The Matabele Campaign 10

The Matabele Campaign 10

Then another signal came from Thurnall towards evening, to say that numbers of the enemy were making their way out to the rear of the position by a path that was out of his range; so, leaving word with Prince Teck to bring on some of the 7th to that point, I got a fresh horse, and, accompanied by Jackson, the Native Commissioner, once more made my way round to the back of the mountain. In passing by the little party that I had left there in the morning, we took three of them on with us, and, riding along the well-worn tracks of the natives, we got into a labyrinth of small valleys at the back of Wedza's mountain. Then, leaving our horses concealed, we clambered up on to the ridge, looking into the heart of the stronghold from the rear. Kaffirs were all about near us, but not in any large number,--single men here and there on the look-out, women and children gathering up their goods, evidently preparatory to making a move; but we could see no large parties of them going away as yet, nothing that we could attack if we brought a force round there; however, we saw the position of their main paths toward the mountains to the north and eastward, and just about sunset we came down again, and made our way back. Owing to the broken nature of the country at this point, we were forced to carry out what I always consider a most dangerous practice, and that is, to return by the same path which you used in coming, and the danger of it was practically demonstrated on this occasion. Riding quietly along in the dusk, we had just got out of the bad part, thinking all danger was over, when there was suddenly a flash and a crash of musketry from a ridge of rocks close to us, dust spurted up all round, and a swish of bullets whizzed past our heads. My hat was violently struck from my head as if with a stick, and in an instant we were galloping across the thirty yards of open which separated us from a similar parallel ridge; dismounting here, we were very soon busy replying to the firing of the enemy, whose forms we could now and again see silhouetted against the evening sky. We had had a marvellous escape; Jackson himself had been grazed on the shoulder, his horse had a bullet-hole in its temple, the bullet had lodged in its head, and beyond possibly a slight headache, the gallant little horse appeared to be none the worse. Our position here was not too good a one: the enemy were evidently a fairly strong party, and would merely have to work among the rocks, a little to the right, to cut us off from rejoining our main body. Moreover, they had practically possession, or, at least, command of fire over my hat, which I badly wanted. But it looked as though we ought at once to be making good our retreat, if we meant to go away at all. We were just mounting to carry this out, when out of the gathering darkness behind, there trotted up a strong party of hussars, under Prince Teck, who, hearing the firing, had at once hurried to the spot; his coming was most opportune, and reversed the aspect of affairs. After a few minutes of sharp firing, the rocks in front of us were cleared and occupied by our men, and my hat came back to me. [Illustration: 7TH HUSSARS AT WEDZAS Our small party of scouts in getting engaged with a stronger party of the enemy stood some chance of being cut off by them. But just as we were thinking of effecting our retreat, a party of 7th Hussars, under Prince Teck, came opportunely on the scene.] Teck then posted piquets for the night, extending all round the left flank and rear of the enemy's position. These piquets built fires at intervals, which were kept alight throughout the night by patrols moving from one to the other. Thurnall had similar instructions to light fires on heights round the northern end of the stronghold; while the men in camp did the same on the plain in front of the central portion of the position. This was done with a view to making the enemy believe that our force was a very large one, encamped on every side of them, and they evidently quite took this view of the case, for during the night they made frequent sallies against one fire after another, never venturing to attack it, but, as a rule, pouring in a sudden volley from a short distance, and then retiring, probably boasting that they had killed untold numbers of the white devils sleeping round their fires. As a matter of fact, the white devils were specially ordered not to sleep or to remain in the neighbourhood of the fires for that very reason. But our men had a hard night of it, for they had orders not to let the enemy rest, and they carried out their orders well; patrols were constantly on the move opening fire now and then from unexpected points. Sometimes they could see the lights of the enemy moving about among their kraals, and these they fired on as a matter of course, but often they fired without any actual object to aim at, merely with a view to keeping up the enemy's state of alarm. It was moonlight up till four in the morning, so that any moves on the party of the enemy in force could easily be seen by our scouts, but none took place; but so soon as the moon set, bands of them were reported getting away by the paths leading towards the mountains. _16th October._--As soon as there was light enough, we began to hammer away with the 7-pounder, the Maxims, and Nordenfeldt, taking each koppie and its kraal in turn. Through the glass I could see the natives move from the kraals into the caves, and when we shelled these, we could see them stealing away through the rocks and bush, evidently anxious to make their escape. Then I sent up the party of volunteers who had joined us from Belingwe to assist Thurnall. He then advanced along the ridge, attacking the koppies in turn after they had