Perils in the Transvaal and Zululand

by H. C. Adams

The companions, now reduced to four, for four had been left at Rorke’s Drift, sat down to their meal in a somewhat dissatisfied humour. They were terribly tired of their long inaction, and it did not look as though matters were going to be any more expeditious as regarded the future. They had been more than ten days going five or six miles, and the waggon tracks, it was said, were to be no better. At this rate, when would they reach Ulundi? Not, at all events, until long after the other two columns under Evelyn Wood and Colonel Pearson had come into contact with the main force of the enemy, and probably reaped all the laurels that were to be gained. They were rejoiced when they were informed that Lord Chelmsford meant to send a force to reconnoitre on the following morning, and Ernest Baylen and Moritz were to accompany it.

“I envy you fellows,” said Hardy. “Dartnell, who is to lead you, is a smart officer, and by all accounts the Zulus are mustering pretty thick in the neighbourhood, so that you will run the chance of some sharp fighting.”

“Lonsdale is to make a reconnaissance with the Natal force in the same direction, I am told,” said Ernest; “and Lord Chelmsford also means to take a party out, they say. There will be plenty of fighting to-morrow, I expect.”

“Won’t the withdrawal of all these detachments leave us rather a small force to defend the camp with?” suggested George.

“Oh, they will fortify it, of course, the first thing to-morrow,” said Hardy. “I rather wondered that something of the kind wasn’t done last night, seeing that the enemy are in force near us. But the men were very tired, and it was too dark to do much. But no doubt they will laager the waggons and throw up breastworks as soon as it is light.”

With the break of day, Moritz and Ernest, attended by Matamo, rode off with Major Dartnell’s force. And not long afterwards the Natal troops followed, taking the road, as they afterwards learnt, to Matejan’s Kraal and Malatoko hill. But after this no further movement occurred during the day. The men busied themselves with the routine of camp duty, or were gathered in groups, talking, and smoking, and playing games. The scene was romantic and lively. In the foreground were the white bell-tents, making a forcible contrast to the scarlet of the uniforms scattered about; farther off were the waggons belonging to the different corps, each remaining in the place where it had been unpacked; and in the background was the wild uncultivated landscape—forest, and mountain ridge, and sandy ravine, and rocky boulder, mingled together in picturesque disorder.

“They don’t seem inclined to fulfil your prediction,” observed George to Hardy on the following morning, as they sat upon a large stone under the shadow of the great Isandhlwana hill. “No order seems to have been given for fortifying the camp. Look, there’s Colonel Pulleine, who is now in command, and has been so since Lord Chelmsford and Colonel Glyn left. He is reading some letters, or papers of some kind. He does not seem to have an idea that the camp wants fortifying.”

“He ought to know best,” said Hardy, “and for the matter of that, I suppose he must have had the general’s orders about it. And he, and we also, have nothing to do but to obey. All I can say is, that if the camp were to be attacked by any large force, as things now are, I don’t see how it could be defended. What is there to stop the Zulus? The men might, of course, form into a square, if they had time to do it, with the ammunition in the middle; and as long as powder and shot lasted, I don’t suppose the Zulus could break in. But look at them, scattered up and down and everywhere. Suppose there came a sudden rush of these black fellows from under cover, what time would the men have to form and collect the ammunition? The niggers might pour in by hundreds and by thousands, and cut our fellows up into small bodies, which might be destroyed in detail.”

“It looks so, certainly,” said George; “but our officers are men well used to campaigning, and, what is more, to campaigns with the natives. They can’t have overlooked this, unless they knew that there was no risk.”

“Well, all I can say is, no commanding officer under whom I have served before ever left a camp undefended, as this is,” rejoined Hardy.