nt Moriah.

The early morning was bright, but a mist soon covered the sun. Rain
fell, and though the air afterwards was strangely clear, the heliograph
could not be used till the afternoon. We were left in uncertainty.
Shells were bursting along the ridge of Taba Nyama, on the double peaks
and the Boer tents below. Only on the highest point in the centre we
could see no firing, and that in itself was hopeful. About 8 a.m. the
fire slackened and ceased. We conjectured an armistice. Through a
telescope we could see little black specks on the centre of the hill;
they appeared to be building sangars. The Naval Cone Redoubt, having the
best telescope, report that the walls are facing this way. In that case
the black specks were probably British, and yet not even in the morning
sun did we get a word of certainty. We hardly know what to think.

In the afternoon the situation was rather worse. We saw the shelling
begin again, but no progress seemed to be made. About 4 p.m. we
witnessed a miserable sight. Along the main track which crosses the
Great Plain and passes round the end of Telegraph Hill, almost within
range of our guns, came a large party of men tramping through the dust.
They were in khaki uniforms, marched in fours, and kept step.
Undoubtedly they were British prisoners on their way to Pretoria. Their
numbers were estimated at fifty, ninety, and 150 by different look-out
stations. In front and rear trudged an unorganised gang of Boers,
evidently acting as escort. It was a miserable and depressing thing to
see.

At last a cipher message began to come through on the heliograph. There
was immense excitement at the Signal Station. The figures were taken
down. Colonel Duff buttoned the precious paper in his pocket. Off he
galloped to Headquarters. Major De Courcy Hamilton was called to
decipher the news. It ran as follows: "Kaffir deserter from Boer lines
reports guns on Bulwan and Telegraph Hills removed!"

It was dated a day or two back. To-day both guns mentioned have been
unusually active. Their shells have been bursting thick among us, and
the sound of their firing must have been quite audible below. Yet this
was the message.

Eggs to-night fetched 30s. 6d. per dozen; a sucking pig 35s.; a chicken
20s. In little over a week we shall have to begin killing our horses
because they will have nothing to eat.

_January 26, 1900._

Full of hopes and fears, I rode early up to Observation Hill as usual,
and s