I happened to have a map with me,
and so was able to supply the desired information. He then told me to
take a couple of heliographists and try to get into communication with
one of the Transvaal commandoes near Potchefstroom.
We climbed one of the numerous hills lying around and called up towards
Potchefstroom, but got no reply. As we sat chatting, keeping our eyes
fixed on the dark ridges in the distance, one of my companions
remarked--
"This reminds me of a fine trick I played on the English a few months
ago. We were trekking along quietly one day when I observed a heliograph
glitter on a hill about ten miles away. I at once fixed my instrument,
and soon learnt that it was a British helio post. I sent him a heliogram
saying that we were a small party of British in danger of capture, and
asking that an escort should be sent to bring us in. The next day the
escort walked into our arms! We took the rifles and let the prisoners
go--about a hundred men. The next day the British heliographist called
me up again and reproached me for telling him such a deliberate lie!"
"And what did you reply?"
"Oh, I said, 'g.t.l.'; you know what that means!"
Espying a pretty little cottage in the valley below, I rode thither to
try and buy a loaf of bread, leaving the others to continue calling. On
the way down I noticed a telegraph wire running in the direction of
Potchefstroom.
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