There was not much difficulty in keeping the enemy back, but still they
hung on persistently, worrying us day after day, until our horses, and
even the tougher mules, began to drop in the road, and our men to grow
weary of the saddle.
The oxen bore up best of all; we now made the discovery that they could
trot just as well as mules, and with less effort. But even they felt the
strain.
As far as we went the road we left behind us was littered with abandoned
animals. It was pitiful to see these dumb creatures try to drag
themselves after us, as if they too feared the pursuing foe. But still
the weary march went on, night and day, until a numbed indifference
settled over us.
Shells fell to the right and left unnoticed; was the apathy, not of
despair, for our faith would never let us feel that, but of sheer and
utter exhaustion.
Haggard men, sunk in slumber, beat a mechanical tattoo on their horses'
ribs as the gaunt animals dazedly staggered forward. And now came the
stunning news that Prinsloo, Prinsloo with 4,000 men, had surrendered!
Only one hope sustained us--the Magaliesberg. There we would find
shelter and rest.
But Clements was lying in wait for us there, waiting for us to walk
blindly into the trap he had set. Well was it for our straggling train
that Delarey came dashing down on Clements in the night, slaying and
capturing right and left, till the British general was glad to take
refuge in entrenched Pretoria! Else we were surely taken and the war
ended.
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