"In September, 1847, a party of five officers, consisting of Captain Baker (whose promotion to the rank of Major was received shortly after his death), Lieutenant Faunt, Ensign Burnop, Dr Campbell, of the 73rd Regiment, and Dr Loch, of the 7th Dragoon Guards, set out from Fort Wellington, to determine a wager which had been made concerning the locality of a hill which, from that place, may be observed as exhibiting a very remarkable resemblance to Table Mountain--one party maintaining the opinion that it was situated on the north, the other, that it was on the south side of the River Kei. With light hearts, and jocund spirits, they may easily be imagined to have parted from those companions they were destined never to meet again; and also, after having reached in safety the end of their journey, to have been returning in happy anticipation of the merry welcome their comrades would afford them with the intelligence they had obtained; when, in passing through a ravine by a narrow pathway, where they could travel only in file, they were waylaid by a vast number of Kaffirs, and literally cut to pieces. They fell, 'tis true, as British officers under similar circumstances ever will fall,--together; and bravely and strongly contending against numbers sufficient to combat with a battalion; but the determination, self-devotion, and bravery of such a defence only increases our admiration of their characters, and redoubles in poignancy the sincerity of regret. "Around the fatal spot were scattered many ghastly evidences how dearly they had sold their lives, but on the same ground also were too evidently portrayed the characters and dispositions of their assassins, by the awful spectacle of horror and blood which was spread out before the beholders. It would be vain, or at least unfit, to attempt describing such a scene; humanity would revolt and shudder at the detail, and it is enough (if not more than sufficient) to say, that the detached limbs, and mutilated members of those who a few hours before were happy, and in manly vigour, were gathered from different and distant places, into the great coats of the infuriated and sorrowing soldiers, who unhappily arrived too late for the relief of their murdered officers. `Vengeance belongeth not to man,' yet the human heart cannot know of such barbarity, without feeling at the same time satisfied, when assured, that an awful retribution was visited upon its perpetrators.