LADYSMITH
It was exciting work as the mounted horse under Lord
Dundonald rode along. As far as could be seen
from the various points in our possession the passage
was clear, but experience had taught how the Boers
would lie quiet, even when in large numbers, while
scouts were passing close to them. At Colenso
Colonel Long had sent two mounted men on ahead of his
battery. They had been permitted to pass within
a hundred yards of thousands of Boers among the bushes
on the river bank, and had even crossed the bridge
and returned without a rifle shot being fired or a
Boer showing his head. And it was on their report
that there were apparently no Boers in the neighbourhood
that the batteries were pushed forward into the fatal
trap prepared for them. So Chris and his companions,
at the rear of the colonial cavalry, trotted along
ready at a moment’s notice to swing round their
rifles for instant action. They watched every
stone and clump of bushes on the slopes of the valley
for any foe that might be lurking there, and who at
any moment might pour out a rain of bullets into the
column. Very few words were spoken on the way,
the tension was too great. They knew that Ladysmith
had telegraphed that the Boers appeared to be everywhere
falling back. But a few thousands of their best
fighting men might have remained to strike one terrible
blow at the troops who in open fight had shown themselves
their superiors, and had driven them from position
after position that they believed impregnable.
However, as one after another of the spots where an
ambuscade would be likely to be laid passed, and there
were still no signs of the enemy, the keenness of
the watch began to abate, and the set expression of
the faces to relax. Then as the hills receded
and the valley opened before them a pleasurable excitement
succeeded the grim expectation of battle. The
task that had proved so hard was indeed fulfilled;
the Boers were gone, and the siege of Ladysmith was
at an end. As they emerged from the valley into
the plain in which Ladysmith is situated, there was
an insensible increase of speed; men talked joyously
together, scarcely waiting for replies; the horses
seemed to catch the infection of their riders’
spirits, and the pennons of the Lancers in front to
flutter more gaily. Onward they swept, cantering
now until they approached the town.
Then men could be seen running towards the road; from
every house they poured out, men and women, some waving
hats and handkerchiefs, some too much overpowered
by their feelings for outward demonstrations.
As the columns reached this point they broke into
a walk, and answered with ringing cheers the fainter
but no less hearty hurrahs of those they came to rescue;
and yet the troopers themselves were scarcely less
affected than the crowd that pressed round to shake
them by the hand. They had known that provisions
were nearly exhausted in the city, and that for some
