passed round the staff untouched
until it reached the less fastidious signallers. Five minutes at the
crystal brook was worth all the ministrations of Dutch milkmaids.

It then became necessary to seek for information. It was a barren
field of search. The surly men-folk of the sordid dwelling lounged out
and met all inquiry with studied insolence. Even the Tiger could make
no headway. He was met with recriminations. The Dutchmen recognised
him as a neighbour, and ill disguised their disapprobation of his
present circumstances. Information was at a deadlock, though in
reality there was little to be learned. The brigadier halted just
long enough to water the horses, and then it was forward again for the
last climb over Minie Kloof.

It was slow work. The scouting of an outcrop of mountain by cavalry is
always slow work, especially if that cavalry is under an officer who
will have the work done well. But like all things, good or bad, it
came to an end, and as the autumn sun grew vertical, the head of the
column passed down into another great plain which sinks northwards
into the Beer Vlei.

"Thank Providence the 'push' was not stuck up in that place," said the
brigadier as he halted to watch the waggons down the last incline. "If
old man De Wet is to be at Strydenburg to-night, with Britstown as his
objective, we should have had him here to-morrow morning. I have only
seen a worse country in the colony down Calvinia way. That was the
most deceptive playground that I was ever inveigled into. But it was
as deceptive to 'brother' as it was to us. Both sides lost themselves
about twice every half-hour. Hostile pickets and outposts constantly
rode into one another. I remember one night we had just settled down
in camp when in rode three Boers. They came up to the lines of one of
my scallywag corps with utmost unconcern--halted in all good faith
right up against the horse-lines. 'What commando is this?--is it Judge
Hertzog's?' A Natal corporal was the man nearest to them, and he was a
quick-witted fellow. He slipped back the 'cut off' of his rifle as he
answered, 'I guess not--but there is our commandant over there. You
had best go and ask him whose commando it is; but you must just hold
your hands above your head before you speak to him. He is a peculiar
man, our commandant!' The men surrendered to him without a murmur, and
seemed to think it was a good joke. But I daresay three months of a
Bellary sun in the Shiny has cause