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полная версияThe Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years\' Residence in Kaffirland

Ward
The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland

Chapter VIII.
Expedition across the Kei

Early in July, Colonel Somerset proceeded on an expedition across the Kei, in pursuit of the treacherous chief, Páto, who had carried his plunder towards Kreli’s country. Kreli is the son of Hintza, who was shot during the former war by a colonist of the name of Southey, while endeavouring to escape from Colonel, now Sir Harry Smith. Kreli had declared he would not receive Páto, and it had yet to be proved whether the former was faithful or treacherous to us: if faithful, it was for policy’s sake, and not from any sense of honour.

Colonel Somerset having remained absent on this expedition longer than was expected, great anxiety was felt for his safe return to the Governor’s camp; when, on the 30th of July, intelligence was received at Graham’s Town that he had crossed the Kei, and taken between six and seven thousand head of cattle, from Páto’s people. The Kaffirs, it is said, were very daring; their dread of losing cattle is the only thing that gives them any courage to face the troops, but the dispatch mentions that “the moment the troops crossed the Kei, the enemy fled in all directions.” Before passing the river, the wretches dared them with their usual cry of “Izapa!” The Fort Peddie Fingoes, intent on cattle also, fought desperately—nothing could restrain them; one only was killed and one wounded. Captain Groenenwaldt, of the Swellendam division of Burghers, was badly wounded, after having captured two thousand head of cattle—is said, with eleven men. But, when such false statements were made against the military, it is difficult to believe all the fine things in favour of the civilians, especially when I know that many things that could be said militating against the latter, were carefully concealed from the public. We have often known the troops sent out to remedy the disasters and losses of the irregular forces; when, if the latter were only dismounted Hottentots, no blame was attributed to them, however careless they might have been. This is injurious, for we know not what faith to put in the favourable reports on civilians, however truly they may deserve them.

Mr Shepstone, Government Interpreter in command of the Fingoes, had a narrow escape in re-crossing a drift. The Kaffirs, with their usual cunning, allowed him to pass it; but, in returning, they completely surrounded him. Mr Shepstone ordered his men to lie down, and in this position they fired on each foe as he crept out of his ambush. Having beaten them, they attacked another body, and recaptured two thousand head of cattle, on the point of being carried off from a weak party of Fingoes. On this occasion, Mr Shepstone was struck on the head by a spent ball, which had, however, sufficient force to hurt him considerably.

On the second day of the expedition, the body of a Chief, in a tiger-skin kaross, was dug up18. It was not recognised, and was, of course, of inferior note. On approaching the Kei, the Colonial infantry halted to breakfast at a kraal, where they found an old woman19. They learned from her that the cattle “had only moved that morning,” Mr Melville having heard the report confirmed by some goatherds whom he had taken prisoners in seizing the goats, pushed on with two hundred Hottentots, and recaptured some cattle, and the next day thousands more were seen on the other side of the river. Captain Donovan, Cape Mounted Rifles20, led a party of the Cape Corps across the river; the guns and the rest of the cavalry lining the heights. Captain Donovan brought back several head of cattle to Colonel Somerset, and bivouacked for the night. It was a miserable one. Cold, dark, and very wet; no tents, scarcely any provision, and but slight covering! Little rest could be obtained, for the enemy and the Fingoes kept up an incessant exchange of shots, yelling and shouting to each other like demons. Some of the prisoners admitted that Páto was near the sea, and observed that Umhala had “died at the Gwanga,” but this was no doubt figurative, implying that his power was broken; he was dead as a Chief. Mr Melville, who had lost his way, returned, July 21st, to Colonel Somerset’s camp, bringing with him a large herd of cattle, having killed five Kaffirs in taking it. As the colonial infantry were all sadly knocked up with fatigue and hardship, it was now determined by Colonel Somerset that the three prisoners should be sent with messages to Umhala, Páto, and Kreli, previously to the return of the troops. So, drawing up his forces in line along the heights above the drift of the Kei, three rounds of artillery were fired, and the prisoners sent off with a message to the effect that “Colonel Somerset had fired three guns on these heights, to say that he took possession of that country, from the Fish River to the Kei, for the Government—one gun for Kreli, because he had given shelter to Páto, the great enemy of the Colony; one gun for Páto; and one for Umhala—that these guns were only the forerunners of what was to come; that we were going to the Amatolas, to attack the Gaikas, and that afterwards we would return to the Kei.” The prisoners were then set free; they kissed Colonel Somerset’s feet, and rushed down the hill towards the river. On the great guns being fired, the Kaffirs on the heights about two miles off, fled as fast as possible.

