We camped at twelve near a big dam, and unharnessed, but only for a rest, resuming the march at about three, and halting for the night about ten miles farther on.  A profligate issue of rations—­five biscuits, four ounces of sugar (instead of two or three), duff and rum again.  A lovely, frosty night, the moon full, delicate mists wreathing the veldt, hundreds of twinkling camp-fires, and the sound of psalms from the prisoners’ laager.

August 9.—­In to-day’s march the character of the country changed, with long, low, flat-topped kopjes on either side of us, and the road in a sharp-cut hollow between them, covered with loose round stones—­a parched and desolate scene.  After about ten miles we descended through a long ravine into Winberg, with its red-brick, tin-roofed houses baking in the sun.  We skirted the town, passing through long lines of soldiers come to see the prisoners arrive, and out about a mile on to a dusty, dreary plain, where we camped.  We were all thrilling with hopes of letters. (Winberg is at the end of a branch of railway, and we are now in touch with the world again.) Soon bags of letters arrived, but not nearly all we expected.  I only got those of one mail, but they numbered thirteen, besides three numbers of the Weekly Times, and a delightful parcel from home.  I sat by my harness in the sun, and read letters luxuriously.  It was strange to get news again, and strike suddenly into this extraordinary Chinese imbroglio.  It appears the war is still going on in the Transvaal, and the rumour is that we shall be sent there straight.  Among other news it seems that the H.A.C. are sending the Battery a draft of twenty men from home, to bring us up to strength.  I heard from my brother at Standerton, dated July 21.  He was with Buller; had not done much fighting yet; was fit and well.  There was a disturbance just at dusk, caused by a big drove of Boer ponies, which were being driven into town, getting out of hand and running amok in the lines of the 38th.  Wrote a letter home by moonlight.  Very cold, after a hot day.  I should think the temperature often varies fifty degrees in the twenty-four hours.  Some clothing served out; I got breeches and boots.  I wish I could get into the town.  There are several things I badly want, though, as usual, the home parcel supplied some.

August 10.—­We were rather surprised to hear we might move that day, and must hold ourselves in readiness.  We all much wanted to buy things, but there was no help for it.  Had a field-day at button-sewing and letter-writing.  At eleven there was harness-cleaning, and I was sadly regarding a small remnant of dubbin and my dusty girths and leathers, when the order came for “boot and saddle,” and that little job was off.  In the end we did not start till three, and marched with the whole brigade nine miles, with one five-minute halt, through easy country, with an unusual number of clumps of trees, and camped just at dusk, near a pool, unharnessed