Company Of Spears

They had been in the saddle all night. The Zulu had swept over the ridge i’mpondo zankhomo: in the ‘beast’s horns’ formation. Hervey had never seen such an envelopment before. And if he had obliged them and held his ground longer, the tips of the horns would have met and his force would have been trapped in a killing-circle. By some instinct he had sensed the danger in time, recalled the troop, remounted the Rifles and withdrawn in good order to the next piece of high ground. There he had recovered his balance, so to speak. He concluded that Matiwane had used his first cohort (ivyo, as later he would know it) to probe the strength of his unexpected adversary. He had used brave men’s breasts to discover the awful power of the rifle, and it looked as if he were prepared to use many more to overcome it. Hervey knew it would not be possible to stand again in the way he had, for Matiwane could be no fool. He was certainly not without resolve. Even with the speed of the horse in his favour, Hervey could not be sure he could afford a close action when the Zulu were so practised in enveloping.

And so his three hundred had kept watch in the moonlight, the Rifles firing the occasional harassing volley, dragoons and riflemen retiring steadily along their former line of advance, never giving the Zulu a chance to rush them or work round a flank. Sometime after midnight Matiwane had discontinued the advance in line, reverting to the single file of the ivyo, easier to control and direct. And now, at the break of the new day and the veld coming to life, as the raptors began seeking out the first columns of warm air on which to rise to their own posts of observation (how Hervey envied them their elevation), they must begin the game again, and continue until Colonel Somerset and his red-coated battalion, with the artillery, the burghers and the legions of Xhosa, came up and delivered the decisive blow.

As soon as they had broken off the first engagement, Hervey had sent back a cornet to report to Somerset, and with orders to return as soon as possible after first light with Somerset’s intentions, for he wanted as good an idea as possible how long ‘the game’ must continue. He was surprised, however, to see him galloping back now.

‘Mr Beauchamp, you were up with the larks, I perceive.’

‘Colonel,’ replied Cornet Beauchamp, saluting and trying not to appear too eager. Yesterday was his first time in action, and his mission to Colonel Somerset his first as a galloper.

Hervey, sitting at ease astride his mare, a canteen of Johnson’s best tea in his sword hand, touched his shako peak by return.

‘Colonel Somerset’s compliments, sir, and would you see the Zulu to the Ox River one league to our rear. He will give battle there.’

Hervey sat up. ‘One league? Only one league? Are you sure? Then they marched prodigiously quick!’

‘Colonel. I came on them just before midnight not five miles from the river. I would have made them earlier but my mare went lame.’

Hervey wondered why Beauchamp had not at once taken his coverman’s horse; but that could wait.

‘After I had given Colonel Somerset your report he said they would continue the march and asked me to lead – he said he was uncertain of his guides – and we reached the river at about four o’clock. The moon was gone by then but we carried out a reconnaissance of the fords, and the colonel decided that he would stand on the defensive there on the west bank. I considered that it was proper to remain with the colonel during the reconnaissance since I would then be able to inform you precisely of the situation. I set out as soon as it was expedient. Colonel.’

Hervey nodded. ‘I don’t doubt it. You did right. How many Xhosa, by the way?’

‘Colonel Somerset said seven thousand.’

Hervey sighed – to himself, but with considerable relief. ‘Very well, Mr Beauchamp; you may rejoin your troop. Smart work.’

Johnson gave the cornet tea as he reined away.

Hervey turned to Fairbrother, who was observing the flight of distant vultures. ‘You heard that? Somerset at the river but a league back!’

Fairbrother kept his telescope to his eye. ‘I did indeed. Very gratifying. Colonel Somerset has vigour; I’ll grant you that.’

‘You might sound more convinced – or convincing.’

With no Zulu in sight, Hervey now dismounted and signalled for the troop to stand down.

‘What do you look at so intently?’

‘Yon birds. I’ve observed in the past that they can be useful.’

Hervey was well enough acquainted with vultures. In India there were so many, and carrion so plentiful, it was their absence only that was remarked. ‘How so?’

‘They’re scavengers, but I’ve long observed that it is the living which first attracts them, not the dead – which they might not always see, though they must have a hawk-eye like their cousins. It is the natural order of things on the veld: the living continually become the dead.’