all day, however. Towards evening the
enemy's gun on Rifleman's Ridge, or Lancer's Nek, opened straight over
the general's new quarters, to which Sir George White had only changed
half an hour earlier. This may be merely a coincidence, but it is
strange that no shells have fallen near his house at the foot of Port
Road since he quitted it. Artillery could be heard southward at
intervals pounding away with dull thuds like the beats of time on a big
drum muffled. But we have almost ceased to speculate on the meaning of
such sounds--while they come no nearer this way there is no message of
relief to us in them, and we are getting reconciled to the idea of
waiting, irksome though it may be and heavy with many unpleasant
possibilities.

Ladysmith had now been for fifty days under the fire of the enemy's
guns. The situation after Sir Redvers Buller's first failure to
relieve the town, as has been seen, grew more serious, and although
it was very far indeed from what could be regarded as critical,
there is to be remarked in telegrams and letters of this period a
growing appreciation of its irksomeness. But dark as the sky looked
it was flecked by many a brighter patch. There was a gay as well as
a grave side to life in the besieged town, and to both Mr. Pearse
does justice in a letter written on 21st December under the
heading, "Amenities of a Siege." It is as follows:--

We have done our best to endure shells, privations, and the approach of
a sickly season with fortitude if not absolute cheerfulness, and our
hope is that though the position here may not seem a very glorious one,
it will be recognised henceforth as an example of the way in which
British soldiers and colonists of British descent can bear themselves in
circumstances that try the best qualities of men and women.

"I wonder what they think of us in England now? Do they regard us as
heroes or damned fools for stopping here?" asked an officer of the
King's Royal Rifles with comic seriousness. This question was
transmitted in a slightly varied form by heliograph signal to our
comrades south of the Tugela one day, and the answering flashes came
back, "You are heroes; not----" Here the message was interrupted by
clouds, and lost in a series of confused dashes which the receiving
signaller could not read. We flatter ourselves, however, that the
missing words were full of generous appreciation.

There is little eno