NOZIAH AT BLAKEWAY’S FARM--BECOMES A FAVOURITE WITH THE
MEN--WISHES TO RECONCILE ME TO HER BROTHER SANDILLI--EXPEDITION
SENT OUT TO FIND SANDILLI AND ARRANGE FOR AN INTERVIEW--RETURNS
AFTER TWENTY-THREE DAYS’ ABSENCE--I GO WITH NOZIAH TO MEET HER
BROTHER--SANDILLI’S WAR-COUNCIL--ANGRY RECEPTION--I OBTAIN A
HEARING--SANDILLI’S REPLY--OFFERS TO MEET GENERAL CATHCART AND
MAKE AN EXPLANATION TO HIM--DEMORALISING EFFECT OF EXPOSING
LIFE IN FIGHTING.
Meanwhile Noziah had made herself very comfortable at Blakeway’s
Farm, and had picked up enough Dutch and English words to make her
wishes known to me on most subjects. There was a certain charm about
the dusky maiden, who possessed all the subtle graces of her tribe.
She soon became the presiding deity of our camp. To her all appealed
in time of sickness or want; none could refuse a request that came
from her lips, and none was more willing than myself to submit to her
winning guidance. I thought thereby I was acknowledging the influence
of a power best calculated to bring all races under British sway. As
our intimacy increased, she became possessed of the fixed desire to
make me the friend of her brother Sandilli. She was so persistent and
persuading in this matter that I finally arranged that a party under
the guidance of Johnny Fingo should proceed to that chief’s quarter,
and that Noziah should be my delegate on this embassy, to arrange an
interview between her brother and me.
This was not exactly in keeping with the etiquette that prevails
between belligerents, and I have no doubt that legal authority
could easily prove I was in the wrong. But General Cathcart was in
Basutoland, and his last words before leaving had been an injunction
to keep matters quiet round the Water-kloof in any way I thought most
advisable.
This left me a wide margin, which I used in sending the above-named
party out in an unknown direction and with a somewhat visionary object
in view; for, after all, no one knew where Sandilli was, or the mood in
which he might be, if found at all. So, half hesitatingly, I sent them
on their way. Dix, who was a passionate admirer of the gentle sex, of
all shades and shapes (always excepting his frail better-half at Cape
Town), had become a devoted follower of one of Noziah’s attendants, and
was to have been leader of the band; his heart, however, failed him at
the last moment, and he contented himself with a passionate embrace
of this his latest flame, vowing, in high Kaffir-Dutch, that time or
distance could never extinguish the fire that burnt in his breast.
Johnny Fingo was thus left in full command. He had heard that Sandilli
lay somewhere concealed in the Ama Ponda Mountains, behind Fort Alice.
In that direction they accordingly wended their way; and after an
absence of three-and-twenty days, Noziah returned with the news that
Sandilli was in the Water-kloof, not six miles off, and there awaited
my coming.
Her eagerness for our interview seemed so catching, and she had such
fears that her brother might decamp once more--she knew not where--that
I determined to carry out her wishes immediately. I had unbounded
confidence in her loyalty to me; but I had not, by any means, the same
reliance on the good faith of her brother, who bore a character for
fierceness and treachery by no means reassuring. However, accompanied
by her, an attendant, and Dix, I started for the interview, which it
was intended should take place in the rocks so often mentioned before
as the Blacksmith’s Shop, and which had formed so prominent a feature
in General Cathcart’s description of clearing out the Water-kloof.
I left Johnny Fingo in the camp. Something in his demeanour since his
return, and in his manner of relating what had happened during the
expedition, appeared to me suspicious. He was like a big black snake
whose poisoned fangs I knew that I had extracted at one time, but I
was not sure as to whether or not they had grown to be dangerous again
during his late absence; at all events, I thought him safer at home
than with me.
It was late at night when we arrived on the heights above the kloof, so
I determined, after stumbling about over rocks and monkey-rope creepers
for some time, to encamp where we were for the night. A most merciful
dispensation of Providence it was that we did so; for not ten yards
farther on we should have fallen over a perpendicular cliff several
hundred feet to the bottom. In fact, we slept on the brink of a rapid
slope, not ten yards in length, that led to this fearful death.
The next morning early we arrived near the rocks we were in search of;
and halting in a tolerably open space, I sent on Noziah to warn her
brother of our arrival. It was rather an anxious moment. I could see
by the smoke still wreathing about several still-smouldering fires,
that more than one party lay concealed somewhere near those huge black
rocks. But whether a volley of musketry or friendly Kaffirs were to
issue from them, I felt by the thumping of my heart that the question
was being sharply debated within. However, my anxious doubting was soon
over; for Noziah came back, accompanied by a tall, limping figure, who
gravely held out his hand to me.
I was anxious to be on friendly terms with this man. Noziah’s brother
was an interesting being to me. Her courage, handsome person,
and devotedness were making rapid strides into my affections; and
notwithstanding that Sandilli was far from a desirable-looking
acquaintance, I strove by the hearty grasp I gave him to prove how
anxious I was to become better acquainted.
