Small straw mattresses were given to them to sleep on at nights; these were placed side by side along the walls, leaving a narrow gangway between. These mattresses had served hundreds of prisoners before them; they were dirty in the extreme, worn by holes, and infested by other inhabitants beside themselves, that not only did not sleep when darkness fell, but did their best to murder sleep. A Salvation Army night-shelter might be as lively, but it could not be worse than were those unhallowed beds. They were placed upon the ground, and each morning were taken out and aired in the exercise-yard. Otherwise the cells were devoid of furniture. There were neither seats nor tables. All that afternoon the prisoners sat looking on the ground, as far away from the heated walls as they could get. As they had come in time for dinner, they got a basin of thin soup with some hard meat and black bread. This they devoured eagerly. At four o'clock they had a supper of mealie with salt and water. Then their beds were brought in, and they prepared to enjoy themselves. They were able to breathe; that was the sole comfort of that shivering night. Being dog-tired with their previous night's vigil, in spite of the tormentors that bit and stung them incessantly, our heroes soon fell asleep and forgot their miseries. In the morning at seven o'clock they got another dose of mealie-porridge and salt with water. Then they were allowed to go and wash themselves in the muddy streams that ran through the yard. All the prisoners were turned out to the yard at the same time. Kaffirs, Malays, and whites, thieves, murderers, and political prisoners, they were all mixed up like their mattresses, and permitted to wash their clothes and themselves in the same muddy stream together. On this day they were allowed to stay in the yard until five o'clock, and as it was about one hundred and fifty feet, they were able to take good exercise and have fresh air. They were not long before they began to play leap-frog and some other games, including a wrestling match between Ned and Fred, which was watched with keen interest by the other prisoners. At about half-past two they were pleasantly surprised by a visit from Philip Martin, who brought with him a Pretoria solicitor. Both listened to the story of their arrest, and the lawyer took notes, after which Philip said-- "I think we shall manage to square the Zarps, so that they will let you off mildly. The man with the broken jaw we must give a golden plaster to; but your most bitter witness will be Stephanus Groblaar. He will have his knife into you, and swear anything against you. His father is a personal friend and tool of the president." That night they did not sleep so well; on the whole, it was the most uncomfortable time they had ever experienced. They were glad when daylight came and the doors opened to let them out.