sympathy of the kindly
Portuguese, is lulled into harmony with the surrounding scenes of peace
and beauty. Only the thought of our ravaged country, struggling still
for dear life, though forced upon her knees, brings back the claims of
duty and the yearning to be up and doing, to enter once more the ranks
of the foemen and strike another blow for liberty.

Hopeless! Yet where is the Boer--prisoner, exile, or renegade--even
he!--who does not dream by nights he feels once more the free veld air
upon his brow, lives again the wild night rides beneath twinkling stars?
He feels once more his noble steed bound beneath him, grips again his
comrade's welcoming hand, and wakens with a bitter sigh.

Some consolation, then, to recall blows already struck, and duty fairly
done.

THE ELEVENTH OF OCTOBER

When war appeared inevitable the spirit of the Boers rose to support
them in their hour of trial, and only sentiments of patriotism and
defiance were felt and expressed. Joy at the opportunity of proving once
and for ever their ability to defend themselves and consequent right to
independence, regret for friendships about to be severed--these were the
chief emotions of the younger generation. The elder thought of past
wrongs, long cherished, and silently took down the rifle from behind the
door.

The women, ever strong in national spirit, lent the aid of their
encouragements and prayers. Sons wept that they were too young to
accompany their fathers on commando.

Yet there came a moment when for the space of a minute a mighty shadow
seemed to brood over the land, and the cold chill of coming evil struck
the nation as if from the clouds. A message had been despatched from
Pretoria to every corner of the country. One word only: War!

The blow had fallen. Nothing could avert a sanguinary struggle. Well the
burghers knew the overwhelming strength of the foe, but they went
blithely forth to meet their fate, strong in a sincere confidence in
Providence. If the worst came to the worst, well, "'twere better to have
fought and lost, than never to have fought at all!"

Of all the branches of the Transvaal Civil Service there was not one
that stood higher in the public estimation at that moment, nor one that
distinguished itself more during the war, than that to which I had the
honour to belong--the Department of Telegraphs. Equipped with the most
up-to-date instruments, composed almost equally of picked men from
England and H