The wounded man took hold of the hands of one of the burghers and begged
him to stay with him. He, however, considered it his duty to advance,
but first assured the poor man that the burghers who were following
could also speak English, and would look after him. Most of our men
followed the three. The rocks and boulders on the reef that we were
climbing afforded us splendid cover from the enemy on the white kopje.

To our left we found some more wounded. My brother took charge of one
with a ghastly wound in his head. We made some prisoners there, who were
too cowardly to defend themselves. A few of our comrades took them down.
We could notice by the guns and rugs that were lying about that the
enemy had fled in a panic, or else we should never have ventured to do
what we did later on.

We could fire at the enemy from a much shorter distance now, but were
not yet in their rear. It was necessary that we should occupy the next
position--a reef running parallel to the reef we were climbing, at a
distance of eighty paces. But it was impossible to take that position,
as our guns were firing bomb after bomb from the valley at our back,
somewhat to the left of us, so that the stones flew up in the air. We
also ran the risk of being taken for khakies, as our men knew nothing of
our venture. The Captain sent down a message to tell them to stop
shelling that position, as we wished to take it. Meanwhile, we kept on
firing at the white kopje, and the khakies kept on firing at us.

I went back to the wounded officer, who was being looked after by the
Captain. While we were standing talking, he died from loss of blood. Oh
the cruel brutality of war! The poor man was not dead five minutes when
we sat smoking his cigarettes.