Along the whole extent of the Boer front ran an appalling crackling uproar, above which could plainly be heard the terrible pom-pom-pom of the Maxim. The effects of this fire were amazing; the leading ranks fell to the earth in an instant, killed or wounded. The Scots Guards' Maxim detachment was annihilated in half-a-dozen shots by the Maxim 1-pounder; the sergeant in charge was killed, and every man with the gun was placed _hors de combat_. Staggered by the sudden fury and intensity of the fire, which seemed to deliver a continuous sheet of missiles, the soldiers of the Guards and the Ninth Brigade found that they could no longer advance. They scorned the cowardly alternative of retreating, and as the only other course left to them, threw themselves prone on the ground. [Illustration: Plan of the Battle of MODDER RIVER] The same course was followed by the men in every part of the field, simultaneously, as if by instinct. From the wide extent and vehemence of the fire, it was clear that the British were confronted by a great force, and that a desperate action must be fought before the eagerly longed for water could be reached. It was simply impossible to extricate the British army, the battle having once been joined in this manner. No flank attack could be delivered where almost every man was engaged with the enemy directly before him. Lord Methuen found himself for the second time committed to a struggle which he had not planned, and could do little or nothing but trust to his superb soldiers wearing the enemy down. He telegraphed at once to Belmont for the 62nd Field Battery to march with all possible speed to his assistance, and directed two companies of Munster Fusiliers to entrain and advance to the battlefield. This done, he turned to the control of the battle. [Illustration: THE MODDER RIVER. Showing the banks with their lining of bushes, from behind which the Boers opened a murderous fire upon the British at 800 yards.] [Illustration: BOER ARTILLERY AT MODDER RIVER.] [Sidenote: NOV. 28, 1899.] _Sufferings of the Troops._] The two British batteries on the field pushed in upon the centre of the Boer position, and at a range of about 2,000 yards began to deliver a storm of shrapnel upon the village and the Boer trenches. The whereabouts of these had to be guessed, for there was still no sign of the enemy. The battlefield appeared empty of men--the British soldiers prostrate on the ground, the Boers artfully concealed; and few who fought through that long day in our ranks saw even a single opponent. The men fired at what they thought was the enemy's position, fired at the flash of the guns, fired at the quarter from which came the heavy hammering of the big Maxim. That, even so, they shot to some purpose was known when after the battle the shield of the Maxim was found splashed gray with British bullets. [Sidenote: The torture of thirst.]