rning some little farms and kraals which
sheltered the Boer scouts. As I look towards the Bulwan I see the yellow
blaze of their fires.

_Sunday, November 12, 1899._

Amid all the estimable qualities of the Boer race there is none more
laudable than their respect for the Sabbath day. It has been a calm and
sunny day. Not a shot was fired--no sniping even. We feel like grouse on
a pious Highland moor when Sunday comes, and even the laird dares not
shoot. The cave dwellers left their holes and flaunted in the light of
day. In the main street I saw a perambulator, stuffed with human young.
Pickets and outposts stretched their limbs in the sun. Soldiers off duty
scraped the clods off their boots and polished up their bayonets.
Officers shaved and gloried over a leisurely breakfast. For myself, I
washed my shirt and hung it on the line of fire to dry.

In the morning one of the Irish Brigade rode in through the Liverpools'
picket. He was "fed up" with the business, as the soldiers say. He
reported that only about seventy of the Brigade were left. He also said
the Boer commandants were holding a great meeting to-day--whether for
psalms or strategy I don't know; probably both. We heard the usual
rumours that the Boers were going or had gone. Climbing to the
Manchesters' post for the view, I could see three Boer trains waiting at
Modder's Spruit station, about six miles up the Newcastle line. Did they
bring reinforcements, or were they waiting to take "Long Tom" home by
return ticket? We shall know to-morrow. Over the valley where we
repulsed Thursday's attack, the vultures flew as thick as swifts upon
the Severn at twilight. Those were the only signs of war--those and the
little forts which hid the guns. Otherwise the enormous landscape lay at
peace. I have never seen it so clear--the precipitous barrier of the
Basuto mountains, lined with cloud, and still touched with snow: the
great sculptured mountains that mark the Free State border: and then the
scenes which have become so familiar to us all--Elands Laagte, Tinta
Inyoni, Pepworth Hill, Lombard's Kop, and the great Bulwan. Turning to
the south we looked across to the nearer hills, beyond which lie
Colenso, Estcourt, and the road to Maritzburg and the sea. It is from
beyond those hills that our help is coming.

The Boers have many estimable qualities. They are one of the few
admirable races still surviving, and they conduct this siege with real
consideration and