Two hundred yards intervened between the wall and the crest of the kopje.

And yet the kopje had to be cleared if the battle were to be won.
Out of the huddled line of crouching men an officer sprang shouting, and a score of soldiers vaulted over the wall and followed at his heels.

It was Captain Connor, of the Irish Fusiliers, but his personal magnetism carried up with him some of the Rifles as well as men of his own command.

He and half his little forlorn hope were struck down--he, alas! to die the same night--but there were other leaders as brave to take his place.

'Forrard away, men, forrard away!' cried Nugent, of the Rifles.
Three bullets struck him, but he continued to drag himself up the boulder-studded hill.