shrill anathemas; the mules had the whip hand of us, and they kept it. But,
in spite of it all, in the chilly dawn of the African morning, our fellows,
with their shoulders well back, and heads held high, marched into Belmont,
with every man safe and sound, and every waggon complete.

Then the Gordons turned out and gave us a cheer, for they had passed us in
the train as we crossed the line above Witteput, and they knew, those
veterans from Indian wars, what our raw Volunteers had done; they had been
on their feet from two o'clock on Wednesday morning until five o'clock of
the following day, with the heat at 122 in the shade, and bitter was their
wrath when they learnt that the Boer spies, who swarm all over the country,
had heralded their coming, so that the enemy had only waited to plant a few
shells into Belmont before disappearing into the hills beyond. That was the
cruel part of it. They did not mind the fatigue, they did not worry about
the thirst or the hunger, but to be robbed of a chance to show the world
what they could do in the teeth of the enemy was gall and wormwood to them,
and the curses they sent after the discreet Boer were weird, quaint,
picturesque, and painfully prolific.

We are lying with the Gordons now, waiting for the Boers to come along and
try to take Belmont, and our fellows and the "Scotties" are particularly
good chums, and it is the cordial wish of both that they may some day give
the enemy a taste of the bayonet together.





WITH THE AUSTRALIANS.