...
Our guns were rapidly trained on the spot, our men placed in position,
and we waited.
I ran into the tent to telegraph the news to Colenso. No reply to my
hasty call. The wire is cut!
"Go at once," said the chief, "and repair the line."
As I rode off the mist cleared, and a few minutes later the fight had
begun. The cable ran about a thousand yards behind our firing line, and
as I went along, my eyes fixed on the wire, the noise of the battle
sounded in my ears like the roar of a prairie fire. Jagged pieces of
shell came whizzing past, shrieking like vampires in their hunt for
human flesh.
Searching carefully for the fault, my progress was slow, and it was
afternoon when the Johannesburg laager was reached. Here I found a
despatch-rider, who said that reinforcements had arrived at Spion Kop
early in the morning, that our men had immediately climbed the hill, and
that, the issue being very, uncertain, we might have to retreat during
the night.
The line was still interrupted, although I had repaired several faults.
I accordingly rode back to Spion Kop early the next morning. When I
entered the laager it was to find that all the waggons had already
retreated, and the tents standing deserted. Not quite deserted, for in
one of them half a dozen bodies were lying. The enemy had unexpectedly
retired during the night, and the entire commando was now on the hill,
gazing at the plentiful harvest reaped by our Nordenfeldts.
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