On the 22nd, after eleven days march we reached Burghersdorp, where we could see, long before we came up, the tents of Lieut.-Colonel Eyre's column, which was encamped about half a mile from the town. After pitching the tents, our men were soon scattered far and wide over the plain, gathering dung. The cavalry marched in next morning. Though within ten minutes' walk of the town, no one would have guessed its proximity, as it was built in a gorge between two hills, the bare plain immediately around presenting no more signs of life than the deserts we had just passed through. Built within the last three years, the little town boasts of several large and capital stores, two inns, and a large thatched Dutch church, with pea-green doors and window frames. The stores, in which everything one could think of was to be bought, saddlery, groceries, ironmongery; Gunter's preserves, Dutch cheeses, Crosse and Blackwell's pickles; clocks, roers, ploughs, rifles, crockery, stationery, wines, spirits, Bass's pale ale; fiddles, mirrors, pots, pans, and kettles; ostrich feathers, cases of gin, tobacco, and ten thousand things besides, were filled all day long with a crowd of officers of all arms and corps with leather-patched uniform, mahogany-coloured faces, and long beards, trying on boots, buying preserved meats, and stuffing their pockets with bundles of cheroots, boxes of lucifer matches, and pots of cold cream to anoint their sun-blistered noses. Then there were Dutchmen, in purple trowsers, saluting each other in the politest manner possible, lifting the craped hat with the left hand and shaking the proffered fist with the other, discussing politics and cattle, their vrouws and daughters busy purchasing dresses or household supplies; while Bushmen and Griquas elbowed their way in and out for bottles of Hollands. As the only chance of getting fresh vegetables was to eat them at the inns, they were filled with officers, devouring green food like so many herbivora, making up for the past and laying in for the future. The camp was besieged all day long by visitors; rough Boers, with strings of colts for sale; townspeople on foot; and respectably dressed, well-mounted Dutchmen, with very pretty girls in pink or sky-blue riding habits, who rode up and down the lines, stared unceremoniously into the tents, and when the 'warning,' 'dinner pipes' or 'assembly' were played, flocked round the unfortunate "Piper of the day" with as much astonishment as if he had just dropped from the moon, drawling out the constant exclamation "Allamachtig! Allamachtig!" We were all struck with the great respect shown by the young Dutchmen and boys to their seniors, lifting off their hats whenever addressed by them.