The conflict began in earnest, and lasted so long that ammunition had to be redistributed. We perceived that, as the conflict continued, every village sent out its quota. About two o’clock a canoe advanced with a swaggering air, its crew evidently intoxicated, and fired at us when within thirty yards. The boat instantly swept down to it and captured it, but the crew sprang into the river, and, being capital swimmers, were saved by a timely arrival of their friends. At three o’clock I counted sixty-three opposed to us. Some of the Bangala—which they disclosed themselves by their peculiar cries, “Yaha-ha-ha, Ya Bangala!” “Ya Bangala! Yaha-ha-ha!”—distinguished themselves by an audacity and courage that, for our own sakes, I was glad to see was not general. Especially one young chief, distinguished by his head-dress of white goat-skin, and a short mantle of the same material, and wreaths of thick brass wire on neck, arms and legs, sufficient, indeed, to have protected those parts from slugs, and proving him to be a man of consequence. His canoe mates were ten in number; and his steersman, by his adroitness and dexterity, managed the canoe so well that after he and his mates had fired their guns, he instantly presented its prow and only a thin line of upright figures to our aim. Each time he dashed up to deliver his fire all the canoes of his countrymen seemed stimulated by his example to emulate him. And, allowing five guns on an average to each of the sixty-three canoes, there were 315 muskets opposed to our forty-four. Their mistake was in supposing their slugs to have the same penetrative effect and long range as our missiles had. Only a few of the boldest approached, after they had experienced our fire, within a hundred yards. The young chief already mentioned frequently charged to within fifty yards, and delivered a smashing charge of missiles, almost all of which were either too low or too high. Finally Manwa Sera wounded him with a Snider bullet in the thigh. The brave fellow coolly, and in presence of us all, took a piece of cloth and deliberately bandaged it, and then calmly retreated towards shore. The action was so noble and graceful that orders were given to let him withdraw unmolested. After his departure the firing became desultory, and at 5.30 P.M. our antagonists retired, leaving us to attend to our wounded, and to give three hearty cheers at our success. This was our thirty-first fight on the terrible river—the last but one—and certainly the most determined conflict that we had endured.