The townsfolk soon got used to shell-fire, but they spent most of the day by the river in their cool caves. There was a Dr. Starke, a visitor from Torquay, who used to go about with a fishing-rod, and spend hours by the river--a kindly man, who one day found a cat mewing piteously at a deserted house, and, making friends with it, used to carry it about with him. This gentleman, having the cat in his arms, was standing near the door of the Royal Hotel talking to Mr. McHugh, when a shell came through the roof, passed through two bedrooms, and whizzed out at the front-door, catching the poor doctor just above the knees. His friend escaped without a scratch. Dr. Starke had always tried to avoid the peril of shells, and they used to banter him on his over-anxiety. It is strange how many hits and how many misses are in the nature of a surprise. Late in November a shell entered a room in which a little child was sleeping, and knocked one of the walls of the bedroom clean out. In the cloud of dust and smoke the parents heard the cry of the little babe, rushed in, and found her absolutely untouched, while 20 yards away a splinter of the same shell killed a man of the Natal Police. At the same house later in the evening two friends called to congratulate the mother; they were being shown two pet rabbits, when a splinter of a shell came in and cut in two one of the rabbits. One day a Natal Mounted Rifleman was lying in his tent, stretched himself, yawned, and turned over. At that instant a shell struck the spot where he had just been lying, made a hole in the ground, and burst. The tent was blown away from its ropes, his pillow and clothes were tossed into the air. Poor fellow! his comrades ran towards him, and found him sitting up, pale, but unharmed. They could hardly believe their senses. “Why, man, you ought to have been blown to smithereens!” Another day a trooper of the 18th Hussars was rolled over, horse and all, yet neither of them suffered any severe injury. December came, and by then the poor women were looking harassed and worn: so many grievous sights, so many perils to try and avoid, so many losses to weep over. Some of the correspondents brought out a local paper, the _Ladysmith Lyre_, to enliven the spirits of the dull and timid and sick. The news may be sampled by the following extracts: “_November 14._--General French has twice been seen in Ladysmith disguised as a Kaffir. His force is entrenched behind Bulwen. Hurrah! “_November 20._--H.M.S. _Powerful_ ran aground in attempting to come up Klip River; feared total loss. [Klip River is 2 feet deep in parts.] “_November 21._--We hear on good authority that the gunner of Long Tom is Dreyfus. “_November 26._--Boers broke Sabbath firing on our bathing parties. Believed so infuriated by sight of people washing that they quite forgot it was Sunday.” The _Ladysmith Lyre_ had come out three times before December.