been shelled, and very soon the flames shot up, and a cloud of smoke rolled out, showing far and near that the first of the villages was taken. This was Wedza's own particular kraal, and in it were found large numbers of Matabele arms, which showed that Wedza's people, although of the Makalaka race, were assisted by a number of Matabele warriors. In this kraal was also found a large store of stolen dynamite, and Thurnall was not slow to make use of it; for presently, with a splendid boom, the koppie on which the kraal stood was blown to smithereens. [Illustration: WEDZA'S KRAAL A village and granaries on the top of a mountain peak. The only path stockaded and defended by loopholes from caves, with which the mountain is undermined.] [Illustration: "LITTLE MISS TUCKET SAT BY A BUCKET" A small girl and her puppy, captured at Wedza's stronghold (on the mountain in the background). She was content to sit for hours by a bucket, and play with empty meat-tins.] While the mounted infantry were thus taking the kraals in succession, the hussars were recalled from their outlying positions around the stronghold; and, though pretty well fagged out with the almost incessant work of the last twenty-four hours, they eagerly volunteered to clamber up the mountain and take part with the mounted infantry in completing the destruction of the stronghold; and Major Ridley, with his usual energy, led them up there. All through the heat of the day they were at work, over most awful ground and clambering on to inaccessible peaks, to effect the complete destruction of the enemy's villages and the clearing of their grain stores. It was not till after dark that they were all safely down again, with their work well accomplished, and the blazing evidences of it gleaming out their message to all the rebels for miles round. _21st October._--Excuse bad writing; but the light is waning; it is sunset, the yellow-red sky is cut by the black skyline of the next ridge and its wooded crest in strong silhouette. Looking from my lair, through the frame of great black tree-stems, our bivouac fires in the gully just below look like ragged bits of the orange-coloured sky dropped into the dark abyss of the bush, and their blue misty wreaths of smoke rise slowly on the breathless air like a circle of ghostly sentries. The men are busy at their evening meal, the murmur of their voices and the crunching of the horses, with their muzzles deep in looted corn, are only sounds that go to emphasise the stillness of the forest. Overhead, in the darkening sky, "Celangobi" (C stands for a Matabele click, with a sound of Kts), the matron evening star, beams calmly on our rest; but, over her shoulder, little, laughing stars are already twinkling at the humour of the thing, for they can see her peaceful gleam glinting sharply from the rifles and sword-scabbards on the ground below; the peace of the scene is but the peace of the hour--to-morrow there will be war again.--What nonsense it is to write all this! but when one is tired, it is as when one is ill: one likes to review such trifles in a dreamy way. I am tired,--we all are tired,--nature herself seems tired to-night. And we've some reason for it. On the evening of the 19th, we (a party of forty mounted men, hussars and mounted infantry) moved out from camp without encumbrances, but taking two days' rations in our wallets, to follow up Wedza's people in their flight through his country, and to harry them into submission. An evening march, off-saddle in the woods, and on again at 3 a. m. No pipes nor talking as we pass along the foot of the rocky ridge on which the rebels have their kraals. Then clamber up on foot, lugging our horses after us, along the steep and rocky cattle track. No cattle now are here--the spoor is old. We break up into small patrols, to each of which is assigned a bit of mountain and its kraals. With my patrol we have a weary trudge--for only twenty per cent. of the men have boots still fit for walking--(and I am one of the remaining eighty per cent.; my feet are partly through the soles and on the ground; I go, like Agag, "treading delicately"). We see no kraal; but the fresh spoor of men, women, and children lies before to guide us. It turns and leads into the boulders on the mountain-side. There, just round the corner of a rock, one spies the eaves of a thatched hut, and, close beside a cave, a few dead branches show there is a cattle kraal. We press through thorny bush, and clamber up the slippery granite path, some men working up the right and others up the left. Behind some rocks we come upon a few huts, all empty but for some calabashes of water and some fetish rags. Then a nasty slit between the rocks has to be approached with care, or others stepped across in haste--these are the caves in which Mashonas love to lie when danger visits their kraal. The caves are labyrinths of little passages between the rocks below the ground; and a few men with guns, well posted, can hope with ease to stop a host of enemies. The path leads up a kind of stair of rocks to a gap between two heavy boulders, and in the gap is fixed a strong stockade of roughly-trimmed saplings. To either hand, interstices between the rocks have been blocked up with stones, and made into loopholes. These defences are without defenders--and we are soon among the better huts of the kraal proper, and among the corn-stores. Each man carries an empty nose-bag, and as soon as these are filled, and some errant chickens killed with sticks, and curios taken from the huts, we burn the kraal, commencing on the windward side. There is a roar, as the pillar of flame shoots up its twenty feet into the sky, the pots and calabashes crack up from heat with the report of pistols, and in a few minutes the village is a heap of smoking ruins--a warning