Perils in the Transvaal and Zululand

by H. C. Adams

The night, however, passed without disturbance, and when the morning dawned it revealed an unexpected spectacle. The British force was clearly to be discerned, by the first beams of the sun, stationed on the top of the Amajuba hill, the ascent of which must have occupied the hours of darkness. It must have been a most difficult and perilous undertaking, and it seemed wonderful that it could have been accomplished in the dark, and without arousing the vigilance of the Boers, who were encamped in the immediate vicinity. There they were, however,—the scarlet uniforms forming bright spots against the background of rock and sky,—and the brass gun, which, by a marvel of engineering skill, had been dragged up the precipitous steeps, sparkling in the sun, as it was fixed in its position, commanding the camp of the sleeping Boers below.

“How in the world can they have managed that?” exclaimed Rivers. “Nothing but a bird, I should have thought, could get up there. The gun, of course they must have hoisted up after them. It is a most daring exploit; but I suppose Sir George has got the upper hand of them now.”

“I am not so sure of that,” rejoined Hardy. “I grant you this is as bold and venturous a feat as ever has been attempted in war. But I don’t know that it will succeed against these Boers. You see, though they have taken possession of the heights, they have not intrenched themselves. The broken masses of rock furnish a cover behind which sharpshooters may hide themselves while they fire on the enemy. But the Boers will be able to fire up at them quite as securely as they will be able to fire down at the Boers. And if the Boers, whose numbers greatly exceed theirs, clamber up on all sides, under cover of the fire of their friends, there is nothing to keep them back. Our men will be overpowered by weight of numbers. I wish I could see them begin to intrench themselves, but there is no sign of it. I hope we are not going to see the Isandhlwana disaster acted over again.”

“I suppose they must have been too tired, when they got up there last night to throw up intrenchments,” remarked George.

“Very likely indeed,” returned Hardy, “but they do not appear to be too tired this morning. If they are wise, they will not begin firing until they have made their position safe.”

Meanwhile on the summit of the hill there was triumph and rejoicing. The soldiers had felt keenly the defeats which they had again and again sustained at the hands of an enemy for whom they had entertained a traditional contempt, and who, they were persuaded, if they could once bring them to a fair encounter, would fly before them. But they had been shot down from behind cover, without the chance being given them of returning their adversaries’ fire. But here, at last, the tables were turned. They occupied now the vantage-ground from which the foe might be assailed without the risk of suffering retaliation. A genuine British cheer broke forth as the gun opened on the slumbering Dutchmen below, followed by bursts of merriment as the sleepers started up in alarm and confusion, rushing in all directions to find protection from the deadly hail from above. But they did not take to immediate flight, as their assailants had expected. Niching themselves in the hollows of the rocks or behind the mountain ridges, they opened a fire from all directions on the occupants of the hill, obliging these to keep close behind the cover of the rocks as the only mode of escaping the storm of musketry that continued to be poured upon them. No attempt, however, was made to dislodge them, and it was obvious that, if they retained their position on the crest of the hill, the Boer camp must be broken up, leaving the way open for the British troops to enter the Transvaal.

But the English had been once more deceived by the skilful manoeuvring of their enemies. Under cover of a tall cliff which interposed between them and Amajuba hill, the Boer leaders were determining their plan of operations.

“I am sure one of the paths is practicable,” Vander Heyden was saying. “It is on the opposite side to that by which the English made their way to the top, and I think it most likely that they know nothing of it. It is completely sheltered from their fire until you are close to the top, and there is a hollow near that where a number of men may be massed. Our adversaries, with their usual contempt for their enemies, have omitted to intrench themselves or fortify their position. There would probably not be more than half a dozen men keeping guard at the point in question. A rush of a dozen or twenty would force the way in, and then the others would follow. As there is no shelter or means of escape except down the steep sides of the hill, they must all surrender or be killed.”

“Do you yourself know the way up the path, Vander Heyden?” asked the Boer general.

“Yes,” answered Henryk; “I have twice been up to the top that way to make an examination of the English camp.”