Towards afternoon a heavy rain began to fall.  There was no shelter for us, and we pushed along, wet and cold.  Then night came, and the road, now transformed into a rushing torrent, was only shown us by the lurid lightning flashes that continually rent the heavens.  And we had a sick man on the trolley, for whom this exposure was a serious matter.  But finally we reached a farmhouse, occupied by an old woman.  Her eyes filled with tears when she saw us, and she thanked the Lord that He had spared her to behold once more the defenders of her country.  Near by was an empty building.  We outspanned and off-saddled, turning our animals loose, as we knew they would not stray far in such a blinding storm.  The sick man was hastily carried in and laid upon some dry blankets.

Then we made half a dozen roaring fires with some mealie cobs that we found lying in the house, stripped ourselves, and held our boots and clothing over the fire till they were fairly dry.  By this time the water boiled; we drank some coffee, then made up beds on the floor and slept till morning.  It was a bit of a struggle to get into our damp things when we awoke, but as we rode along our clothes dried and our spirits rose.  Then Potchefstroom came in sight, but, alas! it was held by the enemy.

“What would my poor mother say,” said one young fellow, “if she knew I was so near!”

“Oh, my wife and children!” sighed another.

“Cheer up, boys!” interrupted the commandant.  “Our country first, you know.”

That afternoon we joined a small commando lying near the railway between Potchefstroom and Frederikstad.  It numbered barely a hundred men, but they had with them a bomb-Maxim and a Krupp.  At midnight we got orders to march for the hills near Frederikstad, where we arrived at dawn.  Here we were reinforced by a score of burghers, and we continued our way, keeping in a parallel with the railway, but behind some intervening hills.  Presently a scout came in and reported the enemy in sight.

“Forward!” ordered the commandant, and forward we raced along through the veld, keeping a look-out for holes.  One youngster’s horse went down, the rider turning a beautiful somersault.  Shouts of laughter greeted his exploit, but he quickly remounted, and was one of the first to reach the hill for which we were making, and which dominated the railway.  Keeping the Nordenfeldt in reserve, we opened fire with Krupp and small-arms on the advance guard of the enemy.

We did not know at the time that we were tackling Lord Methuen and five thousand men, but such was the case.  Of course we made a very poor show; what can you expect?  But anyhow, we engaged them for about two hours.  Then their cavalry came on with a rush, and we were compelled to give way.  It was only with the greatest difficulty that we saved the guns, and we only succeeded in doing so, I presume, because the enemy were not aware of our real numbers.  Our waggons fled to one side of the line whilst we