We dragged up the Gardner gun, placed it in position, and built a breastwork of loose stones. By the time we had finished, it was about 4 o'clock. Beyond and beneath us, a line of green and white flags was strung across the valley, fluttering above the scrub, and these, with a large tent, denoted the headquarters of the enemy. The rest of the Column were hurriedly building a zeriba in the valley. As the twilight fell, a party of the enemy crept to the summit of the hill on the right flank, opposite to our fort, and dropped bullets at long range into the Column below, which replied with a couple of screw guns. As the darkness thickened, there arose that maddening noise of tom-toms, whose hollow and menacing beat, endlessly and pitilessly repeated, haunts those who have heard it to the last day of their lives. Swelling and falling, it sounds now hard at hand, and again far away. That night, we lay behind the breastwork, sleepless and very cold; and the deadly throbbing of the drums filled the air, mingled with the murmur of many voices and the rustle as of many feet, and punctuated with the sullen crack of rifles, now firing singly, now in a volley, and the whine of bullets. At intervals, thinking the enemy were upon us, we stood to arms. When at last the day broke, there were thousands of white-robed figures clustering nearer upon the hills, and the bullets thickened, so that, chilled as we were, rather than attempt to warm ourselves by exercise we were fain to lie behind the breastwork. The Naval Brigade had no casualties. Our detachment was speedily called in, so that we had no time for breakfast, which was being hastily eaten under fire by the rest of the Column. All we had was a biscuit and a drink of water. We took up our position on the right front. Sir Herbert Stewart waited for a time in case the {259} enemy should attack. Major Gough, commanding the Mounted Infantry, was knocked senseless by a bullet graze; Major Dickson of the Royals was shot through the knee; Lieutenant Lyall of the Royal Artillery was hit in the back. Sir Herbert Stewart and Colonel Burnaby were riding about on high ground, a mark for the enemy. I saw the general's bugler drop close beside him, and running up, implored both him and Burnaby to dismount, but they would not. I had hardly returned to my place when I heard another bullet strike, and saw Burnaby's horse fall, throwing its rider. I went to help Burnaby to his feet, and as I picked him up, he said a curious thing. He said, "I'm not in luck to-day, Charlie." When it became evident that the enemy would not attack, Sir Herbert Stewart decided to take the initiative. He ordered a square to be formed outside the zeriba, in which the baggage and the camels were to be left in charge of a small garrison.