while Lord Dundonald had arrived on our hill. 'Certainly, every man
we can spare.' Off gallops the Mounted Infantry and one squadron of the
South African Light Horse, and later on some of Thorneycroft's, and
later still the Brigadier himself. I arrived in time to see the end. The
Boers--how many we could not tell--were tenaciously holding the black
rocks of a kopje and were quite invisible. The British riflemen curved
round them in a half-moon, firing continually at the rocks. The squadron
of South African Light Horse had worked almost behind the enemy, and
every Dutchman who dared make a dash for liberty ran a terrible
gauntlet. Still the surrender did not come. The white flag flickered for
a moment above the rocks, but neither side stopped firing. Evidently a
difference of opinion among the enemy. What do we care for that? Night
is coming on. Let us rush them with the bayonet and settle the matter.
This from the Rifles--nobody else had bayonets. So a section pushes
forward against the rocks, crawling along the ground. Anxious to see the
surrender, I followed on my pony, but on the instant there broke out a
savage fire from the kopje, and with difficulty I found shelter in a
donga. Here were two of the Natal Carabineers--one a bearded man of the
well-to-do farmer class, the other a young fair-haired gentleman--both
privates, both as cool as ice. 'Vewy astonishing outburst of fire,' said
the younger man in a delicate voice. 'I would recommend your remaining
here with your horse for the present.' Accordingly we lay still on the
grass slope and awaited developments. The young gentleman put his helmet
over the crest on the end of his rifle, and was much diverted to hear
the bullets whistle round it. At intervals he substituted his head for
the helmet and reported the state of the game. 'Bai Jove, the Rifles
are in a hot place.' I peered cautiously. A hundred yards away the
Mounted Infantry section were extended. The dust spurts rose around the
men, who remained pinned to the earth, scarcely able to raise their
heads to fire. Whatever passed over them came whizzing in our direction.
The Natal Volunteer, however, was too much interested in the proceedings
to forego his view. 'Deah, deah, they've fixed bayonets! Why, they're
coming back. They've had someone hurt.' I looked again for a moment. The
line of riflemen was certainly retiring, wriggling backwards slowly on
their bellies. Two brown forms lay still and hunched in the aba