Jan. 1st. 1852.—A small party of the Boers, who had gone out in the morning to reconnoitre the Zuurberg heights, on which the smoke of a Kaffir fire had been visible all the previous day, returned in the afternoon with the intelligence that they had been sharply engaged with a much larger body of rebels, strongly posted among the crags. They had killed three of the enemy, but were obliged to abandon the attempt to dislodge them with so small a party. It was determined to attack them at early dawn the following morning. For this purpose the Field-Cornet was ordered to warn all the Burghers in his district to attend the rendezvous.

A couple of hours' riding brought us, by daybreak, to the foot of the mountain. The ascent was commenced, and soon became so steep that we had to dismount, and lead our horses up its rocky slope, till at last the large detached blocks became so frequent as to render that impossible, and leaving them on a small open plateau, with half a dozen men, we scrambled up the rest of the ascent on our hands and knees. Our trouble was in vain; for, after expecting at every step to be fired on, we finally stood in their deserted nest, which was thickly strewn with remains of fruit, corn, and vegetables, stolen from the gardens of the settlers in the valley. It was a curious and well-concealed retreat, under an enormous overhanging cliff, scored with the Boers' bullets of the day before; a large mass of rock and one or two thick bushes in front, making it nearly a cavern. There was a regular cooking place of stones; also a small cave for sleeping in, the floor being covered with a bed of dry grass, evidently very lately used, and stained here and there with blood. The smooth faces of the rock in this cave as well as the other places were covered with Bushmen paintings, not unlike in appearance to some of those on the tombs of Egypt. For the most part they represented animals of the chase, koodoo, gemsbok, hartebeeste, &c., with a dog or two, a man, an assegai, or bow and arrows. The execution was very good, and the colours, chiefly red, blue, black and white, still retained their brightness, though the country has been deserted by its former inhabitants, the Bushmen, for many years. The Boers said there was another cave at some distance, and high up on the same range, but much larger, and completely covered with similar paintings; but it was unsafe to visit it without a stronger party, and we had too many patrols to allow our finding either men or time for the purpose.

The Dutchmen believe them to be a century or two old, and allege that the Bushmen worshipped them; but though it is quite possible, yet there is no evidence to show it; and they were probably nothing more than a record of hunting achievements.

We had heard many persons speak of these paintings as curiosities very rarely found, and that only in remote districts, and were therefore as much surprised as pleased at finding them so near, though certainly in a sufficiently out-of-the-way place. I made a hasty sketch of some of them on the outside wrapper of a packet of cartridge. The whole locality was most beautiful; enormous detached masses of rock, scattered around, and stupendous cliffs of a bright yellow and orange colour, their crevices studded with bushes and scarlet and pink ivy-leaved geranium.

At mid-day on the 9th, a large body of the enemy, who had concealed themselves by night in the dry bed of a mountain torrent, suddenly rushed from their ambush, and having wounded a young man at work near the house, before he could seize his gun, instantly swept off the whole of Mynheer Rautenbach's horses, cattle, and sheep. The sound of shots, and especially the well-known "roer" of the old Dutchman, a huge weapon carrying a 4 oz. ball, gave us the alarm at the Post in a moment, though four miles off, for no idle firing was permitted. The alarm was taken up by the Fingoes on the look-out hills; the wall pieces at the Fort were fired as a signal to the Burghers, and in less than ten minutes a mounted party was rattling out of the barrack square, and galloping down the road amid clouds of dust. As we passed the two Laagers, some were loading their roers, others buckling on their powder-horns and pouches; while the "jungvrouws" were saddling the fresh-caught horses, for their fathers, husbands, and brothers; they soon overtook us by short cuts, and as we swept past old Rautenbach's barricaded house, our party was augmented to seventy or eighty men. At a turn in the lovely valley, which opened before us about a mile beyond the farm, we could see the enemy; the green sloping summit of the Zuurberg on our right, and half a mile further up the poort the cattle driven along by a party of mounted Kaffirs. With a shout of exultation we again dashed forward, rattling along the road in an exciting chase; the long manes and tails of the Dutchmen's horses streaming in the wind, the bullets whistling over our heads from the Kaffir-crowned heights, and the enemy before us straining every nerve to reach a narrow gorge, called Tiger's Kloof, the entrance to which was guarded by parties of their comrades posted among the fort-like rocks on either side. The ground presently became so full of hidden holes that in three or four minutes, as many of our party were down.

