stand against the fire, the Light Horse withdrew
behind the crest of the hill, whilst small parties continued a desperate
defence from the two big gun-pits.
Nearly all the officers present have been killed or wounded, and it is
difficult to get a clear account of what happened from any eye-witness.
Four companies from each battalion of the K.R. Rifles came up within the
hour, but no one keeps count of time in such a struggle. The Boers were
now climbing up all along the face of the hill, and firing from the
edge. All day about half the summit was in their possession. Three times
they actually occupied the gun-pits and had to be driven out again.
Leaning their rifles over the parapets they fired into the space inside.
It was so that Major Miller-Wallnutt, of the Gordons, was killed. Old De
Villiers, the Harrismith commandant, shot him over the wall, and was in
turn shot by Corporal Albrecht, of the Light Horse, who was himself shot
by a Field-Cornet, who was in turn shot by Digby-Jones, the sapper. So
it went on. The Boers advanced to absolutely certain death, and they met
it without hesitation--the Boers who would never have the courage to
attack a position! One little incident illustrates their spirit. A
rugged old Boer finding one of the I.L.H. wounded on the ground, stopped
under fire and bound him up. "I feel no hatred towards you," he said,
"but you have no reason to fight at all. We are fighting for our
country." He turned away, and a bullet killed him as he turned.
Before six o'clock the defence was further reinforced by a party of
Gordons from Maiden Castle. They did excellent work throughout the day,
though they, too, were once or twice driven from the top. But the credit
of the stand remains with the I.L.H. and a few sappers like Digby-Jones,
who held one of the little forts alone for a time, killed three Boers
with his revolver, and went for a fourth with the butt. He would have
had the V.C. if he had not fallen. So perhaps would Dennis, of the
Sappers, though I am told he was present without orders. Lord Ava,
galloper to General Ian Hamilton, commanding the defences, was shot
through the head early in the day, about six o'clock. Sent forward with
a message to the Light Horse, he was looking through glasses over a
rock when the bullet took him. While I write he is still alive, but
given up. A finer fellow never lived. "You'd never take him for a lord,"
said an Irish sergeant, "he seems quite a nice gentlem
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