the enemies come from." How often, also, had I
not had trouble in getting out of a dull sentry which his "front" and
what his "beat" was. The north, then, being my front, the east and
west were my flanks, where there might possibly be enemies, and the
south was my _rear_, where naturally there were none.

I settled these knotty points to my satisfaction, and off I trudged,
with my field-glasses and, of course, my kodak, directing my steps
towards the Dutch farm, with gleaming white walls, nestling under the
kopje to the northeast. It was quite a snug little farm for South
Africa, surrounded by blue gums and fruit trees. About a quarter of a
mile from the farm I was met by the owner, Mr. Andreas Brink, a tame
or surrendered Boer farmer, and his two sons, Piet and Gert. Such a
nice man, too, with a pleasant face and long beard. He would insist on
calling me "captain," and as any correction might have confused him, I
did not think it worth while to make any, and after all I wasn't so
very far from my "company." The three of them positively bristled with
dog's-eared and dirty passes from every provost marshal in South
Africa, which they insisted on showing me. I had not thought of
asking for them, and was much impressed; to have so many they must be
special men. They escorted me to the farm, where the guid wife and
several daughters met us, and gave me a drink of milk, which was most
acceptable after my long and dusty trek. The whole family appeared
either to speak or to understand English, and we had a very friendly
chat, during the course of which I gathered that there were no Boer
commandoes anywhere within miles; that the whole family cordially
hoped that there never would be again, and that Brink was really a
most loyal Briton, and had been much against the war, but had been
forced to go on commando with his two sons. Their loyalty was evident,
because there was an oleograph of the Queen on the wall, and one of
the numerous flappers was playing our National anthem on the harmonium
as I entered.

The farmer and the boys took a great interest in all my personal gear,
especially a brand-new pair of latest-pattern field-glasses, which
they tried with much delight, and many exclamations of "Allermachtig."
They evidently appreciated them extremely, but could not imagine any
use for my kodak in war-time, even after I had taken a family group.
Funny, simple fellows! They asked and got permission from me to sell
milk, eggs,