oned
in groups upon the two higher mountains (as one may call them) upon our
right and left. Both of these points looked down upon our position, and
it was only by keeping close among the stones under the edge of our
ridge that we got any cover, and that indifferent. But, happily, the
range was long, and for hour after hour those two hills were simply
swept by our shrapnel. On our right the long mountain edge, where the
enemy's gun had been, is called Mattowan's Hoek. The great dome-like
hill (really the end of a flat-topped mountain in perspective), on our
left, was Tinta Inyoni.

Our infantry lay along the ridge, keeping up a pretty constant fire, and
sometimes volleying by sections, whenever they could get sight of their
almost invisible enemy. Sometimes they advanced a little way down
towards the valley. On the right the Gloucesters about eleven o'clock
came over the ridge on to a flat little piece of grass land in front. I
suppose they expected to get a better range or clearer view, but within
a few minutes that patch of grass was spotted with lumps of khaki. Two
officers--one their colonel--and six men were killed outright, and the
official list of wounded runs to over fifty. When they had withdrawn
again to the ridge the doctors and privates went out to bring the
wounded back. Behind the cover of the rocks the dhoolies were waiting
with their green-covered stretchers. In the sheltered corner on the flat
ground below stood the ambulance waggons ready. All the ambulance
service was admirably worked that day, but I think perhaps the highest
credit remains with the mild Hindoos.

By twelve o'clock the low hills in our front were burning from our
shells, and the smoke of the grass helped still more to conceal this
baffling enemy of ours. It was all very well for the gunners, with their
excellent glasses, but the ordinary private could hardly see anything to
aim at, and yet he was more or less under fire all the time. As to
smoke, of course the smokeless powder gives the Boers an immense
advantage in their method of fighting. It is hardly ever possible to
tell exactly where the shots come from. But I noticed one man near the
top of Tinta, who evidently had an old Martini which he valued much more
than new-fangled things. Whenever he fired a little puff of grey smoke
followed, and I always thought I heard the growl of his bullet
particularly close, as though he steadily aimed at some officer near
by. He sat under a bu