THE OUTBREAK.
As it was possible that the detachment might remain for some time in
their present quarters, Lieutenant Daniels at once set them to work to
erect a couple of huts, each capable of holding ten men. Several of the
farmers sent two or three of their native labourers to assist in cutting
and bringing to the spot timber for the framework and supplying straw
for thatching the roofs. The operation was not a long one. The walls
were made with wattle plastered with mud, and the work was accomplished
in a couple of days. The men were glad of the shelter, for, although the
heat was very great during the day, the nights were cold and sharp. The
horses were picketed behind the huts; the officer took up his quarters
at a farmhouse a hundred yards away. Once housed, the men had little to
do, for, in the daytime, there was no fear of the Kaffirs coming down on
their plundering expeditions, such attempts being only made at night.
When evening fell, the saddles were placed on the horses, and the men
lay down in their clothes, simply taking off their jackets and
jack-boots, so as to be in readiness to turn out at a moment's alarm.
Sometimes they rode out in small parties patrolling the whole country,
not with any idea of finding cattle-thieves, but merely to give
confidence to settlers, whose Kaffir servants were sure to give
intelligence to their friends in the bush of the presence of the Mounted
Rifles in the neighbourhood.
When they had been there a fortnight they heard that the Governor had
come to King Williamstown, and had summoned the various chiefs to
assemble there. They had all come with the exception of the paramount
Chief Sandilli, had assured the Governor of their fidelity, sworn
allegiance anew, and ratified it by kissing the stick of peace. The
Governor was so satisfied with their assurances that he issued a reply
to the petitions of the colonists, saying that reports throughout
British Kaffraria were most satisfactory, that the chiefs were
astonished at the sudden arrival of the troops, and that he hoped to
arrest some of the Kaffirs who had spread the alarming reports. The
Governor gave his solemn assurance to those of the settlers who had left
their farms that there was no occasion for alarm.
A commission, however, appointed by him to investigate the numerous
complaints of the settlers, speedily forwarded to him such alarming
accounts of the critical state of affairs, that he again left for the
frontier, taking with him from Cape Town the 73rd Regiment and a
detachment of artillery. A proclamation was at once issued for the
establishment of a police force, the enrolment of new levies and of a
corps of volunteers for self-defence, so as to leave the whole of the
military at liberty for operations.
One day, towards the end of November, Ronald and a comrade had ridden
some twelve miles out of the station, when they saw a young lady on
horseback riding towards them. She drew rein when she reached them.
"We have had fifty cattle driven off in the night," she said, "and some
of the neighbours have followed the trail. I am riding over to report
the fact to your officer."
"We can report it," Ronald said, "and save you the trouble of riding
further; but if you like we will ride back with you first, and see if we
can be of any service."
"I am afraid it will be no use," the girl said; "they will be in the
woods before they can be overtaken, and then, you know, there will be
nothing to do but to report where their trail ended and wait for the
chance of getting compensation from the chief."
By this time they were galloping back with her. The tale was similar to
scores of others they had heard since their arrival in the valley, and
they knew that there was but slight chance of recovering the trail, the
order being stringent that they were on no account to enter the bush.
The cattle, therefore, were as good as lost, for all were well aware
that in the present state of things there was but little prospect of
receiving compensation from the chief. The party found, indeed, upon
their arrival at the farmhouse, which was a large and comfortable one,
and furnished in English style, that the neighbours had returned, having
traced the spoor of the stolen cattle up to the edge of the bush.
The farmer came out to the door as his daughter rode up.
"Come in," he said to the troopers, "and have some refreshment. The
rascals have got away again. I expect that they are some of my old
servants, for they knew the trick of the fastenings I have had put to
the gate of the cattle-kraal, which would certainly have puzzled any of
the Kaffirs. Now sit down and make yourselves at home."
The other settlers were already seated at the table that the Hottentots
or, as they were always called, "tottie" servants, had laid with a
profusion of food. The young lady, still in her blue riding-habit, did
not sit down to the table, but moved about, seeing that the "tottie"
girls attended to the wants of the guests. She was, Ronald thought,
about eighteen years old, and had the graceful, active figure so common
among girls who spend much of their time on horseback. She was
strikingly pretty, and her expression of delicacy and refinement was
unusual among the daughters of the colonial farmers. This he was not
surprised at, when he glanced at her father, who was a fine-looking man,
with a gray moustache.
