ded in retiring his men from
a kopje to which they had advanced in scouting. He died the following
night at Vlakfontein,[6] and was buried the next (Friday) morning.

[Footnote 6: It was this Vlakfontein which was destined to
become notorious in the later history of the war. On the 29th
of last May (1901), the 7th Battalion I.Y. lost heavily in a
desperate fight at this place. Of the many gallant officers
and men killed, all the members of the Battalion, past and
present, must specially deplore the death of Surgeon-Captain
Welford, one of the kindest and most self-sacrificing of men.
Also Captain Armstrong, who joined the Battalion from
Strathcona's Horse, as lieutenant, in November last.
Lieutenant Pullar, writing to me in reference to the above,
recently remarked: "It is the same Vlakfontein where the poor
7th Battalion lost so heavily in May, and I fear there must
be many other graves there now."]

As my horse had gone a bit lame, I was riding with the convoy that day,
and so was able to wait and attend the funeral. I doubt the Fifes will
ever forget that day.

With _reveille_ rain began to pour in torrents. The advance and flanking
parties moved out of camp, the Fifes had been told off for rearguard, on
account of the funeral. Presently the convoy began to get under way with
a lowing of oxen and cracking of whips, mingled with the bleating of
captured flocks of sheep and goats. Standing under a tree beside my
horse I waited; through the blinding rain I could see the ox teams by
our Yeomanry lines swinging round in response to the niggers' shouts and
whips, and with a gurring and creaking the waggons one by one took their
place in the lengthy procession, disappearing in the dense atmosphere.
One tent had been left standing, right and left of its entrance were
drawn up the firing party and the rest of the squadron; leaving my horse
I fell in with them. The sergeants presently emerged bearing on a
stretcher, sewn up in the ordinary brown military blanket, the mortal
remains of their captain. Then through the never-ceasing rain, splashing
through pools of muddy water sometimes ankle deep, we slowly made our
way to the back of a farm some fifty yards away, where at the feet of
some huge blue gum trees, a grave had been dug. Several of the firing
party who had no cloaks had their waterproof sheets over th