Читать книгу Sporting Scenes amongst the Kaffirs of South Africa - Alfred W. Drayson - Страница 7

The different terms that I shall employ, viz., Kraal, Spoor, Kaffir, and Assagy, are not known to the Kaffirs themselves, except through their commerce with the white men; but as the words are in general vogue through the colony, I am forced to use them.

Kraal is a Dutch term, and means an inclosure for animals. I fancy that they call the Kaffirs’ residences by this name to indicate their contempt for the people; the Kaffirs call their villages “umsi.”

Spoor is also Dutch: the Kaffirs speak of spoor as umkondo. The footmarks of a particular animal are then named as Amasondo injlovu, footmarks of elephants; umkondo being the singular,—one footmark.

“Kaffir” is also a term unknown to the men so called; they speak of themselves by the designation of the tribe. Kosa is a frontier Kaffir, ama, the plural, being prefixed, makes Amakosa Kaffirs; thus, Amazulu, Amaponda, etc. A Hottentot is called Umlao.

An assagy is called umkonto; the plural is here irregular, izakali being assagies. A kaross is called by Kaffirs ingubu.

The frontier Kaffirs are fine athletic men, and stand generally about six feet in height: they are nearly black, and have woolly hair, although the features are in many cases almost European. The intombi’s, or young girls, are often quite pretty, with wild, free, dark eyes, that may well plead as excuses for the young Kaffirs’ propensity for cattle-stealing, the decimal coinage of Kaffirland being 10 cows = 1 wife.

One very soon gets over the prejudice of colour, and after having looked for some time on the rich black of a Kaffir belle, a white lady appears bloodless, consumptive, and sickly in comparison. The hard work that an umfazi, or wife, has to perform very soon spoils her girlish figure and appearance, and she then becomes a haggard, wrinkled, repulsive old witch. The coolness of all these women is often surprising. A skirmish with the Kaffirs and our troops might take place on one day, and on the next the women belonging to the Kaffir men engaged would come into the camp and offer wood or milk for sale, calling to us to “tenga” (buy). I suspect that these women are often sent in merely as spies.

There is a great mistake prevalent in the minds of most English people, and that is, their habit of underrating the Kaffir as a foe. He is looked upon as a naked savage, armed only with a spear, and hardly worth powder and shot. But in reality the Kaffirs are a formidable race, and, from their skill in many arts in which we are deficient, are much to be dreaded. Nearly every frontier Kaffir is now provided with a gun, thanks to the English traders, and very many have horses. The Kaffirs, being also particularly active and always in excellent training, make splendid light infantry. I believe it was Napoleon who remarked that legs won as many battles as arms: should this be true, the Kaffirs certainly have a great advantage over us, as they can go three miles at least to our two.

Although indifferent marksmen, they are not inferior to the average of our private soldiers, and they are fast improving. Their training from childhood consists in a course of assagy-throwing and a cunning way of approaching and surprising an enemy. As they are in such cases destitute of clothes, they move through the thorny bush with great ease, and are in such light marching order that their impediments are nothing in comparison with those of our soldiers, heavily burdened and tightly strapped. A Kaffir is also seasoned by hardship from childhood, and keeps fat and sleek on the roots and berries which he picks up, occasionally eked out with scraps of meat; while Englishmen rapidly lose their form and flesh by living on the tough old ox that is killed and immediately served out to them as rations.

The individual courage of the frontier Kaffirs is undeniable, and they have given many proofs of it. One case I may mention, which will show the great risk which they will run for their favourite stake, cattle. It was related to me by an eye-witness.

During the time that there was encamped on the Debe flats a force consisting of upwards of two hundred men, the cattle were inclosed nightly in a kraal, formed of bushes and trees cut down, and inclosing a space of some forty yards in diameter. Sentries were placed round this inclosure, in spite of whom, for two nights, the bushes had been removed and two or three oxen taken away. There had been a slight disturbance amongst the cattle each night, but upon inspection everything seemed right. To prevent a third robbery, a number of Hottentots were placed round the kraal and ordered to lie down under the bushes, and to keep quiet. They remained nearly half the night without seeing anything, when one wily fellow noticed a small black object on the ground at a short distance from him, which he thought he had not observed before. Keeping his eyes fixed upon it, he saw a movement when a sentry walked away from it, and a stillness as he approached. The Hottentot remained perfectly quiet until the black object was a few yards from him, when he called out in Kaffir that he was going to shoot. The black object jumped on its feet, whirling an assagy, but only in time to receive a heavy charge of buckshot in the breast, followed up by a bullet, which terminated the career of a Kaffir well-known for his daring and cattle-stealing propensities.

