GRANITE MONOLITH AT “LANGKLEP.”

Afterwards the scene of a fight with Maritz.

WATER-PITS IN THE DRY MOLOPO AT NAKOB.

Where Maritz broke into rebellion.

They could not be caught, but their constant inquiry was as to when the “troops” would arrive, though on this point they could have got scant information, for we were as ignorant and anxious as themselves! From a few legitimate stragglers who succeeded in evading the German police and getting over, we heard of the movements of troops, and it seemed fairly certain that the border police had been withdrawn from German Nakob, and that an officer, with twenty-five men and a machine-gun, had taken their place. The constant rumours of an impending attack made it impossible to keep the “boys” at their work, and as no news came of reinforcements, I had at length no alternative but to abandon the work and clear out.

On the morning of Saturday, August 15th, I washed my last load, dismantled the windlasses, and brought the light tools and gear down from the mine. As I went up to take a last look round, two of the troopers rode up from the post, and I took them to the international beacon on the edge of the escarpment, near where I had been working, and pointed out to them the whole line of these infrequent boundary-posts through the wild, solitary, pathless country south, towards my old prospecting-ground in the Noup Hills, near the Orange. They were new men, and did not know where the actual boundary lay in that direction. The day was scorching-hot and clear, and I was able to pick out many of the actual cairns, but on the whole vast expanse not a solitary soul could be seen on either territory. We had hoped to locate the German patrols, but unfortunately their post at Nakob was hidden by low ranges, as it lay in a sand-river below the general level of the country, though its position was easily identified by a prominent and abrupt granite kopje which stood in close proximity to it, but on British territory—the international beacons being plainly visible slightly to the westward of its base.

This bold hill was indeed the most striking landmark for many miles, and though I had never climbed it, I had passed its base often on either side, and believed that it must command a view of the German police post. I therefore suggested that we should make our way there that afternoon, when we could not only find out the strength of the Germans at the post, but possibly get some photos of them.

The troopers agreed, and later I rode down to the camp with them, left my horse there, and as none of them would accompany me I went on alone, promising to flash a signal to them when I got on top. Naturally I had nothing to fear, for I had no intention of going into German territory or of letting the Germans see me, and I took care to leave my arms at the camp, so that, should their patrols catch me, I had nothing more incriminating than a camera, and a little shaving-mirror to signal with.

I had about two miles to go, making a slight detour to keep in cover of the thick melk-bosch, and aiming at keeping the hill between me and the Germans. I again noted the beacons; there was no doubt as to the whole hill being in our territory.