There is a good deal of bush on the plain, especially to the right of
the steep hill, where it is quite thick. During the last week we have
been poking about in this a good deal, approaching the hill now on this
side, now on that, under cover of the scrub, examining and searching,
but with very little result. They keep themselves well hidden. The hills
look untenanted except that now and then we have seen parties of Boers
wending their way in between the kopjes and driving in herds of cattle.

In the thick bush on the eastern plain, as we lay one morning at
daybreak, we could hear the shouts of men and catch glimpses of them
here and there riding about and urging their cattle on. Some passed not
far from where we lay crouched (we had left our ponies on the outskirts
of the bush). It seemed funny to watch them riding to and fro,
unconscious of our presence and calling to each other. It reminded me of
some boy's game of hide-and-seek or Tom Tiddler's ground. We have had
two or three casualties, and lost two prisoners, and we have bagged
several of them. The army is resting.

Well, this morning, as I was saying, we take our Long Tom (Joey, as he
is now called, out of compliment to Chamberlain) out for a shot. Here is
a note about it:--

"4.30 A.M.--Our little groups of horse, in threes and fours, are
clustered behind bushes. There is a whispered consultation round our
large gun and his nose slowly rises. The jerk of the lanyard is followed
by a frightful explosion and then comes the soaring noise of the flying
shell and the red spark and column of dust on the kopje. The range has
been well judged, for the first shot falls with beautiful accuracy just
on the hill where they are supposed to be.