far and near to watching rebels. After burning two such kraals, we make our way back to the horses, the whole patrol reassembles and continues its march, having destroyed five kraals among us. Through woods and stony hills into the Sabi Valley. Off-saddle by a convenient water-hole, for breakfast and midday rest. On again in the afternoon, to a bold, upstanding, solitary peak, a regular acropolis, on the top of which are clustered the huts of Monti's stronghold. Keeping under cover of the woods, we divide into two parties, and rapidly surround it. Dismount; and half an hour's arduous climb brings us past caves and barricades up to the summit. Nobody there! Splendid view, fine kraal, good huts; fill our nosebags and baskets, clear out, light up, and gingerly, among the sharp stones, down we go again, to the music of the crackling huts behind us. Then through the forest--up over stony mountains--alternately walking and riding--to ease our worn-out nags. Over the Fisu range; then down into an ideal cattle-robbers valley, full of kloofs and glades, with a grassy, marshy bottom. Cliffs tower up on either hand, and from their tops we can hear the rebel look-outs shouting their warning of our approach, confound them! They soon know miles ahead that we are there--and the path is far too bad for night marching! [Illustration: TIRED OUT Prince Alexander of Teck (from Life). The Prince never spared himself when there was work to be done, and after a heavy spell of night-work he would just lie down on the ground and recuperate himself with a good sleep--too tired to be disturbed by the flies playing about his bare legs or by the ants entering through the gaping slits in his boots.] At sundown we off-saddle and bivouac for the night where the gorge opens out a little. High above us towers the rocky Mount Ingona, on the top of which we see the kraal of chief Masunda. At dusk voices can be heard in all the rocks around us. It looks as though we were in for an attack--but the niggers vanish like smoke when a patrol goes out to investigate. Lights are seen flitting about Masunda's kraal, so we shout to them not to disturb themselves, that if they like to come and talk, we will not fight them. No reply. Consequently, after coffee at 3 a. m. this morning, we started on foot to clamber up the mountain. The path was steep and the boulders slippery, but we are getting fit at mountain-climbing--still it took us nearly an hour to reach the top. An ordinary kraal, with stone and stockade defences, all abandoned. And such a glorious view of the wooded mountains of this Belingwe district, with the many blue ribbons of streams between, so different from the usual South African scenery. We helped ourselves to all the corn that we could carry, as well as to some little bits of loot, such as a Kaffir piano and some tambourines--the piano being a small flat board on which is fixed a row of iron tongues, and these when struck give each a different note of soft, metallic sound. We also found some small hard-wood tablets, which are the "cards" by which witch-doctors tell one's fortune. Then we set the village in a blaze, and made our way down from the breezy height to our tiny laager by the stream below. Got our horses, saddled-up, and after clambering and lugging them over a rocky ridge, we got into the lower valley of the Sabi--a wooded plain, in the centre of which there stood a fine acropolis with another kraal on top. Surrounded it. As usual, no one there, but lots of fresh spoor--people evidently gone to earth in the caves below. So we sat down to bathe, breakfast, and sleep (for which the heat, flies, and ants were too much), while the horses grazed. We had already done a pretty good day's work, but at 2 p. m. we paraded for the koppies, in three parties to take the different villages, and in half an hour three fine bonfires were raging, and with more corn in our nosebags and a few chickens at our "saddle-bows," we rode away to the part of the valley that belongs to our old friend Wedza. Here he had his Counting-house-_i.e._ his residential and farming kraals. The former was a fine, well-built kraal, very neat and clean, but so well concealed among the rocks that it took our patrol some time to find it. In this kraal, as in many others we had visited, there was a forge for making nominally hoes, but really assegais. The sharpening-stones lying about proved the latter. The furnace, which is of clay, is in every instance built on this model, which is a very ancient one. Doesn't Bent say Phoenician? [Illustration: A SMELTING FURNACE Used by the Makalakas for iron-smelting for the manufacture of assegais, etc. This form of furnace is said to be of ancient origin.] The same march we passed by one of the many ancient (Phoenician) ruins. A small circular fort on a smooth rock; walls, and except where pulled down intentionally, in wonderfully good preservation. Dressed stones without mortar, and the well-known form of ornamentation; a course of herringbone, tile-like stones, and a dice-board course. A theory about these forts is, that since they extend in a chain round the gold districts, in which are remains of ancient workings, they were probably built with the object of simplifying the labour question, and keeping the workers in and the agitators out. Couldn't something of the sort be devised for the benefit of England? [Illustration: ANCIENT RUINS Several walls and forts of ancient origin are to be seen in Rhodesia, sparsely dotted about the country, and usually in the neighbourhood of gold districts.] Our rations were now at an end; all this clambering of koppies had not only pretty well tired us out, but had taken many hours to accomplish; so that evening found us still a long way from the camp near Wedza's stronghold, and we bivouacked, as