pped boldly out into the garden and,
passing the open windows of the house, walked down the gravel path to
the street. Not five yards from the gate stood a sentry. Most of those
guarding the school-house knew him by sight, but Churchill did not turn
his head, and whether the sentry recognized him or not, he could not
tell.

For a hundred feet he walked as though on ice, inwardly shrinking as he
waited for the sharp challenge, and the rattle of the Mauser thrown to
the "Ready." His nerves were leaping, his heart in his throat, his spine
of water. And then, as he continued to advance, and still no tumult
pursued him, he quickened his pace and turned into one of the main
streets of Pretoria. The sidewalks were crowded with burghers, but no
one noticed him. This was due probably to the fact that the Boers wore
no distinctive uniform, and that with them in their commandoes were many
English Colonials who wore khaki riding breeches, and many Americans,
French, Germans, and Russians, in every fashion of semi-uniform.

If observed, Churchill was mistaken for one of these, and the very
openness of his movements saved him from suspicion.

Straight through the town he walked until he reached the suburbs, the
open veldt, and a railroad track. As he had no map or compass he knew
this must be his only guide, but he knew also that two railroads left
Pretoria, the one along which he had been captured, to Pietermaritzburg,
and the other, the one leading to the coast and freedom. Which of the
two this one was he had no idea, but he took his chance, and a hundred
yards beyond a station waited for the first outgoing train. About
midnight, a freight stopped at the station, and after it had left it and
before it had again gathered headway, Churchill swung himself up upon
it, and stretched out upon a pile of coal. Throughout the night the
train continued steadily toward the east, and so told him that it was
the one he wanted, and that he was on his way to the neutral territory
of Portugal.

Fearing the daylight, just before the sun rose, as the train was pulling
up a steep grade, he leaped off into some bushes. All that day he lay
hidden, and the next night he walked. He made but little headway. As all
stations and bridges were guarded, he had to make long detours, and the
tropical moonlight prevented him from crossing in the open. In this way,
sleeping by day, walking by night, begging food from the Kaffirs, five
days passed.

Meanwhil