The photograph which is appended to this paragraph was taken during the
course of our journey to Ladysmith. The scene is on the north bank of
the Great Tugela below the waterfall, and close to the pontoon bridge by
which the troops had crossed on their victorious march. Sitting in the
sun on a pile of timbers, which the engineers have left, is a typical
straggler. His company has moved on to Pieters, and he has fallen out
somehow and somewhere on the march, and is following the lost column as
best he can.
The day is hot, and his jacket is thrown across his shoulders. A small
cloud of flies buzz over him. He is tired, dirty, thirsty, and hungry.
Fever has taken hold of him, and he is--as he would say--feeling "a bit
thick." He is sitting by the river bank to await the first wagon across
the pontoon on which a conductor will give him a lift. In the meantime
some good Samaritan is getting him a drink of water from the stream.