We had brought with us two naval guns, one 3·5-inch and one 4-inch, on travelling carriages, and at once got them into action. From our dominating position they bombarded, apparently with good effect, the enemy’s camps south of Kondoa. The tents were at once struck. We could see the enemy hard at work entrenching his positions, and his vehicles hurrying away towards Kondoa. Several patrol encounters went in our favour, and small hostile posts, that had been left out in various places, were quickly driven in. From the south—that is, from behind us—we saw a mounted patrol riding towards our positions. As our mounted patrols were also out, I thought at first that they were Germans. But soon the regular carriage of their carbines in the buckets proved that they were English. They evidently had no idea of our presence. They were allowed to approach quite close, and at the short range they lost about half their number. From what we had hitherto observed, it seemed probable that the enemy in our front was evacuating his positions. On the 9th May, 1916, I decided, if this expectation proved correct, immediately to take possession of the low hills now held by the enemy. The conditions did not favour an attack, as our advance was sure to be observed, and a surprise assault was out of the question. But without surprise the attempt to capture the occupied position by assault had no hope of success; the enemy was sufficiently entrenched on the small hills, and the latter completely commanded the ground over which the attack would have to be pushed home, and which could only be traversed slowly owing to the low thorn-bush and the numerous rocks.