with jubilation past belief, everyone going mad
with delight. The original event in the town itself was a very tame if
impressive affair--merely a score or so of people, singing "Rule,
Britannia," surrounding eight or nine dust-begrimed figures, each
holding a tired and jaded horse, and a few women on the outskirts of the
circle with tears of joy in their eyes. Needless to say, no one thought
of sleep that night. At 3.30 a.m. someone came and fetched me in a
pony-cart, and we drove out to the polo-ground, where, by brilliant
moonlight, we saw the column come into camp. Strings and strings of
waggons were soon drawn up; next to them black masses, which were the
guns; and beyond these, men, lying down anywhere, dead-tired, beside
their horses. The rest of the night I spent at the hospital, where they
were bringing in those wounded in the action of the previous afternoon.
At eight o'clock we were having breakfast with Colonel Mahon, Prince
Alexander of Teck, Sir John Willoughby, and Colonel Frank Rhodes, as
additional guests. We had not seen a strange face for eight months, and
could do nothing but stare at them, and I think each one of us felt as
if he or she were in a dream. Our friends told of their wonderful march,
and how they had encamped one night at Setlagoli, where they had been
taken care of by Mrs. Fraser and Metelka, who had spent the night in
cooking for the officers, which fact had specially delighted Colonel
Rhodes, who told me my maid was a "charming creature." But this pleasant
conversation was interrupted by a message, saying that, as the Boer
laagers were as intact as yesterday, the artillery were going to bombard
them at once. Those of us who had leisure repaired at once to the
convent, and from there the sight that followed was worth waiting all
these many months to see. First came the splendid batteries of the Royal
Horse Artillery trotting into action, all the gunners bronzed and
bearded. They were followed by the Canadian Artillery, who had joined
Colonel Plumer's force, and who were that day horsed with mules out of
the Bulawayo coach. These were galloping, and, considering the distance
all had come, both horses and mules looked wonderfully fit and well.
Most of the former, with the appearance of short-tailed English hunters,
were stepping gaily out. The Imperial Light Horse and the Diamond Fields
Horse, the latter distinguished by feathers in their felt hats, brought
up the procession. Everybody ch