On one of the usual patrols into that town Captain Rutherfoord passed a German ambulance proceeding south, who explained that they had been allowed to do so, but carried no pass. Arriving at Pretoria, he reported the fact to the authorities, and also that he had stopped the ambulance until he could get orders concerning it. On inquiry, having ascertained that nothing was known about it, he obtained a letter to the Commandant at Irene, who was told to ascertain that the ambulance people were carrying no papers for the use of the enemy, and, if satisfied, to allow them to proceed. The Commandant, being a man of high ideals, did not see his way to thoroughly searching the ambulance, which contained four German nurses, in addition to the four doctors, and he therefore allowed them to pass on having taken the senior doctor’s word of honour that they had with them nothing of any use to the enemy in the way of papers. The ambulance then went on its way, but stopped the night at Kalfontein, ten miles beyond Irene. In the evening a wire came to us for an officer’s patrol to bring all those people back to Pretoria. Captain Rutherfoord was accordingly sent to Kalfontein for the purpose, and returned in the evening with the party. Colonel Lumsden and all of us felt so sorry for the prisoners that we decided to ask them to dinner, which invitation being accepted, in due course we all sat down together in our little mess-house. During our stay at Irene, as it was bitterly cold, we had run up a small hut: walls of piled-up stones, a tin roof, and a most cunningly contrived fireplace which did not smoke. We decorated the place with flowers, had a tip-top dinner, and drank _crème de menthe_ as our only beverage. The dinner went off in the wonderful way dinners do. None of us could talk German, and none of them English, and yet we conversed freely and had the greatest fun. The show concluded with songs, and the last remembrance I have of it was that the Colonel and the prettiest ‘sister’ were taking down one another’s addresses and betting gloves about something in the quietest corner. Rutherfoord had been hiding as much as possible, as he felt himself to blame for being the cause of all their trouble, but we gave him away at the end, and though they all pretended to be very angry with him, we unanimously allowed that he had beaten all but the Colonel in winning the favours of the fair sex.