ing we got the order to 'prepare for three days.' For three
days! And we had not even provisions enough for one. But we understood
that there could not yet be a proper commissariat, and we fought for our
country willingly, convinced of the justice of our cause; so we
'prepared' cheerfully.

Before the commando started, a terrible thunderstorm came on that slowly
passed over and was followed by a gentle rain. We rode hard in the dark,
through dongas, past farms and houses, zigzagging in a half-circle, to
the mountains of Dundee. No sound was to be heard except the dull thud
of the hoofs of the galloping horses. Now and again we whispered to each
other how delightfully we were going to surprise the enemy. When the
horses came to a sudden pause, and an inexperienced rider, owing to a
presentiment of evil, involuntarily uttered his wish to 'halt,' we
turned upon him angrily and called him 'traitor.' We did not then know
that we were far beyond earshot of the enemy. It stopped raining, and
towards morning we reached the mountains; and after we had with great
difficulty got our horses on to the mountains, we had to await the dawn
in the cold, drenched to the skin. A mackintosh is of small service in
such a rain. When the day dawned we led our horses higher up. A thick
fog had come on. General Lucas Meyer was to begin the attack on the
west, and we were to surprise the enemy from the heights.

When the roar of cannon announced the battle, we were full of
enthusiasm, but General Erasmus forbade anyone to move on before the fog
lifted. It was quite possible that the fog might be only on the
mountain-tops, because of their great height, and that we would have
clear weather as soon as we began to descend, therefore several of our
men begged General Erasmus to be allowed to go on ahead as scouts. But
he was very much against it, and said that the enemy might cut off our
retreat, and 'if the enemy surround us it is all up with us,' said he.
As soon as the roar of the cannon ceased, we withdrew some distance into
the mountains to let our horses graze. But we had only just off-saddled,
when from all sides came the cry of 'Saddle! saddle!' and from our left,
in the valley, came the sound of firing. A detachment of 250 khakies,
probably knowing nothing of our whereabouts, and intending to pass round
the mountains and attack Lucas Meyer in the rear, was compelled to
surrender in a few moments, after first having sought cover in a kraal