leaning idly over his pony."

"It is a half-hour later as the great guns begin their booming; that
solemn, deep-toned sound like the striking of a great cathedral clock.
We moved forward to the top of a rise overlooking the distant river and
village."

"A dead level stretches below us to the river, marked by some bush tufts
and the few roofs of Modder River village. The Naval Brigade have got
their four guns in the plain just near the foot of our hill. They are
hard at work now bombarding the enemy's big gun by the river. This,
after a while, is almost silenced. Each time it speaks again the deadly
naval guns are on to it. At last, when it does fire, it shows by its
erratic aim that its best gunners are out of action."

"9.30.--The naval guns draw slowly closer to the river. Every shell
bursts along the opposite bank where the enemy are. More to the right
and nearer the river our field-batteries are pounding away as hard as
they can load and fire. All the time the subdued rumble of Maxims and
rifles goes on, like a rumble of cart-wheels over a stony road. Now it
increases to one continuous roar, now slackens till the reports
separate. Now, after one and a half hours, the fight seems to be
concentrating towards the village opposite. A haze of smoke hangs over
the place. The guns thunder. The enemy's Maxim-Nordenfelt goes
rat-tat-tat a dozen times with immense rapidity. 'Come in,' says a Tommy
of the Grenadiers who has come to our hill for orders; and indeed it
sounds exactly like some one knocking at a street door. Now the
under-current of rifle fire becomes horrible in its rapidity. Can
anything in that hell down there be left alive? Suddenly their plucky
big gun opens again and sends several well-directed shells among our
batteries. The naval guns turn their attention to it immediately. You
can see the little, quick glints of fire low along the ground at each
discharge, and then the bursting shell just over the big gun on the
river-bank."

"10 A.M.--Both sides are sticking to the business desperately. The
rattle of rifle-fire is one low roar. The air shudders and vibrates
under it. Now the naval guns draw towards the river again; so do the
rest of our batteries. Things can't stand at this tension. The big gun
speaks again, but wildly; its shell bursts far out on the plain."

"10.30.--The aspect of the place is now awful. The breeze has died a
little and the smoke hangs more. It is enveloped in a haze of yellow an