We now proceeded to the rocks, Dix bringing up the rear, with orders
from me to shoot the first person who committed an act of open
treachery. There were here about twenty Kaffirs. We were soon seated
on the ground--Sandilli, Noziah, and myself, the centre of a circle
which these men formed about us. Dix was stationed outside the circle,
gun in hand. The difficulties of entering into good-fellowship with
Sandilli now became apparent; for notwithstanding the beseeching looks
of Noziah, he remained dumbly staring at me in the rudest manner, and I
could see nothing but suppressed rage written on his ugly countenance.
The other members of his council--mostly old men, who remained squatted
on their hands like savage grizzly bears--looked askance at me with
their bloodshot eyes, as though they would like nothing better than
pulling me to pieces. Feeling thus too disagreeably scrutinised, I told
Dix to point his gun, as if by accident, somewhere near Sandilli’s
head. This movement considerably smoothed down the very distorted
features of that dark gentleman. He said something in Kaffir to Noziah,
pointing to Dix, and I told the latter to move his firelock a little on
one side.
After this mute episode snuff was passed round, and the conversation
opened. I explained in Dutch that I had been led to this interview
with the hope of stopping further shedding of blood; that the late
engagements between my men and the Kaffirs had been more like the
slaughtering of cattle than an honest struggle between man and man;
they (the Kaffirs) had no ammunition, and very few guns left; it was
worse than madness to suppose that a piece of stick, blessed by a
witch-doctor, could drive, as they pretended, the English into the
sea,--in fact, I argued that it was a duty for Sandilli, and well
worthy his great influence, to order his blind followers not to
sacrifice themselves any longer to such a senseless enterprise.
Sandilli replied in a curious mingling of Dutch, English, and Kaffir,
of which Noziah acted as interpreter, that it was not he who had begun
the war: years and years ago his father had to defend his kraal against
General Maitland on the Sunday River, many long marches from where
we then sat; that from that day to this several wars had occurred
between his tribe and the English; but they were always brought on in
the defence of their homes. In this manner they had been successively
driven from one place to another, until there was nothing left for them
but the hills. They were not hillmen, but wanted the pasture-lands
in the plains from whence they had been driven, and which were now
given to English farmers and cowardly Fingoes. He, for his part, was
willing to make peace, because they could not fight against my men, who
attacked them by night when they slept. During the day they were not
afraid, as they had proved to Sir Harry Smith. He had been told that
the Basutos had been beaten by General Cathcart: it was a good thing,
because they were fools not to have come to his (Sandilli’s) help when
he had nearly driven the English into the sea, where they came from.
He added that, if Macomo was willing, they would go together and meet
General Cathcart, and explain these matters to him, trusting that
something like an equable arrangement might be made for those of his
tribe who remained.
I promised to send on this proposal of his to General Cathcart; and it
was, moreover, arranged that Noziah should remain in my camp to convey
the General’s reply to Sandilli when received. Noziah also made her
brother swear, over some piece of stick she held before him, that she
should not be sacrificed for remaining with the English (she had often
told me that that disagreeable fate awaited her). To this, after many
a mysterious sign and token, he agreed, to my immense relief, and the
party broke up. I had felt, to say the least of it, exceedingly uneasy
during the somewhat lengthy interview. Noziah afterwards told me that
one of the party had actually proposed that I should be bound and
tortured to death, as a propitiation to their witch-doctors, for the
spirits of those who had perished by my night attacks. It was, perhaps,
the firelock of Dix, pointed towards Sandilli’s head, that prevented
the carrying out of this Kaffir-like attention.
On returning to camp I found a small party of men who had been all
night seeking us. They had caught a Kaffir, belonging probably to
Sandilli’s party, seated near the spot where we had slept that night,
and around which lay strewn remnants of a newspaper in which Dix had
wrapped our late meal. They concluded from these shreds that we had
been pitched over the cliff, and that these tokens of civilisation were
all that remained of their captain, and, in revenge, they had hanged
the poor devil on an adjoining tree.
It was really high time that the war should come to a speedy end. The
knowledge that this end was close at hand had sadly relaxed discipline.
The stirring events of war had left a craving for excitement not easily
satisfied. Life had been so freely exposed, that it was looked upon
as of very hazardous value. Men were ready to give or take it on the
most trivial pretexts. I have seen a party of my own men firing at
one another, at long distances, from behind rocks, merely to find out
the range of their Minie rifles. At other times I have known them
throw assegais at one another for the same purpose, and more than once
inflict dangerous wounds.
I naturally had more difficulty in keeping my men in order than
other officers experienced in that part of the colony. My men were a
rougher lot, and had only enlisted for a war that they now considered
finished: Lieut. H---- had resigned; Lieut. ---- had been sent about
his business; Lieut. P---- was often as riotous as the men; Lieut.
C---- was too young and reckless to possess the tact and persistent
energy necessary for the management of so unruly a set with security to
himself or satisfaction to them.