ery to halt and fire over our
heads, and Major Gough's Regiment and the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, who had
almost reached cover, turned round of their own accord and hurried
eagerly in the direction of the firing, which had become very loud on
both sides.

There now ensued a strange little skirmish, which would have been a
bloody rifle duel but for the great distance which separated the
combatants and for the cleverness with which friends and foes concealed
and sheltered themselves. Not less than four hundred men on either side
were firing as fast as modern rifles will allow. Between us stretched
the smooth green dip of ground. Beyond there rose the sharper outlines
of Hussar Hill, two or three sheds, and a few trees. That was where the
Boers were. But they were quite invisible to the naked eye, and no smoke
betrayed their positions. With a telescope they could be seen--a long
row of heads above the grass. We were equally hidden. Still their
bullets--a proportion of their bullets--found us, and I earnestly trust
that some of ours found them. Indeed there was a very hot fire, in spite
of the range. Yet no one was hit. Ah, yes, there was one, a tall trooper
turned sharply on his side, and two of his comrades carried him quickly
back behind a little house, shot through the thigh. A little further
along the firing line another was being helped to the rear. The Colt
Battery drew the cream of the fire, and Mr. Garrett, one of the experts
sent out by the firm, was shot through the ankle, but he continued to
work his gun. Captain Hill walked up and down his battery exposing
himself with great delight, and showing that he was a very worthy
representative of an Irish constituency.

I happened to pass along the line on some duty or other when I noticed
my younger brother, whose keen desire to take some part in the public
quarrel had led me, in spite of misgivings, to procure him a
lieutenancy, lying on the ground, with his troop. As I approached I saw
him start in the quick, peculiar manner of a stricken man. I asked him
at once whether he was hurt, and he said something--he thought it must
be a bullet--had hit him on the gaiter and numbed his leg. He was quite
sure it had not gone in, but when we had carried him away we found--as I
expected--that he was shot through the leg. The wound was not serious,
but the doctors declared he would be a month in hospital. It was his
baptism of fire, and I have since wondered at the strange capric