s lost 75 out of 301, but they were still
ready, still bent, if allowed, upon carrying the bridge at all costs.
Their enterprise was badly rewarded. They got left in an untenable
position and were surrounded.

Captain Herbert, Staff Officer to Colonel Long, had his horse killed
under him, while the Colonel himself was severely wounded by a bullet
from a shrapnel shell. Captain White-Thomas, while on his way back to
the limbers to get blankets for the injured, received a nasty wound.
Colonel Brook (Connaught Rangers) was shot, and while being carried off
the field by some of his men, one of these was wounded. The Colonel
insisted on being put down, but Pat also insisted that he was equal to
carrying his burden to a place of safety, and did so, though a shot had
pierced his neck and passed clean out on the other side.

So many valiant deeds were performed that space will not admit of all
being recounted. The irregulars and regulars seemed determined to
out-distance each other in feats of chivalry. Private Farmer, of the
Carabineers, struggled to save a comrade at the risk of his own life.
Colour-Sergeant Byrne, in a storm of bullets, gallantly saved three of
his comrades who were drowning, though he and they were heavily weighted
with ammunition and equipment. Major Gordon, wounded as he was, fiercely
and nobly led on his men till he dropped from exhaustion. The conduct of
some of the drivers was simply amazing, and their daring was repeated
and reflected in the achievements of the infantry. Quite wonderful was
the bearing of these men, mere private soldiers, in their magnificent
nobility of sacrifice, their utter regardlessness of self. Each strove
to set an example to the other of steadfast, almost reckless devotion to
duty.

The circumstances attending the capture of the guns were deeply tragic.
Late in the terrible afternoon, when the red sun was sending horizontal
rays across the blood-dyed field, a strong party of Boers swam the river
for the purpose of seizing the guns and forcing the wounded, who were
huddled together in the donga, to surrender. It was a fearful moment.
Our worn-out, fainting, and dying men were lying about drenched in their
own gore, helpless, and none could move to save the precious guns from
falling into alien hands. Some raged, some wept with mortification at
their powerlessness to stay the inevitable. Three Boers approached them
for the purpose of demanding their instant surrender, and were