a shell having descended through the roof and come out by
the door.

It grew ever more and more difficult to communicate with the relieving
forces, as the Kaffir runners stood in fear of their lives, many having
been killed during their hazardous journeys. Shells from "Long Tom" and
the new gun on Bulwana continued to cause horror in the daytime and to
pursue uninterruptedly their mission of mutilation. The porch of the
English Church was destroyed, several rooms of houses wrecked, and
splinters and flying fragments of brick and rock kept all who moved
abroad in a state of suspense and mental anxiety. No! not _all_. There
was one imperturbable Scot who occupied a house between the Naval guns
and the Boer position, who watched the havoc played by the shells in his
house or garden, and occasionally applauded with the remark, "Aye, aye!
Lord, man, that wuz a hummin'-bird damned weel hatched!"

[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF PAGE OF NEWSPAPER PUBLISHED IN LADYSMITH
DURING THE SIEGE.]

On the 21st an inhuman action defaced the ordinary programme of warfare.
As before said, the Town Hall had been turned into a hospital for sick,
and this, by reason of its conspicuous clock-tower with the red flag
flying above it, made a convenient mark for the shots of the enemy. In
spite of all remonstrances, the Boer commandant proceeded to batter the
place with shell after shell, with the result that on one occasion the
wing of the hall was destroyed, fortunately without loss of life, and on
another, a shell breaking through the roof, some nine poor patients were
wounded and one killed. The General had chosen this way of expressing
his annoyance that his proposed arrangements were not complied with. He
had insisted that the wounded should be taken to the neutral camp at
Intombi, where they would have been virtually prisoners. This could not
be allowed, and therefore he was evidently determined, out of spite, to
make the life of the unhappy sick in the hospital a long-drawn agony.
They were helpless, stricken in body and nerve, and the perpetual
crashing of bursting steel, the rending of buildings in their vicinity,
was almost worse than the pang of actual death. Still, in spite of
everything, the garrison bore up wonderfully and tried to put a good
face on matters. A message sent out on the 25th of November, even showed
signs of spurious jocosity. The writer said, "Shells and flies very
numerous, but the latter more annoying." There was a