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
He prayed hard for mercy, but in vain, for one of
them, whom the cruel massacre had deprived of a parent, blew out his
brains before any one could interfere, exclaiming: "Wena! uyabulala
ubawo bam!" (You! murderer of my father!)
While searching about the place a shot was fired at us by some fellow
skulking in the bush, to the edge of which we had incautiously
wandered. Gordon had a narrow escape, as the ball ploughed up the
ground at his feet, and covered him with the soil. The Fingoes
immediately dashed in, in pursuit, making the wood ring with their
yells.
From the elevated site of the smouldering village we had a fine
and unexpected view of the sea at only a few miles distance, the
intervening country, grassy and well wooded, being intersected by the
winding Kareiga. We bivouacked for breakfast, boiling our coffee on the
embers of the huts, and spreading our rations of beef and black biscuit
on the trampled grass, not many yards from the corpses of those who
had fallen. A few stray Kaffirs were espied stealing away through the
open bush in the valley below, and though far out of range, set all the
Fingoes firing away at once in the wildest manner imaginable.
After resting for about half an hour we returned by the road we had
traversed the night before, which was, of course, up-hill all the way
back. It was now intensely hot; and after having marched thirty-five
miles the previous day, and been on foot two nights successively, we
found it heavy work, nearly all being half asleep as we staggered
along the burning road. I found myself several times in a state of
somnambulism, starting out of sleep as I stumbled over the inequalities
of the ground, wondering for the instant where I was. Thus we plodded
on till late in the evening, when jaded and weary we again reached
the bivouac left eighteen hours before, during seventeen of which we
had never rested. The steady and soldier-like manner in which the men
performed this march, so soon after landing from a long sea voyage,
deservedly elicited the commendations of the General in Orders. It was
with a feeling of relief and pleasure, known only to those who have
undergone the excessive fatigues of such a forced march, that we threw
ourselves down to rest, and kicked the shoes off our burning feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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