“It was merry in the morning
    Among the gleaming grass,
    To wander as we’ve wandered many a mile,
    And blow the cool tobacco cloud
    And watch the white wreaths pass,
    Sitting loosely in the saddle all the while.”

And then the secret bivouacs and lurking-places along the river or in among the deserted hills.  The lookout from the tall pyramid, where I have kept watch so many hours day and night, in heat of sun or with stars glittering overhead.

It was from this kopje that we got notice to quit, by the way.  Our notice taking the shape of several little brown-backed Boers galloping about and spying at us from a hill one and a half miles to the north.  That night we drew out in the plain after dark and camped (no fires) among the bushes, and at grey dawn stole back to have another look.  Back dashes one of our advance scouts to tell us that a big force of Boers was just rounding the point.  Next minute we were swinging out into the plain, through the low scrub and thorn bush, and as we did so the Boers came through the Nek.  They must have known exactly where our usual camp was, and crept up overnight to cut us off.  It wasn’t by much that they missed.  Three or four loiterers, as it was, had a warm minute or two.  The first single shots grew to a sudden fierce crackle, like the crackle of a dry thorn branch on the fire, as they came through the bush.  But they came on nevertheless, one horse hit only, and joined us, and we formed up and started at a steady gallop for the hills beyond the plain, six miles off; where there was a quite strong camp, established a few days before, for which we have lately been scouting.  The Boers chased us some way, but we had got a long start, as they came through the rough ground, and they were never on terms with us.  Still it was near enough.  Five minutes earlier and what a slating we should have got!

We were told afterwards that the plan on this side was to draw the Boers south of the hills, so as to give the cavalry, which was to move westward just north of the range, a chance of cutting them off.  The cavalry, however, didn’t turn up.  No one seemed to know what had become of them, and I daresay they were saying the same of us.  The advice not to let your left hand know what your right hand is doing is sometimes rather too literally followed in these manoeuvres, I think.  Meantime the Boers have driven off all old Cook’s cattle and all Mrs. Dugmore’s too; and as we were sent out with the express object of “reassuring the farmers,” the result is not entirely satisfactory.

No matter; this was all a side issue; now for a larger stage and more important operations.  Blow trumpets and sound drums.  Enter Lord Roberts and the main army.

LETTER X

RELIEF OF KIMBERLEY

KIMBERLEY CLUB, February 18.