and difficult for small commandoes, such as ours, to move during the
daytime. The space between the Caledon River and Basutoland in which we
could move becoming daily more and more circumscribed and limited, we
determined to cross the Caledon River. Besides, we heard that the river
was rising, and so were anxious to ford it before it was in flood.

On the evening of the 12th of October we set out in the direction of the
river. At 10 P.M. we arrived at a farm, where we halted till 1 A.M. It
was our intention to stop at this farm for the night, but owing to some
strange foreboding of imminent danger I resolved to leave; and at 1
A.M. gave orders to saddle. As it was a very dark and cold night, some
of the burghers felt reluctant to leave, and I heard them saying, "What
is up again to-night with General Kritzinger? Surely we are perfectly
safe here! Why trek again in the bitter cold at midnight?" But my orders
had to be obeyed, and at 2 A.M. we were on the march.

Five of the men, who could not find their horses in the dark, were left
behind to seek them when it was light. At daybreak that farm was
surrounded and shelled by the enemy. Had we remained there we would have
been in a sad plight; the five men were all captured. We escaped, but
there was another trap for the next day. We off-saddled at a farm three
miles from the river. Commandant Wessels, three burghers and myself rode
to the Drift--"Basters Drift"--to see whether the stream was still
fordable.

Little dreaming that the enemy was concealed on the opposite bank of the
river, behind the ruins of an old homestead, and was watching us as we
gradually approached the river, we entered the stream and waded through
it. Arrived on the opposite side we sent one of the men back to call the
commando, for the river was rising rapidly. The other two burghers were