SHANGANI PATROL—RETURN MARCH
_20th September to 1st October_
We try to reach the Shangani, but fail—Reduced to Horseflesh—Our
Difficulties—Searching for Water—Gielgud volunteers to bring
Assistance—We find Water—The Shangani at last—The Doings of our other
Patrols—Lions everywhere—My Column, reunited, moves towards Inyati—We
capture some Rebel Koppies and Caves—A Funeral by Night—Our Enemy thinks
Discretion the better part of Valour, and surrenders—A new Expedition
organised—We drink Her Majesty’s Health.
_20th September._—Woke up this morning much refreshed, after a good
rest all yesterday and last night. Owing to the amount of lions’ spoor
about the place, we kept fires going all night as a precaution against
them.
This morning we marched at five, after destroying large numbers of
old scherms which had been occupied by the enemy, and we followed the
course of the river for some miles, intending then to strike across
country and make a short cut to the Shangani, as all maps, though
differing in other details, showed this to be possible. However, we did
not find it possible. We struck boldly out into the forest, and marched
along at our best speed, which was not very great. Gradually, the heat
of the day began to affect the horses; again, we were on foot leading
and driving them through the heavy sand; but after going about six
miles, we saw it would be impossible to reach the Shangani that day.
We had already abandoned two horses, and several others seemed quite
done up; our only chance now was to hark back to the Gwelo. Another
unpleasant item had been added to our experiences this morning, and
that was the finding of several carcasses of koodoo which had evidently
died from rinderpest, so that there was little hope of our getting any
fresh meat by shooting game in this district. I therefore gave orders
that one of the horses should be shot, cut up, and issued as rations
for the men, and it was quite a cheering sight to see the squadron
butcher get to work in a professional way on that horse, and to hear
him sing out when all was ready, “Now, boys, roll up for your rations.”
[Illustration: FRESH HORSE–BEEF
We eventually had to take to horseflesh. The farrier and the squadron
butcher did the necessary preparation, and it was very cheering
presently to hear their cry, “Now, boys, roll up for your rations.”]
I now wrote a note to the officer in command of the waggons, telling
him that we should make our way to the Shangani, and should proceed
along its bank towards him, but that, being short of food, we should
hope for him to send a few pack–horses with fresh supplies to meet
us. Then, loading up the two native guides with as much horseflesh as
they could carry, and filling up a tin biscuit–box with water from our
water–bottles for them, we sent them off, taking their direction by
the sun, to find the waggons and deliver the note. Then we ourselves
turned again and made our way back to the Gwelo, and there halted for
our midday meal and rest. This was our _menu_: weak tea (can’t afford
it strong), no sugar (we are out of it), a little bread (we have half a
pound a day), Irish stew (consisting of slab of horse boiled in muddy
water with a pinch of rice and half a pinch of pea–flour), salt, none.
For a plate I use one of my gaiters: it is marked “Tautz & Sons, No.
3031”; it is a far cry from veldt and horseflesh to Tautz and Oxford
Street!
Our great difficulty is topographical information. Our two prisoners,
whom we had now sent away, had been worse than useless as guides,
because they had no idea of distance; our two maps differ widely as to
the relative positions of the two rivers, and our view of the country
is limited in all directions by bush. The natives, before they left us,
told us that if we kept along the bank of the Gwelo until we came to a
path turning off southwards at the foot of a tall fruit tree, it would
bring us in a very short walk to the Shangani River, and we hope to
strike that path to–night. We are all right so long as nobody gets sick
or wounded, if we manage to get a tussle with the niggers (and I am in
great hopes that when we strike the path, we may just drop on to them
coming up it). Another difficulty is that our messengers may not prove
faithful in taking our note to the waggons. Nothing like looking at the
cheery side of things!
