CHAPTER TWELVE – CONSPIRACY
That night, as I lay awake pondering the options before me, I made the decision that I would have to follow the instructions of the induna in order to discover more about which was the right path. I sensed that there was something in those words I had heard last night, which if true would lead the impis into mortal danger south of the Limpopo. If this was Lobengula’s plan then maybe Lotshe was right. Maybe this was the only way to stop the madness of the king’s plan. However, I could also see many problems with what Lotshe was doing. What if the scheme was discovered? There were many warriors involved in the mines that could easily let on to the white man what was going on. It would not be the first time that a man had turned to his enemy in exchange for his freedom or for riches.
And what of Lotshe’s own scheme to hold back the flow of diamonds from Lobengula’s coffers? Lobengula was not stupid and he would know after a while that he was not amassing the wealth he was expecting. How could Lotshe hide the fact from his king long enough to persuade him not to fight in the south? Maybe Lotshe was not telling the truth and indeed did intend to rid the Matabele of their king. After all, there were many who were not happy with the choice of Lobengula in the first place and some of these men would have been sensible enough to keep their own council at the time, waiting for a chance to strike back at a later date. Perhaps this was the time they had chosen and perhaps Lotshe was their chosen leader.
All these questions spun round my mind as I stared into the dark night sky. Eventually, though, I decided to join Lotshe’s band for now and see how things worked out. I hoped that I would not be found out in the meantime, as it would be impossible to explain to the king’s men the actions I had decided to take without appearing guilty of treason if I were caught.
I told Langalibelele of my decision the next morning and was surprised to see that Lotshe had left sometime during the night. We set off as the sun rose and headed across the plain. As we travelled, Langalibelele told me of my task, which was firstly to learn about how to sort the stones and then help the couriers from the mines. They had been receiving many worthless stones, taking up time in transporting useless sacks of rock many miles to the place where they sorted and processed them. I, therefore, would work close to the mines, staying out of sight and sorting out any worthless rock before it was carried on the backs of the couriers.
After three days travel, we came to a higher plain, whereupon there were many small, rocky hills with pools of water lying in the shadow of some. I looked into the distance at the distinctive shape of the hills, knowing that I would need to find my way here again without a guide to help me. These hills would provide a useful signpost, so I memorised their shape as we approached one of the larger hills that sprang from the ground as if it had grown there. Nearby were many mopane trees, which I knew produced some of the hardest wood in the land and were difficult to clear. An opening became apparent in the hill, through which we walked. The gap was like a corridor with a narrow entrance, widening and twisting as we made our way through it. From the outside, it looked as if a narrow crack in the rock face narrowed further as it went into the hill. With the cover of some bushes around the entrance, it would be difficult to find. However, what might give it away was the noise that echoed off the rock walls of metal ringing on stone and of men’s voices. The smell of wood smoke hung in the air too, further giving the location away to anyone who might be curious.
I mentioned this to Langalibelele, who merely shrugged and pointed to the higher reaches of the hill where I could vaguely discern lookouts, scanning the horizon.
‘There are also men at many points around this hill,’ he said. The mopane trees give excellent cover, which is one of the reasons this place was chosen.’ Indeed he was right, as the short stubby trees were in full leaf and grew close enough together that any man who wanted to could successfully hide himself in their midst.
As we continued to wind our way through the rock-strewn corridor, the gap widened further until we reached a clearing the size of a large cattle pen back in the kraal. Here, there were many men working to clear piles of rock that covered the space. The walls of this area were vertical and soared straight up, almost seeming to bend inwards the further they climbed. Bushes and tree roots formed a canopy over the top of this canyon, almost blocking the sky from sight. The light that shone down from the sun was dappled and there was an eerie feeling to whole place that made me shiver involuntarily.
At the far end of the clearing was the dark entrance to a cave and it was into this darkness that we now passed. At first, I thought the cave was filled with glow worms as I saw tiny points of light wherever I looked, but as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom I realised that these points of light were in fact the reflections from hundreds if not thousands of diamonds. Everywhere I looked, there were piles of them, sorted for size and in varying states of process. Some either glinted dully or not at all, but some were glistening like raindrops in the sunlight.
