The Maryville Times

A FEAST IN ZULULAND.

The Killing of the Cattle for the Occasion an Exciting Event.

A dozen magnificent long-horned cattle were run into the kraal, and several stalwart warriors followed them in, assegais in hand. Crowding the cattle in a bunch up against the wall, each warrior singled out a victim, and with a mighty thrust plunged the keen, bright blade into the animal's heart.

Generally speaking, the one swift, sure stroke was sufficient, but in two or three cases the stricken animals avoided the death thrust, and, goaded to madness by the deep wound, made matters exceedingly lively for the Zulus for the next few minutes, chasing them frantically about the kraal until some well-hurled assegai brought them to earth. One big steer, horned like a Texan, kept his feet, and fought until a dozen assegai blades were hurled in his body, and in his blind rushing he knocked over a couple of men and ripped one very badly up the thigh.

The whole affair was as exciting as a Spanish bull fight. When they were all killed the crowd, who had been enjoying the fun from the kraal wall, hopped into the arena and assisted in the work of skinning and cutting up. As many as could get around an animal assisted, and one could scarcely imagine a more barbarous spectacle than a horde of Zulus skinning and dissecting a dozen cows. The blood was allowed to remain in the flesh, and men, women and children were seen carrying off the huge pieces of red, quivering flesh slung over their shoulders, with the blood trickling down their sleek, dark skins to their heels.

Children besmeared their faces and bodies for fun, and about each carcass a group of tall, black warriors hacked and slashed, like the savages they were. While the women boiled the beef in big iron kettles, obtained from Natal, the warriors engaged in a big dance.

You can never quite catch the spirit of a Zulu dance by merely hearing it described, any more than you can realize the exhilaration of wine without trying it. The warriors turned out about 300 strong on this occasion, and the dance took place on a level bit of ground outside the kraal. The whole community was gathered in a black mass, squatting in irregular ranks on the grass to see the dance. After the beeves had all been cut up the warriors retired to their huts. Then very shortly they came straggling out again, one by one, the blood washed off, and their bodies decorated with all the gewgaws of war. Many wore kilts of Zanzibar cat tails or the tails of wolves and foxes, and round their calves and biceps were ornaments of bead and of leopard skin. On each warrior's head was a discus of black mimosa gum, polished until it looked like a circlet of jet. With ox hide shields and bright assegais they trooped into the kraal until all were assembled.

Then forming into ranks as natural as a company of grenadiers, they marched out unto the dancing ground, singing a strange, weird chant in accompaniment to the rattle of assegai on shield and measured tramp of feet. One could see at a glance now that every Zulu is a warrior born. Here they were, the veriest savages to all intent, naked as animals, yet playing soldier with a bearing and precision of movement that European troops, with all their scientific training, could hardly hope to beat. Forward they stepped, then filing off into semicircle, two deep they stood, proud and erect, the most splendid specimens of martial manhood I ever saw, their black eyes glistening with suppressed fire, their chests heaving and muscles twitching. - St. Louis Globe-Democrat.