For seven and a half hours England toiled in the sun. They sweated, gritted their teeth, gave everything and more as Nasser Hussain tried more tricks than a circus dog.

Andy Caddick remained a hero yesterday, strutting in on stork legs and probing away relentlessly until spent. At the other end, Darren Gough puffed his chest out, hurled himself into the fray, got rebuffed and still came back for more.

Phil Tufnell twirled and teased, Chris Silverwood sent down some fast balls in a whirl of arms and legs, Andy Flintoff used his bullish frame and hit Hansie Cronje on the head with a ragged old ball and even Chris Adams had a couple of overs just to see what happened.

They kept their discipline and fielded like men possessed. Towards the day's end, after 102 overs in the field, Silverwood sprinted round the boundary and dived full length into the boards to try to save a boundary. It was inspirational stuff on a long, long day from a committed side that now believes in itself.

If effort was rewarded with diamonds, then the England bowlers could retire today to their offshore accounts and private Caribbean islands. Instead, until the last half an hour when Flintoff, the man with the golden arm, nipped out Daryll Cullinan and, brutally, the hapless South African captain, they had been rewarded with just two wickets: that of Herschelle Gibbs, early in the day while the first ball was still newish, and then Jacques Kallis for 69 later, much later, when the gold lettering on the second new ball still glistened.

And for eight hours in all they have had Gary Kirsten. There is not much they do not know about this fellow. They saw far too much of him at Old Trafford 18 months ago when he set out his stall to bat England out of the game and, over the course of 10 hours and 50 minutes, managed it with a double hundred.

This series he had been a disaster, so much so that there had been talk of him losing his place. Here at Kingsmead, on a pitch that is a flat dullard unless the sun is shielded by thick, tropical cloud and the humidity sits heavy so that even the ground perspires, Kirsten cocked a snook at such suggestions with an unbeaten 126 - the 10th hundred of his Test career, the most by any South African - and a second-wicket stand of 152 with Kallis.

This was not an innings of beauty, but then neither had Hussain's vigil on the first two days set the juices racing, so we must not denigrate him for that. It might yet have saved the bacon for his side when they had been staring defeat in the face. By the close South Africa had progressed from 27 without loss overnight in their second innings to 251 for four, an overall lead of 41 with the final day to play.

Indeed, if Allan Donald and Shaun Pollock wake up this morning and sniff the humidity coming in the afternoon, then another hundred runs could be awkward still for England: in that regard the South Africans' best chance of winning is to be bowled out. England, and then the draw, remain favourites but it is not copper-bottomed.

England had remained wicketless from the moment Caddick induced Gibbs to pop a catch to short-leg nine overs into the day until four overs after Gough and Caddick had taken the second new ball.

Out here unless you are Wasim or Waqar with a mastery of the intricacies of reverse swing, the new ball is paramount, a ruby that should be borne to the middle on a velvet cushion and handled with kid gloves. While it is hard and shiny and red, there is always hope. After 20 overs, during which time Kallis had nibbled at Gough and given a low catch to Alec Stewart, it had the consistency of a pair of Hush Puppies. Flintoff's two wickets were a triumph for brute strength, courage and unflagging optimism.

Kirsten had his good fortune for he began his innings by playing with all the co-ordination of Bambi learning to walk, flirting with the siren gullies outside off-stump, but he did not fall. Once, shortly before lunch, when he had made 33, Tufnell trapped him back in his crease and roared his appeal confidently. It would have been a cert had not the bowler overstepped the crease. Tufnell sank to the turf and put his head in his hands.

Thereafter Kirsten punched out his left-hander's drives and cuts, worked tirelessly off his legs and gave not a semblance of a further chance. You do not give two cracks to international batsmen in such conditions and expect mercy.