In the above words we have, repeated, the story of suspense and anxiety that was told by one and all who had the misfortune to spend October and November on the Transvaal border, a story of brave Britons, practically unarmed--heroically valorous but impotent--standing almost in the teeth of the enemy and sickening with hope deferred. The Dutchmen came to work much fresher. The warrior-farmer was untrammelled by red tape--unwearied by routine. He was not hampered by minute regulations, though he was bound to look after himself and rely on his own resources. He provided his own provisions, his own waggon and horses, but the Government in the event of his requiring it supplied him with the necessaries of the campaign. He could have luxuries _ad libitum_ sent from home, and while battle was not absolutely going on he had little to do but to eat, drink, and sleep. Drills and field exercises were unknown, though, of course, each had to take his turn at guard duty. In action the operations of the Boer commandoes were presided over by field-cornets, and in camp the work was carried out by corporals, who superintended the supply department--the munitions of "war" and "mouth," as we call them, on which the fighting line depended for ammunition and food. General Wood arrived at De Aar on the 4th of November and took over the command of the troops. His first action was to employ the Engineers and some Cape boys to throw up defensive works and erect sangars on a ridge--some 2000 yards from the camp--which by a sheer accident had not been seized by the Boers. From this point of vantage it was possible for the British guns to command the plain for many miles round. He then put the place under martial law, as Dutchmen and spies were slinking about in the neighbourhood of the railway and the camps. The General's regulations ran thus:--