The Matabele Campaign

The Downfall of Uwini

8th September to 14th September

Start for the Somabula Forest to find Ridley’s Column – Native Pantomimic Description of a Battle – The British Subaltern – Taba–si–ka–Mamba – Bread–Making – Difficulty in Finding the Column – A Vision Fulfilled – A Man’s Toys – Meeting with Vyvyan – Join, and assume Command of the Column – The Wounded Men – How Uwini was captured – Why he was tried – Cutting off the Enemy’s Water–Supply – The Somabula Forest – Execution of Uwini – A Soldier Missing – A Fruitless Night March – A Battle between Friends – Start for the Somabula – We raid Lozan’s District.

6th September.– I am now back at work again in the office, but only doing it indifferently well; Vyvyan is away with Ridley’s column, and meantime Nicholson is helping me in the office. He has been marvellously quick at picking up the threads of the office work, and consequently is of the greatest assistance.

7th September.– Sir Frederick has to–day given me a better tonic than any which the combined medical faculty of Buluwayo could devise. He has told me that he is anxious for me to go and take charge of the column which is now under Ridley in the Somabula Forest. He has privately consulted Dr. Strong, who has been looking after me, and he considers that I may now safely go. After hearing this, it did not take long for me to get ready. Packing my kit on one horse and riding another, I said good–bye to Buluwayo, and with my nigger Diamond riding a third horse and leading a fourth, I started this afternoon, and am now camped for the night on the Umguza River, where some of Plumer’s men are stationed.

8th September.– Took with me three of Plumer’s men as escort, viz. Troopers Abrahamson, White, and Parkin, each with two horses and three days’ rations. We started at sunrise to follow up Ridley’s column. I could picture nothing more to my taste than a ride of from eighty to one hundred miles in a wild country, with three good men, and plenty of excitement in having to keep a good look–out for the enemy, enjoying splendid weather, shirt–sleeves, and a reviving feeling of health and freedom. Everything promised to make it one of the delightful times of my life. But before we had gone ten miles, I found I wasn’t very fit; at sixteen miles we off–saddled, and a cup of tea refreshed me, but I could not eat. I began to have thoughts of sending back for a cart to bring me ignominiously home again. However, after an hour’s rest, I reflected that it was only a natural weakness after being so long on the sick–list. So we went on for nine miles, to where Mr. Fynn was camped on a farm belonging to Arthur Rhodes (better known as “the M’limo”). Fynn is here collecting together native prisoners and refugees, and giving them ground on which to sow their crops. My thanks to you, Fynn, for that arm–chair where I slept most happily, and then the excellent tea and boiled rice, followed by another spell in the arm–chair! While resting here, three rebels came in to surrender, and they told us how the white troops, meaning Ridley’s column, were several days on ahead, and that two days ago they had surrounded the rebels and had kept firing on them for the whole of one day and part of the next; one of the niggers went through a pantomime descriptive of the battle, and showed us how, during the fight, he himself lay low in a donga, and heard first the single shots of the white men replied to by the deeper bang of the native muskets, then the increasing rattle and roar of musketry, then the rapid tap, tap, tap of the Maxim, mingled with the crack of volleys and the roar of 7–pounders. He imitated all the sounds beautifully, as well as the crouching attack of the skirmishers, the falling of the wounded rebels, and the flight of the remainder. His action was perfect, but I eventually discovered it was all a lie from beginning to end. No such fight had taken place – he merely made it up, as he hoped to please us; but meantime I was miserable at the thought that the action had come off and I was too late for it. At the same time, it aroused my impatience, and we pressed on that evening eight miles farther to the Bembezi River. There we off–saddled and coiled down in the dark, taking turns to keep watch. It was a lovely night, but was rather spoilt during my watch by a beastly hyæna coming and sniffing around, and growling and snarling at us every now and then.

