The contrast at this time between camps British and camps Dutch in the neighbourhood of the border was curious. The Boers were prepared, taking their ease. The British were in suspense. Disaffection was visible on all sides, and yet inaction, irritating inaction, was obligatory. Morning, noon, and night a perennial sand-storm blew; overhead, the sun grilled and scorched. Meals, edibles, and liquids were diluted with 10 per cent. of grit, and when perchance Tommy strove to strain his hardly-earned beer--to make a filter of a butter-cloth--phut! would come a gust of wind and bring the experiment to a melancholy conclusion. Poor Thomas's temper was much tried! He was, of necessity, an exceedingly temperate fellow in those days, but when he got a pot of beer he preferred it to be beer, and not porridge. He did not relish in his mouth the same thing that the wind was distributing impartially into ears and eyes. He said he could take in--at the pores--enough of that to suit his liking. But he was no grumbler, as a rule. He worked hard and incessantly, Colonel Barter determining to keep his men of the Yorkshire Light Infantry quite up to the mark. It was necessary to take every precaution against surprise, and for commanding officers to remain eternally on the _qui vive_. It needed considerable tact to order sufficient work, and only sufficient. It was dangerous to over-fatigue troops who might be required to leap to arms at any moment; it was also risky to allow active men in a hot sun to give way to inertia. There was the never-ceasing routine of guards and picquets, the practice of route marching and field manoeuvres, and the daily round of minor camp duties to keep the warriors hale and hearty, and prepare their thews for a tough tussle. A regular system of scouting was matutinally carried on, and it was thought that the enemy would not be able to encroach beyond his border without enjoying a startling reception. At this time he was not visible, and all that scouts could detect, beside some innocent hares and springbok among the hills, was now and then a flying horseman who disappeared on their approach.