In talking things over with the leading man among them, we found that they were tired of war, and were only anxious to surrender, but were kept from doing so by the orders of their chiefs, backed up by piquets placed on all their paths. They told us, too, that the path on which their encampment was, was a new one lately made by their co–rebels for getting to the northward to Inyoka; and that if we followed this path that night, it would bring us by the morning to the Gwelo River, and that there large parties of them were massed. Naturally, we determined to push on that evening, taking two men with us to act as guides; and we ordered the remainder to go down to our waggons, and there report themselves as prisoners, which they were quite willing to do. The two men we took with us were Umtenti and Umbalena.
Before starting on our evening march, we went and examined the homestead that we had passed in the morning, and found it was that of a white man, whose remains were lying in the garden. He had evidently been murdered there, and the place ransacked by rebels. We buried him, and put up a roughly–made cross above his head, and then started on our way into the Somabula Forest. But now the horses were beginning to feel the effect of hard work and want of proper food. We had no grain for them, nor could we carry it if we had—their only forage was the withered, parched–up grass, which had no sustenance in it; watering–places were few and far between; the atmosphere was hot, the sand was soft and heavy under foot; so that, after we had been marching for some hours, I was not surprised to hear that one of the horses had given out, and could go no more; and several of the men, finding that their horses were but staggering on under them, got off to walk. Our pace was very slow, and the way was dark amongst the trees; the spoor was very hard to follow, and thus it took us a long time to get over any distance. At last we called a halt in a slightly open spot where there was grass, the horses got a bite of food, and we lay down and slept in our tracks for about an hour. Then on again till long past midnight. I was hoping all the time that we might arrive at dawn upon the Gwelo River, and thus surprise the enemy encamped there; but I now saw that the horses were too done for any active work unless they had a rest; and so we halted, off–saddled, and bivouacked, having done about forty miles to–day.
19th September.—Starting before dawn, we pressed on again through the forest, and emerged after about three miles on the bank of the Gwelo, passing through numerous deserted scherms of the enemy, but without seeing any signs of his recent presence there. Our guide now told us that if the enemy were not here, they would be at a little stream about a day’s march the other side of the Gwelo; but while we were examining the drift, where the track of the Matabele crossed the river, we found a fresh spoor of two men going north, and our guides immediately said it would be no use to follow up the enemy along that path, because these tracks meant that two men had made their escape from the kraals we had captured yesterday, and had gone on ahead to put the remainder on the qui vive; and with our horses in their present state, I saw it would be useless to go farther away from our base on so doubtful a venture.
The Gwelo River itself is not a pleasing one; it is chiefly a bed of hard, black mud, lying between black, shiny rocks, with a few pools here and there, with an unpleasant smell about it. The sun, too, is now very powerful, and we are all feeling tired.
It has been an immense disappointment to all of us not to find the enemy here, but the hussars are first–rate fellows, and are cheery in spite of all their hard work and absence of reward. Most of them walked the greater part of the march on foot, in order to save their horses. They all work so well and quietly, no order even in daytime or in camp is given above the ordinary tone of voice, but it is always heard and obeyed at once; naturally it is a great comfort to have such men with one, for things are looking a bit more difficult now. We have placed twenty miles of waterless forest behind us, we have only three days’ groceries with us and no meat, and our horses are very weak.
“A Merciful Man,” etc.
Our horses gave out from want of food and overwork, though the men cared for them in every way, walking in their holey boots, and sharing with them their small ration of bread.