The men were beginning to say that they had stood this sort of thing long enough, when the measure of their discontent was filled to overflowing this morning by a bombardment fiercer than ever.  It opened with the barking of “Pom-Poms” as early as half-past five, and ran through the whole gamut from lowest bass of a big gun’s boom to the shrillest scream of smaller projectiles and the whip-like whistle of shrapnel bullets lashing the air with so little intermission that within two hours no less than seventy-five shells had burst in and about Ladysmith camp.  This was too much to be borne patiently, and every soldier welcomed the order for an offensive movement, their only regret being that infantry were to play no part in the affair.  General Brocklehurst, with a force of cavalry, Imperial Light Horse, and artillery, moved out of camp soon after nine o’clock, taking the road that leads westward and southward through the gap at Range Post.  The object of that movement was generally believed to be an attack oh Blaauwbank, or Rifleman’s Hill, as it is officially called, and the capture of a Boer battery there, from which our defensive lines between King’s Post and Cove Redoubt had been repeatedly enfiladed.  If successful in driving the enemy back, our troops would then swing round to their left and go for the big gun on Middle Hill, against which 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.