fire, but the enemy seemed to have sufficient cover on the kopje--and
they were very obstinate. For some time the firing from the shoulders of
the pass ceased, and in the dark shadow between the high mountains we
for a moment had the feeling that we had been deserted by our men--only
for a moment, for we knew it could not be! The game was in our hands.

The sun sank lower, and we felt if the enemy were not soon compelled, to
surrender they would escape in the dark. There was still one position
which must be taken--the last reef, to which most of the enemy had
retired from the position we now occupied. One of our men, therefore,
let the other six fire a salvo at the kopje, and ran as hard as he could
to a rock at a distance of twenty-five paces ahead, about halfway to the
last reef. But now both the enemy and our own burghers, under Commandant
Coetzee, fired at him so persistently that he was thankful to reach the
rock. He lay there as still as possible, with his gaze fixed on the
reef--as he lay without cover on that side. It was a most critical
moment.

Fortunately he heard, almost at once, one of his comrades, Van Zulch,
call out 'Oh, the white flag! Hullo, the white flag!' and he saw them
climbing down. He lay still a moment longer to convince himself of the
fact, and then calmly went to the last reef, where many khakies
surrendered--and he descended with them. Now the rest of the burghers
came running along from all directions to disarm the enemy in the
dusk--and to take what booty there was to be had. In their eagerness to
get as much booty as possible, they allowed an officer, Major Scobel,
to escape.

As I arrived rather late on the battlefield, I cannot give any account
of the order in which De la Rey placed his men, neither do I know the