over, and we began to count our
losses. Four of the Zulus were dead and two others were badly wounded
--no, three, including Mavovo. They brought him to me leaning on the
shoulder of Babemba and another Mazitu captain. He was a shocking
sight, for he was shot in three places, and badly cut and battered as
well. He looked at me a little while, breathing heavily, then spoke.
"It was a very good fight, my father," he said. "Of all that I have
fought I can remember none better, although I have been in far greater
battles, which is well as it is my last. I foreknew it, my father, for
though I never told it you, the first death lot that I drew down
yonder in Durban was my own. Take back the gun you gave me, my father.
You did but lend it me for a little while, as I said to you. Now I go
to the Underworld to join the spirits of my ancestors and of those who
have fallen at my side in many wars, and of those women who bore my
children. I shall have a tale to tell them there, my father, and
together we will wait for you--till you, too, die in war!"
Then he lifted up his arm from the neck of Babemba, and saluted me
with a loud cry of /Baba! Inkosi!/ giving me certain great titles
which I will not set down, and having done so sank to the earth.
I sent one of the Mazitu to fetch Brother John, who arrived presently
with his wife and daughter. He examined Mavovo and told him straight
out that nothing could help him except prayer.
"Make no prayers for me, Dogeetah," said the old heathen; "I have
followed my star," (i.e. lived according to my lights) "and am ready
to eat the fruit that I have planted. Or if the tree prove barren,
then to drink of its sap and sleep."
Waving Brother John aside he beckoned to Stephen.
"O Wazela!" he said, "you fought very well in that fight; if you go on
as you have begun in time you will make a warrior of whom the Daughter
of the Flower and her children will sing songs after you have come to
join me, your friend. Meanwhile, farewell! Take this assegai of mine
and clean it not, that the red rust thereon may put you in mind of
Mavovo, the old Zulu doctor and captain with whom you stood side by
side in the Battle of the Gate, when, as though they were winter
grass, the fire burnt up the white-robed thieves of men who could not
pass our spears."
Then he waved his hand again, and Stephen stepped aside muttering
something, for he and Mavovo had been very intimate and his voice
choked in his throat with grief. Now the old Zulu's glazing eye fell
upon Hans, who was sneaking about, I think with a view of finding an
opportunity of bidding him a last good-bye.
"Ah! Spotted Snake," he cried, "so you have come out of your hole now
that the fire has passed it, to eat the burnt frogs in the cinders. It
is a pity that you who are so clever should be a coward, since our
lord Macumazana needed one to load for him on the hill and would have
killed more of the hyenas had you been there."
"Yes, Spotted Snake, it is so," echoed an indignant chorus of the
other Zulus, while Stephen and I and even the mild Brother John looked
at him reproachfully.
Now Hans, who generally was as patient under affront as a Jew, for
once lost his temper. He dashed his hat upon the ground, and danced on
it; he spat towards the surviving Zulu hunters; he even vituperated
the dying Mavovo.
"O son of a fool!" he said, "you pretend that you can see what is hid
from other men, but I tell you that there is a lying spirit in your
lips. You called me a coward because I am not big and strong as you
were, and cannot hold an ox by the horns, but at least there is more
brain in my stomach than in all your head. Where would all of you be
now had it not been for poor Spotted Snake the 'coward,' who twice
this day has saved every one of you, except those whom the Baas's
father, the reverend Predikant, has marked upon the forehead to come
and join him in a place that is even hotter and brighter than that
burning town?"
Now we looked at Hans, wondering what he meant about saving us twice,
and Mavovo said:
"Speak on quickly, O Spotted Snake, for I would hear the end of your
story. How did you help us in your hole?"
Hans began to grub about in his pockets, from which finally he
produced a match-box wherein there remained but one match.
"With this," he said. "Oh! could none of you see that the men of
Hassan had all walked into a trap? Did none of you know that fire
burns thatched houses, and that a strong wind drives it fast and far?
While you sat there upon the hill with your heads together, like sheep
waiting to be killed, I crept away among the bushes and went about my
business. I said nothing to any of you, not even to the Baas, lest he
should answer me, 'No, Hans, there may be an old woman sick in one of
those huts and therefore you must not fire them.' In such matters who
does not know that white people are fools, even the best of them, and
in fact there were several old women, for I saw them running for the
gateway. Well, I crept up by the green fence which I knew would not
burn and I came to the north gate. There was an Arab sentry left there
to watch.
"He fired at me, look! Well for Hans his mother bore him short"; and
he pointed to a hole in the filthy hat. "Then before that Arab could
load again, poor coward Hans got his knife into him from behind.
Look!" and he produced a big blade, which was such as butchers use,
from his belt and showed it to us. "After that it was easy, since fire
is a wonderful thing. You make it small and it grows big of itself,
like a child, and never gets tired, and is always hungry, and runs
fast as a horse. I lit six of them where they would burn quickest.
