ds
better than anything written from memory after many years could have
done.

While the Captain slept Hansie made her notes, and when he woke she
was with him again for further news.

Her thirst for information was insatiable.

"I have been longing to ask you, Captain, where you got your English
uniform," Hansie said as they sat down in the dining-room with the
great bowls of scarlet strawberries before them. "Tell us everything
while we remove these stems."

"You have heard of the terrible battle we had at Bakenlaagte--when
Colonel Benson fell, mortally wounded? I was there."

"Were you?" they exclaimed in breathless surprise.

"Yes, and the uniform lying buried under your floor I myself took from
the dead body of Colonel Thorold after the battle."

By degrees a full description was given of that great British reverse
on the High Veld and what took place after.

When the battle was over and Colonel Benson lay mortally wounded,
surrounded by doctors and officers in high authority, Naude advanced,
and asked to be allowed to take his papers. The men protested, but
Naude ordered them all aside and gently removed every paper from his
pockets. He had no important documents with him and the private papers
were of course returned to the men in charge of the dying officer.

He expired soon afterwards and was mourned by the Boers as well as the
English, for he was admired and respected by all for his courage and
daring, and his fame as an honourable foe had spread throughout the
Boer lines.

Many of them were heard to say that they had only meant to catch him
and that they bitterly regretted his death.

It was one of the worst battles, under General Botha, Naude had ever
been in. About twelve Boers were killed instantly, and three wounded
to death.

With the storming of the cannon, Boers and English were so close
together that the one could hear what the other said, and Naude's
corporal, Venter, saw a poor soldier fall back mortally wounded,
gasping out with his dying breath, "Oh, dear mother!"

God of pity! who will tell that bereaved parent that her son's last
thoughts and words were for her alone?

It was terrible to hear the wounded and dying praying and calling to
their God for help. Nationality, language, enmity, and bitter hatred
were forgotten as side by side those mortal foes prepared to meet
their God--_one God!_

Imploring one another for help, praying for one drop of water to
alleviate their dyi