"We all feared this man, and no one ever went to his kraal unless for medicine. Over and over again have I pa.s.sed it when returning from hunting, but no matter how tired or thirsty I was I would never stop.
"One day, being alone in the forest, I found a young girl sleeping. She had a beautiful face, and a bosom like that of a partridge when the millet is ripe in the fields. She arose when I approached, but did not show the least alarm. We sat together and talked from noon until the sun had nearly sunk. She was the daughter of Bangeni, and her name was Nongala. She spoke of sensible things in a low, soft voice. When we parted I already wished that my father had paid dowry for her instead of for the other one--Nathaniel"s grandmother.
"After that day I never pa.s.sed Bangeni"s dwelling without calling.
Nathaniel"s grandmother got to hear of the girl, and I had to break several sticks upon her before she left off troubling. You know Nathaniel? Well, he is just like what she was.
"As I grew older I hunted more and more. My father was rich, and I was his "great son," so, whenever I heard of a good dog I used to try and buy it. We had no guns, but we were expert with the a.s.segai, and besides we used to drive the game into stalked pits. _Mawo_, but these were great days. In the valley, where the buffaloes used to crash through the forest with my dogs baying behind, the Hottentots now grow tobacco. And I am an old, old man without a single cow, and my Chief is dead, and Nathaniel says I am going to the pit to burn in this new kind of fire.
"The mischief committed by the Bushmen at length became so bad that the people could stand it no longer, so Makomo called out an army for the purpose of clearing the mountains of these vermin. The occasion was that they had one day killed six herd-boys and driven a large troop of cattle off. Then Makomo saw that if he wished to hold the country any longer he must destroy the Bushmen.
"Every man who could wield an a.s.segai was called out, and the army was doctored on the night of the new moon. Next morning we went forth in three divisions, one of which held the level plateau which connects the Katberg Range with the great mountains farther back, and so cut off the retreat of the enemy. Another division went to the east of the Katberg and the third to the west of the Didima; then the three bodies moved towards each other in open order.
"The Bushmen retired without fighting when they saw how strong we were, and when they found their retreat cut off from the great mountain they took refuge in the caves and chasms of a high ridge which stood apart near the southern end of the plateau. We were joyful when we knew that at length we had the murderers where our hands could reach them.
"It was nearly nightfall when we formed in a ring around the rocks and scrubby bushes amidst which they lay, and our numbers were so great that no man was more than four paces from his companions on either side.
Each carried a shield wherewith to ward off the poisoned arrows. For a long time it had been known that this attack must, some day, take place, and every man had been ordered to provide himself with a strong shield of ox-hide.
"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 gra.s.s 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 gra.s.s 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 gra.s.s 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 ma.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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.
"After this the Bushmen lit fires and began to feast upon the game we had killed. They made merry around the carcases, eating such a quant.i.ty of meat that their bodies swelled until they looked like ticks on the dewlap of a cow in summer. In the early stages of the feasting they sang and danced, and then they played a curious game, in which some pretended to kill others, who, in their turn, pretended to be slain. We could hear from the noises around the other fires that similar feasting and dancing was going on at each carcase.
"Our throats felt as though filled with hot ashes, for we had sweated much in the chase, but though we begged for water they would not give us a drop. My heart seems even now to grow cold when I think of all that happened during that night. Our bonds were tightly drawn and galled us sorely, but our captors laughed at and taunted us when we prayed for relief.
"After they had feasted and danced through half the night, the Bushmen came and sat close to us, and some who happened to be able to speak our language began to converse with us. What they said made us lose all hope and wish for a speedy death to put us out of our pain. It appeared that their sending Goloza with the message was but a device for the purpose of getting cattle, and that they meant to kill us in any case.
Their craft was such that they kept us alive in the event of Makomo sending messengers ahead for the purpose of ascertaining that we were still alive before delivering the ransom cattle. They intended to kill us as well as the messengers as soon as the cattle were in their possession. This was to be their revenge for the slaughter we had inflicted upon their friends and relatives.
"We begged hard for our lives, offering large herds of cattle if our captors would let us send one of our number to collect from our kraals.
We wept and moaned as we begged for mercy, but the more pitifully we pleaded the more they laughed and jeered at us. After we had amused them sufficiently thus, they returned to their feasting. Then, after placing two of their number to watch us, they fell fast asleep.
"Now a Bushman, when really full of meat, must needs sleep, and then he is like a gorged vulture, for nothing will wake him until he has digested the food. If disturbed he will only sprawl about like a drunken man, and roll his eyes like a child a week old. Soon the two watchers slept too, and then the fire died down, and we lay suffering in the darkness. There was no sound except our own groans, the snoring of the Bushmen, who had sunk back, each at the place where he had been sitting, and lay huddled upon the ground, and the murmuring of the stream of water.
"We strove and struggled with our bonds, but they were too cunningly tied for this to be of any avail, so we only put ourselves to greater pain. The plashing of the cool water over the stones only a few yards off maddened us, and we tried to roll towards it, but a barrier of sharp rocks stood in the way, and this we found it impossible to cross. The jackals came up and began to gnaw the bones around the fireplace; they stepped fearlessly in among the sleepers, as though quite accustomed to so doing.
"We lay thus until it was nearly day. Then I heard a soft voice speak my name. I answered in a whisper, and in a moment Nongala was bending over me, cutting my bonds with a sharp knife.
"I was so stiff that for a while I could hardly move a limb. Nongala went to the others, one by one, and released them as well. After a few minutes our clogged blood began to move once more, and then, suddenly, we seemed to recover our strength. The first thing we did was to recover our weapons.
