the shelling began at daybreak, and lasted with little intermission until nearly dark from Boer guns all round our positions. Bulwaan began by throwing a shrapnel, which burst low over the camp of Natal Carabineers when the men were at morning stables. Four of them were killed, seven wounded, and a private of the Royal Engineers so badly hit that he lingered only a few hours. The same shell killed eleven horses in the Carabineer lines. In the town many people had narrow escapes when Bulwaan's 6-inch Creusot swept round, bringing its fire to bear with destructive effect on several prominent houses. One man lying in bed had a shell pass over him from head to foot within a few inches of his body. It burst on striking the floor, and well-nigh stifled him with dust and sulphurous fumes. When Bulwaan ceased Telegraph Hill began throwing shells even to the Manchester sangars on Caesar's Camp, wounding three or four men, and one private of that regiment was killed by a Pom-Pom shot from the ridge beyond Bester's Farm. On the following day, an hour after dawn, the shelling became hot about headquarters, then, however, changed its direction nearer to Captain Vallentin's house, in which Colonel Rhodes was generally found about breakfast, lunch, and dinner-time as a member of the 7th Brigade mess. Later the Police Station, or some building near it, seemed to have a curious fascination for the gunners of Bulwaan. They dropped shells now in front, then in rear, of the Court-house, but always in the same line, so that, for half an hour or so, Colonel Dartnell and his men had a warm time. One of their tents was hit, but luckily nobody happened to be in it at that moment. On Wednesday the 20th, too, one of the first shells from Bulwaan burst close to the Police Camp after passing through a row of slender trees and along the fence, inside which Colonel Dartnell's orderly was just preparing to shave. He had his looking-glass on a rail of the fence, when between it and himself, a distance of not more than two feet, the shell ripped with a deafening shriek, to bury itself and burst by the root of a tree not three yards off. How this man escaped death is a wonder. The wall behind him was scarred by splinters, the iron fence in front torn and twisted into strange shapes, the rails crushed to matchwood by the force of concussion. Yet there he stood unscathed in the midst of it all. He had not heard the shell coming until its burst stunned, and for nearly a minute afterwards he remained motionless, too dazed to know what had happened.