“I should like to hear about it,” said Tom, who dearly loved a yarn.
“Well,” replied his companion; “it is rather a long story, but I can tell you the main facts, for I was one of those who pursued him. In May, 1835, Hintza, the paramount Chief of Caffreland, was a prisoner in the British camp, and, for his sins, had been sentenced to pay a fine of 50,000 head of cattle. This fine he expressed himself willing to pay, if he were allowed to return to his own country to superintend the collection of the cattle. At first the governor would not listen to this, but after a lot of palaver and negotiation, it was arranged that Hintza should be permitted to go, under a strong escort; his son Kreilli and his uncle Bookoo being retained as hostages in the British camp.
“An old Rifle Brigadesman, General Sir Harry Smith, was selected to command the escort; which consisted of both horse and foot, regulars and irregulars, but no artillery. I was then serving in the ‘Guides’ corps as a volunteer, and was one of those appointed to the general’s body-guard.
“Well, the column left the head-quarter camp on the banks of the Kei, and advanced into Caffreland by forced marches. Hintza was treated as a sort of a prisoner at large, and usually rode with the general; he was splendidly mounted, and had been permitted to retain his arms—the usual bundle of seven assegais.
“On the fourth morning after leaving the camp, the column reached the summit of a table-topped mountain. We now had a splendid view of the country beyond the Bashee River, and to our surprise, saw thousands and thousands of cattle being driven away from us.
“This circumstance somewhat staggered us, and Sir Harry was examining the retreating masses through his field-glass, when suddenly somebody shouted, ‘Hintza has bolted!’
“On hearing the cry, Sir Harry dropped his glasses and, putting spurs to his charger, raced after the fugitive, who had got a start of fifty or sixty yards. We, of course, joined in the chase, but the general soon distanced us, and, overtaking the chief, ordered him to pull up; whereupon Hintza made a stab at him with his bundle of assegais.
“Sir Harry parried the thrust, and drawing a pistol threatened to shoot the chief, if he did not immediately surrender. Hintza replied by making another attempt to stab him, so Sir Harry fired, but without effect.
“Thousands of Caffres were now to be seen crowning the hills in all directions, and towards them Hintza rode for dear life. Once more Sir Harry dashed up to him, and, seizing him by his tiger-skin kaross, hurled him to the ground; but the impetus of his gallop carried him past the fallen chief, who was on his legs in an instant, and off down the precipitous side of the mountain.
“By this time four of the Guides, who had joined in the chase, came up, and jumping from their horses, followed the fugitive on foot; these four were S—y, D—r, B—r and myself. I sent two shots after the flying chief, both of which went wide of their mark; he then gained the bush at the foot of the hill, and disappeared from sight.