t, and the
fusiliers, with the ill-luck which has pursued the 2nd battalion, were
outnumbered and outfought by better skirmishers than themselves.

Seldom has a General found himself in a more trying position than
Clements, or extricated himself more honourably. Not only had he lost
nearly half his force, but his camp was no longer tenable, and his whole
army was commanded by the fringe of deadly rifles upon the cliff. From
the berg to the camp was from 800 to 1000 yards, and a sleet of bullets
whistled down upon it. How severe was the fire may be gauged from the
fact that the little pet monkey belonging to the yeomanry--a small
enough object--was hit three times, though he lived to survive as
a battle-scarred veteran. Those wounded in the early action found
themselves in a terrible position, laid out in the open under a
withering fire, 'like helpless Aunt Sallies,' as one of them described
it. 'We must get a red flag up, or we shall be blown off the face of the
earth,' says the same correspondent, a corporal of the Ceylon Mounted
Infantry. 'We had a pillow-case, but no red paint. Then we saw what
would do instead, so they made the upright with my blood, and the
horizontal with Paul's.' It is pleasant to add that this grim flag was
respected by the Boers. Bullocks and mules fell in heaps, and it was
evident that the question was not whether the battle could be restored,
but whether the guns could be saved. Leaving a fringe of yeomen, mounted
infantry, and Kitchener's Horse to stave off the Boers, who were already
descending by the same steep kloof up which the yeomen had climbed, the
General bent all his efforts to getting the big naval gun out of danger.
Only six oxen were left out of a team of forty, and so desperate did
the situation appear that twice dynamite was placed beneath the gun to
destroy it. Each time, however, the General intervened, and at last,
under a stimulating rain of pom-pom shells, the great cannon lurched
slowly forward, quickening its pace as the men pulled on the drag-ropes,
and the six oxen broke into a wheezy canter. Its retreat was covered by
the smaller guns which rained shrapnel upon the crest of the hill, and
upon the Boers who were descending to the camp. Once the big gun was out
of danger, the others limbered up and followed, their rear still covered
by the staunch mounted infantry, with whom rest all the honours of the
battle. Cookson and Brooks with 250 men stood for hours between Cleme