The spot we had in view was a kopje, situated to the north of the
village. Here the enemy's camp was located. As this kopje was the key to
the village, it was necessarily very strongly fortified. We knew that if
we could only occupy that hill, the rest would be easy work. Before dawn
we were close to the camp. A few minutes more and we shall grimly salute
our sleeping brethren. Silently we approach them. We are keenly on the
alert for the pickets, whom, least of all, we wished to disturb. Behold!
something in the darkness--what may that be? To be sure, two human
forms! Hush! they are slumbering. Noiselessly we draw nearer, reach
them, seize their rifles, and then--wake them. They are our first
prisoners; our way to the camp is open, safe and sure.

On we moved until stopped, not by a sentinel--it was much too cold that
night to expect an attack--but by a network of barbed wires, by which
the hill and camp were fenced in. Quickly the wires were cut. That done,
some of the burghers charged the tents, while the rest made for the
enemy's trenches on top of the hill.

How awful a surprise! Taken unawares, the foe ran to their strongholds,
but only to meet death there, for these were already in possession of
our men. Myburgh, a Gastron burgher, so very brave, was the first and
only one to receive a mortal wound--other men were slightly wounded in
that hand-to-hand struggle. At dawn the hill and the camp were in our
possession, for the enemy, after a loss of 9 killed and wounded, thought
it best to resist no longer.

With the occupation of the hill it was possible to reach the village.
The British allowed the burghers to pass their skanzes without shooting
at them. But no sooner had they entered the village than a heavy fire