16th. Very little shelling. The Cape Boys in the advance trenches were playing a concertina, and so chaffed the Boers, saying they were dancing, and asking them to send some ladies, &c., that one of them, either attracted by the music or bursting with repartee, popped up his head, and was incontinently shot by a wily Cape Boy, to the intense delight of the others. They have a distinct sense of humour, though possibly a somewhat grim one. The advance trenches are now deepened and strengthened, and are as safe as it is possible for them to be to walk about in; from the advance trenches the Boers and ourselves throw bombs, and they are also using explosive bullets; their bombs are made like old hand-grenades, the bombs of both sides being charged with dynamite. They throw theirs by hand, but ours, though of a cruder form (being mainly jam tins) are propelled in a much more scientific manner. Sergeant Page, of the Protectorate Regiment, has rigged up a bamboo as a fishing-rod, and casts his bomb with great precision the short distance to the Boer trenches. 17th. Pretty quiet day. Last night McKenzie’s boys raided Jackal Tree fort, killed one Boer and a Kaffir, and secured three horses and rifles. The dug-outs are all so close to various residences that it was amusing to see one card party, disturbed by the ringing of the bell, dive from the mess to the dug-out, and actually be back picking up their cards before the shell which had passed high in the air, had exploded. Vices in time of peace become virtues in war time; the most expert Baralong cattle thief, who under other circumstances would assuredly be in durance vile, is now indeed a _persona grata_ and leader of men, and whilst enjoying himself at the top of his bent is making the most of his fleeting opportunity.