immediate interest. We had had no news from anywhere for a long while;
despatch riders, we conjectured, must have fallen at or into the hands
of the enemy. No matter; the British Army, colloquially speaking, knew
its way about. Thus when the shades of night were falling, the general
disposition was one of willingness to wait. The food, to be sure,
lacked something of its wonted excellence; but it served (in the
summer), and we did not grumble. The shelling, too, had fallen somewhat
flat. Mafeking was more out of the way and in a worse plight than
Kimberley. Reflections of this kind begot condescension and a noble
willingness to wait.




CHAPTER VI

_Week ending 25th November, 1899_


The commandeering of cattle was an industry now well established. It was
a pleasing spectacle, on Sunday morning, to behold the results of the
preceding night's operations as they were driven through the streets,
and to witness the unconcern with which the languid quadrupeds suffered
the loss of their independence. Nor was the calm indifference with which
their drovers received the compliments shouted at them by passing
Imperialists one whit less admirable. The sight of the enemy's preserves
excited a degree of interest which might be equalled--not surpassed--by
the phenomenon (in pre-war days) of a procession of white elephants. And
in the general chorus of favourable criticism--favourable because they
were cheap, probably, if not exactly "gift" animals--nobody looked the