in the afternoon to behold the twinkling of a balloon.  It being broad daylight the stars were not visible.  Still, sceptical wiseacres refused to come outside to see the sight; they guessed it was “the sun.”  A variety of colours were to be seen about the balloon; the sceptics said it was a rainbow.  But there was no mistaking it in the light of day; the thing was really a balloon.  The rumour-monger seized his opportunity and circulated all over the city that portion of the Column were visible, or had halted, rather, at Kraalkop, where they ought to be visible.  Kraalkop accordingly was watched intently for eight and forty hours, but no sign of a human presence rewarded the vigil.  The Boers, meanwhile, evinced no signs of scenting danger from any quarter, and with their usual nonchalance kept leisurely shying shells at Kimberley.  These missiles were intended probably for the redoubts, as they fell mainly on the outskirts of the town.  They exploded on the hard roads, and suggested plenty of melancholy speculation as to the precise number of them that would be needed to double up for ever the entire population.  Fever continued to play havoc with both natives and Europeans.  The Siege was growing warm, insufferably warm, and the weather that nature gave us was in all conscience hot enough.  In our fourteenth week of hunger and thirst matters were as bad as they could be—­until the meat Directorate proceeded scientifically to confound the fallacy in their own peculiar way.

The half and half regulation had been in operation some days—­a few eating all they got—­others only half of it—­more again touching no meat at all lest they should (horrible thought!) mistake one half for the other.  This state of things did not satisfy the Authorities, and they proceeded to push the horse—­practically down our throats.  The feelings of the civilised citizens of the Diamond City can be better imagined than described when they read in the daily bulletin at the Washington Market that they would get—­not all horse indeed, but, in the words of the song, “it was near it.”  It was decreed that our ration should henceforth consist of four-fifths horse-flesh and one-fifth meat proper.  This reduced our allowance of solid (familiar) food to less than one ounce, or in other words to the dimensions of a small cake of tobacco minus several pipefuls!  It may well be doubted whether Gilbert has ever conceived anything so quaint.  I will not dwell on its whimsical side, nor on the feelings its realism stirred in the breasts of the suffering multitude.  In effect it caused a serious secession from the ranks of the party who had abstained altogether from horseflesh.  For when it came to a choice between no meat at all on the one side, and Boer bread and porridge exclusively on the other, it occurred to the seceders that even horse blood is thicker than water; so they passed under the yoke of hippophagy with perfect composure.  Still the party that suffered this defection lost