The brigadier left the brigade-major to settle the column into its quarters, and taking the Intelligence officer with him, made straight for the hub of Hopetown's universe. The hotel and the telegraph-office stood close together. Outside the former a little scarlet flaglet fluttered, its double point showing that the general officer who sported it claimed divisional rank,--a quaint claim at this period of the war, when lieutenant-generals were parading the theatre at the head of little _paarde kommandos_[38] three to four hundred strong. The brigadier spotted the flag, and then edged off to the telegraph-office. "We will first make things straight with K. Then we will consult this new horror with the oriflamme that we have stumbled into!" Three tired clerks, two soldiers and a civilian, were trying to cope with the telegraphic efforts of five columns. The brigadier dictated his message to the Intelligence officer. It was a bare announcement of arrival, duplicated to Pretoria and De Aar. _Telegraph Operator._ "There is no chance of any private wires going through for at least forty-eight hours; post would be quicker!" _Brigadier._ "Then you will just have to clear the line." _T. O._ "Can only do that for general officers." _B._ "That is all I ask you to do,--so here you are!" _T. O._ "Beg pardon, sir; but are you a general,--you are not like most generals. Yes, sir, it's nice and short. I can get this off in about five minutes. They clear the line, of course, at De Aar; we are only working to De Aar. I have quite a lot of messages for you, sir; they have been coming all last night." (The operator handed out the bundle of telegraphic jetsam.)