an half-longing that they would return again ere the flush of
victory had died down in their hearts. But one such bitter experience
was sufficient for the moment. The Boers hastily rejoined their
friends, and, diving into cover, opened up a galling fire upon the
heights of Caesar's Camp.

Meanwhile other parts of the town had been attacked, to draw off
attention from the heights to the south, the position which was of such
vital importance. But the main strength of the enemy was directed
against Caesar's Camp, and while to the west of it one commando of
staunch men had been hurled backward down the slopes, another had
advanced on Wagon Hill, and had occupied it before the three detachments
of the Imperial Light Horse stationed near were aware of it. The Boers,
however, were raked by a murderous fire of Lee-Metford bullets, for the
gallant colonists stuck to their posts with dogged persistence.

As the day dawned and it was seen that the enemy had possession of the
hill, the Highlanders, Devons, and 60th Rifles charged them in company
with the Imperial Light Horse. There was no denying this old and
supremely British method of settling a conflict. One crash, one
murderous flash of fire, and the hearts of the Boers were inspired with
terror, and they fled precipitately to cover, whence they kept up a
sullen fusillade.

For many long hours the Boers poured a storm of bullets upon the heights
of Caesar's Camp from a long ridge of which they had taken possession,
and then, at noon, they made a second desperate onslaught, only to be
shattered by the field-artillery and mown down by our riflemen.

Late that memorable afternoon, in the midst of a blinding storm of sleet
and rain which only Natal could produce, a third and last attempt was
made, but proved a signal failure, for by now the artillery, which had
already done such excellent service, had ranged their guns to rake the
open ground, and those of the enemy who escaped retired to their laagers
to rest and recover from the terrors of an awful day. They were a sad
gathering, for they had many comrades to mourn, and in addition their
dearest hope had been frustrated. From behind a barrier of rock, and
concealed in carefully-prepared trenches on the ridges north of the
Tugela, they and their long-range guns had proved too formidable for
Buller's army, despite a stubborn and gallant attack. But here, when
the position had been reversed, when a handful of British man