But the ordinary Boers--the armed and mounted peasants--still clung to their rocks as though nothing could drive them out.
One big man in black I watched for what seemed a very long time.

He was standing right against the sky line, sometimes waving his arm, apparently to give directions.

Shells burst over his head, and bullets must have been thick round him.

Once or twice he fell, as though slipping on the rocks, for the rain had begun again.

But he always reappeared, till at last shrapnel exploded right in his face, and he sank together like a dropped rag.