Affairs within the town were now growing almost as bellicose as affairs without it. Continued friction generates heat, and of this throughout the siege there had been more and more as time went on. It was quite evident that Kimberley was not sufficiently large to afford an arena for the combat of brains _versus_ military discipline, and that the patience of the besieged was nearing the snapping-point. Indeed there was doubt as to whether operations for the relief of Kimberley would be pursued, and it is averred that the Commander-in-Chief sent a message to Mr. Rhodes, saying, "Hope I shall not be compelled to leave you in the lurch." Naturally the Kimberley barometer fell to zero. Then came rumours of the coming of Lord Roberts, but these scarcely served to allay the general impatience. A curious incident occurred on the 29th. Some thirty-five Zulus took their departure. They had been ordered by their chief to leave the town, but when they obeyed they had promptly to return, as they encountered the Boers, who threatened to shoot them. At this time food was becoming more and more scarce; even horse-flesh was distributed with caution. Milk was obtainable only by the invalids, and some four hundred babes died for want of proper nourishment. It was pathetic to see people standing at the Town Hall waiting eagerly to take their turn for the scanty portion of meat that could be provided for them. The ceremony of the drawing of meat rations had an aspect almost comic in its desperate seriousness. Matutinally at 5.30 A.M. might be seen a vast concourse of persons scampering in hot haste to gain a front place. So animated was the early bird to catch its morning worm, that it was up and doing before the regulated hour, 5.30 (fixed by proclamation), before which time people were forbidden to leave their houses. The police put a stop to this superactivity, and hungry persons were seen from five to the half-hour waiting patiently at their gates till the exact moment should arrive when they could make a dash for a place in the tremendous crush which, two by two, gathered outside the market. Marvellous was the rapidity with which this vast crowd, at hint of a shell, would drop to earth. As by some mechanical process there would come a bang, and then, like a card castle, the whole procession would drop flat. The Boers, knowing, most probably, that this was an eventful period of the morning, would invariably start off about six with a boisterous "good-morrow." Gradually the rations grew shorter and shorter and shorter. They now consisted mainly of horse-meat, served out every second day, mealie meal, stamped mealies, with a sparse allowance of tea, coffee, and bread. For those who had children under three years of age one tin of milk was allowed. With this strong children could get along well, but there were many weakly ones, and these waned and waned till the baby funerals became pathetically frequent.