Leaving two-thirds of-his force in the bush nearly half-way up the slope, General Hunter took about 100 Light Horse, nearly 100 Carbineers and Mounted Rifles, with ten sappers under Captain Fowke, and began the main ascent.  Major Henderson, of the Intelligence Department, acted as guide, keeping the extreme left of the extended line pretty nearly under the position of the big gun.  So they advanced silently through the rocks and bushes under the uncertain light of the moon, which was just setting.  It was two o’clock.

The Boer sentries must have been fast asleep.  There was only one challenge.  An old man’s voice from behind suddenly cried in Dutch:  “Halt! who goes there?” One of the Volunteers—­a Carbineer—­answered, “Friend.”  “Hermann,” cried the sentry.  “Who’s that?  Wake up.  It’s the Red-necks” (the Boer name for English).  “Hold your row!” cried the Carbineer, still in Dutch.  “Don’t you know your own friends?” The sentry either ran away, or was satisfied, and the line crept on.  The first part of the slope is gentle, but the face of the hill rises steep with rocks, and must be climbed on hands and knees, especially in the dark.  Up went the 200, keeping the best line they could, and spreading out well to the right so as to outflank the enemy when the top was reached.  Within about 100 yards of the summit they came under rifle fire, the Boer guard having taken alarm.  A picket in rear also began firing up at random.  It was impossible to judge the number of the enemy.  Anything between twenty and fifty was a guide’s estimate at the time.  The slope was so steep that the Boers were obliged to lean over the edge and show themselves against the sky as they fired.  Some of our men returned their fire with revolvers.  At sixty yards from the top they were halted for the final assault.  The Volunteers, like the Boers, carry no bayonets.  Their orders were not to fire, but to club the enemy with the butt if they stood.  The orders were now repeated.  Then some inspired genius (Major Carey-Davis [?  Karri Davis], of the I.L.H., it is said) raised the cry:  “Fix bayonets.  Give ’em cold steel, my lads.”  All appreciated the joke, and the shout rang down the line, as the men rose up and rushed to the summit.  Four bayonets were actually present, but I am not sure whether they were fixed or not.

That shout was too much for the Boer gunners.  They scattered and fled, heading across the broad top of the hill, even before our men had reached the edge.  Swinging round from the right, our line rushed for the big gun.  The Light Horse and the Sappers were first to reach it, Colonel Edwards himself winning the race.  They found the splendid gun deserted in his enormous earthwork, the walls of which are 30 ft. to 35 ft. thick.  One Boer was found dead outside it, shot in the assault.