The Hottentot drivers inspanned the bullocks, and I repeated “Forward!” in a tone that seemed strange even to myself, so authoritative and full of energy did it sound in my own ear. All obeyed, and we started on the march; scarcely, however, had we entered the bush before a shot was fired. I saw from the smoke where the discharge came from, so, riding to the spot, inquired who had fired. Sergeant Waine came to the front and said he had. I reminded him of the order which had been given that no firing was to take place under any consideration, unless I or Lieutenant Pilkington gave the command. He muttered something unintelligible in reply; and I repeated the order aloud, to be heard by all around, that if any man discharged a firelock without orders I would have him punished as severely as the circumstances allowed. I then rode on again towards the head of the column, when another shot was fired, and this time the bullet came whistling very close to my head. On looking round I saw that the shot was fired from the same spot again, around which the men were now gathered in a cluster. I felt that the crisis had come, so loosening my pistol in the holster-pipe (an Adams’ revolver, one of the first made), I rode back and asked who fired. Waine replied he did. “Who gave the order?” said I. “A magpie,” he answered. I called out for Sergeant-major Herridge, the late police officer, who had quite recovered, and had become a most efficient subordinate. “Take Waine’s firelock from him,” I said. This was quickly done. “Now tie him up to that gun-carriage and give him three dozen.” Waine bawled out to the men, and asked whether they would see him flogged like a nigger. Before they could reply I drove my horse amidst them, revolver in hand, and cried out that the first man who opened his mouth, or moved, I would blow his brains out, at the same time pointing the muzzle to some of their heads, as I saw they were more or less inclined to disobey my injunctions. Sergeant Herridge was a powerful man, and Waine was soon tied up; but there being no “cat” to flog him with, I ordered it to be done with his belt. And well was it laid on. The fellow bellowed lustily, and I asked the men what they thought of such a blubbering cur. Happy Jack now began to cry “Shame.” I rode him down, and as he scrambled from between my horse’s legs in an awful state of funk, some of the men laughed outright, and he got no more openly-shown sympathy than his comrade Waine. After the flogging was over I told Herridge to give back to Waine his leather jacket. The ruffian said, “You will give me my jacket, but why don’t you give me my firelock?” “Give him that also,” said I. On getting it he began loading, and looking at me in a most significant manner. When he came to put the cap on the nipple, either from the numbing pain of the flogging, or from the violence with which Herridge had pulled off his pouch, he could not find a cap. I offered him one—it was only a pistol cap (but I did not think of that at the time); when he looked at me, threw down his firelock, and said, “No, I won’t shoot you.” Seeing this sign in my favour, I began to explain to the men that no one had a greater horror, of flogging than I had, and that I never would have had it done had it not been to punish a cowardly villain who had attempted to shoot me from behind. If any of them had a complaint to make, let them come to me, face to face, and explain, and they never would find me unwilling to listen, or to redress any just grievance. Waine was then placed on a gun-carriage alongside of Happy Jack, and we once more started on our march. From that day my orders were obeyed, and matters assumed a more orderly aspect.
On fording Sunday River, which runs through the Ada bush, the whole column nearly came to grief. All due precautions had, however, been taken as though passing through an enemy’s country, lining both sides of the ford—an advanced-guard and a rear-guard. But notwithstanding orders, some of the men had strolled down the banks of the river in order to find a favourable spot to bathe. While thus proceeding, some marauding Fingoes were espied; a cry arose that the Kaffirs were coming, a stampede ensued, and my men bolted like rabbits into the bush. The Hottentot drivers cut the traces of their oxen, disappearing with their cattle, and I was left alone with the waggons in the middle of the river, with five or six men whom I had managed to keep together—my anxiety barely sufficing to retain my laughter at the ridiculous disappearance of the whole party.
The Fingoes, however, were as much frightened as my men had been, and ran away in the opposite direction; so when my fellows had been sufficiently scratched and blown by making their way through the prickly underwood, unmolested by all except their own fears (and the thorns), they soon retraced their footsteps, and could be seen in twos and threes peeping from the outskirts of the jungle to know whether the coast had become clear. On getting them together again, I made a speech, and so enlarged upon their ridiculously discreditable behaviour, that they swore, one and all, that they would never so commit themselves again. To put their courage to the test, I determined to encamp that night where this occurred—in the middle of the bush. This was rather hazardous; but I counted upon the danger of Fingo marauders to keep them together, and in my own bold attitude to keep the latter off.
My position was a strange one; and as I lay that night upon a gun-carriage, having for companions Waine moaning over the pains in his back, and Happy Jack muttering threats of courts-martial, I thought, if Providence did not intervene, the thread of my existence would possibly snap somehow.
The night passed off calmly enough, and the next morning saw us safely on the other side of the bush; and that evening we encamped at a farm belonging to Mr Bruckyer, a Dutch settler from Haarlem—which town, by the way, was the home of my forefathers in King William III.’s reign; therefore, being somewhat akin through ancestral associations, we soon became good friends. This gentleman not only furnished my corps with an abundance of farm produce—accepting only our thanks in return—but also took charge of seven men who were incapable, from illness and sore feet, of continuing with the column. These men were afterwards sent on in a waggon to Fort Beaufort, some hundred and twenty miles off, to rejoin the corps. Mr Bruckyer again refused all remuneration.
CHAPTER V.
THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH SETTLERS—FIRST TRIAL OF THE MINIE AT THE CAPE—I PART WITH HAPPY JACK—MARCH INTO GRAHAM’S TOWN—THE OFFICERS OF THE CORPS—COLONEL CLOËTE—SHORTCOMINGS OF THE SERVICE—THE COMMISSARIAT ORDERED TO FORT BEAUFORT—ARRIVE AT HEADQUARTERS.
As a rule, I found the settlers—English and Dutch—a fine, generous-hearted set of people; and many of them who read these lines may, I hope, think with pleasure of the happy times we passed together.
It was a great relief to get rid of my sick men, as I had no medical man with the corps; and the only medicines or pharmaceutical knowledge I possessed were gleaned from a small medicine-chest I had purchased at Port Elizabeth. It was one of the ceaseless threats of Happy Jack that I had had a man flogged without a medical man being present, and without having remedies at hand in case of accident.
The next day we proceeded to Mr Judd’s farm, some ten miles farther on the road. Here I had an opportunity of showing what the Minie rifle could perform. We were sitting under the veranda of Mr Judd’s house examining one of the men’s rifles, and I was explaining the advantage of a rapid twist with an elongated bullet having an expansive base, &c. Mr Judd asked if it would reach some bullocks which were grazing five or six hundred yards off, adding that I might try if I liked, for the cattle were his. To this I consented; and laying the rifle on the balcony as a rest, I singled out a bullock to his attention—fired. I had the satisfaction that, either from the whistling of the ball or from being actually struck, the mark had been attained, for the animal immediately started off at a trot. All doubts, however, soon came to an end; for the poor brute lay down, and before we could reach the spot, had died,—the ball had passed through its body. This, no doubt, was a great fluke; but it had the good result of proving the value of the weapon to the men (a great many were looking on while I fired), and also leading them to suppose I was a first-rate shot.