before. We waited six hours,
in expectation that "the hope which shone through them would blossom at
last." It was all in vain; the Boers--incorrigible humourists--would not
be serious, or draw close enough to be shot at. It was suggested that
the hooters told them a march was not to be stolen on us; hence so many
postponements of the "fall" of Kimberley. The sound, the weirdness of
the hooters in itself, would keep back a braver foe. We wanted them
silenced, however, and were beginning actually to desire a fight. All
the hardships of active service, _minus_ its real excitement, were ours;
and the cadets of the Town Guard--who cared not whether they lived to be
one-and-twenty--were dying to fire and definitely to learn from the
"kick" of a gun whether there was really "nothing like leather."

Other things contributed to the eventfulness of Saturday; the Boers
continued to display the same ominous energy, digging trenches, erecting
forts, and making themselves generally comfortable--pending our
submission to the inevitable like practical men. To emphasise the wisdom
of surrender on our part, it was freely stated that the town was to be
bombarded from Kamfers Dam. There was a feeling--it was in the air--that
mischief was brewing. In obedience to a sudden order, the women and
children of Otto's Kopje and the West End were hurried into the city for
better protection. Finally, a letter from the Boer Commandant was
received by the Colonel, the contents of which went far to justify the
feeling of anxiety which was abroad.

The Commandant was a Mr. Wessels--and a very courteous gentleman his
note proclaimed him. After some conventional preliminaries, he commenced
by suggesting how natural it would be if the Dutch families living in
Kimberley desired to betake themselves to more congenial surroundings.
The Colonel thought it would be natural. Mr. Wessels would take it as a
favour if said families were permitted to trek. Mr. Kekewich would
gladly grant the favour; but the people concerned could not take a
natural view of the matter at all; they decided to remain where they
were. Mr. Wessels next graciously proposed that _all_ women and
children, irrespective of race, should be expatriated. The Colonel was
still anxious to oblige, but the women, unfortunately, were not. They
scouted the proposition. Its impertinence had attractions, but they
declined to leave. It was _too_ ridiculous; living in a desert as they
were, with railway