tor describes it, and riddled with bullets.

Who shall blame the Highlanders for retiring when they did? Viewed, not
by desperate and surprised men, but in all calmness and sanity, it may
well seem to have been the very best thing which they could do. Dashed
into chaos, separated from their officers, with no one who knew what
was to be done, the first necessity was to gain shelter from this deadly
fire, which had already stretched six hundred of their number upon the
ground. The danger was that men so shaken would be stricken with panic,
scatter in the darkness over the face of the country, and cease to exist
as a military unit. But the Highlanders were true to their character
and their traditions. There was shouting in the darkness, hoarse voices
calling for the Seaforths, for the Argylls, for Company C, for Company
H, and everywhere in the gloom there came the answer of the clansmen.
Within half an hour with the break of day the Highland regiments had
re-formed, and, shattered and weakened, but undaunted, prepared to renew
the contest. Some attempt at an advance was made upon the right, ebbing
and flowing, one little band even reaching the trenches and coming back
with prisoners and reddened bayonets. For the most part the men lay upon
their faces, and fired when they could at the enemy; but the cover which
the latter kept was so excellent that an officer who expended 120 rounds
has left it upon record that he never once had seen anything positive at
which to aim. Lieutenant Lindsay brought the Seaforths' Maxim into the
firing-line, and, though all her crew except two were hit, it continued
to do good service during the day. The Lancers' Maxim was equally
staunch, though it also was left finally with only the lieutenant in
charge and one trooper to work it.

Fortunately the guns were at hand, and, as usual, they were quick to
come to the aid of the distressed. The sun was hardly up before the
howitzers were throwing lyddite at 4000 yards, the three field batteries
(18th, 62nd, 75th) were working with shrapnel at a mile, and the troop
of Horse Artillery was up at the right front trying to enfilade the
trenches. The guns kept down the rifle-fire, and gave the wearied
Highlanders some respite from their troubles. The whole situation had
resolved itself now into another Battle of Modder River. The infantry,
under a fire at from six hundred to eight hundred paces, could not
advance and would not retire. The artillery only