As the division marched back, the Kaffirs showed themselves, in small parties, following in the rear, and at night continued to harass the troops by firing into the camp. The next day, the 22nd July, both men and horses were knocked up, and the former were frequently obliged to walk. About sunset, Mr Melville’s party were followed closely by the enemy; and, had they not received assistance from Colonel Somerset’s division in front, they would have had some hot work, as the savages were four times their number. All along the line of march the Kaffirs continued to fire at them; fifty-eight horses were left dead: during the whole of the night, the enemy kept up a fire upon the camp, without effect. On the 23rd, men and horses began to fail in strength, for want of provision; and, tired and famished, the troops had to fight their way, as the enemy fired from every ambuscade along the line of march; horses and cattle dropping fast. After sunset, they were again beset by savages, whose fires were visible from the bivouac. Lying in a circle round the cattle, little rest could be obtained; the Kaffirs shouted and yelled as usual, saying they now had the Umlunghi “in a calabash.” As this insolence continued, it was supposed the Gaikas had come down from the Amatolas to help Páto’s people; and thus, a rush being expected, the men were ordered to stand to their arms till daylight. In the middle of the night, while this sharp firing from the enemy was at its height, a man’s ammunition blew up, wounding himself and two other men. Some horses were also stolen, in spite of all precaution and vigilance. Two or three Kaffirs were shot.

Right glad were the troops to reach the General’s camp, and the Governor himself must have been much relieved at their return, especially with such booty.

On the 26th of July, Colonel Hare left Fort Beaufort with a thousand troops. Captain Ward, 91st Regiment, was appointed Commandant of Beaufort during the absence of the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Andries Stockenstrom having taken the field some weeks before. Sir Andries had had a conference with the Tambookies, who some time before had come down upon the Hottentot settlement on the Kat River, and done considerable mischief. This mischief being done, and the Tambookies having no doubt shared the plunder with the Gaikas, they promised to take no further part against the Colony! The affair at the Gwanga, and the approach of the planting season, were two grand incentives to them to “sit still,” but, as long as the cattle were known to be in Tambookie-land, how could any arrangements be satisfactory?

On the day that Colonel Hare left Fort Beaufort, the 26th of July, Sir Andries Stockenstrom put his Burgher force in position, moved in the night from Block Drift, and, on reaching the Tyumie, had a spirited engagement with Macomo’s people (Gaikas), who had entrenched themselves in those fastnesses. Sir Andries Stockenstrom’s plans of attack were generally admitted to be good; his movements were made in the night, and were as stealthy as those of the savages themselves. It was at dawn of day, after spending the night on the ridge of the mountains, that Sir Andries divided his force into parties of two hundred, and entered the bushy kloofs of these strongholds, where they were soon engaged with the enemy. As I have only had hearsay evidence on this subject, I can give no description of the fight from good authority, but it seems to have been a smart affair, Sir Andries cheering his men, who fought, it is said, till their ammunition was nearly expended. Many Kaffirs are reported to have fallen in this engagement. The enemy might be said to have been nearly hemmed in. That part of the country where the Kei, the Bashee, and the Umtata have their sources, is described as being of an “impracticable character,” and abutting upon the territories of the Tambookie Chief, Umtitara, and of the Amaponda Chief, Faku. With the former, Sir Andries had already made “arrangements,” and received promises of good faith! Faku offered his services to the Government at the beginning of the war, but it was not considered expedient to accept them. He, however, it is said, received permission to seize such cattle as he could take from our Kaffir foes; and, as he destroyed women and children without mercy, he became an object of great terror “to all the country round.” No reliance could be placed on the good faith of any of these Chiefs, but they seem to have deemed it politic to “sit still” and plant their own, provided we did not try to seize the cattle.

 

On the 5th of August, the enemy approached Colonel Hare’s division under the Amatolas, and commenced hostilities by firing; this was returned by the troops, and continued for some time. Serjeant Barnes, of the Royal Sappers and Miners, was shot through the heart, and a serjeant of the Provincials was also killed, besides eight or nine coloured people being wounded. Before sunrise the next morning, the two divisions under Colonel Hare and Sir Andries Stockenstrom were in motion, and the former, seeing the Fingoes hesitate for a moment at the edge of a bush, raised his cap, gave three hearty cheers, and led the way himself. The old soldier’s Irish blood was fairly up. The fight continued till sunset, and during the action blue-lights and rockets were thrown up at intervals, as signals to the head-quarter division, but there was no answering signal, nor could it be ascertained where this division actually was. On the following morning all was preparation for a second engagement; but, as usual, the enemy had slipped away in the night, like a Will o’ the wisp, towards the Buffalo. Colonel Hare moved on to Fort Cox, where Sir Andries was to join him, after scouring some of the difficult passes of the mountains, where the Fingoes and Hottentots fought desperately, climbing the heights in the face of the enemy’s fire.

