In Northern Rhodesia, British subjects were practically isolated. The telegraph to the south was cut, and the railway--some four hundred miles of it--was damaged in various places. To show the state of remoteness in which the unfortunate inhabitants found themselves, it is sufficient to say that a telegram from London to Buluwayo took sixteen days in transit. Letters from Port Elizabeth were received about three weeks after being posted. It may easily be imagined what dearth of news prevailed, and how even such news as it was, was falsified by rumour. But the excellent fellows kept heart, although they were, as one of them said, "absolutely ignored by the British Government, and had not a red coat in the country." He went on to say, "We have any quantity of men of grit, and about a thousand fellows have volunteered to fight out of a total population of men, women, and children of six thousand at most." So little could reach us as to the doings of Colonel Plumer's splendid little force, that the following letter from Trooper Young, a barrister, who joined at the outbreak of the war, may be quoted. It supplies some early links in the chain of the brave history:-- "FORT TULI, SOUTH AFRICA, _November_ 9, 1899. "I've had a bit of an exciting time since I last wrote--almost too exciting at one time. Last time I wrote was when we were leaving Tuli for Rhodes Drift. We arrived there all right after much marching and counter-marching, mostly by night. The second night of it, for the small portion we had for sleep I struck a guard; so by the third night I was in a wretched state from want of sleep. I was always dropping off to sleep on my horse and suddenly waking up. Moreover, I began to see all sorts of strange things. Brooks and trees were transformed into houses and gardens, and then I would come-to with a start and pinch myself and try to keep awake--a very unpleasant experience. When we reached Rhodes Drift, our squadron was quartered there alone, and we had a couple of brushes with the enemy to start with.