The Boer guns continued to sing inexplicably dumb; Wednesday was dull.
The ladies, who had been pretty free in their criticisms of the Boers,
were saying hard things of people nearer home. They had a grievance
against the butcher and his manipulation of the meat. The clamour at the
shambles of the butcher despot was growing in volume. Hungry masses
crowded the shops, and that some should emerge meatless from the melee
was inevitable. Nepotism was reputed to be much in vogue. The Colonel
had curbed the meat vendors in the matter of price; a strictly limited
number of oxen were slaughtered daily, but the number was sufficient to
provide everyone with his or her half-pound of flesh. This arrangement,
however, was to some extent rendered nugatory by cute people who had
what was pithily termed "a leg" of the butcher. Thus a "friend," or a
monied acquaintance, could get as much meat as he could eat (a good
deal!)--which amounted to the legitimate share of perhaps half a dozen
starving creatures who had cash in the bank! In practice the system of
distribution did not work well; the State interference was no doubt a
blessing; but it was a mixed blessing.

On Thursday a mounted force re-visited Carter's Farm to entice the Boers
into battle. In pursuance of this purpose some shells were expended; but
the Boers disregarded the challenge. The rumour-monger, who had an
explanation for everything, interpreted their silence to mean that the
guns had been requisitioned to oppose the advance of Methuen, who did
not seem to be making great headway. One of the sights of Thursday was a
_khaki_ horse! We were in this connection accustomed to such diversity
of shades as black, grey, white, and brown; but a painted quadruped had
never before been seen in Kimberley. The authorities were responsible
for the painter's assault on the lily. It would appear that a high
percentage of white and grey horses had been shot in the several