of the defenders formed themselves into
groups and fought back to back till they fell where they stood, to be
found weeks afterwards mere huddled heaps of bones. Hundreds of others
fled for the waggon road, to find that the Undi regiment, passing round
the Isandhlwana mountain, had occupied it already. Back they rolled from
the hedge of Undi spears to fall upon the spears of the attacking
regiments. One path of retreat alone remained, a dry and precipitous
'donga' or watercourse, and into this plunged a rabble of men, white and
black, mules, horses, guns, and waggons.

Meanwhile the last act of the tragedy was being played on the field of
death. With a humming sound such as might be made by millions of bees,
the Zulu swarms fell upon those of the soldiers who remained alive, and,
after a desperate resistance, stabbed them. Wherever the eye looked, men
were falling and spears flashing in the sunshine, while the ear was
filled with groans of the dying and the savage _S'gee S'gee_ of the Zulu
warriors as they passed their assegais through and through the bodies of
the fallen. Many a deed of valour was done there as white men and black
grappled in the death-struggle, but their bones alone remained to tell
the tale of them. Shortly after the disaster, one of the survivors told
the present writer of a duel which he witnessed between a Zulu and an
officer of the 24th regiment. The officer having emptied his revolver,
set his back against the wheel of a waggon and drew his sword. Then the
Zulu came at him with his shield up, turning and springing from side to
side as he advanced. Presently he lowered the shield, exposing his head,
and the white man falling into the trap aimed a fierce blow at it. As it
fell the shield was raised again, and the sword sank deep into its edge,
remaining fixed in the tough ox-hide. This was what the Zulu desired;
with a twist of his strong arm he wrenched the sword from his opponent's
hand, and in another instant the unfortunate officer was down with an
assegai through his breast.

In a few minutes it was done, all resistance had been overpowered, the
wounded had been murdered--for the Zulu on the war-path has no
mercy--and the dead mutilated and cut open to satisfy the horrible
native superstition. Then those regiments that remained upon the field
began the work of plunder. Most of the bodies they stripped naked,
clothing themselves in the uniforms of the dead soldiers. They stabbed
the poor oxen