On the 25th of March we received a report in Graham's Town, that the Kaffirs were pouring into the colony. It was afterwards ascertained that the Kaffirs were only awaiting our threatened blow as the signal for their work of devastation. They were well aware of all our movements, the numerical strength of our army, and the comparative security into which the farmers had been lulled by Sandilla's message, or rather by the acceptance of that message; and we soon received evidence of the Kaffir's proximity to Graham's Town, by constant robberies of cattle, and skirmishes between themselves and the Fingo and Hottentot herds. The 22nd of April was the first day of serious inconvenience to ourselves. Three of us, our husbands being with their divisions at different stations, were assembled with our children, as was our custom, to spend the evening together. How often had we paced the verandah, anxiously watching the lurid sky, red with the fires of devastation, and listening to the continued and heavy volleys of musketry between the herds and savages on the hills above us! We never permitted ourselves to think of an attack on the town; and, as the Kaffirs seldom risk their lives or spend their powder without a chance of plunder in return, we considered our lives safe, since the cattle could be swept away from the outskirts without venturing into the town. On the night of the 22nd, however, the frightened servants rushed into the sitting-room, exclaiming that the Kaffirs were sweeping down the hills in all directions; and that, as the house was roofed with shingles, it was likely it would be fired by the brand of the savages. Behold us, then, preparing for our pilgrimage across the open, undefended square of the Drostdy ground [Note 2]. But that we were full of anxieties for our husbands in the field, we should have laughed in the very face of apparent danger. Ill defended as the town was, we could not believe that the Kaffirs could have passed the picquets on the hills unnoticed, and accustomed to exaggerated reports, the cry of "Kaffirs!" was no longer so alarming to us personally as it might have been had we heard it before our terrors for the absent had deadened our thoughts of self. The cry was raised, however, and we were warned to seek the shelter of the new barracks, built of stone, and roofed with zinc.