About two and a half miles from Block Drift the enemy were strongly posted on a sugar-loaf, bush-clad hill, at the base of which the road passed; here there was some severe fighting, and the rear of the column was at one time very hard pressed. To do the Caffres justice, it must be confessed that they exhibited undeniable courage, and returned again and again to the attack; and that in the face of a destructive artillery and musketry fire, such as might well have daunted even European troops. The passage of the Chumie River was not effected without considerable difficulty and delay, for the banks being precipitous and slippery, many of the waggons stuck fast in the bed of the stream, and had to be hauled up on "terra firma" by the soldiers--the bullocks not being equal to the task. All this time the fighting in rear of the column was going on with unabated fury, until at last, the ammunition of the infantry of the rear-guard failing, volunteers were called for from the cavalry corps to relieve them. The troopers of the "Black Horse," and of the Cape Rifles readily responded to the call, and, the required number having been selected from amongst those who stepped to the front, they dismounted and doubled back to the rear. The Caffre chiefs now began to think they had had enough of it; their losses had been very heavy, and they had only captured one waggon-- which, as it turned out, they had much better have left alone; so their attacks became less furious, and at length they were finally repulsed. By that time the last of the waggons had been brought across the Chumie River, and Colonel Somerset continuing his march reached Block Drift in safety and there established his camp, taking advantage of the missionary buildings. Amongst those who were reported as "missing," after the day's work was done, was Frank Jamieson! Thus ended what may be termed the "opening campaign" of the "War of the Axe." CHAPTER NINETEEN. OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE. When a hard unyielding substance such as a lump of rock, thrown with the full force of a vigorous arm, hits a man fairly on any part of--what Mr Seth Pecksniff, Emperor of servile hypocrites, once described as--"that delicate and exquisite portion of human anatomy, the brain," that man may think himself exceedingly fortunate if he escapes with no more serious injury than a broken head and a temporary deprivation of his senses. And such was the first thought that entered the mind of our friend Tom Flinders when, some hours after he was struck down in the manner recorded in the foregoing chapter, he found himself capable of thinking at all--in other words, when he so far recovered from the stunning effects of the blow he had received as to be able to realise the fact that he was still in the land of the living.