cal weakness, it seemed that love of life was
gone, and I thought almost with envy of a soldier I had seen during the
fight lying quite still on the embankment, secure in the calm philosophy
of death from 'the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.'

After the Boers had lit two fires they opened one of the doors of the
shed and told us we might come forth and dry ourselves. A newly
slaughtered ox lay on the ground, and strips of his flesh were given to
us. These we toasted on sticks over the fire and ate greedily, though
since the animal had been alive five minutes before one felt a kind of
cannibal. Other Boers not of our escort who were occupying Colenso came
to look at us. With two of these who were brothers, English by race,
Afrikanders by birth, Boers by choice, I had some conversation. The war,
they said, was going well. Of course, it was a great matter to face the
power and might of the British Empire, still they were resolved. They
would drive the English out of South Africa for ever, or else fight to
the last man. I said:

'You attempt the impossible. Pretoria will be taken by the middle of
March. What hope have you of withstanding a hundred thousand soldiers?'

'If I thought,' said the younger of the two brothers vehemently, 'that
the Dutchmen would give in because Pretoria was taken, I would smash my
rifle on those metals this very moment. We will fight for ever.' I could
only reply:

'Wait and see how you feel when the tide is running the other way. It
does not seem so easy to die when death is near.'

The man said, 'I will wait.'

Then we made friends. I told him that I hoped he would come safely
through the war, and live to see a happier and a nobler South Africa
under the flag which had been good enough for his forefathers; and he
took off his blanket--which he was wearing with a hole in the middle
like a cloak--and gave it to me to sleep in. So we parted, and
presently, as night fell, the Field Cornet who had us in charge bade us
carry a little forage into the shed to sleep on, and then locked us up
in the dark, soldiers, sailors, officers, and Correspondent--a
broken-spirited jumble.

I could not sleep. Vexation of spirit, a cold night, and wet clothes
withheld sweet oblivion. The rights and wrongs of the quarrel, the
fortunes and chances of the war, forced themselves on the mind. What men
they were, these Boers! I thought of them as I had seen them in the
morning riding forward through the ra