That the frontier Kaffir is, in nearly every case, a rogue, a thief, and a liar, no one will, I believe, deny; there is a great deal, however, to be said in excuse for him. He is a savage, uneducated, and misled by the bad example of his forefathers, and he is gradually encroached upon by the white men, who, after a war, most unceremoniously appropriate a certain number of square miles of territory, and tell the original owner that he must either move on, or that he is only a squatter on sufferance.

The Kaffir has had one or two severe lessons, showing him that he is no match for the white man in fair open fights, and so, gathering experience from these lessons, he now rarely runs an open risk, but confines himself to attacks where he has every advantage of numbers and position. His great stronghold is the bush, and without doubt he is there a most dangerous animal. Active, unencumbered with clothing, and his colour well suited for concealment, he glides about like a snake; the knowledge he has gained in surprising the quick-sighted and sharp-eared animals of his country, he now applies to the destruction of his enemies. Hiding himself amongst the roots and underwood, he waits patiently his opportunity, his gun in readiness and his assagies handy. It is not at all remarkable that the raw soldier, whose early training has been the plough or a shop, or some other occupation as little likely to fit him for bush-craft, falls a victim to the hidden foe. The scarlet coat of the British soldier makes him a capital target, while his belts and other trappings retard his movements most effectually.

Lieutenant-Colonel E. Napier, in his work entitled “Excursions in Southern Africa,” has described the effect of the trappings of the English soldier in so able a manner, that I am afraid to attempt any further description, but must e’en pirate this author’s words, and beg his pardon for the theft:—

“The ‘Rode Bashees’ of the party, as the Kaffirs denominate our gallant red-jackets, to distinguish them from the ‘Amabula’ (Boers) and the ‘Umlaou,’ or Hottentots, of the force, had previously, as much as possible, divested themselves of those old-fashioned ‘pipeclay’ trammels, only calculated, when on service, to impede the movements and check the brilliant valour of the British troops. Tight tape-laced coatees (scarlet in leprosy) were cast aside, and shell-jackets, well patched with leather, generally speaking, had become the order of the day. Blue dungaree trowsers were substituted for white prolongations. The heavy knapsack had been left at head-quarters, and was replaced by a small canvas bag loosely slung across the right shoulder. Few stiff, leather dog-collars,—most appropriately called ‘stocks,’—now answered the roll; and the crown of that very essence of discomfort and uselessness yclept the ‘chako’ being kicked out, had made way for the rather more sensible head-dress of the ‘forage-cap;’ whilst, horrible to relate! many a sunburnt, weather-beaten English phiz,—long a stranger to razor or soap-suds, and spite of ‘whisker’ regulations,—wildly peeped through a bushy jungle of untrimmed beard and luxuriant moustache, which, though rather, it must be admitted, brigand-like appendages, were undoubtedly found more comfortable by the respective wearers than an equal proportion of sores or blisters, with which the ‘pale faces were sure to be covered if deprived in this fiery clime of that protection so kindly afforded by Nature’.

“The above is, generally speaking, a correct representation of the British soldier when on actual service; and only shows how completely unfitted are his everyday dress and appointments (though perhaps well enough adapted to the household troops) for the roughing of a campaign; particularly such campaigns as he is most likely to be engaged in, against uncivilised barbarians, under a burning sun, and amidst the abrading effects of dense and thorny jungles.

“No; if the pipeclay martinets, the gold and tape-lacing tailors of the army, cannot bring themselves to study utility and comfort a little more, in the everyday dress of the working part of the army, let them, at least, when our brave fellows are called upon for such roughing as that required in the last Kaffir campaign,—let them, I say, safely deposit all these gingerbread trappings in store; rig out our soldiers in a fashion that will afford some protection against climate; not impede the free use of their limbs; and give them a chance of marching under a broiling sun, without a coup de soleil; or of coming out of a thorny jungle, with some small remnants of clothing on their backs.

