The column came along in the following order: first, Coope’s troop of scouts, then a squadron of the armed police, the corps of Cape Boys, the screw–guns on mules, four squadrons of Plumer’s corps, followed by the led horses of the scouts and the rearguard.
The pace, as is always the case in a night march, was exceedingly slow; every small stream, or ridge of rocks, or piece of tangled bush caused long delays, and the head of the column had continually to halt, or to move at a very slow pace, in order to enable the rear to close up. In Ashanti, where, similarly, we had to move in long strings in single file, I have found it necessary to halt the head of the column for as much as an hour after getting over a fallen tree with a small brook alongside, so long did it take the column to get over the obstacle in the dark and to close up to its proper distance again. Similarly, in this case we came to a small rocky pass, of less than fifty yards, which delayed us for an hour. Much of the delay was caused by horses losing their footing and getting down among the rocks; the battery mules, wonderful beasts that they are, came over without a mishap, but the horses seemed perfectly helpless in the dark, and eventually got so far behind that they lost touch with the column. The officer in charge of them, finding himself hopelessly detached, made all snug for the night, and eventually got back to camp in the early dawn. Luckily, my orderly, Parsons, who had charge of my horse, and consequently of my two days’ food, managed to keep touch with the column, as did also the leaders of four or five other horses.
The difficulties of keeping up connection were increased by our having to maintain absolute silence, and not showing lights of any description. Close above our path we could see the smouldering watch–fires of the enemy, and it speaks well for the order of the force that it passed so near to them without arousing their suspicion.
At length, after struggling on through thorny bush and over broken, hilly ground for six hours, we found ourselves, an hour before dawn, at the foot of the ridge which commands this part of the Matopos. Here we rested a while, hoping that the horses might rejoin us. I was but lightly equipped for this night march,—a flannel shirt and breeches well–ventilated by wear and tear; as long as we were moving, I was all the better for it, but when it came to lying about in the chill of the early morning, I began to feel the cold, and as I lay in the long grass, I wrapped it round me to form a kind of blanket. As the dawn came on, we proceeded to ascend the ridge by the narrow path along the face of the cliff, which my party had taken in the fight of the 5th. We approached the top with all precaution, and surrounded the spot where we expected to find the Cape Boy and his piquet, but to our regret we found they were not there; this evidently was their post by day, whereas their night quarters were somewhere farther back. And shortly afterwards we found them. There was a lively ten minutes between them and our Cape Boys among the rocks, and just as we were about to send reinforcements, our boys returned jubilant, having driven out the Matabele, killing four and getting one of their number wounded,—the bullet having struck his bandolier and glanced through his arm.
From our position on the top of the ridge we had a splendid view of jumbled mountain–tops and rocky, bush–grown gorges stretching in every direction,—a brutal country for military operations, but a splendid one from a rebel’s point of view. The ridge itself forms a kind of backbone or watershed through the mountains, and is passable throughout its length for troops and mule–guns.
Passing round the scene of the fight of the 5th, we came to the mountain which formed Mnyakavula’s stronghold, a place covered with huts among the bush and boulders, and evidently full of caves. It was practically deserted, but still one or two niggers were to be seen about, so we fired a few shells into it to show there was no ill–feeling, and then sent some Cape Boys to examine it and to destroy the kraal. In going over it we found innumerable fresh blood–stains about the rocks, showing where wounded men had been brought in, and in two of the caves we found a number of dead bodies,—all showing how heavily the garrison of even this one small stronghold had suffered on the 5th.
Here we halted for breakfast, each of us boiling our own “billy,” but having to share our eatables to a certain extent with those unfortunates whose horses had been lost during the night.
Then we pushed on again towards Umlugulu’s stronghold, the same which we had reconnoitred from the rear the day before yesterday. Here we hoped to find some enemy, because this impi was one which took no real part in the fight of the 5th, and had therefore not been broken up by us. As we approached the place, we could see numbers of men gathering both on the right and on the left of our mountain; dogs were barking to the left, and women yelling. The guns were quickly unlimbered, and were soon sending their shells crashing into the gullies of the opposite mountain. A futile fire was returned, the distance was too great, and presently the enemy could be seen creeping away by twos and threes to safer and more distant retreats.
Once more my telescope did me a good turn. I saw a very suspicious–looking stone deep down in the canyon below us. I aimed the glass for it, and my heart jumped when I saw it was what I had hoped for, a cow looking out of a hole in the rocks. I could then see that there were others in the cave behind it, and, sending down a party of Cape Boys, they soon were in possession of a herd of thirty head.