Shangani Patrol—Return March

20th September to 1st October

We try to reach the Shangani, but fail—Reduced to Horseflesh—Our Difficulties—Searching for Water—Gielgud volunteers to bring Assistance—We find Water—The Shangani at last—The Doings of our other Patrols—Lions everywhere—My Column, reunited, moves towards Inyati—We capture some Rebel Koppies and Caves—A Funeral by Night—Our Enemy thinks Discretion the better part of Valour, and surrenders—A new Expedition organised—We drink Her Majesty’s Health.

20th September.—Woke up this morning much refreshed, after a good rest all yesterday and last night. Owing to the amount of lions’ spoor about the place, we kept fires going all night as a precaution against them.

This morning we marched at five, after destroying large numbers of old scherms which had been occupied by the enemy, and we followed the course of the river for some miles, intending then to strike across country and make a short cut to the Shangani, as all maps, though differing in other details, showed this to be possible. However, we did not find it possible. We struck boldly out into the forest, and marched along at our best speed, which was not very great. Gradually, the heat of the day began to affect the horses; again, we were on foot leading and driving them through the heavy sand; but after going about six miles, we saw it would be impossible to reach the Shangani that day. We had already abandoned two horses, and several others seemed quite done up; our only chance now was to hark back to the Gwelo. Another unpleasant item had been added to our experiences this morning, and that was the finding of several carcasses of koodoo which had evidently died from rinderpest, so that there was little hope of our getting any fresh meat by shooting game in this district. I therefore gave orders that one of the horses should be shot, cut up, and issued as rations for the men, and it was quite a cheering sight to see the squadron butcher get to work in a professional way on that horse, and to hear him sing out when all was ready, “Now, boys, roll up for your rations.”

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I now wrote a note to the officer in command of the waggons, telling him that we should make our way to the Shangani, and should proceed along its bank towards him, but that, being short of food, we should hope for him to send a few pack–horses with fresh supplies to meet us. Then, loading up the two native guides with as much horseflesh as they could carry, and filling up a tin biscuit–box with water from our water–bottles for them, we sent them off, taking their direction by the sun, to find the waggons and deliver the note. Then we ourselves turned again and made our way back to the Gwelo, and there halted for our midday meal and rest. This was our menu: weak tea (can’t afford it strong), no sugar (we are out of it), a little bread (we have half a pound a day), Irish stew (consisting of slab of horse boiled in muddy water with a pinch of rice and half a pinch of pea–flour), salt, none. For a plate I use one of my gaiters: it is marked “Tautz & Sons, No. 3031”; it is a far cry from veldt and horseflesh to Tautz and Oxford Street!

Our great difficulty is topographical information. Our two prisoners, whom we had now sent away, had been worse than useless as guides, because they had no idea of distance; our two maps differ widely as to the relative positions of the two rivers, and our view of the country is limited in all directions by bush. The natives, before they left us, told us that if we kept along the bank of the Gwelo until we came to a path turning off southwards at the foot of a tall fruit tree, it would bring us in a very short walk to the Shangani River, and we hope to strike that path to–night. We are all right so long as nobody gets sick or wounded, if we manage to get a tussle with the niggers (and I am in great hopes that when we strike the path, we may just drop on to them coming up it). Another difficulty is that our messengers may not prove faithful in taking our note to the waggons. Nothing like looking at the cheery side of things!

In the evening, we moved on again along the bank of the Gwelo, and soon after sunset we came across a path leading southwards from the river, and near the path was a tall palm tree, which we took to be the tall fruit tree spoken of by our two natives. This path was to take us in a very few miles to the Shangani, so, after supping at this spot, we started with light hearts to follow the track as it turned deep into the forest again. Every man was now walking, and either leading or driving his horse, and as we formed a long single string in the narrow path, our progress was extremely slow. On and on till past midnight, and by one in the morning we reckoned we had done about eight miles; but we ought, according to our guide’s report, to have struck the Shangani long ere this. But no Shangani nor any sign of it was in sight; so, calling a halt, I told Poore to rest the men and horses, while Gielgud—who was an old American scout—and I went on ahead, to see if we could find the river within a reasonable distance.

We two were mounted on ponies, which seem to stand the hard work far better than the horses of the hussars, and having bright moonlight to show us the track, we pressed along at a fairly good pace. The sameness of the forest scenery was very tiring and very depressing, and we only longed to come upon the enemy, or for them to come upon us, to give a little variety to the monotony.

