ith the daylight. Something big happening at
Ladysmith--hell of a cannonade--never heard anything like it--worse than
Colenso--what do you think of it? But I was without opinion; nor did I
find anyone anxious to pronounce. Meanwhile the firing was maintained,
and we breakfasted to its accompaniment. Until half-past ten there was
not the slightest diminution or intermission. As the day advanced,
however, it gradually died away, showing either that the fight was over,
or, as it afterwards turned out, that it had passed into the hands of
riflemen.

We all spent an anxious morning speculating on the reason and result of
the engagement. About noon there arrived an unofficial message by
heliograph, which the young officer at the signal station confided to
his friends. It was brief. 'General attack all sides by
Boers--everywhere repulsed--but fight still going on.'

At one o'clock, just as were sitting down to luncheon, came an orderly
at full gallop with the order for the whole force in Chieveley to turn
out at once. Whereat the camp, till then dormant under the midday sun,
sprang to life like a disturbed ant-hill. Some said we were about to
make a regular attack on Colenso, while many of the covering army of
Boers were busy at Ladysmith. Others suggested a night assault--with the
bayonet. The idea was very pleasant to the hearts of the infantry. But I
soon learned that no serious operation was in contemplation, and that
the force was merely to make a demonstration before Colenso with the
object of bringing some of the Boers back from Ladysmith, and of so
relieving the pressure on Sir George White.

The demonstration was, however, a very imposing affair. First of all the
mounted forces threw out a long fringe of patrols all along the front.
Behind this the squadrons made a line of black bars. The mounted
infantry, Bethune's Horse, and the Natal Carabineers formed the left:
the South African Light Horse the centre, and the 13th Hussars and
Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry twisted back to watch the right. Behind
this curtain marched the infantry, Hildyard's brigade on the right,
Barton's on the left, line after line of brown men ten yards apart, two
hundred yards between the lines, spreading in this open formation over a
wide expanse of country, and looking a mighty swarm. Behind these again
dark blocks of artillery and waggons moved slowly forward. Behind, and
above all, the naval battery began to throw its shells into the vi