The Basutos in our war with them robbed our cattle, burnt our houses, and killed our men, but they left our women and children unmolested. It was reserved for the British Empire, at the height of its power, its civilisation, and its enlightenment to make war on women and children. And yet, it was astonishing to see that the poor women, in spite of all this, were not utterly discouraged. How admirable they were. Whatever may have been the feeling deep down in their hearts, suppressed and stifled there, outwardly they were full of courage, and even to some extent cheerful. One of them even baked dampers at midnight, when we halted to give the weary oxen a rest. That, however, we ought not to have allowed, for not only did it cause delay, but our fires showed the enemy where we were.
After waiting for two hours we went on again. We made considerable progress until we came near to the farm of Mr. Gert Oosthuizen. There a waggon got stuck in the mud. This caused delay, and after the waggon had been extricated, day quickly began to dawn. Again we proceeded, and shortly before sunrise we had reached Concordia, the farm of Mr. Abraham Strauss. Here we learned that the English were approaching from Steil Drift. The waggons immediately went south-westward in the direction of Reitz over a ridge, and fifty men mounted their horses and hurried away. I also left the laager and hastened as fast as the mules could drag the spider.
After driving some distance I looked round and saw that the English had gained the ridge which we had just crossed. Everywhere on the horizon the ground seemed covered with horsemen. It began to be plain that there could be no escape for me, but still the animals were urged to go on as hard as they could. I was nearly a mile away from the laager, which meanwhile had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and almost out of danger when some troops came up. They were indignant that I had not remained with the laager, and ordered me with curses and indescribably foul language to halt. I did so, and surrendered myself.
"Outspan them horses!" a soldier shouted to me [they were mules].
I refused.
"I am your prisoner, not your servant," I said.
That was foolish on my part, for I was completely in their power, as I also later on admitted to an officer, but I was unaccustomed to being addressed in this way by common soldiers. The rage of my captors now rose to a climax. Two of them stuck cartridges into their rifles and an officer levelled his revolver at me. I then thought that, there being no question of principle here, it would be senseless to allow myself to be shot for a matter of this sort, and began with my son to unharness the mules.
Had they struck me then I should have understood that it was done under provocation; but that I should be struck in cold blood shortly after is another matter.
Everything was quiet, and I was busy obeying the orders of the soldiers, when an officer of higher rank than the one who wanted to shoot me came up, and in learning that there had been a dispute, and that I had made some objections, he struck me from behind on my head with the metal head of his horse-whip. I have forgiven him. Probably also he is dead from the effects of a dangerous wound he received shortly after.
We had then to inspan again, and were ordered to go to a Kaffir kraal at Graspan, in the vicinity. Thither also the laager and forty-three captured burghers were brought.