A RIDE FOE DEAR LIFE. 3 



enter the camp, and are taken to the commandant's 

 marquee. As the sun sinks a strong guard is mounted, 

 and the sentries are all doubled ; for it is war time, and 

 no precaution is omitted. 



The mess bugle sounds, and the men gather in groups 

 of eight for their meal. A strange crowd English, 

 Scotch, Irish, German and Afrikander, the last being 

 invaluable as a frontiersman for his good shooting and 

 horsemanship, and for his quick eye, knowledge of 

 country, and cool self-reliance. 



Amongst them are all sorts and conditions of men 

 public schoolmen, university M.A.'s, and gentlemen 

 emigrants, mixed with farmers, traders, and gold-diggers; 

 but the utmost good feeling prevails, and many a jest 

 and yarn elicit repeated roars of laughter. It is as well 

 under these circumstances to be on good terms with the 

 quartermaster, for somehow or other after the nightly 

 issue of grog ration there is always a surplus in hand, 

 which, of course, it would be a sin to either throw away 

 or to present to the Government ; so taking my pipe and 

 my tin pannikin, I stroll off to pay my respects to that 

 worthy. 



" I say, quartermaster, who were those two natives 

 who came in this evening? " 



" Can't say they were friendly natives I fancy they 

 have been spying. I know the commandant is in touch 

 with a lot of friendly natives, who keep their eyes 

 skinned and bring him information. That issuer is a 

 wonderful man ; he always brings me a balance over of 

 just one quart of commissariat rum every night after 

 issuing ; excellent man, but I won't recommend him for 

 promotion, for he is so admirably suited to his present 

 position and to me. Let's play poker. Hullo, there's 



