A Cape Boy Sentry
During a night patrol we came on a Cape Boy wrapped in a blanket, whom at first we took to be an armed native. We asked who he was. He replied, “A sentry.” “Where is your piquet (support)?” “Ticket?” said he, misunderstanding, “I don’t carry a ticket. I am a soldier!”
All natives who are friendly have to carry a pass or “ticket,” and a Cape Boy, though black, would much resent being mistaken for a local native.
17th June.—Having heard of some Matabele firing on a party of our men, about three miles out on the Salisbury Road, yesterday, De Moleyns and I took an early morning ride with one of the morning patrols. Started in the dark at 4 a. m., and moved out along that road. Presently we came upon an armed nigger squatting at the roadside, so muffled up in a blanket and a sack that he did not hear us coming. We captured him, and then found that he was a sentry of one of our own outlying “Cape Boys’” piquets.
I said to him, “Where is your piquet?”
He replied, with much haughtiness, “I not carry a ticket; I am soldier!”
[Explanation.—All ordinary natives have to carry a “ticket” or pass, so that they may not be taken up and shot as spies.]
We went on, but saw no signs of Matabele. At daybreak we got to Beal’s camp, had a cup of coffee there with Daly (formerly in the 13th), and got home in time for breakfast, much refreshed by our morning’s ride, and especially as we saw, on our way home, paauw, guinea–fowl, hares, and pheasants. Office all day.