The Devons Met With A Less Fierce Resistance Than
The Others, And Swept Up To The Summit In Time To Head Off Some Of
The Fugitives.
The whole of our infantry were now upon the ridge.
But even so these dour fighters were not beaten. They clung
desperately to the further edges of the plateau, firing from behind
the rocks. There had been a race for the nearest gun between an
officer of the Manchesters and a drummer sergeant of the Gordons.
The officer won, and sprang in triumph on to the piece. Men of all
regiments swarmed round yelling and cheering, when upon their
astonished ears there sounded the 'Cease fire' and then the
'Retire.' It was incredible, and yet it pealed out again,
unmistakable in its urgency. With the instinct of discipline the
men were slowly falling back. And then the truth of it came upon
the minds of some of them. The crafty enemy had learned our bugle
calls. 'Retire be damned! shrieked a little bugler, and blew the
'Advance' with all the breath that the hillside had left him. The
men, who had retired a hundred yards and uncovered the guns,
flooded back over the plateau, and in the Boer camp which lay
beneath it a white flag showed that the game was up. A squadron of
the 5th Lancers and of the 5th Dragoon Guards, under Colonel Gore
of the latter regiment, had prowled round the base of the hill, and
in the fading light they charged through and through the retreating
Boers, killing several, and making from twenty to thirty prisoners.
It was one of the very few occasions in the war where the mounted
Briton overtook the mounted Boer.
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