25th July.—To–day I have had a long day reconnoitring, taking Pyke, Jan Grootboom, and Tagili. Pyke, as I have before indicated, is one of the best among a very good lot of young Colonial officers serving in Plumer’s corps; and a very keen and useful scouting officer. Jan Grootboom is a Cape Boy of Zulu extraction, and is a man of exceptional courage and soldierly ability. As one of Grey’s Scouts—and one who loathed the ordinary Kaffir—said of him: “He is not a proper nigger; his skin is black, but he has a white man’s heart. I will shake hands with him.” He is a clever scout, and a daring spy—one who has no hesitation in disguising himself as a Matabele, on occasion, and going in among their women to gather information. And he is a first–rate man in a fight. So, altogether, he was of the greatest service to me. Tagili is a good native scout, and faithful, but not “in the same street” with Grootboom.
We went into the Matopos, to the gorge of the Chabez River, about fifteen miles east of camp. It is a very nasty bit of country, and we had to keep our eyes open as we went, for we knew the rebels were about, although we could see nothing of them. This is a particularly dangerous sign; if they see you are a strong party, too strong for them to attack or capture, they do not mind showing themselves, and they come out to get a better look at you; but if it is a small party, and one which they have hopes of, they will hide and lie low, in order to get you in their grasp. I think they had hopes of us, for we got pretty close to their stronghold, and saw where they ought to be, but not one of them showed up. As we prowled around, we came across frequent tracks not many minutes old; possibly they went and waited for us on the path by which we arrived, but if they did so, they were sold, for we came back by an entirely different route.
The Chabez River rises in the valley of the Umzingwane, and runs south through the Matopos. It enters the Matopos through an enormous gorge, in the cliffs and heights of which the rebels have numerous caves, while they keep their cattle in the thick bush jungle along the river banks.
We first approached the place by the upper ground among the mountains, then, making our way round, we got into the Umzingwane valley, from which we could look into the mouth of the gorge, and could see what an impossible country it was for working in. We spent some time guessing at the enemy’s position, determining which would be the best way to attack them, and in mapping the ground; and then we retired a short distance across the valley to a koppie, from which we could watch the place without fear of anybody approaching us unseen.
But the way we had come was an impossible one for waggons, and I wanted to ascertain whether it was possible to bring them by a better route along the Umzingwane valley; so, leaving Pyke and Grootboom to watch the stronghold,—for we hoped that as evening came on, the enemy would light up their fires for cooking, and would thus betray their position,—I made my way back along the valley in the direction of our camp. Here I arrived after dark, having found this way also impossible for waggons. It would therefore seem necessary to organise some pack transport to take us to the Chabez stronghold, and afterwards, by the Umzingwane valley, towards the strongholds of the eastern end of the Matopos. Once here, we shall be on the Tuli–Buluwayo road, where the waggons, having gone round by Hope Fountain, or by Buluwayo, could rejoin us (vide map, p. 103).
27th July.—Major Kershaw took out a strong patrol for a further reconnaissance of the Chabez position. He was able to get up to the high ground overlooking the river gorge, and found that it broke up into most difficult country, of koppies and bush and deep ravines leading down to the river. While he was there, a good number of the enemy showed themselves on the different koppies, evidently watching his moves, but not inclined to attack him. On his return march to camp, Major Kershaw, with one or two others, was riding at some distance from the main party, when he came across a large party of the enemy going towards the Chabez; he luckily saw them first, and was able to hide until they had passed by.
Out in camp here Press correspondents have to bring me their messages, in order to get them signed for transmission by the field telegraph, and it is most interesting to see what marvellous news some of them can manage to fake up out of very inadequate material. Anything to be different from his rival! but is it always certain whether the information sent is true or not? Poor old Mother Necessity is not “in it” with a budding war correspondent. Many of them do not seem to grasp the broader military features of what is going on; but the local pressmen, being often fighting men themselves, are much the best in this respect, and it is a great pity that it is not their news which is cabled home.
29th July.—To–day, when out scouting by myself, being at some distance from my boy and the horses, I lay for a short rest and a quiet look–out among some rocks and grass overlooking a little stream; and I saw a charming picture. Presently there was a slight rattle of trinkets, and a swish of the tall yellow grass, followed by the sudden apparition of a naked Matabele warrior standing glistening among the rocks of the streamlet within thirty yards of me. His white war ornaments—the ball of clipped feathers on his brow and the long white cow’s–tail plumes which depended from his arms and knees—contrasted strongly with his rich brown skin. His kilt of wild cat–skins and monkeys’ tails swayed round his loins. His left hand bore his assegais and knobkerrie beneath the great dappled ox–hide shield; and, in his right, a yellow walking–staff.
