through the air in a horrible
curve; the smoke belched, the air was rent by the explosion, the smoke
blew and drifted away, and there on the hillside lay what was left of
the man, folded in the deep quietness of death.

A little to the left the Welsh Regiment was advancing up the steep side
of Alexander's kopje, which was doubly enfiladed by the Boer guns; two
Elswicks firing from the east and a Vickers-Maxim from the south-west.
There was also a nasty rain of bullets. In the long semi-circular
skirmishing line, strung like a girdle round the hillside, a man
suddenly turned and ran backwards for half a dozen paces, and then
tumbled, rolling over and over like a shot rabbit. I saw him five
minutes later when his body was brought to the dressing-station; he had
been shot through the heart. Poor fellow! He ran not of his own
conscious volition; he was killed while bravely advancing; he died while
retreating. The Welsh Regiment was losing badly all this time, and the
ground was becoming dotted with writhing and motionless bodies; it was a
horrible sight and came near to turning me sick, so I resolved to go and
see what was happening on the south side.

I made a long detour round by the headquarter farmhouse towards which
the black mass of the Ninth Division was advancing across the plain--too
late, as it turned out, to join in the action. Seeing a kopje on our
extreme right from which our artillery seemed to be firing, I rode in
that direction. There was not a soul in sight; and when I was within a
thousand yards of the place the instinct which so often interferes to
keep our heads from betraying us made me pull up. There was not a sound
except the far-away bang of guns and rifles. Near to the kopje there was
a garden surrounded by low trees and a hedge of prickly pear. The sun
setting behind us slanted into it and made it appear as a charming,
peaceful shelter from the dust and noise of the battle. I was still
debating with myself as to whether I should go on a little farther when
I heard behind me the sound of a horse galloping. I turned round and
saw, perhaps two miles behind me, three mounted men. The one who now
rode up had evidently just left them. He was a trooper in Rimington's
Guides.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but I wouldn't stay here if I was you."

"Why not?" said the Green One; "no one in front, is there?"

The man spat on the ground.

"Don't know that there is, sir," he said, "but then I don't know t