Bethlehem over the veldt. A rather nice little town, but all the
stores shut, and looking like a dead place. It was full of troops.
Some stores had sentries over them, for there had been a great deal of
looting. We hammered at a store door, and at last a man came out and
said he had nothing to sell. However, he gave us leave to look round,
which we did with an exhaustive scrutiny which amused him. At first
there seemed to be nothing but linseed meal and mouth-organs, but by
ferreting round, climbing to shelves, and opening countless drawers,
we discovered some mealy flour, and reproached him for his
insincerity. He protested that it was all he had to live on, but at
last consented to sell us some, and some mixed spices, the only other
eatable he had, besides a knife and fork, braces and sponges. Then we
tried another store. A crusty, suspicious old fellow let us grudgingly
in, locked the door, and made the same protests. We were just going
when I descried some bottles on a distant shelf. He sourly brought
them down. They were Mellin's Food for Infants, and we bought six at
half a crown each; also some mixed herbs, and essence of vanilla. Then
we made a house-to-house visitation, but only got some milk from an
Englishwoman, who was so full of stories of Boer rapacity that she
forgot our wants, and stood, cup in hand, complaining about eight
ponies they had taken, while we were deaf and thirsty. The whole town
had an English appearance. They all abused De Wet. No fresh supplies
had come in for nine months, and the whole place was stripped. On the
whole, we thought we had done pretty well, as we had half a sack of
things, and another one full of fuel laboriously collected on the way
back.

Rumours in the town were rife. All agreed we could do nothing till a
supply-convoy comes in, now expected from Kroonstadt. We are
fifty-four miles, across mountains, from Harrismith on the east, and