Bullets began to sing through the trees, and one rider was hit in the shoulder and came down with a crash.

This increased the confusion, for most of them dismounted and tried to lead their horses in the cover.

The infantry coming in from the wings collided with them, and there was a struggle of excited beasts and men in the thickets of thorn and mopani.

And still my Kaffir was trying to get my ankles loose as fast as a plunging horse would let him.

At last I was free, and dropped stiffly to the ground.
I fell prone on my face with cramp, and when I got up I rolled like a drunk man.