Anxious also to renew my relations with the regulars, after my late _mal entendu_ concerning the disposal of prisoners, I proposed a joint expedition, which was eagerly accepted by Colonel H----d of the Rifle Brigade. Four days afterwards we proceeded to the spot in question, and not a Kaffir was to be seen, and even their traces had been carefully obliterated. I never was more mortified in my life; it looked to me as though I had been attempting something even worse than a stupid practical joke. Colonel H----d was, however, excessively considerate in the matter, and affected to be perfectly satisfied--although but the very faintest marks of the enemy’s passage could be discovered. The country being now perfectly free for many miles around, I made long patrols to distant parts, coming at times in contact with small parties of the enemy, but too disheartened to make a stand. One night, in returning after a rather longer absence than usual, I found a somewhat large number of Kaffirs assembled in the abandoned village on Mundell’s Peak. I may here mention that, as I always marched the men by night and reposed them by day, many rencontres of this sort occurred--that is to say, that after pursuing the foe for several days, we were often confronted in a manner as surprising to the one as to the other. I placed the men in a straight line from one edge of the peak to the other, ordering them to lie down, and await daylight before opening fire. Stretching myself on the ground, just in front of Sergeant Shelley, I gave, at the break of day, the order to fire; when, directly afterwards, poor Shelley struggled to his feet, and fell back again, groaning fearfully. He was shot through the heels. The ball that effected this came down the line, and evidently from one of our own men--for on either flank there were sudden dips of several hundred feet, which rendered it impossible for a shot from the foe to come from thence. This cowardly shot, which had been aimed at my own head, the men declared came from Waine. He, however, denied it so stoutly, and no one having seen him actually fire in our direction, I took no overt steps in the matter as to bringing him up for it; but I determined never to take him out again for night service. And on after-thoughts I recollected several unaccountable shots that had passed by me during our nocturnal expeditions; and although I sincerely pitied poor Shelley, I could not help feeling thankful that through the misfortune to him I had got rid of Waine. Shelley eventually recovered sufficiently to go with me to the Crimea, where he died.