Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52King, William Ross
History
Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52
King, William Ross
South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878
I sent the cattle back to Fort Beaufort, and bivouacked for the night
with the Infantry at the ruins; but it was not to be a night of
undisturbed repose. We had hardly lain down when we were most savagely
attacked by musquitoes; and a slapping of faces and lighting of pipes
began on all sides. Having at last successfully dodged them by laying
a branch over my face, and thrusting my hands into my pockets, I
flattered myself with hopes of sleep, but a suspicious rustling among
the plucked broom under my head, made my blood run cold at the idea of
its being a cobra capello, and I rolled away on the other side; having
got a lighted brand from the fire, one or two of the men getting up to
assist me, everything was turned over with our ramrods, but no snake
was found. The same noise, however, began again soon after I lay down,
but persuading myself that it was some lizard or insect, I at last went
to sleep. In the morning, under the warm stuffing of the saddle that
had been my pillow, a fine puff adder lay coiled up.
On our way back, at sunrise, we blazed away right and left at bush
buck, and pheasants which we put up in scores. The bush was very
beautiful, glowing with the fragrant golden mimosa and the snowy
jessamine, mingled with the blue plumbago, the cluytea, and geranium;
the ground too covered with mesembryanthemum, was one sheet of glowing
pink. Along the deserted grass-grown road, doves, everywhere abundant,
were unusually numerous, running along the ground before us and flying
on from tree to tree like flocks of tame pigeons. On gaining the
more open country we found ourselves again among the young locusts,
now considerably grown, and turned to a reddish brown. The scattered
bushes, stripped of every leaf, were loaded with them, hanging like
swarms of bees from every branch and twig; for acres together the
ground was literally alive, and the "veldt" behind them bare to the
very earth. The evil became worse as we approached Beaufort, where the
cattle, from their numbers, were almost starving, for it was hazardous
driving them to any great distance, and already they went so far from
the town that a considerable part of the day was lost in taking them to
and from pasture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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