But even in the full flush of success we shall never find among the Boers that eagerness, that scorn of death, that enthusiasm which sweep troops forward and make great victories.
The same day, at Colesberg, an _accident_ (this word is a happy invention of General French's to denote a reverse) cost the English 150 lives, among them that of Colonel Watson.
The sieges followed their--I will not say normal--course, for the ill-defended towns ought long ago to have been taken by the Boers. Such was the general situation, more or less, when we landed.
Time passed, the screw laboured round, and on January 12 we arrived at Diego Suarez.
'Passengers for Lourenço Marques change steamers!'
For the _Natal_ is bound for Mauritius, along the east coast of Madagascar. We shall therefore spend the night on shore.
Wandering about the town, we meet Colonel Gourko, whom we invite to dinner, as we are in a French colony. I can't pride myself much on this meal, in the name of French culinary art.
The next day I lighted on a quartermaster of the Marine Artillery, whom I had known in the Soudan when he was only a gunner. He went off to find the other Soudanese campaigners of the settlement, and in a quarter of an hour I was surrounded by half a dozen old comrades. They were all in high spirits, for it had been a day of promotions, and several of them were toasting their new stripes.
I spend a full hour with them, recalling the old days spent in the colony that all who have once known regret.
The hour of parting draws near; several subalterns return to their duties, while my old friend and a newly-promoted officer come to see me off.
The _Gironde_, also of the Messageries Maritimes, plies from Diego Suarez to Durban and _vice versâ_. Several artillery and marine officers, having heard of my presence, have come to wish me godspeed on board. I am much touched at this token of sympathy from unknown friends, for, setting my humble personality aside, it is a homage to the noble cause I am on my way to uphold.
But the bell rings, the anchor is weighed, and we are off. If the _Natal_ was an old 'fine steamer,' the _Gironde_ is a _very_ old one. She was formerly one of the swift and elegant Indian liners, but now, obsolete and worn-out, is reserved for this little auxiliary service till such time as some sudden squall shall send her to the bottom.