The White Chief of the Caffres

“Welcome to England, my boy,” said my uncle, as he shook me heartily by the hand. “You have had strange adventures since you left India; but, judging from your appearance, you do not seem to have suffered much. Why, you are quite a young man, and I expected to see a mere boy.”

At the age at which I had then arrived there are few things which are more flattering than that of being told you are no longer a boy. When with the Caffres I never thought of such things. The fact of having been made a chief had promoted me to the dignity of manhood, but when I came again among white people I was treated as a boy by some of these; my uncle, however, considered me a young man.

After a few remarks about my voyage, my uncle informed me that we should dine in an hour, and that probably it would take me some time to dress and refresh myself after my journey: he rang the bell, and told Edwards, the dignified butler, to show me to my room.

There was a solid well-to-do look in everything in my uncle’s house: the furniture consisted principally of carved black oak; curiosities of various kinds were hung up in the hall and on the walls of the staircase. My bedroom had several handsome pictures in it, the bed itself being a large four-poster.

Edwards helped me to unpack my portmanteaus, and hinted that the master always dressed for dinner. My outfit at Cape Town had been very complete, so I arrayed myself in a “claw-hammer” coat, as the sailors term it, and a white tie, and made my way to the drawing-room, where I found my uncle. In his evening dress he looked still more noticeable than when I first saw him, and I felt proud of being the nephew of so distinguished a looking man.

During dinner I was surprised at the knowledge my uncle possessed of the Caffres, and of South Africa. He had evidently studied that country, and was well acquainted with its geography, climate, and the character of the natives. The questions he put to me taxed all my local knowledge to answer, and I found it difficult to believe that he had not himself been in the country. He was much interested in my account of the language; he was himself a great linguist, and traced in the Caffre words I used a connection with the Arabic. After dinner we sat talking, mainly about my adventures at the Cape, my uncle’s questions leading me on to give him all the details of my life in that country. At ten o’clock he told me that he always breakfasted at eight; that at seven o’clock the gong sounded three times, at half past seven four times, and at eight five times. He added that one of the things about which he was particular was punctuality, as very much, especially in business, depended on attention to this.

When alone in my bedroom I began to speculate on what was to become of me. I had left India with the intention of being sent to a school in England, for the purpose of being educated for one of the colleges devoted to aspirants for India. After my long residence among the Caffres, where I had learned nothing of what in England is termed education, but had added years to my age, I knew how very awkward I should feel in going to a school where probably I might be the biggest boy in the school, but where the smallest boy would know considerably more than I knew. I, however, trusted my uncle would consider all these questions, and I had not long to wait before I found that my trust was justified.

On the third night after my arrival my uncle after dinner said: —

“I have been thinking, Julius, what is best to be done about your education. You are peculiarly situated: you are in age and appearance quite a young man, and I have discovered that you are very observant and have sound common sense; but you know nothing of those things which are esteemed in the world, such as mathematics, accounts, Latin, French, and other matters. I don’t think it would be pleasant for you to go to a school and mix with other boys, who would be so much younger than you are, but who know so much more. I have decided therefore to secure a private tutor, who will come to this house each morning and work with you till half-past-four. You will, if you are in earnest, progress much more rapidly by this means, and I wish to know when you would like to begin to work.”

“At once,” I replied. “I had thought exactly the same about going to school, and should certainly have been ashamed of myself for knowing so little.”

“It is no fault of yours,” replied my uncle. “You know more of some things than many men learn during the whole of their lives; for whilst others have been acquiring a knowledge of Greek, Latin, and mathematics, you have learned how to think for yourself and to reason on what you see. It is rare to find a youngster like you as much a philosopher as you are, and all your life you will derive a great advantage from knowing how to do things for yourself.”

My life now became one of routine; the tutor who came was a comparatively young man, but was a very able teacher. We were more like companions than master and pupil, and when in our leisure hours I had told him of my past life, he took great interest in me.

