I almost began to
understand the feelings of people who commit suicide. However, the long
day wore to a close, and at length we reached Setlagoli store and
hotel, kept by a nice old Scotch couple, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. The latter
was most kind, and showed us two nice clean rooms. Here, anyway, I
trusted to find a haven of rest. This hope was of short duration, for
Sergeant Matthews, in charge of the Mounted Police depot, soon came and
told me natives reported several hundred Boers at Kraipann, only ten
miles away. He said they were lying in wait for the second armoured
train, which was expected to pass to Mafeking that very night, carrying
the howitzers so badly needed there, and some lyddite shells. The
sergeant opined the Boers would probably come on here if victorious, and
loot the store, and he added that such marauding bands were more to be
feared than the disciplined ones under Cronje. He even suggested my
leaving by moonlight that very night. The driver, however, was unwilling
to move, and we were all so exhausted that I decided to risk it and
remain, the faithful sergeant promising to send scouts out and warn us
should the enemy be approaching. I was fully determined that, having
left Mafeking, where I might have been of use, I would run no risks of
capture or impertinence from the burghers, who would also certainly
commandeer our cart, pony, and mules.

Then followed another endless night; the moon set at 1 a.m., and
occasionally I was roused by the loud and continuous barking of the
farm dogs. At four o'clock Vellum's dusky countenance peered into the
room, which opened on to the stoep, as do nearly all the apartments of
these hotels, to ask if the mules should be inspanned, for these natives
were all in wholesale dread of the Boers. Hearing all was quiet, I told
him to wait till the sergeant appeared. About an hour later I opened my
door to have a look at the weather: the wind had dropped completely, the
sky was cloudless, and a faint tinge of pink on the distant horizon
denoted where the east lay. I was about to shut it again and dress, when
a dull booming noise arrested my attention, then almost froze the blood
in my veins. There was no mistaking the firing of big guns at no very
great distance.

We are accustomed to such a sound when salutes are fired or on a
field-day, but I assure those who have not had a like experience, that
to hear the same in actual warfare, and to know that each detonation is
deali