IN THE BELINGWE DISTRICT
_2nd October to 13th October_
My Column moves from Inyati towards Belingwe—The Danger of ignoring your
Enemy—We camp at Posselt’s Farm—We meet a Lion, and do not part with
him again—The Value of a Lion’s Interior Fittings—Waiting to effect a
Junction with Paget’s Column—Our Arrival signalled by the Rebels—We move
towards Wedza’s to reconnoitre—We have a Talk with the Rebels—Wedza
not inclined for Submission—We clear the Neighbouring Hills as an
Object–Lesson to him—Description of Wedza’s Stronghold.
_2nd October._—Early in the morning our diminished column started
off from Inyati across the veldt, not following any road, but making
its own way south–eastward towards the Belingwe district. The column
consisted of half a squadron of the 7th Hussars and the York and
Lancaster Mounted Infantry, together with the 7–pounder and machine
guns manned by police under Captain Boggie. About 160 men altogether,
with ambulance, and waggons carrying stores and three weeks’ supplies.
_5th October._—We have been going steadily on over open, undulating
country, with a range of blue hills beyond a wooded plain on our
left, and rolling downs of yellow veldt on our right. All the anxiety
of conducting a column, which I have felt of late, is now off my
mind, since water is to be found in every river bed; but our horses
and mules are very tired and worn–out, the grass is all parched
and practically useless as food, and yet there is no other to give
them; the sun is powerful, and by eight o’clock the heat of the day
is already beginning, the thermometer going up to 98 and 100 in the
shade at midday. All the country through which we are now passing has
surrendered, and it is quite a new sensation to see natives walking
across the veldt and not to go for them, to see fresh spoor and not to
let your heart jump with joy.
To–day we struck the Belingwe–Buluwayo road, and, following along it,
we are passing through the Insiza Hills. This is a range of stony,
thinly–bushed hills, where gold–reef claims are pegged out in every
direction. Our night outspan is on the top of a hill among the burnt
ruins of Stevenson’s Store; it does make one feel a little badly
disposed towards our black brothers when one sees a comfortable home
like this wantonly destroyed, its little household nicknacks scattered,
broken, and burnt about the veldt. It was near one such ruined
homestead as this that I found a poor little white chap of three years
old, with his head battered, as these savages are fond of doing. After
burying him, I kept one of his little shoes as a keepsake.
_6th October._—We are once again in a country where an enemy is
possible, which I much prefer to a half–and–half country, because here
all ranks are apt to become slack in the precautionary duties of the
line of march and camp. It is curious how new–comers fail to appreciate
the necessity of precautions until they have been bitten or nearly
bitten, and this they do in spite of all the teachings of history, such
as Isandhlwana, the Prince Imperial, Bronker’s Spruit, and a half a
hundred narrow shaves that have never become public. They look casually
round the wide, bare horizon—not a soul in sight; ergo, they argue, not
a soul is there. They do not know how a nigger hides; even the best
troop of scouts in Matabeleland have been taken in in this way. An
onlooker on a neighbouring hill, from which he commanded a bird’s–eye
view of the scene, saw this body of scouts approaching a rise, and on
the other side of the rise there was similarly a body of the enemy
coming up towards the scouts, each party unseen by the other. The
natives were first to see their enemy; they dropped like one man in
their tracks, and lay low in the thick grass. The scouts came on over
the rise without having seen them, and rode right past them, within
fifty yards. So soon as they had been lost to sight over the next
ridge, the natives rose to their feet and went on their way rejoicing.
I myself once marked down a Matabele in a patch of grass; I walked
through it, and had passed within a foot or two of him before I saw his
heel, Achilles–like, left outside the tunnel which he had wriggled for
himself in the grass.
New–comers take time to learn the value of spoor. Show them fresh
spoor, and they will scarcely believe that it is that of the enemy, who
should be somewhere in sight if he were not hiding, and, seeing nothing
to be alarmed at themselves, they are apt to mistake discretion for
funk, and foolhardiness for pluck; they think that precautions, to say
the least, are derogatory; to see them saunter into danger, is as it
were to watch a child playing on the edge of a cliff. It is that same
foolhardiness that stands in the way of many men becoming good scouts;
there are plenty who are ready, if asked, to go and look into hell’s
mouth; but what one wants is a man who will not only go there, but who
can see his way to getting back again to tell you what he saw. And
to do this successfully he must be wary, and must notice all signs,
however small, and be able to read their meaning.
A small incident which occurred to me the other day will give an
example. I was out with a boy reconnoitring a hill occupied by enemy.
