Left Volksrust early to march on Wakkerstroom, news having come in that General Lyttelton was somewhat pressed and was unable to get on. Our march was uneventful, as we only passed the usual farms with white flags and batches of Dutch women—as mischievous as they pretend to be friendly. Bivouacking for one night we got to Wakkerstroom—a march of twenty-eight miles—on the 18th, bivouacking outside the usual style of town, very cold and gray looking, one or two tall buildings, and situated in a treeless valley at the foot of some high hills. Very cold and wet.
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