A little farther to the rear was another steep hill, on which the enemy's Creusot guns were now mounted. Several trenches were cut alongside the hillsides, and on the crest were some strong redoubts. It was a most formidable position, but as it seemed to bar all progress farther up the line, it was necessary to carry it at all costs. The mounted infantry had, after the skirmish towards Grobler's Kloof, returned to the camp, as the country was so terribly broken as to be altogether impracticable for mounted men. On Thursday, Captain Brookfield had obtained a pass for himself and three other officers to go to Hlangwane to view the operations, but one of these being unwell, Captain Brook-field invited Chris to take his place. After inspecting the plateau, they made their way down to the left. Hearing that an attack was about to be made on Railway Hill, they clambered down until they reached a point where, seated in an open spot among the trees, they could command a view of what was passing. "It is an awful place," Chris said, "and it seems to me almost impossible to be carried." "It is an awful place," Captain Brookfield agreed. "This is one of the times, Chris, when one feels the advantage of belonging to a mounted corps, for without being less brave than other men, I should regard it as an order to meet certain death were I told to attack that rugged hill. Ah, there are the Irish Brigade!" The storming party consisted of the Inniskillings, with companies of the Dublins, the Connaught Bangers, and the Imperial Light Infantry. From a building called Platelayer's House at the mouth of the spruit, to the foot of the hill, the ground was perfectly open to the point where the left face of Railway Hill rose steeply up, and across this open ground, a distance of half a mile, the assailants had to march. "Here they come!" As, in open order, with their rifles at the trail, the Inniskillings appeared in view, a terrible fire broke out from every ledge of Railway Hill, while the cannon joined in the roar. The guns on Hlangwane, and those on the slopes nearer the river, with Maxims and quick-firing guns, replied on our side. "It is awful," Chris said, speaking to himself rather than to the captain who was standing beside him. "I don't think that even at Badajos, British soldiers were ever sent on a more desperate enterprise. It looks as if nothing could live under that fire even now; what will it be when they get closer?"