At the _Tronk_, which we visited with the Civil Commissioner, we saw about twenty or thirty Kaffir prisoners. It was Sunday, and they were all assembled in a large room, heavily chained, dressed merely in a blanket, and listening, with becoming attention, to a Fingoe preaching in their own language the full, flowing, and sonorous tones of which, with the singular clicks occurring in every other word, sounded both melodious and striking. A Kaffir boy was handed over to us as a prisoner, to be taken down to General Somerset, for sentence. He had been taken a few days before, by a Commando, which had fallen in with, and attacked a band of marauders, of which he was the only one who escaped. Though not more than sixteen years of age, he carried a gun and a bundle of assegais. He had been spared by the Commandant, at the request of his _after-rider_, who begged the boy's life from the hard-hearted Boer, as a reward for his own long and faithful services. He was a handsome quiet lad, and when reassured, through the kindness of our men, who gave him a pipe and tobacco, with plenty of food and a seat at the fire, he seemed quite happy. His name was _Uyanina_, and he told us, through our interpreter, that his father and two brothers had been killed in the Amatolas; and, in a quiet tone, said that he hoped we would not kill him, as he wanted to go back to his mother. He was told that his life was safe, but that as he could bear arms, we could not let him loose again until after the war; with which assurance he appeared perfectly satisfied, and lay contentedly smoking the strongest tobacco all day long. In due time the cattle arrived, driven by a party of strange, ragged, wild-looking Gonahs, and one thousand sheep and seven hundred oxen were bleating and bellowing around us. The Contractor (having provided himself with a few rounds of dry sheep's dung, as markers) counted them over to our commissariat agent, depositing one of the pellets in his right hand as each hundredth ox rushed through the two trees between which they were all driven singly. As we returned the cattle suffered severely from want of pasturage; not a blade of grass was to be seen, and our horses, which had nothing to eat but the leaves of trees and shrubs during the day, when tied up at night devoured sticks, wood, dry dung, or anything chewable. On the plain we had the good fortune to fall in with several herd of springbok; their beautiful appearance and graceful agility delighted us, as they leaped into the air, clearing twenty feet at a bound. A party of Dutch Boers _jagging_ them and firing above, drove a herd in our direction, giving us some splendid shots. I kept the head of one, and amused myself in the evening by the camp fire, at Klip-Fontein, by preparing it as a specimen. The tongue, liver, and heart, made an excellent fry, though the flesh is generally dry and tasteless, and requires all the cook's art to render it at all equal to tolerable venison.