In the evening, we moved on again along the bank of the Gwelo, and
soon after sunset we came across a path leading southwards from the
river, and near the path was a tall palm tree, which we took to be the
tall fruit tree spoken of by our two natives. This path was to take us
in a very few miles to the Shangani, so, after supping at this spot,
we started with light hearts to follow the track as it turned deep
into the forest again. Every man was now walking, and either leading
or driving his horse, and as we formed a long single string in the
narrow path, our progress was extremely slow. On and on till past
midnight, and by one in the morning we reckoned we had done about eight
miles; but we ought, according to our guide’s report, to have struck
the Shangani long ere this. But no Shangani nor any sign of it was in
sight; so, calling a halt, I told Poore to rest the men and horses,
while Gielgud—who was an old American scout—and I went on ahead, to see
if we could find the river within a reasonable distance.
We two were mounted on ponies, which seem to stand the hard work far
better than the horses of the hussars, and having bright moonlight to
show us the track, we pressed along at a fairly good pace. The sameness
of the forest scenery was very tiring and very depressing, and we only
longed to come upon the enemy, or for them to come upon us, to give a
little variety to the monotony.
On and on we went, until we calculated we had done another nine miles,
but never a sign of water. The moon was then getting low, and we
agreed the only thing to be done was to turn back while there was yet
sufficient light to see the track to rejoin the patrol, and to turn
them back once more for a second time to the Gwelo River. My idea,
then, was that one of us should take the two best horses and ride for
the direction of the waggons to try and get help, while the patrol
should keep along the river bank, so as to be sure of its water, and
simply live on horse until relieved. Gielgud very kindly volunteered
to make the attempt to ride for the waggons. We had not gone very far
on our way back towards the patrol, when the moon went down, and left
us in the dark; but it only wanted a quarter of an hour to dawn, so we
made a fire, and boiled our cocoa, in the course of which operation I
fell fast asleep.
_21st September._—As the dawn came on, I climbed a neighbouring tree
and looked all round to see if there were any signs of the river, but
nothing but an unbroken line of tree–tops met my gaze.
As I was coming down from the tree, a jingling in the bush a short
distance away attracted my attention, and there, to my horror, I saw
the whole of my patrol had followed after us. This settled the question
of whether to go forward or to go back; we must now press forward, even
if it meant losing horses.
Again halting the party to give them a rest, Gielgud and I resolved to
make one more effort to find water, not by going on along the path,
but by striking off to one side where the ground appeared to slope
downwards. It was heart–breaking work: every rise seemed to promise a
valley on the other side, but we only topped it to find an ordinary
dry, baked, grass valley beyond. After going some miles without success
we sorrowfully allowed that no more could be done; our ponies were
getting fagged out, and we must try and get back to the patrol, with
every prospect of having a bad day pushing on for water.
Poor Gielgud was now asleep on his horse. I was leading the way back,
and his horse following mine wearily, when I chanced to notice on
the ground the place where a buck had been scratching in the sand; I
thought to myself that he would not scratch there for nothing, so,
dismounting, I continued the scratching with my hand, and after
digging for some little time, I came to damp ground, and a little
deeper the water began to ooze in. Then I saw two pigeons fly up from
behind a rock a short distance from me, and, going there, I found a
little pool of water. You may guess how much we were relieved; it
reversed the whole of the dilemma. An hour later we had got the party
off–saddled there, watered and camped for the day, and here I am under
my blanket shelter, scorching hot day, flies innumerable stopping all
our efforts to sleep, and the prospect of another night march before
us, which we sincerely hope will bring us out of this beastly forest
to the river. We have now got only one pound of bread left for each
man, a little tea, a spoonful of rice, and plenty of horseflesh; no
salt, sugar, or coffee—these luxuries are past; and we expect nothing
more for the next three days. Yet the men are singing and chaffing away
as cheerfully as possible while they scoop the muddy water from the
sand–hole for their tea.
I am mounting Gielgud and Corporal Spicer of the 7th on my ponies, and
they are going to start to ride for the waggons as soon as the heat of
the clay is over. I shall not leave the men myself, but shall probably
have to walk on foot; this I would not mind but my boots are already
very holey, and only the ankles of my socks remain, the feet have
become most delicate lace.
At 4 p. m. we again moved on, having bid good–bye to Gielgud and his
man, who have gone on ahead. Gielgud is a fine young fellow, Native
Commissioner by occupation, American by birth, cowboy by education, and
gentleman by nature.
