vengeance blood alone could quell."

On Friday a party of the enemy approached the reservoir, presumably to
see if there were water in it. But when our gunners metaphorically
advised them that there was danger of falling in, the party took the
hint and retired. Later on, the Boers advised us with numerous tokens of
their good-will. While this was being done a large force of the enemy
were massing at Alexandersfontein, as if they had finally decided to
take Kimberley without more ado. They deployed in battle array,
preparatory to sweeping all before them. The hooters had been relegated
to oblivion and already, swan-like, sung their sad, sweet song. Whether
the silence of these atrocious mimics induced the Boer to fancy that he
might surprise us, is not known. Certain it was that we did see him, and
were awaiting his coming with composure. It was a long wait. The mounted
men got tired sitting in their saddles, and were ordered out to query
the delay. They broke up into skirmishing parties and shook their fists
at the foe. But it was all to no purpose; the foe declined to be caught
with chaff, and decided "to fight another day."

The townspeople expected a sensational sequel to the affair and
assembled in thousands to greet the returning horsemen. Mr. Cecil
Rhodes, attired in duck pants, a slouch hat, and a necktie, happened to
be passing in a cart at the same moment, and to his profound disgust was
greeted with cheers. He raised his hat, however, and smiled, with a
sigh.

Saturday, contrary to expectation, was quiet. There was the capture of a
lot of cattle to avenge. A good haul had been made on the Friday
night--of fine corpulent cows, worth a deal of money, dealers said. They
were worth a deal of beef, and that was the feature about them of most