the firing ceased and we had at last a breathing space and could hear each other speak in normal voice. But all was not yet over. At 9.30 p.m. an enemy whistle blew sharply—and instantaneously a great burst of enemy fire swept the square from the right flank, and from closer quarters than before. An enemy force had crept in in the darkness and silence, and tried to take us by surprise. But they reckoned wrongly, and in the end, after a fierce encounter, they were driven off and silenced: though movement and groans, from beyond our front, continued long into the night while the enemy collected their dead and wounded. There was now opportunity to review the situation and its vital points: the King’s African Rifles were very short of ammunition, and it was felt that the situation might become serious in the event of a sustained night attack—what ammunition could be spared was handed over to them by our battalion. Casualties, after such extremely heavy fighting, were not excessively heavy, which was undoubtedly due to the lie of the ground, for our position was in a slight dip that could not be detected from the enemy lines. We were out of touch with G.H.Q. and the reserve column, and a patrol was sent out to try to get through to Head-quarters, though we had now no fear of joining up, for we had confidence we could hold on, and had in the fighting worn down the enemy’s will to strike. _Water_ was our greatest need—there was none within our square. [Sidenote: AN ANXIOUS NIGHT] At last our anxieties ceased. Weary, powder-blackened, mud-filthy, thirsty beyond the telling, the line slept fitfully through the remainder of the night. Dawn found everyone standing to, and patrols investigating the bush out in front of the lines. Some patrol fighting took place close in, but the enemy trenches of yesterday were found to be evacuated, and the enemy line now some 700 yards away on our right flank and front. At 9 a.m. General O’Grady arrived in camp, and relief was felt that we were again in communication. Heavy fighting had been experienced at all points yesterday, and casualties of comrade acquaintances, in other units, were learned of with regret. It was decided that we were to hold on here, and arrangements were made to bring water to camp, while bully and biscuit would be our ration—no tea, no cooked food, for no fire could be allowed on account of the smoke, which would have marked our position to enemy artillery. The enemy were shelling the square and shooting dangerously close, but were unable to locate us exactly, or tell where their shells were landing, in the dense bush. To-day all ranks were very exhausted after the past week of blanketless, half-sleepless nights and the extreme strain of yesterday.