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Those six guns began throwing time-shrapnel with beautiful precision just where Boers were thickest. Not a shell seemed to be misplaced, so far as one could judge, and successive bursts and showers of shrapnel seemed to wither the immense thickets near Intombi's crest.
At a strange and unorganised public meeting on the steps of the Ionic Public Hall, now a hospital, the people indignantly rejected the terms. Leave our women and children at Intombi's Spruit the bushy spot fixed upon, five miles away with Boers creeping round them, perhaps using them as a screen for attack! Britons never, never will!
"They won't hang him, but perhaps they'll make him a Lord," I answered, and watched the women trying to keep the children decent while their husbands worked the pick. In the afternoon the trains went out, bearing the wounded to their new camp across the plain at Intombi's Spruit. The move was not well organised.
That was the end of the fight, and though some enemies still clung to Intombi's crest waiting for darkness, their fire soon slackened, and the hard-fought battle ended in a complete defeat of the enemy at all points.
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