We held on steadily to the south and eastward till long after dark, and
again a brilliant moon helped us on our way. In fact, we do far more
marching by night than by daytime. At last a halt was called, because
two more horses had given out, and we had to transfer their saddles to
other horses, which in some cases were already carrying two or three
saddles on their backs, for we may as well try to save what Government
property we can. I took the opportunity of this halt to go forward
again to look for water, and I was not out of sound of the men’s voices
when I came on the wide expanse of river bed lying in the moonlight
before me. I _was_ glad. All my anxiety was now over. We camped then
and there on a tree–shaded, rocky knoll overlooking the river. Poore
and I have a splendid log fire between us. I boiled up my last spoonful
of cocoa, which I had been husbanding for a great occasion like this,
and after a nugget of rock–like bread and a fid of horse, I am going to
bed WITH MY BOOTS OFF! I do not care for Matabele now; I am going to
try for a good sleep, and I will “see that I get it.”
[Illustration: A NEW ENEMY
Lions were common in the Shangani country. I got a shot at a very good
one when out with a small patrol of 7th Hussars. But, although badly
wounded, he got away.]
_22nd September._—We had what in India would be called “a Europe
morning,” that is to say, we lay in bed longer than usual by half an
hour, and did not get up till five. Then we marched for two hours
along the Shangani; we were now out of the forest, but in pretty thick
thorn–bush country. We now kept a good look–out for the enemy, hoping
to catch them about the river, and patrolled into all likely–looking
country on both sides of the river, as this was a part of the country
in which Forbes’s column in ‘93 met with several attacks from the
enemy on their way back after the Shangani disaster. But we could not
even find a sign of the rebels, although we saw what was also very
interesting, and that was the spoor of lion. I had taken a patrol of
three men across the river to examine some bush, and in coming back
on to the river bank, one of my men cried out, “There is a lion!” and
sure enough there was a fine great dark–coloured lion strolling along
on a small island in the middle of the river bed, about a hundred yards
away. I thought he would like to have some notice taken of him, so
jumped off my horse to salute him, and the corporal with me did the
same, and we both fired almost simultaneously. One bullet struck the
ground under him and the other struck him in the ribs, rather far
back, as for a moment he sank on his haunches, and then sprang forward
among some rocks and was immediately lost to sight. I put my hussars
up on different rocks to keep a look–out for him, and the main body
of the patrol on the other bank of the river kept the look–out there,
and I went down among the rocks of the river bed to look for him, but
could not find him. Poore joined me there, and also his sergeant–major,
and the farrier, who came armed with a revolver only. But though we
searched every corner of the rocks, we never saw the beast again.
But we heard of him, for later on, when I resumed the search in the
afternoon, one of the men whom I had posted on the look–out asked how
many lions I expected to find there, as the one I had shot at in the
morning had gone away up the river dragging his hind–quarters after
him. The man had supposed that I saw him too, and so said nothing!
We killed another horse to–day, and I took in my belt another hole. I
seldom measured less round the waist than I do now.
Had a delicious bathe in the river. The only drawback to bathing is the
difficulty of getting back into one’s soleless socks again; next time
I bathe I shall not take them off, but will bathe in them.
The river is a big sandy bed with piles and ledges of grey granite
rock, low banks covered with thorn jungle, occasional pools among the
rocks. Some of the hussars, fishing in these pools, have managed to
catch some good–sized barbel. It is wonderful what soldiers manage to
carry as part of their kit,—here is a man carrying fish–hooks with him
in this wilderness, just as in India, I remember, a man had a pair of
skates among his things, which, however, came in useful when he got up
to Kandahar in the winter–time. The men are certainly thin, but very
healthy and hungry. When a man is hungry, it is curious to see how he
furtively watches his neighbour eating, especially if he (the watcher)
has already finished his meal.
I know you will ask, what is horseflesh like? Well, it is not so bad
when you have got accustomed to it, and especially if you have a little
salt, mustard, vegetables, etc., to go with it, and also if you did not
happen to know the deceased personally. None of these conditions were
present in our case. It is one thing to say, “I’ll trouble you to pass
the horse, please,” but quite another to say, “Give me another chunk of
D 15.”
