A sad disaster occurred on the Intombi River to a detachment of the 80th Regiment on the 12th March. Captain Moriarty, with 104 men of the 80th, was escorting a convoy from Derby to Luneburg. On reaching the Intombi Drift (about four miles from Luneburg) the river was found to be rising, and by the time the advanced guard (thirty-five men, under Lieutenant Harward) had crossed, it was impossible to take the waggons over. They were therefore laagered on the river-bank in the shape of a triangle; and there they remained next day. About 4 A.M. on the 12th a shot was fired, and the troops turned out, remaining under arms for half an hour, when, all being quiet, they returned to their tents (it transpired afterwards that the outlying sentries had been surprised and killed by the enemy). Suddenly the fog lifted, and a large body of Zulus without any warning rushed on and took the laager, driving the troops into the river. The party under Lieutenant Harward, which was encamped on the opposite bank, opened a brisk fire, but were soon broken, and obliged to fly towards Luneburg; Lieutenant Harward, galloping in, gave the alarm. Only forty-four men of this detachment survived. Major Tucker sallied out from Luneburg, when the enemy slowly retreated. The waggons were saved, and the bodies of Captain Moriarty and his unfortunate men buried. The comparatively quiet time at Kambula was passed thus: Colonel Wood was up with the first in the early morning, and often out with the patrols who daily scouted the country round for miles; his force securely entrenched; himself a very strict but kind commander, who had the full confidence and good-will of his troops. Sports were got up for the amusement and occupation of the men. A band played in the evening, and the singing and laughter in camp showed that all were in excellent spirits. The daily business was cutting wood from the mountain-side some three miles distant, escorts, patrols, and piquet-duty. One of the night piquets (eight men) posted at some distance from camp was termed “the forlorn hope;” its special duty was to give early warning of an enemy’s approach. But the most unpleasant feature in this camp-life was the absence of comfort at night. The troops necessarily “turned in” dressed, armed, and ready for instant work, with the _personal_ discomfort illustrated by this soldier’s joke—that it was “Cetshwayo outside and Catch-away-o! inside.” Lieut.-Colonel Buller, having returned to Kambula, patrolled Uhamo’s district, and in the direction of the Indhlobane range; and on the 16th brought into camp 958 of Uhamo’s people.