Then we set to work on the laager.  The waggons, of which, including my two, there were ten, were drawn into the form of a square, and the disselboom of each securely lashed with reims to the underworks of that in front of it.  The wheels also were locked, and the space between the ground and the bed-planks of the waggons was stuffed with branches of the “wait-a-bit” thorn that fortunately grew near in considerable quantities.  In this way a barrier was formed of no mean strength as against a foe unprovided with firearms, places being left for the men to fire from.  In a little over an hour everything was done that could be done, and a discussion arose as to the disposal of the cattle, which had been driven up close to the camp.  Some of the Boers were anxious to get them into the laager, small as it was, or at least as many of them as it would hold.  I argued strongly against this, pointing out that the brutes would probably be seized with panic as soon as the firing began, and trample the defenders of the laager under foot.  As an alternative plan I suggested that some of the native servants should drive the herd along the valley of the river till they reached a friendly tribe or some other place of safety.  Of course, if the Zulus saw them they would be taken, but the nature of the ground was favourable, and it was possible that they might escape if they started at once.  The proposition was promptly agreed to, and, what is more, it was settled that one Dutchman and such of the women and children as could travel should go with them.  In half an hour’s time twelve of them started with the natives, the Boer in charge, and the cattle.  Three of my own men went with the latter, the three others and Indaba-zimbi stopped with me in the laager.

The parting was a heart-breaking scene, upon which I do not care to dwell.  The women wept, the men groaned, and the children looked on with scared white faces.  At length they were gone, and I for one was thankful of it.  There remained in the laager seventeen white men, four natives, the two Boer fraus who were too stout to travel, the woman in childbed and her baby, and Hans Bother’s little daughter Tota, whom he could not make up his mind to part with.  Happily her mother was already dead.  And here I may state that ten of the women and children, together with about half of the cattle, escaped.  The Zulu Impi never saw them, and on the third day of travel they came to the fortified place of a Griqua chief, who sheltered them on receiving half the cattle in payment.  Thence by slow degrees they journeyed down to the Cape Colony, reaching a civilized region within a little more than a year from the date of the attack on the laager.