9th September.– Started at daybreak, and got to Inyati (fourteen miles) by eight o’clock. Here we found Terry of the 7th Hussars with six men occupying a small fort. Their life did not seem too cheery; small fort, open flat, blazing sun, and flies innumerable. Rudyard Kipling would well describe this young sprig, fresh from Charterhouse, accepting the surrender of numbers of Lobengula’s trusted old warriors. He had under his charge in the fort stores of food and grain, for the better protection of which he had drawn largely on the roof of the mission church across the flat. After breakfasting here, we pressed on again under a blazing sun, hoping for water, but finding none. On and on over yellow, grassy, bush–grown flats for fourteen miles, till we struck a river bed in which were a few pools of water. Here I lay down utterly done up, but after a wash in a pool and some tea, I soon got all right, and in the cool of the evening we went on another four miles to the Longwe River. Like nearly all the so–called rivers here, it was but a river bed of sand, in which one had to dig for water. We found here a convoy of four waggons with supplies for Ridley’s column, but they could give us no information as to where he was camped, or how far ahead he might be; they were merely following along on his track. They had a strong escort, and were quite prepared to take care of themselves in the event of an attack. Among the troopers on escort was one Madden, an old Swaziland acquaintance. Our two days’ journey had brought us respectively thirty–three and thirty–two miles from Buluwayo, – a total of sixty–five.

10th September.– Again we started at daybreak, and passed by Taba–si–ka–Mamba, a mass of jumbled–up koppies, six miles by three, which had formed one of the chief rebel strongholds in this part of the country, until Plumer’s force had stormed the place, and driven the enemy out, on the 6th July last. The rocks and koppies here, like those in the Matopos, are piles of granite boulders, and in many cases assume most fantastic forms. Here and there they look like castles on the top of peaks; in other places, like gigantic loaves of bread, and in one place there was a tower of five of them placed one on top of the other for a height of nearly a hundred feet. We rode on until we came to the next river, the Umsangwe, a distance of ten miles; it was blazing hot, and I now began to feel a very poor creature. It was too far to go back again, and we could only hope that the column was not very far ahead, especially as we had not too much quantity or variety of food with us. I lay up during the heat of the day with a waterproof sheet spread over a thorn–bush as a shelter from the sun. The men dug water in the sand, washed, and baked bread. To bake bread, lay your coat on the ground, inside upwards, mix the flour and water in it (it doesn’t show when you put the coat on again); for yeast or baking powder use the juice of the toddy palm or Eno’s Fruit Salt to make a light dough; scrape a circle in the ashes of the fire, flop your lump of dough down on to it, flour the dough, spread fine sand all round and all over it, then heap the embers of the fire on to it; in half an hour an excellent flat loaf of bread results. It requires scrubbing with a horse–brush before you eat it. At half–past three we saddled up and trekked on to the Shangani River, which was only four miles farther on. It is a mighty river on the map, but is nothing more in nature than the usual sand river–bed with occasional pools, the sand being about a hundred and fifty yards wide, with reed–grown banks on either side. To get water, you have to scrape out a hole of two feet deep, and fairly good water comes immediately. We had brought a nigger guide with us from Inyati, and he said that Ridley’s column would be found on the Uvunkwe River, and that this was only a short distance on from the Shangani; so we pressed on. But as night closed in, our nigger got frightened, and he told us that there were Matabele about. We replied that that was exactly the reason why we had come there. Then he said that the next water was so far off, that if we trotted the whole night, we should not get there till long after sunrise next day. We tried for a bit to get on in the dark, but rain had fallen since Ridley’s column had passed along and had destroyed the spoor; we had no water, and only two days’ food; our nigger guide was evidently unreliable: so we turned back to the Shangani, and there bivouacked for the night, taking it in turns, as usual, to keep watch.

11th September.– My anniversary of joining Her Majesty’s Service, 1876–1896 – twenty years. I always think more of this anniversary than of that of my birth, and I could not picture a more enjoyable way of spending it. I am here, out in the wilds, with three troopers. They are all Afrikanders, that is, Colonial born, one an ex–policeman, another a mining engineer (went to England with me in 1889 on board the Mexican), the third an electrical engineer from Johannesburg, – all of them good men on the veldt, and good fighting men. We are nearly eighty miles from Buluwayo and thirty from the nearest troops. I have rigged up a shelter from the sun with my blanket, a rock, and a thorn–bush; thirteen thousand flies are unfortunately staying with me, and are awfully attentive.

One of us is always on the look–out by night and by day. Our stock of food, crockery, cooking utensils, and bedding does not amount to anything much, as we carry it all on our saddles.