Then I saved the last match, since we have few left, and came through
the gate before the fire ate me up; me, its father, me the Sower of
the Red Seed!"
We stared at the old Hottentot in admiration, even Mavovo lifted his
dying head and stared. But Hans, whose annoyance had now evaporated,
went on in a jog-trot mechanical voice:
"As I was returning to find the Baas, if he still lived, the heat of
the fire forced me to the high ground to the west of the fence, so
that I saw what was happening at the south gate, and that the Arab men
must break through there because you who held it were so few. So I ran
down to Babemba and the other captains very quickly, telling them
there was no need to guard the fence any more, and that they must get
to the south gate and help you, since otherwise you would all be
killed, and they, too, would be killed afterwards. Babemba listened to
me and started sending out messengers to collect the others and we got
here just in time. Such is the hole I hid in during the Battle of the
Gate, O Mavovo. That is all the story which I pray that you will tell
to the Baas's reverend father, the Predikant, presently, for I am sure
that it will please him to learn that he did not teach me to be wise
and help all men and always to look after the Baas Allan, to no
purpose. Still, I am sorry that I wasted so many matches, for where
shall we get any more now that the camp is burnt?" and he gazed
ruefully at the all but empty box.
Mavovo spoke once more in a slow, gasping voice.
"Never again," he said, addressing Hans, "shall you be called Spotted
Snake, O little yellow man who are so great and white of heart.
Behold! I give you a new name, by which you shall be known with honour
from generation to generation. It is 'Light in Darkness.' It is 'Lord
of the Fire.'"
Then he closed his eyes and fell back insensible. Within a few minutes
he was dead. But those high names with which he christened Hans with
his dying breath, clung to the old Hottentot for all his days. Indeed
from that day forward no native would ever have ventured to call him
by any other. Among them, far and wide, they became his titles of
honour.
The roar of the flames grew less and the tumult within their fiery
circle died away. For now the Mazitu were returning from the last
fight in the market-place, if fight it could be called, bearing in
their arms great bundles of the guns which they had collected from the
dead Arabs, most of whom had thrown down their weapons in a last wild
effort to escape. But between the spears of the infuriated savages on
the one hand and the devouring fire on the other what escape was there
for them? The blood-stained wretches who remained in the camps and
towns of the slave-traders, along the eastern coast of Africa, or in
the Isle of Madagascar, alone could tell how many were lost, since of
those who went out from them to make war upon the Mazitu and their
white friends, none returned again with the long lines of expected
captives. They had gone to their own place, of which sometimes that
flaming African city has seemed to me a symbol. They were wicked men
indeed, devils stalking the earth in human form, without pity, without
shame. Yet I could not help feeling sorry for them at the last, for
truly their end was awful.
They brought the prisoners up to us, and among them, his white robe
half-burnt off him, I recognised the hideous pock-marked Hassan-ben-
Mohammed.
"I received your letter, written a while ago, in which you promised to
make us die by fire, and, this morning, I received your message,
Hassan," I said, "brought by the wounded lad who escaped from you when
you murdered his companions, and to both I sent you an answer. If none
reached you, look around, for there is one written large in a tongue
that all can read."
The monster, for he was no less, flung himself upon the ground,
praying for mercy. Indeed, seeing Mrs. Eversley, he crawled to her and
catching hold of her white robe, begged her to intercede for him.
"You made a slave of me after I had nursed you in the spotted
sickness," she answered, "and tried to kill my husband for no fault.
Through you, Hassan, I have spent all the best years of my life among
savages, alone and in despair. Still, for my part, I forgive you, but
oh! may I never see your face again."
Then she wrenched herself free from his grasp and went away with her
daughter.
"I, too, forgive you, although you murdered my people and for twenty
years made my time a torment," said Brother John, who was one of the
truest Christians I have ever known. "May God forgive you also"; and
he followed his wife and daughter.
Then the old king, Bausi, who had come through that battle with a
slight wound, spoke, saying:
"I am glad, Red Thief, that these white people have granted you what
you asked--namely, their forgiveness--since the deed is greatly to
their honour and causes me and my people to think them even nobler
than we did before. But, O murderer of men and woman and trafficker in
children, I am judge here, not the white people. Look on your work!"
and he pointed first to the lines of Zulu and Mazitu dead, and then to
his burning town. "Look and remember the fate you promised to us who
have never harmed you. Look! Look! Look! O Hyena of a man!"
At this point I too went away, nor did I ever ask what became of
Hassan and his fellow-captives. Moreover, whenever any of the natives
or Hans tried to inform me, I bade them hold their tongues.
Content of CHAPTER XX - THE BATTLE OF THE GATE [H. Rider Haggard's novel: Allan and the Holy Flower]
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