So sudden was the catastrophe, so rapid the charge, that but few of the English soldiers had time to fix their bayonets and prepare for the hand-to-hand struggle. Many a brave heart among the defenders was cold in death long ere this, and sadly reduced were the numbers that strove desperately against the nervous Zulu arms and the assegais thirsting for blood. The savage warriors closed upon the doomed men with a shout of “Bulala umlongo!”--Kill the white man! Then followed a scene of direst confusion. Horse and foot, English and Zulu, friend and foe, in one writhing slaughtering mass, slowly pushed through the camp towards the road to Rorke’s Drift, the road of retreat to safety. But of the 24th, few, if any, left the ground where they had fought so well. The battalion fell and lay by companies, surrounded by slain enemies. When the battle-field was revisited, the remains of officers and men were all found in the line of their last parade. No man had flinched, and all had died as they had lived, shoulder to shoulder. When all was lost, the artillery had limbered up and striven to save the guns, and the mounted men who were yet unwounded forced their way, weapons in hand, through the press. But the right of the enemy already occupied the waggon road and barred the outlet. There was no safety except in seeking another passage to the Buffalo River, and the ground to be traversed was rugged, boulder-strewn and broken. None but mounted men had escaped from the precincts of the camp, and the ground was such that an active Zulu could cover it even faster than a horse. The guns were soon hopelessly impeded, and the drivers were assegaied in their saddles. The long ravine, which has since been called the “fugitives’ path,” was a scene of continuous slaughter, and even when the Buffalo was reached, it ran swift, deep and fordless, an alternation of boiling current and sharp rocks. Not half even of those who arrived on its bank succeeded in crossing. Many were drowned, many assegaied, some were shot, and the unrelenting pursuit continued even into Natal. The only troops which had maintained a semblance of cohesion were some of the Natal Native Horse. These gallant Basutos assisted many in the flight, which they covered as well as they could under Captain Barton, who rendered essential service by checking the pursuit on the Natal bank of the Buffalo.