December 12, 1899.

I was so overcome with fever that again my aspect of things was not quite straight.  After dawn the Bulwan gun shelled the Star bakery, close to my cottage, and the stones and earth splashing on my roof woke me up too early.  Another cottage was wrecked.  The heat was intense, but the sun so splendid that I have hopes my heliograph message got through at last.  None have gone yet, but I took up my sixth version in faith to the signal station near the Convent.  On inquiry about Captain Paley I found he had been sent down to Intombi Camp with other serious cases, but the doctors think he has a chance.  Lieut.  Bond, who has a similar wound, went with him.  Lieut.  Fergusson, who died, had four bad wounds, three from bullets and one from a small shell of the automatic “pom-pom,” which shattered his thigh.  The rest of the day was a delirium of fever till the evening, when the wind suddenly changed to east, and it became cool and then bitterly cold.  At half-past eight the proposed Flying Column, which is to co-operate with the relieving force, had a kind of dress rehearsal, all turning out with field equipment and transport for three days’ rations.  The Irish Fusiliers under Major Churcher formed the head of the column at Range Post, a body of Natal Volunteers coming next, followed by the Gordons.  I waited at Range Post in the eager and refreshing wind till the column gradually dissolved into its camps, and all was still.  By eleven the rehearsal was over and I rode back to my end of the town.  To-night the civilians of the Town Guard went on picket by the river, and bore their trials boldly, though one of them got a crick in the neck.

     December 13, 1899.

The early part of the day was distinguished by a violent fire from the big gun of Bulwan upon the centre of the town and the riverside camps.  “Lady Anne” answered, for she has not yet been removed to her destined station on Waggon Hill.  In the intervals of their fire we could distinctly hear big guns far away near Colenso and the Tugela River.  They were chiefly English guns, for the explosion followed directly on the report, proving they were fired towards us.  The firing stopped about 10 a.m.

All morning our two howitzers, which have been brought down from Waggon Hill, pounded away at their old enemy, the 6 in. gun now placed on Telegraph Hill as I described.  They are close down by the Klip River, west of the old camp.  Their object is to drive the gun away as they drove him before, and certainly they gave him little rest.  He had hardly a chance of returning the fire; but when he had his shot was terribly effective, coming right into the top of our earthworks.  Equally interesting was the behaviour of two Boers who crept down from Thornhill’s farm among the rocks and began firing into our right rear.  I detected them by the little puffs of white smoke, for both had Martini’s.  But no one took the trouble to shoot them, though they harassed our gunners.  If there had been 50 instead of two they might have driven out our handful of men and tumbled the guns into the river.  For we had no support nearer than the steep top of King’s Post.  Happily Boers do not do such things.