There was one sight visible every night to all men which might well nerve the rescuers in their enterprise.  Over the northern horizon, behind those hills of danger, there quivered up in the darkness one long, flashing, quivering beam, which swung up and down, and up again like a seraphic sword-blade.  It was Kimberley praying for help, Kimberley solicitous for news.  Anxiously, distractedly, the great De Beers searchlight dipped and rose.  And back across the twenty miles of darkness, over the hills where Cronje lurked, there came that other southern column of light which answered, and promised, and soothed.  ’Be of good heart, Kimberley.  We are here!  The Empire is behind us.  We have not forgotten you.  It may be days, or it may be weeks, but rest assured that we are coming.’

About three in the afternoon of Sunday, December 10th, the force which was intended to clear a path for the army through the lines of Magersfontein moved out upon what proved to be its desperate enterprise.  The 3rd or Highland Brigade included the Black Watch, the Seaforths, the Argyll and Sutherlands, and the Highland Light Infantry.  The Gordons had only arrived in camp that day, and did not advance until next morning.  Besides the infantry, the 9th Lancers, the mounted infantry, and all the artillery moved to the front.  It was raining hard, and the men with one blanket between two soldiers bivouacked upon the cold damp ground, about three miles from the enemy’s position.  At one o’clock, without food, and drenched, they moved forwards through the drizzle and the darkness to attack those terrible lines.  Major Benson, R.A., with two of Rimington’s scouts, led them on their difficult way.

Clouds drifted low in the heavens, and the falling rain made the darkness more impenetrable.  The Highland Brigade was formed into a column—­the Black Watch in front, then the Seaforths, and the other two behind.  To prevent the men from straggling in the night the four regiments were packed into a mass of quarter column as densely as was possible, and the left guides held a rope in order to preserve the formation.  With many a trip and stumble the ill-fated detachment wandered on, uncertain where they were going and what it was that they were meant to do.  Not only among the rank and file, but among the principal officers also, there was the same absolute ignorance.  Brigadier Wauchope knew, no doubt, but his voice was soon to be stilled in death.  The others were aware, of course, that they were advancing either to turn the enemy’s trenches or to attack them, but they may well have argued from their own formation that they could not be near the riflemen yet.  Why they should be still advancing in that dense clump we do not now know, nor can we surmise what thoughts were passing through the mind of the gallant and experienced chieftain who walked beside them.  There are some who claim on the night before to have seen upon his strangely ascetic face that shadow of doom which is summed up