Lancers, in close attendance. Flanks were heaving and pipes wheezing before the next boulder-strewn ridge had been crossed. ‘A run is nothing without music,’ said a subaltern as he roused his panting steed for another effort. He nearly blundered, as many others did, over the next little fence, and they were being left hopelessly behind. Kenna and Rutherfoord charged the last stone wall side by side, and rose together at it. Rutherfoord landed first, and had the race in hand, but, mistaking the post, eased his horse too soon. So Kenna, V.C., got a neck ahead in the straight run home, and thus won his right to claim the brush or whatever may be a substitute for it in paper-chasing. That was the official verdict, but Lumsden’s Horse still hold that their champion was first past the post. One day a pleasant incident enlivened Colonel Lumsden’s ordinarily uneventful round of inspections. He had been visiting posts south of Irene, and was hurrying back to headquarters on an affair of urgent importance, when a train stopped at one of the sidings. Before he had time to realise that it was a special, or to make any inquiries, the train began to move again. So he jumped on to the nearest platform, and presently found himself in a corridor, cleaner and more carefully looked after than any he had seen on a Transvaal railway up to that time. Not knowing what to make of it, and half-expecting to meet an angry Chief of the Staff face to face, he refrained from exploring further. Presently a lady passed and said, ‘Won’t you come in?’ Colonel Lumsden was smoking at the time, and declined for that reason. ‘But mother wishes you to come,’ was the reply. So the gallant Colonel yielded with ready grace, and found himself in the presence of Lady Roberts, who, with her daughters, was on the way to Pretoria. They were just then nearing Irene, and Colonel Lumsden drew attention to the camp of his Indian Volunteers, in whom he thought Lady Roberts would naturally be much interested. To his surprise he saw a huge bonfire burning, and in silhouette against it were the words, ‘Welcome to Lady Roberts!’ Sergeant-Major Stephens had hit upon this happy idea, and put it into execution just at the right moment. One of the daughters, seeing it, said, ‘Oh, mother, there is a warm welcome for you, at any rate!’ Lady Roberts frequently referred to this impromptu welcome in conversation with Colonel Lumsden afterwards, and spoke appreciatively of the pleasure it had given her. For nearly two months—from the fall of Pretoria on June 5 to July 29—Lumsden’s Horse were scattered up and down the railway lines between Pretoria and Johannesburg. Colonel Lumsden gives the following official account of this period in a letter to the executive committee of his corps: