Two parties, of forty Boers apiece, passed north along the road behind Telegraph Ridge whilst I was on Observation Hill in the morning.  But there was no special meaning in their movements, and absolutely no news came in.  Only rumours, the rumours of despair—­Warren surrounded, Buller’s ammunition train attacked and cut to pieces, the whole relieving force in hopeless straits.

In the town and camps things went on as usual, under a continued weight of depression.  The cold and wet of the night brought on a terrible increase of dysentery, and I never saw the men look so wretched and pinched.  When officers in high quarters talk magnificently about the excellent spirits of the troops, I think they do not always realise what those excellent spirits imply.  I wish they had more time to visit the remnants of battalions defending the hills—­out in cold and rain all night, out in the blazing sun all day, with nothing to look forward to but a trek-ox or a horse stewed in unseasoned water, two biscuits or some sour bread, and a tasteless tea, generally half cold.  No beer, no tobacco, no variety at all.  To me, one of the highest triumphs of the siege is the achievement of MacNalty, a young lieutenant of the Army Service Corps.  For nights past he has been working in the station engine shed at an apparatus of his own invention for boiling down horses into soup.  After many experiments in process and flavouring, and many disappointments, he has secured an admirable essence of horse.  This will sound familiar and commonplace to people who can get a bottle of such things at grocer’s, but it may save many a good soldier’s life none the less.  I hope to see the process at work, and describe it later on.

Mr. Lines, the town clerk, who has quietly stuck to his duties in spite of confusion and shells, gave me details to-day of the rations allowed to civilians.  During the siege there has been a fairly steady white population of 560 residents and 540 refugees, or 1,100 in all.  This does not include the civilians at Intombi, whose numbers are still unpublished.  Practically all the civilians are drawing rations, for which they apply at the market between 5 and 7 p.m.  They get groceries, bread or biscuit, and meat in the same quantities as the soldiers.  Children under ten receive half rations.  Each applicant has to be recommended by the mayor or magistrate, and brings a check with him.  I suppose the promise to pay at the end of the siege is only a nominal formula.

The civilian Indians and Kaffirs number 150 and 300 respectively, and draw their rations at the station, the organisation being under Major Thompson, A.C.G., as is the whole of the milk supply, now set aside for the sick.  The Indian ration is atta, 4 oz.; rice, 3 oz.; mealie meal, 9 oz.; salt, 1/2 oz.; goor, 1-1/4 oz.; amchur, 1/4 oz.  And those who will eat meat get 8 oz. twice a week instead of mealies.  The Kaffir ration is simpler:  fresh meat, 1 lb.; mealie meal, 3/4 lb.; salt, 1/2 oz.