“What, with his ordinary dress and accoutrements, was often the result, to the British soldier, of a Kaffir skirmish in the bush? Seeing his Hottentot compagnons d’armes dash into the dense thorny covert, and not wishing to be outdone by these little ‘black fellows,’ he sets its abrading properties at defiance, and boldly rushes in on their wake. His progress is, however, soon arrested; an opposing branch knocks off the tall conical machine curiously balanced, like a milkmaid’s pail, on the top of his head. He stoops down to recover his lost treasure; in so doing his ‘pouch-box’ goes over his head, his ‘cross-belts’ become entangled. Hearing a brisk firing all around, and wishing to have a part in the fun, he makes an effort to get on to the front, but finds himself most unaccountably held in the obstinate grasp of an unexpected native foe. The thick-spreading and verdant bush, under which the ‘chako’ has rolled, is the ‘wacht-een-beetje’ and, to his cost, he feels in his woollen garments the tenacious hold of its hooked claws; for the more he struggles to get free, the more he becomes entangled in the thorny web. He now hears ‘retire’ echoing through the adjoining rocks; and his friends, the ‘totties,’ as they briskly run past, warn him, in their retreat, that the enemy—who knows right well our bugle-calls—is at their heels. Exhausted by his protracted struggle, whilst maddened at the thought of falling into the power of his cruel foe, the poor fellow makes a desperate effort at escape. In so doing, the ill-omened ‘chako’ is left to its fate; the wacht-een-beetje retains in triumph part of his dress. As he ‘breaks covert,’ the Kaffirs, with insulting yells, blaze away at him from the Bush; and, scudding across the plain, towards his party, with the ill-adjusted pouch banging against his hinder parts, the poor devil,—in addition to the balls whistling around him,—is also exposed, as he approaches, to the jeers and laughter of his more fortunate comrades!

“Far be it to attempt here to detract from the efficiency and merits of our gallant troops, whose services—spite of every obstacle raised in their way—have been so conspicuous in every part of the globe; I merely wish to point out how very much that efficiency might be increased, by a little attention to the dictates of reason and common sense.”

Lieutenant-Colonel Napier evidently does not consider a man who carries weight ought to be matched against one unhampered by such a retarding influence, and he appears also to believe a man would be able both to fight and to march better, if he were not half-choked, or half-crushed, by his accoutrements. In olden times, the armour of a knight, whilst it so fettered him as to almost prevent him from injuring his enemy, still protected his own person. The trappings of the British soldier of the present day merely perform the former half of this service.

The Kaffir is accustomed to act on his own responsibility, is full of self-confidence, and is a kind of independent machine in himself; the common English soldier is trained not to think for himself, but to do what he is ordered,—no more, no less. When, therefore, he finds himself separated from his companions, which frequently happens in bush-fighting, surrounded by a dense thicket, a brier under his arm, a mimosa-thorn sticking in his leg, and half a dozen wait-a-bits holding his raiment fast, there is but little blame due to him if he is assagied by his unseen dark-hided foe, who has been long watching for this opportunity.

When provisions or stores are sent from one part to another, the ox-waggon of the country is made use of. A convoy of twenty waggons, and sometimes more, are sent together, an escort of fifty or one hundred men accompanying it. These waggons, each with its team of oxen, cover a great distance, and the road being frequently lined with bush, impenetrable except to a Kaffir, several opportunities of course occur for advantageous ambuscades, where overwhelming numbers can be at once concentrated on any particular spot. To be completely guarded against these Kaffir surprises is next to impossible, the whole thing being done in a few minutes; and, perhaps, during that short time, two or three spans of oxen are whisked off, which one might as well attempt to follow as to chase clouds.

If Kaffirs are attacked in the bush, and they find that they are likely to get the worst of the fight, they do not hesitate a moment about retreating. There is no false delicacy with them, and they are away as fast as their legs can carry them to a more secure and distant locality, only to return again on the first convenient opportunity.

