When we had tethered our horses at the foot of the bult, we climbed up slowly, but before we could fall into position the enemy opened a sharp fire at us.  We charged shouting ‘Hurrah!’ in wild enthusiasm, and fired as fast as we could straight ahead.  The sparks flew up some twenty paces in front of us, and even after the fight we could not tell whether they came from our own guns or from those of the enemy.  At intervals we heard the tick-tick-tick of a small Maxim, but owing to the dark we were not mown down.  Some of the burghers threw themselves down behind us, and involuntarily one thought of the proverb, ‘to hide in another’s blood.’  Whenever the firing slackened a few of our brave men charged, shouting out encouraging words, and again raised our enthusiasm.  Both burghers on my right and on my left were wounded.  The latter had a most demoralizing influence on the rest of the men, as he lay groaning and moaning in a heart-rending way.  He was only slightly wounded, and eventually escaped on horseback.  Our brave Commandant Botman went forward ten paces beyond the rest in his enthusiasm, and served as a target for the enemy.  He was severely wounded, but walked back without a moan and fell down close behind me.  I did not even know that he was wounded.  I turned round to see if the burghers behind me would not take the initiative in the inevitable flight, as I was ashamed to take it upon myself.  I did not take it at all amiss, therefore, when I saw several men looking round to see if the way were clear, and darting like an arrow back to their horses, for all round us our men were being shot down, and we did not know where the enemy’s camp was, nor could we tell the effect of our shooting in the dark.  A slight fog had arisen, through which the moon occasionally succeeded in dimly appearing.  The day had dawned; we reached our horses in the greatest disorder, and heightened the confusion by shouting inquiries to each other after friends and relatives.  Some did not wait to find their horses, but fled on foot; others jumped on strange horses.  Some even escaped on khaki horses that had strayed from the camp.

As my brother and I galloped off, a man fell wounded close behind us, and the bullet struck the ground between us.  The burghers rallied at a farm in the neighbourhood of the enemy’s camp.  Some of our men fled on, but most of them retreated with the guns to the commissariat trolleys, many without saddle, mackintosh or blanket, more hopelessly impoverished than ever, but not discouraged, for although the attack had been repulsed we were not defeated.

In this lay our strength, that we were not disheartened by our defeats, but were able constantly to rally and to renew the attack.  We kept on exhausting the enemy by slight skirmishes that are not worth relating, but their effect on the whole weakened him and strengthened us.

On our side that day there were forty wounded, but only a few killed.  It grieved us all that Commandant Botman had remained behind on the battle-field.  He was universally liked for his bravery and for his simple Christianity.  To our great joy, we heard later on that he had recovered, and had somehow succeeded in reaching Krugersdorp.  Fortunately, the fog prevented the enemy from doing us much harm, and towards afternoon our cannon put a stop to their advance.