the British side were injured. Meanwhile the force under Major Peakman
was protesting at Carter's Farm. The enemy there made a bold effort to
silence Peakman. But a Maxim gun has a remarkable gift of the gab; the
Major had one with him, and he let it do all the talking--with results
that quickly drove the Boers beyond the range of its Phillipics.

Notwithstanding these castigations, or perhaps because of them, the
bombardment was resumed in the afternoon. Wesselton was assailed; a few
shells also fell into Kimberley, with no serious consequences. Silence
reigned at six o'clock. It was an exciting _finalé_ to the week. The
morrow would be Sunday, and glad we were to hear it. And still relief
was deferred; but the troops _were_ at Orange River, and seventy miles,
they told us, was a trifle in darkest Africa. That they (the troops)
would soon arrive did not admit of a doubt. And then?--and then the Boer
would run away or die.




CHAPTER V

_Week ending 18th November, 1899_


Sunday again! the most popular day of the seven; pre-eminently so since
the war began. The peace that marked an occasional week-day was the
certain accompaniment of the Sunday. The conditions of life were normal
on Sunday; its advent made us happy. Following upon the unpleasant
experiences of the previous day it was peculiarly welcome, albeit,
mayhap, the herald of troublous times. The death of the poor washerwoman