across at us with
curiosity--not unmingled with uneasiness, we felt sure. They maintained
a rigid silence, and made no attempt to interfere with our arrangements
until the armoured train came into view. The ridges we occupied were
afterwards shelled, and the _Diamond Fields' Artillery_ responded. While
this not too bloody duel was in progress, a body of mounted men had
received instructions to take up a position away to the right of
Spitzkop.

It grew dark eventually, and we decided, or rather got orders, to remain
where we were for the night. Given a choice we would have done nothing
of the sort; it was chilly weather outside canvas; we had not come
prepared for a bivouac, and we had no great coats nor blankets. But they
were subsequently sent out to us. To satisfy the pangs of hunger, which
were asserting themselves with increasing importunity, we tried
(advisedly) the pockets of the coats, and there found the goods
required. There were belated "Guards" who got blankets _only_. How they
fared is not recorded, but I believe they asked for more! The firing had
by this time ceased on both sides; but the impression was that it would
be resumed early next morning; that a battle was imminent, and a sleep
desirable but not at all imminent. Our "beds" were too strange and cold
for sleep--as in the case of peaceful people when travel necessitates a
departure from feathers to planks of straw. We watched the play of the
searchlight, and were interested observers of a responsive gleam from
Modder River. The Column was there for a certainty. We had been
listening all day to the booming of guns, but had yet no idea that it
was connected with the battle of Modder River. Ultimately we ceased
chattering, and charmed _Morpheus_ at last--all unconscious of the sad
morrow.

For a sad morrow it was. The most tragic day of the siege! A rumour ran
riot that Scott-Turner had been killed; but the people _would not_
believe it. Colonel Scott-Turner dead! It was hard to convince the
populace of the fate of the gallant Colonel; harder still to inculcate
that over with him to the great majority had passed twenty-four of his
followers. But so it was. Of the survivors thirty were wounded!

Some seventy or eighty mounted men had attacked the Boers in possession
of Carter's Farm (which had been re-taken), and had carried the Farm in
the face of a withering fire from the enemy--who fell back upon a
stronger position. Nothing daunted, our men brough