The Devons went straight forward, coming into infantry fire as they crossed that low wave of ground in the middle of the valley.

On the further slope they were ordered to lie down and wait till the flanking movement was developed.

Happily the slope, as is usual in South Africa, was thickly spotted over with great ant-hills, beneath which the ant-eater digs his den.

Ant-heaps, hardened almost to brick, make excellent cover, and we lay down behind them on any bit of rock we could find, the fire being very hot, and the Mauser bullets making their unpleasant whiffle as they passed.

I think the first man hit was a private, who got a ball through his head by the ear.