Chapter Eleven.
Journey to the Zulu country—Hunger the best sauce—A popular song—An unexpected guest—Panda’s regiments—His pet vultures—An ingenious scarecrow—Another reit-buck—The telescope—A lesson in spooring—A trial of nerves—Intruding leopards—A Kaffir feast and concert—Baked, blinded, and poisoned—Peshauna, a Kaffir belle—Kaffir love-tale—An abduction and a rescue—None but the brave deserve the fair.
Having received intelligence of a very good game country, between the Imvoti and Tugela rivers, which was seldom visited, either by the traders who went into the Zulu country or by any hunters, I determined to make an expedition into this part, which was about seventy miles from Port Natal. To accomplish my trip with comfort, I provided myself with a pack-ox that was able to carry about a hundredweight; this animal I loaded with some spiced beef, as a stand-by in case of getting no game, some brandy, biscuits, salt, powder, tobacco, and a few beads; the latter as presents for the Kaffirs. I started my ox, with two of my Kaffirs and one of my horses, to get a day’s journey in advance, reserving my second horse to ride after the cavalcade. I made all inquiries as to the style of place, but found it a rare occurrence for two people’s stories to agree. Some said there was no game at all there, excepting a few bucks; one or two Kaffirs had heard that elands and buffaloes were often found in the country near the Imvoti river; others said there was not a single head of anything to be found. Putting all these accounts down at their proper value, I determined to inspect the place and judge for myself; for I generally found that the ignorant or indolent reported that there was nothing in a country in which a sportsman would find plenty. I started across the Umganie at peep of day, and made a journey of nearly forty miles, when I came up with my Kaffirs. They had been joined by my old friend Matuan, who told me that he was going in the same direction to buy cattle, he having obtained some money by the sale of Indian corn, which he grew in great quantities. I had a small tent amongst the packs on my ox, just big enough to crawl into; it was about seven feet long and three high, and made a comfortable little kennel. I noticed a Dutchman’s house about a mile off; but as I had everything I wanted, and the night was fine and moonlight, I preferred camping under the trees where I then was. We lighted a fire and sat round it. A tin mug full of brandy-and-water being served out to my black companions, they became very talkative. Inyovu, who was armed with one of my guns, had managed to shoot a red bush-buck on the journey, and we were busy lodging the venison in our hungry maws. The appetite one gets at this out-of-door work is perfectly wonderful; being in the open air all day and all night, I suppose, causes a man to become very much, in habit, like some of the four-footed carnivora. In the eating way there is no doubt about it; the meat disappears in heaps; enough to feed an Irish family, here only serves as a meal for one. Scarcely is it finished, when an infallible appetite is again crying out for a supply. I had, unfortunately, forgotten my plates and dishes; I was also without a fork; neither, however, were missed by the Kaffirs; so I was forced to imitate their proceedings. A long strip being cut off the buck, it was laid on the red-hot embers, and was turned occasionally until cooked; a wisp of grass was then put in requisition to hold one end of the meat, while the hot ashes were shaken and knocked off, with a graceful swing of the left hand the other end was caught in the mouth, and held hard until a mouthful was separated with the knife; the remainder was kept hot until one was ready for a second mouthful. This was certainly not a very elegant way of dining, but still it was most delightfully simple.
The Kaffirs seemed to like the flavour that the wood gave to the meat. Not having a taste that way myself, I made use of an iron ramrod to keep the meat from the ashes; I strung the slices on the ramrod, one end of which I stuck into the ground, and allowed it to bend over the fire at an angle of forty-five degrees, cutting off the bits of meat as they were done. After each of us had eaten as much as would have choked three beings in civilised society, the Kaffirs commenced a song. It was a very popular one in this part, commencing, “Eno baba gofile,” with a splendid chorus of “E, yu, yu, yu; E, yu, yu, yu.” It was surprising that no accident happened to any of them, as they shouted at the top of their voices for nearly an hour with a fierce and determined action. Even after my wolf-like repast, the noise was too much for me, and I was about begging them to drop the curtain on their performance, when they suddenly stopped. I looked up and saw the white eyes of a strange Kaffir a few yards from the fire. I saw that my party expected me to speak, so gave the usual salutation, “Saca bona” which was responded to by him. I then asked him to come and sit down and tell us the news, and offered him my snuff-gourd. He soon told me that he was the head man of a neighbouring kraal, that he had heard my Kaffirs singing; and, in fact, he thought a good thing was going on, and he might as well have a slice of it. We handed him the bones of the buck to pick, which were all that were left; he cleaned them most completely, scarcely leaving a mouthful for my two dogs, which had been anxious observers of our operations. My Kaffirs were asking all sorts of questions from the new comer. I found great satisfaction from understanding the language, and before I retired for the night had made out the following as having been the early career of our guest:—
His name was Eondema, and he was one of Panda’s officers. Panda being the great Zulu chief across the Tugela, he mentioned Panda’s name with great awe, as if it were not quite safe even here to speak of it aloud. Eondema was a very fast runner, and had therefore been in Panda’s light infantry regiment called the Impofarns (Elands).
“Panda,” said he, “is a great chief, has many thousands of cattle, and thousands of warriors. His hosts are like the grass, or a flight of locusts; you might cut them down, or tread on them, but thousands would still come on, and victory must be theirs.” He had many regiments, which he called by the names of animals, or by their qualities. These were—the Injlovus, or Elephants, all men of great height and strength. They were armed with a very heavy spear for stabbing, and their shields were made of oxhides, and were stained black. “Ma mee!” They were strong I exclaimed Eondema. Then there were the Ingulubi, or Wild-pigs; the Inyarti, or Buffaloes; the Imvubu, or Hippopotami; the Impofarn, etc. All these regiments were armed with spears and shields. They imitated the actions and noises of the animals from which they took their names, and were obliged in their battles to bring back their own or their enemy’s shield and assagy. When they attacked, they rushed on at a charge in line. One or two assagies, used for throwing, were lighter than those used for stabbing, and were thrown at the enemy when within about forty yards.
The regiment was divided into divisions, the right division throwing their spears to their left half-face, and the left division to their right half-face. This arrangement was intended to dazzle the enemy, and make the shower of spears more difficult to avoid. Eondema belonged to the Impofarn regiment, and, being ambitious, he was always either shooting elephants (being fortunate enough to possess an old musket) or bartering cattle. Eondema’s herds attracted the attention of the chief, and a jealous eye was cast upon them; but they could not well be taken from him without his having committed some crime. Nothing was, however, easier than to find a stick with which to beat him. As it is with others, so it was with Panda. Eondema, there was little doubt, had, by his witchcraft, caused an old cow of his chief’s to die. Fortunately for him, a friend intimated (at great personal risk) that a party had received orders to assagy him during the following night. A hasty retreat across the Tugela (the English boundary) saved him, at the loss, however, of cattle and wives. Being a sharp fellow, he soon again made money, alias cattle, and was at this time head man of the kraal near which I stopped on this night.
There does not seem to be any very great regard for human life amongst the Kaffir chiefs, should they find their authority, supremacy, or selfishness in question.