During the afternoon march I again took a patrol away to the flank
of my main party, and had not rejoined it when darkness set in,
consequently, in the main party, they began to fire some signal shots,
to show me where they were, and I replied to these. For signal shots
we generally fired three shots in rapid succession, but, to my great
surprise, my signal was not only replied to by the patrol, but also by
a volley fired in the darkness some distance ahead of us. The volley
was immediately followed by the bright flare of a signal fire. I very
soon rejoined my patrol, and together we pressed on in the direction of
the fire. More shots were fired, to which we replied, and, on reaching
the place, we were delighted to find our relief party, which had been
sent out, under De Moleyns, to meet us. Here were camp–fires ready lit,
bully–beef, sugar, flour, cocoa, laid out all ready for issue, and
nosebags, stuffed with mealies, standing ready for the horses. It was
a goodly sight, and what a meal we all made! The luxury of bully–beef!
And while we ate, De Moleyns gave us all the news of the other patrols
which had gone out; the one which Kekewich had taken away to our right
had communicated with Paget beyond the Gwelo River, and had then made
a dash for a rebel impi, which was camped near the “Lion Koppie,”
some forty miles down the river, and had totally surprised them. The
Mounted Infantry had charged as cavalry, fixing their bayonets, and
using their arms as lances; they had killed some twenty of the enemy,
and taken many prisoners, corn, and cattle. The prisoners whom our
patrol had captured had duly given themselves up at the waggons, and
our two native messengers had faithfully carried out their mission,
and brought in the note asking for supplies. All the patrols had met
with lion adventures, one small party from Ridley’s lot having walked
into a family party of nine lions lying down; when the lions got up and
stretched themselves and yawned, the scouts thought it time to retire.
Another lion visited the waggons, and was wounded by a sentry firing on
him at five yards’ distance, but he got away; and even here, where we
now were camped, the lions were round about; big fires were therefore
kept going all night by the sentries. But we did not sit up late to
talk over lion stories; all anxiety being at an end, we coiled down,
put our feet to the fire, and slept like logs.
_23rd September._—Leaving Poore and the patrol to rest and feed, and
to follow on by slow stages, I got a fresh pony from De Moleyns, and,
accompanied by him and by the party of men who had brought the food to
us, I rode back to the waggons, twenty–two miles. There I got in touch
again with the whole of my command; it seemed quite a peaceful change.
I now sent orders for the whole force, including the waggons, which
had been left near Uwini’s, to rejoin me on the Hartley Hill road; my
intention was to return along this road towards Inyati, as an impi was
reported to be collected in that neighbourhood, and several parties
of rebels occupied koppies near the road. Moreover, the country lying
north of the Hartley Hill road had not been, so far, patrolled west
of the Shangani. Leaving orders, therefore, for Poore to move by easy
stages through that country down to Inyati, I determined to go there
with my main body by the main road, having also a strong patrol moving
parallel to the road, on the south side of it, clearing the koppies in
that country.
_28th September._—After sending off the waggons at 3.45 in the morning,
I went with the mounted part of the column to the southward of the
road, and at dawn surrounded a koppie occupied by rebels. They were
too quick for us; having drawn a cordon round the koppie, we ascended
it, and found their fires burning, food cooking, and their blankets
lying about, just vacated, but not a soul was to be seen, except a dog
or two; the people had all bolted into the caves, with which the hill
was undermined. We found the entrance to the caves near the top of the
hill; it was merely a small hole under a huge rock, into which you had
to let yourself down feet first. It led into a ramification of small
passages and tunnels underground. Deep down in this dark hole you came
to a perpendicular shaft, thirty feet deep, leading, by a tree–stem
used as a ladder, into a deeper level of similar caves (I say _you_
could do it, as _I_ couldn’t, for, in climbing about the koppie, I
had sprained my ankle slightly, and I had to sit nursing it, while
the others did the exploration of the caves). We called down into the
caves, for anybody who might be there to come out, as we were going to
use dynamite, and after getting out a large supply of grain and Kaffir
food, and sending it off to the waggons by gangs of prisoners, we blew
up the cave with three charges of dynamite.
