the operations a
thunderstorm joined in to swell the general din, under cover of which
the Boers crept in round three sides of the force. There was never any
question of their succeeding in cutting it off, but the boldness of
their tactics was characteristic of the phase the war had now begun to
assume. There was a good deal of rifle-fire on both sides, and the
28th Battery R.F.A., under its new commander, who had replaced our
esteemed friend, Major Stokes, D.S.O., promoted to R.H.A., fired
nearly one hundred rounds. What casualties the enemy suffered was not
ascertained, but on our side there was only one, a man in Roberts'
Horse being badly hit. Those of us who were not engaged sat among the
rocks on the tops of the hills, whence a fine panoramic view of the
skirmish was obtainable by the aid of telescopes and binoculars.

The 28th and 29th passed uneventfully, Captain Romer occupying the
time in again demonstrating his architectural capabilities in the
erection of a fort near the pass.

[Illustration: Boy Fitzpatrick waiting at Lunch.]

On the 30th a reconnaissance in force was made along the Gatsrand in a
westerly direction, the left half-battalion of the Royal Dublin
Fusiliers acting as the infantry of the force. Moving along the
summits of the hills in four lines of widely extended companies, they
marched to within sight of Frederickstadt before they returned.
Imagine exaggerated Pyramids of Cheops; imagine each block of stone
carved by stress of weather into a thousand needle-points and
ankle-twisting crevices; plant a dense growth of mimosa and other
thorny scrub in every cranny and interstice. Take a dozen such
pyramids, and do your morning constitutional over them, after the
scrappiest of breakfasts at 5 a.m., and you will find twelve or
fourteen miles quite as much as you care about. But the march was not
devoid of interest, though we met with no Boers. Small buck, hares,
and partridges were there in sufficient number to afford a good day's
sport under other circumstances, while a profusion of various kinds of
flowers afforded satisfaction to the eye, in strong contrast to the
bare and barkless trunks of trees riven by the frequent storms that
devastate these hills. In one place a most gruesome sight was met
with. Under a small tree beside a tiny stream stood a three-legged
cooking-pot, and round it lay three skeletons, with a scattering of
shrapnel bullets to silently tell the story of the tragedy. Besid