On and on we went, until we calculated we had done another nine miles, but never a sign of water. The moon was then getting low, and we agreed the only thing to be done was to turn back while there was yet sufficient light to see the track to rejoin the patrol, and to turn them back once more for a second time to the Gwelo River. My idea, then, was that one of us should take the two best horses and ride for the direction of the waggons to try and get help, while the patrol should keep along the river bank, so as to be sure of its water, and simply live on horse until relieved. Gielgud very kindly volunteered to make the attempt to ride for the waggons. We had not gone very far on our way back towards the patrol, when the moon went down, and left us in the dark; but it only wanted a quarter of an hour to dawn, so we made a fire, and boiled our cocoa, in the course of which operation I fell fast asleep.

21st September.—As the dawn came on, I climbed a neighbouring tree and looked all round to see if there were any signs of the river, but nothing but an unbroken line of tree–tops met my gaze.

As I was coming down from the tree, a jingling in the bush a short distance away attracted my attention, and there, to my horror, I saw the whole of my patrol had followed after us. This settled the question of whether to go forward or to go back; we must now press forward, even if it meant losing horses.

Again halting the party to give them a rest, Gielgud and I resolved to make one more effort to find water, not by going on along the path, but by striking off to one side where the ground appeared to slope downwards. It was heart–breaking work: every rise seemed to promise a valley on the other side, but we only topped it to find an ordinary dry, baked, grass valley beyond. After going some miles without success we sorrowfully allowed that no more could be done; our ponies were getting fagged out, and we must try and get back to the patrol, with every prospect of having a bad day pushing on for water.

Poor Gielgud was now asleep on his horse. I was leading the way back, and his horse following mine wearily, when I chanced to notice on the ground the place where a buck had been scratching in the sand; I thought to myself that he would not scratch there for nothing, so, dismounting, I continued the scratching with my hand, and after digging for some little time, I came to damp ground, and a little deeper the water began to ooze in. Then I saw two pigeons fly up from behind a rock a short distance from me, and, going there, I found a little pool of water. You may guess how much we were relieved; it reversed the whole of the dilemma. An hour later we had got the party off–saddled there, watered and camped for the day, and here I am under my blanket shelter, scorching hot day, flies innumerable stopping all our efforts to sleep, and the prospect of another night march before us, which we sincerely hope will bring us out of this beastly forest to the river. We have now got only one pound of bread left for each man, a little tea, a spoonful of rice, and plenty of horseflesh; no salt, sugar, or coffee—these luxuries are past; and we expect nothing more for the next three days. Yet the men are singing and chaffing away as cheerfully as possible while they scoop the muddy water from the sand–hole for their tea.

I am mounting Gielgud and Corporal Spicer of the 7th on my ponies, and they are going to start to ride for the waggons as soon as the heat of the clay is over. I shall not leave the men myself, but shall probably have to walk on foot; this I would not mind but my boots are already very holey, and only the ankles of my socks remain, the feet have become most delicate lace.

At 4 p. m. we again moved on, having bid good–bye to Gielgud and his man, who have gone on ahead. Gielgud is a fine young fellow, Native Commissioner by occupation, American by birth, cowboy by education, and gentleman by nature.

We held on steadily to the south and eastward till long after dark, and again a brilliant moon helped us on our way. In fact, we do far more marching by night than by daytime. At last a halt was called, because two more horses had given out, and we had to transfer their saddles to other horses, which in some cases were already carrying two or three saddles on their backs, for we may as well try to save what Government property we can. I took the opportunity of this halt to go forward again to look for water, and I was not out of sound of the men’s voices when I came on the wide expanse of river bed lying in the moonlight before me. I was glad. All my anxiety was now over. We camped then and there on a tree–shaded, rocky knoll overlooking the river. Poore and I have a splendid log fire between us. I boiled up my last spoonful of cocoa, which I had been husbanding for a great occasion like this, and after a nugget of rock–like bread and a fid of horse, I am going to bed WITH MY BOOTS OFF! I do not care for Matabele now; I am going to try for a good sleep, and I will “see that I get it.”

