, imitating even the noise of the big gun,
which seemed to produce great enthusiasm among these simple folk. Their
ruling passion, I afterwards found, was hatred and fear of the Boers,
and their dearest wish to possess guns and ammunition to join the
English in driving them back and to defend their cattle. In the distance
we could see the glimmering blue waters of a huge dam, beyond which was
the farm and homestead of a loyal colonial farmer named Keeley, whose
hospitality I had been told to seek. Close by were the barracks, with
seven or eight occupants, the same sort of depot as at Setlagoli. I
asked to see Mrs. Keeley, and boldly announced we had come to beg for a
few nights' lodging. We were most warmly received and made welcome. The
kindness of the Keeleys is a bright spot in my recollections of those
dark weeks. Mrs. Keeley herself was in a dreadful state of anxiety, as
she had that very day received a letter from her husband in Mafeking,
whither he had proceeded on business, to say he found he must remain and
help defend the town; his assistance was urgently needed there in
obtaining information respecting the Boers from the natives, whose
language he talked like his own. She had five small children, and was
shortly expecting an addition to her family, so at last I had found
someone who was more to be pitied than myself. She, on the other hand,
told me our arrival was a godsend to her, as it took her thoughts off
her troubles.

Affairs in the neighbourhood seemed in a strange confusion. Mr. Keeley
was actually the _Veldtcornet_ of the district, an office which in times
of peace corresponded to that of a magistrate. In reality he was shut up
in Mafeking, siding against the Dutch. The surrounding country was
peopled entirely, if sparsely, by Dutch farmers and natives, the former
of whom at first and before our reverses professed sympathy with the
English; but no wonder the poor wife looked to the future with dread,
fearful lest British disasters would be followed by Boer reprisals.

Towards sunset Vellum appeared with a note from Sergeant Matthews. It
ran as follows:

"The armoured train captured; its fifteen occupants all killed.[25]
Boers opened fire on the train with field artillery."

In our isolation these words sank into our souls like lead, and were
intensified by the fact that we had that very morning been so near the
scene of the tragedy--"reverse" I would not allow it to be called, for
fifteen men had