The animal went very well as long as I did not interfere with the bent of its wayward desire, which was to proceed in any direction but the right one.  Have you ever steered an extremely willing young thing through her first waltz?  If so you will know what my feelings were after the first hour.  And now just imagine that the waltz lasted for four hours, and you will have some idea of my sufferings, for that is the length of time I was compelled to spend on the back of my new acquisition.

Scheepers had sent a couple of men on ahead a few days before in order to see if the coast was clear.  One of his heliographists and myself now rode ahead of the column, planted a heliograph on a suitable spot, and called up towards a high hill beyond Heilbron, where it had been arranged that the two scouts should be about this hour.  Scarcely had our heliograph glittered for a moment in the sun when back from the hill came a long flash of light.

“What news?” we asked.

“All quiet,” came the reply.

We returned to the column, which was marching wonderfully slowly, and informed Scheepers, who was pleased to find his men so punctual.  As we rode along he asked me a few particulars about the vibrator, wire tapping, and so on.  I told him how at Spion Kop the wire failed at the very moment it was needed most.

“Yes,” he remarked thoughtfully, “trifles often make all the difference.  I had an experience of that myself one night not so long ago.  We had laid a nice little trap near Kroonstad, put a charge of dynamite on the rails, placed the men in position, and waited for a train to come along.  After a few hours of suspense the latter appeared, and just as it was going over the charge I pressed the button.  What do you think happened?”

“The unexpected, I suppose?”

“Precisely.  To our disgust the dynamite did not do the rest, and the train puffed tranquilly past.  One of my battery wires had become disconnected in the dark, and through that one little detail the whole thing was spoilt.”

“At least from your point of view,” I said jestingly.  “But think what a narrow escape you had yourselves.  The train might have stopped, a searchlight might have thrown its piercing gleam over your waiting band, and a volley from a battery of maxims might have strewn the shuddering veld with your palpitating bodies!”

“Oh, no danger of that!” replied Scheepers lightly; “we knew there were no Graphic artists on board!”

Towards sunset the head of the column halted, nine miles from Heilbron, having done only twenty miles during the whole day’s march.  I say the head of the column, because the body of it was still straggling somewhere along the road, to say nothing of the tail.  We went to bed hungry, the men with the waggon being too lazy to make a fire.  I consoled myself with the prospect of a good breakfast in Heilbron the next morning, and slept as well as the cold would let me.