ut the
thought of the ill-treatment of those dear to us, on whose happiness our
own happiness depends, was constantly with us, and to that we did not
become hardened.

It is impossible to enter into the sufferings of the married men. Much
was suffered in silence. Some men got messages from their wives
imprisoned in refugee camps, bidding them surrender for the sake of
their wives, since fighting was of no avail and the country was already
lost. Who shall blame the man who rides away with an anxious heart to
his wife and children, no matter what the consequences may be to
himself? Another woman, with a different disposition and a different
heart, sends word secretly to her husband that life in the prison camp
is endurable, and that he must fight to the end. Then he stays, and
proves himself worthy of the courage of his wife.

Some men gave the impression that they were indifferent to the suffering
of wife and child. These were the scum of our people, who in time of
peace were not of much importance, but were necessary for our fight. But
the majority, by far the greater majority, were men who, even in the
most troubled times, were faithful to the comrades with whom they began
this struggle, the struggle for our independence.

Whenever we came to a 'uitspanplek' (a place where there is water to be
found for the horses), some of us had to seek hurriedly for wood to make
the fire, others to fetch water, and others to help in various ways. It
was a regular struggle for existence. Those who came first got the least
disagreeable work. Wood was scarce on the Hoogeveld where we happened to
be, and the water was muddied by the first water-carriers. When the sun
was very warm we made a shelter with our guns and our blankets. Our
meals were simple. They consisted of meat and 'mealie-pap' morning,
noon, and night, often for weeks without salt. We made coffee of burnt
grain ground in a coffee-mill. During the war we learnt to drink all
sorts of coffee--of wheat, oats, barley, sweet potatoes, maize, and even
of peaches. We became so accustomed to a simple mode of life that our
wants were few indeed. Even sugar we no longer missed. And we remained
healthy and strong.

We lay in small groups round the fires, leaning against our saddles. Our
moods were brighter after our tired bodies had had the needful
refreshment and rest. The groups were often picturesque, some of us
lying at our ease with soiled books in hands, others grouped roun