It was about this time, too, that six of those artillery boys were killed and several wounded. This so weakened the artillery force at Long Tom that he could not be supplied with shells, and so had to stop fighting. Shells continued to rain upon us, and the English undoubtedly thought that Long Tom was disabled, as he had ceased to respond. As no Boers could be found who would carry ammunition to Long Tom during such a shell storm, Commandant Grobler came to me about seven o'clock and asked for four volunteers from the Irish Brigade, to serve Long Tom, and I called upon the boys. In an instant every one clamored to go, and I sent seven instead of four, as being necessary. In another three minutes Long Tom roared again and it was plainly to be seen by the commotion it raised in the valley, that the English were utterly amazed. Of the seven men who volunteered and served Long Tom, two were shot. Now Long Tom and the two French field guns made it so very uncomfortable for the English that the number of shells that had been raining upon us for the past hour and a half was reduced at least fifty per cent. [Illustration: MAJOR J.L. PRETORIUS The acknowledged greatest artillerist of the world by those who know him and his deeds.] Between seven and eight o'clock the commandos under Lucas Meyer and Schalk Burger came into contact with French's cavalry on the extreme English right. We could plainly see warm rifle firing, and soon it grew to be terribly hot, and then we knew that the English would be so hard pushed that they would have to abandon any hope of breaking through our centre and capturing Long Tom and the French field guns. After a time that brave, keen-eyed artillerist and dashing officer, Captain J.L. Pretorius appeared on the scene with his pom-pom maxims, and so deadly was his fire that French's cavalry had to fall back. Major Wolmorans brought his French guns into play on the English right also, and this forced some of the English guns to drop Pepworth Hill, and try their luck with Wolmorans. Wolmorans was too much for them, and we could see that the whole English line was beginning to tremble, yet the battle continued to rage and the bullets and shells were flying to and fro so thick and fast that it would seem impossible for any one to come out alive. It was about this time, eight o'clock, that a shell caught me, smashed both the bones of my arm near the elbow, cut the tendon, nerve and artery and completely paralysed my whole arm. I went to my horse, about 300 yards away, and was fortunate to find him alive, because most of them near him had been killed. A young Boer boy helped me to mount and I managed to reach a hospital tent about a mile away, but it was a close call, for I had grown very weak from loss of so much blood. As I passed my camp, I could not help smiling, for it was completely destroyed, and I knew that when the Irish boys saw it again, there would be plenty of Irish wit in the air.