ueenslanders, the
wild riders, and the bushmen of the north-eastern portion of the continent
have been the first to pay their tribute to nationhood with the life blood
of her sons, two of whom--Victor James and McLeod--were buried by their
comrades on the scene of action a couple of days ago, whilst half a dozen
others, including Lieutenant Aide, fell more or less seriously wounded. The
story of the fight is simply told; there is no necessity for any wild
vapouring in regard to Australian courage, no need for hysterical praise.
Our fellows simply did what they were told to do in a quiet and workmanlike
manner, just as we who know them expected that they would; we are all proud
of them, and doubly proud that the men in the fight with them were our
cousins from Canada.

The most noteworthy fact about the engagement is to be gleaned by noting
that the Australians adopted Boer tactics, and so escaped the slaughter
that has so often fallen to the lot of the British troops when attacking
similar positions. Before describing the fight it may be as well to give
some slight idea of the disposition of the opposing forces. Our troops held
the railway line all the way from Cape Town to Modder River. At given
distances, or at points of strategic importance, strong bodies of men are
posted to keep the Boers from raiding, or from interfering with the railway
or telegraph lines. Such a force, consisting of Munster Fusiliers, two guns
of R.H. Artillery, the Canadians, and the Queenslanders, were posted at
Belmont under Colonel Pilcher. The enemy had no fixed camping ground.
Mounted on hardy Basuto ponies, carrying no provisions but a few mealies
and a little biltong, armed only with rifles, they sweep incessantly from
place to place, and are an everlasting source of annoyance to us. At one
moment they may be hovering in the kopjes around us at Enslin, waiting to
get a chance to sneak into the kopjes that immediately overlook our camp,
but thanks to the magnificent scouting qualities of the Victorian Mounted
Rifles, they have never been able to do so. During the night they disperse,
and take up their abode on surrounding farms as peaceful tillers of the
soil. In a day or so they organise again, and swoop down on some other
place, such as Belmont. Their armies, under men like Cronje or Joubert,
seldom move from strongly-entrenched positions.

The people I am referring to as reivers are farmers recruited by local
leaders, and are a particu