We have just heard that Von Loosberg, an ex-lieutenant of the German army, whom we knew at Abraham’s Kraal, and who had since taken service in the artillery, had received seven Maxim bullets at Dewetsdorp, two in the head and five in the body. He recovered! At five o’clock we reach a little stream. Here we are to encamp for three days. From 1,200 to 1,500 are gathered here with Botha, Delarey and Kolby. The tents are set up a little apart. We are very comfortable. At about 8.30 we had finished dinner, and were about to seek a well-earned repose; several of the party were already rolled up in their blankets. Suddenly there was a noise of the tramp of horses and strange murmurs. We went in search of information. All the camp was astir, and the Boers were making off quietly. ’The English! Be off!’ We struck our tents hastily, saddled our horses, and harnessed the mules, without getting any more precise information, and then we joined in the general retreat. The questions we ask call forth answers precisely like those given by young recruits at their first manoeuvres. ’The enemy!’ ’Where?’ ’Over there!’ A sweeping gesture embraces the whole horizon; the indication is all the more vague in that it is ten o’clock, and that the night is very dark. ’Are there many of them?’ ’I don’t know.’ ’Which way are they going?’ ’I don’t know.’ I almost think that if one asked rather sharply, ’Did you see them?’ the man would answer, ’No.’ Nevertheless, the convoy takes an easterly direction, and the men are so disposed as to cover the retreat. We are on a rocky kopje swept by an icy wind. Thinking we were to bivouac again further on, we had packed up our cloaks and rugs on the trolley. Our benumbed fingers can no longer grasp our rifles; we shiver, swear, and sneeze in chorus. It was a horrible experience! After a night that seemed interminable, dawn and sunlight put an end to our torture. During the morning certain information is brought in. The camp has been broken up, 1,500 men have been mobilized, and have spent the night on the _qui vive_. A patrol of thirteen Lancers passed close by. The 29th is a Sunday. The Boers sing hymns. We pitch our tents again about two hours’ distance from our camp of the night before. On the 30th, at eight o’clock, orders are given to transport our laager to the foot of the high kopjes we see four or five miles off in the direction of Taba N’chu. Towards 9.30 the Maxim suddenly opens fire, without our having seen or heard anything to account for it. We gallop off to the kopjes straight in front of us, making for one of the highest, which is called Taba N’berg. But a field-cornet comes after us at a gallop, and sends us more to the left to join General Kolby. It is all the same to us, as we know nothing of what is on hand. We take up a position on a little rocky peak.