I began by saying, under the eye of Celangopi on the forest hillside, as tired as dogs. We reckoned that a twelve-mile ride next morning would bring us to breakfast at camp. But it didn't. _22nd October._--After making a very early start, on such tea and scraps of bread as we had been able to save, we arrived by eight o'clock, very tired and empty, at the foot of Wedza's mountain. From this (eastern) side it looked not unlike Gibraltar in shape and size; and we really felt a bit pleased with ourselves at ever having had the presumption to go for this place, not to mention at having succeeded in taking it. As we passed round the foot of it, we rather pressed on the pace, in the hopes of breakfast, and in doing so we let three native boys, belonging to Jackson, the Native Commissioner, drop rather behind us. Some lurking rebels were quick to see this, and had a few shots at them (one boy afterwards said that a bullet passed between the top of his ear and his head!), and compelled the boys to drop their bundles, which included Jackson's mess-kit, blankets, and, worst of all, a few rounds of ammunition. We were too far ahead to render assistance till too late. At last we reached our camp-ground. There were the camp-fires cold and white, meat-tins, etc., in profusion, but no camp. A letter from Ridley hanging from a post informed us that in our absence a message had come from Colonel Paget, saying he wanted us to co-operate with him against Monogula near Gwelo, and that, therefore, he (Ridley), as next senior, had moved camp in that direction. We were just about played-out. But we hoped to find him at the next water, six miles on, and so we struggled on. No; here was another note, saying he had moved a few miles farther on! We off-saddled and sat down, some only to think, others to express their thoughts in words. Then I found a little tea, and Jackson some Boer meal (coarse flour). Of the latter we made a really very good porridge, and had a few spoonsful round and a sip of tea, and on we went through good-looking rebel country, kraals on koppies, that I had always meant to reserve as our _bonne bouche_--and now they had already been warned by the sight of the waggons, and we were unable to go and tackle them through physical inability. Twelve more miles, many of them on foot, driving our horses over hot, shimmering plains--and at last, in the afternoon, we reached our waggons and our food. That night, Ferguson (A.D.C.) rode into camp with a note from the General, telling me to co-operate with Paget (which we were already on our way to do), and also bringing a note from some natives he had passed on the way, which was to the effect that they were messengers from Wedza and Matzetetza, who, after the destruction of their strongholds, had now changed their tone, and were both anxious to surrender, together with their people. So all our toil had not been without effect, and the sixty-mile patrol was rewarded. CHAPTER XVI CLEARING THE MASHONA FRONTIER _25th October to 15th November_ Filthiness is next to Healthiness--Through the Selukwe District--We join Colonel Paget's Column for the Attack on Monogula's--On visiting the Stronghold we find it deserted--We clear and destroy the Place--Gwelo--The Difficulties of a Commandant--The End of the War in Matabeleland--We are ordered to Taba Insimba--Enkledoorn Laager--Night March--We attack Taba Insimba (Magneze Poort)--Doctoring wounded Enemies--A Patent Syringe--I return to the General--Smoking on Sentry. For the next four days we have continued our march,--practically across country, as there were a few cart-tracks, some leading right and some wrong, but I had got the right landmarks from one of Jackson's boys before he left us (which he did at the end of our patrol). We now left his--the Belingwe--district and got into the Gwelo country. _25th October._--Although it's Sunday, which we generally make a day for divine service and for rest, we have had to put in a lot of marching in order to get to Paget in fair time. One cannot reckon on doing so many miles a day in this country; you can only say it will be so many hours. For instance, it took us five hours to do two miles two different days in this march, _i.e._ in making drifts over bad rivers like the Singweza and the Lundi. We are a wonderfully dirty and ragged-looking crew now--especially me, because I left Buluwayo six weeks ago to join this column only with such things as I could carry on a led pony (including bedding and food). My breeches and shirts are in tatters, my socks have nearly disappeared in shreds. Umtini, my Matabele boy, has made sandals for me to wear over--or at least outside--my soleless shoes. And everywhere the veldt has been burnt by grass-fires--every breeze carries about the fine black dust, and five minutes after washing, your hands and arms and face are as grimy and black as ever--as if you were in London again. Bathing "the altogether" too often is apt to result in fever. Too much washing of hands is apt to help veldt sores to originate--so we don't trouble to keep clean. Veldt sores bother nearly every one of us. Every scratch you get (and you get a good number from thorns, etc.) at once becomes a small sore, gradually grows, and lasts sometimes for weeks. It is partly the effect of hot sun and dry air too rapidly drying up the wound, and also probably the blood is not in too good a state from living on unchanging diet of tinned half salt beef and tinned vegetables. We have very little variety, except when we loot some sheep or kill a buck. No vegetables, and we are out of sugar, tea, cocoa, and rice. [Illustration: A DANGEROUS PRACTICE Washing, although indulged in as a luxury, is not to be commended as a practice on the veldt. Bathing "the altogether" is apt to bring on fever, and too frequent