hem. Our
regiment was the first to cross the river on the left flank,
and my company was the first to get over. We advanced along the
river and drove the Boers before us; but, unfortunately, our
big guns dropped two or three shells uncomfortably close to us,
entirely by mistake. When the first of these shells fell, I was
only about ten yards past the spot. About twenty of our men
were killed by the Boer bullets; and our regiment, I think,
sustained the heaviest loss of any that took part in the fight.
I felt a bit frightened when I first went into battle, but as
the day advanced I got myself again. My legs are badly burned
by the sun, and are very sore, but I am rapidly getting all
right again. We expect to have another fight this week, and it
will be even worse than the last, so one never knows the hour
when he may fall."

[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF MODDER RIVER, THE ARGYLL AND SUTHERLAND
HIGHLANDERS CROSSING THE DRIFT.

Drawing by Allan Stewart.]

Indeed they did not, and it was a pathetically common experience to wish
a man good luck one morning and on the next to find that his helmet and
belongings were being gathered together--all that was left of him--to be
sent home to his friends. For instance, there was the case of poor
Colour-Sergeant Christian of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, a
hero who did magnificent work, but who never lived to receive the
decorations he deserved. An extract from one of his last letters is full
of pathetic interest:--

"We have been fairly roughing it since we came out here. I have
lost everything, and have nothing but what I stand up in. I
haven't had the kilt off since we landed from the boat three
weeks ago, and we consider it very lucky if we can manage to
get a wash once a week. Just now we are all right, as the river
is close at hand. You wouldn't know the regiment now if you saw
us; we are brown all over. They have taken our sporrans away
and covered our kilts with khaki cloth; in fact, I believe they
will be making us dye our whiskers khaki colour next. Not a man
has shaved since we left Dublin, so you can imagine what we are
like. I haven't said anything about the battle, as I am sure
you will know more about it at home than we do here. It may
seem strange, but it is true. The people at home know more
about what is going on th