In order to get a better view of it, we had to cross a difficult
river, which lay between high, steep banks, and consisted of a chain
of deep–water reaches and rocks, with only one practicable “drift,” or
crossing. It was not a very safe proceeding to commit ourselves to one
single line of retreat, but in this case there was no alternative.
So we crossed over, but kept, if possible, a more than usually bright
look–out for enemy, while moving as far as we could under concealment
of the bush ourselves. As we went, we took special note of guiding
marks, such as would serve to direct us back to our crossing–place
should we be obliged to make for it in a hurry. (This use of guiding
marks, such as peculiar trees, noticeable rocks, etc., is too often
neglected, and yet may often be invaluable).
We went on for about a quarter of a mile beyond the drift, and then,
leaving the horses with the boy, I climbed up a koppie and got a view
of the place.
So far, we had seen no niggers about, but presently, glancing back
towards the drift, I saw three buck suddenly appear, coming as hard as
they could away from the bush near the river and towards us. Presently
they stopped, and, without noticing us, wheeled up and faced the way
they had come, staring hard with pricked ears. For a moment or two they
stood, and then, springing round, they dashed past us evidently fully
alarmed. We did not wait to see what had startled them, but, clambering
down the rocks, I mounted my horse, and we shoved back for the drift as
fast as we were able, keeping our eyes “skinned” the while.
We got to the bank all right, and, looking into the gully that formed
the river bed, were relieved to find it all clear; but, on looking
back, we could now see a number of black heads and shoulders of niggers
bobbing along among the rocks and bush, evidently hastening down to
occupy the drift and to cut us off. Luckily, by acting on the hint
given by the buck, we were before them, and were not long in getting
across to the open ground on the other bank of the river.
The hint, as seen in the open, was but a very small one, and would
probably mean nothing to the man who declines to accept hints;
and were he always acting alone it would not matter much, except
to himself,—for he would not live long to carry on his neglectful
course,—and there is no objection to his being rash at times—in fact,
for successful scouting, some risks _have_ to be run; but when he has
command of others, for whose safety he is responsible, it is another
thing, and nothing may then be left to chance.
[Illustration: FRESH MEAT
For weeks at a time we lived entirely on tinned meat, and it was a great
treat to the men when, occasionally, they could get a taste of fresh
meat, whether it were buck, goat, or horse.]
_9th October._—At last, after trekking with weary, half–starved animals
for eighty–seven miles from Inyati, we are in sight of our goal.
Wedza’s Mountain, a noble–looking peak, can be seen peering over the
intermediate range, at a distance of some twelve or fifteen miles from
us. We are camped at Posselt’s cattle farm, where there is a certain
amount of grazing for our beasts; but Posselt’s cattle are all in the
hands of the rebels. The Native Commissioner of this district, Mr.
Jackson,—eager and helpful,—has joined us, and also Lieutenant Yonge,
with twenty men of the Belingwe garrison and a Nordenfeldt gun. But,
to our great disappointment, they had no news of Paget’s column, with
which we are expected to operate. Before leaving Inyati, I had sent
runners to Buluwayo to report my departure on this expedition, and
asking that Paget should be informed, by telegraph, that I should be
about here this day (9th October), and I had hoped to find an answer
from him awaiting us. On the other hand, we are much cheered to learn
that the rebels in this district are still unsubdued and cheeky.
[Illustration: STROLLING HOME IN THE MORNING]
_10th October_ (to be marked with a red mark when I can get a red
pencil).—Jackson and a native boy accompanied me scouting this morning;
we three started off at three in the morning, so that by dawn we were
in sight of one of the hills we expected might be occupied by Paget,
and where we hoped to see his fires. We saw none there; but on our
way, in moving round the hill which overlooks our camp, we saw a match
struck high up near the top of the mountain. This one little spark
told us a good deal. It showed that the enemy were there; that they
were awake and alert (I say “they,” because one nigger would not be up
there by himself in the dark); and that they were aware of our force
being at Posselt’s (as, otherwise, they would not be occupying that
hill). However, they could not see anything of us, as it was then quite
dark; and we went farther on among the mountains. In the early morning
light we crossed the deep river bed of the Umchingwe River, and, in
doing so, we noticed the fresh spoor of a lion in the sand. We went on,
and had a good look at the enemy’s stronghold; and on our way back,
as we approached this river bed, we agreed to go quietly, in case the
lion should be moving about in it. On looking down over the bank, my
heart jumped into my mouth, when I saw a grand old brute just walking
in behind a bush. Jackson could not see him, but was off his horse as
quick as I was, and ready with his gun; too ready, indeed, for the
moment that the lion appeared, walking majestically out from behind the
bush that had hidden him, Jackson fired hurriedly, striking the ground
under his foot, and, as we afterwards discovered, knocking off one
of his claws. The lion tossed up his shaggy head and looked at us in
dignified surprise. Then I fired, and hit him in the ribs with a leaden
bullet from my Lee–Metford. He reeled, sprang round, and staggered a
few paces, when Jackson, who was firing a Martini–Henry, let him have
one in the shoulder; this knocked him over sideways, and he turned
about, growling savagely.