In the midst of our career, we came to a sudden check at a deep drift, immediately under fire from a "koppie"[17] held by the rebels, who took deliberate aim as we leaped from rock to rock, leading our horses through the bed of the stream; but no one was hit, though three of the horses were wounded. Without waiting to form a party, each one as he mounted pushed on up the Kloof after the cattle, the enemy still keeping up a smart fire. As soon as all had fairly entered the gorge, the Kaffirs on the heights hurried down to take possession of its entrance, but a well directed fire from the party dropped behind to hold the opposing rocks, frustrated the attempt.

The sheep had fallen into our hands at the foot of the mountain, and now the fugitives, closely pressed, abandoned their spoil altogether, and many leaping from their horses, in the hope of escaping on foot among the rocks, were killed at close quarters, fighting bravely to the last.

The stolen horses escaped us, having reached the edge of the Zuurburg bush, but the whole of the oxen and sheep were recaptured, and six of the enemy's horses and some arms taken. Our own steeds were so completely done up that many came to a stand-still, compelling their riders to return a great part of the way on foot. Mynheer Rautenbach was very glad to get so much back again; but he deeply grieved over his nephew, the young man who had been wounded by a charge of "loopers," or slugs, which lodged in the shoulder joint. His sufferings were very severe, and our surgeon pronounced his recovery doubtful.

We were at this time visited by flights of locusts, more numerous than had been known for years. They came in such myriads as literally to darken the air, passing over for hours together in one continued cloud, stretching as far as the eye could see, and frequently shutting out from view objects at the distance of a few hundred yards. The sound of their flight was like the wind; the plain was completely covered with them for miles; and we moved through them with eyes half closed and heads bent down as they were borne along on the breeze. One while they looked like falling snow, and the ground was whitened over as the sun caught their wings in a particular light; another, they appeared sweeping across the sky like a dark smoke. Everything green disappeared in a few days, the young crops were gone, and the pasturage vanished. But what was not less extraordinary, every living thing in turn fed on them. Not only did the horses and cattle greedily devour the destroyers, and the dogs and poultry run after them with open mouths, doubling and turning and jumping off their feet in absurd attempts to catch them in the air, but the Dutch and Hottentot servants fried them in fat and eat them in quantities; the tribes up the country live on them during the season, and lay by a stock of locust meal[18] for the winter, drying them in the sun and pounding them between stones; but this is less surprising among people who kipper snakes, and store up bags of dried ants for family use. We tried fresh locusts, both cooked and uncooked, but found them, to say the least, very indifferent eating.

Our only communication with the world was by means of our faithful Fingoes, who, assuming the Kaffir characteristics, made their way down to Beaufort by secret bush paths under cover of night. On these occasions, which, except on emergencies, were only once a month, the "post party," equipped for the road, came at nightfall to our little whitewashed mess room for the mail; their tall, dusky figures filling the doorway as they stood folded in their blankets; the old chief, Umkye, a fine fellow of six feet three, minus an eye, receiving the mail-bag with many injunctions about its safety. Lingering at the door, the party invariably cast wistful glances at the bottles on the table, when, perhaps, some one, egged on by the rest, would venture to say, with assumed gravity, "Plenty cold night, Baas," and then (as all Kaffirs and Fingoes do) put the end of his thumb between his teeth, in a half deprecatory half-frightened manner. But finding the hint not taken, would return to the attack,—"Kleine sopie goot fÜr de brieffe" (A little drop will be good for the mail). The thumb in the mouth again; "Banyou, Amakosa in de padt, Baas; ein bidtge sopie make big heart" (plenty of Kaffirs in the way, sir; a little dram, &c. &c.). The glistening eyes and animated expression that accompanied the pouring out the coveted dram, and the gusto with which the last drop was drained, would have made a fine subject for the pencil.

