The looting of the camp began; it was a terrible scene.  The oxen and those of the horses that could be caught were driven away, except certain of the former which were harnessed to the guns and some of the wagons and, as I afterwards learned, taken to Ulundi in proof of victory.  Then the slain were stripped and Kaffirs appeared wearing the red coats of the soldiers and carrying their rifles.  The stores were broken into and all the spirits drunk.  Even the medical drugs were swallowed by these ignorant men, with the result that I saw some of them reeling about in agony and others fall down and go to sleep.

An hour or two later an officer who came from the direction in which the General had marched, cantered right into the camp where the tents were still standing and even the flag was flying.  I longed to be able to warn him, but could not.  He rode up to the headquarters marquee, whence suddenly issued a Zulu waving a great spear.  I saw the officer pull up his horse, remain for a moment as though indecisive, then turn and gallop madly away, quite unharmed, though one or two assegais were thrown and many shots fired at him.  After this considerable movements of the Zulus went on, of which the net result was, that they evacuated the place.

Now I hoped that I might escape, but it was not to be, since on every side numbers of them crept up Isandhlwana Mountain and hid behind rocks or among the tall grasses, evidently for purposes of observation.  Moreover some captains arrived on the little plateau where was the cave in which the soldier had been killed, and camped there.  At least at sundown they unrolled their mats and ate, though they lighted no fire.

The darkness fell and in it escape for me from that guarded place was impossible, since I could not see where to set my feet and one false step on the steep rock would have meant my death.  From the direction of Rorke’s Drift I could hear continuous firing; evidently some great fight was going on there, I wondered vaguely—­with what result.  A little later also I heard the distant tramp of horses and the roll of gun wheels.  The captains below heard it too and said one to another that it was the English soldiers returning, who had marched out of the camp at dawn.  They debated one with another whether it would be possible to collect a force to fall upon them, but abandoned the idea because the regiments who had fought that day were now at a distance and too tired, and the others had rushed forward with orders to attack the white men on and beyond the river.

So they lay still and listened, and I too lay still and listened, for on that cloudy, moonless night I could see nothing.  I heard smothered words of command.  I heard the force halt because it could not travel further in the gloom.  Then they lay down, the living among the dead, wondering doubtless if they themselves would not soon be dead, as of course must have happened had the Zulu generalship been better, for if even five thousand men had been available to attack at dawn not one of them could have escaped.  But Providence ordained it otherwise.  Some were taken and the others left.