Perils in the Transvaal and Zululand

“Oh, wouldn’t they!” exclaimed Captain Forester. “You have much too good an opinion of our countrymen, Mr Margetts. I am afraid they would not only give information, but supply them with Martini-Henrys and Colt’s revolvers, and Gatling guns too, if they could get hold of them, always provided they could make fifty per cent, by the bargain. However,” continued the captain, “if they had meant to stop you at all, they would have done so on your way here. Most probably the losses they sustained the other day have given them such a lesson that they won’t meddle with our men again.”

In another hour the two Dutchmen returned, having had a satisfactory interview with Mr Uys, and received the reply which was to be carried to Rorke’s Drift. A consultation was then held, and it was agreed that they had better set out immediately, as it would be possible, by sharp riding, to reach the camp before dusk. It was thought better to follow the same road on their way back, as that by which they had come, it being plain that it was a route known to very few, if to any but Matamo himself. They set out accordingly, and arrived without adventure at the point in the road whence Matamo had turned off. Considering now that all danger was over, they set off at a round trot by the way which ran along the river-side; when suddenly, as they were passing a mass of rock, the top and sides of which were hidden by foliage, a puff of white smoke issued from a bush, and a bullet was fired which would have struck Vander Heyden in the chest, if it had not happened that Walter Baylen’s horse plunged forward at the moment, so that the ball intended for the Dutchman entered Walter’s shoulder. Hardy instantly fired his revolver at the spot whence the smoke had issued; and all the party, putting spurs to their horses, galloped through the first opening that presented itself into the broken ground which lay on the other side of the rock. Half a dozen rough-looking fellows, alarmed by their approach, were just springing on their horses, and making off in all directions, as they came up. One of the party, who had been wounded, doubtless, by Hardy’s shot, was leaning against a tree unable to move. By the sergeant’s direction, Hardy and Matamo alighted from their horses, and proceeded to secure him, at the same time tying up a wound in the thigh which he had received. The two Baylens and Margetts lifted Walter from his horse, and proceeded to examine his hurt. The sergeant and Moritz went off in pursuit of one knot of fugitives; George and Vander Heyden after another. The latter were not above two hundred yards ahead, and there was a long stretch of down country without shrub or stone to break the prospect. As their horses were evidently better than those of the robbers, they expected to overtake them. After a gallop of half an hour, they had approached within fire, and George, discharging his pistol, wounded one of the horses in the leg. Perceiving that he could go no farther, the man sprang from his saddle, and confronted his antagonist. An expression of surprise broke from George, as he recognised the leader of the mutineers on board the Zulu Queen, John Bostock. Vander Heyden also appeared surprised, though he made no remark.

“You here?” exclaimed Rivers. “I did not expect it, but I am glad you will not escape the punishment you so richly deserve. I suppose you will surrender yourself our prisoner, or we shall fire upon you at once.”

“You are two to one, Mr Rivers,” said Bostock, “and you are both armed. But I call upon Mr Vander Heyden here, if he is not a coward, to meet me in fair fight. He knows that I am entitled to it. My birth is as good as his own, I have served in the same army as himself, and I have twice challenged him. He is fond of saying that the English would be no match for the Dutch, if it wasn’t for the advantages that their position in the colony gives them. Does he dare meet an Englishman now, without advantage on either side? Mr Rivers, here, may stand by, and see that there is fair play.”

“Mr Vander Heyden, surely you will not think of allowing this,” said George, as he saw the Dutchman alight from his horse, and proceed to secure him to a solitary thorn which grew on the down. “Let him say what he likes, he cannot be entitled to a meeting at your hands.”

“It may be he is not, Mr Rivers,” said Vander Heyden. “He is no doubt by birth a gentleman, and has held a commission in our army. I agree with you that he has so lowered and degraded himself, that he cannot claim his privilege, either as an officer or a gentleman. But let that be as it may, no soldier, and, above all, no Hollander, can refuse to meet him face to face. You must act for both parties, Mr Rivers, and see that everything is fair. No Englishman shall ever say I refused his challenge.”

“If you insist upon it, I suppose I must,” said George, who, though greatly vexed and disgusted, knew enough of Vander Heyden to be assured he would not give way on the point. “If this duel is to take place, it had better be immediately. What weapons do you propose?”

