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It was an unequal fight, but gallantly
sustained. A shot and another to find the range; then a wreath of
smoke from a bursting shell exactly where the guns had been,
followed by another and another. Overmatched, the two Boer pieces
relapsed into a sulky silence, broken now and again by short spurts
of frenzied activity. The British batteries turned their attention
away from them, and began to search the ridge with shrapnel and
prepare the way for the advancing infantry.
The scheme was that the Devonshires should hold the enemy in front
while the main attack from the left flank was carried out by the
Gordons, the Manchesters, and the Imperial Light Horse. The words
'front' and 'flank,' however, cease to have any meaning with so
mobile and elastic a force, and the attack which was intended to
come from the left became really a frontal one, while the Devons
found themselves upon the right flank of the Boers. At the moment
of the final advance the great black cloud had burst, and a torrent
of rain lashed into the faces of the men.


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