"I wish you a pleasant journey," said our host the next morning, as we
prepared to mount. "Have you money enough? Yes? Well, in any case, take
this biltong along in your saddle-bags; it's my own make, you'll find it
good. Keep a good look-out. Good-bye!"

After thanking him warmly for his kindness, we rode off. Halting but
once to feed and water our horses, we reached a farm near Bethlehem
towards evening, where we spent the night. We were awakened by the sound
of a heavy bombardment in the direction of Bethlehem, which informed us
that the British were attacking the town. With an optimism that now
seems marvellous, we never for a moment doubted that the enemy would be
driven back, and that we would at last be able to take a little repose,
for twelve hours daily in the saddle was beginning to tell on us. Quite
cheerfully we rode down to the village, listening to the music of the
bursting shells and the lively rattle of the small-arms. Suddenly a
cloud of Boers issued from a kopje to our right, and slowly retreated
across our front. We rode up to them and learnt that they had just
received orders to retire, as the place could no longer be defended. It
appeared that the British general had informed De Wet that if he did not
surrender the town it would be bombarded. Most of the property belonged
to British subjects, so De Wet ordered all loyal inhabitants to leave
the town, and then told the general to bombard as much as he liked,
which the latter forthwith proceeded to do. De Wet had placed a couple
of guns on the mountain overlooking the town, and this, together with
Theron's hundred and fifty men--the only commando seriously engaged that
day--sufficed to keep the British back for three hours. De Wet's own men
were kept in reserve to meet the usual outflanking movement. The latter
did not take place, however, the enemy coming straight on. Finally
something went wrong with one of our two guns, and Theron being hard