most capable men.

"Very sorry," he answered; "I've been here for a week, and no one has
troubled to send me any food. I've managed to get a loaf of bread from
that farm yonder now and then, but their supply is exhausted, and I
don't know what to do next."

"Why don't you ask the President's party for food? We all know they fare
well enough."

"I've sent them message after message, but can get no satisfaction. All
they think about is the amount of work they can get out of me. Little
they care what my troubles are!"

This was really a shameful state of affairs, and I began to grow
disgusted with the whole business. Not satisfied with refusing to supply
him with food, a passing commando had stolen his cart-horses, so that he
had no means of leaving the spot.

It was a clear case of selfish and brutal neglect. I condoled with the
poor fellow, and rode back to the laager. De Wet was still absent. It
appeared that we were going to lie there for days, instead of the whole
expedition being over in a day or two. After thinking the matter over, I
decided to return to Frankfort and carry out my intention of going back
to the Transvaal. Upon reaching Frankfort I explained the matter to the
Postmaster-General, adding that the expedition would probably take a
couple of weeks, by which time the Free State would already be cut off
from the Transvaal, and my return rendered impossible. He urged upon me,
however, to postpone my departure. During the day a telegram arrived
from De Wet, saying he had now decided to move forward, and asking that