At eight o'clock the music of battle started, the Naval guns on one side and the batteries of General French on the other. Lyddite and shrapnel bounced and spluttered over all the small kopjes wherein the Dutchmen had made a lodgment. It was sufficient. The Boer guns spat impotently--the puling cry of dismay--then, knowingly, the Federals made preparations for a stampede. They saw in the distance the Sixth Division advancing, the Colonials cleaving the columns of dust, the Highland Brigade coming on and on, their dark kilts cutting a thin line across the atmosphere--they saw enough! To east they flew, speeding towards Bloemfontein--guns, waggons, horsemen--as arrows from the bow, and leaving behind them their well-constructed trenches, their ammunition, tents, and supplies. After them went the Colonials and City Imperial Volunteers, all keen sportsmen, exhilarated with the heat of the chase, but the Boers were uncatchable. No one has yet beaten them in the art of running away. Nevertheless, Lord Roberts was left in undisturbed possession of Poplar Grove. In the early afternoon the Boers certainly endeavoured to make one futile, feeble stand, but their effort was unavailing, and by sunset they were careering into space, while the cavalry vainly endeavoured to hem them in. Horse-flesh had come to the end of its tether; poor food and much galloping had reduced the noble steeds to helpless wrecks, and unfortunately the manoeuvres of Paardeberg could not be repeated. Curiously enough, though no Boers were caught, the military net was full of strange fish, a Russian, a Hollander, a German all being left in the lurch. It was a humorous episode. While the Boers were making off as fast as legs--the mounts of some had been shot--and horses could carry them, a dilapidated country cart, surmounted by a red flag, was seen to be approaching. From this cart presently emerged several forlorn personages, looking very sorry for themselves indeed. They accounted for their plight by saying that while the final fight was taking place their mule-waggon had broken down. The mules having been unloosed, promptly stampeded, and left them between two fires, that of the Boers (to whom they were attached) and the British. The name of one foreigner, in dark blue uniform, was Colonel Prince Gourko, of the Russian army; the other, attired in plain clothes, was Lieutenant Thomson, of the Netherlands (Military Attaché of the Boers). With them was a German servant in attendance on the Russian prince. Finding themselves in an uncomfortable quandary, one from which there was no escape, they decided to join the British. They were introduced to Lord Kitchener, and thereupon presented to the Commander-in-Chief, who received them with his usual courtesy. Lord Roberts, telegraphing home in the afternoon, thus described the day's work:-- "OSFONTEIN, _March 7_ (4.30 P.M.). "March 7.--Our operations to-day promise to be a great success.