being watched by Broadwood’s cavalry, and as soon as we can move I expect we shall go for him.  Grazing in the afternoon.  Williams and I played picquet, lying by our horses.  This is always rather a precarious amusement, as the horses have a way of starting off suddenly to seek “pastures new,” and you look up and find them gone, and have to climb rocks and view them out.  We tie them all four close together, but there is generally one predominant partner who personally conducts the rest.  In the evening we baked cakes of our mealy flour, adding Mellin’s Food, mixed herbs, vanilla, and fat, and fried it in a fatty dish.  It was very good, and was followed by meat fried in mealy crumbs, and later on, some mealy porridge and Mellin mixed.  We tried Mellin alone first, but it seemed thin.  We read the directions carefully, and used the proportions laid down for infants over three months.  I dare say it would have been all right had we been four months old, but being rather more mature, it seemed unsubstantial.  Its main advantage is its sweetness.  In this hungry life, one misses sugar more than anything.

July 13.—­Reveille 6.30, and grooming, while the infantry chaps sat up in their beds and watched us sarcastically.  At nine, harness-cleaning for drivers, and grazing for gunners, but I have got a gunner who dislikes bare-back riding to do my harness while I graze.  I am writing on the veldt; warm sunny day, pale blue sky—­very pale.—­Back to finish harness-cleaning.  We always “grouse” at this occupation, as I believe all drivers do on active service.  We don’t polish steel, but there is a wonderful lot of hard work in rubbing dubbin into all the leather.  It is absolutely necessary to keep it supple, especially such parts as the collar, girths, stirrup-leathers, reins, etc.  Grazing again all the afternoon.  The horses have been on half rations of oats since we came here, so I suppose it is necessary.  I was sitting writing by my horses, when a cart rattled by.  Some one shouted, “Anything to sell?” It stopped, and there was a rush.  In it was a farmer and a rascally old Yeomanry sergeant who had been buying bread for his men, and now sold us a loaf and a half for six shillings.  There was no doubt about paying, and I got a third of one loaf, which we ate luxuriously in the evening.  It was of mealy flour, and tasted velvety and delicious after eternal biscuit.  We also organized a large bake of mealy cakes, which were a distressing failure, as the pan got red-hot.  I am afraid food and eating have become very prominent in my diary.  My only excuse is that they really are not disproportionately so, seeing their absorbing importance in the life of a soldier on active service, especially when he is far from a base and rations are short.

Some Boer tobacco was kindly sent to us by the Major, and was very welcome, for ’baccy has been very scarce, and you see fellows picking the wet dottels out of the bottoms of their pipes and drying them in the sun for future use.  Matches also are very precious; there are none to be got, and they are counted and cared for like sovereigns.  The striking of a match is a public event, of which the striker gives previous notice in a loud voice.  Pipes are filled, and every second in the life of the match is utilized.