DANUSHIKI

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I saw very large canoes”, he began. “I don’t know if I saw something else, but I know and believe there could be more…”

“You’re not going to do anything Ziali, please don’t be foolish, your time is past…I beg you”.

Harshiri began to cry as she thought of losing her only surviving relative to death, in the hands of fair strangers.

“She’s right Ziali, you’re too old to be throwing spears”.

Ziali laughed at Darjer’s last statement and looked at the three of them with ‘pity’ in his eyes.

“But not too old to fish, yes? You all know me better than this. This is the end for me and I’d never back off from a fight, even if I’m as old as Shaingwa”.

He turned and looked at Sarme with a cynical smile.

“You’re Choshi’s daughter aren’t you?” He clenched the spears in both hands and stared at the surface on which they stood. Harshiri was about to say something as Ziali managed to embraced her, and spoke for the last time.

“Tell Nahre I’m sorry”, he whispered to Darjer. Darkness was slowly giving way for the morning light as he watched his cousin wipe off a tear with the back of her left hand.

“She’d understand, they’d all understand”, Darjer assured him. He knew fully well that their gods and goddesses would rather strike Ziali dead, than waste their time trying to convince him to change his will.       

“I love her, and I’d always love her, but I’ve got to do what I was born to do”.

Ziali didn’t wait for another response, as he turned and began to hurry toward the northern shore through a thick green bush. Tough as he was, he knew he couldn’t stand Harshiri or any other woman cry. He ignored the branches, twigs and shrubs while hurrying towards his destination. After so many years, it was finally time to settle account for that fair stranger Darjer had stopped him from killing.

He suddenly stopped when he realized he was on a small hill overlooking the shore, where four of the ‘large canoes’ were now anchored. He could see from the distance, several men in black clothing coming out, stretching their bodies and looking around. Most of them had hairs on their faces like ash from a fireplace. Birds flew in the early morning sky, while he continued to watch the fair strangers with interest. Some heavy objects on wheels were being arranged on the shore, as they kept looking over their shoulders.

Lying on his belly, he was surprised when everybody and everything down there came to a halt. Ziali was amused when a fair man in black with brown beards on his face, brought out a trumpet from nowhere, and blew into it. He kept blowing the trumpet until a bigger fair man, whom he suspected to be their leader, alighted from a ‘canoe’. Walking closely behind the bigger fair man were ten more fair men. From where he lay with his spears near his head, he observed the appearance of each fair man. They all wore a second belt with a long dark object with a metallic handle hanging by their left sides.

Their leader was clearly distinct from the other men, and carried an air of authority. He also commanded the respect of the other men around him, his fair face notwithstanding. Ziali watched his mouth move in the distance but could make nothing out of it. While he spoke, eleven ‘larger canoes’ began to cover the entire northern shore. Thereafter strange objects were brought out and arranged on the shore. Ziali knew the moment these fair men came out and proceeded into the main part of the island, he would be the first casualty.

Quietly and slowly, he used one of his spears to cut some twigs, shrubs and large leaves, with which he covered his body. Thereafter, he placed his three spears near his reach and hoped no snake would be slithering nearby. 

The golden buttons of his navy blue jacket glittered as he walked around the flag which had just been mounted by two fair soldiers. He ordered the other fair soldiers to hurry up and alight from their respective ships, before setting up the cannons, and loading their rifles. The sun was already high in the sky when most of the soldiers filed out and began to arrange themselves. Among the ‘things’ each carried were a sheathed sword, which hung by their left sides, a rifle affixed with a bayonet. The bloodthirsty soldiers looked impatient and ready to start shooting and slashing while the General waited for the others to join them from their ships. Moments later the General dismissed a fair soldier who’d been polishing his boots. Having been satisfied with with the way his boots shone, he turned and faced the other fair soldiers to commence his brief speech.

“I welcome you all my fellow soldiers and countrymen, this fourteenth day of December thirteen twenty-six. We’ve sailed for more than two months at sea to arrive on this land, the land of diamonds”. The soldiers simply regarded the General’s speech as boring and unnecessary while the gentle waves moved back and forth from the northern shore. His face suddenly became a terrible scowl as he breathed deeply. General Whyte looked around as beads of perspiration appeared on his smooth face.

“Anything that resists, fights back when fought, attacks or attempts to attack should be put to death on the spot. I hope you’re all prepared for battle…by the end of today, all women and children will be left unharmed, alongside the elderly inhabitants”.

A young middle-aged soldier and General Whyte’s nephew, known as Colonel Gabriel Anderson soon came close to the General. He whispered something in the General’s right ear which made him smile and shake his head.

“You are all ordered to kill only when necessary, but the elderly inhabitants, women, children and… unmarried maidens should be ‘left alone’.