“What he pleases,” replied Vander Heyden shortly.

“Pardon me, Mr Vander Heyden,” said George, “but if I am to have the management of this affair, I cannot allow that. You are the challenged, and, by a rule everywhere acknowledged, have the choice of weapons. I choose pistols for you, and twelve paces is the distance at which you are to fire. I presume no objection is raised to either point.” He looked at Bostock, who, though somewhat disappointed, as George fancied, at the proposed arrangement, answered sullenly, “Choose what weapons you like.”

“Very well,” said Rivers. “Then here is my revolver and Mr Vander Heyden’s; they are by the same maker, and as nearly equal as two pistols can be. Take your choice of them, and stand, if you please, on that spot. Now, Mr Vander Heyden, in what manner will you fire – alternately or at the same moment?”

“Alternately; that is the usual practice here,” said Vander Heyden. “We can toss for who is to have the first fire.”

A florin was accordingly flung up, and it was found the right of shooting first fell to Vander Heyden.

The signal was given, he fired, and his bullet tore a button from Bostock’s breast. The Englishman then discharged his revolver, and the bullet struck Vander Heyden’s helmet, through which it cut a furrow, without wounding him, though he reeled under the blow.

“I presume that is enough,” said George. “He cannot claim more at your hands.”

“Does he demand more?” asked Vander Heyden.

“I do,” said Bostock. “I claim a second shot.”

“Let him have it,” said the Dutchman.

“If you must, you must,” exclaimed Rivers. “But take notice that I will allow no more. If you persist after this, I shall ride off the ground.”

Vander Heyden bowed stiffly, and, raising his revolver, delivered his second shot. It evidently struck his antagonist, who raised, and then dropped his arm, as if in pain. Hastening up, George discovered that he had been hit in the right wrist. The wound did not appear to be a dangerous one, but it was obviously impossible for Bostock to hold a pistol.

“I cannot have my revenge to-day,” he exclaimed sullenly, when the bleeding had been stopped, and the wound bound up. “But the day will come when I shall return your fire.”

“When you please, sir,” answered the Dutchman haughtily. “After an affair of this kind, you must be allowed to go free. If we meet again, it will be different. I shall not feel obliged to answer your challenge a second time.”

They parted, Bostock leading away his wounded horse, and the other two, remounting, rode back to their companions.

“Mr Rivers,” said the Dutchman when they had ridden, a short distance, “I thank you for your friendly offices. Will you add to them by being entirely silent about this adventure?”

“Certainly,” returned George; “it would not be desirable on many accounts to speak of it.” No more was said until they rejoined their companions, who were somewhat impatiently awaiting their return.

“Did you kill either of those fellows?” asked the sergeant. “I fancied I heard several shots fired.”

“No, they got off,” said George vaguely. “I hope Walter is not much hurt.”

“Only a flesh wound, George,” said Walter Baylen. “The worst of it is that I am afraid it will prevent me from joining the other fellows when they march. They tell me I shan’t be able to stir for three weeks to come.”

“Well, we had better start now, and lose no time,” said Rivers. “Matamo, you have got the prisoner safe, I see. Why, I declare it is Van Ryk! a good job too!”

Chapter Twelve

“Up and bestir yourself, Redgy!” cried George, entering the tent, which Margetts shared with Wilhelm Baylen, a few days afterwards. “Cetewayo’s time was up last night, and he has made no sign. The order to march has been given, and every one is already on the move. The mounted volunteers are to cross first, and our horses must be taken down to the Drift at once.”

“I am sorry to say Wilhelm and I are to be left behind,” said Margetts. “It’s an awful nuisance, but there’s no help for it.”

“Left behind!” repeated George. “Why, what is that for?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure; but last night, after you had left, there came an order that half a dozen of us would be required to stay on service here. Green didn’t know how to settle it to any one’s satisfaction, and it was determined at last to ballot for it. You are always in luck, George, and so are Ernest and Hardy, and the Dutchman Moritz. But Wilhelm and myself, and Vander Heyden – ”

“Vander Heyden, eh?” interrupted George. “Has he got to stay behind? How did he take that?”

