ere may be in this ancient turf adage;
but we do know that administrative work successfully performed in the
Intelligence Department of an army in the field leads a man to place
the lowest estimate upon the integrity of his fellows. The first
lesson is of an inverse nature, and compels a man, however he may
dislike the procedure, to believe those who move about him to be
knaves, until he has had opportunity to test their honesty. Young in
his knowledge of the people against whom he had been warring for
eighteen months, the Intelligence officer was exceedingly puzzled at
the strange anomaly presented by the Africander girl he had just left.
He could not help feeling that this daughter of a nation which he had
led himself, if not to despise, at least to depreciate, had fathomed
him in two short interviews, while he had penetrated little beyond the
surface of her feminine attractions and lively wit. He was puzzled at
the outcome of his interview, even perhaps a little alarmed at the
manner in which he had been treated--shocked at the erroneous estimate
which he had formed of Dutch women after eighteen months in their
midst. But this rebuff had served its purpose: it had sown in him the
seeds of that appreciation of our enemy which will have to generally
exist if we are ultimately to live in peace and concord, united as
fellow-subjects, with the people of South Africa.

* * * * *

It was now already dark, and the Intelligence officer had some little
difficulty in finding the house in which the general had taken up his
headquarters. The main street was still full of revellers, bursting
with Colonial _bonhomie_, but strangely lacking in topographical
information. In fact it seemed doubtful if the general's house would
ever be found, and the weary Intelligence officer was rapidly losing
his temper, when chance again came to his aid. A horseman came
galloping down the street. A little man in civilian attire--all
slouch-hat and gaiter. He seemed to be in a desperate hurry, as he was
flogging his tired and mud-bespattered animal unmercifully with his
_sjambok_. It was a beaten horse; and just as it came level with the
Intelligence officer, it stumbled, half recovered itself, and then
fell heavily in a woeful heap. The Intelligence officer pulled the
little civilian on to his feet, with a soft admonition about the
riding of beaten horses. The civilian shook himself, and turned to his
prostrate hors