Two of my adjutants—­Pieter Hugo and Landman—­had remained with me.  One of them instantly went to the nearest railway station, about three miles off, to call for an ambulance.  Till 1 A.M.  I lay bleeding in the veldt.  Then the British ambulance arrived.  When the doctor saw me he had very little hope that I would recover.  As I was too weak to be removed by waggon, I was put on a stretcher and carried to a small field hospital, not far from the spot where I was wounded.

How soon I knew that I was no more a free man!  First of all I was stripped of all my belongings, including watch, chain, and money, etc.  At my urgent request the watch and chain and also a certain amount of my money were restored to me.

The following morning an ambulance train took me to Naauwpoort Junction.  On the way I had to part with my blanket.  And one of the nurses actually wanted my ring, saying that I might as well give it to her, as it would be taken from me.  This I refused to part with, remarking that I didn’t believe any one would act so shamefully as to rob me of my ring.  In this I was correct.

Arrived at Naauwpoort, I was carried to the hospital, where I was laid up for three weeks.  A screen was posted before my bed, and at my feet stood a sentinel with fixed bayonet.  I was to be completely isolated from the rest of mankind.  Imagine my feelings at having this functionary at my feet, watching over me and staring in my face day and night.  It was enough to drive me mad.  When I could endure it no longer I entreated one of the sisters to offer my guard a seat, somewhere out of my view, for his penetrating and unbroken gaze was putting too great a strain on my already shattered nerves.  Surely there was no chance whatsoever for me to escape, for I could hardly move myself.  Besides, the hospital was so well fenced in and strongly guarded, that all escape was impossible.  My request was partly granted; but I was forbidden to speak to any one, except to the nurses and the doctor.  Neither was any one allowed to address me.  And so the time dragged on heavily and wearily.  The first few days I suffered intensely, gradually the pain decreased, and I became stronger.

After I had spent three weeks in the hospital I was ordered to Graaff Reinet.  I rose, and dressed with the assistance of the nurses.  To my astonishment six khakis entered my room.  One of these had a pair of handcuffs.  To my query as to what his intentions were he replied:  “You must be handcuffed.”  “Well, and where do you want to put them on?” I asked him, for my wounded arm was still supported by a sling.  “I must put them on somewhere,” he replied bluntly.  So I suggested that I would lie down on the stretcher and have them fastened to my feet.  I was beginning to lose my temper, and expressed myself in somewhat forcible language.  Fortunately an officer then appeared on the scene with whom I remonstrated about the treatment I was being subjected to.  The officer, shrugging his shoulders, said:  “’Tis orders, and they must be executed.”  It seemed such a disgraceful action that I could not help remarking:  “That is why the Boers will not surrender.  If wounded officers, entrusted to your care, are treated thus, what must the private expect?” At last I was allowed to go—­unhandcuffed.