When his purpose was explained to the Boers on duty, they suggested that he should accompany some of their number to the commandant’s camp, and, without taking the precaution to blindfold him, they led the way thither, chatting pleasantly all the way about every topic except fighting.  On reaching a group of tents, the exact position of which he for honourable reasons will not mention even to his own chief, Major King was confronted by a Boer leader, who was at first very wroth with the escort for bringing an English officer through the lines in that unceremonious way.  When matters had been explained, however, the commandant, as he turned out to be, introduced himself, saying: 

“My name is Viljoen.  You have probably heard a great deal about me, if not much that is good.  Some of your countrymen in the Transvaal thought me a very bad lot, and as they are now with the Imperial Light Horse in Ladysmith, I daresay there are many queer stories told about me; but I am not quite so bad as they make out.  Your presence here without papers, however, is very awkward, and I have no alternative but to make you a prisoner.”

“Oh, that’s d——­d nonsense,” said Major King.  “I had no wish to come here, but your men insisted on bringing me.  My only object was to find out what had become of a brother-officer who should have got back to camp long before this.  I give you the word of a soldier that I did not want to find out anything about your position, and whatever I may have seen, which is precious little, will be told to no one.”

The commandant was in a difficulty, but agreed to send for one who is his senior in rank and submit the case to him.  During the messenger’s absence Major King was hospitably entertained, and his hosts, or captors, talked about sport, suggesting that some day might be set apart for an armistice, so that Boers and English might have a friendly race-meeting.  The commandant, by way of showing that he does not bear resentment for the things that have been said about him, described his experiences after the battle of Elandslaagte, from which he was a fugitive, and said: 

“I walked that night until I could go no farther, thinking that the Colonial volunteers were in pursuit.  If I had known they were English cavalry I should have given myself up, for I was nearly done.”

As pronounced by him, “Fiyune,” his name does not sound familiar to English ears, and it was therefore not until some time afterwards that Major King knew he had been entertained by the notorious Ben Viljoen, who was first reported among the killed at Elandslaagte, then as wounded and a prisoner, but who in fact got away from the fight almost unscathed, and now holds a command in the Boer force outside Ladysmith.  Interviews with a senior commandant, who was by no means complaisant, and finally with Schalk-Burger, followed.  The latter, after raising many difficulties and dangling prospects of imprisonment in Pretoria