After Colonel Somerset’s return from the Kei, the cavalry were too much done up for further work without rest for men and horses; one hundred and fifty-seven horses were in such a jaded state, that it was found necessary to shoot them, and many others died. The Kaffirs harassed the troops when they dared not meet them, by firing into the camps at night, while other parties set fire to the grass, to destroy even the wretched pasturage left for the toil-worn cattle.

In order to recruit the exhausted strength of his division, Colonel Somerset bivouacked within five miles of Fort Peddie, near the Gwanga. Until the cattle and horses were in better condition, it was quite impossible to continue offensive operations.

The only circumstance on which, at this period, the mind could rest with satisfaction, was the success attending the landing of stores and supplies at the Fish River mouth. It is to be hoped that Mr Cock, at the Kowie, will reap the reward of many years’ perseverance. Still the want of rain continued to destroy our hopes of vegetation, and sickness prevailed in many districts.

Some extracts from my Journal will serve to give an idea of our defenceless position in Graham’s Town; and though the perils, privations, and terrors of women have little to do in the working of the great machine of warfare, they can hardly fail to excite some interest among those who in happy England cannot fully appreciate the blessings of peace, from the circumstance of their never having endured the horrors of war. I shall relate, as concisely as possible, our own privations, alarms, and anxieties.

“August 1st.—Kaffir fires seen in the distance: in the evening, received intelligence from head-quarters relative to Colonel Somerset’s engagements on the other side of the Kei, and capture of the cattle.

“Colonel Somerset could have captured more than he did, but he had not force to retain them. Every night his bivouacs were surrounded by Kaffirs, who fired continually into them; sometimes in derision, at others in anger. Some called out to the troops, ‘Take care of the calves you have got, we will have them in two years!’ Others exclaimed, ‘Let us rush upon them!’ ‘No, no,’ said another party, ‘who ever heard of attacking a kraal of guns?’ Some crept nearer the bivouac, and entreated their favourite pack-oxen to come out to them: ‘What business,’ said they, ‘have you among white men? Come out to us—we will treat you kindly. Leave the Umlunghi, who will ill-use you and make you work.’

“Thus they harassed the troops during the whole march; hanging on their rear in the day-time, and, at night, obliging them to keep up a constant peppering. At the drifts there was always troublesome work.

“August 2nd, Sunday.—I am always more impressed with the strange appearance of the town on Sunday than on any other day; every one who can, making his way to church, and business suspended; shots, too, above the town along the hills, and the rattle of arms and accoutrements in the streets, are more audible on Sunday than in the bustling week-days, Another thing I have frequently remarked; the news of whatever occurs in the field generally reaches us on the Sabbath, and we often say, ‘To-day is Sunday: I wonder what intelligence we shall have.’

“August 3rd.—A beautiful day. It is quite grievous—yes, melancholy, to see the sun scorching the earth, and know that the cattle must die for want of food, and that there will be no vegetation this year. We have had no rain for months, except slight showers for a day or two. To-day, some young girls have assembled in my cottage-garden to celebrate a birthday. What a relief it is to have left the confinement of the dreadful barrack for this small cottage on the hill! We are scarcely considered in a safe position, but we grew weary of the gaol-like Drostdy, and succeeded in getting shelter at Fort England—misnamed a fort—where a few of the 91st are in quarters.