[Illustration: ENTERING A CAVE STRONGHOLD
The “caves” in which the rebels take refuge are labyrinths of narrow
tunnels twisting about underground between the rocks. The entrance is
generally near the top of a koppie, and to enter is like going down a
chimney or a steep drain, with an armed nigger waiting for you at the
bottom.]
_29th September._—On leaving our camp ground this morning, which was
on the Shangani River, Gielgud, following behind the column, saw two
Matabele spies peeping at us from among the reeds in the river bed,
and he cleverly effected their capture with the assistance of some
of his boys; one of the men carried a Martini–Henry rifle. When we
got into camp that night, a man of the police, who was ill in the
hospital–waggon, died suddenly of pneumonia. As we should have to start
at 3.45 next morning, we had his funeral then and there, as soon as the
grave could be dug. It was an impressive ceremony, the military funeral
in the dark, among gleams of camp–fires and lanterns, with a storm of
thunder and lightning gathering round.
_1st October._—We had at last reached Inyati, only to find a letter
from the General to say that the impi that we had come for has sent
in to say that they wish to surrender, so that our last few days
of hurried marching with weary mules and horses had again been
thrown away. The General’s letter goes on to say that the rebels
are submitting in every direction, the war is practically over in
Matabeleland, and that a court of inquiry is to assemble at Gwelo to
hear my reasons for trying Uwini by court–martial instead of handing
him over for civil power to try. That this is by direction of the High
Commission at Cape Town, who, on hearing that Uwini had been tried
and executed, had telegraphed ordering my arrest; but this in effect
the General had respectfully declined to carry out. In his letter
the General says a court can assemble “as soon as Paget and you have
finished your operations against Wedza.” This was the first I had
heard of my column being required to co–operate against Wedza, but a
hint is as good as a nod, or whatever the phrase is, and I am losing no
time about acting upon it. I have picked out all the best horses of the
Hussars and the Mounted Infantry, amounting to 115, and these, together
with a 7–pounder and two Maxims, I am going to take to Wedza’s, with
waggons carrying three weeks’ provisions. Wedza’s is about a hundred
miles to the south–east of this. I am leaving all the sick and worn–out
horses here at Inyati, where Poore will take charge of them when he
arrives about two days hence. The Afrikander corps under Captain
van Niekerk belong to the temporary Matabeleland Police, and their
engagement shortly expires, so I shall not take them with me, but shall
send them back to Buluwayo ready for disbandment, and with them will
go the ambulance, taking such men as are sick. These, happily, do not
amount to many, but unfortunately include two officers of the Mounted
Infantry, namely, Kekewich, who has both hands disabled from veldt
sores, and Armstrong ill with dysentery. I am also losing the services
of De Moleyns, who has been detailed to organise the new police force
in Mashonaland.
[Illustration: “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!”
At a camp–fire concert, held in honour of Her Majesty’s record reign,
all hands, Boers as well as Colonials and Imperial troops, joined
heartily in the cheers that greeted the proposal of her health, and in
singing “God save the Queen.”]
Prince Alexander of Teck has taken his place as my staff officer, and
is hard at work in arranging matters, so that we may get away to–morrow
morning. Gielgud, too, is leaving us, as Inyati is his headquarters,
and, peace having been restored in his district, he has now to settle
down and arrange for the settlement of the natives, and for the receipt
of further surrenders of rebels and their arms. Van Niekerk, who
commands the Afrikander corps, will be a great loss to me, he is so
very keen, and a most resourceful and helpful officer, and his men,
too, have got on wonderfully well with Tommy Atkins both in camp as
well as in the field.
To–night we have had a camp–fire concert, by way of a farewell
entertainment, and in honour of Her Majesty’s record reign. We just had
sufficient “dop” (Dutch brandy) to give everybody a tot in which to
drink her health, and it was a pleasing sight to see, not only her own
soldiers, but Colonials and Afrikanders as well, joining with all their
hearts in singing “God Save the Queen,” and in the cheers that greeted
the proposal of her health.