Towards evening the enemy were in possession of General Grobler's position, and were passing over the Gatsrand, leaving us behind. I ordered my commando to fall back on Klipriversberg, while I rode away with some adjutants to attempt to put myself in communication with the other commandos.

The night was dark and cloudy, which rendered it somewhat difficult for us to move about in safety. We occasionally fell into ditches and trenches, and had much trouble with barbed wire. However, we finally fell in with General Lemmer's rearguard, who informed us that the enemy, after having overcome the feeble resistance of General Grobler, had proceeded north, and all the burghers were retreating in haste before them.

We rode on past the enemy to find General Grobler and what his plans were. We rode quite close to the English camp, as we knew that they seldom posted sentries far from their tents. On this occasion, however, they had placed a guard in an old "klipkraal," for them a prodigious distance from their camp, and a "Tommy" hailed us from the darkness.—

"Halt, who goes there?"

I replied "Friend," whereupon the guileless soldier answered:

"Pass, friend, all's well."

I had my doubts, however. He might be a Boer outpost anxious to ascertain if we were Englishmen. Afraid to ride into ambush of my own men, I called out in Dutch:

"Whose men are you?"

The Tommy lost his temper at being kept awake so long and retorted testily, "I can't understand your beastly Dutch; come here and be recognized." But we did not wait for identification, and I rode off shouting back "Thanks, my compliments to General French, and tell him that his outposts are asleep."

This was too much for the "Tommy" and his friends, who answered with a volley of rifle fire, which was taken up by the whole line of British outposts. No harm was done, however, and we soon rode out of range. I gave up looking for General Grobler, and on the following morning rejoined my men at Klipriversberg.