be imagined that the task of the D.A.A.G. was not a light one.  Up to April the town consumed 4,099 tons of food-stuffs; 12,256 tons of oats, fodder, meal, and flour; and 930 tons of fuel; making a total of 17,285 tons.  Of matches, the supply of which was soon exhausted, 35,400 boxes were used, and to take their place tiny paraffin lamps were supplied to all, which burnt night and day.  Fortunately, the supply of liquid fuel was very large, and it would have taken the place of coal if the siege had been indefinitely prolonged.  Among miscellaneous articles which were luckily to be obtained at Weil’s stores were 2 tons of gunpowder and other ammunition, 132 rifles, insulated fuses, and electric dynamos for discharging mines, etc.

About a month after the siege started, the C.O. placed an embargo on all food-stuffs, and the distribution of rations commenced.  From then onward special days were allowed for the sale of luxuries, but always in strictly limited quantities.  At first the rations consisted of 1-1/4 pounds of meat and 1-1/4 pounds of bread, besides tea, coffee, sugar, and rice.  As time went on these were reduced, and towards the end of March we only had 6 ounces of what was called bread and 1 pound of fresh meat, when any was killed; otherwise we had to be content with bully beef.  As to the “staff of life,” it became by degrees abominable and full of foreign substances, which were apt to bring on fits of choking.  In spite of this drawback, there was never a crumb left, and it was remarkable how little the 6 ounces seemed to represent, especially to a hungry man in that keen atmosphere.

One day it was discovered there was little, if any, gold left of the L8,000 in specie that was lodged at the Standard Bank at the beginning of the siege.  This sum the Boers had at one time considered was as good as in their pockets.  It was believed the greater portion had since been absorbed by the natives, who were in the habit of burying the money they received as wages.  In this quandary, Colonel Baden-Powell designed a paper one-pound note, which was photographed on to thick paper of a bluish tint, and made such an attractive picture that the Government must have scored by many of them never being redeemed.

It was not till Ash Wednesday, which fell that year on the last day of February, that we got our first good news from a London cable, dated ten days earlier.  It told us Kimberley was relieved, that Colesberg was in our hands, and many other satisfactory items besides.  What was even of greater importance was a message from Her Majesty Queen Victoria to Colonel Baden-Powell and his garrison, applauding what they had done, and bidding them to hope on and wait patiently for relief, which would surely come.  This message gave especial pleasure from its being couched in the first person, when, as was universally remarked, the task of sending such congratulations might so easily have been relegated to one of Her Majesty’s Ministers.  I really