spot.

The Boers continued to ride roughshod over the land, commandeering oxen
and cattle, putting up to public auction such Government properties as
they had seized at the different railway-stations, and employing
hundreds of Kaffirs to tear up the railway-line. Our enemies were
perfectly secure in the knowledge that no help could come for months,
and the greater number believed it would never come at all, and that the
"Roineks" were being cut to pieces in the South. They openly stated
there would be no more railway traffic, but that in future trade and
transit would be carried on by transport riding--_i.e._, by ox-waggon,
their favourite amusement and occupation. In the meantime the cry of the
loyal colonists went up from all sides: "How much longer can it last?"

After a few days Mr. P. duly returned from Mafeking, having had a risky
but successful trip in and out of the town. He reported it all well, and
that the inhabitants were leading a mole existence, owing to the
constant shelling. The Boers evidently preferred dropping in shells at a
safe distance to risking their lives by a storming attack. With great
pride Mr. P. showed me a basket of carrier pigeons, by which he assured
me I could now communicate swiftly and safely with the garrison. He was
even kind enough to send off one at once on a trial trip, with a short
note signed with his name, informing Colonel Baden-Powell that I was at
Setlagoli, and that I would be able to forward any letters or
information they might wish to send. I had never had any experience of
such birds, and was delighted to think how much quicker they would
travel than old Boaz. When the pigeon was released, however, I must
confess it was rather disturbing to note that it did not seem at all
sure of the direction it should take, circling round at least twenty
times in the air. However, Mr. P. assured me this was their usual habit,
and that this particular bird knew its business, having taken several
prizes; so, as it eventually disappeared, I thought no more about it.
The next day Mr. P. left for Cape Town, and passed out of our ken, but
we were soon to be reminded of him in an unpleasant fashion.

On going into the dining-room to lunch one day, I saw little Mr.----, a
kinsman of Mrs. Fraser's, and particularly short of stature, with an axe
in hand, in the act of taking up the boards in a corner of the room,
revealing as he did so a sort of shallow cellar, with no light or
ventilation