The following day we had the pleasure of capturing the Commandant of Tarka Stad with his escort.  The enemy was so sure of our surrender that a report was sent to Tarka Stad to the effect that we were quite surrounded, and that they hoped to deliver us the following morning at 8 o’clock.  And as they might require some more ammunition to force us to surrender, the military must forward some.

The commandant of the village was taking this ammunition out when we met him.  His men, riding in twos and threes at some distance apart, were disarmed by us without wasting bullets on them.  At last the commandant, who happened to be some distance behind, came riding up to us.  As he came on I rode up to him and said in a friendly tone:  “Old chap, you’d better let me have your gun.”  Thinking that I was imposing upon him, he said:  “Come along; don’t play the fool!” When I had assured him that I was in earnest he remarked:  “But surely you are not a Boer.  Kritzinger’s commando is the only one in the district, and that is surrounded.”  Then taking the report out of his pocket he said:  “Just read this—­’Kritzinger surrounded, will be captured and brought in to-morrow.’” Imagine his astonishment on learning that he was then addressing the very man whom he had hoped to meet as a prisoner-of-war.

He handed me his rifle.  After that we had a long conversation, and enjoyed a drink together, as though we had never been at war.

The ammunition and horses were confiscated, and came in very useful after the engagement of the previous day.  The commandant and his party were then dismissed.

AGAINST THE RAILWAY.

Towards the end of July, 1901, large forces of the enemy had concentrated upon my commando.  Our only salvation then lay in crossing the Port Elizabeth railway line, near which we then were.

After a day’s fighting we set out to the line, but to our great disappointment and embarrassment we found the line securely guarded by armoured trains, which made it impossible for us to cross during the day.

The enemy had followed us up, and there was no chance of retracing our steps.  All we could do was to resist the foe till it was dark, and then try to escape.  This we did, and succeeded in repelling the enemy.  The burghers fought bravely, but at sunset they were forced to evacuate their positions and withdraw to a mountain next to the railway line.

This was our last position.  We could go no farther.  In front of us was the railway, behind and on our flanks the British columns.  Indeed, an uncomfortable situation!  We fought until it was quite dark; then the firing ceased, and we had time to plan an escape.  And this is what we did.  At 11 o’clock that evening numerous fires were kindled on the top of the mountain.  We knew that these fires would be misleading; the enemy, as long as they saw the lights, would think that we were still on the mountain, and, being less watchful, we might slip through.