Once, not very long ago, at an afternoon “At Home,” I was handing a cup of tea to an old dowager, who bridled up in a mantle with bugles and beads, and some one noticed that in doing so my face wore an absent look, and I was afterwards asked where my thoughts were at that time. I could only reply that “My mind was a blank, with a single vision in it, lower half yellow, upper half blue,” in other words, the yellow veldt of South Africa, topped with the blue South African sky. Possibly the scent of the tea had touched some memory chord which connected it with my black tin billy, steaming among the embers of a wood fire; but whatever it was then, my vision is to–day a reality. I am looking out on the yellow veldt and the blue sky; the veldt with its grey, hazy clumps of thorn bush is shimmering in the heat, and its vast expanse is only broken by the gleaming white sand of the river bed and the green reeds and bushes which fringe its banks. (Interruption: Stand to the tent! a “Devil,” with its roaring pillar of dust and leaves, comes tearing by.) I used to think that the novelty of the thing would wear off, that these visions of the veldt would fade away as civilised life grew upon me. But they didn’t. They came again at most inopportune moments: just when I ought to be talking “The World,” or “Truth,” or “Modern Society” (with the cover removed), and making my reputation as a “sensible, well–informed man, my dear,” with the lady in the mantle, somebody in the next room has mentioned the word saddle, or rifle, or billy, or some other attribute of camp life, and off goes my mind at a tangent to play with its toys. Old Oliver Wendell Holmes is only too true when he says that most of us are “boys all our lives”; we have our toys, and will play with them with as much zest at eighty as at eight, that in their company we can never grow old. I can’t help it if my toys take the form of all that has to do with veldt life, and if they remain my toys till I drop —

“Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its grey,
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May;
And when we have done with our life–lasting toys,
Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the boys.”

May it not be that our toys are the various media adapted to individual tastes through which men may know their God?

As Ramakrishna Paramahansa writes: “Many are the names of God and infinite the forms that lead us to know of Him. In whatsoever name or form you desire to know Him, in that very name and form you will know Him.”

In the afternoon I rode out with one of the men some ten miles down the Shangani River, to see if we could find any spoor of the enemy crossing the sandy bed or coming to get water there, but we only found the separate tracks of three men at all fresh, though we found hundreds of old tracks. As we came in sight of our bivouac on our return, my man said, “There is a strange horse grazing with ours; someone has come to the camp;” and it was true enough – we had a visitor. Vyvyan, who was acting as staff officer to Ridley, had received my note which I had sent on by runners, saying that I was coming out to take command of the column, and that he was to return to Buluwayo to act as chief staff officer. From him I ascertained that the column was only twenty–five miles away, and had not yet had a big fight, although it had lost a few men in taking some of the innumerable koppies in which the rebels of that part had taken refuge. So towards evening we saddled up and moved on, Vyvyan going on to Buluwayo with one man as escort, and I and my little party continuing our way eastward. We went on for three hours until the moon set, and then bivouacked for the night.

12th September.– On again at daybreak, through thick bush country, in which were numerous granite boulder koppies. Everywhere we found more or less recent tracks of natives, and the wheel–marks of Ridley’s waggons once more became pretty well defined. Our horses were now beginning to get done – indeed, one of mine was doing his best to die; so, knowing that we must be near Ridley’s camp, I pressed on ahead of the party leaving them to follow more leisurely. Presently I came across two niggers hiding in the bush, but evidently unarmed and afraid to run away. From them I managed to elicit that the camp was not far off, and they soon put me on the right path to it, and I got in in time for a late breakfast. The laager was formed in an open spot, surrounded on all sides at a short distance by eight koppies which formed the strongholds of the enemy. One of these koppies had been attacked and taken two days previously, and the chief of the tribe had been there captured. But we had lost one man killed and four wounded, and there still remained seven koppies to be taken. One of my first acts in camp, after taking over command of the column, was to visit the hospital, where I found one man with his hand amputated; he bore it very well, and, being one of the best football players of the 7th Hussars, he was in good training, and therefore but little affected by it. When I said I hoped it would not spoil his football in the future, he laughed and said that as he played the Association game, he would be all the better without a hand. Another poor chap had a great double wound in his thigh (all unbandaged for my edification); and another, who was yesterday a particularly handsome young hussar, has to–day a horrible caricature of a face, with the whole of his lower jaw shot away. And with what object? Merely to get half a dozen frightened niggers out of their holes in the rocks. Then I was shown the chief who had been captured – Uwini by name. He was badly wounded in the shoulder, but, enraged at being a prisoner, he would allow nothing to be done for him; no sooner had the surgeon bandaged him than he tore the dressings off again. He was a fine, truculent–looking savage, and boasted that he had always been able to hold his own against any enemies in this stronghold of his, but now that he was captured he only wished to die. His capture had been most pluckily effected by Captain van Niekerk and two of his men. When his kraal was taken by the troops, Uwini had scrambled down into the labyrinth of caves which ran through the rocks on which the kraal was built. Trooper Halifax and another crawled in after him, and followed him from one point to another of his refuge, often firing and being fired at by him. After some hours of this game of hide–and–seek, Halifax had managed to wound the chief; they then followed him up with a lighted candle, tracking him by his blood spoor, until they finally cornered him in a cleft of the rocks from which he could not escape. He was so disabled by his wound as to be unable to fire on them, and they made him a prisoner.

