the field-cornets of the German
commando, prompted by goodness knows what, pressed forward south,
actually reaching the railway station at Elandslaagte. A goods train
was just steaming into the station, and it was captured by these
foolhardy young Moltkes. I was much dissatisfied with this action, and
sent a messenger ordering them to retire after having destroyed the
railway. On the same night I received instructions from General Kock
to proceed with two hundred men and a cannon to Elandslaagte, and I
also learned that Captain Schiel and his German Corps had left in the
same direction.

Imagine, we had gone further than had actually been decided at the
council of war, and we pressed forward still further without any
attempt being made to keep in touch with the other commandos on our
left and right. Seeing the inexpediency of this move, I went to the
General in command and expressed my objections to it. But General Kock
was firmly decided on the point, and said, "Go along, my boy." We
reached Elandslaagte at midnight; it was raining very heavily. After
scrambling for positions in the darkness, although I had already
sufficiently seen that the lie of the land suggested no strategic
operations, we retired to rest. Two days later occurred the fateful
battle.

CHAPTER IV.

DEFEATED AT ELANDSLAAGTE.

In the grey dawn of the 21st of October a number of scouts I had
despatched overnight in the direction of Ladysmith returned with the
tidings that "the khakis were coming." "Where are they, and how many
are there of them?" I asked. "Commandant," the chief scout replied, "I
don't know much about these things, but I should think that the
English number quite a thousand mounted men, and they have guns, and
they have already passed Modderspruit." To us amateur soldiers this
report was by no means reassuring, and I confess I hoped fervently
that the English might stay away for some little time longer.

It was at sunrise that the first shot I heard in this war was fired.
Presently the men we dreaded were visible on the ridges of hills south
of the little red railway station at Elandslaagte. Some of my men
hailed the coming fight with delight; others, more experienced in the
art of war, turned deadly pale. That is how the Boers felt in their
first battle. The awkward way in which many of my men sought cover,
demonstrated at once how inexperienced in warfare we youngsters were.
We started with our guns and tried a little