fortunately Colonel Harrison did not insist that the party should wait
until the Basutos arrived, and they proceeded another seven miles, and
then halted in an isolated kraal in a valley. A worse spot could not
have been selected for a halt, as it was surrounded by long grass, six
or seven feet high; here the saddles were taken off the horses, and
coffee was prepared. Without any search being made they sat down to
make coffee, although it was clear, from the burnt embers, bones, and
other _debris_, that the place had been but recently occupied.

The Zulu was the first to see the enemy in the long grass, and the
horses were at once saddled. The escort stood ready by them, and just
as the prince gave the word, "Prepare to mount," the Zulus' war-cry
burst out, and some guns were fired from the grass.

The horses started at the outburst, and some broke away. Never were a
body of troops in an enemy's country so unprepared for the attack. Not
a carbine was loaded! not a sentry placed! Each of the troopers,
including the officer, was seized with a wild panic, and thought only of
flight,--one indeed had fallen at the first shot. The prince's horse
was ill-tempered and badly broken, and, frightened by the firing and
yells, he was so restive that the prince was unable to mount. Had one
of those men stood for an instant at his head the prince might have
gained his saddle, but all had galloped away, leaving him alone.
Running by his horse, he in vain endeavoured to mount; he had not had
time to tighten the girth, the saddle slipped round, and the horse
galloped away. Unfortunately the prince's revolvers were in the
holsters, so he was unarmed, save with his sword, and with this he stood
bravely at bay, and died nobly facing his foes, who pierced him with
assegais at a distance.

According to Zulu accounts afterwards obtained, there were but five or
six men engaged in the attack, and had the Englishmen accompanying the
prince, nay even had one of them, possessed but the smallest amount of
presence of mind and courage, the Prince Imperial might have been saved.
There is no blacker page in the annals of English military history.

The feeling of indignation, shame, and regret in the English camp, when
this shameful episode was known, was indescribable. Of all the party
the friendly Zulu was the only one who came out with honour; he had gone
towards the river to fetch water when he discovered the enemy, and might
have insta