The Zulus had ceased to struggle with their powerful conquerors, and it now only remained to find Cetshwayo, who was said to be north of the Black Umvolosi River, with a very small following. A flying column, under Lieut.-Colonel Baker Russell, was sent out from Fort Newdigate early in August, but his patrols were not successful. On August 14th, a cavalry force under Major Barrow, with Lord Gifford, started from Ulundi to try and find Cetshwayo, who had hitherto eluded all attempts to capture him. Day after day it was reported that the pursuers were close upon the fugitive: they had come to a kraal where he had slept the previous night, they reached another where he had been that very morning, and then they lost “the scent,” and for some time could trace him no farther. They tried in vain to persuade his people to betray him, but this “hated tyrant,” although beaten and powerless, flying through the land now in the possession of his conquerors, had still such a hold over the loyalty and affection of his people, that they were true to him in his adversity, and refused to give him up or to set his enemies on his track. Severe measures were taken to procure by force the information which could not otherwise be obtained. Orders were given to one party of the pursuers that at each kraal they reached, if the inhabitants refused to speak, so many huts should be burnt, so many principal men and women taken prisoners, and all cattle confiscated. Many kraals were thus treated, and so many prisoners collected in this manner, that the number to be taken at each kraal had to be reduced from eight to four, then to two, and at last to one of each sex; thus proving how steadfast were the people generally in their loyalty to their king. On approaching some of these kraals, the headmen came out and offered the passes or papers promising protection, given them on surrendering their arms; but the unhappy people received another lesson on the text, “When we give a promise we will perform it,” and were told that their papers were worthless now; they must tell where the king was, or suffer like the rest. One of the officers concerned in carrying out these orders, exclaimed at the time with natural indignation: “I don’t care what may be said of the necessity of catching Cetshwayo; necessary or not, we are committing a crime in what we are doing now!” These measures proving useless, five prisoners were flogged to make them speak—yet they held their peace. An interpreter, who accompanied Major Barrow’s party, writes: “I had been a long time in Zululand. I knew the people and their habits, and although I believed they would be true to their king, I never expected such devotion. Nothing would move them. Neither the loss of their cattle, the fear of death, or the offering of large bribes, would make them false to their king.”