Men were seated all around chipping away at rocks, breaking away the dirt and rocky exteriors to expose the treasure inside. If I had been a white man, then the sights in this cave might have overawed me. But wealth to me consisted of cattle and these stones left me unimpressed. Except that I knew from my time in the mine that the quantity here was enormous, much larger than I had ever imagined. There must have been thousands of workers in the mines and pits of the white man risking their lives to bring out tiny quantities at a time in order to amass this quantity. I understood, too, the power that these stones could bring to the man who controlled them. I shivered again, not with superstition, but with real fear of the consequences of what I was doing. I must find a way to warn the king, or at least slow the production down in some way to give me some time before Lotshe would destroy them all.
I was soon put to work helping the other men process the stones and bit by bit, I learned what to look for and what could be discarded. The atmosphere in the cave was oppressive, as everything was guarded and checked several times a day. The men here worked tirelessly, never seeing the sun. We started before dawn and didn’t sleep until the sun had long set. Food was brought to us by other men who toiled over the fires and cooking pots outside in the clearing. I questioned why there were no women to do this work and I was told that women chatter too much and we could not risk any word of this operation escaping.
After several weeks of working here, I was tired of the incessant darkness and yearned to see the sun once again. I went to Langalibelele and asked; ‘Nkosi, it has been many days now that I have toiled here in the darkness. I know these stones well now and can pick the good from the bad just as well as any man here. Will it soon be time for me to travel again to do the work you have chosen for me?’
Langalibelele was impressed with my desire to take up his responsibility, but he stressed the importance of their work to me. They could not risk the slightest chance of word getting back to the king or they would all perish, and probably their families too.
‘My son,’ he said, ‘you have indeed made the right decision by coming here to work with us in this task. However, I must warn you once again of the terrible consequences that you will face if you ever let it what we do be known. The stakes are as high as they could be, as we fight for the existence of our people.’
‘I understand your words and will heed the warning contained within them Nkosi.’ I wondered if the passion with which Langalibelele spoke denoted a true belief in what we did. I had merely assumed they were trying to overthrow the king and seize control for themselves, but now I wondered if perhaps I had misjudged them. Was it possible that they really did believe the future of the Matabele nation was at stake? I had always liked Langalibelele and I had heard his father speak of Lotshe with respect and admiration, so I found it hard to believe they were bad people. These thoughts were troubling for me and I felt as if I was being torn between loyalty to the king, which was paramount to ensure stable governance of the nation, and also this new feeling that things were n
ot always either right or wrong. There seemed to be shades in between of which I had no knowledge and for which I had no plan of attack, no way to deal with their subtle differences.
Now though, Langalibelele looked into my face, and so I tried my best to hide these mixed emotions as I held the older man’s stare.
‘Good!’ the warrior nodded, ‘I can see you are ready, so you will leave here tomorrow.’ Langalibelele turned away to other matters, only a slight frown marking his features.
That night I lay awake near the cave’s entrance, listening to the sounds of the night, which included the snoring of many men. They slept well here, as the work carried out during the day wore them out so that they dropped where they worked and slept the sleep of the dead.
As my mind swept over the rights and wrongs of what was going on, I heard a noise. Instinct told me to remain still until I could identify where it was coming from and what the cause was. I moved my eyes slowly to either side, without moving my head. At the corridor entrance, I saw shadows, moving stealthily, stopping every step before once again moving forward. I knew immediately these were white men because of the way they moved and because of the shape of their clothes in the darkness. I stayed still as they came forward. Across the clearing were several sacks of processed stones waiting to be stored and it was to these that the white men crept. I waited for a cry to go up from the guards, but there was none. I imagined them sleeping at their posts after drinking too much beer earlier that evening. They would suffer the consequences for their laziness and would not have to worry about sleep anymore.
I watched silently as the intruders hunched around the sacks and saw a dull glint as they delved into the nearest bag to inspect its contents. There was a muffled cry, speedily silenced as they realised what they had found. Then they each picked up a sack, slowly hefting it on to their backs before re-tracing their steps towards the corridor.
When they had gone, I stayed motionless for a few more moments, wondering why I hadn’t raised an alarm at what I had seen. I realised that the sacks contained a large proportion of the processed stones and would constitute a serious setback for the operation which was, after all, what I had wanted. On the other hand, these were white men, for whom I kept a low flame of hatred burning. I suddenly decided that I was going to have to move and follow them, knowing that they would not be able to go too far with their heavy loads. If I could wait until they rested, I would have time to work out my next move, whether that be to let them go with their haul or hide the sacks and kill the men, a task I could not immediately think how to accomplish.
