Here
and there among the boulders in front of them there was the glimpse
of a slouched hat, or a peep at a flushed bearded face which
drooped over a rifle barrel.
There was a pause, and then with a
fresh impulse the wave of men gathered themselves together and
flung themselves forward. Dark figures sprang up from the rocks in
front. Some held up their rifles in token of surrender. Some ran
with heads sunk between their shoulders, jumping and ducking among
the rocks. The panting breathless climbers were on the edge of the
plateau. There were the two guns which had flashed so brightly,
silenced now, with a litter of dead gunners around them and one
wounded officer standing by a trail. A small body of the Boers
still resisted. Their appearance horrified some of our men. 'They
were dressed in black frock coats and looked like a lot of rather
seedy business men,' said a spectator. 'It seemed like murder to
kill them.' Some surrendered, and some fought to the death where
they stood. Their leader Koch, an old gentleman with a white beard,
lay amidst the rocks, wounded in three places. He was treated with
all courtesy and attention, but died in Ladysmith Hospital some
days afterwards.
In the meanwhile the Devonshire Regiment had waited until the
attack had developed and had then charged the hill upon the flank,
while the artillery moved up until it was within 2000 yards of the
enemy's position.
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