The cart was waiting for me here.  We bade adieu to the sick man, and drove on.  Towards sunset we overtook a man struggling along on foot, carrying a heavy saddle on his head.  He signalled to us to stop, and came panting up to the side of the cart.

“My horse died this morning,” he said, “and I’ve been carrying this saddle all day.  Can’t you load it up for me as far as Lindley?”

The man looked so thoroughly done up that I felt sorry for him.  Besides, I wanted to stretch my legs a bit, so I said that he could take my seat, and I started off on foot while they were strapping fast the saddle.  The exercise was so agreeable in the fresh evening air that I continued it, and kept ahead of the cart until we reached Lindley.  We went to the hotel, had a good dinner, and then to bed.

LINDLEY TO HEILBRON

Lindley and Heilbron were each in telegraphic communication with all the other towns still in our possession, and consequently also with each other; but no telegraph line ran between the two.  A message from one to the other had to travel via Johannesburg and Kroonstad, involving a delay of several hours.  It was our task to make good this missing link.  Haste was required, for the British were already marching on Kroonstad, whence the Government was preparing to retire, ostensibly to Lindley, but in reality to Heilbron.

Unfortunately the material wherewith the new line was to be built had not yet arrived from the Transvaal.  The inspector decided not to wait, but to build the line without it.

“Build a line without material?  Impossible,” you say.  Not at all.  You forget the fences; we did not.

Our first care was to obtain a list of those farms along the road whose fences joined.  This did not take many hours.  Being joined here by a lineman, who had charge of half a dozen natives and a waggon, we loaded our luggage on the latter, as well as a sack or two of meal—­the only foodstuff we could obtain, and began work, each armed with a spanner and a couple of iron tent-pegs.

The fences were in bad repair, many of the stone poles having fallen down and the wires being broken and tangled every few hundred yards.  Lifting the heavy stones and repairing and untangling the barbed wire was unaccustomed work, and soon our hands were covered with cuts and bruises.  The distance by road between the two points is only about forty miles, but owing to the fences running at all angles to each other we had about seventy miles to cover.  This it took us a week to do, rising early, working all through the day, and continuing in the moonlight at night.  By buying a couple of sheep to supplement the bags of meal, and drinking a gall-like imitation coffee brewed from barley, we managed to fare well enough, and better than thousands of others are faring to-day.