h the
savage warriors broke like water on a rock. By degrees ammunition
ran out; only the bayonet remained. Still the Zulus could not
break those squares. So they took another counsel. Withdrawing
a few paces beyond the reach of the bayonets, they overwhelmed
the soldiers by throwing assegais, then rushed in and finished
them.

This was what happened to us, among whom were men of the 24th,
Natal Carabineers and Mounted Police. Some had dismounted, but I
sat on my horse, which stood quite still, I think from fright,
and fired away so long as I had any ammunition. With my very
last cartridge I killed the Captain Indudu who had been in charge
of the escort that conducted me to the Tugela. He had caught
sight of me and called out--

"Now, Macumazahn, I will cut you up nicely as I promised."

He got no further in his speech, for at that moment I sent an
Express bullet through him and his tall, melancholy figure
doubled up and collapsed.

All this while Colonel Durnford had been behaving as a British
officer should do. Scorning to attempt flight, whenever I looked
round I caught sight of his tall form, easy to recognize by the
long fair moustaches and his arm in a sling, moving to and fro
encouraging us to stand firm and die like men. Then suddenly I
saw a Kaffir, who carried a big old smooth-bore gun, aim at him
from a distance of about twenty yards, and fire. He went down,
as I believe dead, and that was the end of a very gallant officer
and gentleman whose military memory has in my opinion been most
unjustly attacked. The real blame for that disaster does not
rest upon the shoulders of either Colonel Durnford or Colonel
Pulleine.

After this things grew very awful. Some fled, but the most stood
and died where they were. Oddly enough during all this time I
was never touched. Men fell to my right and left and in front of
me; bullets and assegais whizzed past me, yet I remained quite
unhurt. It was as though some Power protected me, which no doubt
it did.

At length when nearly all had fallen and I had nothing left to
defend myself with except my revolver, I made up my mind that it
was time to go. My first impulse was to ride for the river nine
miles away. Looking behind me I saw that the rough road was full
of Zulus hunting down those who tried to escape. Still I thought
I would try it, when suddenly there flashed across my brain the
saying of whoever it was that personated Mameena in the Valley