Attacking and destroying their villages inflicts no great loss upon them, for their houses are rebuilt in a few days. The only time when they are likely to suffer is near their harvest season, for their crops then would be destroyed. If they once gather the corn, they soon have it well concealed in holes made for this purpose, which are circular and deep.

I was nearly terminating my career in a corn-pit at Natal, and was therefore well acquainted with its construction. As I was riding round amongst some old deserted kraals looking for bush-pigs, my horse suddenly stumbled; he partly recovered, and then came down on his head; I thought he had the staggers, and tried to jump off. I felt him sinking behind me, and as he was struggling, I had great difficulty in getting clear. I had just got my foot out of the stirrup and was throwing my leg over him, when he fell down several feet, with me on the top of him. The whole of this took place in a few seconds. The dirt, dust, and an avalanche of broken sticks, came tumbling down, and blinded me for a moment. Upon looking about me, I found that we had sunk into an old corn-pit, about twelve feet in depth and seven in diameter. The sides were as hard as stone, for a fire is always kept burning for a day or so in the interior when the pit is first made.

Fortunately, during the fall I was uppermost, otherwise our mingled bones might have been the only intimation that my friends would have had of this misfortune, as the hole was in a very out-of-the way locality.

My pony struggled at first, but, being a very cool hand, soon became quiet. His hind-legs were bent under him like those of a dog when he squats down, his head resting against the side of the pit. I could not reach the top to get out, so I set to work with my knife and cut some holes in the side of the pit, and worked my way out as a New Zealander gets up a tree. I then ran to the hut of a squatter about a mile distant, and obtained the aid of half a dozen Kaffirs with spades and picks. We set to work and dug a sort of ramp, which allowed my horse to walk out. He was very much cramped and rather stiff; but after walking about a little, seemed to be all right, and no ill effects followed from the fall, with the exception of a quantity of hair rubbed away, and the fracture of the saddle-tree. Some Kaffirs had covered this pit over with sticks and turf in hopes of earthing some game. It was fortunate there was no sharp stake driven at the bottom of this pit, as is frequently the case; one, if not both of us, might then have been impaled.

It is a difficult thing to surprise Kaffirs, for their spies are always on the alert, and the movements of the main body are made with great rapidity. If a large force invades their country, the Kaffirs will retreat with their cattle to the most inaccessible places; if attacked there, the men fight as long as is prudent, and then beat a retreat, leaving some of their cattle and driving away others. Thus they harass the attacking parties of their enemies during their return, lining every drift (crossing of river) and every bit of cover, firing away like fury, and ready for a rush should an opportunity occur.

After this the Kaffirs break into small bands and invade the colony, burning, murdering, and cattle-lifting. They are sometimes gainers by this system of reprisals, at least until a large force is raised, or extra troops arrive from England. The Kaffirs then eat a little humble-pie, pay a fine in cattle, which they most probably steal again soon, and peace is once more restored. No great punishment is inflicted on these rascals, they being difficult to catch. And when they are caught, and such a lesson could be given them as would act as a caution for years, the English authorities have great fear that any severe punishment which they might inflict would bring the whole of the good but mistaken peace-loving folks of Exeter Hall in full cry on their heels. Moreover, although these philanthropists have a splendid field in England upon which to exercise their feelings, such as prisoners in Newgate who have committed crimes small by comparison with those of the Kaffirs, still the far-off land of Africa must be chosen by them, and the savage, whose great delight, from habit and taste, is to murder and steal, must needs be protected, when he ought to be hung or shot without mercy. If some of these misled and misinformed people were aware how much harm they really did to the savage, and the vast number of lives that have been sacrificed by a want of firmness and of apparent cruelty on the part of those intrusted with Kaffir government, they would cease to do wrong out of piety, and would leave the entire management of these matters in the hands of merciful men, who may be on the spot, and whose experience would lead them to discover that a few lives taken without hesitation at the commencement of disputes would eventually prevent the loss of many hundreds.