It now rested with me to decide what should be our next step. We had lost five men killed and wounded in taking one koppie, and there still remained seven to be taken, which were just as strongly held as the first one; consequently we must expect to lose a number of men before we finally effected our purpose, and the probability was that we should not do this before we had first killed a large number of the rebels. The Native Commissioner of this part had been murdered by the rebels and his police had joined them, so that civil power in the district had ceased to exist. There was in camp, however, an acting Native Commissioner, Mr. V. Gielgud, who was to assume the post of Commissioner so soon as the rebels could be induced to surrender. This officer was most anxious that I should try Uwini by court–martial, for the following reasons: – Uwini was not only the leading chief of that part of the country, but was one of the four chiefs of the whole of Matabeleland who were supposed to be specially endowed by the M’limo, the god of the people; he was therefore in their eyes sacred, invulnerable, and infallible. He was well known to be the instigator of rebellion, and of several specific murders of whites in the district. His immediate punishment, then and there, would do more than anything else to restore our prestige and bring about the surrender of rebels, not only of his own tribe, but probably of the neighbouring tribes as well.

The chief, when asked by us to call upon his people to surrender, now that he was captured, absolutely declined to make any such proposition to them. He said that he had ordered them into rebellion, and had told them to fight to the last, and he was not now going to go back on his orders. He is a plucky and stubborn old villain. Time is very pressing, as we are getting constant information of rebels massing in three directions within reach of us, and to catch them we ought to be on the move at once; so I have determined to try him by court–martial, as any deserved punishment would certainly save much bloodshed on both sides, would save much valuable time that would otherwise be lost in operations against the stronghold, and should bring about the rapid pacification of the whole district and the restoration of our prestige in these parts. There is no civil power to refer the case to, and by military law Uwini is a prisoner of war, and liable to trial by a military court; we are over a hundred miles from the General’s headquarters, so that I could not refer the case with any certainty of getting an answer within reasonable time; and also, I know of several other similar cases having been tried lately by court–martial (P.S.– I had not then heard of any exception having been taken to this course), and I have therefore given the order for his immediate trial by Field General Court–Martial.

Uwini’s kraal, like most others in this part of the country, was a large collection of thatched circular huts built on inaccessible crags of a small mountain; and above the kraal, on points of rocks, so as to be well out of the reach of thieves and marauders, were perched numerous corn–bins. These latter we could only reach by hoisting men up with ropes, but we were lucky in obtaining from them very large supplies of grain. Much of this we have used for feeding the women and children whom we had captured from this kraal, and these, spreading the news to others in other parts of the stronghold, have induced a good many of them to come and give themselves up to us.

In order to help the rebels to make up their minds about surrendering, I have ordered piquets to be posted at all places from which they draw their water supply; these are generally small wells in the neighbourhood of the koppies occupied by them, and their usual time for getting water is during the dark hours of the night, so I hope that to–night we shall considerably astonish them when they come to get their supply for to–morrow.

My force here consists of a squadron of the 7th Hussars under Captain Agnew, a company of the York and Lancaster Mounted Infantry under Captain Kekewich, a strong troop of the Afrikander Corps under Captain van Niekerk, three Maxims, a 7–pounder under Captain Boggie, field hospital under Surgeon Lieutenant–Colonel Gormley, ambulance, and waggons carrying about a month’s stores, a total of 360 men and horses.