washing of the hands and face is apt to render them susceptible to veldt sores.] Matches are at a premium, pipes are manufactured out of mealie corn-cobs and small reeds. Tobacco is very scarce--tea leaves were in use till the tea came to an end. _26th October._--We struck the Gwelo-Victoria road, and it seems quite strange to be once more in civilised (!) country, and not to have to find our own way over every river, and not to be on the look-out for lions at night, etc. Even the spoor of natives fails to excite us much, as most of them about here appear to be giving in. But we hope we may not be too late to help Paget have a final slap at Monogula--one of these koppie-holding gentry who has not yet experienced a bombardment by artillery. It is delightful marching among the hills of this Selukwe district; they are well wooded, and run up here and there into mountains. A lot of the trees are still in their autumn tints, while the others are just budding out (for it is spring here), the young grass is greenifying the low-lying land, and even the black burnt veldt is now brightened up with a great variety of wild flowers--these are what I call bluebells, cowslips, dandelions, snowdrops, sweet peas, sweet williams, convolvulus, and poppies, and many more. Not that they are these flowers actually, but as they have some faint resemblance, I like to be reminded by them of the English flowers. And the woods are cheery with the chirp and whistle of the birds, and though there are no songsters among them, there is a fellow whose note is like a robin, another like a chaffinch, and, best of all, one who distantly resembles a thrush. And overhead the trilling pipe of a big brown hawk brings back at once the glaring heat of India. And then the peeps, between the trees of wooded peaks beyond show one such colours as can't be found in paint-boxes. Where would you get that pearly lilac of the lit-up face of the rock or the pure deep blue of the shadows? All about among the hills are gold reefs pegged out with notice-boards, and near them the wattle and daub houses of miners--all deserted and looted, but not burnt. _27th October._--The roads are awful for our wretched mules, so hilly, stony, and dusty, but we have struggled on, and at last, on the 27th, we have joined Colonel Paget's column. This column consists just now of merely a squadron of 7th Hussars, the West Riding Mounted Infantry being away on patrol. Such a breakfast they gave us on arrival, with milk (tinned), fish, jam, etc. etc. Beautiful camp under the trees. English mails and newspapers, the first for a month. News of Nansen's return, and of my brother George bringing Nansen home in his yacht _Otaria_, just what I had hoped Admiral Markham was going to do, taking me with him; we talked of it two years ago. [Illustration: A ROADSIDE INN IN MATABELELAND Passing, in the Selukwe district, an inn which had been looted but not burnt by the rebels, the comic man of the mounted infantry acted the part of landlord with the aid of a board and a couple of empty bottles.] In the course of the day two messengers from N'dema (one of the two great rebels of this district) came in to say that he had heard of Wedza's being knocked out of his stronghold, and so had come to surrender, and soon after N'dema himself, and five of his chiefs arrived. They were soon sent off to Gwelo under escort. In the afternoon I went with Paget, Carew, and others, to have a look at Monogula's stronghold from a distance. It did not look a very desperate place. _28th October._--I started off with Carew, 7th Hussars, and a party of ten men, and my orderly Parkyn, to call on Monogula. We went by moonlight, so that he should not be alarmed at our numbers. On arriving near the stronghold soon after daylight, the escort hid in the bush, and, leaving our rifles with them, Parkyn and I rode out into the open in front of the kraal, and, waving a towel as a flag of truce, we told the rebels we were men of peace come to talk with them--that the men of war were not far behind us, and would be there before another sun rose, unless they (the rebels) came to talk over the situation. The great White Queen was getting a little vexed with Monogula; all the other chiefs of note had surrendered or been licked except him: if he did not now take this chance of surrendering, he would be knocked out and his lands given to another, etc. etc. Most eloquent we were! but all in vain. Our shouts only roused up birds from their feeds of spilt grain in the kraal. There was no reply, nor was there any fresh spoor on the many paths. We went closer and closer up on the rocks,--nobody fired at us--they were not there! We had a good look round, and then returned to report to Colonel Paget, who had meanwhile moved up the laager to within three miles of the place. When blazing midday was over, the men and the 7-pounder were moved out to the stronghold. The gun fired half a dozen shells into the place, and the 7th Hussars then advanced along the ridge into the kraal, while I came up from below with the Mounted Infantry. Suddenly there was an outburst of firing in the kraal above us as we scaled the height--I knew it was the 7th Hussars firing into it as a precautionary measure before entering, but the Mounted Infantry supposed that the enemy had been found, and it was a treat to see them dash forward, each man taking his own line, and eager to be first up the rocky face of the koppie, and they were very disgusted to find nobody to fight when they got to the top. A few weeks ago there had been a different tale to tell. A patrol of 7th Hussars under Captain Carew had then got up to the wall that defended the main kraal. One man was shot dead close to the wall, when his companion, without a second's pause, mounted the wall, and pistolled