The policy of showing mercy to the frontier Kaffir murderer is similar to that of allowing a mad dog to run at liberty and bite people rather than to commit the cruelty of knocking it on the head. At the present time, the prompt and decided conduct of the able governor of the Cape appears to have checked a most threatening demonstration of the frontier Kaffirs. The Dutchmen, who are far up in the interior, keep their black neighbours in better order. When there is any just cause for going to war, such a severe punishment is inflicted by them on the Kaffirs, that a score of years will not wipe out the moral effect of the dread that these Dutchmen have inspired. I am convinced that by this apparent severity lives are eventually saved.

Almost all the disasters that we have met with in Africa have been caused by underrating the enemy, or fancying security where there was danger. Perpetual caution and watchfulness are the only safeguards.

Many people under English dominion have a desire for war, on account of the advantages which they thereby derive, their waggons and oxen being frequently let for months at a time to the commissariat, etc., and standing idle, but well paid for. The more troops there are in the colony, the more money is brought to the inhabitants.

The unfortunate individuals who are settled on the outskirts of the colony, or in situations liable to be attacked, are the great sufferers during war time. In each successive war the Kaffir tribes are found to be better armed and more formidable. Young Kaffirland likes excitement, and having little to lose and everything to gain, trusts to his luck for a coup.

The assagy is a formidable weapon in the hands of a Kaffir: it is a light spear about five or six feet long; an iron blade, of nearly two feet in length, is fixed in the wood while the iron is red-hot, and the socket is then incased with the fresh sinews of some animal, which hold all firmly together as they contract. When preparing to throw the assagy, the Kaffir holds it about an inch on the wood end of the balance, the back of the hand down, the first finger and thumb grasping, and all the other fingers resting on the wood. He continues jerking the assagy about, to give it the quivering motion that renders it difficult to avoid; while he occasionally pretends to throw it, to put the man aimed at off his guard. All this time he continues jumping about, rushing from side to side, but getting gradually nearer.

Having generally five assagies, he launches them, one after the other, with great rapidity and certain aim, and with sufficient force to drive the iron through a man when thrown from fifty to eighty yards’ distance, while some experts can throw them a hundred yards. An assagy may be dodged when it comes singly, and is seen, but a Kaffir prefers throwing it when your back is turned, and generally sends a shower of them. Fortunately the Kaffir nations consider that to poison spears is despicable. When an assagy is quivering in the hand of a Kaffir, it appears to be alive: the quivering motion given to it just before casting continues to affect it during its aerial course.

The knob-kerries (sticks with large heavy knobs on the end) are also very favourite weapons, and are thrown with great precision. It is a frequent practice for a dozen or more Kaffirs to go out after quail, and to knock over great numbers of birds with their sticks.

The Kaffir men assume a vast amount of dignity, and look down upon the Hottentots, Fingoes, etc., as a very inferior race to themselves. Gratitude they scarcely seem to know, and charity is looked upon as a weakness.

I saw a Kaffir come into the commissioner’s residence one day to sell some horses; he made out a most miserable story of his distress, stating that his cattle had been taken by our soldiers, although he was a most peaceably disposed man: he was in consequence very hungry, having really little or nothing to eat.

Trading at this time was forbidden between the Kaffirs and the colonists, and this man wanted to go into the colony to turn his horses into cash. The commissioner, thinking the Kaffir’s account was untrue, refused him this permission, although the applicant talked most eloquently for two hours in support of his case, frequently complaining of his hunger. He was told, at length, by the commissioner, to eat his horses if he were starving. The Kaffir, giving with his tongue a loud click (always expressive of disgust and indignation), sat silent for nearly a minute, he then stood up to his full height, and wrapping his blanket round him, told the commissioner, with a grand air, that he was not a Hottentot: he here referred to the practice these men have of eating the quagga, or zebra.

Finding all the talking of no avail, the Kaffir at length squeezed out a few tears; they appeared so genuine that an officer who was present gave him a shilling to get some meat. The Kaffir quietly pocketed it, and, looking round to one of his followers, said, in a low tone, “What does this fool of an Englishman expect to get from me?”

The horses which the Kaffirs use are small, underbred, but hardy animals. A Kaffir soon ruins them, as he surely gives the horse a sore back, and always rides at full gallop. He considers a horse to be of no use unless it is ridden fast, as he can go along on foot at six miles an hour.

