In crossing a deep gully near the knoll, which had already witnessed a stirring contest between us, the centre and rear of the column became somewhat confused in the cany grass, and crossed over in three or four broken lines; our third sick man either purposely lagged behind, or felt his failing powers too weak to bear him further, and laid down in the grass, but it is certain he never issued from the gully. We in the advance halted for the column to reform, and just then we heard a storm of triumphant cries, and a body of about 400 exulting natives came leaping down the slopes, infatuated with their noisy rage and indifferent to rear-guards. Doubtless the triumphant cries were uttered when the sick man's fate was sealed. We had lost three! The rush was in the hopes of obtaining another victim. And, indeed, the rear-guard, burdened with loads and harassed by their duties, seemed to promise one speedily. But at this juncture an expert left the advance and proceeded to take position three hundred yards away from the line of march, and nearer to the exultant natives, who were bounding gleefully towards the tired rear-guard. His first shot laid a native flat, a second smashed the arm of another and penetrated his side. There was an instant's silence, and the advance leaped from their position to assist the rear-guard, who were immediately relieved of their pursuers. An hour's journey beyond this scene we camped on a tabular hill, which commanded a wide view of rich plains, for the night--footsore and weary beyond any former experience.