After climbing the steep rocky hill at the head of the kloof, the men resting every few yards from exhaustion, we proceeded some miles further along the range, and again prepared to bivouac on the top of the mountains, but had scarcely taken up our ground, when torrents of rain descended, running into our patrol-tents before a drain could be dug round them. The men having only a single blanket, and that of course soaked through, sat all night by the fires in the storm; a keen searching wind sweeping over the mountain top, rendered the night so intensely chilling, that sleep was out of the question, and at four o'clock when the reveillé sounded, every one was glad to be moving. The wind and sleet at this hour were even colder than before, and though we scorched our clothes on one side at the fires, the other clung to us like so much ice. At the head of the Wolfsback Pass we came up to the 60th Rifles lining the bush. They were half frozen, and envied us being on the march. The mountain tops all round were again white with snow, and on the opposite heights we could see the other Division shelling the deep intervening kloof, an unbroken forest of great extent; the effect, as the shells exploded far below our feet, was very fine. We descended the steep pass in single file, winding through the narrow forest, and halted at Blakeway's farm, where we found the sun quite hot. The almond and peach trees in the deserted garden were covered with sheets of pink blossom. A party of Cape Corps had arrived a few minutes before, under Captain Carey, with 200 sheep which they had captured in the kloof. In an hour we were again climbing the Kromme range by another path more to the eastward, and gaining the ridge, looked down on the other side into Harrys Kloof, in the bottom of which a small body of the 91st and Cape Corps were halted; the long narrow ridge separating it from Fullers Hoek beyond was smoking from end to end with burning huts. We continued ascending the ridge up to the heights, two companies below scouring the forest kloof as we advanced by a wood path so close, that though we marched single file, the whole column had to halt every twenty yards till the front could move on, the bugles sounding the _halt_ and _advance_ from front to rear by companies. We came to an immense collection of burnt-out Kaffir fires, and places for sentinels on points commanding most extensive prospects of the beautiful country below. All round where we stood was thickly covered with pellets of chewed root. In front there was some firing, and a few Kaffirs were killed, who lay in the thickets as we came up. In one part of the shady path, we came suddenly on the corpse of a rebel deserter hanging from a tree; the blood trickling from a bullet hole in his forehead ran down his face and dropped on his toes.