At present I shall not dwell on deliverances from the fire-spouting machines of modern warfare, but confine my remarks to such escapes as were connected with attempts on the part of the enemy, either to secure my person or capture my commando.  Here again I shall only cite some instances; to relate all will be tedious to reader and writer alike.

In the beginning of July, 1901, just a few days after we had so successfully attacked and taken James Town, we arrived at a farm situated on the banks of the Kraai River, eighteen miles from Lady Grey.  Here was the enemy’s opportunity.

The owner of the farm—­Van der Merwe, a most loyal colonist—­was not at home, but, as we learnt afterwards, had gone to Lady Grey, or to the nearest English column, to announce the presence of my commando in his neighbourhood.  Of this unfriendly deed we were altogether unaware.

As soon as we had off-saddled, our scouts were sent out in different directions.  In the evening they returned with the report that for miles around us no traces of the enemy were to be seen.  The pickets for the night were then put out on the three main roads leading to the farm, which was in a valley almost entirely encompassed by high and rugged mountains.

With my pickets out I felt at ease.  I went to the farm-house, had dinner, got a room, and laid myself down to enjoy the night’s rest, on which the enemy was soon to intrude so violently.

About 2 A.M. one of the pickets came to the laager to report a noise, which sounded like the tramp of horses, but he could not, on account of the intense darkness, see any objects.  Warned by this report, we began to make preparations for an attack.  Veldt Cornet Kruger was at once ordered to ascertain the truth of the report.  But before he had left the camp one of the burghers came back and assured us that it was a herd of cattle.

Thus reassured, we betook ourselves to rest.  Rest?  No, certainly not.  The foe is at hand.  No sooner had we wrapped ourselves up in the blankets when, behold! rifle reports grated on our ears.  The herd of cattle was nothing else than Colonel Scobell’s column.  Alas! our pickets had been cut off and hence could not report on the enemy.

Imagine our position!  I began dressing as fast as I could, faster than ever before in my life.  So near was the enemy, that when I reached the back door of the house in which I slept they had already entered by the front door.  Had it not been for some plucky burghers the enemy would have completely cut off my exit and I would have been captured.

Fortunately the way was still open at the back door.  What a scene I witnessed outside!  Friend and foe were so intermingled, and engaged in hand-to-hand fight, that it was impossible to distinguish the one from the other.  Right in front of the door the gallant Commandant Calmon Caechet was wrestling with an opponent that proved too strong for him.  Next to him a certain Grobler had floored his man, and was handling him so roughly that the poor fellow called for help.  The one who was too strong for Caechet left him to render assistance to his brother in adversity.  Grobler then left his prey, and both he and Caechet seized their rifles and made for better regions.