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22nd September.—We had what in India would be called “a Europe morning,” that is to say, we lay in bed longer than usual by half an hour, and did not get up till five. Then we marched for two hours along the Shangani; we were now out of the forest, but in pretty thick thorn–bush country. We now kept a good look–out for the enemy, hoping to catch them about the river, and patrolled into all likely–looking country on both sides of the river, as this was a part of the country in which Forbes’s column in ‘93 met with several attacks from the enemy on their way back after the Shangani disaster. But we could not even find a sign of the rebels, although we saw what was also very interesting, and that was the spoor of lion. I had taken a patrol of three men across the river to examine some bush, and in coming back on to the river bank, one of my men cried out, “There is a lion!” and sure enough there was a fine great dark–coloured lion strolling along on a small island in the middle of the river bed, about a hundred yards away. I thought he would like to have some notice taken of him, so jumped off my horse to salute him, and the corporal with me did the same, and we both fired almost simultaneously. One bullet struck the ground under him and the other struck him in the ribs, rather far back, as for a moment he sank on his haunches, and then sprang forward among some rocks and was immediately lost to sight. I put my hussars up on different rocks to keep a look–out for him, and the main body of the patrol on the other bank of the river kept the look–out there, and I went down among the rocks of the river bed to look for him, but could not find him. Poore joined me there, and also his sergeant–major, and the farrier, who came armed with a revolver only. But though we searched every corner of the rocks, we never saw the beast again. But we heard of him, for later on, when I resumed the search in the afternoon, one of the men whom I had posted on the look–out asked how many lions I expected to find there, as the one I had shot at in the morning had gone away up the river dragging his hind–quarters after him. The man had supposed that I saw him too, and so said nothing!

We killed another horse to–day, and I took in my belt another hole. I seldom measured less round the waist than I do now.

Had a delicious bathe in the river. The only drawback to bathing is the difficulty of getting back into one’s soleless socks again; next time I bathe I shall not take them off, but will bathe in them.

The river is a big sandy bed with piles and ledges of grey granite rock, low banks covered with thorn jungle, occasional pools among the rocks. Some of the hussars, fishing in these pools, have managed to catch some good–sized barbel. It is wonderful what soldiers manage to carry as part of their kit,—here is a man carrying fish–hooks with him in this wilderness, just as in India, I remember, a man had a pair of skates among his things, which, however, came in useful when he got up to Kandahar in the winter–time. The men are certainly thin, but very healthy and hungry. When a man is hungry, it is curious to see how he furtively watches his neighbour eating, especially if he (the watcher) has already finished his meal.

I know you will ask, what is horseflesh like? Well, it is not so bad when you have got accustomed to it, and especially if you have a little salt, mustard, vegetables, etc., to go with it, and also if you did not happen to know the deceased personally. None of these conditions were present in our case. It is one thing to say, “I’ll trouble you to pass the horse, please,” but quite another to say, “Give me another chunk of D 15.”

During the afternoon march I again took a patrol away to the flank of my main party, and had not rejoined it when darkness set in, consequently, in the main party, they began to fire some signal shots, to show me where they were, and I replied to these. For signal shots we generally fired three shots in rapid succession, but, to my great surprise, my signal was not only replied to by the patrol, but also by a volley fired in the darkness some distance ahead of us. The volley was immediately followed by the bright flare of a signal fire. I very soon rejoined my patrol, and together we pressed on in the direction of the fire. More shots were fired, to which we replied, and, on reaching the place, we were delighted to find our relief party, which had been sent out, under De Moleyns, to meet us. Here were camp–fires ready lit, bully–beef, sugar, flour, cocoa, laid out all ready for issue, and nosebags, stuffed with mealies, standing ready for the horses. It was a goodly sight, and what a meal we all made! The luxury of bully–beef! And while we ate, De Moleyns gave us all the news of the other patrols which had gone out; the one which Kekewich had taken away to our right had communicated with Paget beyond the Gwelo River, and had then made a dash for a rebel impi, which was camped near the “Lion Koppie,” some forty miles down the river, and had totally surprised them. The Mounted Infantry had charged as cavalry, fixing their bayonets, and using their arms as lances; they had killed some twenty of the enemy, and taken many prisoners, corn, and cattle. The prisoners whom our patrol had captured had duly given themselves up at the waggons, and our two native messengers had faithfully carried out their mission, and brought in the note asking for supplies. All the patrols had met with lion adventures, one small party from Ridley’s lot having walked into a family party of nine lions lying down; when the lions got up and stretched themselves and yawned, the scouts thought it time to retire. Another lion visited the waggons, and was wounded by a sentry firing on him at five yards’ distance, but he got away; and even here, where we now were camped, the lions were round about; big fires were therefore kept going all night by the sentries. But we did not sit up late to talk over lion stories; all anxiety being at an end, we coiled down, put our feet to the fire, and slept like logs.

23rd September.—Leaving Poore and the patrol to rest and feed, and to follow on by slow stages, I got a fresh pony from De Moleyns, and, accompanied by him and by the party of men who had brought the food to us, I rode back to the waggons, twenty–two miles. There I got in touch again with the whole of my command; it seemed quite a peaceful change. I now sent orders for the whole force, including the waggons, which had been left near Uwini’s, to rejoin me on the Hartley Hill road; my intention was to return along this road towards Inyati, as an impi was reported to be collected in that neighbourhood, and several parties of rebels occupied koppies near the road. Moreover, the country lying north of the Hartley Hill road had not been, so far, patrolled west of the Shangani. Leaving orders, therefore, for Poore to move by easy stages through that country down to Inyati, I determined to go there with my main body by the main road, having also a strong patrol moving parallel to the road, on the south side of it, clearing the koppies in that country.