the firer of the shot. The body of the white man was taken by his comrades to their camp, eight miles away, and buried there with honours. But when our column passed that way two days ago, the cross was there, but the grave yawned wide and empty. The enemy had been there since, and, as they often do, had taken out the corpse to make up fetish "medicines" for themselves. The caves under this koppie were typical of the usual thing met with now. You creep in through a narrow little hole, down crevices between rocks--every here and there a crevice leading to the open air gives you light, and a chance of shooting anybody passing by or looking in from outside. Then you come to a roomy cave, from which other tunnels lead out downwards to more caves--the tunnel being occasionally a perpendicular shaft of 20 or 30 feet, which is negotiated by means of a tree-trunk roughly made into a ladder. The caves and their passages worm about inside the koppie, with frequent peeps and bolt-holes to open air, and so are grand refuges for a few desperate rebels. In Monogula's we placed thirty-four cases of dynamite, and at one grand burst blew up the whole koppie, so that where there had been hill there remained but a crater. [Illustration: A CAVE STRONGHOLD Elevation and section of the same koppie, showing the caves shaded.] The natives, when they return, will scarcely recognise the site of their once famous stronghold, and they will acknowledge that the white man's God is stronger than their own M'limo. Previous to demolishing the caves, we had of course removed, for our own use, the stores of grain which had been stowed away for the rebel garrison. In searching for this grain, the men had lighted on a place in which the bodies had been thrust of those rebels who had fallen when our last patrol had visited the kraal, and, to our satisfaction, we now found that nine were killed, and among them two Cape Boys, one of whom, Hendricks by name, was noted as a rifle-shot. He had two bullets through his head; so the shooting of the hussars must have been pretty straight for the few minutes they were at it! Indeed, the shooting of the Imperial troops in this campaign has been particularly good, and has won the admiration of the Dutchmen fighting with us. _29th October._--My patrol being now over, the mounted infantry started to-day for their march down country to take ship for India, and I was right sorry to part from so good a lot of soldiers. I only wished that they could have had reward for all their keenness and hard work--in the shape of a really good fight with the Matabele. I, myself, now took my way to Gwelo, to be examined by a Court of Inquiry as to why I had sanctioned the execution of Uwini. My only defence is, that it was the only right thing under the circumstances. In connection with what I had done in the case of Uwini, I was rather struck by reading to-day, anent the siege of Delhi, the following remark by John Nicholson to an officer who had said to him, "It is hard, sir, when one has fagged horses and men to death, to be told that one has exceeded orders." "If you served under me," were Nicholson's words, "that would be impossible; my instructions are, always to do everything that can be done." Gwelo is on a bare, open flat, with a sea-like horizon of veldt. Half a dozen small houses dotted about at two hundred yards apart. A crowded collection of corrugated iron rooms within a rampart of logs and earth forms the fort--kept very clean and neat, which is a change from Buluwayo. But, otherwise, there is not much to commend Gwelo to the artist, traveller, or temperance man. Major Thorold in command has done wonders in bringing order into the place, and his officers (local forces) ably support him, and--have a very well-done mess. But the command of Gwelo is no sinecure. There are "lawyers" in the camp. The following are among their ebullitions:--Copy of cablegram to Secretary of State, which would have gone, but that the would-be sender was fourpence short of the ￡24 required for its transmission. "Man named Thorold questioned my sobriety this morning, and called doctor to decide. Doctor drunk himself, could not decide. I said, willing to put in resignation, as a man is not a machine.... WHO IS THIS THOROLD?" Another man telegraphed to headquarters, to ask "When will Gwelo force be disbanded? Without competent officers it is only a farce. Have applied to be discharged; application simply ignored!" The General had telegraphed to me to await him here, as he would shortly be _en route_ for Salisbury, calling at Gwelo on the way. All war is now over in Matabeleland--and Wedza's may be said to have been the final blow. Plumer's corps near the Matopos, and Robertson's Cape Boys have been disbanded, and the 7th Hussars are ordered into rainy-season quarters at Buluwayo. But in Mashonaland the rebels still hold out, and now and then a wire arrives to tell of further fights. And one I heard of on arriving here was of saddest interest about Major Evans of Alderson's Mounted Infantry, who came out from England with me. I knew him well on board, and two days before we sailed he had married.... In his first action he fell, shot through the heart. Of the officers of this Mounted Infantry who came out with me, several others have been hit in action, viz. Captain Sir Horace MacMahon, Lieutenants French and Eustace. _3rd November._--Gwelo is said to have a great future before it, but hasn't much of a present--a little of it goes a long way. Combined with this, a lion had killed two donkeys on the road five miles S.E., and seven lions had been seen five miles N.W., this morning, so I determined to spend my next few days of waiting for the General in an outing for shooting lions. At 2 p. m. I was to start, horses, etc., all ready packed with food