and advanced to the attack through the bush.  Meantime, the South African Police extreme left had swept round to the head of the spruit on both sides of which the donga was formed, the South African Mounted Riflemen and more South African Police closed in, the Defence Force unit getting in rear and in flank of the rebels to cut them off.  The attacking party had to work their way through open veld before they could charge the enemy; they made a mark as good as standing game.  It was two and a half hours before the “Cease-fire” whistle sounded.

[Illustration:  General Botha’s train leaves the Orange Free State after the crushing of the Rebellion]

[Illustration:  Exhausted Troops after defeating De Wet in the Orange Free State]

It fell to me to be a horse-holder (one man in each section is, of course, a horse-holder when mounted infantry are in action) in this fight.  In nightmare I have passed that evening since—­and wakened quickly, too.  The worst of rifle fire is that you can hear bullets whizzing and spitting in trees, but it takes an experienced hand to divine direction.  It was only afterwards I found out that a party of rebels were firing on our horses in rear.  The horses knew it, though, and shewed it in their eyes.  The sun came watery through the clouds just before sunset; I remember during the lulls in the wicked coughs of rifle fire hearing doves cooing gently in the sun-pierced trees.

[Illustration:  Leaving Pretoria.  General Botha’s Bodyguard departing] [Illustration:  Kits aboard.  The Troops departing for the Front] [Illustration:  Camp of the Bodyguard at Groote Schuur]

When darkness fell we had captured Fourie, his brother and all his following, except nine men who made their escape at the beginning of the fight.  The loyalist casualties in this action were twelve killed and twenty-four wounded.  I saw a man who had shared a last cigarette with me as we rode into the action that afternoon lying dead on a blanket three hours later.  In that instant I learnt something of the true meaning of war.

There are hundreds of brave deeds that must go unrecognised in these days.  But from what I know of this particular action there was an amount of gallantry and quiet heroism displayed amongst the fellows that deserved more than casual comment.  I could speak of things I saw, and would like to, moreover.  But as for my pains a punched head from outraged modesty would be the reward I shall say no more.

A few days later Fourie was tried by court-martial, convicted, and shot at dawn.  In the last days of December the few remaining rebels at large either surrendered or were captured.  As the last days of the Old Year slipped by, rebellion within the Union of South Africa died out, and General Botha spent the holidays in peace on his farm at Rusthof—­in the haven where he fain would be.

PART II

THE CAMPAIGN OF SOUTH-WEST AFRICA