and thoughtful of these colonists all the same.

By the time we reached Wynberg on 16th December it was quite dark. A row
of ambulance waggons stood ready beyond the platform, and in front of
them a line of St. John's Ambulance men, fresh from England, looking
very spruce and neat. The wounded were speedily conveyed to the waggons
and safely lodged in the hospital. On a former occasion one poor fellow
died at the moment he was being lifted out of the train. My comrades and
myself had had about six hours' sleep in three consecutive nights, and
after we had remade the beds and swept the train we slept soundly. Next
morning we were on duty till twelve, when we were allowed a few hours'
leave. A warm bath and a lunch at the Royal Hotel with a good bottle of
wine was very welcome, and we were all in excellent spirits when the
whistle sounded and we steamed away once more to the north with 600
miles before us.

We halted again at De Aar, where we remained till Christmas. The weather
grew hotter and hotter. The whirling dust, the stony plains, the glaring
heat, the evening coolness, the glowing sunsets, the bare rocky hills,
how it all recalled the Sudan! Train after train lumbered by with stores
and guns and ammunition for the front, the whole of this enormous
traffic being run on a single line of rails. Amongst the most
troublesome items to deal with were the mules. Sometimes a mule would
suddenly produce a violent uproar in a waggon by beginning to kick, his
hoof against every mule and every mule's hoof against him. Even if these
beasties were taken out of the waggon to be watered their behaviour was
unseemly. A soldier would with infinite patience marshal the mules in
line with himself, their halters all tied together. The march would then
begin, but within half a dozen yards the mules in the centre would press
forward till the whole thing looked like a Pyrrhic phalanx. The wearied