the foot of the Magaliesberg, only sixteen miles ahead. So on we went
into the sheer and bitter night, more like ghostly shadows than
anything else, as the spectral column wound its way through sleeping
villages and over mile after mile of dark and silent veld. At last our
eyes were gladdened by the sight of twinkling watch-fires on the
slopes of some hills just ahead, and as the first signs of dawn began
to become manifest, we sank wearily down to enjoy a few minutes'
repose. But it was broad daylight when we woke, and alas! for all the
hopes of the past eight days, the hills ahead were only occupied by
our cavalry. Theirs had been the watch-fires of the dark hours of the
night. The game was up, and we were told the first great De Wet hunt
was over. Some one had failed to stop the earth; the fox had foiled
his pursuers, and the various Generals reluctantly whipped off their
hounds.

It was a bitter disappointment. We had been so buoyed up by the
promises held out to us. Every one had so thoroughly entered into the
job, and plodded stolidly along; and all for nothing. Work which, if
successful, would have lived in history, but which, being
unsuccessful, was fated to be forgotten and ignored; and unsuccessful
through no fault of any of the troops engaged in it. There was no
General or Staff to blame: no regiment or department which could be
hauled over the coals. No; some one had blundered, that was all. The
point has never been exactly cleared up, and probably never will be,
and there the matter ended.

'Lay not your blame on me: if you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.'--_Othello._

So we turned over and fell asleep again, and woke up at 9 a.m. and had
some breakfast, and were about to fall asleep again when the word came
to fall in and march on to some other bivouac. The one we were in was
good enough for us, but of course there was nothing for it but to
obey, and we marched to a small village called Rietfontein. Here we
heard that Colonel Hore's column was surrounded, and in a bad way,
some eighty miles off, and that we were to form part of a small force,
and make a forced march to his relief.

Accordingly the column marched at 8 a.m. next morning. After going
about two miles, an order arrived saying we were to go back; and back
we went--a somewhat profitless proceeding, but doubtless unavoidable.
The remainder of the day was spent resting, but it was known that
reveille was to sound at midnight, an