It was then past ten o'clock; the crescent moon was "sloping slowly towards the west" behind a bank of dark clouds, and in another hour the faint light would have gone, giving place to a gloom that makes rocks, trees, rough knolls, and deep dongas one shapeless black. General Hunter's instructions were brief and simple, silence being the point most strongly insisted on. For the rest, Imperial Light Horse and Carbineers, to whom he entrusted the attack, were to follow their guides and keep line if possible. These two corps contributed about one hundred men each. The Border Mounted Rifles, Natal Volunteers, and a small field force of Colonel Dartnell's Border Police, making altogether about four hundred, were to be in reserve, the Border Mounted furnishing supports and pushing them up the hill as each step in the ascent was gained. The fourteen guides, with Major Henderson of the Intelligence branch as staff officer, went ahead, and then the column moved off silently, the order being passed from section to section in whispers. The Boers, five miles off, would not have heard if a full band had played the adventurous six hundred out; but we know that there are Boer emissaries still in camp who might, by preconcerted signal, have given the alarm if the unusual movement had aroused them and their suspicions. It was well, therefore, to let such sleeping dogs lie. So the column marched in silence along town roads, where nearly every house is deserted, and deep dust muffled the tread of many feet until they were clear of the town, and passing our outposts on Helpmakaar Hill. The forms of massed men could be made out dimly where the Devon battalion rested under arms, ready to give assistance in case of any reverse.