s groping for the wounded.
Tommy had behaved magnificently throughout the long fight, and now
Tommy was finishing the day by behaving well to the Boer wounded. A
rug here and a drink there, and later on the best place near the camp
fire. In the previous five hours, Tommy's respect for the enemy had
risen enormously; now he was treating his wounded with a rough but
genuine kindness positively chivalrous. One might write for days upon
the incidents of this glorious day, into which the events of a
stirring lifetime seem crowded. Our artillery got a good chance, and
showed up magnificently. The dauntless bravery of English officers we
seem to take for granted as a national heritage; but in something
stronger than admiration--in positive love--my heart goes out to Tommy
Atkins--sweating, swearing, grimy, dirty, fearless, and
generous--Tommy is a bit of "all right."

[Illustration: Advance Of The Gordons At Elandslaagte.]

IV

A GLIMPSE OF OUR GUNNERS

Go with the gunners if you want stirring scenes of modern war. You
will not, as so often happens when one goes with an infantry regiment,
spend a day lying on your belly in the scorching sun, while the air is
vocal above you with the singing of bullets from an invisible foe,
whose position is vaguely located on some quiet and deserted-looking
kopje in front. Go with the gunners, and every time you go you will
come back with an increased admiration for them. It is impossible to
tell the result of rifle or even Maxim fire unless, as at Omdurman,
the enemy stand up to be massacred; but with the guns you can at least
see where the shells fall or the shrapnel burst. For this reason the
Vickers-Maxim automatic--or pom-pom, as it was christened at
Ladysmith--must be a most delightfully interesting weapon to the
gunner who operates it. Each little shell on impact throws up a small
fountain of smoke as it explodes, so that he sees at once if his fire
is short or too high, and gets his range immediately; then he can
follow cavalry about and tickle them up, or play around a patch of
veldt where he knows the enemy are lying, just as a gardener would
sprinkle with a watering-pot. It is a most demoralising weapon, but
the explosion is so small that it does much less harm than would be
expected.

Let us take a typical day with the gunners. Photographs or
cinematographs are entirely unsatisfactory in giving any idea of the
"movement" of a battery going into action. There is the