made before the days of cables； when everything depended upon the judgment of the officers on the spot。
On his way out to Natal from England he was shipwrecked on the coast not very far from Cape Town； an event that some might have thought a bad omen。 I asked him what he thought of while as yet they did not know whether they would escape。
“I thought that I should like to die decent；” he answered； “and spent the time in hunting for my trousers。”
Exactly how I came to acpany Sir Theophilus on his important and history…making Mission I cannot now recall。 At any rate I went as a member of his staff。 Here is a list of us：
Mr。 Osborn； afterwards Sir Melmoth Osborn。
Major Clarke； afterwards Sir Marshal Clarke。
Colonel Brooke； R。E。
Captain James。
Mr。 Henderson。
Mr。 Mor； afterwards the Attorney…General of Natal。
Mr。 Fynney。
Myself。
Doctor Lyle； medical officer to the Mission； and
Lieutenant Phillips； in charge of the escort of twenty…five Natal Mounted Police。
Of these I believe that with myself Colonel Brooke still survives （1911）； although he must be an old man now。 Phillips also was alive when last I heard of him。 He rose to mand the Natal Mounted Police； and had then retired。 The rest are all dead； Clarke being the last to go； and I may say that I am the only member of the mission left living who was closely concerned with the political side of its work。
There was another individual attached to the mission of whom I must give some account。 He was Umslopogaas； or more correctly M’hlopekazi； who acted as a kind of head native attendant to Sir Theophilus。 Umslopogaas； then a man of about sixty； was a Swazi of high birth。4 He was a tall； thin； fierce…faced fellow with a great hole above the left temple over which the skin pulsated； that he had e by in some battle。 He said that he had killed ten men in single bat； of whom the first was a chief called Shive； always making use of a battle…axe。 However this may be； he was an interesting old fellow from whom I heard many stories that Fynney used to interpret。
4 The Natal Witness of October 26； 1897； when reporting his death； says that he was son of “Mswazi； King of Swaziland； and in his youth belonged to the Nyati Regiment； the crack corps of the country。” — Ed。
As the reader may be aware； I have availed myself of his personality to a considerable extent in various Zulu romances； and especially in “Allan Quatermain。” Here are two stories concerning him。
One day； long after I had left Africa； he had a talk with Osborn； whom the natives called “Mali…mat。”
“Is it true； Mali…mat；” asked Umslopogaas； “that Indanda” （i。e。 myself） “has been using my name largely in books that he has written？”
“Yes； it is true； Umslopogaas。”
“So！ Now what does Indanda do with the books when he has written them？”
“He sells them； Umslopogaas。”
“Then； Mali…mat； say to the Inkoos Indanda when you meet him across the Black Water that； as he makes money by writing about me； it is right and just that he should send me half the money！”
I took the hint and sent him； not money； but a very fine hunting…knife with his name engraved upon it。
The other story is that not long before his death； which took place in 1897； Lady Hely…Hutchinson； the wife of the Governor of Natal； asked him whether he was not proud that his name should appear in books which the white men read all over the world。
“No； Inkoosikazi （Chieftainess）；” he answered； “to me it is nothing。 Yet I am glad that Indanda has set my name in writings that will not be forgotten； so that； when my people are no more a people； one of them at least may be remembered。”
I have a photograph of Umslopogaas which was taken the day before his death。 The face might have served some Greek sculptor for the model of that of a dying god。
I think that we trekked from Maritzburg on December 20； 1876； and took thirty…five days to traverse the four hundred odd miles between it and Pretoria in our ox…waggon。 It was my first real introduction to African travel； and I greatly enjoyed the journey； hot as it was at that time of year。
Well do I remember our leisurely progress over the plains； the mountains； and the vast； rolling high veld of the Transvaal territory。 Still I can see the fearful sweeping thunderstorms that overtook us； to be followed by moonlit nights of surpassing brilliancy which we watched from beside the fires of our camp。 Those camps were very pleasant； and in them； as we smoked and drank our “square face” after a day’s trek； I heard many a story of savage Africa from Sir Theophilus himself； from Osborn and from Fynney； who next to him； perhaps； knew as much of the Zulus and their history as any living in Natal。
