He has been a good deal shot at; so has the Duke, and so
has the General. They have had to use their Mauser pistols. This sort of
thing should not happen. Then where was French? Checked, indeed! a
pretty fine thing! And the Guards? The Guards were somewhere where they
had no business to be, instead of being somewhere else. Would any one
kindly tell him why the Guards were not somewhere else? And Churchill
(he has a face like a good-natured child, and looks about fourteen) eyes
the old colonels, who fidget nervously round the fire like disturbed
hens. He talks and argues incessantly, but very cleverly. Before he goes
he dashes off a sketch of South Africa's future with a few words about
farming and gold-mining. He gives us a cup of hot cocoa all round, which
he produces from nowhere, like a conjuring trick, re-arranges our fire,
tells us when the war will be over, and strolls off (daring the old
colonels with his eye to so much as look at him) to the farm to give the
General his final instructions about to-morrow's action.
Next day our infantry established itself on the lower step of the Boer
position, but the final ridge still remained in their hands. It was a
ding-dong fight between the two, for the positions were within
half-rifle shot of each other. However, we could not turn them out,
though we got a field-battery right up in the firing line, which cracked
shrapnel over them as hard as ever it could load and fire.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162