The net result of the morning’s work was the knowledge that Hamilton was leaving Heilbron at that very moment, and leaving it ungarrisoned.  This information I hastened to communicate to my chief, with the result that within a very short space of time we were again in telegraphic communication with that town and in possession of several hundred sick and wounded that the British had kindly left to our care.  At Spion Kop we wanted their wounded, but did not get them; here we did not want them in the least, but we got them all the same.

My next task was the maintenance of the fence line between Frankfort and Reitz.  A testing station had been established half-way between the two villages, consequently the communication was fairly good and there was not much for me to do.  One day a message arrived from my chief in Pretoria, asking me to go thither, and accompany him northwards when the capital should be abandoned.  The Postmaster-General of the Free State, however, insisted upon my remaining a few days longer.

A little while after De Wet’s commando entered the village about a thousand strong.  The rumour went that De Wet was going to rest for a week and then strike a heavy blow.  No sooner had the column halted on the bank of the river than De Wet himself rode over to our office, accompanied by his secretary.  They wrote out a few telegrams, and then De Wet entered into conversation with the Postmaster-General.  His tone and manner lacked the slightest cordiality.  He asked the Postmaster-General whether he was sure, quite sure, that the British side of our telegraph lines was always cut, so that the enemy could not tap our messages.  Yes, the chief was quite sure.  But De Wet thought it best that instructions to that effect should be re-issued, so as to leave no excuse for any possible negligence.  This suggestion was carried out on the spot.

The chief then introduced me to De Wet.  Compared with Louis Botha, or almost any other of our generals, De Wet presented but a sorry sight.  His manners are uncouth, and his dress careless to a degree.  His tactlessness, abrupt speech, and his habit of thrusting his tongue against his palate at every syllable, do not lessen his undeniable unattractiveness.  But De Wet, if he lacks culture, certainly has an abundance of shrewdness, and is not without some dignity at times.  And I must confess that it is chiefly owing to De Wet and Steyn that the war did not end with the fall of Pretoria.  What is the secret of his success?  This, he has one idea, one only—­the independence of his country.  Say to him—­

“If the English win——­” and he breaks in—­

“If the heavens fall——­”

Choosing his lieutenants by results only, he is assured of good service.  An incorrect report, and the unlucky scout is tried by court-martial.

Whilst giving this modern Cincinnatus due credit for his undoubted smartness, it must be borne in mind that the movements of the Free State forces were generally determined by the Oorlogscommissie, a body made up of President Steyn, Judge Hertzog, Advocate De Villiers, and two or three other prominent men, whose trained intellects concerted the plan of campaign, De Wet being entrusted with its execution.  He had power to alter details according as circumstances might dictate, but that was all.