My uncle had a dinner-party about once a week, to which he invited men who were remarkable in some way – authors, artists, men of science, and travellers. I took great interest in such society, and my knowledge of South Africa and the private life of the Zulus caused me to be listened to with attention whenever I was asked questions.

Two years passed in this way, and I made such rapid progress that I had become a fair mathematician, understood book-keeping by double entry, had gone through the six books of Euclid, could read and write French, and might be said to be well educated. My tutor was surprised at the rapidity with which I acquired knowledge. I, however, attributed it to the cultivation of my powers of observation, which had been developed during the wild life I had led in Africa.

My uncle at this period informed me that my tutor had told him, that I had made such rapid progress, that there was no necessity for my continuing my studies, and that he now considered it desirable that I should decide what course I should adopt in life.

I knew my uncle must have already made up his mind, and so considered it desirable that I should tell him that I had not sufficient experience to make any selection, but would rather follow his advice.

“Then,” said my uncle, “what do you think of coming into my office, and learning the business which I have followed with tolerable success? The army is poor pay, and often great hardship. The Indian Civil Service is better, but I think you are too old for that, and I don’t know any other line that would suit you. You can live here with me as long as you find it comfortable, and perhaps in time you may take my place.”

During the whole of my residence with my uncle I had never been to his office, which I now learned was in Fenchurch Street; and in a few days I was taken by him and introduced to the head clerk, who, having received instructions from my uncle, took me into an outer office and made me acquainted with four young men who were clerks. These four young men were considerably older than I was, as far as years were concerned, but their manners and conversation soon caused me to look upon them as mere boys; they seemed to have but little powers of reflection, to avoid thinking deeply on any matter, and to endeavour to do as little work as was possible. They indulged greatly in chaff; but, I suppose, from the fact of my being the nephew of their chief, as they termed my uncle, they never chaffed me. I felt but slight inclination for their society, and before I had been a week in the office there was a sort of antagonism between these clerks and myself.

My uncle did not seem displeased that I had not become very intimate with these clerks. He asked me one day how I liked them. I replied that I found nothing really to dislike, but they seemed to me particularly foolish, and to be too fond of trifles.

My uncle smiled, and said, “The fact is, Julius, you are very old, though young in years. The scenes through which you have passed have aged you, and you look for realities in life. The clerks in my office are thoughtless and superficial.”

It would not interest the reader if I were to describe in detail the life I led during the next three years. It was passed without any important events. I learned the details of my father’s life in India from letters received nearly every month from him. I had become thoroughly acquainted with my uncle’s business, and obtained a knowledge of the largeness of his transactions. Considering what must have been his wealth, I should have been surprised at the quiet way in which he lived, had I not discovered that he had a great dislike to display. He had often expressed the opinion that a man should be more than he seemed, instead of seeming more than he was. This he carried out practically. He lived very comfortably, but even with me in the house could not have spent much more than a thousand pounds a year, whereas his annual income must have been seven or eight times that amount.

I had become acquainted with several people in London, all friends of my uncle. To the houses of these I was frequently asked, and great attention was shown me. It seemed to be understood that I should be my uncle’s heir; and I knew enough of the ways of the world, to be aware that this fact, had probably more to do with the attention paid me, than any special qualities in myself. I was not, therefore, carried away by such attentions, nor did I become vain in consequence, both dangers to which some young people are liable. I visited everything in London worth seeing, my uncle putting no restrictions on me. He was fond of the opera, and we often attended it together, as also some of the principal theatres. He allowed me an income for my work at the office, and told me that although he did not wish to restrict me as regards anything essential, yet he thought I ought to live within this income. After two years’ experience I found I could do so, and one day mentioned to my uncle that I had not only done so, but had saved fifty pounds.

But one event occurred during this period, which broke the monotony of civilised life.

