9th September, 1901, and written the very day before his death.
We purposed to forward that letter, but the following day the bag was
retaken. Not only was it taken, but also the gun, while 20 burghers were
captured and one--Myburgh--was killed. We were again surprised.
Inconstant are the fortunes of war.

JAMES TOWN.

The villages in possession of the enemy were at length so thoroughly
fortified that it was well-nigh impossible to seize them without
sustaining great losses. Though they seemed impregnable, yet we were
sometimes compelled by sheer necessity to attack them. Beyond
expectation we now and again succeeded in inducing the garrison to
surrender. Such was the case at James Town, a village in the Eastern
Province of the Cape Colony.

Late one afternoon in the month of July, 1901, I set out to this village
to reconnoitre it in person. Unobserved, I reached the summit of a small
hill, about a mile from it. Through my field-glasses I carefully noted
the various forts, and there and then planned an attack. The next
morning I knew exactly what to do.

At 2 A.M. Commandant Myburgh, Commandant Loetter, and myself, with some
60 men, were in the saddle and on our way to James Town. What will be
the issue? Shall we succeed? Can we surprise the enemy? Such questions
we put to ourselves as we rode on in the darkness and silence of the
night to accomplish the work of destruction.

The spot we had in view was a kopje, situated to the north of the
village. Here the enemy's camp was located. As this kopje was the key to
the village, it was necessarily very strongly fortified. We knew that if
we could only occupy that hill, the rest would be easy work. Before dawn
we were close to the camp. A few minutes more and we shall grimly salute
our sleeping brethren. Silently we approach them. We are keenly on the
alert for the pickets, whom, least of all, we wished to disturb. Behold!
something in the darkness--what may that be? To be sure, two human
forms! Hush! they are slumbering. Noiselessly we draw nearer, reach
them, seize their rifles, and then--wake them. They are our first
prisoners; our way to the camp is open, safe and sure.

On we moved until stopped, not by a sentinel--it was much too cold that
night to expect an attack--but by a network of barbed wires, by which
the hill and camp were fenced in. Quickly the wires were cut. That done,
some of the burghers charged the tents, while the rest made for the
enemy's trenc