What became of it eventually I cannot say, but I think the poor little
thing got roughly handled, if not killed.

'We were not long before we came within rifle range, and then the
bullets began to fly about our ears as we advanced towards the Boer
position. We pressed on; first one and then another kept dropping out,
and shouts of "stretcher bearer" were heard very frequently. Nothing
except death would have stopped our men that morning, so determined they
seemed. On we went, and faster and thicker the bullets came, spending
themselves in the sand at our feet. At last we reached the kopje, and
rested at the foot a short while, and then up we went. Lieutenant Brine
and myself reached the top in advance of the others. As soon as we
popped our heads over the top, five of the Northamptons popped their
heads over the other side, facing us with their rifles, at the present,
and it was hard to convince them we were friends, so excited were they.
We were not allowed to remain at peace long, for evidently some one had
spied us. Ping, ping, came the Mauser bullets; swish, swish, the
Martinis. We soon got to rather close quarters and were able to do some
good shooting. I was still close to Mr. Brine, and we had been talking
some few minutes, when some one spied him and he had two or three
narrow escapes. He moved to what he thought was a safer place, and had
about four shots, which all told. He gave me the range, and was just
taking aim a fifth time when a Martini bullet pierced his throat, and he
fell to rise no more. That was the first death I saw, and I felt
somewhat sick. Soon, however, we charged, and up went the _white flag_;
but it was the most difficult piece of work I ever saw, trying to stop
our men in the middle of a charge. However, they were stopped in time,
and instead of being killed, the remaining Boers were taken prisoners.
The battle over, we returned to camp, and then came the sad duty of
burying our fourteen dead comrades. There were not many dry eyes, but I