These Kaffirs think that it is vulgar to appear in a hurry to talk about any subject, however important it may be to them. A party coming in to see the interpreter on business, rush up at full gallop, their blankets flying out behind them, and their whips busily at work. They pull up close to the talking-house, jump off and fasten their horses to a bush, or turn them out to graze, they themselves quietly sitting down to smoke. In about an hour the chief man gets up, stretches himself, as though much fatigued and lazy, and quietly walks to the house of the interpreter, giving him the usual salutation, and talking at first on indifferent subjects. When the Kaffir considers that there is a good opening, he broaches the matter for which he came, but with an assumed air of indifference and carelessness. When it has been fully discussed, he quietly walks out and sits talking the whole matter over with his councillors; all the black party then mount, and dash off with the same reckless speed.

The Kaffirs are most daring riders. They will ride at full speed down the steepest and most dangerous hills. It is true that they frequently get most fearful “purls” but their neck-joints appear to be more firmly constructed than ours.

Some of the friendly Kaffirs who came in to see us were very good shots. Kona, one of the chiefs, fired at a quart bottle stuck up at a hundred yards, sending all his bullets within a few inches, and at last knocked the neck off. He sat down on the ground, and aimed by resting his left hand on the ramrod, which he stuck in the ground for a support; this sort of shooting would be quite good enough to annoy troops in a thick bushy country.

I think that the next Kaffir war, which is now nearly due, will be a very severe one, unless some individual out there thinks of “burning the bush” that these black fellows hide in; a method that was suggested by some wise head in England, who condemned the stupidity of the Capites for not having done it before. Surely there has been enough intellect in South Africa to have thought of this long ago, had it been possible. Unfortunately, the greater part of the trees are evergreen, and therefore rather unfit for a blaze. Let the wise proposer try his success on his boxwood hedges, or his rhododendrons, and then imagine patches of forty square miles of similarly constituted vegetation; he will at once see that burning is not so very simple a process.

It is scarcely to be wondered at that in civilised countries, man should bow to his fellow-man, and quietly submit to be his slave, as very many are compelled thus to cringe for their daily bread. But it does appear extraordinary that amongst savages this same submission and obedience should be practised, as the chief is frequently undistinguishable from his commonest man, and the latter is independent of the former as regards food, clothing, or any other of the world’s goods. Yet no clansman in Scotland yields half the homage to the head of his clan that the African savage does to his chief. This feeling of obedience would render almost useless any attempt to employ the Kaffirs as our soldiers, a plan that appears now to have some supporters in England. We might give our orders to these black troops, but if a chief winked his eye, or held up his finger, not a man would obey us until he had received his chief’s permission.

The Kaffir’s ornaments are simple, but characteristic; such as strings of beads interspersed with the teeth of wolves, lions, or hyaenas, while necklaces made of the claws only are generally worn by chiefs of distinction. The white beads and teeth contrast strongly with the dark skins of these people, and produce a very good effect. Bound their wrists they wear rings of brass, which are welded firmly on, and extend sometimes nearly to the elbows; higher up the arm rings of ivory are worn, which are punched out from the tusks of elephants. Both the teeth necklaces and the ivory rings are much valued, and cannot readily be purchased. I possess a specimen of both ornaments; the former I with great difficulty obtained for eight shillings, a sum nearly equal in value to a cow.

There appears to be great doubt, even amongst the best-informed, as to a Kaffir’s religion; that the Kaffirs have a belief in the future state, there is, however, no doubt; but in what way they really look on this state it is difficult to determine. They believe in apparitions and the return of the spirits of their departed friends after death. Shulanga is the term which they use to express this idea, and a Kaffir attributes most of his successes and escapes to the thoughtful watchfulness of a friendly spirit. They are believers in witchcraft to an unlimited extent; but what they understand by the term is very difficult to say. I once obtained the character of a wizard by mixing a seidlitz-powder, and drinking it off during effervescence, for the spectators took for granted that the water was boiling. The rain-makers have enormous control over the tribes at times; but acquaintance with the white man lessens the faith in these wizards.

