horses tied up, and the routine of "stables" begun again.

It was our first bivouac in the open, and very well I slept, with my
blanket and waterproof sheet, though it turned very cold about two
with a heavy dew. A bare-backed ride of thirteen miles had made me
pretty tired.

The next day we were up at five, for a march of eighteen miles to
Stellenbosch. At mid-day we passed hundreds of re-mount ponies,
travelling in droves, with Indian drivers in turbans and loose white
linen. Half-way we watered our horses and had a fearful jostle with a
Yeomanry corps (who were on the march with us), the Indians, and a
whole tribe of mules which turned up from somewhere. In the afternoon
we arrived at our camp, a bare, dusty hill, parching under the sun.

We passed a week here, drilling and harness cleaning, in an atmosphere
of dust and never-ending rumours.

Here are two days from my diary:--

"_March 18._--Still here. Yesterday we rose early, struck tents,
harnessed horses, and waited for orders to go to the station. Nothing
happened: the day wore on, and in the evening we bivouacked as we were
in the open. The night before we had great excitement about some
mysterious signalling on the hills: supposed to be rebels, and the
Yeomanry detachment (who are our escort) sent out patrols, who found
nothing. To-day we are still awaiting orders, ready to start in half
an hour, but they let us have a fine slack day, and we had a great
bathe in the afternoon. Ostriches roam about this camp, eating empty
soda-water bottles and any bridoon bits they can find. Three times a