he shell came tearing madly in, with a shrill, a
blast. A mountain of earth, and a hailstorm of stones on iron roofs.
Houses winced at the buffet. Men ran madly away from it. A dog rushed
out yelping--and on the yelp, from the other quarter, came the next
shell. Along the broad straight street not a vehicle, not a white man
was to be seen. Only a herd of niggers cowering under flimsy fences at a
corner.

Another crash and quaking, and this time in a cloud of dust an
outbuilding jumped and tumbled asunder. A horse streaked down the street
with trailing halter. Round the corner scurried the niggers: the next
was due from Pepworth's.

Then the tearing scream: horror! it was coming from Bulwan.

Again the annihilating blast, and not ten yards away. A roof gaped and a
house leaped to pieces. A black reeled over, then terror plucked him up
again, and sent him running.

Head down, hands over ears, they tore down the street, and from the
other side swooped down the implacable, irresistible next.

You come out of the dust and the stench of melinite, not knowing where
you were, hardly knowing whether you were hit--only knowing that the
next was rushing on its way. No eyes to see it, no limbs to escape, no
bulwark to protect, no army to avenge. You squirm between iron fingers.

Nothing to do but endure.

XV.

IN A CONNING-TOWER.

THE SELF-RESPECTING BLUEJACKET--A GERMAN ATHEIST--THE SAILORS'
TELEPHONE--WHAT THE NAVAL GUNS MEANT TO LADYSMITH--THE SALT OF THE
EARTH.

LADYSMITH, _Dec. 6._

"There goes that stinker on Gun Hill," said the captain. "No, don't get
up; have some draught beer."

I did have some draught beer.

"Wait and see if he fires again. If he does we'll go up into the
conning-tower, and have both guns in action toge--"

Boom! The captain picked up his stick.

"Come on," he said.

We got up out of the rocking-chairs, and went out past the swinging
meat-safe, under the big canvas of the ward-room, with its table piled
with stuff to read. Trust the sailor to make himself at home. As we
passed through the camp the bluejackets rose to a man and lined up
trimly on either side. Trust the sailor to keep his self-respect, even
in five weeks' beleaguered Ladysmith.

Up a knee-loosening ladder of rock, and we came out on to the green
hill-top, where they first had their camp. Among the orderly trenches,
the sites of the deported tents, were rougher irregular blotches of
hole--footpr