The drift on the Amatikula was so swollen that a long time was occupied in getting the waggons across it, and the result was that on Monday very few miles were made. Soon after the troops had crossed, outlying bands of Zulus were seen by the scouts hovering on the flanks, but no attack was attempted. The largest body of these Zulus kept moving in a line parallel with the English march. Towards the afternoon of this day Barrow's Horse was directed by Lord Chelmsford to make a reconnaissance in the direction of the kraal of Makuendo, another of Cetywayo's innumerable brothers, and they returned with the news that they had surprised and fired it. On the previous day Barrow had made a reconnaissance away to the north-east, at least seven or eight miles off, without falling in with any Zulus, whose power of concealment is certainly marvellous. At three o'clock on the 1st of April it became dark overhead, and a severe thunderstorm broke over the laager, wetting nearly every one to the skin. The night of the 1st of April will long be remembered by those who were with Lord Chelmsford on that occasion. Not a sound was heard in the camp, but outside the howls of the wandering jackal and the pariah dog were occasionally echoed by the hoarse scream of the foul birds which hover near a probable battle. At intervals were to be heard the patrols going their rounds in the fitful gleams of the moonlight, which were succeeded by black and rolling masses of cloud chasing each other in the sky, still thunder-laden and lurid. The whispered "Who goes there?" and the almost inaudible countersign, told, however, that the utmost vigilance was awake, and that all felt that England's honour was at stake. At two a.m. Lord Chelmsford, with two of his personal staff, went quietly round. This tour of inspection lasted till three o'clock, as here and there trifling details had to be changed and plans to be explained to the various officers who held the most important points of defence and danger. In front of the camp, but sheltered behind trenches and abattis, were that glorious and time-honoured corps, the 60th, who have no colours on which to record their proud deeds, but whose escutcheon is emblazoned with some of England's hardest-won fields. The General warmly eulogized the neat and workmanlike trenches made by his favourite greenjackets, and passed on next to Brackenbury, of the "Shah," who, with his "little bulldogs," as the bluejackets term the Gatlings, held the right angle of the entrenchment.