king a reconnaissance towards Colenso, partly for
reasons of security, partly to exercise the horses and men. Galloping
over the beautiful grassy hills to the north of the town, I soon reached
a spot whence the column could be seen. First of all came a cyclist--a
Natal volunteer pedalling leisurely along with his rifle slung across
his back--then two more, then about twenty. Next, after an interval of a
quarter of a mile, rode the cavalry--the squadron of the Imperial Light
Horse, sixty Natal Carabineers, a company of mounted infantry, and about
forty of the Natal mounted police. That is the total cavalry force in
Natal, all the rest is bottled up in Ladysmith, and scarcely three
hundred horsemen are available for the defence of the colony against a
hostile army entirely composed of mounted men. Small were their numbers,
but the quality was good. The Imperial Light Horse have shown their
courage, and have only to display their discipline to equal advantage to
be considered first-class soldiers. The Natal Carabineers are excellent
volunteer cavalry: the police an alert and reliable troop. After the
horse the foot: the Dublin Fusiliers wound up the hill like a long brown
snake. This is a fine regiment, which distinguished itself at Glencoe,
and have since impressed all who have been brought in contact with it.
The cheery faces of the Irishmen wore a proud and confident expression.
They had seen war. The other battalion--the Border Regiment--had yet
their spurs to win. The volunteer battery was sandwiched between the two
British battalions, and the rear of the column was brought up by the
Durban volunteers. The force, when it had thus passed in review, looked
painfully small, and this impression was aggravated by the knowledge of
all that depended on it.

A high, flat-topped hill to the north-west promised a wide field of
vision and a nearer listening point for the Ladysmith cannonade, which
still throbbed and thudded dully. With my two companions I rode towards
it, and after an hour's climb reached the summit. The land lay spread
before us like a map. Estcourt, indeed, was hidden by its engulfing
hills, but Colenso was plainly visible, and the tin roofs of the houses
showed in squares and oblongs of pale blue against the brown background
of the mountain. Far away to the east the dark serrated range of the
Drakensberg rose in a mighty wall. But it was not on these features
that we turned our glasses. To the right of Colenso