As people passed me they cried out, “Take your spider, and leave your waggons and everything behind you.” I replied, “You go on.” And the children began to cry, and to say, “What is going to become of us? Everyone is hurrying on!”
“Let them go on,” I said. “All their women and children are prisoners; why should they trouble about us?” The people who had waggons abandoned them and hastened on. As my waggon stood by the way-side they kept on telling me that I must come too—that the troops were close at hand. At last there were my oxen coming over the rise. The children helped to catch all the oxen that we could get inspanned.
Then I saw a troop of horsemen riding up over the rise. I asked the people passing me who they were—if they were “khakis” or Boers?
“No,” they said; “they are Boers.”
“Good!” I cried, but I hurried my people all the same. As soon as we were ready the whips touched the oxen, and off we went at a good trot.
After we had driven on some little distance the yoke broke.
Then for the first time a good Samaritan passed us. Ada said to him, “Do help us so that we can get the ox yoked, and tell us where the English are.”
The young man got off his horse and helped us, and he said that the “khakis” were not so very near. We went on quickly, then presently we heard that there had been a terrible fight. Many of our men had been killed or wounded. Oh! what dreadful news for us! I went on. Towards evening we halted for a while. After having eaten we started off again, for we thought that the troops would be able to get through to Schweizer-Renecke, and that we should be straight in their path. Late at night we stopped to rest. Early next morning we went on again; then, as we heard that they were not coming any nearer, we halted in a place not very far from Schweizer-Renecke. As it was near the end of the week, we wanted to stay there over Sunday, and this we did. That Sunday I had a great many visitors.
I was astonished to see how many women and children were still out, and how well they looked, although they were wanderers. We talked about the peace that we were hoping for, though not for a peace that should impair our independence. It was very pleasant that evening to hear the sweet singing of the people as they sat near their waggons. The following morning we went to Piet De la Rey’s place, and as he was also with us we had made up our minds to stay there. But it did not come off, for we found we could get no water there. We went on a little farther, closer to Schweizer-Renecke.
My tent had just been pitched when Johannes De la Rey, the son of Piet De la Rey, suddenly appeared. He and his brother had both been wounded in the last battle.