troops, all of whom suffered.

It was all over by a quarter-past three. The Dragoon Guards, who had
been trying to cover the retreat, galloped back, one or two horses
galloping riderless. Under the Red Cross flag the dhoolies then began to
go out to pick up the results of the battle. For an hour or so that work
lasted, the dead and dying being found among the ant-hills where they
fell. Then we all trailed back, the enemy shelling our line of retreat
from three sides, and we in such a mood that we cared very little for
shells or anything else.

_November 4, 1899._

This morning Sir George White sent Joubert a letter by Major Bateson,
asking leave for the non-combatants, women and children to go down to
Maritzburg. The morning was quiet, most people packing up in hopes of
going. But Joubert's answer put an end to that. The wounded, women,
children, and other non-combatants might be collected in some place
about four miles from the town, but could go no further. All who
remained would be treated as combatants. I don't know what other answer
Joubert could have given. It was a mistake to ask the favour at all. But
the General advised the town to accept the proposal. At a strange and
unorganised public meeting on the steps of the Ionic Public Hall, now a
hospital, the people indignantly rejected the terms. Leave our women and
children at Intombi's Spruit--the bushy spot fixed upon, five miles
away--with Boers creeping round them, perhaps using them as a screen for
attack! Britons never, never will! The Mayor hesitated, the Archdeacon
was eloquent, the Scotch proved the metaphysical impossibility of the
scheme. Amid shouts and cheers and waving parasols the people raised the
National Anthem, and for once there was some dignity in that inferior
tune. Everybody's life was in danger for "The Queen." The proposal to
leave the town was flung back with defiance. Rather let our homes be
flattened out!

To-night my grey-haired Cape-boy and my Zulu came to me in silence and
tears. They had hoped for escape. They longed for the peace of
Maritzburg, and now, like myself, they were bottled up amid "pom-poms."
Had I not promised never to bring them into danger--always to leave
them snug in the rear? They were devoted to my service. Others ran. Them
no thought of safety could induce to leave me. But one had a wife and
descendants, the other had ancestors. It was pitiful. Better savages
never loomed out of blackness. In sorrow I