before from those very hills I had admired; at any time it might
be shelled again. The nose of a big gun was pointed out to me by a
blasphemous little private in the Devons. It was a tremendous, a
profoundly impressive, black snout. His opinions of the directing wisdom
at home were unquotable. The platform was a wild confusion of women and
children and colored people,--there was even an invalid lady on a
stretcher. Every non-combatant who could be got out of Ladysmith was
being hustled out that day. Everyone was smarting with the sense of
defeat in progress, everyone was disappointed and worried; one got short
answers to one's questions. For a time I couldn't even find out where I
had to go....

Sec. 2

I fired my first shot at a fellow-creature within four days of my
arrival. We rode out down the road to the south to search some hills,
and found the Boers in fair strength away to the east of us. We were
dismounted and pushed up on foot through a wood to a grassy crest. There
for the first time I saw the enemy, little respectable-looking
unsoldierlike figures, mostly in black, dodging about upon a ridge
perhaps a mile away. I took a shot at one of these figures just before
it vanished into a gully. One or two bullets came overhead, and I tried
to remember what I had picked up about cover. They made a sound,
_whiff-er-whiff_, a kind of tearing whistle, and there was nothing but a
distant crackling to give one a hint of their direction until they took
effect. I remember the peculiar smell of the grass amidst which I
crouched, my sudden disgust to realize I was lying, and had to lie now
for an indefinite time, in the open sunlight and far from any shade, and
how I wondered whether after all I had wanted to come to this war.

We lay shooting intermittently until the afternoon, I couldn't
understand why; we went forward a little, and at last retired upon
Ladysmith. On the way down to the horses, I came upon my first dead man.
He was lying in a crumpled heap not fifty yards from where I had been
shooting. There he lay, the shattered mirror of a world. One side of his
skull over the ear had been knocked away by a nearly spent bullet, and
he was crumpled up and face upward as though he had struggled to his
feet and fallen back. He looked rather horrible, with blue eyes wide
open and glassily amazed, and the black flies clustering upon his
clotted wound and round his open mouth....

I halted for a moment at the sight, and