tuated
between the camps of Lord Chelmsford and General Wood. Having gained
a picturesque spot near a brook which forms a tributary to the
Tlyotyozi River, the Prince decided to sketch. He was a clever
draughtsman, and had some ability in recognising the capabilities of
positions. The party afterwards moved on, examining various empty
kraals by the way. At one of these they halted, and the Prince gave
orders to "off-saddle" for an hour. The place seemed deserted; there
were remains of a recent cooking fire, and a stray dog or two
sniffed suspiciously at the strangers. Round this spot near the
river tambookie grass about six feet in height formed a screen. The
officers made coffee, turned out their horses to graze, and lay for
a short rest in the peaceful security of a complete, or seemingly
complete, desolation.

But unknown to them, fifty Zulus, tiger-like, had crawled from
ambush and were preparing to spring. It was from the cover of the
river vegetation that they eventually burst forth. A hurried order
to remount, and the crash of rifles at a distance of twenty yards
followed. The tragic scene is well described by Mr. A. Wilmot in his
"History of the Zulu War":--

"At this time the party were standing in a line close to their
horses, with their backs to the kraal and their faces turned
eastward, the Prince being in front and nearest to the Zulus. Then
with a tremendous cry, 'Usutu!' and 'Lo, the English cowards!' the
savages rushed on. The horses immediately swerved, and some broke
away. An undoubted panic seized the party; every one who could
spring on his horse mounted and galloped for his life. There was no
thought, no idea of standing fast and resisting this sudden attack.
The Prince was unwounded, but unable to mount his charger, which was
sixteen hands high and always difficult to mount. On this occasion
the horse became so frightened by the firing and sudden stampeding
as to rear and prance in such a manner as to make it impossible for
the Prince to gain the saddle. Many of the others saw the
difficulty, but none waited or tried to give the least assistance.
One by one they rushed their horses past, Private le Tocq exclaiming
as he went by, lying across his saddle, 'Depechez-vous, s'il vous
plait, monsieur!' The Prince, making no reply, strained every nerve,
but, alas! in vain, to gain the back of his horse, holding his
stirrup-leather with his left hand and the saddle with his right.
With the help of the