"I am always glad to see the uniform again," he said, presently, to
Ronald. "I served myself when I was a young man, and was an ensign in
the Rifles at Waterloo, but I got tired of soldiering in the times of
peace, and came out to the Cape thirty years ago, so you can well
understand that I am fond of a sight of the uniform again, especially
that of your corps, which is nearly the colour of my own. Well, I have
had pretty nearly enough of the Cape, and intend in another year or two
to go back home. I have moved a good many times, as you may imagine,
since I came out, but I don't like running away, and, besides, just at
present I should get nothing for my farm."
"I can imagine that farms are rather a drug in the market just now,"
Ronald replied, "especially those at the edge of the frontier. However,
we must hope that this trouble will blow over, and now that the Governor
is, as I hear, coming round with the 73rd, the Kaffirs may think better
of it."
"I think they have made up their mind to give us a little trouble," the
settler said. "Their witch-doctor, Umlanjeni, has been stirring them up
with all sorts of predictions, and Sandilli, who no doubt set him to
work, has, we know, been intriguing with the other chiefs. The sudden
disappearance of the Kaffir servants from all the farms of this part of
the country was, of course, in obedience to orders, and is certainly
ominous. They say that there are altogether three thousand muskets, six
million rounds of ball cartridge, and half-a-million assegais in the
hands of the natives. It has been a suicidal business allowing trade in
firearms and ammunition to be carried on with them. I wish that the
talkative fools at Cape Town who manage our affairs were all located
down on the frontier; they might learn some sense then as to the way of
dealing with the natives. But the worst sign of all is that, as I have
heard to-day from some of my Hottentots, the order has been given by
Umlanjeni to slay and eat."
"To slay and eat!" Ronald repeated in surprise. "What does that mean,
sir?"
"Ah, that question shows you have not been long in the colony," the
settler said. "You know, the Kaffirs live at ordinary times entirely
upon a vegetable diet, but it is their custom upon the approach of war
to eat meat, believing that flesh gives them courage and ferocity.
However, as it was only three weeks ago that the chiefs all swore to be
peaceable and faithful, I hardly think that there's any danger of an
outbreak for some time to come, perhaps not for some months. You see, it
is just midsummer now, and my crops are nearly fit for cutting. I sent
most of my cattle away a fortnight since, and when I have got my crops
in I shall shut up the house and move into Grahamstown. We have many
friends there, and shall stop there until we see what comes of this
business, and when it is all over I shall dispose of my farm. I do not
think there is any real danger here. We have always been on excellent
terms with the natives, and Anta, who is chief of the tribe in this
part, often comes down here and begs a bottle of Cape smoke or a pound
of tobacco. He has smoked many a pipe in this room, and treacherous as
the people are, I cannot think that he would allow his men to do us any
harm. He generally addresses me as his white brother."
An active conversation was at the same time going on between the other
guests, who were discussing the farm at which it would be best for
neighbours to assemble in case of attack. The settler, whose name was
Armstrong, had placed Ronald next himself, while his comrade was at the
other end of the table, these being the only seats vacant at the table
when they entered. Ronald and the settler chatted quietly together for
some time. Mary Armstrong, who had taken her place leaning on the back
of her father's chair, when she had seen the guests attended to,
occasionally joined in.
Mr. Armstrong was pleased with his guest.
"I hope next time when you ride over in this direction you will call in
again," he said. "I can assure you that we shall be heartily glad to see
you, and, if you can get leave off duty for a night, to put you up. It
is a real pleasure to me to have a chat with some one fresh from
England, and to hear how things look after all these years. Why, I shall
hardly know the country again, cut up as it seems to be with these
railways."
After the meal was over, Ronald and his friend rode back to their
quarters.
"That's a nice-looking little girl," the trooper said, as they rode away
from the house; "they say her father is the richest man in these parts,
and that he owns a lot of property at the Cape. If I were him I should
live there instead of in this out-of-the-way place."
"I suppose he is fond of a country life," Ronald replied, ignoring the
first part of the remark; "I should think that society in Cape Town is
not very interesting."
"I don't know that," the other replied. "I know that if I had money
enough to settle down there you wouldn't find me many hours knocking
about here as a trooper."
"It's all a matter of taste," Ronald replied. "When I was at home I
lived in the country and prefer it to town, and like an active life in
the open air better than anything Cape Town could give me."
"That's a nice young fellow, Mary--that man in the Cape Rifles," Mr.
Armstrong said to his daughter the same evening. "I should say he is
altogether above his position, don't you think so?"
"I do not know that I thought much about it, father. Yes, I suppose he
wasn't like an ordinary soldier."
