But it had obvious disadvantages when held against a besieging force. With trenches and redoubts the encircling hills could be held, but beyond these there was a second outer circle, from which a fierce bombardment could be kept up by the Boers. Guy and Jack drove round the defences, and noticed that the chief position was to the south of the camp, at Wagon Hill and Caesar’s Camp, and it was near the latter that Jack’s field hospital lay.
Outside, the Boers had mounted big Creuzot guns on several hills, and from these, ever since the camp was surrounded on October 30th, they had kept up a more or less severe bombardment, throwing immense numbers of shells into the town. But the results were not very creditable. Football and cricket matches were played in full view of the gunners, while the officers played polo. Occasionally a shell would plump in their midst and send them all flying, but very little damage was done.
As Guy and Jack drove across towards the northern part a huge shell pitched just in front of their horses, and, burying itself deep in the ground, exploded, throwing dirt all over them.
“Shall we go on, Jack?” asked Guy. “Those Boer fellows have spotted us, I expect. Perhaps you don’t feel quite up to it just now that you are weak after your wound.”
“Humbug!” was Jack’s answer. “Get ahead, Guy; it’s only a chance shot that will hit us.”
“Ah, I thought you’d say that!” Guy continued; “and the majority of fellows who have been hurt say that had they been out in the open they could have easily run away. But a few shells have burst in houses and tents, and some people have been killed. Of course the Boers have pounded the town, and have even sent a few shots through the big hospital. At any rate it has been hot work in there, and now all non-combatants and the women and children live over on the neutral ground at Intombi Spruit. The troops have nicknamed their camp Funkemburg.”
At this moment someone called out to Guy to pull up, and Rawlings, the officer who had conducted the sortie which had helped Jack and his friends back into Ladysmith, came up to the cart.
“Hallo, Jack Somerton!” he cried heartily, shaking him by the hand. “When are you going to turn out of that hospital and join Guy in our mess. He tells us you have lots of yarns to give, and he says something about a girl near Kimberley. When are you coming, old boy? We’d like awfully to hear all about that little affair.”
“Well, I hope to be out in a few days now,” Jack replied with a laugh. “But shut up about that Kimberley business! Guy, what have you been telling these fellows?”
There was a loud laugh at Jack’s expense, and then Rawlings climbed into the cart and accompanied the two young fellows on their drive.