I was at once informed of this, but as I was expecting Pretorius from that direction, I merely said: "It is sure to be Captain Pretorius." "No; this is an _English_ commando." English or Australian--it made very little matter--they were enemies.
I had no need to give the order to off-saddle, the burghers did it at once of their own accord.

But before we were ready for him, the enemy opened fire on us from the very ridge on which our outpost had been stationed.
Off went the burghers, and I made no effort to stop them, for the spot where we were did not command a good view of the surrounding country, and I already had my eye on some ridges, about half an hour's ride away.
There we should be able to reconnoitre, especially towards Dewetsdorp, whence I expected the enemy at any moment.

During the retreat Veldtcornet de Wet was severely wounded.

Moreover, some of our horses had to be left behind, being too exhausted to go any further.
We marched on towards Bethulie.

When in the neighbourhood of this town, and of the farm of "Klein Bloemfontein," I fell in with General Piet Fourie and Captain Scheepers, and took them with me.