"Not at all, Mary, not at all. I fancy from what I have heard that there
are a good many young men of decent family serving in the corps. It's a
thousand times better for a young fellow who's got neither money nor
interest to come out here than to stay at home breaking his heart in
trying to get something to do. Yes. I should say from his talk, and
especially from the tone of his voice, that he has seen better days.
It's a pity the colony can't afford to keep on foot four or five
regiments of these Mounted Rifles. We should not hear much of native
troubles if they did. The natives are much more afraid of them than of
the soldiers; and no wonder. In the first place they are more accustomed
to the country, and in the second place they are armed with weapons that
will kill at a considerable distance, while Brown Bess is of no use at
over a hundred yards. Well, I hope that young fellow will drop in again;
I should like another chat with him. It's a pleasant change to meet any
one who is willing to talk on some subject other than natives, and
crops, and cattle."
A week later, Ronald was sent with a despatch to King Williamstown.
"There will be no answer, Blunt," Lieutenant Daniels said, as he handed
it to him; "at least, no answer of any consequence. So you can stay a
day in the town if you like."
"Thank you, sir; but as I do not care for towns, I will, if you will
allow me, stop on my way back at Mr. Armstrong's. That is where the
cattle were stolen the other day, and it will not be far out of my way
from King Williamstown. He invited me to stay there for a day if I could
get leave."
"Certainly, you can do so," the lieutenant said. "You can hear if there
is any news of the Kaffirs stirring in that neighbourhood; they seem to
have been a bit more quiet for the last week or so."
Two days later Ronald drew rein in front of Mr. Armstrong's house, late
in the afternoon.
"I have taken you at your word, Mr. Armstrong," he said, as the farmer
came to the door.
"I am glad to see you," the other said, cordially. "It is not a mere
flying visit, I hope; but you will be able to stay with us till
to-morrow?"
"Thank you, yes. I am not due at the station till to-morrow evening, and
am my own master till then. I have been carrying a despatch to
Williamstown."
"We have had some of the Kaffir police here to-day," the farmer said to
him while they were at supper. "What do you think of them?"
"They seem smart fellows, and well up to their duty. So far as I can see
they are just the sort of men for border police work."
"Yes," Mr. Armstrong agreed, "on any other border but this. To my mind
they are much too closely related to the fellows in the bush to be
trustworthy. They are all well enough for following up a trail or
arresting a stray thief, and would, I dare say, be quite reliable if
opposed to any tribe to which they were not akin, but I doubt whether
they will stand to us if there is trouble with Sandilli, Macomo, and the
rest of them. You see how powerful the influence of these chiefs is.
When the order came, pretty nearly every Kaffir in this colony left
instantly, many of them leaving considerable arrears of wages behind. If
the tribal tie is so strong that men entirely beyond the reach of their
chief come home the instant they are summoned, how can it be expected
that the Kaffirs in this police force will fight against their own
kindred?"
"It does not seem reasonable to expect such a thing, certainly," Ronald
agreed. "I cannot think myself why they did not raise the force among
the Fingoes. They are just as fine a race as the Kaffirs, and speak the
same language, and yet they are bitterly hostile to them."
"Yes, it would have been better," Mr. Armstrong said. "I think that
there was a prejudice against the Fingoes in the first place. They were
not a powerful people like the Gaikas and Galegas and Basutos. A good
many of them had escaped from the chiefs who held them in subjection,
and came in and loafed about the colony. As all Kaffirs are given to
thieving and drunkenness whenever they get the chance, the colonists
looked down upon them more than upon the other natives. Not that there
is any reason for their doing so, except that they saw more of them, for
all the Kaffirs are the same in that respect."
"Do you think it is safe stopping here, Mr. Armstrong?" Ronald asked.
They had been talking of the various cattle-stealing raids that had
taken place at various points of the frontier.
"I still think so for the present. By New Year's Day I shall have got my
crops in, and then I will go into town, as I told you I would; but in
the meantime five or six of our nearest neighbours have agreed to move
in here; I have the largest farm hereabout, and we could stand a stout
siege."
"I am glad to hear that, Mr. Armstrong; the same thing has been done in
a good many places and in that way you should be quite safe. I quite
think the Kaffirs capable of coming down in small parties and attacking
isolated houses, and murdering their occupants; but after their late
protestations of fidelity, I cannot believe that the chiefs would permit
anything like large parties to sally out to make war."
"That is my idea. But they are treacherous hounds, and there is never
any trusting them."
