striking consternation among them, for they were sure a thousand devils were attacking them. They ran for miles, while.Burnham and Ingram fired their kraals. One of the most thrilling episodes in American history is ““Custer’s Last Stand Against the Sioux,” when that gallant offi- cer and his troopers died to a man, sur’ rounded by hordes of shrieking. savages. A very similar incident took place with the Matabeles, and strange to relate, this great American scout, Frederick Burnham. was an active participant in the fight, and one of three men of Major Wilson’s party to escape with his life. And up there on that third floor of the Union Oil Company’s building in Los Angeles, Fred Burnham is going about his business as if all that has gone before in his life is merely daily routine. Major Wilson’s flying column, ahead of the small British force, was still pursuing Lobengula and this impis. Men and horses were reaching the exhaustion stage. Major Wilson and 15 volunteers decided to push ahead in the hope of surprising Lobengula and possibly effecting his capture. A mere handful against thousands. But that was the way the white man had to fight in those - days, when a thousand white men was con- sidered an army. Rifles and a few machine guns were all their superiority in arma- ments, against which they were often as vastly outnumbered as a thousand to one. No tractors then, no hundreds of thousands of pressed men equipped to the last minute. No hundreds or thousands of planes as an umbrella with which to protect their own and rain death and destruction on their enemy. Wilson had heard that Lobengula and his warriors were just ahead of his little band, so he boldly rode into the heart of the Matabele encampment. There he found the natives well armed and very belligerent. “The war is over,” cried Wilson. “Lay down your guns. Wg wish your King to meet our Induna.” “T will lead you,” said a warrior, com’ ing forward. The party followed him, only to find themselves instantly surrounded by thousands upon thousands of Matabele. Fearlessly, Wilson’s party continued to ride forward, prepared to shoot down their guide on any show of treachery. Now, between Major Wilson’s small party and the main British force of some 200 men, there swarmed entire regiments of eager young Matabele. Wilson decided to push forward to Lobengula’s own camp. They reached the king’s campfires. There everything was deathly still. Wilson’s party betrayed the bravado of the doomed. Suddenly, Fred Burnham’s horse shied. Out of the forest stepped a huge warrior, Martini rifle in hand. He ran in, shouting “Come and stab.” He fired point blank at Burnham and missed. He ran in with his stabbing spear. Burnham turned his horse to meet the onslaught. With a long sweep- ing movement the native drew back and poised his spear, and at that moment a shot from Burnham laid him low. Instantly the little party was surrounded by howling hordes, and “Major Wilson’s Last Stand” was on. The men dismounted. “Don’t waste your shots,” cried Wilson. “Pick your targets.” DEATHLESS HEROISM Time and again the impis’ charge broke itself against those dauntless few who knew their end was near. Wounded troopers and wounded horses were taken into the centre of the little group, as a retreat action was attempted in the direction of Major Forbes’ force, several miles distant. Captain Judd and Scout Burnham led the way. Major Wil- son, Captain Borrow and Burnham’s friend, Ingram, covered the rear. Major Wilson, in desperation, asked Burnham if he would try to break through to Major Forbes and bring back aid, for their plight was a desperate one. How the little party managed to survive for even a few minutes was incredible. | But they fought off the Matabele, taking a terrible toll. Burnham, Trooper Gooding and Ingram were detailed to make the dash through for help, in the hope that at least one would make his objective. These three daring horsemen got through as only the cleverest scouts in the world could. They reached the Forbes party, which itself was surrounded and fighting desperately. They helped there also in beating off the impis and then hurried to the aid of Major Wilson’s little band, but when they got there it was all over. Every Phones 61 or 444 —Signed Geo. H. Evans.” us today for information. 160 Bastion Street President: F. V. Casteyen, Ladysmith, B.C. Vice-President: John Bohle, Port Alberni, B.C. Trustees: Archie Fleming, Port Alberni, B.C. Robert Carruthers, Nanaimo, B.C. Secretary-Treasurer: Leo. F. Le Pas, Nanaimo, B.C. We are a Wreckless Group. 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