d strayed, so we were separated from our commando for some days.
When we found our horses we went to Ermelo, and stayed there until the
enemy were so close upon us that General Louis Botha, who happened to be
at Ermelo, and knew of our arrival, sent to say that we must leave the
town. We then joined his force and rode to Spion Kop.

'In the land of the blind the one-eyed is king!' Even so it was with
Spion Kop of the Hoogeveld Ermelo. During the three years of my
University life in that distant little country that stands by us now so
well in our need, I often climbed a hill about the size of Spion Kop.
That hill is famed for its height throughout the whole country, and
bears the formidable name of 'the Amersfoort Mountain.'

While the officers were holding a council of war, Malherbe and I rode
off to our commando. At Klipstapel we were allowed a few days' breathing
time, and there we prepared for the night attack on Smith-Dorrien's
camp, to the north of us. But our guide lost his way in the dark, and we
had to return. It was decided, nevertheless, to attempt the attack the
following night at Chrissiesmeer, where the camp was then. We had
everything in our favour. We were a strong force of many commandos, and
the enemy's force was not much larger.

That evening we were placed in quite a different order from the usual
one. The men of each corporal's division rode next to each other. The
Commandant or Veld-Kornet at the head, followed by the corporal with his
ten or fifteen men riding abreast, was followed by the next corporal
riding abreast with his men, etc. On looking back from the top of the
hill in the moonlight, one saw a broad dark mass of fierce, determined
men. Nearly every burgher had one or two extra horses, mostly mares with
foals, that we had commandeered and trained during our retreat on the
Hoogeveld. At that time every horse, trained or untrained, was put to
use. It was a pity that the mares with their foals were not left behind,
as they made a terrible noise with their whinnying. We walked our
horses; we were not allowed to utter a word or to light our pipes--that
was reasonable; but the neighing of the horses was not exactly in
accordance with our silence. Every now and again, when the whinnying of
the mares was at its worst, some burgher or other would give vent to an
exclamation of impatience. Every now and again someone or other would
light his pipe, taking care that neither the Veld-Kornet nor the en