"If you can manage to send one of your Fingoes off with news to us, you
may be sure we shall be with you in the shortest possible time, and we
will soon make mincemeat of them."
"Do not be too sure of that. I don't say in the open they would stand
against a force of cavalry anywhere approaching their own numbers, but I
can tell you that in the bush I consider they are fully a match for our
troops man to man. What chance has a soldier with his clothes and fifty
or sixty pounds weight on his back, who goes crashing along through the
bushes and snapping the twigs with his heavy boots, against a native who
can crawl along stark naked without making the slightest noise, and who
gives the first intimation of his presence by a shot from behind a tree,
or a stab with his spear? When I came out here I had naturally the same
ideas as you have, and scoffed at the notion of naked savages standing
up against a regular soldier, but I can tell you I have changed my
opinion, and if the tribes under Sandilli are really in earnest, I
promise you that you will want five times as many troops as we have got
in the colony to tackle them."
Two days later a message arrived with orders to Lieutenant Daniels to
rejoin with his detachment at once. On the 16th of December the whole of
the troops in Albany and British Kaffraria were assembled and moved
under the Commander-in-Chief towards the Amatolas, the object being to
overawe the Gaikas without resorting to force, which was to be carefully
avoided. The troops consisted of the 6th, 73rd, and 93rd Regiments and
the Cape Mounted Rifles, altogether about 1,500 strong, with two
divisions of the Kaffir police. The force moved in three columns. The
Governor, who was with the central column, was met by a great number of
the Gaikas chiefs, with about 3,000 of their men, at Fort Cox. They
again expressed their desire for peace, but their bearing and attitude
was not satisfactory. Sandilli and his half-brother, Anta, were declared
by the Governor to be outlawed, and a reward issued for their
apprehension.
A few days passed without further movement. On the evening of the 23rd,
Sergeant Menzies said to Ronald, whom he met just as he had come out
from Captain Twentyman's, "I have two pieces of news for you, Blunt. In
the first place, as you know, Corporal Hodges has lost his stripes and
has been sent back to the ranks for getting drunk. Captain Twentyman
asked me who I could recommend for the stripes, and I told him I thought
there was no one in the troop who would make a better non-commissioned
officer than you would. He said that you were the man he had his eye
upon. At ordinary times he should not have liked to give you your
corporal's stripes after being such a short time in the corps, but that
in the present state of things it was essential to have the best man who
could be picked out, irrespective of his length of service: besides, as
you have served before it makes it altogether a different thing."
"I am much obliged to you, sergeant," Ronald answered. "If it hadn't
been for this trouble I should have preferred remaining in the ranks. I
like a trooper's life and do not care about the extra pay one way or the
other. Besides, as a non-commissioned officer one has more
responsibility and less freedom. However, as it is I shall be glad of
the step, for doubtless if there is fighting there will be a lot of
scouting and escort work with very small detachments, and I confess I
would prefer being in command of five or six men on such work as that,
to being under the orders of a man who perhaps wouldn't know as well as
I do what ought to be done. And now what is your next news?"
"The next is that our troop and B troop are to form part of a column,
five hundred strong, that is to march to-morrow to a place where
Sandilli is supposed to be concealed."
"Well, we shall see then," Roland said, "whether these fellows mean
business or not."
"I was talking to the headquarter mess-sergeant. He tells me that the
Governor's cock-sure there will be no fighting, but that Sandilli will
either surrender at once or bolt before we get there."
"From all I can hear, sergeant, the Governor's opinions are usually
wrong. However, we shall see about it to-morrow, and, at any rate, it's
a good thing to have the question solved one way or the other. Nothing
can be worse for the colonists and every one else than this state of
suspense. The fellows will have to make up their mind one way or the
other now."
In the morning the detachment, five hundred and eighty strong, under
Colonel Mackinnon, marched from Fort Cox. The Kaffir police led the way,
and were followed by the Cape Mounted Rifles, the infantry forming the
rear. There were a good many natives about, but these shouted friendly
greetings as the column passed, and it proceeded quietly until it
reached the narrow rocky gorge of the Keiskamma, which could only be
traversed in single file. Ronald Mervyn had been placed in orders the
previous evening as corporal, and he was pleased to find by the remarks
of the men that they did not grudge him his promotion, for soldiers are
quick to recognise steadiness and ability, and they had long since
concluded that Harry Blunt, although he never spoke about his military
experiences, had served for some time, thoroughly knew his work, and had
been a non-commissioned officer, if not an officer.