13th September.– During the night a lot of shots were fired by our piquet on the stronghold. I visited them at dawn and found they had killed two rebels who had come out to get water. I had a long talk with the prisoners and refugees who were in camp, and learned from them that the mass of the Matabele were now spread about in the Somabula Forest. This forest extends in a semicircle for a distance of over a hundred and fifty miles from Gwelo down to the Shangani, and varies in width from fifteen to thirty miles. It is not, as a rule, inhabited, owing to the dearth of water, but the enemy had now taken to it, hoping to find a safer refuge there. Our present camp is close to the edge of the forest, and is on the bank of the Uvunkwe River. This river runs along the side of the forest until it joins the Shangani some fifty miles from here. It seems to me that, by following down the Uvunkwe River for a short distance, and then striking through the forest to the Gwelo River, we should be able to come upon a large mass of the rebels who are said to be occupying a strong position in the hills.

The court–martial assembled on Uwini this morning, and tried him on charges of armed rebellion, for ordering his people to murder whites, and for instigating rebellion in this part of the country. The court martial gave him a long hearing, in which he practically confessed to what was charged against him, and they found him guilty, and sentenced him to be shot. I was sorry for him – he was a fine old savage; but I signed his warrant, directing that he should be shot at sundown.

During the day I went over the koppie that had formed Uwini’s main stronghold. It is a wonderfully strong mass of boulders about half a mile long and six hundred feet high. The approaches to it were strengthened by breastworks of stone and timber, and the mountain itself is honeycombed with caves. The cave in which Uwini was captured runs all through the mountain with innumerable ramifications. It is so narrow that in many places we had to crawl, now and then climbing up on our hands and knees, and sometimes having to creep down rough ladders made of tree–trunks. It was only then that we realised the difficulty that the men had had in effecting his capture, and their pluck in following up an armed and desperate man in such a very nasty place.

On my arrival in camp yesterday, it had been reported to me that one man of the Mounted Infantry, while out on patrol in the forest, had become separated from his party and was missing. Additional patrols had been sent out to search for him and though they had followed up his spoor for some distance, they had been unable to find him. To–day, again, patrols had gone out accompanied by native trackers, but towards evening they returned, having again been unsuccessful in finding him; they reported that his spoor led back in the direction of the camp, and so they had hoped he would have returned before them, but he has not yet returned. Luckily, he was carrying on his saddle the day’s rations for the other three men of his section, so that if he can only keep his head, and not overwork his horse, there is every hope that he will turn up again. But that is the worst of these men when they get lost, – they seem to lose their heads, and tear off in all directions, until they exhaust themselves and their horses, when they become a prey to the enemy or go out of their mind. At night we send up rockets and fire guns in order to show the wanderer whereabouts the camp lies.

At sunset all the natives in camp, both friendlies, refugees, and prisoners, were paraded to witness the execution of Uwini. He was taken out to an open place in the centre of his stronghold, where all his people who were still holding out could see what was being done, and he was there shot by a firing party from the troops.

I have great hopes that the moral effect of this will be particularly good among the rebels, as he was the head and centre of revolution in these parts, and had come to be looked upon by them as a god. No doubt, when they have realised that he is after all but a mortal, that he has succumbed to our power, and that they have no other head to take his place, they won’t delay long to surrender.

Indeed, I sent one old lady out to the rebel stronghold to–day to advise them to give themselves up, and to assure them that they could do so with perfect safety, but the old girl returned from her mission without bringing any of them with her. As she came back into camp, carrying her pass in a cleft stick, I was amused to hear one of the men say to her as she passed, “Hullo, old girl, are you back off furlough already?”

I had proposed to start off some of my column to the northward this evening, but in the afternoon a small boy came into camp and reported that there was a party of Matabele camped about fifteen miles away to the southward, on the Uvunkwe River, so I got Ridley to take fifty men and make a night march to attack them. The patrol started after dark, at seven o’clock, and very soon after they had left camp, we heard rapid firing in their direction. On sending out to ascertain the cause, we found that Ridley’s party, in passing near to the piquet which was guarding the enemy’s water–supply, had been mistaken by them for Matabele, and had been fired on, but luckily no one was hurt. I ran in the officer of the piquet, and after hearing his explanation of how the mistake arose, I abused him roundly, not for making the mistake, for we are all of us liable to do that at times, but because, when he opened fire, his men were not able to hit the hussars. This hurt him more than the most violent reprimand, because he prided himself on the good shooting of his men.

