l, who had had their missiles all round him and had quite ignored
them, as is his invariable custom, strolled up to one of our officers
and the conversation turning on to pom-poms, languidly remarked: "Ye-es,
I don't think they do much weel destwuction--er-er--it is pwincipally
their demowalising effect." The demoralising effect on himself having
been so very non-evident, this remark struck me as being distinctly
good. Our "Wearie Willie" snapped out a remark now and again, and
apparently always to the point. Later, Legge's men occupied the ridge
opposite and chivvied the enemy for several miles; we, returning to
camp, watered our horses and, twenty minutes later, set out on a
reconnaissance with the guns in hopes of finding some snipers in the
vicinity of Hekpoort. We returned bagless. That night it rained, as
usual, and as we had not had time to rig up any shelters, or even dry
our blankets, we came in for another good wetting. At two o'clock the
next (Saturday) morning we had to turn out and stand to our horses.
"Steady, boys, steady, we always are ready"--_afterwards_; you know our
good old British style. But Frater Boer had had a belly full the
preceding day, his losses in killed and wounded being considerable, I
hear. Legge's men swear to have buried eight, and Clements said one of
our shells hit a gun of their's. That night we had the fashionable and
seasonable rain again. (Please, in future, remember we have this every
night, and so I will refrain from too many references to it). On Sunday
we moved off for Rietfontein, No. 1001. We formed the rearguard and
expected a bit of harassing, the country being most favourable for such
operations on the part of the enemy. But they left us alone, though they
were undoubtedly about unseen. As several waggons broke down, and had to
be mended or burned, we had to grill on the kopjes for hour upon hour,
cursing the convoy with all our might. Presently the inevitable question
"What's the date?" elicited the fact that it was the 25th. (You can
imagine the chorus "A month to Christmas!" and Sunday.) Sunday, and you
probably in your frock coat and patent boots, luxuriously reclining in
an upholstered pew, listening to promises of peace and rest, or standing
up half thinking of the good meal to follow, and singing

"I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary, and worn, and sad;
I found in Him a resting place,
And He hath made me glad."

And I, there on those hard rocks, with