on
which hundreds of thousands of pounds had been expended, the Boer
commanders would make a desperate stand in defence of their much loved
capital, and so keep us at bay for many a day. But nothing daunted by
such uncertainties as to what might be awaiting them, our men were on
the march towards those famous forts early on Monday morning, and we
soon found a lively Bank Holiday was in store for us. Shortly after
noon, General French's cavalry having worked round to the north of the
town, General Pole Carew prepared to attack on the south and our
bombardment of the forts began, but drew from them no reply. All the
Boer guns were elsewhere; and a little way behind our own busy naval
guns, though hidden by the crest of the hill, lay the Grenadier Guards
awaiting orders to take their place and part in the fray.

Presently a sharp succession of Boer shells, intended for the
aforesaid naval guns, came flying over our heads, and dropping among
our men. One hit a horse, which no man will ride again; one struck an
ambulance waggon, and scared its solitary fever patient almost out of
his senses; one dropped close to where a group of generals had just
before met in consultation; but only one of these Boer Whitsuntide
presents burst, and even that, strange to tell, caused no casualties,
though it drove a few kilted heroes to run for refuge into a deepish
pit, near which I sat upon the ground, and watching, wondered where
the next shell would burst. When a little later the Guards moved
further to the right to take up a position still nearer to the town,
Boer bullets came flying over that same ridge and planted themselves
among our left flank men; but when we tried to pick up some of these
leaden treasures to keep as curios, so deeply imbedded were they in
the soil they could not be removed. Yet they were playfully spoken of
as _spent_ bullets.

[Sidenote: "_Light after dark._"]

This grim music of gun and rifle was maintained almost till sunset,
and then died away, leaving us in doubt whether the next day would
witness a renewal of the fight, or whether, as on so many former
occasions, the Boers under cover of the darkness would execute yet
another strategic movement to the rear. That night we slept once more
on the open veldt, made black by the vast sweep of recent grass fires;
and next morning, after a starlight breakfast, I as usual retired to
kneel in humble prayer, imploring the Divine guardianship and guidance
for all in