14th September.– Firing was kept up during the night by this piquet at frequent intervals. It was evident that the rebels were getting very thirsty; for two days and nights now they had not been allowed to get any water. During the few hours of darkness, just before dawn, numbers of them slipped away, and the remainder came and gave themselves up, many of them bringing in their arms. Thus, within a very few hours of his execution, the death of Uwini began to have its effect.

Through the break–up of Uwini’s stronghold, large stores of grain fell into our hands, and as we have over a thousand prisoners and refugees now in camp, we have plenty of assistance in gathering it into a central store.

Early in the morning Ridley and his patrol returned from their night march. They had found the enemy’s scherms deserted, the spoor showing that the Kafirs had cleared into the forest; they had had their long ride for nothing, and the only excitement they had encountered was that of being fired upon by our own piquet just after starting.

Again the search party, which had been sent out to look for the missing man, returned unsuccessful; no further signs of him had been found, and I fear that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy.

CHAPTER XII

Shangani Column – Through the Forest

14th September to 19th September

We commence Operations in the Somabula Forest – We seize Lozan’s Cornfields – Remains of Murdered White Men – We divide the Column into three Patrols and a Reserve – We come on the M’limo’s Impi – Hunting the M’limo – Our daily Routine – We capture some Kraals and Prisoners – Another Murdered Farmer – A Night March through the Forest – Our Horses begin to give out – We reach the Gwelo River.

14th September.– To–day we have started operations against the Somabula Forest. Taking with me 160 men, hussars and mounted infantry, with two guns, an ambulance, and four waggons lightly loaded, I have marched away to the northward, leaving near Uwini’s stronghold, under command of Captain Agnew, the remainder of the force, to complete the collection of grain and obtain the surrender of rebels. I propose now to break up the rebel impi said to be collected near here; to drive the rebels out of the Somabula Forest; and to break up posts which have been established on the main paths in this district, to prevent would–be surrenderers from coming in to us.

15th September.– Before dawn this morning we made a rapid march across the Uvunkwe River and through the bush to the grainfields and villages of Lozan. These we found deserted, but fresh spoor of a large number of people, all making for the forest, showed that they had been there the previous day, but had got wind of our movements in time to make their escape. We managed to capture a few women, some of whom had come from the impi in the Mashene Hills, which I had proposed to attack, and they saved me much trouble by telling me that that impi was already on the move north–westwards, because of a strong column of white troops which was approaching it from the eastward, with the evident intention of attacking it. This, I concluded, was Colonel Paget’s column, which had been coming up from Victoria, via Gwelo, into the Maven district; so my obvious course was now to make for the north with all speed, and cut off this impi in its flight. But in doing so, I should have to pass through the most occupied part of the Somabula Forest, and I consider the most effective way of doing this will be to divide my force into three patrols, to move rapidly on parallel courses through the forest, as lightly equipped as possible, leaving the waggons with another party to follow along a central route in rear, to form, as it were, a supporting depôt and reserve.

At Lozan’s kraal we found ourselves well in the Somabula Forest, but it is scarcely a forest in the usual sense of the word. The trees are quite small and growing close together, more like a pheasant cover in England than a great forest, but without much undergrowth and with sandy soil under foot; an easy place to lose your way in, and an unpleasant one on account of the want of water. But this same want of water should very much simplify matters when we are seatching for the rebels, as we have simply to go to the few existing water–places to find their tracks, which we can then follow up, with the certainty of discovering their hiding–place.