It was on a Sunday afternoon, during the winter time, that my uncle accompanied me, to call on a family who lived on the borders of Hampstead Heath. Some of the members of this family were much interested in my adventures in Africa, and I had promised to bring over a knob-kerrie made of the horn of a rhinoceros, to show one of the daughters who was an invalid, and could not visit my uncle’s house to see the few African curiosities that I had there. We stayed at this house till it became dusk, and then set out on our walk home. At that date Hampstead Heath was a lonely place, and robberies were not unfrequent. It occurred to me, soon after we had commenced our walk, that if I were alone I might possibly have an adventure, which I believed would have been amusing. Armed as I was with this formidable knob-kerrie, I could have felled an ox; then I had not neglected my running, and I felt certain that not one Englishman in a thousand could catch me, in case I chose to run. I did not expect that two men walking across the Heath were likely to be stopped by highwaymen. As these ideas crossed my mind, my uncle said, “This heath is rather a dangerous locality to be in late at night: there have been several robberies here lately.”

“I was just thinking of that,” I replied, “but I suppose the robbers don’t use firearms.”

“Not if they can help it,” said my uncle, “as that would make too much noise.”

As we wended our way across the heath, I watched carefully the ground in advance. Although it was a darkish evening I could still see several yards in front of me. Everything was quiet, and we seemed the only people out at the hour. Suddenly, from some bushes near the path, three men jumped up, and were at once within a yard of us.

“Now then,” said one of these men, “just hand out what you’ve got, before we knock your brains out.”

He had scarcely spoken, before I had lunged at the lower part of his chest with my knob-kerrie, the point of which was sharp as a knife. Shifting my hand to the sharp end, I brought the heavy knob down on the head of the man next to me, who fell as though he had been shot. The third man had grappled with my uncle, and the two were struggling together; for my uncle, although old, was still powerful. Watching my chance, I dropped my knob-kerrie on the shoulder of the highwayman. His arm fell helplessly to his side; at the same time my uncle struck him with his fist and he fell to the ground.

We did not wait to see more, because these men were usually provided with pistols, and after the treatment they had received, we believed they would not be very particular about their use. We therefore moved off as rapidly as we could, and reached home in safety; my uncle little the worse for his struggle, except that his coat was torn. At that date the regular police did not exist, and our report of the affair produced no results. We, the next day, visited the scene of our encounter, and found unmistakable “spoor” of the highwaymen having suffered, as there was a great deal of blood on the ground where the man whom I had struck had fallen.

I was much complimented by all my friends, to whom my uncle related the adventure; but I explained to them that such scenes were not new to me, that the life I had formerly led had trained me specially so as not to be surprised or taken at an advantage, and it would be strange indeed if, now that I had come to civilisation, I should forget all my early education.

Whether it was this adventure, or merely the memory of the past that caused me to become unsettled, yet it was a fact that I had a growing desire to once more visit the country where I had passed such eventful years. In the solitude of my bedroom I used to carry on imaginary conversations in Caffre with my old companions, and retraced my career through the various adventures that had occurred. Weeks passed without my mentioning this feeling to my uncle; but one evening he was speaking about Mr Rossmar, when I said that I believed a very profitable trip might be made to Natal, where ivory, ostrich-feathers, and leopard-skins could be procured for a few beads or some cheap guns.

My uncle remarked that Mr Rossmar had, curiously enough, suggested the same thing, the difficulty being to find a trustworthy person who knew the country, and who would undertake the business.

I at once said, “I could do it myself. I know the country, can speak the language, and should be able to do away with ‘middle men,’” middle men being the intermediate traders who make their profit by buying cheap and selling dear.

“Would you like such a trip?” said my uncle.

“Most certainly I should,” I replied. “Lately I have thought how much I should like to visit the country again and see some of my old friends there. I am certain that there is a great quantity of ivory in many parts, and ostrich-feathers could be procured, as ostriches are plentiful.”

“We will think about it,” said my uncle, “and perhaps it may be managed.”

After this conversation I became unsettled. I was always thinking of the wild life I had led, of its freedom from all forms and conventionalities, and the beauty of the country.

