“I will give the bottle to Untsikana when I see him again,” Frank rejoined, “and advise him to pitch it into the nearest river, or empty it away in the bush. It is nasty stuff to carry about.”
But Frank Jamieson did not see Untsikana again, for the friendly chief quitted the kraal that very evening to rejoin his brother-warriors, the majority of whom had by this time crossed the frontier into British territory, and were committing great ravages and depredations amongst the Albany farms and settlements—so much so that Colonel Somerset had to march with the greater number of his troops to Graham’s Town, and from thence follow up the enemy into Lower Albany.
Chapter Twenty One.
In Durance vile—The Prisoners learn their fate—A fatal Dose.
For three days after Untsikana left the kraal, Tom Flinders and Frank Jamieson were kept in the closest confinement, not being allowed to take any exercise, nor even so much as show their noses outside their narrow prison. During this weary time our unfortunate friends—though they had sufficient both to eat and drink, and were not made to suffer actual personal violence—were forced to put up with the insolent taunts of their captors, and with the virulent abuse of the women and children, who evidently took a delight in congregating round the hut, and assailing its occupants with every insulting epithet they could think of; and, what was far worse, they lost no opportunity of flinging mud, mealie-husks, and other filth through the low doorway, “as though,” as Tom truly remarked, “the hut was not dirty enough already!”
This was, of course, exceedingly annoying, and Tom Flinders waxed very indignant; but his friend took things in a more philosophical spirit, remarking that, as they could not possibly put a stop to these unpleasant attentions, they had best “grin and bear them.” On the fourth morning after the friendly chief’s departure, the old Caffre who had been told off to attend on the prisoners and bring them their daily food, informed Frank Jamieson that he and his companion in misfortune were to be taken under escort to one of the principal Caffre strongholds beyond the Bashee River, and there to become the slaves of Untsikana’s father—a chief of no small importance.
“Never more shall you see your people,” said the old fellow with a malicious grin; for, true to the instincts of his savage nature, he felt a cruel pleasure in attempting to strike terror into the hearts of his prisoners. “Our brave and invincible warriors have eaten up the ‘red soldiers’ of the island-queen, and are now sweeping before them the hated white men. Not one shall be left alive in this land except you and this boy, and you will end your days in slavery!”
“What does the old rascal say?” asked Tom, to whom the Caffre tongue was quite unintelligible. “Something unpleasant, I’ll wager a dollar; he looks so precious satisfied with himself. Ugh, you hoary-headed, hardhearted old sinner!” he added, as the man left the hut.