At last we seemed about to receive our reward, only to have our hopes dashed rudely to the ground. True, we marched to Johannesburg, and even through it, but only through the most miserable of its slums, seeing nothing of its fine buildings, nothing of the wealth and magnificence we had confidently expected. But, indeed, even the finest part of it was only a sorry spectacle in those days, and for many a weary month afterwards. Skirting the racecourse, we marched on to a spot some six miles from the town, near the house of Johan Meyer, a brother of Lucas Meyer. Colonel Hicks and Captain Fetherstonhaugh called on this gentleman, and got a lot of interesting information from him. His house was one of the finest we saw in the whole Transvaal, and from its site--at the head of a fine valley--commanded a magnificent view of the country almost as far as Heidelberg. But, as some set-off to our disappointment and long, tiring march of fifteen miles, Captain Sir Frederick Frankland, who had gone on to Joh'burg, as it is universally called, to buy what stores he could, turned up just before dinner, not only with a large amount of provisions, but also with a case of excellent champagne, which he presented to the mess, God bless him! We were very proud of our noble Baronet that night, and he had to reply to the toast of his health over and over again. [Illustration: Sergeant Davis, evidently with All we wanted.] Sergeant Davis, champion forager of the Army, also put in an appearance here, having met with no end of adventures and misadventures since the Colonel had sent him back to the Kimberley-Mafeking Railway. As usual, he had a fine lot of stores, and, also as usual, just what we wanted: baccy, chocolate, biscuits, sjamboks, stamps, etc., etc. An uneventful march of fifteen miles, with a halt at Reitfontein, was only noticeable for a particularly cold night and the final splitting up of the Irish Brigade, the Connaughts and Borders being ordered to Pretoria. On the 25th our long march came to an end with a twelve-mile step into Heidelberg. The band of the Derbyshire Regiment played us in, while our old friend, General Bruce Hamilton, rode out to meet us. We halted on a slope about three-quarters of a mile outside the town, which in its essential features is remarkably like Krugersdorp, the streets being lined with tall blue-gum trees, and the plan of course rectangular, with the usual market square in the centre.