this rapid firing was much safer for the inhabitants than a stray shot after a long interval, as people remained below-ground expecting a repetition of that never-to-be-forgotten crashing explosion, followed by the sickening noise of the splinters tearing through the air, sometimes just over one’s head, like the crack of a very long whip, manipulated by a master-hand.  The smallest piece of one of these fragments was sufficient to kill a man, and scarcely anyone wounded with a shell ever seemed to survive, the wounds being nearly always terribly severe, and their poison occasioning gangrene to set in.  There were many comic as well as tragic incidents connected with the shells of the big gun.  A monkey belonging to the post-office, who generally spent the day on the top of a pole to which he was chained, would, on hearing the alarm-bell, rapidly descend from his perch, and, in imitation of the human beings whom he saw taking shelter, quickly pop under a large empty biscuit-tin.  Dogs also played a great part in the siege.  One, belonging to the Base-Commandant, was wounded no less than three times; a rough Irish terrier accompanied the Protectorate Regiment in all its engagements; and a third amused itself by running after the small Maxim shells, barking loudly, and trying to retrieve pieces.  On the other hand, the Resident Commissioner’s dog was a prudent animal, and whenever she heard the alarm-bell, she would leave even her dinner half eaten, and bolt down her master’s bomb-proof.  On one occasion I remember being amused at seeing a nigger, working on the opposite side of the road, hold up a spade over his head like an umbrella as the missile came flashing by, while a fellow-workman crawled under a large tarpaulin that was stretched on the ground.  These natives always displayed the most astonishing sang-froid.  One day we saw a funny scene on the occasion of a Kaffir wedding, when the bridegroom was most correctly attired in morning-dress and an old top-hat.  Over his frock-coat he wore his bandolier, and carried a rifle on his shoulder; the bride, swathed in a long white veil from head to foot, walked by his side, and was followed by two young ladies in festive array, while the procession was brought up by more niggers, armed, like the bridegroom, to the teeth.  The party solemnly paraded the streets for fully half an hour, in no wise disconcerted by a pretty lively shelling and the ring of the Mausers on the corrugated iron roofs.

Quite as disagreeable as “Creechy,” although less noisy, was the enemy’s 1-pound Maxim.  A very loud hammering, quickly repeated, and almost simultaneously a whirring in the air, followed by four quick explosions, and then we knew this poisonous devil was at work.  The shells were little gems in their way, and when they did not burst, which was often the case, were tremendously in request as souvenirs.  Not much larger than an ordinary pepper-caster, when polished up and varnished they made really charming