kopjes ahead, the shells dropping well among us. At this coarse
behaviour we pause disgusted. An A.D.C. galops up. We are to make a
_reconnaissance_ (hateful word!) on the right to see if the slope is
occupied. "Will the Guides kindly ...?" and the officer waves his hand
airily towards the hill and bows. We are quite well aware that the slope
is occupied, for we have seen Boers take up their position there, and
several experimental shots have already been fired by them. However,
"anything to oblige" is the only possible answer, and the squadron
right wheels and breaks into a canter. Once on the rise the bullets come
whizzing through our ranks quick enough. Down goes one man, then
another, then another. Maydon of the _Times_, who is with us, drops, but
only stunned by a grazing bullet, as it turns out. The Life Guards
deploying on our left catch it hot, and many saddles are emptied.

A charge at this time would have scattered the Boers instantly (they
were very weak) and saved both time and lives. Instead of this, however,
it is thought more advisable to keep every one standing still in order
to afford a more satisfactory test of Boer marksmanship. It is very
irksome. The air seems full of the little shrill-voiced messengers. Our
ponies wince and shiver; they know perfectly well what the sound means.
At last the fact that the hills are held is revealed to the sagacity of
our commanders, and we are moved aside and the guns once more come into
action.

It is easy (thank goodness!) to be wise after the event. I find every
one very discontented over this action, and especially the cavalry part
of it. Had we made a good wide cast instead of a timid little half-cock
movement, and come round sharp, we should have intercepted the Boer
convoy. As it is, we lose two more hours at this last stand which brings
us till late in the afternoon, and soon afterwards, on approaching the