“But the birthday. None of our little female community had been merry since April; but this bright day I resolved to be cheerful, and to put aside my child’s books and my own employments; and, since the sun would shine, and not oppressively, to enjoy it. First, there were flowers to gather and arrange. I wanted some arums, the beautiful lilies of the yam plant, so the girls went down below the parched, uncultivated garden, to a stream now almost dry and desecrated by Hottentot washerwomen: they there witnessed melancholy ‘signs of the times,’—nine dead animals lay beside the dull and shallow stream. The poor starved creatures had crawled into the hollow to die. These things make but slight impressions on the young; they do not trace results, however sad, to their primary causes; so when they had replenished my flower-vase, away they went to their garden amusements. I mention these trivial things by way of contrast. She whose birthday we celebrated came down the path, with a gay wreath of flowers and foliage wound round her fair hair—happy, healthy, blooming, joyous sixteen! Thus I mused, as she stood laughing under a fine oak, just coming into leaf—like her, in its spring. Suddenly, in the distance we heard the boom of cannon echoing sullenly along the mountain-ridges, and through the kloofs and passes far away. The day was so still that we heard distinctly the rapid discharges of shot and shell! The servants told us they had heard these sounds of death and doom all the morning. We only knew they came from that part of the country where the regular troops were co-operating with Sir Andries Stockenstrom and his Burgher force. Gazing in that direction, my eye fell on a signal-tower on a hill-top. That tower, with many others, is now deserted, for three reasons. The first, and most cogent one is that, like the rest of its fellows, it is useless. The atmosphere of this climate scarcely ever permits communication by telegraph. Secondly, the men cannot be provisioned there in war-time. Of meat and biscuit they might lay in a stock, as if for sea; but water cannot be procured without risking life. Thirdly, in war-time, when the telegraphs would be of the utmost use, and would save time, labour, life, and horses, by making swift communications of the stealthy movements of the Kaffirs, the force on the frontier is so small that no men can be spared to work the signals.

“All the morning of that birthday we heard the cannon booming as we sat in the garden, and we afterwards learned that Macomo had been hemmed in and attacked in the Tyumie fastnesses, but with little success and some loss on our side. The enemy, as usual, harassed the troops, and then gave them the slip.

“5th. Kaffirs known to be in the immediate neighbourhood of Graham’s Town, an attack fully anticipated by some; fortunately, we never entered into these ‘alarms.’ The soldiers’ wives on the hill in extreme terror. Shots firing all day rapidly. I wonder more accidents do not occur among those who have lately learned the use of fire-arms. I stood at the gate in the evening and watched a fire very near the town: it blazed up for about ten minutes, and was extinguished as suddenly as it had been lit. Fires seen in other directions, supposed to be signals for a general assembly of the warriors in the mountains. More cattle stolen within three miles of us to-day. Walked down in the evening to the end of the green, to look at our defences. Sorry things! A square of thatched barracks, more like huts than houses, contains sometimes no more than fifteen soldiers, some of them left here as ineffective. Our space near the guardhouse is defended by a wooden stockade, breast-high, and two other passages are banked up about three feet high. No picquets at this end of the town, for want of men. We have a kloof just above the mess-house, and it was a few miles from there that Mr Norden, of the Yeomanry, was shot.

“6th. Our garrison is reinforced by a corps of liberated Africans, a happy, lazy-looking set, who are chiefly employed in escorting waggons. The Malays have also been brought in a body from Cape Town. They take the war coolly enough, and when off duty, lie about the green in the warm and moonlight nights, whistling and singing the most harmonious choruses. They will not enter the bush, and have never been of use in rescuing cattle.

“7th. Kaffir Jack, Cosani, arrived. He has rather a suspicious character, but has never proved unfaithful. His adventures would help to dress up a volume in Cooper’s style, for he lives much among the English, but can wander at will from one end of Kaffirland to the other. Some days ago, it was suspected that Umki’s son, Sio, had gone off to Kaffirland, on some treacherous mission from his wily father. Sir Harry Smith’s opinion of Umki was so bad, that he used to tell him plainly in reply to his fair promises, ‘Umki, you are a liar!’ Umki, however, never took offence at this. Falsehood is no disgrace among the Kaffirs; on the contrary, the greatest rogue is the best man. Jack came to say Sio had never been away. Just now Jack is under Umki’s stern guidance. At any time the word of a Kaffir is worth nothing. He asked about Sandilla. I told him there was no longer a chief of that name, that there had been one, who had been to his people as a string by which beads are held together. Sandilla had been the string, but it was broken, his people had been the beads, but they were scattered, unlinked for ever, and dispersed for and wide, and neither beads nor string could now be re-united. Jack bent down his head and mused with his hands clasped for some minutes, and said, ‘It is good.’ Umki and his followers came up in the afternoon; two wives, servants, and children. He and his ragged retinue amused themselves by inspecting our defences, our open gardens, and our thatched houses. If Umki can communicate the true condition of Graham’s Town to his friends in Kaffirland, they may take advantage of it. I am sure the Governor, if he were in Graham’s Town, would not allow this treacherous refugee to wander at large as he does. News from the camps—unsatisfactory—Kaffirs still firing into the bivouacs. Lieut. Stokes, R.E., slightly wounded by a sentry, Mr S having imprudently ventured beyond the lines.