His elder brother’s son assisted him to mount a white stallion, as the soldiers broke up in groups of four into Shaingwa. While most of them headed into the island, several others began to set up the cannons and arrange the cannonballs. Colonel Anderson walked closely beside the General’s horse, with his sword drawn, while his rifle was slung over his shoulders. The caliber of soldiers General Whyte had chosen were the most ruthless he could find. They could best be described as beasts due to their sadistic nature, and the ‘joy’ most of them derived in snuffing out life from human beings. They were usually assigned with the task of exterminating anyone or people who were perceived to be enemies of the Queen’s Empire. General Whyte moved the stallion slowly as he thought of Uncle Lyttleton. How he wished he were present, he’d be so proud of him that he’d shed tears.

He soon snapped out of his ‘soft’ thoughts and urged his men forward. They met some Shaingwan women along the way picking snails and gathering vegetables. Upon sighting the strangers, they immediately abandoned what they were doing and ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. General Whyte soon ordered his men to stop before ordering the cannons to be brought forward and lined up. He instructed them to be on red alert as the cannons were rolled out two meters from where the soldiers presently stood.

“This is for you Uncle Lloyd, our dream is finally a reality”. The General muttered to himself, as he stared at the glinting blade of his his nephew’s sword.

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The two thousand warriors of Shaingwa divided themselves into four parts of Shaingwa as the General waited for his instincts to tell him when to strike. Darjer now fully dressed in a white woven robe, held his walking stick firmly, while he stood under a tree with Sarme, Harshiri and Danushiki (Jnr.). He’d have been described as insane for leaving his comfortable house to stand under a tree with the sun shining. Suddenly, he heard an ear splitting noise after General Whyte ordered the first cannon to be fired. The expelled cannonball subsequently landed, and exploded at the same time on the house of a former warrior, who was a presently a widower.

Darjer waited as he clenched his walking stick. His angry wife was now shaking with fear as five hundred warriors ran past them towards the shore. Darjer was slightly relieved as he thought about Ziali and his perceived foolishness. He was snapped out of his thoughts at what he saw in the distance. Forty metres from where he and his family stood, three consecutive explosions occurred on a house, walking path and a small thatch shed. He soon saw many people running towards the centre of Shaingwa, which was a stone throw from High Chief Sharkoti’s compound. The centre of Shaingwa was a large expanse of grass covered plain.The capacity of the centre of Shaingwa was almost three times the capacity of the sacred grove. The next moment, Darjer led his family in the direction of the centre while as his thoughts were divided between Danushiki Snr. and Ziali.

From where he lay, he heard explosions and agonising human sounds. Sometimes he heard the sound of trees falling, or the strange sound of ‘something’ exploding. The atmosphere around him smelt of gunpowder, something he’d never come in contact with before. It smelt so strong, so-

“Blast…” the fair soldier muttered as he tripped over a ‘rock’ and fell on his belly. Thereafter, he picked up his rifle, and adjusted his hat. He wiped off mud from his boots and prepared his rifle. He watched a comrade run forward to shoot a Shaingwan warrior who had thrown a spear at another fair soldier, some few metres ahead. The fair soldier who’d tripped on a ‘rock’ was adjusting the satchel slung over his back when the point of a dark object appeared through his jacket. He dropped his rifle as his vision dimmed in the morning sun. He struggled to say something but only dark blood spluttered out of his mouth with every attempt out of his mouth. The last thing he saw was a dark headed spear landing on the back of his comrade who’d just killed a Shaingwan warrior.

Ziali pulled out the spear from the back of the fair-faced soldier who’d tripped over him, and soon faced an angry one. Ziali’s current opponent was already pulling out his well sharpened sword. He saw the two bodies of his dead comrades on the ground and flew into a rage. While Ziali held the last spear, he saw more fair soldiers hurrying towards him, shouting all manner of things through their noses. Holding the spear with all his strength, though he was clearly outnumbered he proceeded to take one more fair soldier with him to the great beyond.

The next moment he leapt over a large shrub as he saw a fair soldier on one knee with aiming his rifle at him. After the shot rang out, Ziali noticed a cut on his left arm from the sword of a fair soldier who was aiming for his throat. This was followed by several unsuccessful sword movements in the air, as Ziali kept dodging every s***h from the enraged men.

Suddenly, without warning, he launched himself on a particular fair soldier who was preparing to take a shot. He held his right elbow with his right hand before hitting the rifle away in the direction of the previous soldier. Ziali’s nostrils took in the smell of gunpowder again as a rifle fired and killed the man in his grip instantly. This was followed by a red patch at the back of his neck, near the collar of his white shirt. Ziali knew the fair soldier in his grip was dead as he watched his struggling hands fall and swing lifelessly beside his body. The bleeding from the wound on his left arm continued while he clenched his last spear.