10th October (to be marked with a red mark when I can get a red pencil).—Jackson and a native boy accompanied me scouting this morning; we three started off at three in the morning, so that by dawn we were in sight of one of the hills we expected might be occupied by Paget, and where we hoped to see his fires. We saw none there; but on our way, in moving round the hill which overlooks our camp, we saw a match struck high up near the top of the mountain. This one little spark told us a good deal. It showed that the enemy were there; that they were awake and alert (I say “they,” because one nigger would not be up there by himself in the dark); and that they were aware of our force being at Posselt’s (as, otherwise, they would not be occupying that hill). However, they could not see anything of us, as it was then quite dark; and we went farther on among the mountains. In the early morning light we crossed the deep river bed of the Umchingwe River, and, in doing so, we noticed the fresh spoor of a lion in the sand. We went on, and had a good look at the enemy’s stronghold; and on our way back, as we approached this river bed, we agreed to go quietly, in case the lion should be moving about in it. On looking down over the bank, my heart jumped into my mouth, when I saw a grand old brute just walking in behind a bush. Jackson could not see him, but was off his horse as quick as I was, and ready with his gun; too ready, indeed, for the moment that the lion appeared, walking majestically out from behind the bush that had hidden him, Jackson fired hurriedly, striking the ground under his foot, and, as we afterwards discovered, knocking off one of his claws. The lion tossed up his shaggy head and looked at us in dignified surprise. Then I fired, and hit him in the ribs with a leaden bullet from my Lee–Metford. He reeled, sprang round, and staggered a few paces, when Jackson, who was firing a Martini–Henry, let him have one in the shoulder; this knocked him over sideways, and he turned about, growling savagely.
“Halt! who comes there?”
I could scarcely believe that we had actually got a lion at last, but resolved to make sure of it; so, telling Jackson not to fire unless it was necessary (for fear of spoiling the skin with the larger bullet of the Martini), I got down closer to the beast, and fired a shot at the back of his neck as he turned his head away from me. This went through his spine, and came out through the lower jaw, killing him dead. We were pretty delighted at our success, but our nigger was mad with happiness, for a dead lion—provided he is not a man–eater—has many invaluable gifts for a Kaffir, in the shape of love–philtres, charms against disease or injury, and medicines that produce bravery. It was quite delightful to shake hands with the mighty paws of the dead lion, and to pull at his magnificent tawny mane, and to look into his great deep yellow eyes. And then we set to work to skin him; two skinning, while the other kept watch in case of the enemy sneaking up to catch us while we were thus occupied. In skinning him, we found that he was very fat, and also that he had been much wounded by porcupines, portions of whose quills had pierced the skin and lodged in his flesh in several places. Our nigger cut out the eyes, gall–bladder, and various bits of the lion’s anatomy, as fetish medicine. I filled my carbine bucket with some of the fat, as I knew my two boys, Diamond and M’tini, would very greatly value it. Then, after hiding the head in a neighbouring bush, we packed the skin on to one of the ponies, and returned to camp mightily pleased with ourselves.
On arrival there, the excitement among the boys was very great, for, as we rode into camp, we pretended we had merely shot a buck; but when Diamond turned out to take my horse from me, he suddenly recognised the skin, and his eyes almost started from his head as he put his hand over his mouth and ejaculated, “Ow! Ingonyama!” (“Great Scott! a lion!”) Then, grinning with excitement, he asked leave to go and get some more of it. In vain I told him that it was eight miles away, and close under the enemy’s stronghold. He seized up an assegai and started off at a steady trot along our back–spoor. And very soon one nigger after another was doubling out of camp after him, to get a share of the booty. In the evening they came back quite happy with various tit–bits, and also the head. The heart was boiled and made into soup, which was greedily partaken of by every boy in camp, with a view to gaining courage. Diamond assured me that the bits of fat, etc., of which he was now the proud possessor, would buy him several cattle when he got back to Natal. Alas! I am afraid he may be reckoning without his rinderpest!
12th October.—No news yet from Paget, although Jackson has sent some runners to get round past the enemy’s country to communicate with him, and to tell him that we are waiting for his orders here. In the meantime, I do not intend to waste time, but shall go for one or two of the minor chiefs round about here; and shall also reconnoitre Wedza’s stronghold, so as to have, if possible, a map and report of it ready for Paget’s use when he comes.
To–day we have marched to the Umchingwe River, and our camp is close to where I shot the lion yesterday. We got there at midday, and our arrival was at once signalled by the rebels to each other by means of smoke–fires, lasting for about three minutes, on the two mountains which form the strongholds of Monti and Matzetetza. I had sent some native spies to find out where Wedza is now keeping his cattle, as, if they are grazed away from the stronghold, we might be able to make a raid on them, but the scouts have not yet returned; nor has Jackson come back yet with some friendly natives whom he went away to collect. But since the warning has been given to the various strongholds by these smoke–fires, I thought it useless to wait any further, and have ordered that this night, at sundown, all available mounted men (numbering about 120), should go to reconnoitre Wedza’s stronghold, taking two days’ rations with them.
Meantime I started in the afternoon myself, with Parkyn, my orderly, to act as interpreter, to go to Matzetetza’s, to see if we could get his people to talk with us, and if so, to advise them to surrender. They had already been attacked some weeks before by Laing’s column, which had driven them from their kraals for the time being, but they had since reoccupied them. But when Parkyn and I got there, we found the kraal apparently completely deserted, and though we shouted for anybody who might be in the caves to come out and talk, explaining to them that we were harmless individuals, merely coming to talk of peace, no one appeared; so we got nothing by our ten–mile ride, except the mild excitement of keeping our eyes open all the time, Parkyn being a little apprehensive of some attempt to cut us off.
So about sundown we rode back and got on to the path which would be followed by our party on its way to Wedza’s, and very soon we saw them coming along in the moonlight, or rather, we heard them long before we saw them, for the air was so clear and still, that though the column was supposed to be moving in silence, we could hear the men muttering to each other for seven minutes before they came up to us, that is, over half a mile. We ourselves, to test their eyesight, sat quite still, and found that we were not noticed until they were within twenty yards of us, although the moon was bright and our horses were grazing near.