But I am inspired by fever just now, and in duller moments I am still conscious that we have really had a fairly quiet day, as these days go.
"Long Tom" occupied the morning in shelling the camp of the Imperial Light Horse.

He threw twelve great shells in rapid succession into their midst, but as I watched not a single horse or man was even scratched.
The narrowest escape was when a great fragment flew through an open door and cut the leg clean off a table where Mr.Maud, of the _Graphic_, sat at work.

Two shells pitched in the river, which half encircles the camp, and for a moment a grand Trafalgar Square fountain of yellow water shot into the air.

A house near the gaol was destroyed, but no damage to man or beast resulted.
Soon afterwards, from the highest point of the Convent Hill, looking south-west over the Maritzburg road by Bluebank, I saw several hundred Boers cantering in two streams that met and passed in opposite directions.

They were apparently on the move between Colenso and Van Reenen's Pass; perhaps their movements implied visits to lovers, and a pleasant Sunday.