The sun shone. Women and children went up and down the street. I even saw two white-petticoated girls climbing the rocks of Cove Redoubt to get a peep at "Princess Victoria"--otherwise "Bloody Mary." It was a day of peace, but every one believes it to be the last. To-night an attack is confidently expected. The Boers are concentrating on the north-west. A new gun was seen yesterday moving towards Thornhill's Kopje, and sounds of building with stones were heard there last night. It is thought the attack will be upon the line from Observation Hill to Range Post. Every available man is warned. Even the military prisoners are released and sent on duty again. The pickets are doubled and pushed far out. A code of signals by rocket has been arranged to inform Buller of what is going on. It is felt that this is the enemy's last chance of doing so big a thing as capturing this garrison. But all that is still uncertain, and in the quiet afternoon I harnessed up my cart for a gentle drive with Sergeant-Gunner Boseley, of the 53rd Battery. He is a red Irishman, born at Maidstone, and has done eleven years' service. During the attack on the 6th he was sitting beside his gun waiting for Major Abdy's word to fire in his turn, when a 96lb. shell from "Bulwan" struck him in its flight, and shattered his left arm and leg. He says he was knocked silly, and felt a bit fluttered, but had no pain till they lifted him into the dhoolie. He broke the record, I believe, by surviving a double amputation on the same side, which left him only about 6 in. of thigh and 4 in. of arm. For every movement he is helpless as a log. Four of us hoisted him into the cart, and then we drove round to see his old battery, where the greetings of his mates were brief, emphatic, and devoid of all romance. We then went up to the tin camp, and round the main positions, which he regarded with silent equanimity. I thought he was bored by the familiar scene, but at the end he told me he had enjoyed it immensely, never having seen Ladysmith by daylight before! The man is now in magnificent health, rosy as a rose, and no doubt has a great career before him as a wonder from the war. _February 5, 1900._ The noise of guns boomed all day from the Tugela. It sounded as though a battle was raging along miles of its banks, from Colenso right away west to Potgieter's Drift. I could see big shells bursting again on Taba Nyama and the low nek above the ford. Further to the left they were bursting around Monger's Hill, nearly half-way along the bank to Colenso. From early morning the fire increased in intensity, reaching its height between 3 and 4 p.m. At half-past four the firing suddenly slackened and stopped. That seems like victory, but we can only hope. _February 6, 1900._