The thing began at grey dawn.  Chester Master and two or three Guides were sent forward to reconnoitre a kopje where the Boers the day before had had a gun.  We found the gun gone.  Some marks of blood, a half-dug grave, and two dead horses, showed that the fire of our long naval gun had been more or less effective.  We then rode on, the column we were guiding getting gradually into formation, and we were just mounting the next ridge, when down in the valley beneath we saw a long line of waggons, stretching away eastward for miles, dragged by huge bullock teams.  They were making the best of their way forward, each with a party of mounted men riding at the side, and at the first glance, so close to our army and camp were they, I almost fancied it must be a convoy of our own.  However, we realised what was up pretty quickly.  The Boers, hearing of French’s flank march, and fearing they would be cut off if they remained, were abandoning their position in the hills about Magersfontein, which they had intrenched so strongly, and were quietly and promptly moving off towards Bloemfontein.  The rearguard of their line was at that moment just opposite to us.

Chester Master immediately sent back an orderly as hard as he could go to tell our fellows what was in front and hurry them up, every moment being now of the utmost importance if we wanted to intercept the enemy.  The Boers themselves took their measures instantly and with their usual coolness.  A long line of kopjes ran eastward across the plain, flanking the line of their march, and directly they saw they were discovered, their horsemen dashed forward and began to occupy these, thus guarding the right flank of their retreat from our attack.  Seeing this, Chester Master galloped back himself to urge on our Mounted Infantry, who were now mustering rapidly to the attack.

From the kopje on the extreme left front, where we were, we could now see extended at our feet the whole plan of the approaching battle, while as yet the two sides were invisible to each other.  In the valley on the north side of the kopjes the Boers were urging on their convoy and rapidly despatching their sharpshooters to hold the hills along their right.  On the south side were the masses of our columns, with the squadrons of Mounted Infantry now detaching themselves from the main body, and beginning to stream across the level plain towards the same hills; all with heads bent one way, horses prancing and pulling, and with all the signs of eager excitement, as though they divined, though as yet they could not see, the presence of the enemy.  Over the dusty plain they canter, but they are too late by a few minutes.  The Boers are there already, and as the Mounted Infantry come along, passing close beneath us, an outbreak of rifle-fire occurs, and the dry plain, which is of perfectly bare earth, is dotted with little white puffs of dust as the bullets strike along it.  The fire is a bit short, but schooled by this time in “kopje tactics,”