on commando by dietlof van warmelo with a portrait methuen & co. essex street w.c. london colonial library [illustration: dietlof van warmelo] preface this book was written in , while its author was a prisoner at ahmednagar. it was written in dutch, and has been put into english by a young lady from what was the orange free state. the author is a friend and relation of mine, son of a clergyman in the transvaal, and of old afrikander stock on both sides. his book is the more valuable because of the absence of all literary pretensions, and it may be taken as truly representative of the afrikander spirit, which has been so much misconceived in england. frederik van eeden walden, n. holland, _july_, contents chapter foreword i. at the boundary--entrance into natal--dundee--ladysmith ii. siege of ladysmith--battle of the rooirandjes--blowing up of the cannon iii. the eight-day battle of the tugela--talk of intervention--relief of ladysmith iv. dewetsdrift--return to, and flight from, pretoria v. trek from middelburg to rustenburg--battle of selikatsnek vi. guerilla life on the magalies mountains--narrow escape of president steyn and general de wet vii. with president steyn to president kruger viii. with president steyn in the boschveld--lost ix. practical hints--adventure on the sabie--north of lydenburg x. from roossenekal to pietersburg--with general beyers to the magalies mountains xi. battle of nooitgedacht xii. paardekraal day--battle in the moat--attack on kaalfontein station xiii. commando sufferings xiv. battle of boesmanskop--flight of women xv. battle of chrissiesmeer--reunion with general beyers xvi. camped near tafelkop conclusion: battle of stompies--in the hands of the enemy my life on commando foreword could i have known that the war would last so long, i might from the beginning have taken notes. they would have brought back memories in a way pleasant to me now, and perhaps also to those who have asked me to write down my adventures. often it occurred to me to keep a diary, but i was obliged to give up the idea because my clothes were sometimes so thoroughly drenched that the letters in my pocket were not readable. later on, when clothes were scarce and pockets past mending, i often made the unpleasant discovery that caused the fool, on his journey from the land of kokanje, to cry to the king: 'we have ridden at such a breakneck pace, see, everything has slipped through this little hole!' now i am obliged to write down my adventures without any notes, so dates, numbers, and names of places will occasionally be missing. it stands to reason that i--being an exile in a strange country, in the fort of ... in ..., cut off from the world outside and without any official reports--should simply limit myself to my own personal experience. and, lastly, i must apologize to my readers for so often speaking of myself and my friends; but that is inevitable in this tale. i shall pass rapidly over the first part of my life on commando. if my memory plays me false--which is not very probable, as i still have a lively recollection of the events--i shall be grateful for correction. _july_, . i at the boundary--entrance into natal--dundee--ladysmith when that part of the pretoria town commando to which my brother frits and i belonged left for the natal boundary on september , , we were all very enthusiastic, as could be seen from the nice new suits, the new shining guns, and the sleek horses. many ladies had come to the station to see us off, and we were proud of having the opportunity to fight for our country. our departure seemed then to us a great occasion, we were inexperienced in war. we had not yet learnt that one could pass unscathed through many a fierce battle. we knew nothing of 'retreating' and we knew all about the enemy with whom we were to come in contact. we imagined that several sharp engagements would take place--that these would be decisive battles in which many of our men would be killed, and therefore the parting with relatives and friends was sad indeed. our field-cornet, melt marais, had told us that we had nothing to see to except provisions for a day or two, as government would supply us with all necessaries at zandspruit, where the commandos were to concentrate; so many of us took neither pots, pans, nor mugs. what a disillusion it was to find on our arrival at zandspruit that there were no tents, and as yet no provisions of any kind! so we were initiated by having to pass the first nights of our commando life on the open veld with insufficient food. and in the daytime our work was cut out for us, as every other minute our horses disappeared--lost among the thousands of horses that all looked exactly alike in the eyes of an inexperienced townsman. then it meant a running and seeking, an examining of marks and tokens, until the stupid among us were obliged to tie ribbons to our horses as a means of recognising them. and one, the story goes, even tied a nosebag, with a bundle of forage, to his mount so that it should not run away. at length the provisions began to arrive, but the pots and pans were still scarce and we could not even drink a cup of coffee till a tin of jam or meat had been emptied. we were just beginning to feel comfortable, when the time stated in the ultimatum expired, and we had to cross the boundary of natal. general erasmus was at the head of our commando. we spent the night near volksrust in a cold hail storm and rain. those first days we are not likely to forget. they