I walked on leisurely through the night humming a tune and choosing the middle of the road.  The streets were full of Burghers, but they paid no attention to me.  Gradually I reached the suburbs, and on a little bridge I sat down to reflect and consider.  I was in the heart of the enemy’s country.  I knew no one to whom I could apply for succour.  Nearly three hundred miles stretched between me and Delagoa Bay.  My escape must be known at dawn.  Pursuit would be immediate.  Yet all exits were barred.  The town was picketed, the country was patrolled, the trains were searched, the line was guarded.  I had 75_l_. in my pocket and four slabs of chocolate, but the compass and the map which might have guided me, the opium tablets and meat lozenges which should have sustained me, were in my friend’s pockets in the States Model Schools.  Worst of all, I could not speak a word of Dutch or Kaffir, and how was I to get food or direction?

But when hope had departed, fear had gone as well.  I formed a plan.  I would find the Delagoa Bay Railway.  Without map or compass I must follow that in spite of the pickets.  I looked at the stars.  Orion shone brightly.  Scarcely a year ago he had guided me when lost in the desert to the banks of the Nile.  He had given me water.  Now he should lead to freedom.  I could not endure the want of either.

After walking south for half a mile, I struck the railroad.  Was it the line to Delagoa Bay or the Pietersburg branch?  If it were the former it should run east.  But so far as I could see this line ran northwards.  Still, it might be only winding its way out among the hills.  I resolved to follow it.  The night was delicious.  A cool breeze fanned my face and a wild feeling of exhilaration took hold of me.  At any rate, I was free, if only for an hour.  That was something.  The fascination of the adventure grew.  Unless the stars in their courses fought for me I could not escape.  Where, then, was the need of caution?  I marched briskly along the line.  Here and there the lights of a picket fire gleamed.  Every bridge had its watchers.  But I passed them all, making very short detours at the dangerous places, and really taking scarcely any precautions.  Perhaps that was the reason I succeeded.

As I walked I extended my plan.  I could not march three hundred miles to the frontier.  I would board a train in motion and hide under the seats, on the roof, on the couplings—­anywhere.  What train should I take?  The first, of course.  After walking for two hours I perceived the signal lights of a station.  I left the line, and, circling round it, hid in the ditch by the track about 200 yards beyond it.  I argued that the train would stop at the station and that it would not have got up too much speed by the time it reached me.  An hour passed.  I began to grow impatient.  Suddenly I heard the whistle and the approaching rattle.  Then the great yellow head lights of the engine flashed into view.  The train waited five minutes at the station and started again with much noise and steaming.  I crouched by the track.  I rehearsed the act in my mind.  I must wait until the engine had passed, otherwise I should be seen.  Then I must make a dash for the carriages.