They represented the mounted police, or border tax-collectors. Well mounted and armed to the teeth, they rode in and delayed the start for a couple of hours, while they examined every packet most thoroughly. They were particularly rude and insolent to the three young Uitlanders, tumbling their packages about roughly, and scattering the contents over the ground in a reckless and wanton manner, as if desirous of destroying what they could not seize. All the ammunition and arms they took possession of, telling the young men that they would be sent on to Johannesburg, where, if they could gain permission from the authorities there, they might get them, or part of them, returned. The police gave no promise, however, neither did they favour them with any list of what they had taken. In fact, as the boys felt, with raging hearts, they were being treated exactly like prisoners in an enemy's country. They were fleeced and left utterly defenceless, with the exception of their belt-knives. This was all the harder to bear when they saw that Stephanus and his cousin were permitted to retain their rifles, revolvers, and cartridges. It was privileges for the Boer, and none for the Uitlander. They protested against this gross injustice, but were told roughly that they ought to be thankful that they were not taken in charge for bringing arms of any kind into the country. Also, to their indignation, they were subjected to a close personal search, and every paper they had in their pockets opened and read. Ned now understood why he had been told to place that missive inside his boot, for even their shirts were felt over to see that they had nothing concealed inside. They were certainly at last inside a land of suspicion and gross tyranny. "So this is the result of democracy," said Ned, with a bitter laugh. "I suppose every man here is either a tyrant, a traitor, or a spy." "Take heed what you say, young fellow," grunted one of the Boer policemen. "Remember you are not in England now, but in a country where wagging tongues are silenced pretty quickly." "Ah! you need not remind me that I am not in England. Your actions have proved conclusively that we are subject to the glorious laws of the Republic. By Jove, though, I wonder what my countrymen would say if a foreigner was treated to this usage in England? Oh my! wouldn't there be a public conflagration!" "We are free men here." "You are, whatever your visitors may be." The policeman looked at Ned with a suspicious and most unfriendly scowl. "Are you going to stay long in the Transvaal, younker?" he asked. "I don't think so. Why?" "Because I fancy, if you were, that you would be likely to spend most of your time in the tronk and the stocks. That is where your sort mostly find a home here." Ned prudently did not reply. His shirt had been examined and his pockets turned out. He did not want to have to unlace his boots next.