WHEN BRITON FOUGHT ZULU

Dominion, Volume 28, Issue 287, 31 August 1935, Page 22

WHEN BRITON FOUGHT ZULU

A Survivor of Isandhlwana

Jhu Sikophu Nxumalo lives between Johannesburg and Pretoria. A small wiry old man with a carefully-waxed moustache, he appears just an average dignified old native. But Nxumalo is a' veteran of Isandhlwana, where he served in the impis of Cetywayo. And he can tell a story or two to those who gain his confidence (writes R. L. McKibbin in the Johannesburg “Star"). Twenty years or more ago, Nxumalo purchased a couple of acres north of Sandfontein. It was before the Native Lands Act, and he was careful to have the legal formalities properly carried out. An astute soul, Nxumalo. And his precautions were justified, for subsequently several attempts were made ,to dispossess him, as a native, of his .small property. But the courts upheld him and he remains the owner and resident

Talk to Nxumalo of “the good old days,” and his eyes will glisten with excitement..

“Yes,” he will say, "I was a member of the Umcijo regiment, later affiliated with the Kandempemvu. We served at Isandhlwana and elsewhere. “In those days every Zulu male belonged to a regiment recruited from men of his own age. We lived in the great military kraals, tending the King’s cattle and cultivating the King's crops. Every, few months or so some of us would get leave to go home for a while. And if ahy. of us fell ill be. was carefully tended by the doctors and

sent home on' a black ox hide borne by several of his fellows. Otherwise we trained vigorously for war, and did not have overmuch to eat The King’s dogs must keep lean if they are to run fast I Many and many a time we had to travel as far as from Johannesburg t> Heidelberg, running without a stop and without a bite to eat throughout the day. This made us hard and lean. “Then came the war. We heard that the abelungu, the white men, were coming to take our king and steal our country. So we went to fight! “Isandhlwana —that was a terrible day! No, ’hkosana, war is a terrible thing. : We charged the enemy and they fought and fired until the battlefield was a choking cloud of smoke. ' In those days guns smoked when fired. The horsemen bolted for all they were worth. Cowards, they ran like rabbits, not having the heart to stand and fight But we ran them down like rabbits! We were Zulus. Some of the red-coats, the ‘rooibaaitjles,’ fled, too—little it helped them—but most stood their ground like men. But the ama-Scotchi (the Highlanders), ah, they were men! They died every man where he had stood and fought, bayonet to assegai, chest' to chest, as,men should fight. They’ were men, indeed—like Zulus! But then, they wore the ‘umutya,’ the kilt, like we did, too. Yes, we praised the ama-Seotehi. How. they could handle the bayonet—wen! "But war is terrible, ’nkosanai You rush, you rip, you stab and feint and stab again. You are mad, mad to kill. And the screams of the vanquished—like pigs being slaughtered—ring in your ears for long after.

“After Isandhlwana we, some of my regiment and others, poured on toward

Rorke’s Drift. There was a tradingstore in that neighbourhood called kwa Jim (Jim’s place). A detachment was sent to destroy it, but as we drew near we found a deep trench right round the place. And a bail of bullets from the defenders threatened to make things bad for-us. But we were Zulu warriors. So one party charged headlong for.the trench and leapt into it. A second followed. They stood ou the shoulders of the first and holding their shields over their heads formed a living bridge across which the rest charged into the store itself. In a few moments all was over and the place in flames.“A strange thing happened there, though. One white man escaped, and we did not know it. I saw hljn many years afterwards. His name was John Taylor. I noticed that one of his thumbs was missing and on inquiring how it came about learnt that he was one of the defenders of Jim’s place. When we burst into the store he crept among the sacks of sugar—and it was a Zulu spear ripping up the sacks of sugar that took oft his thumb. Luckily for him the smoke was so dense that he remained unseen. And as we thought that everyone had been killed we did not linger. "Afterward we had several other engagements. At one place a camp of soldiers was busy cutting trees and entrenching when we crept up on them. -Their sentinels' were posted on a high .white rock at the top of a steep kbs>’e, but come of our scouts crept up and stabbed them. Then we, flung out the horns of our impi. Suddenly a highpitched quavering cry rang out on the still air. “‘Sezihlangene!’■ (Now they, the horns of the impi have joined.) Tslpfiakathi!’ (They, the enemy, are inside!) ‘Usutnl’ .. “And chanting our wa?icry, ,‘Yemuka ’nkomo ka Baka!’ (Out of the road, my father’s ox!) We charged home. Not a man of the enemy lived to tell the tale.

“But one day word came to our in* duhas. The messengers seemed agitated and our indunas.were obviously disturbed. .They summoned us by our regiments and we sat in a great semicircle, the Zulu umkumbi, for an indaba. When : all was read our chief induna spoke, simply and, earnestly: . . “ * ’Mazulu! You have fought nobly and well. There have been few cowards: among-you. None has been able to stand against you. You have been men 1 Would that all had been as you. But, ’Mazulu, now— now our king has been taken!’ . , ; ' “Tears ran down his; cheeks and’ we all wept like little children whd have lost their mother. “ ‘ ’Mazulu, .'they have taken our king! The war is over. There is nothing to do but disperse. Let every man go to his home. ’Mazulu, my children, farewell!’ ” Nxumalo’s voice trembles with emotion as he relives the scene of over half a century ago.

“What, ’nkosana, fight on when our king was gone? What was the use? We fought for the king. We Were his dogs. When he was gone, what were the dogs to do? Ah, Cetywayo, Cetywayo was a king!”