ot stifle
conscience at the expense of justice, nor identify themselves with
iniquitous actions.

But the day will come--of this I am convinced--when not Pro-Boers only,
but all England will acknowledge our rights--the rights which we shall
then have earned by our quiet faithfulness and obedience. I cannot
believe that any father will look without pity on a child who comes to
him as a child should--obedient and submissive.

The 23rd of February, 1901, the forty-seventh anniversary of the Orange
Free States, had been a disastrous day for us indeed, but it was to end
in another miraculous escape, for in the darkness of that evening it
again happened that we were delivered from an apparently unavoidable
misfortune. As I have said already, the English were firing on my
rear-guard; at the same time my scouts came in to tell me that, just in
front of us, at a distance of not quite four miles, there was another
great army of the enemy. I had intended to march that night to the west
of Hopetown. But now if I went in that direction I should only run
straight on to this army. If we went to the left we could only advance
2,000 paces before being visible to the English on the kop close to
Hopetown, from where they could make known our movements by heliograph.
At our front, at our back, on our left, the outlook was hopeless; and to
the right lay the cruel river. Stand still we could not--the enemy were
upon us--it was impossible that anything could save us--no, not
impossible--a rescue was at hand.

The sun was just going down, and by the time we could be seen from
Hopetown, night would have covered us with its sheltering wings.

We should then be able to execute a flank movement, and make a detour
round the enemy who were before us. But now I knew that we must be
prepared to march nearly the whole night through, in order that we might
be able, early on the following morning, to cross the railway lines. If
we did not do this, then we should have the enemy close in our rear, and
perhaps an armour train threatening us in front. But ... there were the
burghers on foot and those who had weak horses; and I had not the heart
to make them march on foot for so long a time, yet the thought of
allowing such trustworthy patriotic burghers to fall into the hands of
the enemy was unbearable. I therefore decided on letting them take a
cross road to the north, to the banks of the Orange River about five
miles from our position. There, on the b