TLE OF MAJESFONTEIN]

So seemed to them the sudden conflagration in that first, awful moment.
They started back--a confused, congested mass, with death in their
midst. Their Colonel then ordered the Seaforths to fix bayonets and
charge. The officers commanding other battalions followed suit. At this
moment, darkness still reigning, some one called "Retire." There was a
rush, many hurrying and hustling off to obey one order, while others
were still charging forwards to obey the other. The confusion was
intense, dead men dropping thick as autumn leaves, bullets whirring,
shouts, orders--conflicting orders--ringing out on every side. For some
seconds the rout of the gallant Highlanders seemed to be imminent. Their
retirement, however, was due mainly to sudden panic, the consternation
and amazement at the murderous outburst, blazing as it did in the dim
deceitful dusk, from the unsuspected trenches. These, it must be owned,
were most skilfully concealed at the foot of a series of kopjes. They
were screened from sight by a tangle of brushwood and scrub, while round
the glacis of the trenches was crinkled a triple line of barbed wire.
When, therefore, a deadly furnace broke from this tangle, the troops
were aghast. For the first moment the superb crowd, unduly huddled
together and helpless, threatened to become disorganised, but it was
only for a moment. The Highlanders retired some 200 yards, and then they
instantly formed up, such as were left of them, for out of two companies
of the Black Watch only fifty men escaped. A more tragic scene than that
at the onset of the battle cannot be conceived. From all directions came
an avalanche of lead, sweeping south and east and west in the gloaming,
and flecking the whole visible universe with red. Cries and groans and
curses and shouts intermingled with orders innumerable. "Advance,"
shouted some one; "Retire," called another; "Fix bayonets," cried a
third; "Charge," roared a fourth. Meanwhile Seaforths and Black Watch,
scrambling and tripping over the bodies of fallen comrades, were
pressing on through the high wire entanglements, tearing their already
excoriated legs, and struggling for the enemy's trenches. Here fell
their gallant leader, dauntless Wauchope--fell never to rise again. But
dying he cheered on the men of the Black Watch by his side. "Good-bye,
men," he called to them with his last breath; "fight for yourselves--it
is man to man now." And they did fight, struggling o