em reached an edge from which they began firing into our
breastwork at about fifteen yards. One or two of them sprang up as
though to charge. With bayonets they might have come on, but, standing
to fire, they were at once shot down. Among them was Schutte, the
commandant of the force. He was killed on the edge, with about ten
others. Then the attacking group fell back into the dead ground. Our men
got the order not to fire on them if they ran away. It was the best
means of clearing them off the hill, and they made off one by one. The
long-range fire continued all day, but there was no further rush upon
our works. Our loss was only two men killed and a few wounded. The Boer
loss is estimated at fifty, but it is impossible to know.

The King's (Liverpools), who now hold the works built by the Devons on
the low Helpmakaar ridge, were also under rifle and shell fire all day.
About 3 p.m. about eighty Boers came down the deep ravine or donga at
the further end of the ridge. A mounted infantry picket of three men was
away across the donga, watching the road towards Lombard's Nek. Instead
of retiring, they calmly lay down and fired into the thick of the Boers
whenever they saw them. Apparently the Boers had intended some sort of
attack or feint, but, instead of advancing, they remained hidden in the
donga, firing over the banks. At last Major Grattan, fearing the brave
little picket might be cut off, sent out two infantry patrols in
extended order, and the Boers did not await their coming; they hurried
up the donga into the shelter of the thorns, which just now are all
golden with balls of sweet-smelling blossom.

Soon after the sun set behind the storm of rain the fighting ceased. The
long and terrible day was done. I found myself with the Irish Fusiliers
at Range Post, where the road crosses to the foot of Waggon Hill. The
stream of ambulance was incessant--covered mule-waggons, little
ox-carts, green dhoolies carried by indomitable Hindoos, knee-deep in
water, and indifferent to every kind of death. In the sixteen hours'
fighting we have lost fourteen officers and 100 men killed, twenty-one
officers and 220 men wounded. The victory is ours. Our men have done
what they were set to do. But two or three more such victories, and
where should we be?

_Sunday, January 7, 1900._

The men remained on the position all night under arms, soaked through
and hardly fed. Rum was issued, but half the carts lost their way in the