unknown, the weary gasping horses panting at the traces,
the men, caked with sweat and dirt, urging them on into a last spasmodic
trot. The bodies of horses which had died of pure fatigue marked their
course, the sergeants' horses tugged in the gun-teams, and the sergeants
staggered along by the limbers. It was the 62nd Field Battery, which had
marched thirty-two miles in eight hours, and now, hearing the crash
of battle in front of them, had with one last desperate effort thrown
itself into the firing line. Great credit is due to Major Granet and his
men. Not even those gallant German batteries who saved the infantry at
Spicheren could boast of a finer feat.

Now it was guns against guns, and let the best gunners win! We had
eighteen field-guns and the naval pieces against the concealed cannon of
the enemy. Back and forward flew the shells, howling past each other
in mid-air. The weary men of the 62nd Battery forgot their labours
and fatigues as they stooped and strained at their clay-coloured
15-pounders. Half of them were within rifle range, and the limber horses
were the centre of a hot fire, as they were destined to be at a shorter
range and with more disastrous effect at the Tugela. That the same
tactics should have been adopted at two widely sundered points shows
with what care the details of the war had been pre-arranged by the Boer
leaders. 'Before I got my horses out,' says an officer, 'they shot one
of my drivers and two horses and brought down my own horse. When we got
the gun round one of the gunners was shot through the brain and fell at
my feet. Another was shot while bringing up shell. Then we got a look
in.' The roar of the cannon was deafening, but gradually the British
were gaining the upper hand. Here and there the little knolls upon the
further side which had erupted into constant flame lay cold and silent.
One of the heavier guns was put out of action, and the other had been
withdrawn for five hundred yards. But the infantry fire still crackled
and rippled along the trenches, and the guns could come no nearer
with living men and horses. It was long past midday, and that unhappy
breakfast seemed further off than ever.

As the afternoon wore on, a curious condition of things was established.
The guns could not advance, and, indeed, it was found necessary to
withdraw them from a 1200 to a 2800-yard range, so heavy were the
losses. At the time of the change the 75th Battery had lost three
officers out