Silently, I got up from my sleeping mat and followed the footprints of the thieves. One thing I was sure of was that in the morning, the others would have no difficulty in following their quarry, as they were making no attempt to hide their tracks.
I exited the rocky passageway, carefully checking that I had not been seen either by friend or foe, although I would have been hard put to distinguish between the two at the moment. The moon was thin tonight, providing only a little pale light, which would work to my advantage. I started to move along the tracks that had been left, which even in this faint light were easy enough to spot. As I went, I knew I was catching up and eventually I could see the shadows of the thieves moving ahead and from this point on, it was easier to follow.
We travelled until the sun started to rise and the darkness was banished for another day. At the same time, I looked back and saw a small dust trail far behind. I guessed that the theft had been discovered and knew it would not be long now until the guards caught up, as they would not be worrying about remaining undetected. The men ahead stopped and I could hear the consternation in their voices as they realised they had been found out. There was a rocky hillock up ahead and the men headed for it, depositing their sacks in crevices under the rocks. Then they started to run at right angles to the rocks, I guessed to try and throw their pursuers off the trail of the treasure. Little did they know that there was no way that they would return. Their lives were now forfeit and there was nothing they could do to change that fate.
I started to run after them, looking back as I did so to gauge the position of the others. They had run for some time, mostly across broad, flat rocks poking up from the sandy floor, leaving no trace of their progress. They were catching up now, as the running white men were visible in the early morning light, backlit by the sun. I paced my run so that the others were near when I finally caught up to the men. They turned to fight, as one tripping and falling to the ground. I jumped on the nearest man and as we came together, I recognised the face of the man I had seen before at Kimberley and knew I would one day see again. “I see you” I said. “I am Mboku. I follow the words of Mlimo to who you owe your life. Remember this always.” Then, just for a second, I released my grip to allow the man jump up and run on again. By this time though, the guards from the cave had caught us up and they pounced on the men still struggling to their feet. The other man still ran as his companions fought hard, inflicting some wounds on their attackers before being subdued. Within seconds, the running man saw that he would not get away and he simply stopped and dropped to his knees, surrendering without a fight.
They were all taken back to the cave and trussed tightly; waiting for the return of Lotshe to decide what should be done. A team of men stayed out where the capture had taken place and scoured the area in search of the sacks, but they had no luck. The sacks were some distance away and in a different direction, the rock across which they had scampered, hiding any signs they had been that way at all.
When Lotshe at last arrived, he immediately took over the interrogation of the men, demanding they tell him where they had hidden the sacks. The men though, arrogant and believing that they would eventually be released, refused to tell them anything, shouting angrily at them, wishing them to hell and in turn making demands for their release. All, that is, but the one man who had not fought, who sat quietly in fear for his life, but setting himself somewhat apart from his colleagues.
I watched him closely, wondering about this man with whom I felt such an affinity for no reason I could imagine and who had shown me respect. I had known when I saw his face at Kimberley that our fates would be entwined in some way and I now held a superstitious fear. This fear was not of the man, but of the situation that had set us once again together. At first I was sure that this man had not recognised me and wondered at the significance of this fact as he squatted nearby, just watching. But then he looked directly at me and I knew he remembered and his thoughts were like my own. He too wondered what connected us. He frowned and nodded his head towards the cave entrance silently asking a question. I then understood he had recognised me before and maybe had seen that I had followed alone. I had to decide if I should kill him quickly to stop him saying something or to trust this bond between us and help him.
Suddenly Lotshe entered the cave, smiled at the white men and spoke in their own tongue which I too had learned at the mines.
‘My friends, I hope you are not too uncomfortable here. Please tell me if your ropes are too tight or if the ground is too hard.’
The white men merely looked at him, and I knew they were not fooled for a moment by this false display of concern for their well-being. One of them found some courage from somewhere and once again demanded that they be released immediately. Lotshe slowly turned his head towards him, the smile slipping from his face replaced by a look of pure anger. He said nothing for a moment and then relaxed again before asking, ‘If you tell me where the diamonds are hidden, you will be free. If you don’t then you will not.’
