Opposite our right ran a long high ridge covered with rocks and leading up to a rocky plateau.  In their centre was a pointed hill, at the foot of which stood their camp, with tents and waggons.  Opposite our left was a small detached kopje, and beyond that a fairly flat plain, with a river running through it, and the railway beyond Elands Laagte Station.  Their three guns stood on the rocky ridge to our right of their camp—­two together half-way down, one a little higher up.  Flash—­flash—­they went, and then came the whirr, the crash, and the screaming fragments.

Suddenly our guns opened in answer from our right centre, and we could watch the shrapnel bursting right over their gunners’ heads.  They say the gunners were German.  At all events, they were brave fellows, and worked the guns with extraordinary skill and courage.  The official account admits that they returned several times to their posts after being driven out by our shell.  The afternoon was passing, and if we were to take the place before dark we could not spare time to shake it with our artillery much longer.  At about half-past four the infantry were ordered to advance, the Gordons and Manchesters on the right, the Devons on the left.  They went down the long slope and across the valley with perfect intervals and line, much better than they go in the hollows of the old Fox Hills.

In the advance the Gordons and Manchesters gradually changed direction half right and crept up towards that plateau on the right of the ridge, so as to take the enemy in flank.  The Devons went straight forward, coming into infantry fire as they crossed that low wave of ground in the middle of the valley.  On the further slope they were ordered to lie down and wait till the flanking movement was developed.  Happily the slope, as is usual in South Africa, was thickly spotted over with great ant-hills, beneath which the ant-eater digs his den.  Ant-heaps, hardened almost to brick, make excellent cover, and we lay down behind them on any bit of rock we could find, the fire being very hot, and the Mauser bullets making their unpleasant whiffle as they passed.  I think the first man hit was a private, who got a ball through his head by the ear.  He was carried away, but died before he got off the field.  A young officer was struck soon afterwards, and then the bearers began to be busy.  There were far too few of them, and no one could find the ambulance carts.  As a matter of fact they had not left Ladysmith—­twelve miles at least away.  Most of the wounded tried to creep back out of fire.  Some lay quite still.  I heard only two or three call out for help.  Meantime the rest were keeping up a steady fire, not by volleys, but as each could sight a Boer among the rocks, and my own belief is that very few Boers were hit that way.