 

“August 8th.—The Kaffirs have again entered the Colony in numerous bodies, and continue plundering and murdering as usual. We hear this day of the arrival of the 45th in Simon’s Bay on the 30th July. The distance they have to travel would in England be journeyed in about forty hours; we shall now observe the period that elapses between the arrival of the 45th in Simon’s Bay, near Cape Town, and their entrance into Graham’s Town, as well as that between their departure from Graham’s Town and their arrival in the immediate front of the army in Kaffirland. It is to be hoped that their approach will daunt the enemy, but the Kaffirs have learned their power ever since the disastrous affair at Burn’s Hill; and, in spite of occasional reverses, the tide has hitherto been in their favour. Their losses, considering their number, have been trifling; they have possessed themselves of the colonial cattle, and they have cut off vast quantities of our supplies, while we are obliged to pause. We have driven the great body of them out of the ceded territory, it is true, but they have taken most of the plunder with them into a richer and more fertile country. The month of July has been marked by the death of one of the Colony’s most promising and creditable settlers. Mr Gordon Nourse, Assistant Commandant of the Burgher Force, was shot by the enemy, while assisting a neighbour to rescue his cattle. Sir Andries Stockenstrom, in announcing officially the death of Mr Nourse, says, ‘He fell yesterday in a gallant attack made by himself at the head of a small party upon a body of Kaffirs in the jungle. The Commandant-General has to lament the loss the service has sustained of one of the most efficient, zealous, and meritorious officers under his command.’

“9th, Sunday. Sad news from a place known by the hideous name of Hell’s Poort. Five burghers have been shot by Kaffirs in that terrible pass. A party of nineteen having entered a rocky and bushy kloof in search of some cattle, they were fired upon by some Kaffirs posted on the summit of the hills on either side. The burghers, being surrounded by 200 Kaffirs, and their ammunition getting low, retired to their camp for a reinforcement, with which they returned, and again faced the enemy. Among the five who fell, were two brothers of the name of De Villiers, the history of whose death is a mournful one. As one brother fell wounded to the ground, the other ran to him to comfort and support him in his dying moments. His friends called him away; he would not stir, but held his young brother’s hand in his, till a shot from the savages brought him down, and laid him beside him whom he would not forsake to save his own life.

“10th. The bodies of the five Stellenbosch Burghers were brought in to be buried. A concourse of people followed the melancholy train of five coffins through the town to the burial-ground.

“13th. Rain, at last! gentle showers. Only those who have looked on the parched soil of Africa can have an idea of the blessing of rain after a long drought. It sounds quite musical as it patters on the few trees that are in the garden. The enemy have laid waste the country from the Buffalo to the Kei. What a sight must those vast tracts of country be, when blazing! The grass will spring up all the fresher for it, afterwards.

“17th. Walked into town. As we passed the Wesleyan Chapel, we saw Umki and his wives and children basking idly in the sun on the pavement near the chapel-porch. Umki was set aside by his tribe for being a coward in the last war, so now he bestows his unwelcome company on the English, roaming about, begging from every one he meets, spending what he gains at the canteens.

“19th. My child’s birthday! these seem trifles to touch upon; to us they only bring sad memories when we compare the present state of war and anxiety with happy anniversaries passed in peaceful England. News from the head-quarter division. The General is encamped at a place called Fort Beresford, so named in the last war by Sir Benjamin D’Urban, in compliment to one of his aides-de-camp. Colonel Johnstone, 27th Regiment, had led about 300 infantry over the Buffalo mountains, while Colonel Somerset, with a cavalry column and guns, had gone round the base of the hills, the infantry, ascending to the summit in single file, and Mr Melville’s Hottentots mounting the hill in another direction, killed three Kaffirs and captured some cattle. The troops bivouacked for the night on the ridge. Next day, every bush and kloof was scoured, but neither shots nor yells, nor the old cry of ‘Izapa!’ was heard in those now solitary places, the enemy having decamped in the night. At one time, a party of horsemen were discovered winding leisurely along an eminence at some little distance, and this was afterwards ascertained to be the chief Seyolo and his people coolly riding off from the vicinity of the troops, who, they knew, would have great difficulty in catching them, from their having no cavalry with them.

