There was another day's truce on Christmas Day, but at night rumours of a sortie which Baden-Powell intended to make on Game Tree Fort began to spread amongst the officers. At dawn next morning, December 26th, the sortie was made. Two squadrons of the Protectorate Regiment and one squadron of the Bechuanaland Rifles, accompanied by three guns and an armoured train, advanced upon Game Tree Fort in the twilight and began an attack, which Baden-Powell in his despatch to Cape Town characterizes as being "carried out and pressed home with the greatest gallantry and steadiness under very hot fire." The action began by an artillery duel, in which the British Maxim joined as the daylight increased, and was soon general in the vicinity of the fort, which was situated about a mile and a half from the town. At sunrise the attacking force, under Captains Vernon and FitzClarence, was ready to rush the Boer position. Those watching the fight from a little distance saw the men of the Protectorate and Bechuanaland squadrons moving rapidly upon the fort, and heard a continuous rattle of musketry as they drew to close quarters with the enemy. For a while there was some anxiety amongst the watching staff; then it was seen that the British troops were slowly drawing back, "the fort," said Baden-Powell in his despatch, "being practically impregnable." Then came the news of the repulse and the opinion of the commanding officer that the position was too difficult to attempt a second time. But it was not until the list of casualties was made out that anyone not actually engaged in it knew how gallant and strenuous the attack had been. Out of the attacking force of about one hundred men, only one half came back scatheless. Captains Vernon and Sandford, Lieutenant Paton, and twenty-one rank and file were killed; Captain FitzClarence and twenty-two rank and file were wounded; three troopers were taken prisoners. Most of the casualties occurred in the final attempt to storm the fort, and Captain Vernon, in particular, showed magnificent courage. Wounded more than once during the attack, he kept on fighting until he was shot dead. Little wonder that the Boers were greatly impressed by the courage of the besiegers, and that General Snyman began to feel still more doubtful as to the success of his forces!
On the evening of this day the dead were buried in the cemetery of Mafeking, the enemy out of respect for their brave opponents ceasing fire while the ceremony was in process. The Boers, indeed, on this occasion had showed themselves more humane than usual, and had assisted the British to succour the wounded men of the attacking party when the ambulance went out after the fight was over. Still, it was deemed inadvisable to fire the usual volley over the dead, and so the men who had fallen were laid to rest in comparative silence. The non-commissioned officers and men were interred in a long trench, folded in white calico; the officers were buried in coffins at a little distance. So the day came to an end with the sound of the Last Post. It might have been a more successful day had it not been for treachery, for there was no doubt that the news of the intended British attack on Game Tree Fort had been communicated to the Boers, who had immediately hastened to strengthen their defences and to tear up part of the railway along which the armoured train would proceed, but in spite of the non-success of the attack, the garrison of Mafeking was still confident and in good spirits.
The last days of the old year passed somewhat quietly when compared with the stirring events which had immediately succeeded Christmas Day. In one respect the garrison and the inhabitants were in somewhat better case—every day was making it evident that the Boers would not take the town save by extraordinary means. The spirit of its defenders grew stronger and more indomitable as each sun rose and sank, and every man was determined that there should be no surrender. There can be no doubt that the maintenance of this brave spirit was largely due to the example and cheering words of Baden-Powell, who from his bomb-proof headquarters in the centre of the town dominated and inspired everything. One may well feel a wondering curiosity as to what he felt as he thought and planned and kept a watchful eye on all that was going on. He had never been in such a warm corner as this in his life, but one may be certain that it was not too warm for him. There are men who rise to the greatest heights at the moment of greatest need, and there were needs coming upon Mafeking which were likely to try the heart and resolution of even so brave a man as its watchful commandant.
SITTING TIGHT
Strolling Home in the Morning.