and blankets. At 1 p. m. arrived a telegram from the General, saying that some rebels were reported in the Insimba Hills, near Enkeldoorn, seventy miles N.E. from Gwelo on the Salisbury road, and directing that either Paget or I should take a column of two hundred there without delay. Nothing would have suited us better. Being all ready to start, Paget sent me off to divert the 7th Hussars, who were expected this afternoon from the Selukwe, on to the Salisbury road, while he (Paget) followed on that road direct with extra supplies. So that night found one again in camp on the war-path. [Illustration: OUR HORSES The grey is the sole survivor of my five horses. Prince Teck is the officer holding him.] The next few days were spent marching through green bush country and open grass vleis, uninhabited except by game. Being now a sort of "serrefile" or hanger-on to the column, as Paget had come in command, I had lots of time to amuse myself, riding at a distance from the column with my gun ready. We saw wildebeeste, hartebeeste, ostriches, sable and roan antelopes, etc. Carew and I got two beauties of the latter on the 5th, and these supplied the whole camp with fresh meat. I got also a very fine tiger-cat (almost like a small leopard). The longest march seems short when one is hunting game. Your whole attention is fixed at the same time on "distant views," and on the spoor beneath your nose. Your gun is ready, and every sense is on the alert to see the game. Lion or leopard, boar or buck, nigger or nothing, you never know what is going to turn up. And what an appetite one has at the end of a twelve-mile march, when the folding mess-table is set up, and the Indian cook of the 7th has produced his excellent repast! My only trouble is that I have lost two of my three horses; they broke loose from camp in the night, and strayed, poor starving brutes, in search of grass, and could not be found. And my remaining horse is very thin and weak. However, I got a pair of veldt schoen (Dutch shoes) at Gwelo, and so can do much of the march on foot now. Another blow to me is the loss of Diamond, my Zulu boy, who wants to go home. I offered to take him to Beira, and to pay his passage home from there--but no, he must go back _via_ Buluwayo. Why? Because he has a lot of money there,--his savings,--which he has hidden, and no one else can find them. I didn't know till to-day how to fry liver and bacon--the liver, after being cut in thin strips, should be dipped into a plate of mixed salt, pepper, and dry mustard, before going into the frying-pan. A small matter, but it makes a difference. We journey on by Iron-Mine Hill, Orton's Drift to Enkeldoorn, seventy miles from Gwelo, and forty from Charter. Meantime, my clothes are in tatters. I remember a lady at a fancy dress ball at Simla figuring as a "beggar maid." She was dressed in a black frock with bits of flesh-coloured silk stitched on to it here and there to look like _holes_! Many people said it was rather _chic_ (some using the soft _ch_, others the hard). I am in the same state, only there is no need to stitch on flesh-coloured silk, and I don't know that I look very _chic_; but it's curious to find oneself getting sunburnt in an entirely new place: when bathing, I found that my right knee and thigh have their beautiful alabaster-like surface marred by eight irregular blotches of ruddy sunburn! Rain has been threatening occasionally. Two or three days have been most oppressively hot, and clouds have gathered at nightfall, with mutterings of thunder, and distant lightning. We have put our waterproof sheets ready on going to bed, and sometimes have spread the waggon-sails over the waggons, and have gone to sleep dreaming of the fate in store for us campaigning in wet weather, with the roads impassable for mud, and the drifts unfordable for days together. But we have waked at dawn to find a bright, clear sky overhead, and the promise of another sunny, breezy day. But the rains are evidently not far off. _9th November._--Reached Enkeldoorn, just three huts forming a coach change-station, on open, rolling downs. The laager made by the Dutch farmers of the surrounding district is three miles distant. At Enkeldoorn I have been lucky enough to find a covered waggon standing abandoned (one wheel smashed), and have taken possession of it as my house, since the weather is very boisterous and promises rain to-night. _P.S._--The promise was fulfilled--it rained hard, and I was happy. I liked the tilt of my waggon so well, that when we marched next day I took it with me; a frame of poles made it into a very comfortable tent in camp. _10th November._--We moved to near the Dutch laager, and interviewed the Native Commissioner and others. The laager a most impregnable jam of waggons, strengthened with palisades, sandbags, etc., and surrounded by an entanglement of reims and barbed wire. It was full of women and children and Boers (two hundred of them), from all the farms within a circle of twenty miles round. These farmers brought over two thousand oxen (one man told me seven thousand) to the laager when the rebellion broke out, and now there were but seventy left--such is Rinderpest. The people in the laager lived on fresh meat very largely, the men going out daily to shoot game. A pile of skulls and horns of sable and roan antelope, wildebeeste, etc., showed how successful they had been. The boys of the laager seemed to be fitted out with hats of such a size that they would have to be grown into, and would then do for them in their grown-up years. The young idea was also learning to shoot by using crossbows, and it was interesting to see what good positions they got into for firing in the quickest manner, using aim and trigger just as with a gun. A crossbow should be an excellent instrument