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
Having sent one of our escort into the river at the first drift, which
was running very strong, it was found too deep for waggons, infantry,
or artillery, and we proceeded seven miles further up along the bank.
Our guide, a trader, having come to the extent of his former travels,
was quite out of his reckoning. At the next drift, we surprised a party
of a dozen girls and women bathing, and filling their calabashes. They
gave a yell of alarm as we suddenly appeared on the top of the bank,
and rushing out of the water up the opposite path all dripping, made
off to a large village perched on the top of a rocky hill about a mile
off, constantly looking back to see if we were pursuing. Their dress
was of the same primeval description as that of the men, coverings of
skin, and they wore in addition large white necklaces.
We saw the small French Missionary station of Berea; and at some
distance Moshesh's _Great Place_ on the Thaba Bossigo. After the drift
had been carefully examined by Siborne, R.E., who swam his horse across
the swollen stream, and Tylden and Stanton had taken the necessary
points and bearings for their survey of the country, we returned along
the base of a fine hill, on which were two or three little villages
of stone kraals and round huts, from whence we saw several natives
peering down on us. Shortly we were caught in a terrific storm of hail,
thunder, and lightning, and had the greatest difficulty in keeping our
road, and making the horses face the hail, which pelted down with such
force as to hurt us very much, and render them frantic. No one can
have any just idea of an African thunderstorm without experiencing
it. The lightning ran along the ground, and the rain streamed down in
such torrents, that we were all drenched to the skin in a minute, and
sobbing with the sudden cold. As we rode across the flooded plain,
the water flew from our horses' feet in sheets of spray, yet in a
quarter of an hour the sun was out again as bright as ever. A party
of civilians riding out from the camp, as soon as they caught sight
of us with our Fingo escort, turned round, and went back at full
gallop, tearing away before us as hard as they could go, to our great
astonishment, and were very soon out of sight. On arriving at the camp,
we were congratulated on our safe return, and found everybody in a
state of excitement at the narrow escape of a party from the camp, that
had been nearly cut off by a large mounted force of Basutos, in fact
barely getting away with their lives! Our version of the matter changed
the aspect of affairs entirely, and the fugitives laughed as heartily
as any one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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