Here are two days from my diary:—­

“March 18.—­Still here.  Yesterday we rose early, struck tents, harnessed horses, and waited for orders to go to the station.  Nothing happened:  the day wore on, and in the evening we bivouacked as we were in the open.  The night before we had great excitement about some mysterious signalling on the hills:  supposed to be rebels, and the Yeomanry detachment (who are our escort) sent out patrols, who found nothing.  To-day we are still awaiting orders, ready to start in half an hour, but they let us have a fine slack day, and we had a great bathe in the afternoon.  Ostriches roam about this camp, eating empty soda-water bottles and any bridoon bits they can find.  Three times a day we ride bareback to water horses at the re-mount depot, passing picturesque Indian camps.  Williams and I are sitting under our ammunition waggon, where we are going to sleep:  it is sunset and the hills are violet.  A most gorgeous range of them fronts this camp.

“March 19.—­Worse than ever.  No orders to start, but orders to re-pitch tents.  Delays seem hopeless, and now we may be any time here.  Cooler weather and some rain to-day:  much pleasanter.  Only two tents to a sub-division, and there are sixteen in mine, a frightful squash.  Long bareback ride for the whole battery before breakfast; enjoyed it very much.  Marching-order parade later.  Argentine very troublesome:  bites like a mad dog and kicks like a cow:  can’t be groomed.  To-day she tried to bite me in the stomach, but as I had on a vest, shirt, body belt, money belt, and waistcoat, she didn’t do much damage, and only got a waistcoat button and a bit of pocket!”

We were uncommonly glad to receive definite orders on the 20th to move up country.  The Battery was to be divided.  The right section to go to Matjesfontein, and the left section, which was mine, to Piquetberg Road.  Nobody knew where these places were, but we vaguely gathered that they were somewhere on the line of communications, which, rightly or wrongly, we thought very disappointing.  For two more days we stood in readiness to start, chafing under countermanding orders, and pitching and re-pitching of tents, so little did we know then of the common lot of a soldier on active service.

We were to go by train, and the right section under the Major started about midnight on the 20th, and we on the next day, at four o’clock.

Guns, horses, and waggons were entrained very quickly, and just at dark I found myself in a second-class carriage, one of a merry party of eight, sitting knee-deep in belts, haversacks, blankets, cloaks, and water-bottles.  We travelled on till midnight, and then stopped somewhere, posted guards, and slept in the carriages till dawn.

CHAPTER III.

PIQUETBERG ROAD.

Piquetberg Road—­A fire—­Kitless—­A typical day—­A bed—­“Stableman”—­ Picket—­A rebel—­Orders for the front, with a proviso—­Rain—­An ungrateful patient—­“Bazing”—­Swimming horses—­My work—­The weather—­A blue letter.