Early on the morning of the 13th April, the troops marched from Victoria in two columns—one commanded by Colonel Henry Somerset, Cape Mounted Rifles, the other by Colonel Richardson, 7th Dragoon Guards—and crossing the Keiskamma near its junction with Debe River, they, on the 15th, encamped on the Debe Flats, near the base of the “Taban Doda,” or Man Mountain; here the two columns were formed into one division, of which Colonel Somerset assumed command.
At cock-crow on the following day the troops were again on the move; and, the camp having been broken up, they advanced towards the Amatola Mountains. The point at which Colonel Somerset intended to enter the Amatolas was Burns Hill, where there was a large mission station, and near which the great chief Sandilli had his principal kraal.
Shortly before the division was formed up, Captain Jamieson received orders to detail an officer and twenty men of his corps to join a reconnoitring party, under command of Lieutenant B— of the Mounted Rifles. The officer who brought the order was a very young and consequential subaltern of the —th Foot, attached to Colonel Somerset’s staff as galloper. Said he, when he had delivered his message:
“B— has orders to advance towards Burns Hill, and if he finds Sandilli’s kraal deserted, or only held by a small force, he is to occupy it. You’ll be good enough to make your fellows hurry themselves; in affairs like this it is important that no time should be lost.”
“They shall be in the saddle in ten minutes,” the captain replied. “I hear the mission station has been destroyed,” he added. “Is that so?”
“Yes, but the missionaries and their people bolted, and are now at Graham’s Town,” was the reply.
“Should all go well, we shall encamp at Burns Hill this evening, and there await the arrival of Major Sutton’s ‘commando’ of Hottentots from the Kat River. If he joins us to-night, no doubt we shall be at it ‘hammer and tongs’ to-morrow—or next day at the latest.”
“I trust we shall soon bring the Caffres to reason,” Captain Jamieson answered, with something like a sigh. “These oft-recurring little wars must inevitably ruin the country, for they paralyse every industry and trade; besides, the destruction of life and property is simply appalling.”
“I’m afraid we military men think more of ‘medals, rank, ribbons,’ etc, than of trade, industry, or even life and property,” was the flippant rejoinder. “Of course that is the soldier’s point of view; but you amateurs—”
“Amateurs!” exclaimed Tom, boiling over at hearing his “chief” thus designated. “Coxy young—”