We were waiting in great suspense to hear the result of the negotiations. At last there came a man with the news that peace had been declared on the 1st of June. It was wonderful. I had been so anxious to hear if it would be peace, and now when the news came I could not be joyful. I knew nothing for certain yet about the terms, and I thought, “That is the reason why I do not feel happier, although it is two years and six months now since we began this dreadful and pitiless struggle from which we have so often longed to be delivered.” The children were very happy. The doctor and our Frenchman still had their horses, and they rode off that same day. Other burghers fired their guns into the air for joy. They did not know what sort of a peace it was, but for the moment they could only rejoice. I did not want to stay any longer where I was, but had still no oxen. A short way off there was a man who had a span of Government oxen. I sent my boy to this man to get them from him so that I should be able to return to my own district. He sent the oxen, and everything was soon ready for the start, although, as I had always had two waggons with me before, it was very difficult to get everything packed into one. Whatever I was not able to load I left behind me. We had been in this place now for more than a month, and the people were sorry to see us going away. But, however hard it might be for me, on I went. The waggon was heavy and the road very sandy, so that very often the children had to get out and walk alongside the waggon. The first place we came to belonged to Widow Lemmer. The poor old woman was very unhappy, for that very week the “khakis” had taken away her cows and everything else that she had remaining. From there I went on again, but heard no talk of peace. I went past the Zoutspannen to the place belonging to G. Stolz. I stopped there that Sunday. In the afternoon it was peaceful, and yet I felt so sorrowful. Saturday night I could not sleep, and that night I said to my daughter Ada, “I cannot think why I feel like this about the peace. If only it is not a surrender of arms, this peace that they talk of! But no,” I said, “it cannot be anything like that, for then it would not be peace.” At ten o’clock next morning my children and I all met together for worship. I felt very much affected. There had been so many Sundays spent in making war, and now to-day it was peace. Therefore I said to my children, “We have been through so many hard and bitter days, and the Almighty Father has brought us safely through our weary pilgrimage. Let us now thank Him with all our hearts.” I felt that it was only God’s goodness that had spared us from falling into the hands of our adversary. That afternoon I went to lie down for a little in my waggon. At four o’clock in the afternoon Liebenberg arrived from Klerksdorp and came to my waggon with the report of peace. And now I had to hear that it was indeed a surrender of our arms.