"Then we went softly to and fro among the sleepers and took possession of their bows and arrows. The reed shafts of the latter we broke, and then we flung them, like snakes with broken backs, in a heap upon the embers. In a short time the heap blazed brightly up, and then we went to work at our vengeance.
"The sleepers lay close together, and we made a ring about them, so that none might escape. But this was not necessary; they were so gorged that not one awakened, even when the spear was at his throat. One by one we slew them as they lay. Then, with one accord, we went to the stream we had been listening to throughout the long night of pain, and drank our fill. But our work was not yet done.
"Around the bones of each of the other three elands--for it proved that not a sc.r.a.p of meat was left--lay a party of surfeited sleepers, and those we slew as we had slain the others. It was horrible work, but the gall of black anger had risen to our hearts, and we knew that these people had doomed us to a miserable death.
"Day broke just as we had finished the killing, so we struck for home across the mountains. We met Goloza, accompanied by five other men, bringing the cattle for our ransom; they turned back and accompanied us to Makomo"s Great Place--for we went at once to make report of what had happened to the Chief. The war-cry had gone out and men were already a.s.sembling. It had been intended to pursue the Bushmen and recover the ransom cattle. There was great astonishment when we related what we had done, and the disgrace of having allowed ourselves to be disarmed and tied up like dogs was regarded as having been wiped out by the blood we had shed.
"You may be sure that Nongala came in for her share of honour. A song, which was sung at every feast for years afterwards, was composed to commemorate the exploit. She became so celebrated that a rumour went forth that Makomo intended to add her to the number of his wives. My own idea is that the grandmother of Nathaniel caused the thing to be talked about through jealousy. I do not know if such be the case, or if the Chief had any such intention, but to avoid the danger Nongala and I ran away together one night and took refuge with the Chief of the Gaika tribe, who received us kindly, feeling that it was to his honour to have such celebrated people under his protection. Three years afterwards I returned to my own country and Makomo received me kindly.
"For my own part, I have always felt ashamed of having surrendered my weapons and allowed myself to be tied up--to say nothing of having wept like a little boy, and beseeched for my life--than proud of the killing.
I do not think that until to-day anyone has ever told the whole truth about this matter. Often, when I have heard some of the others at a beer-drink boasting of what they have done, I have walked away or hidden my face in my kaross lest the truth should be revealed by my looks. But all the others are now dead, and I am an old man, so what does it matter?
"Yes, I am an old man, and the sooner I am dead the better. The valleys in which I hunted in the days of my youth are full of the Hottentots to whom the Government gave the land, and I doubt if you would find an "iputi" in the Didima Forest.
"Men can say what they like, but the world is not so good to live in now as it was in the days when I was young. Where has the rain gone to? It has not rained as it used to rain when Makomo was Chief since the Hottentots were given the country.
"Well, it may be as you say, but if Government were to drive the Hottentots out and give back the land to Makomo"s son, I think you would find that the rain would fall again as it used to. But I am an old man, and my kraal is empty. Yes, I have lived too long."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A FORGOTTEN EXPEDITION.
In the early winter of 1874 considerable excitement prevailed in the little mining camp of Pilgrim"s Rest. The Transvaal Government (Mr Burgers being President) was reported to be organising an expedition to Delagoa Bay for the purpose of convoying certain arms and ammunition thence to Pretoria. It had been for some time an open secret that an attack was projected upon Seccocoeni, chief of the Bapedi, who had refused to pay hut-tax. The attack was made in due course, and failed, but that has nothing to do with this story.
The war material in question had, with the exception of ten tons of gunpowder purchased from the firm of Pigou and Wilkes, been presented to the Republic by the German Government. It was part of the loot of the Franco-German war.
Delagoa Bay had a bad name. The previous year was a very fatal one in the "low country." Out of thirty-five men who went to prospect, to hunt or to amuse themselves between the mountains and the sea in the early part of 1873, twenty-seven died of fever. They had gone too early, and the rains were late. But the seasons were not known so well in the seventies as they are now.
Twenty-five men were wanted, and, among the floating population of the reckless and the restless who are always attracted by an alluvial gold-field, these were not difficult to obtain. Accordingly, in the early days of June the expedition started under the command of Major McDonald (late of the United States" Army), who held the office of Gold Commissioner. The convoy included eight wagons and sixteen spans of oxen. The country of the tsetse fly had to be traversed; but, unless rain falls, cattle generally live for six weeks or so after being bitten, and it was intended to run the goods through before the oxen succ.u.mbed.
We were a various sort of crew, most nations, trades and characters being represented in our meagre ranks. I was the boy of the party, and consequently had a very rough time. My worst tormentor was a powerful brute named Collins; my best protector a herculean and splendidly handsome Highlander from Skye, named Macpherson, who earned my deathless grat.i.tude by thrashing Collins severely. When sober, "Mac" was always my good friend; when otherwise he was wont to use me despitefully.
Occasionally, when under the influence of Mauritius rum, he would seize me by the heels and swing me round his head.
We pa.s.sed over the steep and ma.s.sive mountain range into the mysterious haze-shrouded country which, without any break save the low Lebombo Range, stretches evenly to the mangrove-c.u.mbered coast. After trekking through the undulating foothills our course led across a dead level spa.r.s.ely timbered and densely covered with thick, wiry gra.s.s. The trees usually permitted a vista of about two hundred yards, at the farther end of which one could often see the wild forest creatures melting into the gloom.