Companies were sent out in the afternoon to search adjoining hills and kloofs; no Boers however had remained within reach. In the afternoon the explosion of Mauser cartridges which were being destroyed by burning sounded to those who had not been warned like a counter-attack, and caused a momentary sensation. It was thought very probable that the Boers would rally and try to take their revenge, and with the first light of Christmas morning the column stood to arms, and waited. Nothing occurred, however, until soon after sunrise, when guns were heard from the south. Col. du Moulin started off as soon as possible in that direction, and trekked through the long midsummer morning. Very hot and dusty, the column arrived about mid-day at Fauresmith, without, however, having come across anything more aggressive than a swarm of locusts, many miles in length. The guns had been those of Col. Hamilton, who, with Major Driscoll, was co-operating with Col. du Moulin. Col. Hamilton had surprised a commando at dawn that morning, taken fifteen of them and chased the remainder, but in turn got his own baggage cut off at Kok's Kraal by a party of 150 who slipped behind him. A number of his wagons were looted and burned. Fauresmith was a deserted town (three streets of tin-roofed houses and a market place) lying at the foot of a high, boldly-shaped hill: the column camped outside, and soon parties were making their way in to explore. At the entrance to the town was a spring running freely. The water was clear, not muddy; cold, not tepid; it did not smell; there was plenty of it. The explorers filled themselves, and passed on. There was not much to be said for the street. The doors of the houses were open; here and there in front of a house was a bed, or a mattress, half destroyed: for all bedding that could not be used for the Refugee camps had to be burnt. But the gardens at the back were Paradise. What if much of the fruit had not ripened, for want of water? There was still enough and to spare for everyone: apricots, figs, mulberries, small peaches. Men shook the trees or lay along the branches, and blessed their luck. The padré attached to the column (the Rev. ---- Hood) had given out that he would hold a service in the Dutch church, as there was sure to be an organ there. There was: but it had been damaged--so had that in the Anglican church. Then he decided to hold his service in the street; a piano was found, and placed on the verandah of a house; chairs and sofas were borrowed and arranged in the road, and the bell in the market-place was rung. A small congregation collected, the men, of course, all fully armed, and the service was carried out. "Oh, come, all ye faithful," was lustily rendered; and the walls of the empty houses echoed it back.