attack, had heard the rustle and murmur of the retirement, and thinking, as at Spion Kop, that they in turn were being attacked, discharged their rifles with one accord and fled, their flight hastened by hurried volleys from the skeleton line of men left by the rear regiment to hold the crest until the main body was safely away. Then all was silent, and the sections of fours began to flow over the bridge again. At length all were over, and the heavy waggons of the pontoon-train rolled up from somewhere in the background, the sappers went down to the bridge, and the work of demolition began.

It was now midnight, and intensely dark; behind, the army was in full retreat: very lonely felt the four companies lying chilled and watchful along the damp misty riverbank, and many were the objurgations uttered against the slowness of the Engineers. But the Engineers were not slow; to and fro with perfect method and order moved the stream of workers, some towards the waggons, staggering beneath the ponderous boats, which loomed up from the dark river-bed like some gigantic ichthyosaurus, others pacing smartly along with the "chesses," or roadway planks, others clinging toad-like to the structure itself, struggling

with knots and lashings, whilst all the time a constant stream of "empties" flowed the reverse way down to the bridge again to seize upon some other portion of the diminishing pontoon, and then to fall in queue again with their load up to the waggons. But though the Engineers worked their best and hardest, and very good and very hard must be the work that Major Irvine labels "best," it seemed an age to us, lying on tenter-hooks alongside, with the whole Boer army in front and our comrades leaving us farther and farther every moment behind. But it is a long bridge that has no ending, and about 1 A.M. the last plank came up, the heavy waggons were set in motion, and, with their infantry escort, began the journey towards the rear.

And so we will leave them, disappearing back into the darkness, bearing with them the last link that joined Boer and Briton in combat on the never-to-be-forgotten field of Vaal Krantz. British soldiers will cross that riddled pontoon but once more, on their way to what the world, at any rate, counts a higher virtue than Faith, or Hope, or CharitySuccess.

VI.

THE BATTLE OF PIETER'S HILL.

SPRINGFIELD CAMP again until February 10, only one idle day, on which the army mopped its brow and took deep breaths. Thence on the 10th to Pretorius Farm, and before dawn on the 11th across to Chieveley once more, pursued during the hours of darkness by a Boer searchlight from Grobler's Kloof, which roved like an angry eye from end to end of our line of march. At Chieveley two peaceful days in a lovely mimosa-forest on the southern bank of the Blaukrantz stream, with most of the army revelling in the cold pools all day under the semi-tropical sun. A beautiful corner of Natal this, the scenery a mixture of Norway, Scotland, and the New Forest wooded hills, stony, rushing streams, and tangled bottoms.

In the following article I have briefly referred to the operations preceding the battle of Pieter's

Hill. As no writer has as yet done anything more, a rapid description may not be out of place here, forming as they did the clef of the whole successful rush which relieved Ladysmith. The seizure of Hussar Hill on the 14th (it had been occupied already and abandoned on the 12th) was child's play, a short and sharp bombardment, a dash by the cavalry, who just missed capturing the picket upon it, and the whole column was streaming across its steep wooded sides, bivouacking luxuriously there the day and night of the 15th. On the 16th, whilst heavy guns were being brought up, under an accurate shell - fire from Hlangwani and the heights to the north, the infantry were sent plunging through the intersected country to the east of the hill, reconnoitring towards Cingolo, a long flat mountain joined by a deep nek to another, Monte Cristo, of exactly similar shape to the northward. Below the forward foot of the latter, which is one dense mass of tropical shrubs and cactus, flows the Tugela in a profound and splendid ravine, and beyond a level plain stretching to Bulwana. To the left can be seen the reverse side of the Colenso position, with Hlangwani, an amorphous mass of rocks, trees, and fortifications slightly to the left rear, and between, Green Hill, a grassy flat

strongly intrenched. To the right a succession of kopjes and valleys towards Weenen. Monte Cristo once in our hands, Colenso was untenable; one could bombard its backyard, so to speak, and so one strong wall between us and the starving division in Ladysmith would be flung down.

I have elsewhere condemned the Boer strategy; it was never more futile than at this period. It may be that our previous stupidity was here our salvation. Botha could not believe that so astute a movement could be our real attack, and looked for it as before from some obvious and foolish direction. The reconnaissance mentioned above might have given him him an inkling: it found the twin mountains weakly held, there was a slight interchange of fire, and the troops returned to their bivouac without loss, and not daring to believe that their task was going to be as easy as it looked.

Next day all guesses were but history: Cingolo was assaulted and taken. Lyttelton's Division (Hildyard's and Norcott's brigades) with Wynne's Brigade added, formed the attack, and of these by far the greater part of the work fell to Hildyard's men, the English brigade of Queen's, Devons, West Yorkshire, and East Surrey. The three latter regiments,