the news, we
drifted into a series of discussions on the conduct of the war, and
the observance of the usages of war by both armies. _Audi alteram
partem_, and here I was hearing it with a vengeance. Two-thirds of
them spoke English, as nearly all in this laager were from Heidelberg.
They had about five charges against us of unfair fighting, and there
was not the slightest doubt of their complete conviction that each of
these charges was well founded and true. The worst of it was that in
every instance they had some circumstance, the result of mistake,
misconception, or individual wrongdoing, on which to raise a
formidable superstructure of generalised accusation. "We fired on the
Red Cross"--they instanced Elandslaagte and the battle of Nicholson's
Nek; in both instances their waggons were behind kopjes that our
gunners could not possibly see through. I threw them back their
similar offences--the afternoon of Nicholson's Nek and their firing
on the Town Hall hospital at Ladysmith. In the first instance, they
said our waggons were too far off to be distinguished, which I knew
was the case; and as regards the second, they argued that we had no
right to continue to fly the Red Cross over the Town Hall when they
had given us a neutral hospital camp outside at Intombi. Then had we
not a right to fly a Red Cross over our sick and wounded while they
had to wait for the next morning's train to bring them out to
hospital? I urged. "No; put them in your holes underground," was the
reply. We drifted into a discussion about dum-dum bullets, which they
claimed to have found in our abandoned camp at Dundee, and, from
seeing our doolies bearers, had fully made up their minds that we were
using Indian troops against them. I then let them have it straight
about their misuse of the white flag, which they denied.

[Illustration: Advance Of The Devons Before The Attack At
Elandslaagte.]

Every pause in our talk was filled by the sound of deep, loud chanting
coming from a tent hard by. Presently I went out to see them at their
evening service. A big tent was full of men squatting around, the
short twilight was fast darkening into night outside, and the interior
of the tent was lit by two candles stuck in the necks of bottles.
Except a couple of old men, they were all in the prime of life, and a
splendidly strong-looking set of fellows they were. They sang, without
any drawl or nasal intonation, straight out from their deep chests.
The