Such a day as that of Insandhlwana could not pass without the performance of many deeds of gallantry and devotion, but the actors and spectators in too many cases were left among the slain, and their voices are dumb. We know of the heroic death of Captain George Shepstone, who, having disengaged his men, and finding that Colonel Durnford was still among the foe, said, “I must go and see where my chief is,” and turned his horse again into the _mêlée_, there to lay his body with that of his friend and leader. Private Wassall, of the mounted infantry, gained the Victoria Cross by plunging a second time into the torrent of the Buffalo, under a heavy fire, to save a wounded comrade, who would otherwise have been lost. Captains Melville and Coghill, of the 24th, who were both mounted, saved the Queen’s colour of their regiment after they had fought to the last in its ranks. They made their way to the river, and Coghill managed to get to the further side. Melville lost his horse, and was left struggling in the swift current. With sublime chivalry Coghill rode back to his assistance, when his horse also was shot. Both these brave officers succeeded in reaching the Natal shore, but, exhausted and wounded, they could do no more, and were overtaken and killed, fighting till the fatal “bangwan” did its work. In this terrible disaster there perished twenty-six imperial officers and 600 non-commissioned officers and men, while the loss of the colonial forces was not less severe, twenty-four officers being among the slain. All the waggons and oxen, two guns, 1,200 rifles, and an immense quantity of ammunition and commissariat supplies, were also lost. Of all the regiments in the Queen’s army, the 24th has perhaps paid as high a price as any for the glorious legends inscribed on its colours. Insandhlwana was the second battle-field in which a battalion had been practically annihilated. About thirty years before, at Chillianwallah, thirteen officers and the greater part of the non-commissioned officers and men had laid down their lives for the honour of England. Then the cheers of victory had been raised over the dead. The evening of the second fatal day in the regimental history closed in gloom and unrelieved sorrow.