we separated, I had hastily hacked off a chunk for him, and kept the rest, and we now had a merry meal over the national animal of the Munsters.  It was pleasant to hear the rich Cork brogue in the air.  It seems impossible to believe that these are the men whom Irish patriots incite to mutiny.  They are loyal, keen, and simple soldiers, as proud of the flag as any Britisher.  At five we outspanned, with orders to trek again at the uncomfortable hour of 1 A.M.  The Orderly-corporal left me and a Sergeant Smith of the Munsters to sleep on the floor of the waggon, and the rest slept in a tent.  They gave us tea, and later beef-tea.  The sergeant and I sat up till late, yarning.  He is a married reservist with two children, and is more than sick of the war.  They gave us three blankets between us, and we lay on the cushions placed on the floor, and used the rugs to cover us both.  After some months of mother earth this unusual bed gave me a nightmare, and I woke the sergeant to tell him that the mules were trampling on us, which much amused him.  These worthy but tactless animals were tethered to the waggon, and pulling and straining on it all the time, which I suppose accounted for my delusion.

August 25.—­Saturday.—­At 1 A.M. the rest tumbled in on us, and we started off for the most abominable jolt over the country.  For a wonder it was a very cold night, and of course we were all sitting up, so there was no more sleep to be got.  At sunrise we arrived at Warm Baths, which turns out to be really a health-resort with hot springs.  The chief feature in this peculiar place is a long row of tin houses, containing baths, I hear; also an hotel and a railway station, then the bush-covered veldt, abrupt and limitless.  Baden-Powell and his troops are here, and I believe the Boers are behind some low hills which lie north of us, and run east and west.  Our cart halted by a stream of water, which I washed in, and found quite warm.  Coffee and biscuits were served out.  A lovely day, hot, but still, so no dust.  The column stops here a day or so, I hear.  We have been transferred to a marquee tent, where fifteen of us lie pretty close.  The Battery is quite near, and Williams has been round bringing my blankets, for it appears the drivers’ kits have come on from Pynaar’s River.  Several fellows came round to see me, and Williams brought some duff, and Ramsey some light literature; Williams also brought a Times, in which I read about the massacre in China.  I’m afraid the polyglot avengers will quarrel among themselves.  Restless night.  I believe I shall never sleep well under a roof again.  A roof in London will be a bit smutty, though.