Yet they never neglected family worship. Nor would they permit the stranger to go from them without reading a chapter, and delivering themselves of an unctuous prayer. Sylvan life amongst the pious doppers was very unlovely and revolting. Having already experienced so much, the young men hardly noticed the filthy and disgraceful conditions of the Johannesburg tronk, or jail. That they were crammed into a small cell of ten by twenty feet, along with twenty-five other prisoners, was nasty; yet they endured this fate with as much philosophy as they could. Twenty-eight prisoners, waiting their trial, were immured in this suffocating, dark, and noisome den, which could be compared with nothing else than the hold of a slaver, or the black hole of Calcutta. A third of these were Kaffir women, and the majority of the rest, the vilest and most foul-mouthed scum in Johannesburg. There was no separation of the sexes; they were all crushed together, regardless of their ages or offences. The atmosphere was horrible, for there was no other ventilation than what the opening of the door gave. It was opened occasionally by the warders as they thought fit, to give the captives a little air and prevent suffocation. The floors were cemented, and the roof of corrugated iron; but as water is a luxury in Johannesburg, and the Boers are averse to washing and also are regardless of dirt, weeks if not months had passed since last the accumulations had been shovelled out. The mind of an Englishman at home could not conjure up any idea approaching this abomination of stench and overpowering heat. Here our heroes had spent their first night of Boer prison life, listening, or rather trying to shut their ears, to the groans, curses, and obscenities of their fellow-captives. Packed closely together, they were forced to stand still and upright, with the perspiration pouring from them, and swallow the poison that entered their lungs instead of air. Many--indeed, most--of these prisoners had broken heads and other wounds, and these, clotted and untended, added to the disgusting horrors. When morning came, and they were hustled into the Pretoria train, they felt almost half dead. Faint and breathless, they gasped as they were dragged into the court, and listened to the charges with dull apathy. There was little enough fight in them now. By the time they reached Pretoria, however, their young constitutions, aided by the fresh veldt air, had restored both their appetites and their courage. In spite of their jailors' grunts of disapproval, they were laughing and jesting more from bravado than through good spirits. "We must show them we are game, no matter what happens to us," said Ned; and his chums' loyalty backed him up.