by ignoring it. They continued ministering to the needs of the
horny-handed sons of toil. But the police--miserable
time-servers--_would_ do their duty; they were forced to uphold the
Colonel's law, and to requisition the services of the celebrated local
"trappers." The rebel Bonifaces were thus duly indicted, arraigned
before the Summary Court, and heavily fined or deprived of their
licenses.

The death of a sergeant of the Diamond Fields' Artillery threw a gloom
over the city. He was mourned for as one who, indirectly, had sacrificed
his life in defence of Kimberley. It was our first casualty; and made us
wonder how many more there were to be--or rather, if there were to be
any more.

Friday came, and with it came two English prisoners who had made good
their escape from the Boers. Their story was interesting. They carried
Martini-Henry rifles, but (as they explained) given a choice in the
selection, would have chosen Mausers. Their friends, the enemy, had
presented them with the weapons--conditionally; all they had asked in
return was that the recipients should join the Republican ranks. The
Englishmen scratched their heads, hesitated about striking a bargain,
and were promptly commandeered. They determined, however, to get the
best of the bargain at last; they escaped; and here they were in our
midst, easing their consciences with expressions of their intention to
restore the rifles to their rightful owners when the war was over, and
as much of the ammunition as possible, on the instalment plan, while it
lasted.

They had heard pitiful tales of the straits to which we had been
reduced. Imaginative natives had assured them that there was "no more