The weather had
turned exceedingly wet and cold, like an English March or late autumn,
and after two days of inactivity in a damp and gloomy Dutch farmhouse we
were perforce obliged to return to our original starting-point, Zeerust.
A few days later we heard that Colonel Baden-Powell had occupied
Rustenburg, and that the country between there and Pretoria
was clear; so we decided to make a fresh start, and this time to take
the northern and more mountainous route. We drove through a very pretty
country, with many trees and groves of splendid oranges, and we crossed
highly cultivated valleys, with numerous farms dotted about. All those
we met described themselves as delighted at what they termed the close
of the war, and gave us a rough salutation as we went on our way, after
a friendly chat. Presently we passed an open trolley with a huge
red-cross flag flying, but which appeared to contain nothing but private
luggage, and was followed by a man, evidently a doctor, driving a
one-horse buggy, and wearing an enormous red-cross badge on his hat. At
midday we outspanned to rest the horses and eat our lunch, and in the
afternoon we crossed the great Marico River, where was situated a
deserted and ruined hotel and store. The road then became so bad that
the pace of our horses scarcely reached five miles an hour, and to
obtain shelter we had to reach Eland's River before it became quite
dark.
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