Seeing that nothing more could be done to help Buller in his retreat, Colonel Wood despatched a messenger to Colonel Russell, who by this time had commenced the ascent of the extreme westerly point of the range, to retrace his steps eastward, and to cover the retreat of the native allies upon the camp. Russell lost no time in carrying out these instructions, but before he could arrive several natives had been overtaken and speared. The Kambula camp was reached by the column about 7.30. Buller, on learning that our gallant young friend Barton had not returned, and was away on foot with the survivors of the Border Horse, some ten miles off, at once obtained permission from Colonel Wood to go in search of the party. The evening had set in stormy, and torrents of rain were now coming down. Buller had been in the saddle for forty-eight hours, was severely contused, and had escaped death by almost a miracle; but setting a noble example, he obtained a party of volunteers, and taking led horses, started on his expedition. Seven men, who would probably have never reached the camp, were brought in by this gallant act, and these were the sole survivors of Barton's Horse. It would seem that in attempting to follow Wood's track in retiring they were overtaken and cut off. They then attempted to retreat by the north and the Hyntecha Kloof, where the majority died fighting gallantly to the last. Splendid, manly, honest, simple, and taciturn Piet Uys, whose father, uncles, and cousins fought and fell in the old wars with Dingaan! On the evening of the 17th, after the conference in Wood's tent, he spoke in the most feeling terms of his children, of whom, like all Cape Dutchmen, he was passionately fond, and Colonel Wood, with that thoughtful kindness for which he is so well known, at once said that, should anything happen to the father, he would interest himself with the Government to provide for the orphans. Piet Uys could have easily escaped, but, like Buller, he would see the last of his men clear before turning rein. He was last seen with his back to the cliff, standing across the body of his favourite "mooi paard" (grey horse), with six large Zulus lying dead in a circle round him, his empty revolver in his left hand and his body pierced by two assegais! Colonel Weatherly's Horse went into action about eighty strong, and of these brave fellows forty-five were dead, including the gallant colonel and his brave, intelligent, and handsome son, a lad of fifteen, who, at an age when many an English youth is celebrated only in the cricket-field or on the river, had seen more of real fighting than many a veteran in the regulars. Nothing could be more sad than Weatherly's death. At the fatal hour when all save honour seemed lost, he placed his beloved boy upon his best horse, and kissing him on the forehead, commended him to another Father's care above, and implored him to overtake the nearest