An occasional shell from the big gun plumped among them.

One, through some freak of gunnery, lobbed slowly through a division, and the men whooped and threw their caps at it as it passed.

The guns on Swartz Kop, at a range of nearly five miles, tossed shells at the monster on Doornkloof, and finally blew up his powder magazine amid the applause of the infantry.

For the army it was a picnic and a spectacle.
But it was otherwise with the men up on Vaalkranz.

In spite of sangar and trench, that cross fire was finding them out; and no feint or demonstration on either side came to draw the concentrated fire from their position.