144 TALES OF A NOMAD. 



Accordingly, in order to anticipate the enemy, we 

 built a small circular work capable of containing about 

 twenty men upon the site of these stones. This work 

 was about a couple of hundred yards beyond the end 

 of the street of huts which constituted the lines. 



It consisted merely of a ditch with the soil thrown 

 inwards. Inside was a little banquette on which to 

 kneel when firing through the loopholes. 



The soil just here consisted of a sort of shale or 

 pudding stone, and was not particularly well adapted 

 to resist artillery, for a shot passing through it would 

 have the effect of sending stones flying about. 



There was about 700 yards from this little work a 

 kopje, or hill covered with rocks. The Boers occupied 

 this, and mounting the guns in natural embrasures formed 

 by the rocks prepared to open fire. 



It was that day above all others sacred to sweet con- 

 cord and harmony in the Isle of Erin the day dedicated 

 to Saint Patrick when a loud boom, followed by the 

 humming of a cannon-shot in its passage through the 

 air, announced that the Boers had at last opened fire 

 upon the outwork. 



All the afternoon the fire continued, but the practice 

 was indifferent, and the balls generally flew too high and 

 went bounding and ricochetting away over the plain. 



However, it excited us and kept away melancholy. 

 I never saw our commander look so cheerful. He was 

 positively radiant. 



That night I went up to the outwork with the relief. 

 It consisted partly of men of the 94th and partly of 

 volunteers. 



We made ourselves as comfortable as we could under 

 the circumstances, but the prospect of being pounded 



