“If her father might remain on his own lands,” she said, “she would be the sacrifice and guarantee for his future good faith towards the white man. She would leave her own people, and follow Colonel Campbell; his home should be hers; she would forsake all, and dwell with him. This was her last word, her final decision, and she would abide by it.”
It may here be observed, that the young girls in Kaffirland are brought up with strict notions of female propriety; to forfeit their reputation, is to entail on themselves severe punishment, and on their families perpetual disgrace.
Amakeya’s motives were not unappreciated by her hearer, but the proposal was, of course, rejected, with every consideration for her position, and the circumstances by which she had been actuated; and she departed with her father on his journey. We may fancy Amakeya taking a last look at the green places wherein her childhood had been passed, and finally sitting down among a strange people, in sight of the “great waters.” A new and wondrous spectacle to that mountain-girl must have been that mighty and pathless sea.
On the 4th of October, an express arrived at King William’s Town, containing the information, that the division under Colonel Somerset had captured one thousand head of cattle, and a number of horses and goats, at a sweep, and had killed eight of the enemy. The division under Colonel Campbell had also been successful in capturing cattle among the Gaikas, as well as some horses, and in killing some twenty of the enemy, and laying waste his country. The detachment of the 45th, under Major Hind, did good service with Colonel Campbell’s column; and afterwards accompanied the head-quarter division to the Kei, together with two companies of the Reserve Battalion of the 91st, under Captain Scott and Colonel Campbell, with Lieutenants Dixon and Metcalfe.
The same work went on, from day to day. Now, our troops captured cattle from the Gaikas, who, it was ascertained, were a good deal disorganised (Macomo foretold this, saying “they could not fight when he was gone”); and now Páto’s I’Slambies slipped away with the oxen pastured near our camps and bivouacs. The rains poured on, and the troops, though healthy, suffered from the unusual cold. There was nothing to be done with the enemy but to worry him; which was attended with dreadful harass to us.
As was conjectured, by those who knew the character of the Gaikas, Sandilla and his people had not entirely abandoned the Amatolas; the Chief had secreted himself in one of the deep valleys of those mountains, near a stream called by the Kaffirs, the “Wolf’s River.” The nature of the ground secured him from the approach of cavalry, but it was just the place for the operations of the Rifle Brigade. Sir George Berkeley’s plan of patrolling the country, and falling back on camps well stored with provisions, in the very neighbourhood of Sandilla, soon drove the rebel Chief from his haunts. Abandoned by many of his people, his crops destroyed, his dwelling burned, his cattle scattered among those he could not trust, and deprived of Macomo’s support, he found himself constantly exposed to the fire of our troops, and at one time, it is said, he dared not venture to slake his thirst at the stream for four-and-twenty hours. Thus worn out, without the slightest advantage to himself or his nation, he resolved on surrendering; and, sending to King William’s Town a message to the effect that “he was driven to this step by the prospect of starvation,” some bread and meat were forwarded to him by his envoys; and, on the 19th of October, the troops in the camp, commanded by Colonel Buller, Rifle Brigade, looked anxiously, through the mists of a stormy day, for the expected prisoner. He came at last, followed by eighty of his people; and, after an interview with Colonel Buller, “an escort of dragoons, which had been in readiness,” was ordered to accompany Captain Bisset, Cape Mounted Rifles, and Lieutenant Petre, 7th Dragoon Guards, with the captive Chief, and the necessary dispatches from the Lieutenant-General commanding, to Sir Henry Pottinger. Captain Bisset, on that day, the 20th of October, rode 120 miles.
Sandilla admitted that he had been nearly taken by a patrol of the Rifle Brigade, acting with Colonel Somerset’s division, on the 12th of October. The party had lost their way while skirmishing; but for this, he must have surrendered to them, or been shot. He afterwards told Colonel Campbell, 91st, that on one occasion they had been within 1200 feet of each other, the Chief watching Colonel Campbell from the bush. When passing, as a prisoner, near the camp of this officer, Sandilla stopped his horse, and, calling to the former “My friend, my friend, come hither!” begged to shake hands with him. Colonel Campbell’s good advice to the misguided Gaika had been unheeded, and the latter now acknowledged the truth of what the Colonel had told him, that “it was madness to fight with the white man, who would not be conquered, even though the war were to last for ever.”
In the announcement by Sir Henry Pottinger, that the surrender of Sandilla had taken place, His Excellency the High Commissioner records “the high sense he entertains of the zeal and energy with which the operations against Sandilla had been carried on under the Lieutenant-General’s guidance, in which operations the troops and levies have been subjected to great hardships, and exposed to unusually inclement weather.”
Immediately after the surrender of Sandilla, Colonel Somerset planned his forward movement towards the Kei, with a force upwards of 1200 strong, including cavalry, infantry, and levies. The country beyond the Kei was known to be swarming with cattle.
On the 30th of October the troops made a night march of thirty miles towards the Kei, and, on the morning of the 31st, reached a stream called Chechabe. On the heights above this little river, the Kaffirs were seen gathering in great numbers, and at last took up a very strong position, evidently determined to make a stand against the British force. The latter was soon disposed in battle array in front of the enemy, with flankers thrown out, supports in the rear, and the reserve under Captain Bentinck, 7th Dragoon Guards. The Cape Mounted Rifles, led by Captain O’Reilly, advanced up the face of the hill, the enemy, as usual, screening himself, while the troops moved slowly but steadily onwards, under the incessant fire of the Kaffirs, until within eighty yards of them, when, the bugle sounding the gallop, the “Totties” cheered, and entered the bush in gallant style. In twenty minutes, the savages were dislodged, and driven over a hill into a ravine below, leaving behind them arms, karosses, and several horses. Seventeen of them were counted dead after the engagement; many had been borne off, and the rocks over winch they had been dragged were streaming with blood. In this affair, our troops sustained but two casualties.