For instance； Osborn actually saw the battle of the Tugela； which took place between the rival princes Cetewayo and Umbelazi in 1856。 With the temerity of a young man he swam his horse across the river and hid himself in a wooded kopje in the middle of the battlefield。 He saw Umbelazi’s host driven back and the veteran regiment； nearly three thousand strong； that Panda had sent to aid his favourite son； move up to its support。 He described to me the frightful fray that followed。 Cetewayo sent out a regiment against it。 They met； and he said that the roll of the shields as they came together was like to that of the deepest thunder。 Then the Greys passed over Cetewayo’s regiment as a wave passes over a sunken ridge of rock； and left it dead。 Another regiment came against them and the scene repeated itself； only more slowly； for many of the veterans were down。 Now the six hundred of them who remained formed themselves in a ring upon a hillock and fought on till they were buried beneath the heaps of the slain。
I have described this battle； in which and the subsequent rout tens of thousands of people perished； in a romance as yet unpublished5 that I have written under the title of “Child of Storm。” It is wonderful that Osborn should have escaped with his life。 This he did by hiding close and tying his coat over his horse’s head to prevent it from neighing。 When darkness fell he rode back to the Tugela and swam its corpse…crowded waters。 Sir Theophilus visited its banks a day or two afterwards； and told me that he never saw another sight so fearful as they presented； because of the multitude of dead men； women and children with which they were strewn。
5 Published in 1913。 — Ed。
There ong us of Shepstone’s staff during that long journey or afterwards。 Indeed we were a band of brothers — as brothers ought to be。 Personally I formed friendships then； especially with Osborn and Clarke； that endured till their deaths and I trust may be renewed elsewhere。
When we crossed into the Transvaal our expedition assumed a more business aspect。 Greater ceremony was observed and a guard was mounted at night； for we did not quite know how we should be received。 Now I made my first real acquaintance with the Boers； who came from all quarters to visit or to spy upon us。 They were rough folk： big； bearded men with all the old Dutch characteristics； who made a greater show of religion than they practised； especially when Kaffirs were concerned。 I did not like them much at the time — few Englishmen did — but I can see now that I ought to have made more allowances。 The circumstances of their history and up…bringing account for that which was repellent both in their actions and their character。 Into that history I will not enter further than to say that they had been bred in an atmosphere of hereditary hate of England and its Governments； which in some particulars； such as that of the manner of freeing of the slaves in the Cape Colony in 1836； was not altogether unjustified。 Moreover they had fought fearful battles with the natives in the territories they occupied； and learned to loathe them。 The Old Testament too was the standard by which they ruled their conduct。 They pared themselves to the Hebrews marching from their land of bondage in Egypt； while the Kaffirs in the parallel filled the places of the Canaanites and Jebusites and other tribes that were unfortunate enough to stand in their way。 So they slew them mercilessly； and under the name of apprenticeship practically enslaved many of them。 But in those days I saw only the results； and judged by those results。 I did not see nor had I learned the causes which produced them。 Now I know that there is much to admire in the Boer character； also that among them were many men of real worth。 Indeed； as I shall tell； one of these afterwards saved my life and those of my two panions。
On our way up to Pretoria we entertained our Dutch visitors on several occasions as well as the circumstances would allow。 These were uncouth dinner…parties； but very amusing。 At one of them I remember a jovial old boy who sat next to me invited me to e and “opsit” with his daughter； whom he described as a “mooi mesje；” that is； a pretty girl。 I accepted the invitation； packed the old Boer off home； and went to Osborn to inquire exactly what “opsitting” might be。
When I discovered that it consisted in sitting alone with a young woman at night with a candle burning between the two； which somewhat dreary proceeding ipso facto involved a promise of marriage； I did not follow the matter further。 I shou