"I don't like the look of this place at all," he said to Sergeant
Menzies as they halted at the mouth of the gorge. "If I were in command
of the force moving among a population who might any moment show
themselves hostile, I would not advance through this gorge till I had
sent a company of infantry on ahead to skirmish among the bushes, and
find out whether there is any one hidden there. On horseback as we are
we should be almost at their mercy."
"The Kaffir policemen ahead ought to have done that work," the sergeant
said. "Why, bless you, if there was as much as a fox lurking among the
bushes they could find him."
"Yes, I have no doubt they could if they wanted to," Ronald agreed, "but
the question is, do they want to? I have no faith whatever in those
Kaffir police. I have been watching them for the last day or two talking
to the Gaikas, and if the natives really mean mischief I would wager the
police join them."
It was now their turn to enter the gorge, and as they moved along in
single file, Ronald opened one of his holsters and held a revolver ready
in hand, while he narrowly scanned the bushes that came down to the
narrow path along which they were making their way. He drew a deep
breath of relief when he emerged from the pass. As the troop reached the
open ground they formed up and were about to move forward when they
heard a sudden outburst of musketry--at first the deep roar of the long,
heavy guns carried by the natives, and then quickly afterwards the
continuous rattle of the soldiers' muskets.
A cry of rage broke from the troopers. Captain Twentyman, who was in
command of the squadron, saw that cavalry could be of no use in the
gorge, and that they would only add to the confusion did they try to go
back to assist the infantry. He therefore spread them out in the shape
of a fan in front of the entrance to the gorge, to protect it against
any body of natives who might be approaching. Rifles in hand, and with
eyes straining into the forest ahead of them, the cavalry sat their
horses, anxiously listening to the din behind them. Presently the
infantry began to emerge, and at last the whole of the force was
reunited. It was found that the assistant surgeon and eleven men had
been killed, and two officers and seven privates wounded. They had,
however, beaten off the enemy with considerable loss.
As it was clear that, now the Kaffirs had broken into open war, it would
be unsafe in the extreme with the force under him to endeavour to
penetrate further, Colonel Mackinnon ordered the column to retire. The
gorge was thoroughly searched by infantry before the movement began, and
it was not until they had found it was completely deserted by the enemy
that the column moved back. They reached camp in the evening, and the
Governor, upon hearing what had taken place, immediately proclaimed
martial law, and ordered a strict inquiry to be made into the conduct of
the Kaffir police. In the morning, however, the encampment of the corps
was found deserted, three hundred and eighty-five men, taking with them
their wives, cattle, and equipments, having deserted to the enemy during
the night. Two strong patrols were sent out to carry the news to the
commanders of the other two columns, and to examine the state of the
country. They came upon a sight that enraged the troops, even more than
the attack upon themselves. A party of the 45th Regiment, consisting of
a sergeant and fourteen privates, escorting waggons from Fort White to
King Williamstown, had been suddenly attacked by the Kaffirs, who had
murdered the whole party.
Ronald Mervyn did not hear of this unprovoked atrocity at the time.
At daybreak, six detachments--drawn from the Cape Mounted Rifles, and
each composed of six men and a non-commissioned officer--were ordered to
start at once to various settlements on the border, to warn the
colonists of the outbreak of war. Ronald was placed in the command of
one of these detachments, and was chosen to lead that which was to warn
the settlers on the Kabousie River, as he was acquainted with the
country there. It was hoped that these detachments would arrive in time,
for it was supposed that the attack on the column had been an isolated
affair, the work of the tribe in the immediate neighbourhood.
Circumstances proved, however, that that action was only a part of a
preconcerted plan, for on the following day, which happened to be
Christmas, a simultaneous attack was made upon almost all the border
settlements.
Some of these were military villages, Government having at the
conclusion of the previous war given grants of land and assistance to
start in their farms to a number of discharged soldiers, upon the
condition of their turning out at any time for the defence of the
country. A number of prosperous little villages had thus sprung up, and
the settlers lived on most friendly terms with the neighbouring Kaffirs,
constantly entertaining them as their guests and employing many of them
on their farms. In a few cases the news of the fight at Keiskamma
arrived in time for the settlers to prepare for defence, but in the
great majority of cases they were taken by surprise and massacred, often
by the very men who had just been sharing their Christmas dinner. Many
of the villages were entirely destroyed, and in some cases not a single
man escaped to tell the tale.
