The soldiers were very much amused yesterday with me, when cross-questioning one of the Hottentot deserters. I asked his name, which was—what do you think?—Henri Smith! By Jupiter, how the fellows laughed! However, I had my jaw too by saying, “All Smiths are sharp, active-looking fellows, and so is our deserter rascal.”
I am glad to see those rogues leave the Kafirs. Nothing disheartens the brutes so much as the supposition that you know what they are doing. They will, on account of it—we are given to understand—change their plans even. It is just so with a wild beast (you were a sportswoman once, you know, dearest). Head a wolf, fox, hare, any bête de chasse, and it will change its whole plan of escape immediately. So it is with the Kafir.
10 o’clock, 20th April.
Somerset’s division, or rather the débris of it, has just arrived in twos and threes, forty times worse than the army of Burgos was in the pig-shooting days which you witnessed. This is the way in which it has marched these three days. To-morrow His Excellency inspects this division (what a name for it!), and I will answer for it we will still muster a few horses fit to do something.
23rd April, daylight.
My fifty Fingoes just coming in like Trojans. I have ordered each 3 pounds of meat. Upon my word, I never saw anything so fine as my fifty Fingoes, all with their assagais and their shields, and singing as they marched along, all aroused as if the blood of their forefathers was flowing through their veins, when their nation was independent and important amongst the other savages. They then gave me a war-whoop, and jumped, and then sang again most melodiously in a deep sonorous voice, with a most harmonious bass. Nothing villainous in their countenances, but full of heroism and fine feeling.
9 at night.—Oh, such a Johnny Raw as old John Bell sent up to us to-day, young ——! The General did not know what the devil to do with him, and sent for me. I soon appointed him a Volunteer to the 1st Provisional Battalion, and as he had neither tea, sugar, coffee, nor brandy, he was a pleasant fellow to join a half-starved officers’ mess. I set him up with 2 lbs. tea, 4 lbs. sugar, 4 lbs. coffee, and a canteen of brandy, with this good advice: “Be broad awake, sir, and learn to speak quick.” I was very near telling him to get his hair cut. Tell dear old John to send us no more such trash.
Bivouac on the T’solo, a small stream running into the T’somo,
which runs into the Kei, 30th April, 1835.
Viva Enrique!
Mi Queridissima Muger,