But the London papers published the full account of the surrender on the second day after the capitulation. The manner in which news was sent to the English papers may perhaps be of interest. It must be remembered that there was then no communication with the south. It was impossible to pick up the cut wire north of Norval's Pont. The line from Kimberley to Boshof lies, even as we write, in a cat's cradle on the veldt. There was no option--the telegrams must be sent through Kimberley and by despatch riders. Perhaps it is truer to say that one or two London papers did so, for a certain number relied--and with justice--on the recuperative powers of Captain Faussett and his myrmidons of the wire. To ride a hundred miles across the veldt against time, and against at least two other competing riders, through the enemy's country, and at a moment's notice, is not the least exciting occupation that can be chosen by a light-weight searching for a new sensation. It combines the certainty of hardship and discomfort with the possibility of being shot; and over and above all is the pressing need of saving every minute of time. Three despatch riders set out from Bloemfontein during the evening of Tuesday or the earliest dawn of Wednesday. First in order of starting was the _Times_ messenger, second that of Reuter's Agency, third came the "angelos" of the _Daily Mail_. From Bloemfontein to Kimberley is, as we have said, a distance of a hundred miles. It is best understood by a Londoner by suggesting the comparison that he should be compelled to ride to Hereford every time he wished to despatch a telegram. Out from the isolated city the messengers went, making their way in the darkness or in the dawn over the red slushing tracks that had suffered the steady downpour of the night's rain, till, by whichever road they had moved out of Bloemfontein, they met at the battle-ground of Driefontein. From that point onwards the struggle became keen, and the breakdown of a horse meant a delay that might perhaps be reckoned in days rather than hours. The public that glances casually at the telegrams of their morning papers does not often realise the importance of a few minutes to the correspondents whose work they are reading. In this case, besides the ordinary delay, the lonely riders that were making way across the veldt had to spur them on the risk of finding the Field Telegraph repaired before they could reach the Diamond City, and the cable blocked with messages sent over their heads from Bloemfontein. Early in the great race the _Times_ rider met with disaster. The horse he rode fell, and, though the injury seemed slight enough at the time, never properly recovered itself, causing a delay of some hours before the next relay could be reached.