Splendid actions followed one another with amazing persistence, man after man and officer after officer attempting deeds of daring, each of which in themselves would form the foundation of an heroic tale. Lieutenant Maxwell of Roberts's Horse, from the very teeth of the enemy dragged off a wounded man--a lad who, by the time he was rescued, had fainted. But the young subaltern promptly got him in the saddle, and the pair sped forth from the fiery zone alive. The Duke of Teck also rushed to the succour of Lieutenant Meade, who was wounded (a bullet cutting off his finger and piercing his thigh), gave up to him his horse and removed him from the scene of danger. At the same time Colonel Pilcher was gallantly rescuing Corporal Packer of the 1st Life Guards. Major Booth (Northumberland Fusiliers) lost his life through doggedly holding a position with four others, in order to cover the retreat. When the Queenslanders arrived they too showed the stuff they were made of, the best British thews combined with the doughtiest British hearts. They plunged into action--so dashingly indeed that the Boers very nearly mopped them up. But Colonel Henry was equal even to the skittish foe, and contrived to entertain the Dutchmen by leading them so active a dance that eventually the Colonials were able to fight out their own salvation. At last the guns got away and followed the line of retreat taken by the cavalry. The troops then conducted their retirement by alternate companies, each company taking up its duties without fluster, and covering the other company's retirement with great steadiness until they reached Bushman's Kop. The marvellous coolness of the force was particularly amazing, as every man, with the Boers still at his heels, believed himself to be cut off, yet in spite of this belief showed no signs of concern. In one regiment, consisting of 11 officers and 200 men, two officers were killed, four wounded, and sixty-six men killed and wounded. Strange scenes took place during those awful hours in the donga, and wonderful escapes were made. One trooper was seized on by a Boer. "Surrender," cried the Dutchman, but before another word could be uttered, the trooper's sabre whistled from its sheath and the Boer was dead. Another who was wounded got off, as he said, "by the skin of his teeth." He had become jammed under a waggon in company with a Boer--who had crept there for cover--and the hindquarters of a dying mule. Over the cart poured a rattling rain of bullets, to which he longed to respond. The Boer, believing the wounded man to be his prisoner, made himself known. "Hot work this," he said. The next instant the Boer was caught by the throat and knocked insensible, while the Briton promptly extricated himself and vanished from the seething, fighting mass. Another of the Household Cavalry, when summoned to surrender his rifle, threw it with such force at the head of his would-be captor that he was able to make good his escape.