ings, and always fight on the win, tie, or
wrangle principle; but in my case I rejoice I am not beholden to them,
and have not thus been disqualified from fighting.

All these things may provoke a smile of indifference, perhaps even of
triumph, after the danger is past; but during the days when I was lying
up in holes and corners, waiting for a good chance to board a train, the
causes that had led to them preyed more than I knew on my nerves. To be
an outcast, to be hunted, to lie under a warrant for arrest, to fear
every man, to have imprisonment--not necessarily military confinement
either--hanging overhead, to fly the light, to doubt the shadows--all
these things ate into my soul and have left an impression that will not
perhaps be easily effaced.

On the sixth day the chance I had patiently waited for came. I found a
convenient train duly labelled to Lourenco Marques standing in a siding.
I withdrew to a suitable spot for boarding it--for I dared not make the
attempt in the station--and, filling a bottle with water to drink on the
way, I prepared for the last stage of my journey.

The truck in which I ensconced myself was laden with great sacks of some
soft merchandise, and I found among them holes and crevices by means of
which I managed to work my way to the inmost recess. The hard floor was
littered with gritty coal dust, and made a most uncomfortable bed. The
heat was almost stifling. I was resolved, however, that nothing should
lure or compel me from my hiding-place until I reached Portuguese
territory. I expected the journey to take thirty-six hours; it dragged
out into two and a half days. I hardly dared sleep for fear of snoring.

I dreaded lest the trucks should be searched at Komati Poort, and my
anxiety as the train approached this neighbourhood was very great. To
prolong it we were shunted on to a siding for eighteen hours either at
Komati Poort or the station beyond it. Once indeed they began to search
my truck, and I heard the tarpaulin rustle as they pulled at it, but
luckily they did not search deep enough, so that, providentially
protected, I reached Delagoa Bay at last, and crawled forth from my
place of refuge and of punishment, weary, dirty, hungry, but free once
more.

Thereafter everything smiled. I found my way to the British Consul, Mr.
Ross, who at first mistook me for a fireman off one of the ships in the
harbour, but soon welcomed me with enthusiasm. I bought clothes, I
washed, I sat