The rear bugle sounded "halt," while the knapsack and cartouche-belt
were detached from the gallant soldier, whose body was left by the side
of his enemy.
We marched until 10.15 A.M., having fought nearly the whole way, and
expended a frightful amount of ammunition. We had now arrived at our old
halting-place, Chorobeze twenty-seven miles from Masindi.
My men had become so extravagant of their cartridges that I was forced
to interfere. If this nervousness should continue, we should be soon
left without ammunition, and every soul would be massacred.
I therefore mustered the troops, and examined all their pouches. Some of
the advance-guard had fired away eighty rounds each, only during the
morning's march!
Many had fired fifty rounds! The muskets had not used so many, owing to
the greater difficulty of loading, but they also had been frightfully
extravagant.
The men had come to the conclusion that the only plan of marching in
safety through the high grass, which was full of unseen enemies, was to
constitute themselves into a sort of infernal machine, that would be
perpetually emitting fire and bullets on all sides.
