s
purposely lost his unit, on the next. Even Kitchener's arrival can
work no cleansing of De Aar. It only adds to the confusion by
condensation of the chaos into a more restricted and less public area.

But our first needs are animal. Stumbling over prostrate forms,
cannoning against piles of heterogeneous gear, we make the buffet. A
flood of light, the buzz of voices, and the hum of myriads of
disturbed flies, and we live again. Filthy cloths, stained
senna-colour with the spilt food and drink of months, an atmosphere
reeking like a "fish-snack" shop, a dozen to twenty dishevelled and
dirty men of all ranks clamouring for food, two slovenly half-caste
wenches. That is all, yet this is life to the man off "trek." There is
even a fascination in an earthenware plate, though its surface shows
the marks of the greasy cloth and dirty fingers of the servitors.

A lieutenant-general and his staff have a table to themselves; we find
a corner at the main board, where the meaner sit. After food, news. De
Wet has invaded the Colony with 3000 men. He was fighting with Plumer
to-day at Philipstown. Then we begin to understand why we were
summoned to De Aar. The little horse-gunner major, who vouchsafed the
news, had just arrived with his battery from somewhere on the
Middelburg-Komati line. Five days on the train and his horses only
watered four times. That was nothing at this period of the war, when
the average mounted man was not blamed if he killed three horses in a
month. The major did not know his destination or what column he was to
join. Delightful uncertainty! All he knew was that his battery was
boxed up in a train outside the buffet, and that it would start for
somewhere in half an hour. It might be destined for Mafeking, or it
might be for Beaufort West; but he was ready to lay 2 to 1 that within
six weeks his battery would be on the high seas India bound. Wise were
the men who took up this bet, for the little major and his battery are
in South Africa to this day.

Food over, it was necessary once more to face the maze of De Aar
platform. It may seem strange, but when you are on duty bound, it is
easier, once the right platform is gained, to find the officials at
midnight than in the day. Under martial law few travellers have
lights; fewer are allowed, or have the desire, to burn them on the
platform. Consequently a light after midnight generally means an
official trying to overtake the work which has accumulated durin