till eight for tea, as the buck-waggons had stuck somewhere; but I made some cocoa on a fire of mealy-stalks.  I forgot to say that Baden-Powell has joined the column with a mounted force and the Elswick Battery, and is now pushing on ahead.  I hear that Paget’s object is to prevent De Wet from joining Botha, and that Baden-Powell has seized some drift ahead over which he must pass.  Fancy De Wet up here!  An alternative to Maconochie was issued to-day, in the shape of an excellent brand of pressed beef.

August 22.—­Reveille at 3 A.M. for the right section, who moved off at once, and at 3.45 for my section.  We started at 5.30, and marched pretty quickly all the morning to Pynaar’s River, which consists of a station on the railway, and a few gutted houses.  A fine iron bridge over the river had been blown up, and was lying with its back broken in the water.  We camped here about one, and thought we were in for a decent rest, after several very short nights.  I ate something, and was soon fast asleep by my saddle; but at three “harness up” was ordered, and off we went, but only for a few hundred yards, when the column halted, and after wasting two hours in the same place, moved back to camp again.  One would like to know the Staff secrets now and then in contretemps like this; but no doubt one cause is the thick bush, which makes the enemy’s movements difficult to follow.  Rum to-night.  We went to bed without any orders for reveille, which came with vexatious suddenness at 10.45 P.M.  I had had about two hours’ sleep.  Up we got, harnessed up, hooked in, and groped in the worst of tempers to where the column was collecting, wondering what was up now.  We soon started—­no moon and very dark—­on a road composed of fine, deep dust, which raised a kind of fog all round, through which I could barely see the lead-driver’s back.  The order was no talking, no smoking, no lights, and we moved silently along under the stars, wrapped in darkness and dust.  Happily the road was level, but night marching is always rather trying work for a driver.  One’s nerves are continually on edge with the constant little checks that occur.  The pair in front of you seem to swim as you strain your eyes to watch the traces, and keep the team in even draught; but, do what you can, there is a good deal of jerking into the collar, and narrow shades of getting legs over traces.  Once I saw the General’s white horse come glimmering by and melt into the darkness.  About 3.30 A.M. lights and fires appeared ahead, and we came on the camp of some other force of ours, all ready to start; soldiers’ figures seen silhouetted against the dancing light of camp fires, and teams of oxen in the gloom beyond.  A little farther on the column stopped, and we were told we should be there two hours.  We fed the horses, and then lit fires of mealy-stalks, and cooked cocoa, and drowsed.  At six our transport-waggons came up, and we got our regular breakfast.  Then we rode to water, and now (August 23) I am sitting in the dust by the team, writing this.  There was a stir and general move just now.  I got up and looked where all eyes were looking, and saw a solitary Boer horseman issuing from the bush, holding a white flag.  An orderly galloped up to him, and the two went into a hut where the General is.  The rumour is that a thousand Boers want to surrender.—­Rumour reduces number to one Boer.