Company Of Spears

the palisade Gaika’s cattle were herded at night, and in the middle was the chief’s own hut encircled by a smaller thorn thicket. Hervey and Fairbrother had not been invited into the sanctum when they visited the winter kraal three months before, but now they stood in Gaika’s clay-floored courtyard with Colonel Somerset and his staff, welcome-mead in hand and with the unquestionable authority that a regiment of redcoats and several hundred horse conferred.

Gaika spoke freely and with animation. Colonel Somerset’s interpreters – one Dutch, the other Hottentot – struggled to keep up with him.

‘He’s not saying that,’ whispered Fairbrother. ‘That’s not what he means.’

Hervey leaned closer to him. ‘What is he saying?’

‘He speaks the conditional: they are translating as if he spoke an intention.’

Hervey was resolved not to stand on ceremony. He edged forward from the back of the party to where he might have Somerset’s ear.

‘A word, Colonel, if I may?’

Somerset heard but did not move a muscle. Hervey knew well enough the courtesies in front of a man such as Gaika; he would just have to wait.

After ten minutes, as Gaika sat down and motioned for more mead to be brought, Somerset turned to him. ‘Colonel Hervey, your intrusion is not apt.’

Hervey bit his lip. ‘Fairbrother says you are not being served faithfully by the interpreters. They give the impression of Gaika’s concurrence with what you ask of them, whereas he speaks conditionally.’

Somerset checked his instincts to curse Fairbrother for his impudence: if what ‘the half-caste’ said were so then it changed the conclusions he was coming to. He bowed to Gaika, turned and beckoned Fairbrother to him.

‘What is all this?’

‘Colonel, Gaika is not saying that he will not cross into the colony, and that he will oppose the Zulu, he is saying that he would if he were able to persuade the elders of the Xhosa to muster their warriors, and if the men in red and the horses fight alongside him.’

Colonel Somerset looked dismayed. ‘You are sure?’

‘I am. And he implies he had already taken an unfortunate decision – I suspect to throw in with Shaka. He said Ngebe silahlekile ukuba ubungasibonisanga indlela: “we would have got lost if you had not shown us the way.” ‘

Somerset thought for a moment. ‘Come with me.’

Hervey followed too.

Gaika smiled, and invited them to sit on hides next to him. They drank more mead, and he revealed that he recognized Hervey, and Fairbrother (whom he called njengomXhosa – ‘like a Xhosa’).

‘Ndisafunda, mhlekazi,’ replied Fairbrother, raising his palms.

Colonel Somerset looked at him.

‘I said that I was still learning.’

But Gaika smiled. He liked mhlekazi – ‘big handsome one’. He turned to Somerset. ‘This man we shall speak through,’ he said decidedly.

Fairbrother relayed the sentiment to Somerset, who nodded.

He did not wait to be asked by either party. ‘‘Mhlekazi, if you are able to muster all the warriors, how many will they be?’

Colonel Somerset looked affronted. But he did not speak.

Gaika told him twenty thousand, though Fairbrother told Somerset he thought he exaggerated. And Gaika spoke with increasing warmth. He and Fairbrother talked as if equals for a quarter of an hour, during which Somerset – with unexpected patience, thought Hervey – remained content to listen without understanding.

At length Fairbrother turned to Somerset. ‘I believe I now have it. Gaika can muster seven thousand warriors at his own call, and his two vassal chiefs a further ten. He speaks of the Zulu in most measured terms, however. He says it had first been his intention in the event that they invade the Xhosa territory to hide all his corn and drive the cattle, of which he has twenty thousand head, towards the Keiskama. He says the Tambooka tribe, whose territory is nearest the Zulu, have already lost much of their cattle and are powerless to resist. When I told him he would have the immediate support of a thousand of the King’s troops, and artillery, he expressed himself willing to meet the Zulu in battle, and not to cross the Keiskama.’

Somerset’s mouth fell open. ‘You told him we would support his warriors?’

‘I did. But it was a mere matter of pride. He would do precisely what you wanted him to do were we to confront the Zulu. He puts on a brave face, but he is terrified for his life.’

Somerset said nothing.

Fairbrother waited. He had said all there was to say to Gaika; if Somerset wished to repudiate the offer…

The commander of the Kaffraria Field Force braced himself. ‘Very well. Please ask Chief Gaika when we may march.’

Hervey’s head swam as he sat down in a camp chair in the welcome shade of his tent. The Xhosa mead had been strong, and the sun had seemed twice its usual power. Johnson brought him the blackest coffee, and he opened his journal and picked up his pen, as he had intended to do before Gaika had invited – summoned – the officers to feast.

29th December 1827

The country is so very like the Wiltshire plain that at times I almost imagined to see Dan Coates riding to his sheep. The march from Grahams-town, nine days, has been uncommonly tiring though, two hundred and thirty miles is the reckoning. Not so great a distance, perhaps, compared with marches in India, and the Peninsula, but the going has not been easy for the men of the 55th, and the waggons have frequently fallen behind. The artillery is six guns: four 9-pdrs and two 6-pdrs, drawn by oxen, and are a day’s march to our rear. I cannot but think that a pair of galloper guns would be of better service, and were the troop to remain long in the Cape I should have a pair made. Our horses are good doers, perhaps better so than would have been the troopers brought from England, and our sick have been few. Private Attewell was left with an orderly two days ago at the Kei River, very sick of a sting.E.F. has been sent to find Dundas – the excellent fellow from Graham’s-town who is sent to speak with Shaka Zulu – to tell him what Somerset has decided. We are now to rest here a day while the artillery rejoins and Gaika sends word to his other chiefs…

‘ ’Ow’d tha like thi steak, then, sir?’ Johnson had left Hervey in peace with his journal for half an hour. He considered that to be more than enough time spent on a book of any description, even the Bible (on which he spent no time at all; but the Bible he knew to be special).

Hervey looked at him, puzzled. ‘I said that I have eaten enough for three men already.’

Johnson was equally puzzled. ‘That’s what ah said, sir: were it good?’

Hervey’s brow furrowed deeper. It was a trivial matter, but he was not going to let it pass. ‘No, Johnson, you said, “How would I like my steak?” ‘

‘Ah didn’t! I asked ‘ow’d tha like thi steak!’

Hervey’s mouth fell open. ‘Precisely!’

‘What, sir?’

Hervey sighed, thinking. ‘A moment. How would you ask, “How did you like your steak”?’ ‘‘Ow’d tha like thi steak.’

‘And how would you ask, “How would you like your steak”?’

‘‘Ow’d tha like thi steak.’

Hervey raised his hands, smiling. ‘As tricky as translating Xhosa. You see my difficulty.’