Their dislike to this duty was extreme; and unless old Umkye, whose authority none of them dared dispute, were of the party, ten to one the big hearts would get so small on approaching the bush, that they were pretty sure to turn back. On one occasion we found out that the rascals had only gone a few hundred yards from the Fort, and sitting down under the shelter of some rocks, indulged themselves with a pipe for a couple of hours, declaring, when they returned, that they had fallen in with Kaffirs, and barely escaped with their lives. Their escape, however, not being viewed in the light they had anticipated, they were consigned to the guard-room for the remainder of the night, and in the morning, their foot-prints having been tracked, they were told, very much to their surprise (never suspecting white men of tracing spoor), where they had been and what they had done, and were also given to understand that they would be kept prisoners till nightfall, when, though they had shown themselves rascals, they would graciously be permitted the undeserved privilege of proving they were not "amafazi" (women), and would be allowed to set off again. But they had really several narrow escapes, having been once or twice attacked and dispersed by war parties, and owing their escape solely to the darkness of the night and their intimate knowledge of the bush paths. Their journey this month with our letters for the English mail was the last for poor old Umkye; the post-party was waylaid by the Kaffirs, and he was killed; the rest, dispersed in all directions, escaping by superior activity, one to the Blinkwater, two to the Rifle Brigade camp, and one to Post Retief, bringing the news to the chief's wife. We were startled from sleep, about six in the morning, by the most unearthly yells and howls in the barrack-square, all the women joining the widow and her family in their accustomed wild lament. We were deeply grieved at his loss. His amusing and eccentric habits, his respectful manner, and regular attendance at our Church service, had made him a great favourite. Though he could not understand a word of English, he never missed coming to service on Sunday; but could never be induced to venture further than the door, where he sat cross-legged on the floor, stood in a reverential posture, or knelt prostrate with his face on the ground. At his own kraal he nightly collected his household, and prayed and sung a hymn with them. His loss was longer regretted at the Post, if not more deeply felt, than by his wife; for when we gave her a cow and calf, her grief seemed to be forgotten in the calculation of their probable value.

Rautenbach's nephew continuing in a very precarious state, we rode over constantly to see him, taking any little thing in the way of delicacies that we had, though poor was the best. One day we found them thrashing out maize in the house; five or six Dutch Boers with pipes in their mouths, and one or two odoriferous Fingoes sat cross-legged on the stone floor round a heap of "cobs," hammering away at it with keeries—the grains flew all about the room, hitting the clock, the windows, and the glasses, and striking one in the face in a most unpleasant manner. All the time we were talking to the Baas we were screwing up our eyes and ducking our heads, though the old man did not seem to mind it in the least, never winking even, unless actually hit in the eye. The noise could not have been very soothing to the wounded youth, who lay in a dark room adjoining, the window, like all the rest, being bricked up outside for defence. He was in great pain, and evidently sinking fast; two days afterwards death released him from his sufferings, adding another victim to the long list of murdered settlers.

The long dry grass having about this time been accidentally or purposely set on fire by the enemy, the plains around were burning for several days, nothing arresting the course of the flames except a road or a stream. During the day-time a dense cloud of smoke hung over the country; at night the sky was lurid from the blaze, and the effect was magnificent, whole mountain sides and countless thousands of acres presenting one sheet of flame. Nothing could be more dreary and desolate than the endless tracts of blackened country which the conflagration left behind.

January 11.—The Trans-Kei expedition returned at this date to King William's Town, after six weeks in the field without tents, and exposed to deluges of rain among high grass. The refractory and treacherous chief, Kreli, had been severely punished; many of his men killed; 30,000 head of cattle taken; 14,000 goats, and a great number of horses; besides 7000 Fingo slaves liberated, and brought away with their cattle, amounting to 30,000 more, all which had, of course, virtually belonged to Kreli. This crushing blow on the paramount chief of all the Kaffirs, produced a most salutary effect through the whole of Kaffirland.

