Those assembled on the Natal border, October 11th, will never forget that day, not only because it was the first day of the war which was to be recorded as one of the greatest in the annals of history, but because it was so bitterly cold and stormy. A strong wind was blowing, heavy and murderous looking clouds were rolling and tumbling about our heads. Snow was falling on the mountains, and while the heavens and the earth were thus warring with each other, the Boers filed across Laing's Nek, to defend their homes and country against aggressive and greedy England. Among the Boers there are no discipline, no drilling, no inspections, no roll calls, every man feeling himself a general with full authority to do as he pleases. So they began the war, so they prosecuted the war, and so they finished the war. The severe cold and apparent confusion and disorder among the Boers, as they cantered off like so many Apache Indians toward Laing's Nek, did not seem to make the slightest impression on the boys of the Irish Brigade. They had something else to think about, and they were doing a lot of thinking. Of all the horses for them, there were not over twenty broken to the saddle, and among the boys themselves, there were not over a half a dozen who had ever tried to ride a horse. Now, one can easily see why the Irish boys were doing so much thinking. They did not wish to be left behind, yet each one felt that there was a great uncertainty as to how friendly the relations between himself and the horse might be.