And now comes the most painful duty of the chronicler. In writing of the end of the war and the triumph of British arms in the cause of civilisation, it is a grievous necessity to speak of the close of a great and glorious life. Queen Victoria, to the inexpressible grief of her large family and her devoted subjects, passed away at 6.30 P.M. on the 22nd January. On Friday, the 18th, the British public was shocked to hear that their hitherto hale, though venerable, Sovereign was stricken in health. On the following day her condition was found to be grave. On Sunday the Empire lived in suspense. The members of the Royal Family were called together, the German Emperor--as the Queen's grandson, not as a reigning monarch--hurried to these shores. Monday was a day of tribulation, for all knew there was no hope, and the world figurately watched with bated breath around that august bedside where the glorious Queen, a good and gracious lady, was slowly throwing aside the weight of years and sovereignty which she had so nobly borne. On Tuesday the end came, and the Empire was plunged in gloom. Victoria, the greatest queen the world has ever known, the purest ideal of womanhood, strong of brain and gentle of heart, had breathed her last. But she left behind her an undying fame, an influence which will be felt not for one but for many generations--a light to lighten the feet of men and women of the future whether in State or home. * * * * * To return to the Cape. About the middle of the month the situation stood thus. Colonel de Lisle's column, consisting of the 6th Mounted Infantry, the New South Wales Mounted Infantry, the Irish Yeomanry, a section of R Battery Royal Horse Artillery, and a "pom-pom," arrived at Piquetsberg, to assist in routing the guerillas, who, in clusters varying from 120 to 2000 strong, were reported to be marching towards Clanwilliam, Calvinia, Worcester, Piquetsberg, and the Beaufort West district.