About six weeks later, in the month of November, 1856, I chanced to
be at Nodwengu when the quarrel between the princes came to a head.
Although none of the regiments was actually allowed to enter the
town--that is, as a regiment--the place was full of people, all of them
in a state of great excitement, who came in during the daytime and went
to sleep in the neighbouring military kraals at night. One evening,
as some of these soldiers--about a thousand of them, if I remember
right--were returning to the Ukubaza kraal, a fight occurred between
them, which led to the final outbreak.
As it happened, at that time there were two separate regiments stationed
at this kraal. I think that they were the Imkulutshana and the Hlaba,
one of which favoured Cetewayo and the other Umbelazi. As certain
companies of each of these regiments marched along together in parallel
lines, two of their captains got into dispute on the eternal subject of
the succession to the throne. From words they came to blows, and the end
of it was that he who favoured Umbelazi killed him who favoured Cetewayo
with his kerry. Thereon the comrades of the slain man, raising a shout
of "Usutu," which became the war-cry of Cetewayo's party, fell upon the
others, and a dreadful combat ensued. Fortunately the soldiers were only
armed with sticks, or the slaughter would have been very great; but as
it was, after an indecisive engagement, about fifty men were killed and
many more injured.
Now, with my usual bad luck, I, who had gone out to shoot a few birds
for the pot--pauw, or bustard, I think they were--was returning across
this very plain to my old encampment in the kloof where Masapo had been
executed, and so ran into the fight just as it was beginning. I saw the
captain killed and the subsequent engagement. Indeed, as it happened, I
did more. Not knowing where to go or what to do, for I was quite alone,
I pulled up my horse behind a tree and waited till I could escape the
horrors about me; for I can assure anyone who may ever read these words
that it is a very horrible sight to see a thousand men engaged in fierce
and deadly combat. In truth, the fact that they had no spears, and could
only batter each other to death with their heavy kerries, made it worse,
since the duels were more desperate and prolonged.
Everywhere men were rolling on the ground, hitting at each other's
heads, until at last some blow went home and one of them threw out his
arms and lay still, either dead or senseless. Well, there I sat watching
all this shocking business from the saddle of my trained shooting pony,
which stood like a stone, till presently I became aware of two great
fellows rushing at me with their eyes starting out of their heads and
shouting as they came: "Kill Umbelazi's white man! Kill! Kill!"