for the most part, spread out among gardens full of roses, honeysuckle,
and syringa. But at the station all day and night the scene was not
idyllic. Every hour train after train moved away--stores and firewood in
front, horses next, and luggage vans for the men behind. The partings
from lovers and wives and children must be imagined. They are bad enough
to witness when our own soldiers go to the front. But these men are not
soldiers at all. Each of them came direct from his home in the town or
on some isolated farm. They rode up, dressed just in their ordinary
clothes, but for the slung Mauser and the full cartridge belt over the
shoulder or round the waist. Except for a few gunners, there is no
uniform in the Boer Army. Even the officers can hardly be distinguished
from ordinary farmers. The only thing that could be called uniform is
the broad-brimmed soft hat of grey or brown. But all Boers wear it. It
is generally very stained and dirty, and invariably a rusty crape band
is wound about the crown. For the Boer, like the English poorer classes,
has large quantities of relations, and one of them is always dying.

By the courtesy of the Pretorian Government I had secured room in the
guard's van for myself and a companion, who was equally anxious to
cross the Natal frontier before the firing began, and that was expected
at any moment. In the van with us were a score of farmers from
Middleburg way, their contingent occupying four trains with about 800
men and horses. For the most part they were fine tall men with shaggy
light beards, reminding one of Yorkshire farmers, but rougher and not so
well dressed. Most of them could speak some English, and many had Scotch
or English relatives. They lay on the floor or sat on the edge of the
van, talking quietly and smoking enormous pipes. All deeply regretted
the war, regretted the farm left behind just when spring and rain are
coming, and they were full of foreboding for the women and children left
at the mercy of Kaffirs. There was no excitement or shouting or bravado