Routine and red tape, though probably not so bad as "once upon a time," are still rampant, and we Yeomanry get our full share of them, the Colonials being more exempt. When we are on the march it is always "dress up there" or back as the case may be, and the following extract from a comrade's diary can be regarded as absolutely veracious. "August 6th. On advance party again. Tried to look for Boers and lost my 'dressing.' Severely reprimanded." It appears to me that our way for locating the enemy is absurdly simple. We advance in approved extended order, so many horses' lengths, not more nor less, if any Boers are about, and we get too close to them, they pot at us. Then we take cover, if not bowled over; and it is generally known that there are Boers about. This (Sunday) morning, I am writing a few lines during a halt--we passed various farms on our way, which is in the direction of Krugersdorp. We are in hopes of rounding up De Wet (don't laugh!) At one of these farms, as we passed, a regular old Rip Van Winkle Dopper Boer was seated by his door scowling at us, and a trooper who had evidently been sent to ask for arms presently received, and rode away with _a sword_. It was really most amusing, probably the dear old man had three Mausers under his floor boards, and perhaps a bathchair was to be found somewhere on the premises, in which he could be conveyed to the top of a kopje now and again, to enjoy the pleasure of sniping the _verdommte Rooineks_, or their convoy as it passed along. Monday, August 13th. On this day we made a reconnaissance in force, but had no fighting. In the evening we had to do an outlying picket on a near kopje, some long range and ineffective sniping going on as we took up our position at sunset. The waggon having been left behind (no unusual occurrence), we went tea-less to our night duty. Tuesday, August 14th. Off, without any coffee, on advance guard. As we moved out of camp, revolvers and rifles were banging in all directions. However, it was not sniping, but merely the usual killing of sick horses and mules. Along the road the defunct quadrupeds hummed dreadfully (if any tune, "The place where the old horse died"). RELIEF OF ELAND'S RIVER GARRISON. JOIN IN THE GREAT DE WET HUNT.