28th, Sunday. A quiet day. I rode round the western outposts in the morning and found them considerably augmented in strength. They are now a series of bomb-proof block-houses, a zig-zag approach runs from the refugee laager up to Fort Ayr. So approach is possible without danger (which was not so before). A thousand yards to the front of Fort Ayr the new Boer fort is plainly visible, and flies a flag we have not seen before, blue, white, and orange, with a vertical green stripe. It is possible that there may be some political significance attached to this, possibly that our friends, the Transvaalers, by uniting the two Republics, hope to get the Free State Boers to fight their battles further away from their own territory; but, after all, it is pure surmise, for we get but little news of any sort--and of political news none at all. Due south, and about eight hundred yards away from Fort Ayr, a new fort has been constructed, commanding the bed of the Molopo, and garrisoned by Cape Police. It is about on the position of the old look-out post. In the afternoon I rode round the eastern works. A trench now runs from Ellis’s corner across the river, past the gun emplacement, past Webster’s Kraal, up to and beyond the Nordenfelt position. It is hard to believe with the much stronger position we now have, and the reduced number of Boers, that they will attack again; but, on the other hand, it is harder to believe that they will leave Mafeking without a desperate effort to capture it. In any case, the garrison are confident. On the termination of evening service we sing the National Anthem. I have heard it sung in many places, the most impressive of all at St. Paul’s on Jubilee day; certainly next to that occasion, I think the singing of it in Mafeking appealed to me most. For the men who were singing it on Sunday night would be fighting for it on Monday morning. And now, whilst on the subject, and having just read Mr. Kipling’s poem, I hope the widows and children of the irregular troops serving out here will not be forgotten when it comes to "pay, pay, pay." [Illustration: THE OLD NAVAL GUN AT WORK.]