We must return to Lord Chelmsford and the column which he had led forth in the morning to the support of Major Dartnell. Between six and seven in the morning the general had joined the force, which had bivouacked out during the night, and operations against what was then supposed to be the main portion of the Zulu army were at once commenced. The mounted infantry were despatched to the left front to press the enemy seen in the distance, while the general with the main body and the guns, protected on the right by the police and volunteers, moved up the valley against the position which had checked Dartnell on the previous day. That “kloof” was now found deserted, but a strong force was seen to be established on the mountain spurs. It was engaged and driven back with heavy loss. Everywhere the English troops gained ground; everywhere the Zulus retired before them. But it is more than probable that the retirement was a piece of elaborate strategy, intended to draw the general farther and farther away from his camp and thus reduce the force available for its defence. Whether such was the case or not, the result was the same, and at midday the general found himself twelve miles from Insandhlwana, looking for a spot on which to form a second camp. Several messengers had been despatched to him by Colonel Pulleine, telling of the threatened attack, but by fatal mischance none of them reached him. Between twelve and one reports were brought in by scouts that firing had been heard at Insandhlwana, but when, from the top of a hill, careful examination had been made with a powerful telescope, nothing unusual could be detected, and, consequently, no uneasiness was felt. The presence of large bodies of Zulus on the plain which had been traversed in the morning was now announced, and Lord Chelmsford resolved to retrace his steps with the mounted men and the native contingent, leaving the artillery and the second battalion of the 24th in bivouac. At four p.m., when he was within six miles of the camp, a solitary horseman met him, reeling in his saddle and riding at a foot’s pace. It was Commandant Lonsdale, who, having been taken ill with fever in the morning, had sought medical aid. He brought the ghastly news, “The camp is in possession of the enemy.” It appeared that when, riding in the half-lethargy of sickness, he was entering the camp, he was startled by a shot fired at him. He looked up and saw, sitting in and around the tents, groups of redcoats. He then saw a gigantic Zulu stalking out of a tent with a blood-smeared assegai in his hand. Looking more carefully, he saw that the wearers of the red coats were black men, and black men only. The real state of the case flashed upon his mind, and he turned and galloped off under a scattered fire. Providentially he was not hit, and was able to meet the general and prevent him from riding with his staff into the trap of destruction.