Considerable movements of troops were made.  Colenso and the kopjes about Fort Wylie were converted into a bridgehead, garrisoned by Talbot Coke’s Brigade.  A new line of communications was opened around the foot of Hlangwani.  A pontoon bridge (B) was arranged ready to be thrown below the falls of the river, not far from the still intact Boer bridge.  Hildyard’s English Brigade stood fast on the advanced low kopjes forming the extreme left of the line.  Hart’s command held its position about the slopes of Inniskilling Hill and in the gorge of the river.  Barton’s Fusilier Brigade, Kitchener’s Lancashire Brigade, and the two remaining battalions of Norcott’s (formerly Lyttelton’s) Brigade crossed the old bridge to the Hlangwani plateau.

All was now ready for the final attack on the left of the Pieters position, and in spite of the high quality of the Infantry it was generally recognised throughout the army that the fate of Ladysmith must depend on the success of the next day’s operations.  The spirit of the army was still undaunted, but they had suffered much from losses, exposure, and disappointment.

Since January 11, a period of more than six weeks, the troops had been continuously fighting and bivouacking.  The peaceful intervals of a few days had merely been in order to replenish stores and ammunition.  During this time the only reinforcements to reach the army had been a few drafts, a cavalry regiment, a horse battery, and some heavy guns.  Exclusive of the 1,100 casualties suffered at Colenso in December, the force, rarely more than 20,000 men, had had over 3,500 killed and wounded, had never had a single gleam of success, and had hardly seen the enemy who hit them so hard.

Colenso, Spion Kop, Vaal Krantz, and the third day at Pieters were not inspiring memories, and though everyone was cheered by the good news of the entanglement of Cronje’s army on the western side, yet it was felt that the attempt to be made on the morrow would be the last effort the Natal Field Army would be asked or allowed to make.  And oppressed by these reflections we went anxiously to rest on the eve of Majuba Day.

CHAPTER XXV

UPON MAJUBA DAY

Commandant’s Office.  Durban:  March 6, 1900.

Day broke behind a cloudy sky, and the bang of an early gun reminded us that a great business was on hand.  The bivouac of the Irregular Cavalry, which, since they had recrossed the river, had been set at the neck between Monte Cristo and Cingolo, was soon astir.  We arose—­all had slept in their boots and had no need to dress—­drank some coffee and rejoiced that the day promised to be cool.  It would help the infantry, and on the infantry all depended.

At half-past six Dundonald’s Brigade marched towards the northern end of the Hlangwani plateau, where we were to take up positions on the spurs of Monte Cristo and along the bluffs of the south bank of the Tugela, from which we might assist the infantry attack, and particularly the attack of Barton’s Brigade, by long-range rifle fire, and by our Colt battery and Maxim guns.  While we marched the artillery fire grew more rapid, as battery after battery joined in the bombardment; and when we reached the high wooded ridge which we were ordered to line, I could see our shells bursting merrily in the enemy’s trenches.