Our camping–place for the middle of the day is on the drift where the Hartley Hill road crosses the Uvunkwe River, and the Native Commissioner (Gielgud), my orderly, and I were making our way back from Lozan’s to this camp by a roundabout route through the bush, in the hopes of picking up more prisoners, when we suddenly came on a couple of koodoo, splendid great brindled buck. I had a hasty shot at one with my Lee–Metford, and luckily struck him through the upper part of the forelegs, breaking both of them, and so disabling him. I was thus able to go up to him and finish him with another bullet, which, however, passed clean through him, making but a very small hole. The probability is that, had I hit him through the body in a non–vital spot, he would have gone on his way rejoicing. We soon had him cut up and slung over my horse for conveyance to camp. On getting to our outspan near the drift, we came on the remains of three white people, who had been murdered here by rebels. One poor chap had evidently made a hard fight for his life, being at some distance from the others under a tree. There was not much by which to identify the bodies, but one had his teeth peculiarly stopped with gold, and a half–sovereign was picked up with some markings on it.

This evening I started off my patrols to operate through the forest;[3 - See map of Shangani column, p. 304.] the right–hand patrol, consisting of about thirty mounted infantry under Captain Kekewich, is to go through the forest and follow the course of the Gwelo River, which forms the right–hand boundary of the forest. He is to gain touch, if possible, with Colonel Paget, and also to work out that side of the forest as much as possible, getting his water in the Gwelo River. The second patrol, forty men under Major Ridley, is to keep along the Uvunkwe River, which forms the left–hand boundary of the forest. His duty will be to patrol into the forest from this side, follow up and drive out all rebels, getting his water–supply in the Uvunkwe. The third patrol, of forty of the 7th Hussars under Captain Poore, with which I am going, will press on at a rapid pace down the Uvunkwe and through the forest on to the lower part of the Gwelo River, where we shall be in a position to cut off all parties of rebels who may be retreating before Colonel Paget’s attack and those of our other two patrols, and we shall there be able also to get on to the path which leads to the one great refuge in the north, the grain–bearing district of Inyoka. Meanwhile, the waggons, guns, and ambulance, with a sufficient guard, will follow leisurely along the Uvunkwe River, so as to be at hand with further supplies or assistance if required by any of the patrols. Each patrol takes with it as much food as the men can carry on their saddles, which, however, does not amount to more than four days’ supply.

I started after dark with my patrol, and we did eleven miles in the moonlight before we off–saddled for our first bivouac.

16th September.– This morning by dawn we were pushing our way along the Uvunkwe, but could find no sign of the recent presence of the natives. The river holds plenty of water, and is a very pretty one, full of long reaches and pools fringed with green reeds and overhanging trees; the scenery round is generally undulating yellow grass veldt, thickly dotted with grey thorn–bush; it is all parched and dry as a bone. As we got farther on our way, the thorn–bush became thicker, and at last we got into a forest of thorns which defeated us. We had to lead our horses and to struggle at a very slow pace through this dense, prickly bush, and finally had to give it up as a bad job. We then made our way with difficulty down into the river bed, where the going was more open. Just as we were crossing the sandy bank, I saw that which made my heart stand still. A path of perfectly fresh tracks leading from the water up into another part of the same bush from which we had just emerged; so fresh were they that the water in some of the shallower puddles was still muddy, and a dog was quietly trotting along the path towards the bush. We did not wait one instant; Poore and I tore up the path, followed by the hussars, as fast as we could go. Dashing along the spoor like a pack of hounds, we very soon found ourselves in the bush, and among a lot of huts and scherms; but too late! We could hear the crackling of twigs as the niggers bolted in front of us into the deep, thick bush. All their fires were left burning, and cooking–pots full of pumpkins and mealies were boiling merrily on the fires; their clothes and clubs, assegais and loot, were lying about in heaps; there were army greatcoats, white men’s and women’s clothes, axes, saws, tinned provisions, and other articles, evidently spoils of murdered whites; and among other things I picked up a trinket which had its meaning for us, and that was a small necklace of peculiar black beads; this necklace was of the kind which only a certain regiment of Matabele were allowed to wear, namely, M’tini’s regiment, which acted as the bodyguard of M’qwati (M’qwati is the high priest of the M’limo in these parts). We were in luck indeed if we could but catch these men; it is this impi which provides posts in different parts of the country with orders to kill any of the natives who desire to make peace with the whites, or to come in to surrender. I brought away with me a rhinoceros–hide sjambok (whip) and an induna’s staff. From these evidences, and from the appearance of the huts, we guessed that this camp was the headquarters of M’tini, the leader of the regiment; but we knew from reports of prisoners that M’qwati usually lived at some little distance from M’tini, in a safer spot, so we hoped that with a little searching we might find him. Therefore, leaving Poore with his men to destroy the huts, I took two or three hussars with me, and followed the spoor for nearly another three miles alongside the thick bush. But by this time the sun had set, it was getting dark, and I could see no further sign of the rebels. I therefore reluctantly abandoned the chase for the time being, and returned to Poore, who had now gone into bivouac on the river bank. Knowing that the rebels would probably remain in the thickness of the bush, but would have to come to the river to get their water, we lit up a line of fires after dark all along the river bank for nearly a mile opposite the spot where the bush came down to the river. This was to frighten the enemy from trying to get water, as they would think we had a number of men near each fire. As a matter of fact, so soon as we had finished supper we continued our march in the darkness down the river, and bivouacked again when we had got below the junction of the Uvunkwe with the Shangani River.

