upwards--the bullet frequently bores a clean little hole through the
opposing bone and thus saves the surgeon a great deal of trouble.

The wounds from shell fire were not numerous in our wards. It seems
likely that if a one-pounder shell from the Maxim-Nordenfeldt hits a man
it is pretty sure to kill him. Some of the wounded men told me how
terrible it was to hear the cries of a comrade ripped to pieces by this
devilish missile.

The condition of the Highlanders' legs was terrible. Many of the poor
fellows lay in the open for hours--some of them from 4 A.M. to 8
P.M.--and the back of their legs was, almost without exception, covered
with blisters and large burns from the scorching sun. Very many of those
who had escaped bullet wounds could not, I should think, have marched
ten miles to save their lives. The Highland Light Infantry wore trousers
and their legs were all right. How much longer are we going to clothe
our Highland regiments in kilts on active service? Every man I spoke to
was dead against their use in a subtropical campaign like the present
one. Besides, even as it is, our men have to put up with a compromise in
the matter of kilts which makes their retention almost ridiculous,
_i.e._, in order to screen his gay attire from the keen eyes behind the
Mauser barrels every Highlander wears over the tartan a dingy apron of
khaki. The war pictures we occasionally see in illustrated papers of
Scotch regiments charging with flying sporrans are probably drawn in
England. Even when the apron is used, the khaki jacket, the tartan kilt
and the white legs offer a good mark when the wearer is lying on the
ground. At Omdurman I stood with the Seaforths and Camerons in the
firing line and I noticed that they appeared to lose more than any other
battalion.