At every farmer's house on our line of march, we found sad vestiges of murder and desolation. Whole families had been wantonly massacred by this wild and misguided race of people, whose devastations it was now our duty to check, and whose ignorance is so extraordinary, that I am persuaded they are insensible that murder is a crime. Beautiful farmhouses were to be still seen smoking; the families either murdered, or run away to seek refuge elsewhere. Not a living creature was to be seen, unless, perchance, a poor dog might be discovered howling over the dead body of his master; or some wounded horse or ox, groaning with the stab of a spear or other mutilation. The savage Caffre exults in these appalling sights; gaping wounds, and the pangs of the dying, are to his dark and infatuated mind the very acme of enjoyment. This barbarous race, when they have succeeded in any of their murderous exploits, appear to be so excited to ecstasy, that they will jump about in a sort of frenzy, hurling their spears in all directions, and in the most reckless manner, either at man or beast. They are quite insensible to the value of money, which they would accept on account of its glitter only; while a more shining gilt button would be prized by them as of inestimable value. In short, they seem scarcely to possess a rational idea beyond what may tend to the gratification of the appetite; and I have myself seen them with women's gowns, petticoats, shawls, &c, tied round their legs, and between their toes, and in this manner they would run wildly into the woods, shouting in exultation. These people had got information that we were their avowed enemies, and come to destroy them and take from them their enormous herds of cattle; they were, therefore, driven far into the interior of almost inaccessible parts of the country, where we could not follow them. Some few stragglers were left in the neighbourhood, to watch our movements, with whom we had some slight skirmishes; but, from the extreme intricacy of the woods, we could do but little with them.
The Caffres may unquestionably be considered as a formidable enemy. They are inured to war and plunder, and most of them are such famous marksmen with their darts, that they will make sure of their aim at sixty or eighty paces' distance. When you fire upon them they will throw themselves flat upon their faces, and thus avoid the ball; and, even if you hit them, it is doubtful whether the ball would take effect, the skins worn by them being considered to be ball-proof. Added to this, as they reside in woods, in the most inaccessible parts of which they take refuge on being hard pressed by their enemies, an offensive warfare against them is inconceivably arduous.