have been quite close to them the next morning. When we saw these
lights, hardly three miles away, _then_ we woke up.

I then took the lead, and brought the commando to the farm we were in
search of.

At sunrise we arrived there, off-saddled, and gave our horses fodder.
The pickets were put out, and breakfast was prepared. But, alas! before
we could eat, the enemy was upon us, and our intended feast was
converted into a prolonged fast. So near was the foe, and so rapidly did
they advance, that we had scarcely time to saddle and seize the nearest
ridges. If it had not been for the marvellous celerity of the Boer, many
of the men would have been captured at that farm.

This was the 16th of December, 1901. The day I never shall forget in my
life's history, and in the history of the Anglo-Boer War. The sun rose
in splendour that morning, casting his rays upon me--a man in the prime
of life, full of energy and martial ambition. At eventide the scene was
changed! Weary, wounded and bleeding on a lonely plain, shrouded in
darkness, I lay, no more the man of the day, or of bygone days, but weak
and helpless as a babe.

Though I had taken part in many hot engagements, both as burgher and
commander, and had been in many tight corners, yet I do not recollect a
day in which we were so brought to bay, when we were so hard pressed as
that day. Early in the morning it was evident that the enemy had but one
design that day, and that was to force me to surrender. My commando was
about eighty strong. On my flanks were continually two British columns,
whilst a third one was following up at my rear. With such a small number
of men at my disposal, and three columns to oppose, it was next to