My uncle said nothing more for some weeks, but again referred one morning to our previous conversation, and asked if I were still willing to pursue my adventures in South Africa. He said that I could sail to the Cape in one of the ordinary Indiamen, and charter at the Cape a small vessel which could cross the bar at Natal. When this ship was loaded I could return with her to Cape Town, transfer my goods to an Indiaman, and return home. The whole business, he thought, might occupy a year; and, if carefully carried out, ought to be profitable.

Chapter Eighteen

It was a bright fresh morning in April, that – I embarked at Gravesend in the full-rigged ship Condor, bound to the Cape and Calcutta. The most unpleasant and dangerous portion of the voyage in those days was from Gravesend through the Downs, and along the Channel. Sailing ships only then made these long voyages, and they were sometimes detained during many weeks in the Downs waiting for a fair wind. Then, when sailing in the Channel, they often had to beat against a contrary wind the whole way. In my case we were fortunate in having a fair wind nearly the whole way from the Downs, until we had entered the Bay of Biscay. Fine weather continued until we were within a few degrees of the Equator, when the usual calms stopped us, and we lay broiling on the calm sea during ten days.

I caught two rather large sharks, and had a narrow escape from one as I was bathing from a boat near the ship. We reached Table Bay in sixty-two days after leaving Gravesend, which period was considered by no means bad time for a sailing vessel. Having cleared my baggage from the ship and Custom House, I put up at an hotel at the corner of the parade in Cape Town, and sent word to my friend, Mr Rossmar, to say I had arrived.

Early on the following morning. Mr Rossmar came to see me, and was at once full of complaints on account of my not having immediately gone to his house, and made it my home. The few years that I had been in England had taught me much as regards the rules of so-called society. In England there was formality and etiquette which did not exist in the Colonies, particularly at the Cape. Friendship in England and at the Cape conveyed entirely different meanings. At the latter, a friend’s house was almost like your own: you did not think it necessary to wait for a special invitation to go to dinner and take a bed, but if you rode over in the afternoon it was considered unfriendly if you did not stop till the next morning. I had forgotten these conditions, and so had first stopped at an hotel. By noon, however, I had reached Mr Rossmar’s house, and was received as though I had been a long-lost brother.

I was surprised, when I saw the Miss Rossmars, to find that they were more pretty than any girls I had seen in London. They had, too, the great charm of being natural and unaffected, and to be less occupied in seeking admiration than English young ladies. In spite of what I had gone through in the Zulu country, I was in reality merely a boy when I formerly stayed at Wynberg. Now I was a man; and the experience I had gained in society in London had made me capable of judging of the relative merits of that great paradox, – a young lady.

A certain portion of the day was occupied in making arrangements for my voyage to Natal. I found that a small vessel would sail from Table Bay in a month’s time, and I had made arrangements with the owners to use this vessel almost as if she were my own. I had brought from England quantities of beads of various colours, looking glasses, blankets, and some hundreds of assagy blades that I had caused to be made at Birmingham. All these things were, I knew, highly esteemed by the Caffres, and would purchase nearly everything they possessed. I was not so busy with my preparations but that I had plenty of time to pass with the Miss Rossmars. We rode nearly every day, had climbing expeditions up the Table Mountain, musical afternoons at home when the weather was not suitable for going out, and in fact enjoyed ourselves as people in the Colonies alone seem to do.

The natural results followed. I became much attached to Nina Rossmar, but as this is not a love story, but merely an account of my adventures in the wild country of south-eastern Africa, I will not weary my readers with the old, old tale, but will merely state that I wrote to my father and uncle, asking their consent to my marriage with Nina. These letters I wrote before I started for Natal, as I hoped the answers would be awaiting me on my return.

