In this day's paper there were seventeen notices of horses lost--presumably stolen, but a close scrutiny of all horseflesh was in progress, and in the same column with the wails of the robbed was a notice of the recovery of twenty-one horses--none of them being the same as any of the lost that were advertised for. The Provost-Marshal, Major R. M. Poore, on this day announced that every native with a horse must carry a certificate proving that the animal was his own. He also declared that every person possessing any property of the Orange Free State Government--horses, mules, oxen, or anything else--must quickly hand it up.
Lord Roberts reviewed the Naval Brigade on the preceding day, and we had a report of it showing how splendidly Captain Bearcroft's command appeared. The late Admiral Maxse, out there on a visit, witnessed the review, and said that it was the first one he had attended since the Crimea, when he acted as naval A.D.C. to Lord Raglan. This review gave us all one of our rare chances of seeing Lord Roberts, for he went out but little, and even at such times hurried directly to his destination, returning with as little loss of time. Every man, of every rank, saluted him, and he was scrupulously careful to return the salute even of the bugler boys. It was said to be surprising to note how many men he knew of all ranks, and how watchful and observant he was. "You managed that very cleverly," he would say to a man in conflict with unruly horses; or he would reprove a soldier for untidiness in dress. Nothing escaped his restless eyes.
He wore no decorations of any kind, and I have even heard it said that not every coat of his was decked with gilt buttons--though this I repeat only upon hearsay. I can testify, however, that no man more modest and making less of his rank was in his army. I always saw him in plain khaki with that badge of mourning upon one sleeve which gave us all a keener thrust in our emotions than even the hardest felt losses of comrades and acquaintances which befell us all so frequently.
(_Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force._)
To-day we expect to welcome here in our camp the great poet and writer, who has contributed more than any one perhaps towards the consolidation of the British Empire. His visit is singularly appropriate. He will find encamped round the town not only his friend Tommy Atkins, but the Australian, the Canadian, the New Zealander, the Tasmanian, the volunteer from Ceylon, from Argentine, and from every quarter of the globe. He will see the man of the soil--the South African Britisher--side by side with his fellow colonist from over the seas. In fact, Bloemfontein will present to him the actual physical fulfilment of what must be one of his dearest hopes--the close union of the various parts of the greatest Empire in the world. His visit, therefore, will have in it something of the triumph of a conqueror--a conqueror who, with the force of genius, has swept away barriers of distance and boundary, and made a fifth of the globe British, not only in title, but in real sentiment.