sent to reconnoitre ahead, while Wessels and myself remained on the bank
of the river.

Scarcely had the two men left us, when we were startled by rifle reports
close by. We jumped up, ran to our horses, and saw that we were hardly
100 yards away from the enemy. All we could do was to recross the river,
and that had to take place in a shower of bullets. Let one imagine
himself in a swollen river, so deep that his horse has to swim now and
then, and the foe on the bank directing an incessant fire on him, and he
will realise to some extent our position. We reached the bank safely,
but had to do another 800 yards to get out of harm's way.

The two men we had sent ahead--what became of them? Alas! they rode into
the jaws of death, for when they discovered the enemy they were hardly
15 yards from them. "Hands up!" resounded from behind the wall. The men,
rather than surrender and sacrifice their commando, made an ill-fated
attempt at escape. In the twinkling of an eye they were shot down. The
one--a young Trichard from Cradock--was dead on the spot; three bullets
penetrated his body. The other--young Wessels from Winburg--was wounded
in the leg and captured.

These two brave young men were the means of saving Wessels and myself
either from being captured or shot. And not only that, but their gallant
action, in which the one forfeited his life, and the other a limb,
proved the salvation of the whole commando. If they had surrendered
Wessels and I would probably have gone in the same direction, and the
commando would have followed, and so all of us would have been in a
terrible predicament. But they had risked their lives to save us from
certain destruction.