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gallant rushes into a rain of lead which this war has called for with a frequency, and with a quality of danger, that I fancy no previous conflict has so often evoked.

The bulk of the enemy held a tall, rocky kopje, and our plan was to rush it, as we had rushed several such strongholds at Belmont. The troops of the Ninth Brigade led the way, and the Naval Brigade were in the very front. The Guards Brigade, lustrous with honour after the manner in which they had borne the brunt of the last fight, were now in the rear, drawn up in wide formation on the level veldt, and advancing slowly to support the attacking force.

The naval men marched boldly to the foot of the kopje, meeting, but not daunted by, the fearful fire.

They reached the rocks and began the ascent, huddled together, as if in utter ignorance of the dire necessity, in such warfare, for giving such a hail of shot all possible room to spend itself in space, and the least possible chance to lodge in human bodies. It is said that the shape of the kopje made this in some degree necessary, but they appeared to despise all danger.

They spent but very little time in taking breath, or in seeking shelter among the rocks; and pushed straight up the acclivity, now walking, now spurting up in short dashes.

It was horrible to see what damage befell them.

An officer of the King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry declared that in the heat of the rush he could only think of his sorrow for these men-his sorrow, and his amazement at their valour. And Major Lindley, surgeon to Rimington's Guides, said he was riveted to the spot by the sight of such magnificent, reckless courage, though the bullets were falling thickly around him also.

One man in every two was struck down in the furious onset of that little brigade of straw-hatted shipmates, and precisely one half the force fell on the kopje, dead or wounded.

The Yorkshires, moving five paces apart, dashed up to support the marines, the men of the Northamptonshire Regiment followed, and all stormed the position together.

Perhaps another battalion was in the rear, but these were the men who were in first at the death. They made it far too hot for the astonished Boers, who turned and fled down the other side of the hill, as the first of the British reached its top.

From the veldt the Boers were seen fleeing along the low ridge in great numbers, while our men, who had occupied their position, saw greater numbers dashing on horseback into the open country to the northward. A battery was sent for to shell them; it seemed as if with this help the majority of the runaways might be captured, but the horses were spent, and in an

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hour's time no battery had come. Our mounted infantry started to pursue the fugitives by passing between two middle kopjes, from and at which not a shot had been fired, and without the slightest warning two volleys, as concerted as if fired by Europeans, checked them with a sheet of missiles. It was estimated that fifteen hundred Boers had been in hiding there. They, too, melted away before word of their presence could be sent to our leaders.

Thus the battle ended. The enemy had been shelled away from some strongholds. The gallantry of our foot forces had accelerated their flight from others, and destroyed a great number of them, but the day belonged to the men who handled our great guns.

Our losses were 155 killed, 165 wounded, and the Boers suffered very nearly as heavily. As they sink their dead in rivers, bury them in the sand, and ride off with them over their saddle-bows, it is never easy to estimate their casualties.

CHAPTER XVI

BATTLE OF MODDER RIVER

WE had fought two battles in five days, and then, after a short march, had come upon a large pond, and had halted and camped beside it.

What a priceless possession water was, or the taste of it, or even the sight of it, to ten thousand marching men on this parched veldt! We had started from water at Orange River, marched to water at Fincham's Farm, then on again to the next water at Belmont, and fought there. Thence we had marched to Graspan and fought, treasuring a little water more than we treasured human lives, and so on until we filled our carts and bottles at this pond by Honey Nest Kloof.

To the north of us, in purple bulk, rose the hills that lie a few miles beyond the Modder River. They interested us because many said that in or beyond them we must meet the Boers for the last time before entering Kimberley, a dozen miles farther on. But we had water a-plenty-to drink, to wash in, even for bathing on the part of those who did not mind doing so in a pond where the mules were watered, and the mud was some feet deep.

We could not see the Modder, but we knew that it somewhere pierced the wide, nearly level field of sage tufts and sparse young grass before us. As the afternoon wore on we heard that just out of sight there was a village in our path where three hundred Boers were entrenched. One story was that a part of their force had shot at another part for trying to desert. Another rumour ran that, instead of this, all had shot at Rimington's " night cat" guides, who had sent in to us for help which we had not supplied.

But we were camped beside abundant water, we had fought two stiff battles in five days, and we were resting. Take my own case to show how others fared: I had borrowed a waterproof covering from an ammunition cart, and had made a shelter of it over four uprights-two guns and two sticks. I had filled my water-bottle, and also a two-quart canvas bag which leaked, and I was lying on a blanket, writing a description of Belmont fight, and exulting in the sound of the waste of my water as it dripped from the bag. Every half-hour I quaffed water, or treated the colonel, or the Times correspondent, to a drink. This was out of pure camaraderie, for they had plenty also. When it was too dark to write I washed my other flannel shirt and my other socks, and dabbled in the water. All of us in the Yorkshire Light Infantry did the same, as if we were ducks.

In the morning of the next day, Tuesday, Novem

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