‘He will come when the army is ready.’

‘But we have beaten the army.’

‘No, the war has not begun yet.’

‘It’s all over for you, old chappie, anyway.’

It was a fair hit.  I joined the general laughter, and, reviewing the incident by the light of subsequent events, feel I had some right to.

Very soon after this we were ordered to march again, and we began to move to the eastward in the direction of the Bulwana Hill, descending as we did so into the valley of the Klip River.  The report of the intermittent guns engaged in the bombardment of Ladysmith seemed very loud and near, and the sound of the British artillery making occasional reply could be plainly distinguished.  After we had crossed the railway line beyond Nelthorpe I caught sight of another evidence of the proximity of friends.  High above the hills, to the left of the path, hung a speck of gold-beater’s skin.  It was the Ladysmith balloon.  There, scarcely two miles away, were safety and honour.  The soldiers noticed the balloon too.  ‘Those are our blokes,’ they said.  ’We ain’t all finished yet,’ and so they comforted themselves, and a young sergeant advanced a theory that the garrison would send out cavalry to rescue us.

We kept our eyes on the balloon till it was hidden by the hills, and I thought of all that lay at the bottom of its rope.  Beleaguered Ladysmith, with its shells, its flies, its fever, and its filth seemed a glorious paradise to me.

We forded the Klip River breast high, and, still surrounded by our escort, trudged on towards the laagers behind Bulwana.  But it was just three o’clock, after about ten hours’ marching, that we reached the camp where we were to remain for the night.  Having had no food—­except the toasted ox, a disgusting form of nourishment—­and being besides unused to walking far, I was so utterly worn out on arrival that at first I cared for nothing but to lie down under the shade of a bush.  But after the Field-Cornet had given us some tea and bully beef, and courteously bidden us to share the shelter of his tent, I felt equal to further argument.

The Boers were delighted and crowded into the small tent.

‘Will you tell us why there is this war?’

I said that it was because they wanted to beat us out of South Africa and we did not like the idea.

‘Oh no, that is not the reason.’  Now that the war had begun they would drive the British into the sea; but if we had been content with what we had they would not have interfered with us—­except to get a port and have their full independence recognised.

’I will tell you what is the real cause of this war.  It’s all those damned capitalists.  They want to steal our country, and they have bought Chamberlain, and now these three, Rhodes, Beit, and Chamberlain, think they will have the Rand to divide between them afterwards.’

’Don’t you know that the gold mines are the property of the shareholders, many of whom are foreigners—­Frenchman and Germans and others?  After the war, whatever government rules, they will still belong to these people.’