I heard burghers muttering:—
"Suppose the enemy should aim those guns at us—what will become of us then? Nobody can get out of the road here!"
I told them that this could only be done if the English had a Howitzer. But I did not add that this was a sort of gun which the columns now pursuing me were likely enough to possess.
But nothing happened. The English neither shot at us, nor did they pursue us. Corporal Matthijsen would have said that they were more cautious than Pharaoh.
We now reached the top of the mountain—entirely exhausted. I have ascended many a mountain—the rough cliffs of Majuba, the steep sides of Nicholson's Nek—but never before had I been so tired as I was now; yet in the depths of my heart I was satisfied. All our toil was repaid by the glorious panorama that now stretched out before us to the south. We saw the undulating veldt between the Magaliesbergen where we stood, and the Witwatersrand. Through a ravine we had a view extending for many miles, but wherever we cast our eyes there was no sign of anything that resembled the enemy.
As it was now too late to off-saddle, we began, after having taken a little rest, to descend the mountain on the other side, my object being to reach a farm where I hoped to get some sheep or oxen for my men, who not only were tired out, but nearly famished.
We went down the mountain—well, somewhat quicker than we had climbed it; however, we could not go very fast, as the incline was steep. In an hour and a half we reached a Boer farm.
One can imagine how the burghers recovered their spirits as they ate their supper, and what it meant for them to give their tired limbs a rest.
The following morning we found good horse-provender, and plenty of it. It was not as yet the habit of the English to burn everything they came across—they had not yet begun to carry out that policy of destruction.
I now felt quite easy about the safety of our camp. The attention of the English would be turned in quite another direction.