unshaven, out at knees, and was carrying half a sack of fuel—­a mission like this has to serve subsidiary purposes—­and felt like an abject rag-and-bone-picking ruffian.  He took the paper, signed it, and went on about his confounded dinner.  However, I expect mine rivalled his for once in a way, for when I got back one of the “boys” (nigger drivers) had cooked our chicken and cabbage, and we ate it, followed by scones and marmalade, and, to wind up with, black coffee, made from some rye coffee given us by one of our Canadian prisoner friends.  I had met one of them near the telegraph office, and visited his quarters.  Rye makes remarkably good strong coffee, with a pleasant burnt taste in it.  The camp had filled up a bit, the Manchesters, Staffords and 2nd Field Battery, of Rundle’s division, having come in.  We also played with flour and fat over our fire, and made some chupatties.  The Captain had sent a foraging party out to secure fat at any price.  Quite a warm night.  A deep furrow passed near my harness, and I had a most comfortable bed in it.

July 31.—­The first batch of 250 prisoners have come in, and are herded near.  They are of all ages from sixty to fifteen, dressed in all varieties of rough plain clothes, with some ominous exceptions in the shape of a khaki tunic, a service overcoat, etc.  Some seemed depressed, some jocular, the boys quite careless.  All were lusty and well fed.  Close by were their ponies, tiny little rats of things, dead-tired and very thin.  Their saddles were mostly very old, with canvas or leather saddle-bags, containing cups, etc.  I saw also one or two horses with our regimental brands on them.  Some had bright-coloured rugs on them, and all the men had the same, which lent vivid colour to the otherwise sombre throng.

We watered and grazed near an outlying picket, and saw many prisoners coming in in twos and threes, and giving up their rifles.  What will they do with them?  They are nominally rebels since the 15th of June; but I doubt if a tenth of them ever heard of Roberts’s proclamation.  Communications are few in this big, wild country; and their leaders systematically deceive them.  Besides, to call the country conquered when Bloemfontein was taken, is absurd.  The real fighting had not begun then, and whole districts such as this were unaffected.  It seems to me that morally, if not legally, these people are fair-and-square civilized belligerents, who have fought honestly for their homes, and treated our prisoners humanely.  Deportation over-sea and confiscation of farms seem hard measures, and I hope more lenience will be shown.

In the evening Doctor Moon, of the Hampshire Yeomanry, a great friend of Williams, turned up, and had supper with us.  We had no fatted calf to kill; but fortunately could show a tolerable menu, including beef and marmalade.

I was on picket this night.  About midnight a lot of Boer prisoners, and a long train of their ox-waggons, began coming in.  It was very dark, and they blundered along, knocking down telegraph posts, and invading regimental lines, amidst a frightful din from the black drivers, and a profane antiphony between two officers, of the camp and the convoy respectively.