Later Lieutenant BF gave the father Mr Brink and his two sons Piet and Gert permission to come to the camp to sell butter and eggs, which they did at exorbitant rates…

The three of them strolled about the camp, showing great interest in everything, asking most intelligent questions about the British forces and the general position of affairs and seemed really relieved to have a strong British post near. They did not even take offence when some of the rougher men called them “blarsted Dutchmen,” and refused to converse with them, or buy their “skoff”. About dusk they left, with many promises to return with a fresh supply on the morrow.

After writing out my orders for next day – one of which was for digging some trenches round the camp, an operation which I knew my men, as becomes good British soldiers, disliked very much, and regarded as fatigues – I saw the two guards mounted, one at the drift, and the other some little way down the river, each furnishing one sentry on the river bank.

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