Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52. William Ross King
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.
It was late the following afternoon when we again halted at the Kowie River, at the foot of the mountain, and the oxen being too much exhausted to drag the waggons up, we encamped there for the night. Having neither bread nor biscuit left, we made a supper of beef and cold water, refreshing ourselves, after sleeping three nights in our clothes, by a moonlight bathe in the cold stream. Next morning all were under way at three o'clock, and before day dawned were near the top of the mountain road looking down on the fires we had left, glimmering far below in the yet dark valley. The camp at Fort England was reached in time for a somewhat late breakfast, during which we had more than enough to do between satisfying our own voracious appetites and the eager inquiries of those who had so unwillingly been left behind.
General Somerset, on his return to Graham's Town, received despatches from the Commander-in-chief of such a nature as to induce him to march us at once up the country to Fort Hare. Accordingly we struck tents next morning, though it was Sunday, and proceeded to Bothas Hill that afternoon, whence we had our first view of the lofty rugged chain of the Amatolas, gazing upon them in the blue distance, with no little interest, as our reported destination, and feeling that at last we were fairly off for Kaffirland. The view from this hill was splendid: endless chains of mountains; dark and wooded kloofs; sunny valleys, and grassy plains, dotted with mimosa; all clad in a depth and variety of colouring forming a picture as difficult to describe as to forget.
The following morning we entered the Ecca Pass, the terror of waggon-drivers and "post-riders," and notorious as the scene of many fatal ambuscades. The road winds along a deep narrow valley between high hills covered with dense thorny bush, and has a high wall of rock on the one hand, on the other a precipitous ravine, with admirable cover for Kaffirs everywhere, and is, perhaps, one of the most villanous specimens of a high road in the known world, abounding throughout its entire length with rocks of all sizes, from that of a "company's arm-chest" downwards; holes in the middle of it as deep as an ordinary horse-pond. On the one side the yawning precipices encroach on the crumbling path; while on the other some communicative driver points to overhanging crags and unapproachable cliffs, from which unsuspecting escorts and parties of horsemen are frequently fired upon by lurking bands of the enemy; with what fatal effect is evidenced by the bones and dried up hides of oxen and horses lying in the track. At a turn in the road, where only three days before a mounted express had been attacked, and four of the party wounded, we disturbed a troop of gorged vultures, which, rising from the half-devoured carcase of one of the horses, alighted on the rocks above, from the concealed crevices of which the rebels had taken aim. Within three weeks after this attack they again waylaid a like party, but with more fatal effect, two men being killed and four wounded. We were suffered to pass without molestation. The appearance of our long line, as it moved down the valley, was very striking; wild-looking Fingoes, strings of oxen and waggons, the glittering forest of bayonets, straggling Levies, pack-horses, and camp followers, winding along the hill-side, through the glowing bush, which was varied by magnificent euphorbias, rivalling forest trees in height.
Among the rocks were numbers of dossies[7] (a sort of rabbit, with a rat's head and monkey's hands) and some large baboons.
We emerged from the valley by a steep rough road, called Brak River Hill, and after a few miles level trek through a sandy country, sprinkled with thorn bushes, arrived at Fort Brown, a lonely quadrangular fortification, close to the Great Fish River, on the opposite bank of which we encamped for the night.
At the Koonap River, where we outspanned for a couple of hours next morning, two magnificent koodoo were seen, but they disappeared in the thick bush before any of the stalkers were within rifle range; one of them was a splendid fellow, as large as a mule, with long upright spiral horns, full three feet high.
From this the road for some distance ran along the base of a lofty range of cliffs called the Blue Krantz, an unbroken precipice of grey rock, at least 100 feet in height, and so perpendicular that a stone thrown from it would have fallen right among us; its summit fringed with aloes and overhanging trees, scarlet geranium springing from every crevice.
After crossing the river by two deep drifts, a few hundred yards apart, the diverging roads re-united at a deserted military post, destroyed by the enemy, and we commenced the ascent of the Koonap Hill, a long winding steep road, strewed, like the pass of the previous day, with the bones and carcasses of horses and bullocks, victims, not of savages, but of civilized cruelty; in our own case, one after another, twenty-one oxen were left dying or perfectly exhausted on the hill-side, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the remainder, weakened by long scarcity of pasture, were goaded to the top, though each waggon was drawn up by a double span, or team, driven by four or five screaming swearing Totties, who, besides their terrific whips, every cut of which left a long bare bleeding streak, used a heavy "jambok" of rhinoceros hide, six feet long, and as thick as a man's wrist at the handle, and at every stand-still, when these failed, bent the unfortunate animals' tails till they broke, biting them savagely.
The extensive range of country seen from this hill increased in beauty as we ascended the road which ran along the edge of the ravine, fringed with majestic euphorbias; in the distance deep blue mountains, and plains of red sand, then wavy bush-covered hills, and in the valley below us the winding river, and our rear guard, with their long line of waggons slowly advancing.
It was not till the afternoon that the last waggon reached the top of the ascent. No longer shaded by high wooded banks, we found the sun oppressively hot as we trekked along through endless clumps of dusty spek-boom, or elephant tree. In the evening we had a magnificent sunset view of the Amatolas; and just as night set in came to a halt (after a march of about two and twenty miles) at Lieuw Fontein (lion's spring), close to a small military post standing alone in a desolate country, and garrisoned by some Hottentot Levies, under an officer of the line, who must have had a lively time of it, as no one dare go beyond the gates, except with a strong mounted escort.
Orders were issued to march at eight next morning, a most gentlemanly hour, as all agreed, and the more cordially as the distance to be performed was only six miles, to the Kat River, to pasture the oxen, which now absolutely required rest and food. They were turned out to graze under the protection of a subaltern's guard, while we hastened to purify ourselves in the rocky stream, protected by an armed party on the willow banks; for some dozen Kaffirs in red blankets were seen on a low hill about a mile off, their attention apparently divided equally between the herds and the bathers.
After this welcome rest we resumed our march next morning, but before many miles were accomplished, the waggons in front came to a stand-still at the foot of a steep short hill. Judging from its apparently moderate height we thought the stoppage would only be brief, but to our surprise, soon observed the more knowing drivers in rear of the train begin to make deliberate preparation for breakfast, those nearer the front contenting themselves with a biscuit. Fires were made, coffee pounded, dirty bags rummaged, and lumps of raw meat drawn out, studded with copper caps and