pressed, with the reserve too far away to render immediate help, the
order was given to retire. The artillerists profited by the occasion to
tumble the damaged gun down a precipice, saying that they had had enough
of repairing it. Here it was found by the enemy the next day. A rush was
made for the mountain passes, as it was feared the enemy might occupy
them and cut off our retreat, but this was not even attempted, and we
were allowed to gain our rocky fastnesses in peace. The following day
was spent in climbing up and down the steep footpaths over the
mountains, and that afternoon we arrived at the end of our journey,
Fouriesburg, having spent something like a hundred hours on horseback
during the last ten days. Our first move was towards the river, for we
had not had a bath for several days. After repeated splashes in the
chilly torrent we bought a few clean things, put them on, and then
gravitated towards the telegraph office. Needless to say, our colleagues
were surprised to see us, being under the impression that we had long
since reached the Transvaal. Whilst still busy giving explanations we
heard someone on the instrument calling Winburg. Now Winburg was in
British hands; it could be no other than a British station calling.
Wishing to gain a little information, we responded.

"Here, Winburg."

"Here, Bethlehem. Are you Winburg?"

"Yes."

"Then give the name of the officer commanding."

There was no time for hesitation, and in our haste we gave the wrong
name.