General Brocklehurst's brilliant but futile reconnaissance of the
previous Friday had been directed.

Three field batteries, posted on spurs along the line from Waggon Hill
towards Rifleman's Post, covered the advance by shelling in turn all the
Boer guns that could be brought to bear on the open ground across which
our troops had to pass. Thus challenged, the enemy's artillery replied
briskly, but their fire was a bit wild, and, regardless of shells that
fell thick about them, the Imperial Light Horse, numbering no more than
ninety rifles, led by Colonel Edwardes, who has succeeded the heroic
Chisholm in command of this dashing corps, pushed forward to seize Star
Kopje and prevent any Boer movement towards that point from Thornhill's
Farm.

Hussars went forward in support of the Imperial Horse, galloping like
scattered bands of Red Indians across the green veldt, where a spruit
runs down to Klip River, until they had passed the zone of hostile fire,
and then re-forming squadrons with a precision that was very pretty to
watch. Other cavalry were in reserve, massed behind folds of the
undulating slopes hidden from some Boer guns and beyond the effective
range of others. There was force enough for any work in hand, but not
quite of the right composition. To drive Boer riflemen off a rough ridge
along which they can retire from one position, when it gets too hot for
them, to another, nothing will do but infantry of some sort, and
preferably with a bayonet sting left in them for final emergencies. This
was an occasion of all others when infantry regiments might have changed
the whole course of events to our advantage, but for some reason they
had been left in camp.

For nearly three hours our batteries shelled the Boer kopjes, expending