The month passed very rapidly, and I embarked at Table Bay in the little brigantine which was to convey me to Natal. I have sailed since that time on many seas, but the roughest I ever experienced is off the Cape. Well was this Cape termed the Cape of Storms, for there seemed a storm always on hand, and no sooner had the wind been blowing hard in one direction and then stopped, than a gale sprung up from the opposite point of the compass. Many times, as the huge waves came rolling towards us and seemed to be about to break over us, I thought nothing could save us from being sent to the bottom, or turned over; but the little vessel, which drew only eight feet of water, was like a duck on the ocean, and though she bounded like a thing of life as the monstrous waves approached and moved under her, she was very dry, scarcely any seas washing over her. We were, however, thirty days on our voyage from Table Bay to the Bluff at Natal, and we had to anchor on our first arrival, as the wind was off shore. I scanned the well-known coast as we lay at our anchorage, and recalled the strange scenes through which I had passed. There were the high-wooded bluff on the west entrance to the harbour, the low sandy hillocks to the east, where I had run the gauntlet of the Zulus, the dense wood of the Berea bush, and the islands in the bay where I had outwitted the Zulus, when I was in the boat. Now that I was again in the vicinity of these scenes of my early days, I felt in doubt as to whether I was not more a Caffre than an Englishman. I found myself actually thinking in Caffre, and speaking sentences in that language to myself.

I noted that there were several houses near the entrance of the harbour and up the bay which did not exist when I left Natal. These, I afterwards found, were the houses of some Dutchmen who had settled there.

The wind having changed the day after our arrival, we entered the bay, having crossed the bar in safety.

It seemed strange, after my experiences of civilised life, to come to a place where there was not an hotel, or any house where one could put up. I had, however, made my plans from my knowledge of the country, and had provided myself with waterproof sheeting that I could turn into a small tent, and so was independent of a house. The Dutch Boer, when he travels, makes his waggon his house, and is thus as independent as an English gipsy. I took the first opportunity of landing, and making the acquaintance of the few Dutchmen who resided at Natal. My knowledge of the Dutch language, which I had acquired at Cape Town, was now of great use. I thought it prudent not to let the Dutchmen know of my experiences in the country, but to be quite independent of them in my future proceedings. I made arrangements for the hire of a pony during my stay in the country, and also two oxen, which had been trained to carry packages and were termed pack-oxen by the Boers. I believed that I had so altered that none of my old Caffre comrades would recognise me, and I intended to travel among them – at least at first – without letting them know who I was.

One of the Boers asked me to stay at his house, but I preferred remaining on the ship until I made my start up the country.

The first visit I paid was to the kraal of Umnini, near the Umlass river. I took one of the Caffre servants of the Boer with me; this Caffre could speak Dutch, and I wanted to conceal my knowledge of Caffre for some time, so I spoke to him in Dutch, and asked him to speak in Caffre to the Caffres.

On arriving at the kraal of Umnini, I was interested as to whether I should be recognised by these men. During the interval that had elapsed since I was last at the kraal of Umnini, I had increased in height, and had developed whiskers; the change in my appearance, therefore, was considerable, and I considered it unlikely that I should be remembered. The Caffre with me told the people of the kraal that I was one of the Boers, he knowing no better, and that I had come to trade, and wished for leopards’ skins and elephants’ tusks.

Several of the men who were present I remembered: these men had been with me often, but although they looked at me very hard they none of them seemed to remember me. Having ascertained from my Caffre that I could not speak their language, they made their remarks on me very freely. These remarks were complimentary. They said I did not look like a Boer, but must be a young chief. “He has the head of a chief,” said one man, and the others agreed with him. They also decided that I must be strong and a good runner. These and other similar remarks I listened to with much amusement, but without giving the slightest sign that I understood what they were saying. After a time Umnini came to me, and, after looking at me for some time, said, “It is the young White Chief of the Umzimvubu.” The men who had been speaking about me smiled at this remark, and said to Umnini, “No, chief, it is not him, it is a young Boer.” Umnini looked at me very attentively, but I gave no sign either of recognising him, or understanding what he said.