I had intended to march that night to the west of Hopetown.

But now if I went in that direction I should only run straight on to this army.

If we went to the left we could only advance 2,000 paces before being visible to the English on the kop close to Hopetown, from where they could make known our movements by heliograph.
At our front, at our back, on our left, the outlook was hopeless; and to the right lay the cruel river.

Stand still we could not--the enemy were upon us--it was impossible that anything could save us--no, not impossible--a rescue was at hand.
The sun was just going down, and by the time we could be seen from Hopetown, night would have covered us with its sheltering wings.
We should then be able to execute a flank movement, and make a detour round the enemy who were before us.

But now I knew that we must be prepared to march nearly the whole night through, in order that we might be able, early on the following morning, to cross the railway lines.