“In spite of the silence which reigned in these solitudes, there were evident traces of hasty retreat, by the fresh spoor of cattle; but to detail this march up the hill and down again, would be but a repetition of many other such expeditions. The Kaffirs slipped away, and the troops followed them with their ammunition loose in their pouches, to be ready for action, but returned harassed, disappointed, and half-starved.

“The country through which they passed is of a much grander and more fertile character than that occupied by the colonists; and, were the Buffalo and Keiskama rivers opened to trade, an immense increase of commerce would be the result.” (This desirable change has since been effected by Sir Harry Smith.)

“The head-quarter division, consisting of part of the 91st and 90th Regiments, under Major Yarborough (91st), two troops of the 7th Dragoon Guards, and some of the Cape Corps, remained encamped at Fort Beresford, the whole being under the command of Sir Peregrine Maitland. Colonel Somerset, Cape Mounted Rifles, and Colonel Richardson, 7th Dragoon Guards, having reported their horses unfit for duty, it was resolved that the main body of the cavalry should take up a position where both men and horses could rest and be refreshed. As soon as the horses that remain recover from the late fatigue and starvation, the country will be patrolled and kept, until more decisive measures can be framed, and the worn-out cattle are fit for more active operations.

“The Kaffirs have long remained in small detached bodies in the neighbourhood of the camp, firing into it at night and lying in wait for occasions of theft, or mischief, all day. A prisoner was brought in one day, who asserted that the woods close by were full of women and old men. Although Macomo had ordered his men not to fight, they were determined to plunder and murder, and crept into the colony and round the orders as usual. ‘Young Kaffirland’ had gone over the Kei for the present, with the stolen cattle.

“Troops were sent into the woods, to bring in some of the prisoners. The poor heathen females are employed in carrying powder and provisions from one ambuscade to another, and it is therefore necessary to search them. But they are not easily intimidated; and, when threatened by the military, who to frighten them put their muskets to their shoulders, they calmly put the pieces on one side, and as there was little to repay any one for the trouble of carrying off a set of Kaffir women against their will, they were left in the woods, where, no doubt, corn was buried for their provision. Great scarcity, however, must prevail with them, as the crops failed last year.

“On the 15th of August, fourteen poor waggon-drivers, chiefly Fingoes and Hottentots, went into the kloofs of the mountains to search for corn, and, seeing some cattle, were led miles away. A strong force of Kaffirs, seeing the weakness of their party as they emerged upon an open plain, rushed upon them, and, it is supposed, killed all but one, who crept into a bush, and, lying by till night, made his way back to the camp, with the melancholy intelligence. Lieutenant Owen, with a party of the 90th, was sent out in search of these poor creatures, but found only one body. The rest had probably been borne off, to suffer torture and mutilation. The savage brutality of the Kaffir is not satisfied with taking life, or even by immediate mutilation. Some Hottentots having been decoyed to a bush by some goats being placed at the edge of it to graze, they were seized by the Kaffirs, and murdered. The bodies, being discovered by the troops, were buried; but when a party again traversed the spot where they had been interred, it was found that the poor dead creatures had been dug up, mutilated, and impaled! I have lately heard a shocking anecdote, connected with the death of an unfortunate Hottentot, who, having been brought up as a Christian, wished to be allowed to make his peace with the Almighty ere he suffered death. Some wished to give him a few moments to devote to prayer, but others rushed forward, exclaiming, ‘Nonsense, kill him at once,—what is the use of his praying here? Have we not driven God Almighty from the land?’ The murder of the missionary Schulz dispelled the idea that such men were protected by an invisible power, an idea the Kaffirs always entertained before, and even since the commencement of the war. They have shown no respect for the missionary stations, for they have destroyed houses, chapels, and bibles; hence, their idea that they have ‘driven God from the land.’

18The Kaffirs are in the habit of burying their chiefs, but no other dead.
19It is the general custom of the Kaffirs to leave an old woman in a kraal as a spy. They manage to keep up a constant communication with her, and supply her with food.
20Captain Donovan nearly lost his life on the banks of the Gwanga, on the day of the memorable action there. On reaching a drift, whither he had led his horse to drink, four or five Kaffirs suddenly rushed upon him. His rifle was on the ground, and there was no time to draw his sword, before the musket of a savage was levelled at his head. A man named Brown, formerly a private in the 75th Regiment, coming up at this instant, snatched up Captain Donovan’s rifle, and shot the Kaffir dead on the spot.
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