November 24.—­The Boers made a clever cattle-raid this morning.  Twenty spans of trek-oxen had been sent to graze on the veldt between our outposts and Rifleman’s Ridge in charge of Kaffir herd-boys.  Slowly they grazed towards better pasturage, nearer and nearer to the Boer lines, from which shells in rapid succession were sent to burst just in rear of the herds.  Mounted infantry of the Leicesters attempted again and again, to herd the cattle back, but they were met each time by heavy rifle-fire, and at last two or three Boers dashing down the slope rounded up herd after herd with the dexterity of expert “cow-boys.”  Thus no less than 250 valuable trek-oxen fell into the enemy’s hands, and we had the humiliation of looking on helpless while it was being done.

The bombardment has been going on at intervals all day, from seven o’clock this morning until dusk, when Bulwaan sent several shells on to Junction Hill, killing three men of the Liverpool Regiment and wounding eight.  This is the most fatal half-hour we have experienced since the siege began, but there was one lucky escape from a shell which burst in the guard tent among four men without hurting any of them.  For the depression caused by these serious casualties there is some consolation in the rumour that “Long Tom” of Pepworth’s has been knocked out for good and all.  At any rate his last shot into the town was answered effectively by the naval 4.7, which sent a shell straight into “Long Tom’s” embrasure, and he has not spoken or given any sign of life since.  Without wearisome iteration it would be impossible to do justice day by day to the good work of the Naval Brigade under Captain Lambton.  Without the heavy guns of H.M.S. Powerful our state here would be much worse than it is, and everybody in besieged Ladysmith appreciates the bluejackets, who are always cheery, always ready for any duty, and whose good shooting has done much to keep down the fire of Boer artillery.

November 25.—­No hostilities disturb the quietness of morning or early afternoon, but it is never safe to count on this, and look-out men are kept constantly on the alert in each camp to give warning by sound of high whistle or gong when one of the big guns has been fired.  Against “Silent Susan” such precautions avail nothing, for she wears no white-cloud signal—­the flash of discharge can only be seen if you happen to be looking for it intently in the right place.  Close upon the heels of her report comes a shrill, fiendish whisper in the air, and by the time you hear that, the shell is overhead or has burst elsewhere.  The Gordons and Imperial Light Horse, however, are not to be debarred from sport by considerations of that kind.  They take all reasonable precautions and leave the rest to chance, with the result that they snatch some amusement out of circumstances that seem unpromising.  This afternoon the Gordons had a Gymkhana, and got through it merrily to the entertainment of many friends before a discordant note was heard from Boer batteries.  The bombardment did not begin until half-past six, and lasted only until dusk, the final shot being fired by our naval gun into some new works on Bulwaan.