=The Battle of Belmont.=

And then came the battle of Belmont! From Orange River the troops had
been compelled to march, and had their first taste of the African sun in
the greatness of his strength. The legs of the kilted men were blistered
as though boiling water had been poured over them, and all but the old
campaigners in every regiment suffered acutely. Belmont was reached
after dark; the troops were without over-coats or blankets, and the
night was bitingly cold. But they lay down anywhere, glad enough to
stretch themselves upon the ground or seek the friendly shelter of a
ditch. Here they lay unmurmuringly--members of the proudest aristocracy
in the world, noblemen of ancient lineage, quite ready to sleep in a
ditch or die, for that matter, for their country.

Before two o'clock in the morning, they were aroused, and marched out to
attack the stronghold of the Boers. And nobly they performed their task.
But let a Christian soldier--our old friend Sergeant Oates--describe the
battle.


=A Sergeant's Account of the Battle.=

'On the 23rd November (Martinmas Day), we marched out early in the
morning, and at daybreak found ourselves facing the Boers in a
formidable position. All was so still during our march to this place.
While marching along, a young goat had got parted from its mother and
commenced bleating mournfully in front of us, and although I am not
superstitious, it made me feel quite uncomfortable, as it did many more.