which was in a valley almost entirely encompassed by high and rugged
mountains.

With my pickets out I felt at ease. I went to the farm-house, had
dinner, got a room, and laid myself down to enjoy the night's rest, on
which the enemy was soon to intrude so violently.

About 2 A.M. one of the pickets came to the laager to report a noise,
which sounded like the tramp of horses, but he could not, on account of
the intense darkness, see any objects. Warned by this report, we began
to make preparations for an attack. Veldt Cornet Kruger was at once
ordered to ascertain the truth of the report. But before he had left the
camp one of the burghers came back and assured us that it was a herd of
cattle.

Thus reassured, we betook ourselves to rest. Rest? No, certainly not.
The foe is at hand. No sooner had we wrapped ourselves up in the
blankets when, behold! rifle reports grated on our ears. The herd of
cattle was nothing else than Colonel Scobell's column. Alas! our pickets
had been cut off and hence could not report on the enemy.

Imagine our position! I began dressing as fast as I could, faster than
ever before in my life. So near was the enemy, that when I reached the
back door of the house in which I slept they had already entered by the
front door. Had it not been for some plucky burghers the enemy would
have completely cut off my exit and I would have been captured.

Fortunately the way was still open at the back door. What a scene I
witnessed outside! Friend and foe were so intermingled, and engaged in
hand-to-hand fight, that it was impossible to distinguish the one from