Another volley, and a third, in rapid succession, and the burghers pressed more closely to the ground.

An interval of a minute, and they glanced over their tiny stockades to find a British soldier.

"They are coming up the kopje!" shouted a burgher, and their rifles swept the hillside with bullets.

More volleys came from below and, while the leaden tongues sang above and around them, the burghers turned and lay on their backs to refill the magazines of their rifles.
Another interval, and the attack was renewed.

"They are running!" screamed a youth exultingly, and burghers rose and fired at the men in brown at the foot of the kopje.