28th September.—After sending off the waggons at 3.45 in the morning, I went with the mounted part of the column to the southward of the road, and at dawn surrounded a koppie occupied by rebels. They were too quick for us; having drawn a cordon round the koppie, we ascended it, and found their fires burning, food cooking, and their blankets lying about, just vacated, but not a soul was to be seen, except a dog or two; the people had all bolted into the caves, with which the hill was undermined. We found the entrance to the caves near the top of the hill; it was merely a small hole under a huge rock, into which you had to let yourself down feet first. It led into a ramification of small passages and tunnels underground. Deep down in this dark hole you came to a perpendicular shaft, thirty feet deep, leading, by a tree–stem used as a ladder, into a deeper level of similar caves (I say you could do it, as I couldn’t, for, in climbing about the koppie, I had sprained my ankle slightly, and I had to sit nursing it, while the others did the exploration of the caves). We called down into the caves, for anybody who might be there to come out, as we were going to use dynamite, and after getting out a large supply of grain and Kaffir food, and sending it off to the waggons by gangs of prisoners, we blew up the cave with three charges of dynamite.

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29th September.—On leaving our camp ground this morning, which was on the Shangani River, Gielgud, following behind the column, saw two Matabele spies peeping at us from among the reeds in the river bed, and he cleverly effected their capture with the assistance of some of his boys; one of the men carried a Martini–Henry rifle. When we got into camp that night, a man of the police, who was ill in the hospital–waggon, died suddenly of pneumonia. As we should have to start at 3.45 next morning, we had his funeral then and there, as soon as the grave could be dug. It was an impressive ceremony, the military funeral in the dark, among gleams of camp–fires and lanterns, with a storm of thunder and lightning gathering round.

1st October.—We had at last reached Inyati, only to find a letter from the General to say that the impi that we had come for has sent in to say that they wish to surrender, so that our last few days of hurried marching with weary mules and horses had again been thrown away. The General’s letter goes on to say that the rebels are submitting in every direction, the war is practically over in Matabeleland, and that a court of inquiry is to assemble at Gwelo to hear my reasons for trying Uwini by court–martial instead of handing him over for civil power to try. That this is by direction of the High Commission at Cape Town, who, on hearing that Uwini had been tried and executed, had telegraphed ordering my arrest; but this in effect the General had respectfully declined to carry out. In his letter the General says a court can assemble “as soon as Paget and you have finished your operations against Wedza.” This was the first I had heard of my column being required to co–operate against Wedza, but a hint is as good as a nod, or whatever the phrase is, and I am losing no time about acting upon it. I have picked out all the best horses of the Hussars and the Mounted Infantry, amounting to 115, and these, together with a 7–pounder and two Maxims, I am going to take to Wedza’s, with waggons carrying three weeks’ provisions. Wedza’s is about a hundred miles to the south–east of this. I am leaving all the sick and worn–out horses here at Inyati, where Poore will take charge of them when he arrives about two days hence. The Afrikander corps under Captain van Niekerk belong to the temporary Matabeleland Police, and their engagement shortly expires, so I shall not take them with me, but shall send them back to Buluwayo ready for disbandment, and with them will go the ambulance, taking such men as are sick. These, happily, do not amount to many, but unfortunately include two officers of the Mounted Infantry, namely, Kekewich, who has both hands disabled from veldt sores, and Armstrong ill with dysentery. I am also losing the services of De Moleyns, who has been detailed to organise the new police force in Mashonaland.

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Prince Alexander of Teck has taken his place as my staff officer, and is hard at work in arranging matters, so that we may get away to–morrow morning. Gielgud, too, is leaving us, as Inyati is his headquarters, and, peace having been restored in his district, he has now to settle down and arrange for the settlement of the natives, and for the receipt of further surrenders of rebels and their arms. Van Niekerk, who commands the Afrikander corps, will be a great loss to me, he is so very keen, and a most resourceful and helpful officer, and his men, too, have got on wonderfully well with Tommy Atkins both in camp as well as in the field.

To–night we have had a camp–fire concert, by way of a farewell entertainment, and in honour of Her Majesty’s record reign. We just had sufficient “dop” (Dutch brandy) to give everybody a tot in which to drink her health, and it was a pleasing sight to see, not only her own soldiers, but Colonials and Afrikanders as well, joining with all their hearts in singing “God Save the Queen,” and in the cheers that greeted the proposal of her health.