It needed no orders for the messengers to use speed. Ronald and his men
went at a gallop, only breaking into a slower pace at times to enable
the men to breathe their horses. They had a long ride before them, and
anxious as he was to get on, it was necessary to spare the horses as
much as possible. He arrived at the station his detachment had before
occupied at about one o'clock. The inhabitants were just sitting down to
dinner. A good many Kaffirs were scattered about through the village.
These looked surprised at the arrival of a detachment of cavalry, and
gradually disappeared, supposing that Ronald's party was but the advance
guard of a larger body. As soon as the news spread, the inhabitants
hurried from their houses, men, women, and children, loaded with such
articles they could snatch up in their haste, and all hastened to the
building which they had before decided should be used as a citadel in
case of need. Boys galloped out to the fields to drive the cattle into
the kraal that had been constructed within easy range of the guns of the
defenders of the Fort. Men were placed on sentry, while others brought
in from the houses food, bedding, and clothes, and in a short time the
village was prepared for a defence.
Ronald made a stay of a few minutes only. A mouthful of food was given
to the horses, as he watched the settlers collecting for defence, and
then, satisfied that they were prepared against surprise here, he rode
on with his men. At the isolated farmhouses he passed, horses were put
into light carts as soon as his news was told. In these women and
children were stowed. A bundle or two of clothes were thrown in, the men
then mounted, and the whole made off at the top of their speed towards
the nearest town. A few of the younger men, and those unencumbered by
women and children, mounted their horses, and taking their arms, joined
Ronald's party. The next village was five miles from the first, and as
they approached they heard piercing screams mingled with yells. Putting
spurs to their horses the little party dashed on. Round each of the five
or six houses in the village were groups of Kaffirs, who were dragging
the inhabitants from the houses and massacring them. One or two shots
were heard as they rode up, showing that some of the men were selling
their lives dearly. With a shout, the little party of horsemen, counting
fifteen men, dashed in upon the Kaffirs. Taken wholly by surprise, the
latter did not see their foes until they were just upon them, and it was
too late to throw their assegais with effect. Pouring in a volley from
their rifles the troop rode in among them, hewing right and left with
their sabres, the sharp cracks of their pistols following in rapid
succession. With yells of dismay the Kaffirs, although numbering upwards
of a hundred, at once fled, making for the forest. The infuriated
troopers and settlers followed them, cutting down or shooting numbers
before they reached the shelter of the trees. In their rage they would
have followed them had not Ronald called them off.
"It would only be throwing away your lives to enter the wood," he said.
"We should have to dismount, and they could spear us as they chose.
Besides, we have other work to do."
They rode straight back to the village. More than half of the
inhabitants had been murdered, and the rest were gathered round their
dead friends in attitudes of despair, many of them streaming with blood
from several wounds.
"Friends," Ronald said, as he rode up, "you must be up and doing. You
must either gather in one house for mutual defence--for we have to ride
on and the natives will return as soon as we leave--or as will be much
wiser, put your horses into light carts, take the bodies of your
friends, some of them may be only stunned by the knobkerries, and drive
for your lives to the town. We will stop another ten minutes. The
natives will not venture out of the woods until we go on."
Ronald's words roused the unfortunate settlers from their stupor. The
men, aided by the troopers, harnessed the horses to the carts, lifted
the wounded and dead into them, and taking with them a few of their
valuables, drove away, and Ronald rode on with his party. At one or two
houses the attack had not begun, and the settlers at once harnessed up
and drove off. In others the party arrived too late to save, although
they were able to avenge by surprising and cutting up the treacherous
servants who, aided by the Gaikas from the hills, had murdered their
masters, and were engaged in the work of plunder when the troop rode up.
In each case they found that the Fingo servants had shared the fate of
their employers, showing that they had been kept in the dark as to the
deadly intentions of the Kaffirs.
As he neared the house occupied by his friends, the Armstrongs, Ronald
Mervyn's anxiety heightened. Each scene of massacre had added to his
fears, and he chafed at the comparatively slow rate of speed at which it
was now necessary to go in order to spare the tired horses. Presently he
heard the sound of distant firing in the direction in which he knew the
Armstrong's house was situated. It was a welcome sound, for although it
showed that the party were attacked, it gave hopes that they had not
been entirely taken by surprise, and were still defending themselves.
"Jones," he said, turning to one of the troopers, "you can't go faster
than you are going, but my horse has plenty in hand. I will ride on with
the burghers at full speed; you keep well together and follow as fast as
you can. If they make a fight of it with us, your coming up suddenly may
cow them and decide the matter."