The Hottentots are certainly the ugliest race on earth, and the first view of them causes a feeling of almost horror. Men they are, without doubt, but many look more like baboons; their high cheek-bones, small eyes, thick lips, yellow mummy sort of skin, with a few little crumbs of hair like peppercorns stuck over their heads and chins, give them a most ridiculous appearance. Their short stature, rarely over five feet, and frequently less, with the rough costume of untanned leather breeches, etc., would make but a sorry spectacle were they to be paraded in Regent-street on their rough-looking Cape horses beside a troop of Life-guards. But still greater would be the ridicule were a troop of the latter to be transported to Africa, and then told to follow these active little Hottentot soldiers through the bush, and to attack the band of Kaffirs hidden in the dark kloof above: each is good in his calling.

The Cape corps is almost entirely composed of Hottentots, and they are right well fitted for the work of fighting the Kaffirs. Courageous and cunning, endowed with a sort of instinct that seems superior to reason, they can hear, see, and almost smell danger in all shapes, and are ever on the watch for suspicious signs. No footmark of Kaffir, wolf, lion, or elephant is passed unnoticed; no bird is seen to flit away from a distant bush without apparent cause, but a careful watch is at once set up; not a dog lifts up his ears, but the Totty—as the Hottentot is familiarly called—is also suspicious.

The wild life led in Africa causes even one lately removed from civilisation to feel his instincts become rapidly keener.

A man who has been born and nurtured in the wilderness, therefore, must be far superior to the freshly transplanted European, who finds that he has to commence the A, B, C, under these very men whose appearance would at first produce only a feeling of contempt for their prowess.

A deadly hatred exists between the Kaffir and the Hottentot, and both are equally expert in the bush, where an Englishman is so rarely at home.

In fair fighting the British soldier has proved that no country produces men fit to cope with him; but let him be cautious of ambuscades and bush-fighting.

A naval officer, who was in a fort on the west coast of Africa, happened to be attacked by the natives, but as his fort was a stronghold that the barbarians could make nothing of, they were easily repulsed. Elated with his successful defence, he sallied out, and gave them a good drubbing on some open ground near. But not contented with this triumph, he must needs follow them up into the bush, where he was defeated with great slaughter. His jaw-bones are now said to be beating the big drum of Ashantee.

Our victories over the barbarians of Africa have not been so very great, but that we might condescend to take a useful lesson from these men, savages as they are.

Any man who has seen the Kaffirs or Hottentots approach dangerous game,—their perseverance, courage, activity, and hardihood, combined with caution and cunning, may easily understand that they could employ these gifts in a manner that would make them anything but despicable enemies.

There is a recklessness about the Hottentot which the Kaffir does not possess, the former being a thorough spendthrift. Give him ammunition for his defence, and he will blaze away at tree or bush, air or ground, until it is all expended, and with no other object or reason than for amusement, or thinking that a Kaffir might be near.

I had the following story from a Kaffir, one of the actors, who remarked to me the great quantity of ammunition that had been wasted in a skirmish.

Three Kaffirs were hidden behind some rocks on a hill, watching the advance of a party of the Hottentots who were sent out to take cattle. As this party entered a ravine below the Kaffir spies, one of the latter crept down in the bush, and, taking care to get a safe place, fired a shot. A volley from the Hottentots was the response, and they continued firing into the bush, from which no return came, until the whole of their ammunition was expended. The Kaffir remarked to me that, had his party been larger, he could then have attacked the lavish invaders at a great advantage.

I always admired the neat little double-barrelled carbine of the Cape corps; it is light, effective, and, being double-barrelled, is far more destructive where snap-shooting is all the chance one gets. I never thoroughly understood why the whole army should not have double-barrelled guns.

It is a difficult matter at first to tell the Fingo from the Kaffir, but after a little practice one soon sees many distinctions. The Fingo, for instance, always bores holes in his ears, and frequently carries things in them, which is not the case with the Kaffir.

The frontier hush is principally composed of the mimosa and wait-a-bit thorn; the fish-hook-like shape of the latter, and the long spears of the former, make a journey through the bush very destructive to clothes: one ought to have a suit of armour to get on comfortably.