CHAP. I. 
MY EIEST PATROL. 
3 
There was no doctor with our party, so Paddy McGrath, 
the farrier, had to attend to the wounded. One poor 
fellow had a had spear-wound in the stomach, through 
which a portion of the entrails were protruding; and I 
had to hold this wound open while McGrath put hack 
what was outside. It was a nasty beginning of war, 
and three men actually fainted from the sight—no, I 
am glad to say they were not men, but only three- 
ninths of the species, as one was a tailor, and the other 
two were his apprentices. McGrath was sufficiently a 
doctor to know that the wounded man could not live, 
for he found one of the intestines cut in two. The 
poor fellow died within a few days afterwards, while 
the one with twenty-three wounds recovered. It was 
impossible to follow up the Kafirs into the forest, so 
we returned with the wounded to the farm and escorted 
the whole family into Graham’s Town, as a place of 
safety. 
