"I shall start in that character to-morrow morning, Major, so you will have an opportunity of judging for yourself. I have no idea of stopping idle all day while the Kaffirs are at work." "Don't be too rash, you know," the major said. "Remember that a man may do a thing half a dozen times in safety, but at the seventh some accident may occur that will betray him." That afternoon Yorke saw a party of troopers ride in with six Boers; they had been captured in a skirmish. Two of these were men of a better class, with well-made clothes, silk neck-ties, and polished boots; the others were rough fellows, probably, he thought, men employed on some of the farms belonging to the others. He noticed that these had all cut their hair, so that it stood up rough and bristly. "That is good," he said to himself. "I shall be able to do without that wig that the colonel handed to me when I returned to De Aar. I don't say that it might not come in useful if I had to change my disguise quickly, but it would always be dangerous. Hat and wig might both blow off in one of the thunder-storms, or get knocked off in a scuffle. Still, I am afraid I shall look too English without it. Of course there are boys of my age among them. We know that all over sixteen have to go on commando. However, I will first go into the major's tent and slip into my Boer clothes, and put on my wig and blacken my eyebrows, and see if he recognizes me, then I will ask his opinion how I could alter myself a bit if I gave up the wig." He returned to the camp of Rimington's Tigers, as they were generally called--from the fact that they wore a strip of raccoon skin as a band round their slouch hats. When he had put on his disguise, he waited till he heard Major Rimington ride up and call to his orderly to take his horse, then he stepped out. "Hullo! Who the deuce are you?" the major exclaimed, "and how dare you enter my tent when I am away? What are you doing in the camp, sir? Show me your permit." "I did not know anything about a permit," Yorke said in Dutch, disguising his voice as much as possible. "How was it the sentry let you enter the camp?" the major said angrily. "Hi, there!" he called to two of his men a little distance away. "Hi, hand this man over to the guard, and tell the sentry to keep a sharp eye upon him. I expect he is a spy, and by his going into my tent possibly a thief." "You needn't do that, major," Yorke said as he answered him in English with a laugh. "You see I have been able to pass as a Boer, and even you, seeing me come out of your tent, did not recognize me."