Entering a Cave Stronghold
The “caves” in which the rebels take refuge are labyrinths of narrow tunnels twisting about underground between the rocks. The entrance is generally near the top of a koppie, and to enter is like going down a chimney or a steep drain, with an armed nigger waiting for you at the bottom.
29th September.—On leaving our camp ground this morning, which was on the Shangani River, Gielgud, following behind the column, saw two Matabele spies peeping at us from among the reeds in the river bed, and he cleverly effected their capture with the assistance of some of his boys; one of the men carried a Martini–Henry rifle. When we got into camp that night, a man of the police, who was ill in the hospital–waggon, died suddenly of pneumonia. As we should have to start at 3.45 next morning, we had his funeral then and there, as soon as the grave could be dug. It was an impressive ceremony, the military funeral in the dark, among gleams of camp–fires and lanterns, with a storm of thunder and lightning gathering round.
1st October.—We had at last reached Inyati, only to find a letter from the General to say that the impi that we had come for has sent in to say that they wish to surrender, so that our last few days of hurried marching with weary mules and horses had again been thrown away. The General’s letter goes on to say that the rebels are submitting in every direction, the war is practically over in Matabeleland, and that a court of inquiry is to assemble at Gwelo to hear my reasons for trying Uwini by court–martial instead of handing him over for civil power to try. That this is by direction of the High Commission at Cape Town, who, on hearing that Uwini had been tried and executed, had telegraphed ordering my arrest; but this in effect the General had respectfully declined to carry out. In his letter the General says a court can assemble “as soon as Paget and you have finished your operations against Wedza.” This was the first I had heard of my column being required to co–operate against Wedza, but a hint is as good as a nod, or whatever the phrase is, and I am losing no time about acting upon it. I have picked out all the best horses of the Hussars and the Mounted Infantry, amounting to 115, and these, together with a 7–pounder and two Maxims, I am going to take to Wedza’s, with waggons carrying three weeks’ provisions. Wedza’s is about a hundred miles to the south–east of this. I am leaving all the sick and worn–out horses here at Inyati, where Poore will take charge of them when he arrives about two days hence. The Afrikander corps under Captain van Niekerk belong to the temporary Matabeleland Police, and their engagement shortly expires, so I shall not take them with me, but shall send them back to Buluwayo ready for disbandment, and with them will go the ambulance, taking such men as are sick. These, happily, do not amount to many, but unfortunately include two officers of the Mounted Infantry, namely, Kekewich, who has both hands disabled from veldt sores, and Armstrong ill with dysentery. I am also losing the services of De Moleyns, who has been detailed to organise the new police force in Mashonaland.
“God save the Queen!”
At a camp–fire concert, held in honour of Her Majesty’s record reign, all hands, Boers as well as Colonials and Imperial troops, joined heartily in the cheers that greeted the proposal of her health, and in singing “God save the Queen.”