lly knew no bounds. We hear of one man who at last marched into
Ladysmith with two coat sleeves but no coat; of another with not a bit
of khaki about him, but garments of one sort and another 'commandeered'
as he went along. One of the facts that impressed them most as they
marched into Ladysmith was that the garrison were clean and neatly
dressed in khaki, but that _they_--bearded, dirty, ragged--looked rather
the rescued than the rescuers!

Mr. Lowry tells how when at last he determined to have his khaki suit
washed, and retired to his tent to wait the arrival of his clothes from
the amateur laundry on the banks of the Modder, it seemed as though they
would never come, and he was fearful lest the order to advance should
arrive before his one suit returned from the wash!

But through it all our men kept cheerful. One Christian man who had
earned among his comrades the nickname of 'Smiler,' and who was wounded,
signs himself, 'Still smiling, with a hole in my back.' And this was
typical of all. During that dreadful march to overtake Cronje, the
officers of the Guards had as their mess-table on one occasion a
rectangular ditch about eighteen inches wide and as many deep. It was
dug so as to enclose an oblong piece of ground about sixteen feet by
eight, which, flattened as much as possible, served as table. At this
earth table, with their feet in the muddy ditch, sat several
representatives of England's nobility, but as our soldier lad said,
'Still smiling.' When the rain came down and deluged both officers and
men, and sleep was impossible, tentless on the veldt and seated in the
mud, the men hour after hour sang defiance to the storm.

How kind they were to one another! How brave to save a fallen comrade or
officer! One of our chaplains relates that in the advance to Ladysmith
an officer was struck down and could not be moved. When the regiment
retired, and his men knew their officer would have to stay there during
the night, four of them elected to remain, and one of them lay at his
head, another at his feet, and one on each side to shield him from the
Boer bullets which were flying around.

But we must not be tempted into stories such as these. They abound, and
if the Victoria Cross could be given wherever it was deserved, the sight
of it upon the breast would be common indeed!

=Their Dread of the 'Pom-pom.'=

Of one thing, however, our men were afraid--the dreaded 'pom-pom' of the
Boers. Some two hundred one