“I struck the tracks of the missing men at the bottom of the hill where they had last been seen. A little farther on we found one of their pannikins in the road. Darkness setting in we were obliged to return, but not before we had visited the pa at Camerontown, where we found quantities of maize, bran, and oats scattered about the beach, partly burned and rendered unfit for use. We found a canoe on the beach which I wished to destroy, but was prevented by Captain Greaves, who thoughtfully observed that it might be the means of saving one or both of the poor fellows who were missing. We now made for the redoubt, bearing with us the body of Private Grace, which we found on the same spot where we had left it. We reached the redoubt at half-past twelve o’clock the following morning, when we learned that Whittle, one of the missing men, was on the other side of the river calling for help. From our long residence in the colony we have many skilful paddlers in the ranks; in a few minutes a canoe was manned, and in half-an-hour the poor fellow was inside the redoubt, carefully attended by Assistant-Surgeon Styles, of the 40th Regiment. He had been exactly sixty hours without food, and was much exhausted.
“When, sufficiently recovered, he informed us that after leaving the party on the 7th, he and Bryne took the path to the left, instead of following the one to the right as we did. He had not proceeded far when he became unconscious; how long he remained in that state he could not tell. On being restored to consciousness by the drops of rain falling on his face, he found himself alone; Bryne had gone on. For two days he wandered about the bush, trying in vain to find an opening; at one time, while following a native path, he nearly fell into the hands of a party of rebels. He was close upon them, when, warned by the sound of their voices, he crept back into the bush without being seen. A still more singular incident occurred to him the previous evening. He heard the footsteps of our party at Camerontown, and, rushing forward, caught sight of them as they were entering the bush on their return from the canoes. Such was the impression produced by this sight that all his faculties, bodily and mental, were completely paralysed; he could neither speak nor move; when he recovered from his temporary prostration the party had disappeared. For a moment he was tempted to believe that he was labouring under some mental hallucination, the result of over-anxiety and bodily weakness, but it was not so. Finding no traces of our party, he hurried down to the river, where he found the canoe which Captain Greaves had the foresight to preserve. Using a rough piece of board as a paddle, he contrived to make his way up the river till he found himself within four hundred yards of the redoubt, but on the opposite side. Here he had the misfortune to drop the piece of board, and could only save himself from being swept away in the canoe by clinging to the long weeds in the shallow part of the river till his cries brought his comrades to his assistance.
“Poor Bryne, the other missing man, was less fortunate. He wandered about in the bush till he was surprised by a party of the enemy. We learned afterwards that he begged hard for his life, but he had to deal with wretches who knew no mercy. Five balls were lodged in his body, and he was stark and stiff when we found him. My story is now told; every one admits that it was one of the most desperate affairs that have occurred in the course of this war.
“I arrived at the Queen’s Redoubt, and was immediately sent for by General Cameron. I found him surrounded by his staff, but the moment he saw me he advanced and shook me warmly by the hand. ‘Sergeant,’ he said, ‘you have done well.’ ‘And I am amply rewarded by this honour,’ was my immediate answer; ‘not to myself alone, sir, but to the brave fellows who were with me, is the credit due.’ ‘I know it,’ said the general; ‘there is not another corps in the colony could have done as the 65th.’ Nor was this all; in his despatch to Governor Grey, General Cameron expressed his admiration and approval of our dear old regiment in the most complimentary terms, and it was on his recommendation that I received my commission and the Victoria Cross. Corporal Ryan was also gazetted for the Victoria Cross, but never lived to wear it. His death was in keeping with his life; he was accidentally drowned near Tuakan while trying to save a drunken comrade. Three months after their gallant conduct, Privates Bulford, Talbot, Cole, and Thomas received the medal for distinguished conduct in the field, the first two for remaining with the body of Captain Swift, and the two latter for waiting on Lieutenant Butler and conveying him towards the Redoubt.”
“In all this desperate affair did you ever think of your wife and children, McKenna?”
“Not once, sir. She asked me the same question the first time we met, and seemed a little put out when I gave her the same answer, but she understood it all afterwards. In the excitement of an engagement a soldier can only think of immediate duty; when the danger is past he feels how grateful he ought to be to Him who has preserved his life for those who are dearer to him than life itself.”
