nd ended when we lay down to
snatch a little rest at daybreak on Thursday. Many miles were travelled,
a great enterprise was brought to a successful issue, a tough battle was
fought, men received wounds and died, Mafeking was relieved: enough
incident and adventure to fill months of ordinary life. The bare events
are recorded here, but the emotional history of those twenty-four hours
will probably never be written. But as you read the narrative, put
yourself in the place of those to whom it was not a story but a piece of
life, and then perhaps you will realise something of what it meant to
them.

Not much of the story remains to be told.

At midnight between Wednesday and Thursday I was awakened by a general
stir in the surrounding camp, to find that the moon was shining
brightly, lighting up busy drivers, and the troops getting their horses
ready. We were to advance. Major Karri-Davies had ridden on into
Mafeking, and, with the luck which rewards daring, had found the road
clear, and sent back a messenger with that information to Colonel Mahon.
I think men were never so willingly awakened from sleep; not even the
wounded grumbled, who had also to be roused from their beds on the grass
and repacked into the stuffy ambulance. At about 12.30 we were ready to
start, but during the first mile there were long halts and delays while
the guides argued and boggled about the roads. At last the strain became
too great, and Major Gifford, Captain Smith, and I resolved to ride on
and trust to finding the right road. We knew the direction by the stars,
and started across the veldt a little south of east.

It was bitterly cold, and we were all both sleepy and hungry, but there
was an excitement in the air that kept us easily going. After about half
an hour we heard voices ahead, and descried the shapes of horses and
men. Our hearts sank for a moment, only to rise again when we recognised
Colonel Peakman, who, having been in command of the rear-guard on the
previous day up till nine o'clock at night, was now taking his turn at
advance guard at one o'clock the next morning. As a Kimberley man, it
had long been his ambition to lead the relieving force into Mafeking,
and I think no one grudged him the honour. Amongst all, indeed, there
was a certain amount of competition, and the four correspondents who
survived to the end of the expedition became strangely silent about
their intentions for the evening. I pinned my faith to Peakman, as