He is a charming little fellow and the most privileged personality in all Swaziland, being the only male allowed to attend all interviews and conferences]
The indunas gathered about and I could see the horror in their faces. They knew what was coming, but even then I did not suspect. Tuys looked startled and gazed at Buno as though he could not understand. Down the lines the plumed heads still nodded and after a moment there was silence.
The savage king slipped a clip into his Mauser, the metallic click intensified by the silence. He raised the rifle, sighting down first one line of warriors and then the other. The next instant a shot rang out and a plumed Swazi pitched forward and lay writhing in the sunlight. As Buno threw another cartridge into place, two warriors stepped out and stabbed the fallen warrior.
Four more shots rang out, and at each a plumed head came down, with shield and assegai crashing as they struck the ground. Each warrior was stabbed as he lay, the killers quietly stepping back into the ranks.
It was the most ghastly spectacle I had ever attended. We Boers have always had to fight for our lives and farms, so that sudden death was no novelty to me. But such a slaughter as this!
Buno completed his twenty shots and made three misses. These angered him and he shouted out the equivalent of "I'll get you next time!"
Then came Tuys's turn. He had been thinking rapidly and I had a faint hope that he would find some way out.
"O King, it is not fitting that your warriors should die by my rifle," he said hurriedly. "You are king and their lives are yours; I am but your guest and it is not right that brave men should be killed by one who loves only peace. Let us shoot at other targets. Let us kill cattle so that there may be a feast to-night."
Buno's face darkened. His bloodshot eyes flashed and for a second I thought he would strike Tuys.
"The king commands! Buno, king of the Swazis, commands!" he shouted in a hoarse voice. "Shoot! Shoot and kill more than I did, if you can!"
I was holding Tuys's rifle and he came over to where I was standing. I was so sick with it all that I hardly heard him when he spoke to me hurriedly in Dutch.
"We must go through with it," he whispered. "Kill as few as you can. Shoot them in the head and they'll die quickly!"