The concealment was perfect; no specially constructed
trenches could have served the purposes of the Boers more advantageously.
Dawn lighted the flat-topped kopjes that lay in a huge semicircle in the
distance, and men clambered up the sides of the spruit to ascertain the
camp of the enemy. The white smoke-stack of the Bloemfontein waterworks
appeared against the black background of the hills in the east, but it was
still too dark to distinguish objects on the ground beneath it. A group of
burghers in the spruit, absent-mindedly, began to sing a deep-toned psalm,
but the stern order of a commandant quickly ended their matutinal song. A
donkey in an ammunition waggon brayed vociferously, and a dozen men,
fearful lest the enemy should hear the noise, sprang upon him with clubs
and whips, and even attempted to close his mouth by force of hands. It was
the fateful moment before the battle, and men acted strangely. Some walked
nervously up and down, others dropped on their knees and prayed, a few
lighted their pipes, many sat on the ground and looked vacantly into
space, while some of the younger burghers joked and laughed.
At the drift stood the generals, scanning the hills and undulations with
their glasses. Small fires appeared in the east near the tall white stack.
"They are preparing their breakfast," some one suggested. "I see a few
tents," another one reported excitedly. All eyes were turned in the
direction indicated.
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