for teaching the elements of rifle-shooting. [Illustration: THE YOUNG IDEA LEARNING TO SHOOT The little Dutch boys practise shooting at a mark (generally an empty meat-tin) with the crossbow. With this weapon the aim and the use of the trigger are very much the same as with the rifle, and in this way they become good shots.] The Boer pig-sty is a simple one. A round hole in the ground, eight feet across, four feet deep; the pig, once in, can't get out. A dry ox-hide, laid over one side of the hole, serves as a shelter from sun or rain. Leaving our waggons (except two with rations, etc.) at Enkeldoorn that evening, we marched a few miles in the direction of Taba Insimba, and bivouacked at nightfall. Taba Insimba (Mountain of Iron) is a long wall-like range, with a slice cut through it at one point, looking much like the canal through the Isthmus of Corinth. In this cutting or pass, or, as the Dutch call it, "poort," the rebels are said to be living in caves in the cliffs, strongly barricaded with stone walls--about eight hundred of them--very defiant. Soon after our reaching Enkeldoorn they had signalled our arrival with smoke-fires. The place is twenty-five miles from Enkeldoorn, but our horses and mules are not up to dashing to the place, so we have come as light as possible, carrying two days' rations on our saddles, and leaving the waggons to follow. Twenty Boers from the Enkeldoorn laager are with us, and also about a hundred friendly natives with Taylor, the N.C. _11th November._--Marched all morning, rested all the day, and marched on again after dark, across the wide, perfectly-open flats, till, by 10 p. m., we were within a mile of the place, and then we off-saddled and bivouacked--no talking nor smoking allowed. At 2.30 we were roused up, and formed into our places for the attack. I like the weird, subdued impatience of all the preliminaries for a night surprise. Colonel Paget was to take the mounted infantry and small portable Maxim on to the top of one cliff overlooking the gorge, so as to fire into the caves in the opposite cliff; another party were to be below at the foot of the gorge, to attack these caves under cover of the fire from above. I was ordered to go with Carew's squadron of 7th Hussars, taking our horses (the remainder of the troop were dismounted), over the ridge, and round to the back of the gorge, to cut off the enemy's line of retreat. We reached the ridge just when it was getting sufficiently light,--as the Dutchman would say, "to see the horns of an ox,"--clambered up the steep, stony hill through the bush, then down the other side, where there lay before us, in the early light, a panorama of bush and tree-tops. Our guide was one Bester, a Boer, whose farm was here. At the outbreak of the rebellion his father had been wounded, his mother killed, and he and his brother only escaped after killing a number of the rebels, and being nearly killed themselves. We passed through the ashes of their home on our way. His uncle I remembered well as field cornet on the Transvaal border, in our operations against Dinizulu, in Zululand, in 1888. The Magneze Poort, in which the rebels were (for we soon knew that they _were_ there, by the barking of dogs, the talking of men, and calling of women, etc.), was a huge cleft, with rocky sides, and a bubbling torrent roaring through. On arriving in rear of the place, we found ourselves in a valley between numerous bush-covered hills. The line of retreat open to the defenders of the stronghold in the gorge was across an open glade of long white grass, along the foot of the steep mountain-side. It was broad daylight by the time we had got to our position, and we had not long been waiting there before we heard excited shouting from the natives on the top of the opposite cliffs, answered by those in the gorge below; then pop--bom--pop--pop, as the firing began; rifles cracking, and blunderbores roaring back their muffled reply from caves; soon the "isiqwakwa" (Maxim) joined in with its sharp "rat-tat-tat-tat-tat," from the top of the ridge. Ere long, a party of the enemy were seen hastily making their way across the open grass in front of us; a moment later, and a troop of the hussars had burst from their hidden station in the bush, and were galloping, swords drawn and gleaming, straight for the astonished rebels. But the charge was not to be; the rocky stream, with boggy banks, was the slip that lay between the cup and the lip, and baulked the sabreurs of their wish; but they did not wait to lament. In a trice they were off their horses, carbine in hand, and soon were popping merrily at the foes they could not get at hand-to-hand. While thus engaged, Carew sent round another troop to cut off any rebels who might succeed in running the gauntlet of fire. Finding themselves stopped, some ran back among the rocks, and contented themselves with wasting ammunition in long shots at us, while others lay among the tall white grass--to wait until the clouds rolled by. But these latter were soon moved by the clouds, in the shape of Lieutenant Holford and a few dismounted men, moving on them through the grass, and thus compelling their retreat at point-blank range, or their surrender. This party counted fifteen dead bodies, and found a few women and children, whom they brought back. Among these were, unfortunately, four wounded--three children and one woman, hit by stray bullets as they were lying hid in the grass. [Illustration: A CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL Some women and children had hidden themselves in the long grass between the enemy and ourselves, and four of them were consequently struck by stray bullets. They were brought in, and we bandaged them up and brought them into camp. The men of the 7th Hussars made excellent amateur nurses.]