But, though they rode fast in retreat, there was no confusion; the Boers know how to trek, and they do it well. Oh! that we had had some horses, good strong horses, to gallop our guns in their direction. But the horses were all either eaten or too weak to trot. Those who looked to Bulwana Hill saw a strange black tripod being erected above the big Boer gun: they were going to take the gun away. The gunners of the _Powerful_ saw the tripod too. They set to work to try and prevent that work from being accomplished; both the 4·7’s were in action, and made the red earth fly near the Boer redoubt. The third shell burst upon the summit of the hill. The many clusters of men who were watching waited breathlessly for the white smoke to clear away, and when it cleared there was no tripod to be seen! Then an exultant shout rose up from hill-side and from spruit; some in their excitement danced and sang and shook hands and laughed. They were weak for want of food, and had not the usual English restraint. Then a great hailstorm came drifting by, and there was a rush into the town to tell the glad news. What a Babel of talk there was at dinner that evening! Why, some officers were so hopeful now that they ventured to predict that by to-morrow some of Buller’s men would be in Ladysmith. The dinner of horse-flesh was progressing merrily when all at once a strange clattering of shoes outside awoke attention. They listened in the mess-room, and heard eager voices, cries of men and boys as they hurried past. One went to the window and shouted: “What’s the row?” “Buller’s troopers are in sight; they have been seen riding across the flats!” What! Then they all jumped up, and the youngest and strongest fared forth with the hurrying crowd towards the nearest river-drift. On reaching this they saw across the river and the flat ground beyond, riding down a little ridge, a column of horsemen trotting towards them. Horsemen at full trot! Then they could not be any of their men, for their horses could not trot to save their lives. The evening sun shone upon their full kit, and no one could doubt that it was the relief column at last! God be thanked! Now they had pulled up, and were welcomed by some officers of Sir George White’s staff. Meanwhile the motley crowd grew, at first too dazed to cheer or shout, but rather moist about the eyes. Malays were there in their red fezes, coolies in many-coloured turbans, and white-clad Indians, dhoolie-bearers, grinning a silent welcome. But the most excited and the noisiest in all that throng were the Kaffir boys and Zulus, the Basutos and Bechuanas. They felt no cold reserve strangle their expressions of delight, but danced and shouted and leapt like madmen, showing gleaming white teeth and sparkling eyes.