They turned their heads from him, saying nothing almost as if an agreement had been reached between them that they would not divulge their hiding place. I suspected they foolishly believed there was a chance they could get out of this and recover their riches.
Lotshe stood and with a flick of his fly swat, two warriors entered the cave and walked slowly toward the captives. It was at this point that these men were ini
tiated into the realms of hell on earth, their screams echoing around the cave for hours.
When the torture started I looked on in repulsion, yet fascination at the suffering that could be inflicted on a man without causing his death. The two men worked skilfully and thoroughly and I wondered where they had learnt these skills and more importantly, from whom. As I looked, I saw that the man from Kimberley was left alone for much of the time. He had not fought back and so the wisdom was that he would tell what he knew just by seeing the suffering of the others. He must be weaker, they reasoned, so the fear of pain would be sufficient to loosen his lips. I was not so sure though. I sensed the man’s mind bend and sway through the look in his eyes as he watched the horrors all around him and I knew somehow that his mind would not suffer too much before it snapped and they would lose him and all knowledge he held. I recognised the look in his eyes from when a lion had attacked my tethered goats in the village when I was a boy. One goat survived, but had bleated in abject terror while witnessing the carnage all around. After that, the animal had not produced a drop of milk ever again and would constantly butt and bite anyone who came close.
By the evening, there was only one man left alive; the others were unrecognisable as humans, looking for the entire world as butchered meat. The man nearest to the quiet man was the last to die, twitching his way to oblivion; the pain he had suffered must have become his entire existence in those last hours.
Later on that night, though I came to a decision. I knew that they would eventually find the diamonds, as they would simply scour further and further from the place they had been caught until they came across the rocks where the sacks lay. I had to make sure the diamonds were hidden again somewhere else, so that Lotshe’s plans were set back long enough for him to get to the king. The only way I could think of to achieve this was to let the man go hoping that he had the strength of body and mind to make his way back and get away before anyone noticed.
As soon as it was dark then, I made sure everyone was sleeping before I made my way to where the man was tied. His head jerked up as he felt me knife at his wrist, but I quickly covered his mouth with hand. At that moment, our eyes met and we stared at each other in equal amounts of confusion and understanding at this shared fate I knew would come to pass. I quickly cut his bonds and lifted him to his feet. It was more difficult than I had imagined, as he had not completely escaped the torturer’s art and he, too, was bloodied and battered. One more look between us was enough to set him on his way with my help until we had cleared the entrance to the passageway. I once again thanked the spirits for the laziness of the guards who, imagining no further intruders likely and knowing the white men were either dead or severely injured, once again slept soundly at their posts. Lotshe’s mercy had saved them the last time, I thought, but this time they would surely perish and I quickly wiped them from his mind.
Once in the open, I left him to his own devices, making my way back inside where I started to cover my tracks. First, I piled up some blankets where the man had laid, then pulled one of the bodies over, throwing one further blanket over the top in the hope that anything but a close inspection would not discover that the man had gone.
I waited for the sun to start showing its face before raising the alarm and then led the chase, knowing which way he had gone and so able to slow down enough to allow him to escape. We followed him for some days and eventually could see him ahead as we approached the great southern river. As we came to him at the river’s edge, he turned to look, but his eyes were wild and I could see his spirit had already left his body. He fell silently into the waters and we saw him no more. I felt then though that this man would return. The spirits came to me in the night and I understood that this was not finished. The sons of this man and their sons after them and their sons after them would return seeking that which I knew should be lost forever. For, over time I thought hard about the treasure and learned more about the ways of men and politics. I knew that I would need to mislead others as to the secret hiding place. After I had released the white man and then led the chase to the banks of the Limpopo, I truly understood that the greed of man, whatever colour his skin may be, would always cause disorder and destruction. I knew that the future of the Matabele people depended on these stones and that the spirits would ensure they came to the light of day once more when they were most needed: there was no need for men to know more than that. I called upon the spirits to erase the memories of the white man’s family forever, never knowing if my call had been answered.
So when it came time to pass the tale onto my son, I changed the facts to protect the treasure and so the people. If my son or his son’s son ever tried to find the secret place they would have no luck, finding only the empty earth and dust of the African bush.
THE PRESENT