By Veldt and Kopje

by W. C. Scully

“Throughout the night we could hear no sound except now and then hootings and cries like those of owls and night-jars. These were the signals which the enemy made to each other. Just before daybreak they made an attempt to break through the ring, but we drove them back; not more than five or six managed to escape. We had expected this attempt, and word had been sent round by the leader that should it take place the grass was to be fired. Within a few minutes the ridge was ringed with flame. The season was late summer, but the land was dry and the grass fit for burning. Not a breath of wind was stirring, so the ring of fire burnt slowly, and we closed in behind it as the ground became cool enough for our feet to bear it.

“Day was breaking when the fire reached long grass and brambles just beneath the summit among which the Bushmen lay concealed. Then they sprang out like monkeys from a cornfield when the dogs are let loose, and climbed to a bare mass of stone which topped the ridge. We rushed in at them through the flame, and they met us with a shower of arrows. It was a hard, bitter fight, but when the sun arose not a Bushman was left alive. The women, and even the little children, fought as bravely as the men, and bit our feet as we trod over them in the struggle thinking they were dead. Not one uttered a cry, even in the death agony. Thirty-four of our men were struck down by the poisoned arrows, and of these more than half died in torment.

“Bangeni had fallen under suspicion of being in some way leagued with the Bushmen, on account of his property not having been carried off. He was too old a man to be expected to fight, so was not with the attacking force. As our men passed his dwelling on their way to the attack they had shouted threats as to what would be done to him after ‘his friends,’ as they called the Bushmen, had been reckoned with. However, he now came forward with his medicines, and it was only the men whom he treated that recovered from their wounds. Therefore he was once more received into favour.

“After this slaughter we had peace, and for several years not a Bushman was seen anywhere near the Didima, although it was known that many still existed in the great mountain beyond it. Bangeni still dwelt at the old spot, and I continued to visit his kraal and meet Nongala. Nathaniel’s grandmother became jealous, and I was compelled to break several more sticks upon her back. She often ran home, and I was glad to be rid of her, but her father always sent her back lest he should have to return the dowry cattle. Eventually I sent my brother, with three oxen, to Bangeni to ask for Nongala as my second wife, and it was arranged that I should marry her at the coming time of green corn.

“One day in autumn, after the plough rains had fallen, I, with seventeen of my friends, went to hunt a troop of elands which were reported to have newly come to the top of the Katberg. We all brought our best dogs, and I had arranged through Bangeni with the Bushmen that they should help us to drive the game into a deep valley with a narrow pass at one end, where we could lie in ambush. This valley was some distance away, in the direction of the great mountain where the wild men, as we well knew, dwelt in large numbers. But we were young and had no fear. I thought that on account of my friendship with Bangeni none of the Bushmen would harm me, and that my companions would be safe as well. Besides, the suggestion towards this hunt came from the Bushmen themselves.

“We found the game and drove it into the valley. When we arrived there, exhausted and out of breath, we found the bewildered herd huddled together in a rocky hollow, whilst around its sides stood a ring of the little people. Then we rushed in, and before the sun sank five of the elands lay dead. The rest broke through the circle and escaped, whilst we threw ourselves to the ground and lay there, panting.

“Two of the elands had fallen close together, within a few paces of a stream of water, and the others lay at different spots, none of which were more than a hundred paces away. We seventeen collected together where the two elands lay, and in a few minutes found ourselves surrounded by those who had driven the game for us. At first we suspected no treachery, but all at once we found that each of us had several poisoned arrows pointed at him, and that the notch of every arrow rested against the string of a drawn bow. Then we saw how we had been tricked; these people had enticed us thus far from our friends for the purpose of getting us into their power.

“One Bushman, who could speak our language, came forward, and with him we held a parley. They did not, he said, want to kill us but to hold us at ransom. What they wanted was cattle, and for cattle our Chief might buy our lives. To prove this they were willing to allow one of our number to go with a message to Makomo, stating their terms. At this we felt much relieved; some of our party were related to Makomo, and we knew that the cattle would be sent.

“But we had not heard all, and what followed made us burn with rage. We were required to give up our arms and then to submit to being bound, hand and foot. At first we angrily refused to do this, saying that we would rather die fighting than undergo such disgrace; but when we looked at the bent bows and the arrows, each drawn back to the poison-smeared point, we felt as though hooded snakes surrounded us, poised to strike if we so much as moved hand or foot. We had seen the pain of those who died of their wounds after the fight, and we remembered how brave men had wept like women, begging of us to kill them as their blood had turned to fire. Death by spear or club we could have faced, but the thought of slowly dying from the snake-poison of the arrows made our hearts like the hearts of little children, so we yielded. One by one we cast our weapons to the ground and stepped forth to where they bound us with thongs. Each of us had his knees and ankles tied together and his hands fastened behind his back.

“Our weapons were collected into a heap; our dogs were caught and tied to the bushes near the stream, and then our messenger, a man named Goloza, was allowed to go free. He was told to be back with the cattle by noon on the following day, and warned that if more than five men accompanied him we would be killed as soon as their approach was signalled.