The men pressed on in silence, the soft thudding of their feet and the rattle of their sidearms filling the air with a low and continuous murmur.

An additional solemnity was given to the attack by that huge black cloud which hung before them.
The British guns had opened at a range of 4400 yards, and now against the swarthy background there came the quick smokeless twinkle of the Boer reply.

It was an unequal fight, but gallantly sustained.

A shot and another to find the range; then a wreath of smoke from a bursting shell exactly where the guns had been, followed by another and another.
Overmatched, the two Boer pieces relapsed into a sulky silence, broken now and again by short spurts of frenzied activity.

The British batteries turned their attention away from them, and began to search the ridge with shrapnel and prepare the way for the advancing infantry.
The scheme was that the Devonshires should hold the enemy in front while the main attack from the left flank was carried out by the Gordons, the Manchesters, and the Imperial Light Horse.