On the last day of the month, a commando of mounted Boers having joined us from Tarka the previous day, we started at 2 A.M., with all our available horsemen, the party altogether about 100 strong, to patrol the Koonap district. It was a fine moonlight morning, and as, for the first few miles, silence was not necessary, we trotted along with a cheerful sound of horses' hoofs, clanking stirrups, and jingling arms, mingled with a Babel of tongues, English and Dutch, Gaelic, broad Scotch, and Fingo. On reaching Kaal Hoek, and finding that we were a little too early, we off-saddled, and in silence, each one at his horse's head, waited for daylight, in front of a belt of wood on the hill-side, which echoed with the cries of wild pintados, as the sky brightened with the coming dawn.

We rode round by Bushneck, and from the heights could see a few stray Kaffirs moving across the Waterkloof valley far below. Thence we proceeded, over hill and plain, under a burning sun, through the Koonap district, passing many deserted farms, their orchards bent down with the weight of unheeded fruit, and threading our way by deep bush and eddying river, where, excepting the chattering of the flocks of brilliant scarlet bunting,[19] which built their pensile nests, and flitted among the tall papyrus, the silence and solitude were oppressive. Now and then we came on the print of naked feet and the remnants of half eaten prickly-pears, but the spoor was old, and consequently useless. On many of the mimosas, we observed large clusters of a very beautiful parasitical plant, a Loranthus, with dark glossy leaves, and orange coloured flowers.

After having descended the side of a steep rocky mountain where it was necessary to alight and lead our horses, I was in the act of remounting, when my horse suddenly started off at a gallop, and taking the bit in his mouth, left me at his mercy, with one foot in the stirrup and a loaded rifle in my hand. The saddle being loose, turned round, and after a short but mad career, down we came on the stones with a crash that made the sparks fly from my eyes; the next moment I found myself in the centre of a ring of kind-hearted Boers, eager to render me assistance; one trying to mend my favourite rifle, which was smashed to pieces, others offering water, and two or three feeling me all over, to ascertain whether any bones were broken. Happily I had not sustained any serious injury, though sufficiently severe to render me very unequal to the exertion of riding thirty miles further in the sun, over a country becoming at every step more rugged and difficult. Sometimes we had to cross roaring drifts of the Koonap with slippery shelving rocks, that frequently launched horse and rider into deep eddying pools; or, bent double on the saddle-bows, pushed our way through thorny thickets of vacht um bidtge,[20] prickly-pear, and mimosa, occasionally creeping round some precipitous scaur, by a narrow and crumbling track, where a false step of our nimble and active steeds would have hurled us into the river beneath.

The sun was so hot, that my leg and thigh, from which the trews had been completely torn, became blistered by its burning rays, and continued very painful for many days after.

At Viljoens farm, we surprised a small party of Kaffirs robbing and destroying. A brisk scrimmage took place; three or four of them were killed, and some women captured, whom we liberated after getting all the information we could out of them, which was, as usual, very little.

Never had the sight of the little fort been more welcome than on that sultry evening, after sixteen hours patrolling over more than fifty miles of broken country, and the last thirty miles of it in great pain. I did not leave my bed for many days; the heat of the weather, and the peculiar tendency of the atmosphere to aggravate every wound, however trivial, rendering mine both tedious and troublesome.

A few days after our return, some little excitement was caused in our isolated community, by the report of a mounted party approaching through the glen. It proved to be a patrol from the Blinkwater camp, which, having fallen in with the enemy, and captured twelve horses, and killing also sundry Kaffirs without any casualty on their own side, had been prevented returning by the timely and fortunate discovery that their pass was "forelaid" by a very strong body of the enemy; consequently they had made for our post, which they reached safely with all their booty, completely outwitting the cunning savages.

Once more able to mount my horse, I rejoined our patrols, which were fully occupied in pursuing and waylaying the enemy, who, in small detached parties, made their appearance first on one side, then on another, in vain attempts to seize the government cattle; upwards of a thousand head being generally kept here in reserve. On clear bright days we were tolerably secure, as we could then discover with the glass, the solitary blanketted spy, perched on some lofty crag of the Didama or little Winterberg; but when their summits were hidden, and the clouds rolled half way down their sides, and hung there motionless, we were all on the qui vive, for the crafty Kaffirs, creeping down under the vapoury cover, would exchange shots with the cattle guard, or herdsmen, even though they did not venture to make a dash for the cattle.

ANCIENT BUSHMAN PAINTINGS.