"10 A.M.--Both sides are sticking to the business desperately. The
rattle of rifle-fire is one low roar. The air shudders and vibrates
under it. Now the naval guns draw towards the river again; so do the
rest of our batteries. Things can't stand at this tension. The big gun
speaks again, but wildly; its shell bursts far out on the plain."

"10.30.--The aspect of the place is now awful. The breeze has died a
little and the smoke hangs more. It is enveloped in a haze of yellow and
blue vapour, partly from bursting shell and partly firing guns. Those
volumes of smoke, with gleams of fire every now and then, make it look
like some busy manufacturing town, and the blows and throbs with which
the place resounds convey the same idea."

"11 A.M.--The fight is dogged as ever but slower. There are cessations
of firing altogether, and it is comparatively slow when continued. The
stubbornness of the enemies' resistance to our attack and to the fearful
shelling they have had is calling forth expressions of astonishment and
admiration from the onlooking officers on the hill."

"As the circle narrowed and our attack concentrated on the village and
bridge, we all thought that the end was coming, and, on a lull of the
firing about 11.30 the Major even exclaimed, 'There, I think that's the
end, and I can only say thank God for it.' But he was wrong. He had
scarcely said it when that indomitable heavy gun of theirs, re-supplied
with gunners, began again; again the Naval guns, on a tested range,
crack their shrapnel right in its face; the batteries all open and soon
the whole orchestra is thundering again. That dreadful muttering, the
'rub-a-dub, a-dub-a-dub, a-dub-a-dub' (say it as fast as you can) of the
rifles keeps on; through all the noise of fire, the sharp, quick bark of