Captain Wisden, however, struck what shopmen call a "line" of sardines, in which he invested largely for the Officers' mess, and which proved to be the worst possible kind of fish that had ever been put in a tin. How the wretched animal had existed when it was alive was a marvel, as it consisted, seemingly, of one huge backbone and little else; but no doubt the bad oil, into which it was put when it was tinned, brought about a speedy death and released the poor creature from its sufferings! Captain Wisden will never hear the end of this, and all our officers will in future beware of that particular brand of sardines. Senekal is a small and neat town at the foot of a huge kopje, and was occupied, when we passed through, by the other half battalion of the Bedfords: it is the scene of one of the mishaps to the Yeomanry when Major D'Albiac was killed and a number of others killed, wounded, and taken prisoners; through great negligence they had not searched or occupied the kopje, which frowns over the little town at a distance of a few hundred yards, and from here the Boers suddenly opened fire on the men walking about down below, and shot Major D'Albiac, a well-known man, who had been in the Royal Horse Artillery, as he rushed out of the hotel. The next three days were occupied in moving towards Winburg, two marches of 11 miles each, and the last of fifteen, into the town, which we reached about three o'clock in the afternoon. Each day we had halted for a mid-day rest, but the journey, although through open country, was not a pleasant one owing to the wind and the dust; the camping grounds also were filthy, as they had been used so frequently during the last few months, no water being procurable elsewhere: they were surrounded by dead mules, horses and bullocks: carcases littered each side of the road as well, between one camp and another. So we were pleased to reach Winburg and to camp on the plain beyond the railway station, with the possibility of a few days' rest, and the chance of buying some bread--a commodity we had not seen in any quantity since leaving Pretoria in the middle of June. I foresaw, however, a good deal of work for myself and the ten officers with the Boer laager, as the burghers were to be handed over and despatched by train to Cape Town: they had not been told this or given any hint of their destination, and even now we were careful to say nothing further than that they were going off in the train; but, of course, the more intelligent of them quickly grasped the facts and fully imagined that they were bound for St. Helena: they had not, apparently, heard of Ceylon.