-room. But
I think the only man killed was a Carbineer, who had his throat cut by a
splinter as he lay asleep in his tent.

Just after midnight a very unusual thing happened. Each of the Boer guns
fired one shot. Apparently they were trained before sunset and fired at
a given signal. The shells woke me up, whistling over the roof. Most of
the townspeople rushed, lightly clad, to their holes and coverts. The
troops stood to arms. But the rest of the night was quiet.' Apparently
the Boers, contrary to their character, had only done it to annoy,
because they knew it teased us.

CHAPTER X

ENNUI ENLIVENED BY SUDDEN DEATH

LADYSMITH, _November 15, 1899_.

This drama is getting too long for the modern stage, and so far the
Dutch have obeyed none of the dramatic rules. To-day was one monotony of
rain, and may be blotted out from the memory of all but the men who lay
hour after hour miserably soaking upon the edges of the hills. After the
early morning not a shell was fired. The mist was too thick to allow
even of wild shots at the town.

I had another try at getting a Kaffir runner to carry a telegram through
to Estcourt.

_November 16, 1899._

The sun came back to cheer us up and warm our bones. At the Liverpools'
picket, on the Newcastle road, the men at six o'clock were rejoicing in
a glorious and soapy wash where the rain had left a pool in a quarry.
The day passed very quietly, shells only falling on an average of one
every half-hour. Unhappily a shrapnel scattered over the station,
wounded three or four natives, and killed an excellent railway guard--a
sharp fragment tearing through his liver and intestines. There was high
debate whether the shell was thrown by "Silent Susan," or what other
gun. Some even stuck out for "Long Tom" himself. But to the guard it
makes no difference, and he was most concerned.

Relief was to have come to us to-day for certain, but we hear nothing of
it beyond vague rumours of troops at Estcourt and Maritzburg. We are
slowly becoming convinced that we are to be left to our fate while the
main issue is settled elsewhere. Colonel Ward has organised the
provisions of the town and troops to last for eighty days. He is also
buying up all the beer and spirits, partly to cheer the soldiers' hearts
on these dreary wet nights; partly to prevent the soldier cheering
himself too much.

In the evening I sent off another runner with a telegram and quite a
mail of letters f