w it was, that what was after all a considerable force,
was so easily driven from a position of great natural strength; but
I think I may, without presumption, state my opinion was to the real
cause, which was the villanous shooting of the British soldier. Though
the troops did not, as was said at the time, run short of ammunition,
it is clear that they fired away a great many rounds at men who, in
storming the hill, must necessarily have exposed themselves more or
less, of whom they managed to hit--certainly not more than six or
seven,--which was the outside of the Boer casualties. From this it is
clear that they can neither judge distance nor hit a moving object, nor
did they probably know that when shooting down hill it is necessary to
aim low. Such shooting as the English soldier is capable of may be
very well when he has an army to aim at, but it is useless in guerilla
warfare against a foe skilled in the use of the rifle and the art of
taking shelter.

A couple of months after the storming of Majuba, I, together with a
friend, had a conversation with a Boer, a volunteer from the Free State
in the late war, and one of the detachment that stormed Majuba, who gave
us a circumstantial account of the attack with the greatest willingness.
He said that when it was discovered that the English had possession
of the mountain, they thought that the game was up, but after a while
bolder counsels prevailed, and volunteers were called for to storm the
hill. Only seventy men could be found to perform the duty, of whom he
was one. They started up the mountain in fear and trembling, but soon
found that every shot passed over their heads, and went on with greater
boldness. Only three men, he declared, were hit on the Boer side;
one was killed, one was hit in the arm, and he himself was the third,
getting his face grazed by a bullet, of which he showed us the scar. He
stated that the first to reach the top ridge was a boy of twelve, and
that as soon as the troops saw them they fled, when, he said, he paid
them out for having nearly killed him, knocking them over one after
another "like bucks" as they ran down the hill, adding that it was
"alter lecker" (very nice). He asked us how many men we had lost during
the war, and when we told him about seven hundred killed and wounded,
laughed in our faces, saying he knew that our dead amounted to several
thousands. On our assuring him that this was not the case, he replied,
"Well, don't let