of the Mount Nelson Light Horse and a troop of the 21st
King's Dragoon Guards. Pushing on as fast as possible"--signed,
"Brigade-Major New Cavalry Brigade."

The brigadier appeared completely uninterested. He received the
information of his coming reinforcement and the general's latest
orders without comment, and having eaten his breakfast, returned to
his tent. For the time being the brigade had become a cipher. The only
really satisfied person in the camp seemed to be the Intelligence
officer, who saw in the arrival of the real brigade-major an end to
the multiform duties which had been thrust upon him. The brigade stood
fast, and presently, riding out of an almost opaque pillar of dust,
the brigade-major and his detached command came meandering into camp.
The arrival of the reinforcement moved the camp to interest. Much had
been heard of the Mount Nelson Light Horse, which had been specially
raised against Lord Kitchener's demand for more mounted men. The Mount
Nelson Light Horse rode into camp. The gunners, who had turned out _en
masse_ to welcome their comrades, just put their hands in their
breeches pockets and turned away with the single interjection, "Good
heavens!" The dragoons, who were younger soldiers and less versed in
veldt lore than the gunners, essayed a cheer. A fitful answer came
back from the dusty arrivals--it might have been compared with the
foreign cackle by which the clients of a Soho boarding-house give
voice to their admiration of the tune of the dinner-gong. The
brigadier came out of his tent and stood in the open, bareheaded and
in his shirt-sleeves. Soldier without ribbons--frank, open, and
gallant English gentleman. His expert eye ran down the ragged ranks
of his newly acquired legion. He had commanded Colonials during the
hardest fighting in Natal. The Dragoons might not be judges, but
nothing escaped his time-tested eye. He caught each detail, the
Semitic outline of half the profiles, the nervous saddlepoise of the
twice-attested Peruvian, the hang-dog look of the few true men among
the ranks, who shrank that a soldier should find them in their present
associations. The brigadier's moustache ill hid the working of his
mouth. Then the ludicrous setting of the scene appealed to his
light-hearted nature, and, laughing heartily, he turned to his staff
with the single comment, "Gadzooks! they conspire against the fame of
my fair name. There is only one place in the wide world that I can
lead