[Illustration: “HALT! WHO COMES THERE?”]
I could scarcely believe that we had actually got a lion at last, but
resolved to make sure of it; so, telling Jackson not to fire unless it
was necessary (for fear of spoiling the skin with the larger bullet
of the Martini), I got down closer to the beast, and fired a shot at
the back of his neck as he turned his head away from me. This went
through his spine, and came out through the lower jaw, killing him
dead. We were pretty delighted at our success, but our nigger was mad
with happiness, for a dead lion—provided he is not a man–eater—has many
invaluable gifts for a Kaffir, in the shape of love–philtres, charms
against disease or injury, and medicines that produce bravery. It was
quite delightful to shake hands with the mighty paws of the dead lion,
and to pull at his magnificent tawny mane, and to look into his great
deep yellow eyes. And then we set to work to skin him; two skinning,
while the other kept watch in case of the enemy sneaking up to catch
us while we were thus occupied. In skinning him, we found that he
was very fat, and also that he had been much wounded by porcupines,
portions of whose quills had pierced the skin and lodged in his flesh
in several places. Our nigger cut out the eyes, gall–bladder, and
various bits of the lion’s anatomy, as fetish medicine. I filled my
carbine bucket with some of the fat, as I knew my two boys, Diamond and
M’tini, would very greatly value it. Then, after hiding the head in
a neighbouring bush, we packed the skin on to one of the ponies, and
returned to camp mightily pleased with ourselves.
On arrival there, the excitement among the boys was very great, for,
as we rode into camp, we pretended we had merely shot a buck; but when
Diamond turned out to take my horse from me, he suddenly recognised the
skin, and his eyes almost started from his head as he put his hand over
his mouth and ejaculated, “Ow! Ingonyama!” (“Great Scott! a lion!”)
Then, grinning with excitement, he asked leave to go and get some more
of it. In vain I told him that it was eight miles away, and close
under the enemy’s stronghold. He seized up an assegai and started off
at a steady trot along our back–spoor. And very soon one nigger after
another was doubling out of camp after him, to get a share of the
booty. In the evening they came back quite happy with various tit–bits,
and also the head. The heart was boiled and made into soup, which was
greedily partaken of by every boy in camp, with a view to gaining
courage. Diamond assured me that the bits of fat, etc., of which he was
now the proud possessor, would buy him several cattle when he got back
to Natal. Alas! I am afraid he may be reckoning without his rinderpest!
_12th October._—No news yet from Paget, although Jackson has sent some
runners to get round past the enemy’s country to communicate with
him, and to tell him that we are waiting for his orders here. In the
meantime, I do not intend to waste time, but shall go for one or two of
the minor chiefs round about here; and shall also reconnoitre Wedza’s
stronghold, so as to have, if possible, a map and report of it ready
for Paget’s use when he comes.
To–day we have marched to the Umchingwe River, and our camp is close
to where I shot the lion yesterday. We got there at midday, and our
arrival was at once signalled by the rebels to each other by means of
smoke–fires, lasting for about three minutes, on the two mountains
which form the strongholds of Monti and Matzetetza. I had sent some
native spies to find out where Wedza is now keeping his cattle, as,
if they are grazed away from the stronghold, we might be able to make
a raid on them, but the scouts have not yet returned; nor has Jackson
come back yet with some friendly natives whom he went away to collect.
But since the warning has been given to the various strongholds by
these smoke–fires, I thought it useless to wait any further, and
have ordered that this night, at sundown, all available mounted men
(numbering about 120), should go to reconnoitre Wedza’s stronghold,
taking two days’ rations with them.
