I mean the officers.

The chief's leg's pretty nearly right again, and he was saying at mess only yesterday that it was a most unnatural state of affairs for British officers to be forced by a set of low-bred Dutch Boers, no better than farm-labourers, to eat their beef without either mustard, horse-radish, or salt." "Horrible state of destitution," I said quietly.
"None of your sneers, Farmer Val," he cried.

"He's right, and I'm getting sick of it myself.

He says it is such an ignoble position for a mounted corps to suffer themselves to be shut up here, and not to make another dash for freedom." "Well, I shall be glad if we make another attempt to get through their lines," I said thoughtfully.
"That's what the Major said, when, hang me! if the chief didn't turn suddenly round like a weathercock, and say that what we were doing was quite right, because we held this great force of Boers occupied so that the General might carry out his plans without being harassed by so large a body of men." "That's right enough," I said.
"Don't you get blowing hot and cold," cried Denham, with impatience.
"Then some one else sided with the Colonel.

It was the doctor, I think.
He said the General must know when, where, and how we were situated, and that sooner or later he would attack the Boers, rout them, and set us at liberty." "That sounds wise," I hazarded.
"No, it doesn't," said my companion; "because we shouldn't want setting at liberty then.