had always looked upon as a perfect
fool, who told me that not half an hour before he had got twenty
per cent. more for unsalted oxen and very rickety wagons.
However, it did not matter much in the end as the whole outfit
was lost at Isandhlwana, and owing to the lack of some formality
which I had overlooked, I never recovered more than a tithe of
their value. I think it was that I neglected to claim within a
certain specified time.

At last my wagons were laden with ammunition and other Government
goods and I trekked over awful roads to Helpmakaar, a place on
the Highlands not far from Rorke's Drift where No. 3 Column was
stationed. Here we were delayed awhile, I and my wagons having
moved to a ford of the Buffalo, together with many others. It
was during this time that I ventured to make very urgent
representations to certain highly placed officers, I will not
mention which, as to the necessity of laagering, that is, forming
fortified camps, as soon as Zululand was entered, since from my
intimate knowledge of its people I was sure that they would
attack in force. These warnings of mine were received with the
most perfect politeness and offers of gin to drink, which all
transport riders were supposed to love, but in effect were
treated with the contempt that they were held to deserve. The
subject is painful and one on which I will not dwell. Why should
I complain when I know that cautions from notable persons such as
Sir Melmoth Osborn, and J. J. Uys, a member of one the old Dutch
fighting families, met with a like fate.

By the way it was while I was waiting on the banks of the river
that I came across an old friend of mine, a Zulu named Magepa,
with whom I had fought at the battle of the Tugela. A few days
later this man performed an extraordinary feat in saving his
grandchild from death by his great swiftness in running, whereof
I have preserved a note somewhere or other.

Ultimately on January 11 we received our marching orders and
crossed the river by the drift, the general scheme of the
campaign being that the various columns were to converge upon
Ulundi. The roads, if so they can be called, were in such a
fearful state that it took us ten days to cover as many miles.
At length we trekked over a stony nek about five hundred yards in
width. To the right of us was a stony eminence and to our left,
its sheer brown cliffs of rock rising like the walls of some
cyclopean fortress, the strange, abrupt mou