“Rather worse than we did,” answered Margetts. “And we took it bad enough. Here we shall have to kick our heels, while you are having all the fun. By the way, what is to be done with Van Ryk? His trial took place yesterday, but I haven’t heard the result.”

“He is to be hanged,” said George. “Not only you and I, but Vander Heyden and Moritz also swore positively to him. You’ll have the pleasure of being his executioners after we are gone.”

“I am not sure of that,” said Redgy. “They allow a fellow three weeks now, – at least I suppose so, – and I should think you would have chawed up Cetewayo before three weeks are past.”

“Hardly that,” said George, “though I daresay it won’t be very long. Well, I’m sorry for you, Redgy, but I can’t stop here. You had better get up and see us off.”

The banks of the Buffalo presented a busy and animated scene that morning. This river and the Tugela are often, in the later months of the year, so reduced in volume that a horse may cross them without the water rising higher than his knees. But in January, February, and March they are generally in deep and rapid flood, and difficult, and, except to experienced riders, impossible to ford. The mounted soldiers did contrive to cross, and so did one battalion of the Native Contingent, at a shallow spot a quarter of a mile or so up stream, and the 24th regiment was got over on ponts. When these were in position to repel any attack that might be made by the Zulus, the rest of the force was conveyed across, and lastly the waggons.

This was the heaviest part of the work, and occupied a long time. The waggons were dragged by the oxen to the edge of the bank; then the cattle were outspanned, and driven into the river to swim across, while the waggons were dragged on to the ponts by hand. This occupied the entire day; but by nightfall they had nearly all been got across, and on the following morning the march began.

“We are to move first on Sirayo’s kraal,” said George to Hardy, as they grasped hands. “He is the fellow, you know, that made the foray into Natal and carried off the women, whom he afterwards murdered. Cetewayo wouldn’t give him up. He is in a strong position, I am told, by the Ingutu hill, about four miles from here.”

“And he probably has a pretty large force with him,” observed Hardy. “Cetewayo is said to have sent his prime troops against our column. Well, now, George, you’ll see what these fellows fight like.”

The order to move was presently given. The advance was necessarily slow through the broken and perfectly wild country on the north side of the Tugela; through which there was not so much as a path to be traced, except where the waggon of some trader had passed, and deep ruts had been left by the wheels. The ground was for the most part woodland, broken, however, continually by ravines, with deep and high fissures intersecting them – as difficult a country for a hostile force to traverse as could well be imagined.

After an hour or two of tedious advance, they came on the banks of the Bashee, a small mountain stream, running at the foot of the Ingutu mountain. Presently Sirayo’s kraal came in sight.

“There is the kraal, George,” exclaimed Hardy, “and there are a lot of Zulus ready to defend it. Now you may have a good sight of these fellows in fighting array.”

George looked up at the crags above him, and saw a number of dark-skinned warriors, whose appearance was in the highest degree striking. On their heads they wore head-dresses, apparently of leopards’ skin, surmounted by feathers, the dark plumes waving after a most picturesque fashion against the sky. Round their wrists and ankles they wore rings of ivory or burnished copper, while their waists were encircled by the tails of wild animals bound together. On their left arms they carried oval shields, large enough to protect the entire body from neck to ankle, proof against the sharp and dangerous assegay, but no protection from the rifle bullet. Their defensive weapons were rifles and assegays; the latter long spears cut from the wood of the tree which bears the same name, with an iron head and a barbed point, and which these savages hurl with great dexterity and force. As soon as the English soldiers came within hearing distance, they began to taunt and jeer them after their barbaric fashion, inquiring, “What were the white men riding there for?”

“What did they want in the land of the Zulus?”

“Were they looking out for some place to build a kraal in?”

“Would they ascend the rocks, and receive the greeting they were ready to bestow upon them?” and the like.

Presently the order to advance was given, and the men of the 24th began climbing the westward side of the hill, on which Sirayo’s kraal stood. A fire was instantly opened upon them by the Zulus, from behind the various points of vantage where they had stationed themselves, by which a dozen men or so were struck down. But in a short time, in spite of an obstinate resistance, the enemy were driven out of the kraal, and fled in confusion along the hillside, followed, as soon as they reached tolerably level ground, by the cavalry, who cut down a considerable number in the pursuit.