Meantime I started in the afternoon myself, with Parkyn, my orderly, to
act as interpreter, to go to Matzetetza’s, to see if we could get his
people to talk with us, and if so, to advise them to surrender. They
had already been attacked some weeks before by Laing’s column, which
had driven them from their kraals for the time being, but they had
since reoccupied them. But when Parkyn and I got there, we found the
kraal apparently completely deserted, and though we shouted for anybody
who might be in the caves to come out and talk, explaining to them
that we were harmless individuals, merely coming to talk of peace, no
one appeared; so we got nothing by our ten–mile ride, except the mild
excitement of keeping our eyes open all the time, Parkyn being a little
apprehensive of some attempt to cut us off.
So about sundown we rode back and got on to the path which would be
followed by our party on its way to Wedza’s, and very soon we saw them
coming along in the moonlight, or rather, we heard them long before we
saw them, for the air was so clear and still, that though the column
was supposed to be moving in silence, we could hear the men muttering
to each other for seven minutes before they came up to us, that is,
over half a mile. We ourselves, to test their eyesight, sat quite
still, and found that we were not noticed until they were within twenty
yards of us, although the moon was bright and our horses were grazing
near.
As we went on past one of the strongholds, a signal–fire flared up
above us, which was quickly answered by another one from the very
hill to which Parkyn and I had been addressing ourselves in the
afternoon, so that there had been natives there listening all the time.
These signal–fires merely flashed up for a minute or two and were
extinguished again; but it was very annoying to have one’s moves thus
published. For a good part of the way it was very bad going, and we had
to do much of it on foot, leading our horses across rivers, rocks, and
bog; but at last, in the middle of the night, we arrived in the valley
formed on one side by Wedza’s mountain, and on the other by a parallel
ridge of bush–grown hills. On both Wedza’s and the opposite mountain
we could see fires twinkling at various points, which showed that both
were fully occupied by the enemy, who at the same time did not seem to
suspect our presence between them. We formed square and bivouacked.
_13th October._—Rousing up the men at half–past two, and leaving the
horses with a guard of fifty men, we went on foot close under Wedza’s
mountain, with the idea of lying in ambush there to catch some of
his people getting water in the morning, and from them to get such
information as we required as to the strength and disposition of the
forces, the whereabouts of the cattle, and other interesting items.
Along the foot of the mountain and parallel to it flows the Chingweze
River, and we had to cross this to get to the foot of the mountain,
and we found it a worse job than we anticipated, for the river was
wide and deep except at one spot, where it was passable through a
tumbled mass of great smooth rocks and boulders extending for about
three hundred yards. On these the men with their nailed boots slithered
and clattered to an awful extent, without making very much progress,
and dawn came on before we had reached the desired position. Another
quarter of a mile and we should be near the water–path, but it was
just too late to get there unseen, so, as the daylight came on, we hid
ourselves as best we could, close under the foot of the mountain.
[Illustration: PARLEYING WITH REBELS
On many occasions we offered the rebels a chance of surrendering before
being attacked. To do this, two of us would go near the stronghold,
carrying a white flag, and unarmed (at least, as far as outward
appearances went, but with revolvers inside our shirts). While talking
to them, we kept moving about, because if we stood still, we offered a
target to them that was too tempting to be resisted.]
Not far from us we could hear the talking and jabbering of the women
and children, altogether unsuspicious of our presence. Parkyn and I
then clambered up on to one of the lower koppies of the mountain, where
we could get a view of what was going on; he took up a good position
with his gun to cover my retreat in case of our being nipped there,
and I climbed up higher to get a look into this little valley beyond
in which all the talking was taking place. I was wearing what remained
of my indiarubber–soled shoes, and so was able to get about pretty
silently, but just as I was crossing an open space between two rocks, I
heard a wild cry of alarm, and all the women calling to each other to
run. I thought it was all over with our secrecy, so, clambering down
again, Parkyn and I walked boldly out into the open and called to the
people not to be frightened—that we had merely come to talk to them.
To my great surprise, it was only then that they discovered us; the
previous alarm had merely been given by some women who were lighting up
fires which were to blaze up all over their gardens to kill a flight
of locusts which had settled there, and they were only calling to each
other to run and get out of the way of the flames. However, as we had
now shown ourselves, we started a conversation. We told them that we
had come to talk peace, and wanted to see Wedza; they informed us that
Wedza was not at home, but that anything we liked to say would be
reported to him. We soon discovered that it was actually Wedza talking
to us; then we proceeded to tell them that a large body of troops
were coming to smash them up in their stronghold unless they were
wise in the meantime and sent in to make peace. Then Wedza remarked
that it was a curious thing for us to come and suggest peace and then
immediately to talk war, and especially to talk of smashing him in a
stronghold which had withstood many an attack and had never been taken.
