of the earliest shells from that battery struck the mess
tent of the Devon Regiment, and burst among officers at breakfast with
disastrous results. Captain Lafone, who had been wounded at
Elandslaagte, was killed; Lieutenant Price-Dent so seriously injured
that there is little hope of his recovery; six other subalterns
wounded--one being hit by shrapnel bullets or splinters in four
places--and the mess waiter struck down by a heavy splinter that
embedded itself beneath the ribs in a cavity too deep for probing at
present. There was a curiously spiteful touch in the bombardment all
day, and at midnight we were roused by sounds of rapid rifle-firing that
began from Bell's Spruit and the railway cutting against Observation
Hill and ran along to Rifleman's Ridge on one flank, and Devonshire Hill
on the other. It was all Boer firing, but no shots came into the line of
defences, and our men did not reply by letting off so much as one rifle.
A thunder-storm raged to the accompaniment of heavy rain for some time,
and perhaps the enemy thought we might choose such a night for attacking
them under cover of intense darkness.

The last few days of the closing year were, on the whole, quiet,
though, as Mr. Pearse seems to have felt, important events were
brewing. We make the following extracts from his notebook:--

_December 28._--This morning there was just a pale glimmer of dawn when
our large naval gun assumed the aggressive part, and sent six shells in
rapid succession on to Bulwaan battery and the hillside, where Boers
were moving about. A little later stretcher parties could be seen
collecting apparently wounded men. As "Puffing Billy" made no reply to
this challenge, but remained silent all day, it is probable that many of
the gunners were injured. "Silent Susan," otherwise "Bulwaan Sneak,"
however, fired several shots, and the bombardment was kept up from
Rifleman's Ridge, Telegraph Hill, and a 12-pounder on Middle Hill, while
Pom-Poms at two points barked frequently, but all this fuss and fury
happily did no harm to anybody. At night a brilliant beam, like the tail
of a comet, appeared in the southern sky. Presently the tail began to
wag systematically, and experts were able to spell out the words of a
cipher message. It was General Buller talking to us across fifteen miles
of hills, and the conversation, all on one side, was kept up until
lowering clouds shut out the light. We had no means of replying, but