eristic of their profession. But suddenly their ease was rudely
broken. A single drum-tap made known to all that the enemy was at the
gates. In a moment the commander had thrown away three parts of his
costly cigar, had sprung to his feet, and with the heart of a lion and
the voice of a dove, had shouted the magical battle-cry, 'Attention!'
Then with a yell of stern resolve, and the answering cry of 'Stand
easy, boys,' the whole squadron, gunners and adjutants, ambulance and
bombardiers, yeomen and gentlemen farmers, marched forth into the
night.

"That very night the bloody battle was fought which sealed the fate of
the Transvaal--and the dashing colour-sergeant nailed England's proud
banner on the citadel of Pretoria."

* * * * *

About once every week, it was my turn for stable-guard at night,
consisting of two-hour spells, separated by four hours' rest. The
drivers did this duty, while the gunners mounted guard over the
magazines. On this subject I quote some nocturnal reflections from my
diary:--"Horses at night get very hungry, and have an annoying habit
of eating one another's head-ropes reciprocally. When this happens you
find chains if you can, and then they eat the framework of the stall.
If you come up to protest, they pretend to be asleep, and eat your arm
as you pass. They also have a playful way of untying their breast-pads
and standing on them, and if you are conscientious, you can amuse
yourself by rescuing these articles from under their hind feet."

The days were never very monotonous; variety was given by revolver
practice, harness cleaning, and lectures on first aid to the wounded.
At the same time it came as a great relief to hear that we were at
last close to the Cape.

From my diary:--

"_February 26._--Heavy day at stables. Land reported at eleven; saw
through forage-port a distant line of mountains on port beam, edged by
a dazzling line of what looked like chalk cliffs, but I suppose is
sand. I am on stable-guard for the night (writing this in the
guard-room), so when stables were over at four I had to pack hard, and
only got up for a glimpse of things at five, then approaching Table
Bay, guarded by the splendid Table Mountain, with the tablecloth of
white clouds spread on it in the otherwise cloudless sky. I always
imagined it a smooth, dull mountain, but in fact it rises in
precipitous crags and ravines. A lovely scene as we steamed up through
a crowd of