“It is a queer business,” said Sir Henry,
his deep voice shaking a little, “and I confess
I never expect to see to-morrow’s sun. So
far as I can make out, the Greys, with whom I am to
go, are to fight until they are wiped out in order
to enable the wings to slip round unawares and outflank
Twala. Well, so be it; at any rate, it will be
a man’s death. Good-bye, old fellow.
God bless you! I hope you will pull through and
live to collar the diamonds; but if you do, take my
advice and don’t have anything more to do with
Pretenders!”
In another second Good had wrung us both by the hand
and gone; and then Infadoos came up and led off Sir
Henry to his place in the forefront of the Greys,
whilst, with many misgivings, I departed with Ignosi
to my station in the second attacking regiment.
THE LAST STAND OF THE GREYS
In a few more minutes the regiments destined to carry
out the flanking movements had tramped off in silence,
keeping carefully to the lee of the rising ground
in order to conceal their advance from the keen eyes
of Twala’s scouts.
Half an hour or more was allowed to elapse between
the setting out of the horns or wings of the army
before any stir was made by the Greys and their supporting
regiment, known as the Buffaloes, which formed its
chest, and were destined to bear the brunt of the battle.
Both of these regiments were almost perfectly fresh,
and of full strength, the Greys having been in reserve
in the morning, and having lost but a small number
of men in sweeping back that part of the attack which
had proved successful in breaking the line of defence,
on the occasion when I charged with them and was stunned
for my pains. As for the Buffaloes, they had
formed the third line of defence on the left, and
since the attacking force at that point had not succeeded
in breaking through the second, they had scarcely
come into action at all.
Infadoos, who was a wary old general, and knew the
absolute importance of keeping up the spirits of his
men on the eve of such a desperate encounter, employed
the pause in addressing his own regiment, the Greys,
in poetical language: explaining to them the honour
that they were receiving in being put thus in the
forefront of the battle, and in having the great white
warrior from the Stars to fight with them in their
ranks; and promising large rewards of cattle and promotion
to all who survived in the event of Ignosi’s
arms being successful.
I looked down the long lines of waving black plumes
and stern faces beneath them, and sighed to think
that within one short hour most, if not all, of those
magnificent veteran warriors, not a man of whom was
under forty years of age, would be laid dead or dying
in the dust. It could not be otherwise; they
were being condemned, with that wise recklessness
of human life which marks the great general, and often
