“March 4.—­Sunday.—­Green Point Camp.—­This is the first moment I have had to write in since last Tuesday.  I am on picket, and writing in the guard-tent by a guttery lantern.

“To go back:—­On Wednesday morning, the 28th of February, we steamed slowly up to a great deserted quay.  The silence struck me curiously.  I had imagined a scene of tumult and bustle on the spot where troops in thousands had been landing continuously for so long.  We soon realized that we were to supply all the bustle, and that practical work had at last begun, civilian assistance dispensed with, and the Battery a self-sufficient unit.  There was not even a crane to help us, and we spent the day in shoving, levering, and lifting on to trucks and waggons our guns, carriages, limbers, ammunition, and other stores, all packed as they were in huge wooden cases.  It was splendid exercise as a change from stable-work.  Weather melting hot; but every one was in the highest spirits; though we blundered tediously through the job, for we had no experience in the fine art of moving heavy weights by hand.  I forgot to take note of my sensations on first setting foot on African soil, as I was groaning under a case of something terribly heavy at the time.

“We worked till long after dark, slept like logs in the dismantled troop-deck, rose early, and went on until the afternoon of the next day, when we landed the horses—­of which, by the way, we had only lost four on the voyage—­harnessed up some waggons to carry stores, and were ready.  While waiting to start, some charming damsels in white muslin brought us grapes.  At about four we started for Green Point Camp, which is on a big plain, between the sea and Table Mountain, and is composed of soft white sand, from which the grass has long disappeared.

“Directly we reached it, the horses all flung themselves down, and rolled in it.  We passed through several camps, and halted at our allotted site, where we formed our lines and picketed our horses heel and head.  Then the fun began, as they went wild, and tied themselves in strangulation knots, and kept it up all night, as the sleepless pickets reported.

“After feeding and watering, we unloaded the trucks which had begun to come in, ate some bully-beef and bread, and then fell asleep anyhow, in a confused heap in our tents.  Mine had thirteen in it, and once we were packed no movement was possible.”

For two more days we were busily employed in unpacking stores, and putting the materiel of battery into shape, while, at the same time, we were receiving our complement of mules and Kaffir drivers for our transport waggons.  Then came our first parades and drills.  Rough we were no doubt at first.  The mobilization of a volunteer battery cannot be carried out in an instant, and presents numberless difficulties from which infantry are free.  Our horses were new to the work, and a few of us men, including my humble self, were only recent recruits.