I told them again then who I was, and said that I was not going to let them burn my waggon. For eighteen months long, ever since Lord Methuen sent me out of Lichtenburg, I had wandered round with my children. If they wanted to burn my things they would have to get an order from a superior officer. I was not going to let them do it themselves. The soldiers kept pressing closer. They had quite surrounded me. I thought, “Who knows how cruel they are going to be?” But here again I remembered that only as far as the Lord would let them could they go and no further, and I did not lose faith. Then suddenly the one with whom I had been talking drew his pocket-book out and wrote an order that the waggon, the tent and the cows which I had kept should not be touched and that no harm should be done on the place. And this was just when, a little way off, in a dwelling-house, they had completely taken and destroyed everything. They had taken away from there all the blankets and more or less everything that the women had had by them. They used to let this be done by the Kaffirs, who took great pride in being able to act in such a manner to white women-folks. And now the officer’s bad temper was quite cured. No one might come near my waggon and tent now. The soldiers were ordered back; a guard was stationed near us so that we might not be annoyed by the passers-by. I was delivered from them the next day. I was longing now to hear what had become of the people who had taken the cattle with them. The report came that evening that they had all been taken. Then we heard the sound of riding, and we wondered if that could be “khakis” again. As we were just a handful of women and children we would far rather it were not more “khakis.” They came riding up. It was Dr van Rennenkampf and Tom Sisk. How happy we were to see some of our own people again! I heard from them then that all those with whom I had let my cattle go had been taken prisoners. There I was now, quite helpless. The people on the farm were very good, but they, too, were equally helpless. We had no living animals that we could use for “trekking.” The doctor had his cart and mules, and therefore I told him he must just stay here with us. I felt as if I could die of sorrow; I had no wish now to stay any longer, but all my cattle were taken and I could not get away. There was nothing here to slaughter; however, I thought to myself that things had always come right somehow or other up to now, and that it would be the same this time also. And there came a brave burgher with sheep for the women and children. Thus did the Lord always provide that we never should be without something to feed us. And the doctor was there to ride for “mealies,” which was a great help to us in those days. The week was not yet over when we heard that the “khakis” were coming back from Vryburg.