We halted while the mounted troops made a long reconnaissance, and
then came back to camp. It clouded up in the evening, and about eight
began to rain, and suddenly, with no warning, to blow a hurricane. I
rushed to my harness, covered up my kit in it, seized my blankets and
bolted for a transport-waggon, dived under it, tripping over the
bodies of the Collar-maker sergeant and his allies, breathlessly
apologized, and disposed myself as best I could. But the rain drove
in, and there seemed always to be mules on my feet; so, when fairly
wet through, I crept out and joined a circle at a great fire which
similar unfortunates had built, where we cooked two camp-kettles full
of mysteriously commandeered tea and porridge, and made very merry
till reveillé at 4.30 in the morning.




CHAPTER VIII.

SLABBERT'S NEK AND FOURIESBERG.


_July 23._--Harnessed up at 4.30, and marched out in a raw, cold fog,
all wet, but very cheerful. While halting at the _rendezvous_ to await
our escort, there were great stories of the night, especially of a
tempestuous scene under a big waggon-sheet crowded with irreconcilable
interests. We marched straight towards the mountains, ten or twelve
miles, I suppose, till we were pretty close up, and then Clements's
two great lyddite five-inch guns came into position and fired at long
range. They are called "Weary Willie" and "Tired Tim," and each is