eered, and not a few were deeply
affected. Personally, ever since, when I see galloping artillery, that
momentous morning is brought back to my mind, and I feel a choking
sensation in my throat.

About a quarter of a mile from town the guns unlimbered, and we could
not help feeling satisfaction at watching the shells exploding in the
laager--that laager we had watched for so many months, and had never
been able to touch. The Boers had evidently never expected the column to
be in the town, or they would have cleared off. We had a last glimpse of
the tarpaulined waggons, and then the dust hid further developments from
sight. After about thirty minutes the artillery ceased firing, and as
the atmosphere cleared we saw the laager was a desert. Waggons, horses,
and cattle, all had vanished.

After their exertions of the past fortnight, Colonel Mahon did not
consider it wise to pursue the retreating Boers; but later in the
afternoon I went out with others in a cart to where the laager had
been--the first time since December that I had driven beyond our lines.
I had the new experience of seeing a "loot" in progress. First we met
two soldiers driving a cow; then some more with bulged-out pockets full
of live fowls; natives were staggering under huge loads of food-stuffs,
and eating even as they walked. I was also interested in going into the
very room where General Snyman had treated me so scurvily, and where
everything was in terrible confusion: the floor was littered with
rifles, ammunition, food-stuffs of all sorts, clothes, and letters. Among
the latter some interesting telegrams were found, including one from the
President, of a date three days previously, informing Snyman that things
were most critical, and that the enemy had occupied Kroonstadt. We were
just going on to the hospital, where I had spent those weary days of
imprisonment, when an officer galloped up and begged me to return to
Mafeking, as some skirmishing was going to commence. It turned out that
500 Boers had stopped just over the ridge to cover their retreating
waggons, but they made no stand, and by evening were miles away.

On Friday, May 18, the whole garrison turned out to attend a
thanksgiving service in an open space close to the cemetery. They were
drawn up in a three-sided square, which looked pathetically small.
After the service Colonel Baden-Powell walked round and said a few words
to each corps; then three volleys were fired over the graves of