Chapter 330: On the Run
As the East African troops steadily advanced, the distance between the two armies shrank to around 500 meters.
Wiggins was still waiting for the enemy to come into their musket range, but the East African Army wouldn't give him that chance. By 500 meters, the Dreyse rifle had already reached the distance where it could unleash about 60% of its power.
"Open fire!" commanded the East African officers.
With that order, the East African Army launched its surprise volley. The sudden crack of the Dreyse rifles shattered the tense calm between the two forces.
"Bang… bang… bang…"
Wiggins was caught completely off guard. "What… how can these East Africans…"
He hadn't finished speaking before bullets struck the foremost Ndebele soldiers, dropping many of them. Taken aback by the sudden fusillade, some of the Ndebele warriors fired on the East Africans in a panic, without waiting for orders. It was a raw, reflexive reaction to imminent danger.
Their training under the Boers had been brief, and losing friends in the opening seconds made them flustered. Mistakes piled up. One soldier in the second rank, trembling, fired into the back of a survivor in the first rank.
"You…"
That unlucky warrior toppled into a pool of his own blood, eyes wide in disbelief.
Chaos seized the Ndebele lines—cursing, screaming, and gunshots merging in disarray.
Wiggins froze for a moment, then bellowed, "Morons! Who gave you permission to fire? Cease fire!"
Firing at the moment accomplished nothing. At this distance, they had almost no chance of hitting the East Africans, so the men were only making noise.
Among the Ndebele, confusion turned into panic. Wiggins called over to Lobengula, "Your Majesty, something's wrong with the East Africans' weapons! Their rifles have a longer range than ours. We must change our plan right now."
A furious Lobengula thundered back, "Didn't you say we only had to wait for them to walk into our range so we could beat them with muskets? Why have they opened fire earlier than we expected and can hit us from so far away?"
Wiggins admitted, "Your Majesty, the East Africans must have gotten more advanced firearms from Europe. I had no idea. That was my mistake. But this isn't the time to lay blame—we must deal with their attack."
Looking distraught, Lobengula asked, "What do we do now, retreat?"
The king felt desperate. Even a fool could see that the East Africans' weapons were different from the "junk metal" they had bought with their gold. If you can't even reach the enemy's hem, how do you fight?
Wiggins said, "No, Your Majesty. Have our men charge forward, muskets in hand. We definitely have them outnumbered, so losing some men doesn't matter. We just need to close half the distance, and then our muskets can strike back at the East Africans. Let's force them into close combat!"
Retreating wasn't an option – that would destroy morale and lead to a complete rout. Wiggins was sure that if he gave the order to retreat, these tribesmen would run faster than rabbits, making command impossible. Their only chance was to charge the East Africans and hope superior numbers could turn the tide.
Hearing the phrase "losing some men doesn't matter" angered Lobengula, but there was no alternative plan. So he tried Wiggins's idea: "All units—attack! Warriors of the kingdom, follow me and crush these East Africans!"
Leading from the front to inspire morale, Lobengula brandished his curved Arab blade. The Ndebele warriors rushed after him, nothing to lose.
Yet the East African Army saw exactly what they were doing.
"Artillery—ready! Fire!"
"Boom… boom… boom…"
Shells rained on the Ndebele, greatly dampening their will to fight. But as a "warrior tribe" among African peoples, the Ndebele still didn't scatter. Lobengula's personal example roused them—if their king wasn't afraid, why should they be?
Observing this, Siweite ordered, "Cavalry—prepare!"
The East African cavalry drew their sabers and formed up. Two cavalry companies were assigned to the Southern Salzburg border forces, so that they effectively had infantry, artillery, and cavalry—covering all army branches.
Their cavalry weapons differ somewhat from standard European fare. Beyond the usual Prussian Dreyse carbine, East African cavalry carry a "straight saber."
This "East African straight saber" is an adaptation of the ring-pommel Han sword from the Han Dynasty era. It's single-edged with a thick spine and a slight curvature, but basically straight to facilitate both slashing and thrusting. It's about 1.12 meters long. The hilt is wrapped with woven sisal fiber, using sisal's quick-drying and moisture-absorbing properties. The ring at the end has a diameter equal to the grip's width. A metal latch on the scabbard allows for easy waist-mounting.
The form of the East African saber stems from Constantinoo's own taste—he personally owns a gold-adorned "Han blade" made of precious materials. His preference shaped the design used by East African cavalry. In practice, it proved popular, as the kingdom rarely faces mounted enemies requiring lances or cavalry rifles.
They frequently ride with sabers drawn to chase and capture fleeing tribals. Their Dreyse carbines are for mid-range engagements that require lethal firepower. The East African saber, being relatively light and easy to control, helps keep prisoners—badly wounded slaves are useless to them.
Siweite gave the command: "Cavalry—charge!"
Spurring their mounts, the East African horsemen thundered into a gallop, kicking up clouds of dust. Their polished sabers gleamed under the sun as they closed on the leading ranks of the Ndebele.
Seven or eight hundred pounds of horseflesh barreled past each Ndebele warrior, followed instantly by the flash of a straight saber. With a single stroke, blood sprayed across the battlefield.
Lobengula himself avoided a direct saber slash, but he fared worse in another way—one of the charging horses bowled him over, trampling him under hoof. The nearly 200-pound Ndebele strongman failed to catch his breath; he felt searing pain in his chest, then lost consciousness—whether from the collision or the trampling.
The cavalry's impact tore apart the Ndebele advance, unleashing total confusion. Soldiers at the flanks began fleeing. Siweite then ordered the entire East African line to attack. They surged forward, turning the battlefield into a bloodbath. Amid drifting gunsmoke, dust, and the stench of blood, the bodies of Ndebele warriors piled up around Bulawayo's outskirts.
At some unknown moment, Wiggins and the other Boer instructors, seeing the tide turning, stealthily slipped behind the lines while the Ndebele were distracted.
"We're done for! Finished!" Wiggins said to the others. "We have to get out now. The Ndebele are doomed. We can't let the East Africans catch us."
"What about the Ndebele? Should we warn them?" one of the Boers asked.
"Let them die. We're leaving." Wiggins pressed them.
As they say, better your friends die than you. Without hesitation, Wiggins betrayed the Ndebele.
"We'll get our horses, ride west, then swing southwest to return to the Transvaal," he declared.
Together, they ran to their quarters in Bulawayo, where they had stabled the horses they brought from the Transvaal.
Get 30% off on my Patreon and enjoy early access to new chapters.
You can also purchase the next 100 chapters of the novel directly from my Patreon page.
Hurry up! The promotion ends on February 2, 2026.
Read 40 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Canserbero10