At the same time, he would like to continue the conversation with us
if we would come a little nearer, as he was rather hard of hearing.
We guessed what his intention was, and neither went any nearer—for we
were already on the rocks at the foot of the mountain—nor did we cease
to walk about the whole time we were talking, because to stand still
on these occasions, even though you may be holding a white flag up,
often means to get a shot at you so soon as you offer a favourable
target. For half an hour we endeavoured to persuade the old boy that he
would be wiser to surrender, and we impressed on him that the troops
who were coming would be here in a day or two, they would arrive most
unexpectedly, and they were the Queen’s own troops, armed with special
apparatus for bringing rebellious chiefs out of their caves, means
which had never yet failed to effect their purpose. But he only invited
us to come and try the experiment with them, and that he would afford
the exception that proves the rule.
We then went back to the men, who had all this time been hidden close
under the foot of the hill, and moved out into the open to go back
to our horses. When the rebels saw this sudden apparition of armed
men so close to them, they started yelling and shrieking all over the
mountain, and from hilltop to hilltop the cry of warning and alarm was
passed on, and very soon afterwards people from outlying kraals could
be seen running for refuge to the main stronghold in the mountain.
As we recrossed the river to get to the horses, we saw a big crocodile
in one of the pools, and the fresh spoor of a hippopotamus along the
bank.
[Illustration: NATIVE SURGERY
A friendly native wounded in the foot is being doctored by one of his
friends.]
We lunched and spent the heat of the very hot day in the open valley in
front of Wedza’s mountain, watched with curiosity by hundreds of rebels
on the hill–tops; and then we moved off early in the afternoon to
tackle the ridge of hills that lay on the opposite side of the valley.
Working our way on to the top of this ridge, we moved along it from
end to end, capturing rebels’ kraals, of which there were about half
a dozen dotted along its length. The ridge was grown with thick bush
and forest, and though we came across a few natives from time to time,
they always managed to elude us in the jungle; we also saw a fine wild
boar, which caused quite a flutter in my breast. “If I only had you in
the open, my friend!” thought I. “If only you had a horse that was fit
enough to come anywhere near me!” grinned he. And so we parted.
[Illustration: WEDZA’S STRONGHOLD
A mountain consisting of six rocky peaks of about 800 to 1000 ft.:
on the summits of these are the kraals and caves held by rebels. The
position is over two miles long, and one and a half deep.]
We took, altogether, four kraals, burnt them, and captured half a
dozen cattle, and a number of goats and sheep; the natives all bolted
into the bush or into caves in the cliffs of the hill. We got down off
the ridge just as darkness was coming on, and we bivouacked out in
the open plain pretty well tired out; but I have every hope that the
advice we gave Wedza, and the surprise we gave him in the unexpected
presence of our little force at his doors, and the object–lesson which
the burning of the kraals and the capture of cattle on the opposite
ridge must have afforded him, will, at least, shake his confidence,
and help to simplify our task of capturing his stronghold, for it is a
nasty–looking place to tackle, indeed, almost impossible for a small
force. Laing had visited it, but considered it far too big a job for
a column of two hundred and fifty men, and it will take every man of
Paget’s column and mine combined to effect anything. The stronghold
itself is a long mountain, consisting of six peaks of about eight
hundred feet high, its total length being about two and a half miles,
and its width about a mile and a half. On the extreme top of five of
the peaks are perched strong kraals, and in addition to these there
are three small kraals on the side of the mountain; underneath each
of the kraals are labyrinths of caves. The mountain itself has steep,
boulder–strewn, bush–grown sides, generally inaccessible, except where
the narrow, difficult paths lead up to the various strongholds, and
these paths have been fortified by the rebels with stockades and with
stone breastworks, and in many places they pass between huge rocks,
where only one man could squeeze through at a time. The paths are
commanded by loopholes for musketry from the caves. The kraals are
collections of circular mud huts with thatched roofs, built on crags
near the tops of the hills, and on the most inaccessible rocks among
them are perched the corn–bins; these grain stores are little circular
pillars exactly like pillar letter–boxes at home, but made of wattle
and daub, with a small thatched roof; a little hole is left near the
top of the bin, just as the hole for letters in the letter–box, and
through this hole the corn is poured into the bin. When full, the hole
is sealed up with a flat stone and mortar. When one loots a kraal, the
first thing to do is to knock out this stone, look in, and if there is
corn there of the kind that you require, make a hole in the bottom of
the wall and apply the mouth of your sack to it, and the corn will run
in.