17th September.– I started before dawn this morning with a patrol of a dozen men to resume my hunt for M’qwati, going back to the spot where I had broken off yesterday evening. Poore meanwhile took another patrol up the Shangani, in order to intercept these rebels should they think of retiring in that direction. On my way back I saw Ridley’s patrol in the distance, and accordingly went across to him and arranged that he should further investigate this patch of bush, and cut off its water supply again that night, both from the Uvunkwe and from the Shangani. Then I went on and struck yesterday’s spoor, and followed it into the bush; as this got too thick for the horses, we dismounted and pressed along on foot. Fresh spoor struck in on to the old, and every minute the scent, as it were, seemed to get hotter and hotter. We shoved along faster and faster, tearing along and being torn. Suddenly I see smoke through the bushes, then the yellow thatch of huts. I jump forward, leaving my hat in a Wacht–een–Beetche thorn–bush. I don’t care – can’t stop. There they are! I can see two men at anyrate dodging about – there may be more. One fine big fellow in European clothes clashes out of a hut and makes off with a gun in his hand. I yell to him, “Imana, andi bulali!” (Stop, I am not going to kill you!). But he does not stop, and I try not to keep my promise, but unfortunately I have one of the new–fangled guns that I do not understand – slipperty–flip, click–clack and tick! – but there’s no report; three times I cover him with my sights, aiming nice and low, just about the small of his back, but each time my gun refuses to go off. I have forgotten to turn on or off some little gadjet or other, and the man escapes. Curious that the momentary failure of a spring to act should spare a man to live to enjoy many years of domestic bliss or – to murder a few more fellow–creatures!

And that was the last we saw of these rebels. Of course we burnt their huts and followed on the spoor, and twice again we came upon others of their camps, but in each case they had suspicion of our coming, and managed to get out of the way as we arrived upon the scene, and it was impossible to pursue them with any hope of success in that impenetrable bush. However, I sent back a further message to Ridley by my orderly, informing him that the enemy still were in this tract of bush, and telling him how best to deal with them. [The orderly who took this note came across a lion on the way, and had a shot, but missed him.]

I then went on with my patrol, back along the Uvunkwe, to meet a party who had been sent after us from the waggons with additional supplies of flour and coffee on pack–horses, and we met them at the place agreed upon. During our midday halt for lunch and siesta, I found a snake had had the impertinence to come and lie alongside of me for his afternoon nap, and so I killed him. Later on I strolled down to the river, to bathe in a large and tempting pool, in which several of the men had already been having a swim. The first object that met my view on arriving there was a leery–looking crocodile, who seemed to be winking at me with one eye; I had a shot at him (which missed), and then I sought another pool to bathe in; this one happened to be close to the enemy’s watering–place, so, while undressed, I took care to leave my boots and rifle very ready for use in case of a surprise. Bathing became interesting when one had to keep a look–out with one eye for Matabele creeping through the reeds, and with the other for crocodiles rising from the water.

In the afternoon we started again with our newly–received supplies, to overtake Poore and the rest of our party, the men who had brought the supplies meanwhile returning to the waggons. Before leaving the neighbourhood, however, we got up a grand sham fight, and we fired volleys and independent firing. This was done with the idea of alarming the rebels in the bush, and of letting them know that we were here in some force, and probably firing on their friends; they would therefore probably not venture out at this end of the bush, and the other end was meantime being taken care of by Ridley and his party. Late that night we rejoined Poore, tired out, and heartily glad to turn in to sleep.