The column now marched on to Ekowe, and upon reaching that place a messenger from the rear brought the news of the terrible disaster which had befallen Lord Chelmsford's column at Isandhlwana. The British camp at that place had on the advance of the main body been rushed by a large Zulu force, and the whole of the British and native troops, numbering over 1000, were killed, only a few, scarce 50 escaping. It was a hand-to-hand combat against thousands, and from the Zulus themselves, for no white man saw the end, come the accounts of how firmly the soldiers stood. The Zulus, who had a keen appreciation of gallantry, tell many tales of how our men stood fighting till the last. "How few they were and how hard they fought," they said; "they fell like stones, each man in his place." There was only one sailor in the camp. He belonged to HMS _Active_, and throughout the terrible fight displayed the utmost courage. At last, when all was nearly over, he was seen in a corner of the laager, leaning against a waggon wheel, keeping the Zulus at bay. One after another fell as he stabbed them with his cutlass. The savages themselves were lost in admiration at his stern resistance. At last a Zulu crept round at the back of the waggon, and stabbed him through the spokes of the wheel. It would have been the height of rashness to have advanced farther, as the column would now have been exposed to the whole force of the Zulus. Colonel Pearson determined, therefore, to fortify Ekowe, and to maintain himself there until reinforcements came up. The cavalry and the native contingents who had accompanied the column were therefore sent back, the sailors being retained to assist the regular troops in holding the place. The first step was to erect fortifications, and, as the enemy attempted no attack, these were made strongly and massively. Here for many weeks the little garrison held out. The Zulus surrounded the place closely, but never ventured upon any sustained attack upon it. The garrison, however, suffered severely from fever, heat, and the effects of bad food and water. For some time they were cut off entirely from all communication with Natal; but at length an officer, upon the top of the church, observed one day, far among the hills to the south, a twinkling light. From the regularity with which it shone and disappeared, he came to the conclusion that it was caused by signallers endeavouring to open communications. The flashes were watched, and were found to be in accordance with the Morse alphabet; and the joyful news was spread that their friends were telegraphing to them.