s, and
dust spots knocked up, and felt the same sort of feeling that one has
while waiting to start for a race, only with an added chill and
thrill.

The guns unlimbered, and came into action against the kopje, and we
and the limbers trotted about 300 yards back, and are waiting there
now. A gunner and a driver slightly wounded, and some horses hit. One
bullet broke our wheel-driver's whip. Our shrapnel are bursting
beautifully over the Boer lines.

_(Later.)_--We have just taken our waggon up to the firing line, and
brought back an empty one with our team.

_(Later.)_--We have been back to the convoy, and refilled the empty
waggon from the reserve, and are back again. The Boers seem to be
dislodged from the ridge, and infantry have occupied it. I hear some
Boers made for a farm, but we plumped a shell right into it, and they
fled. The convoy is now coming on, and crossing the drift with
discordant yells. Infantry and mounted infantry pressing on both
flanks. Our guns have taken up another position farther on. The
Captain asked after the broken whip, and told us we could not have
gone into action better. He has been riding about all day on his
stumpy little Argentine, radiant and beaming, with his eternal pipe in
his mouth!

_(Later.)_--We marched on a few miles, and bivouacked, while the whole
convoy slowly trailed in, and formed up in laager. This operation, and
the business of posting the troops for the night, is horribly tedious.
It has to be done in the dark, and one is continually mounting and
dismounting, and moving on a bit, and making impossible wheels round
mules and waggons. Probably we get too small a space allotted, and the
horses are all jammed together in the picket-lines, causing a vast
loss of temper at unharnessing. After unharnessing and feeding horses,
which you have to look sharp about, or you will miss coffee, every one
crowds round the cook's fire, and looks with hungry eyes at the pots.
Coffee or tea, biscuits and tinned meat, are served out. You are
ravenous, as you have lived on chance scraps during the day. Then you
make your bed, stretching your blankets behind your harness, standing
a saddle on end, and putting a feed-bag behind it for a pillow. Next
morning's feeds have first to be made up, and then you sleep like a
log, if you can, that is. I generally have to get up at least once,
and walk about for the cold. Fellows who are lucky enough to have fuel
make small fires (an anthill pro