“S—y and B—r now entered the bush from above, and D—r and I (who were further down the hill) from below; and, working towards one another, we presently closed in upon our human quarry, S—y being the first to come upon him.
“Hintza was then standing up to his middle in a narrow stream, which ran through the bush, beneath a shelving rock; and when he caught sight of S—y he drew an assegai, and poised it. Nothing daunted S—y approached and called upon him to surrender, whereupon the Caffre threw back his right arm and was in the act of hurling the assegai at his pursuer, when the latter, seeing that he must either kill or be killed, levelled his rifle and fired. His ball struck the fugitive right in the centre of the forehead, and throwing up his hands, he fell backwards against a rock. We rushed in and lifted him up, but the rifle-ball had done its work, and Hintza, the powerful Chief of Caffraria, had gone to his last account.”
“Serve the treacherous scoundrel right!” exclaimed Tom, when the lieutenant came to the end—the tragical end—of his narrative. “Had he got the escort into his power not one of you would have lived to tell the tale. I suppose that was what he was aiming at?”
“No doubt of it; his purpose was to entice us into the heart of his country, and then surround us with an overwhelming force,” rejoined Mr B—. “He played a bold game, and lost it! Still we were, one and all, from the general downwards, sorry for his untimely death; and nobody more so than the man who shot him. And now, Flinders, I think you had better ride with your troop, for yonder is Burns Hill. The mission station lies to the right, and Sandilli’s kraal is a little beyond it.”
In another ten minutes they came in sight of the mission station, and B— galloped forward to join his advanced files.
“Keep your fellows well in hand,” said he to Tom, before riding off; “and be ready to support me if necessary. From the fact that the houses and chapel are still standing, I am inclined to think that Sandilli intends to hold his ground.”
Mr B—, however, was mistaken, for on approaching, with every precaution, Burns Hill, he found that both the mission station and the chief’s kraal were deserted; but though the former was not burned down (as had been reported), every house had been ransacked, and broken furniture, papers, school-books, Bibles, and many other articles lay scattered in all directions.
“Verily, the Caffre is a destructive animal!” cried Tom, when he rode up and surveyed the scene. “His bump of mischief must be strongly developed.”
“A European mob would commit quite as much damage, if in the mood,” Lieutenant B— answered. “I don’t think there would be much to choose between Santerre’s ‘sans culottes,’ and Sandilli’s ‘amadodas.’ But behold our only trophy!” he added, holding up a couple of lions’ tails. “Sergeant Jackson found them at the entrance of the chief’s hut.”
“What are they?” asked Tom. “Chamboks?” (A peculiar kind of thonged whip.)