them from our field battery; a few shells tearing up the dust in clouds in their distant camp; and two of our own Lancers hit, makes up the story of this affair, which serves to show conclusively that communication by road in that direction is barred, if not effectually cut.  General French therefore brought his column back, reaching Ladysmith in time to take train for Durban, handing over the cavalry command before he left to General Brocklehurst.

That train was the last to get through, and even then had to run the gauntlet of rifle and artillery fire from Boers who were on both sides of the line.  An hour later the railway was cut by the Boers, whose light guns completely commanded a defile through which the line passes; and at two o’clock telegraphic communication stopped short in the middle of an important despatch, while private and press messages innumerable await their turn.  The thread of that interrupted telegram will probably not be taken up for many days, and we realise that our isolation is complete.  Communications might have been kept open for days longer by an energetic use of artillery and mounted troops, but now it is too late to reopen them without incurring risk of serious losses.  We must be content to wait the development of events in other quarters, for the Boers are all round us now, and, blink the fact as we may, it must be admitted that Ladysmith is under siege.

While General French was making his reconnaissance our naval 12-pounders opened fire on “Long Tom” a few minutes after six o’clock, as a flash and puff of white smoke from his muzzle told that the bombardment was about to begin.  For an hour and a half the artillery duel went on briskly, Captain Lambton’s naval battery answering shot for shot, or rather anticipating each, as the shells from our guns travel with greater velocity, and get home three seconds before “Long Tom’s” can take effect.

Unfortunately one of the enemy’s shells fell close to Lieutenant Egerton, instructor in gunnery of H.M.S. Powerful, who was mortally wounded.  “My cricketing days are over now,” he said, with a plucky attempt to make light of his agony as the bluejackets lifted him gently on to a stretcher.  The Naval Brigade also had one bluejacket wounded, but not seriously.  There was only one other casualty, though shells fell frequently into the camps of Gordon Highlanders and Imperial Light Horse in rear of our main battery, the former having one man hit by a splinter as he lay in his tent.  The two regiments were thereupon ordered to shift their quarters, which they did with great promptitude, having no particular fancy to play the part of targets for ninety-four-pound shells.

November 3.—­Misfortunes press upon each other quickly.  This morning Lieut.  Egerton, R.N., a young sailor, not less distinguished for skill in his profession than for personal gallantry, died.  His requiem rang out from the naval battery in its duel with the enemy’s heaviest artillery.  Soon other Boer guns joined in from Lombard’s Kop and the slopes of Bulwaan, throwing shells about the town as if resolved to compass its ruin.