arkness to conceal the remainder of the
march. But Colonel Carleton, thinking more of the lateness of his
start than of the excellence of his progress, and remembering that his
orders had not bound him absolutely to Nicholson's Nek, came to the
conclusion at this point that, if, as seemed possible, he could not
reach the Nek before dawn, it would be extremely rash to be surprised
by daylight in a narrow defile. He decided, therefore, at least to
make good the dangerous high ground on his left by occupying the
nearest crest of Kainguba above him, intending, if time allowed, to
continue his march to the Nek from this vantage ground. He therefore
wheeled the leading files to the left, and at their head began the
boulder-obstructed and finally almost precipitous ascent of the
mountain, ordering guides to be left to indicate the point of the
change of direction to the units following the Royal Irish Fusiliers.
When the head of that battalion had climbed two-thirds of the steep a
mysterious and fatal incident occurred. Suddenly from the darkness
encircling the clambering soldiers broke out a roar "like that of an
approaching train,"[133] there was a rush of hoofs and the clatter of
scattering stones. In a moment a group of loose animals, whether
horses, mules or cattle, it was impossible to discern, bounding down
the rocky precipice, tore past the last companies of the Royal Irish
Fusiliers and disappeared as quickly as they had come into the gloom
of the valley. The rear of the Irish Fusiliers checked and staggered
back upon the long line of ammunition mules. The natural timidity of
these animals, many of them almost untrained, had been increased by
their long wait at the rendezvous, and by the fact that they were led
by strange and unskilled men. Now it became an uncontrollable panic.
Leaping round, dragging their muleteers with them, they plunged
backwards in terror, wrenched themselves loose, and thundered over the
steep slope upon all below them. The battery mules and those of the
Gloucester regiment were dashed downwards and joined the riot, and the
whole mass poured upon the Gloucester regiment, which had just begun
to breast the hill. A shout arose; the men of the front companies were
buffeted and swept from the track in every direction. A few shots rang
sharply from behind, and a few more faintly from a startled Boer
piquet on Surprise Hill. Then the uproar died away in the valley of
the Bell Spruit, leaving the colum