A shower of bullets swept past, singing in our ears with spiteful distinctness. Looking round I saw, barely fifty yards away, two-score Boers kneeling and firing away for all they were worth. A second look was unnecessary, and we ran like deer, the bullets whizzing by thick as hail. It was amazing that none of us was hit. Bullets seemed to me to be pouring between my legs and under my feet. A little rising gave us momentary protection, but the Boers came on again until within fifty yards, and poured a hot fire into us. Two hundred yards away we could see our horses and near them the rest of the section, which had got earlier notice of the repulse of our troops, galloping away. Each man got to his horse, but they shouted to me that mine had been killed by a shell. It was not a pleasant predicament, but before I had time to realise that the Boers must either shoot or capture me, Bugler Mackenzie galloped up and offered me a lift behind him. I was dead beat with running and quite unequal to violent effort. I put my foot in the stirrup he released, and tried to climb up. But my bandolier, haversack, and water-bottle all bunched in front and caught the blanket tied on at the pommel of the high military saddle. Back I flopped on to the ground. Another effort, and I nearly pulled Mackenzie, who was a light boy, out of the saddle. The firing all the time was very hot, and, fearing to bring disaster on all of us, I ordered Mackenzie off. But he would not budge until Saunders and Parkes between them helped me up behind the first-named. What a relief it was to feel the ground slipping past and to know we were getting out of such a desperate scrape! The Boer fire had slackened for a little, but the reason was that they had mounted and galloped up to within close range. Again they opened, and once more the ground all around was dusted up and the air alive with singing bullets. It was too much to hope for escape a second time, and sure enough, before we had gone a hundred yards, the gallant gee with his double load fell heavily to earth, a bullet having struck him. Being perched high up, I reached the ground first with a thud I hope never to experience again. Saunders then fell on top of me, and the horse crashed heavily across both of us, kicking me on the shoulder as he rolled over. [Illustration: E.B. PARKES]