e soon in conversation.

Cronje's surrender had been officially announced to us on the previous
day, and I inquired whether he had heard of it. He replied that he knew
Cronje was in difficulties, but understood he had managed to escape with
his army. As for the surrender, it might be true or it might be false.
'We are told so many lies that we believe nothing.'

But his next remark showed that he realised that the tide had begun to
turn. 'I don't know what we poor Afrikanders have done that England
won't let us be a nation.' I would have replied that I remembered having
heard something about 'driving the English into the sea,' but I have
been over this ground before in every sense, and knew the futility of
any discussion. Indeed, when the debate is being conducted with shells,
bullets, and bayonets, words are feeble weapons. So I said with an irony
which was quite lost on him, 'It must be all those damned capitalists,'
and this, of course, won his complete agreement, so that he confided
that losing the position we had taken on the 27th was 'a sore and bitter
blow.'

It happened that two squadrons of the 13th Hussars had ridden forward
beyond us towards Bulwana, and at this moment the Boer artillery began
to shell them rather heavily. We watched the proceedings for a few
minutes, and the Boer was much astonished to see soldiers riding
leisurely forward in regular though open order without paying the
slightest attention to the shrapnel. Then several more squadrons were
ordered to support the reconnaissance. A great company of horsemen
jingled past the halted ambulances and cantered off in the direction of
the firing. My companion regarded these steadfastly, then he said:

'Why do they all look so pleased?'

'Because they think they are going to fight; but they will not be
allowed to. It is only desired to draw your fire and reconnoitre.'

The whole plain was now occupied by cavalry, both brigades being on the
move.

'Little did we think a week ago,' said the Boer, 'that we should see
such a sight as this, here in this plain.'

'Didn't you think we should get through?'

'No, we didn't believe it possible.'

'And you find the soldiers brave?'

'They do not care for life.'

'And Ladysmith?'

'Ah,' his eye brightened, 'there's pluck, if you like. Wonderful!'

Then we agreed that it was a sad and terrible war, and whoever won we
would make the gold mines pay, so that 'the damned capitalists' should
not think