The cloud was drifting up, and it could not be long
before it would burst.
Two days later, on the early morning of October 20th, the forces
came at last into collision. At half-past three in the morning,
well before daylight, the mounted infantry picket at the junction
of the roads from Landmans and Vants Drifts was fired into by the
Doornberg commando, and retired upon its supports. Two companies of
the Dublin Fusiliers were sent out, and at five o'clock on a fine
but misty morning the whole of Symons's force was under arms with
the knowledge that the Boers were pushing boldly towards them. The
khaki-clad lines of fighting men stood in their long thin ranks
staring up at the curves of the saddle-back hills to the north and
east of them, and straining their eyes to catch a glimpse of the
enemy. Why these same saddle-back hills were not occupied by our
own people is, it must be confessed, an insoluble mystery. In a
hollow on one flank were the 18th Hussars and the mounted infantry.
On the other were the eighteen motionless guns, limbered up and
ready, the horses fidgeting and stamping in the raw morning air.
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