were wet, cold days, and we were still unaccustomed to preparing our own food and looking after ourselves. fortunately, we had the opportunity, a few days later, of supplying ourselves with all necessaries at newcastle. before we crossed the boundary general erasmus had addressed us and told us the news of our first victory--the taking of an armoured train at kraaipan; at that time we still made a fuss about such a trifle. also, in those days, we still looked up with respect to our leaders. ds. postma, who accompanied us everywhere, led us in prayer. not one of the burghers seems to have known where the enemy were. we advanced slowly and carefully, as we expected _to meet with the enemy at any moment_; but we saw no signs of them until we came to dundee. after a rest of a few days we undertook the momentous expedition to the mountains of dundee, to the north of the town. towards evening we got the order to 'prepare for three days.' for three days! and we had not even provisions enough for one. but we understood that there could not yet be a proper commissariat, and we fought for our country willingly, convinced of the justice of our cause; so we 'prepared' cheerfully. before the commando started, a terrible thunderstorm came on that slowly passed over and was followed by a gentle rain. we rode hard in the dark, through dongas, past farms and houses, zigzagging in a half-circle, to the mountains of dundee. no sound was to be heard except the dull thud of the hoofs of the galloping horses. now and again we whispered to each other how delightfully we were going to surprise the enemy. when the horses came to a sudden pause, and an inexperienced rider, owing to a presentiment of evil, involuntarily uttered his wish to 'halt,' we turned upon him angrily and called him 'traitor.' we did not then know that we were far beyond earshot of the enemy. it stopped raining, and towards morning we reached the mountains; and after we had with great difficulty got our horses on to the mountains, we had to await the dawn in the cold, drenched to the skin. a mackintosh is of small service in such a rain. when the day dawned we led our horses higher up. a thick fog had come on. general lucas meyer was to begin the attack on the west, and we were to surprise the enemy from the heights. when the roar of cannon announced the battle, we were full of enthusiasm, but general erasmus forbade anyone to move on before the fog lifted. it was quite possible that the fog might be only on the mountain-tops, because of their great height, and that we would have clear weather as soon as we began to descend, therefore several of our men begged general erasmus to be allowed to go on ahead as scouts. but he was very much against it, and said that the enemy might cut off our retreat, and 'if the enemy surround us it is all up with us,' said he. as soon as the roar of the cannon ceased, we withdrew some distance into the mountains to let our horses graze. but we had only just off-saddled, when from all sides came the cry of 'saddle! saddle!' and from our left, in the valley, came the sound of firing. a detachment of khakies, probably knowing nothing of our whereabouts, and intending to pass round the mountains and attack lucas meyer in the rear, was compelled to surrender in a few moments, after first having sought cover in a kraal near a house. we remained three days on the dundee mountains, and during all that time there was a steady drizzle, with intervals of hail and wind. once when it cleared up for a few hours we got the order to attack the town, but it began to rain again, and that night we had to keep our positions in the intense cold, without any covering. fortunately, the enemy abandoned their camp that night, and when we looked down upon the town next morning the khakies had vanished. we had only the preceding day placed our cannon in a position to command the camp. when we returned to our saddles, the horses had strayed so far that it took us almost all day to get them back. my uncle, paul maré, formerly volksraad member for zoutpansberg, treated us to kaboe-mealies (roasted maize), the first we had on commando, and we ate with great relish. meanwhile the commando had left. we followed, and entered dundee, where we helped ourselves hungrily to the good things from the shops placed at the disposal of the commandos. in an unorganized army looting is a necessary evil. there are always some of the lower classes who are the ringleaders, and when the commandos reach a house or farm that has already been looted, they join in the looting 'because the burghers are on commando, and they must be well supplied with all necessaries, so as to be able to fight well.' so we reasoned, and we joined in the looting. i can affirm, to the honour of our burghers, that it was not our intention to plunder, and in the beginning much was done to prevent it. the lower class uitlander, who joined us for the sake of booty, and not for love and sympathy towards us, was largely responsible for the bad name we got among right-minded people who did not know the facts of the case. it was the same as regards theft. if anyone missed his horse, he had but to look for it among the 'irish corps,' or some other uitlander corps, and unless he knew his beast well he would fail to recognise it, as both mane and tail would have been cut short by the thief. i do not wish to pretend that _we_ were always free from blame. it has happened that the uitlander got a very poor horse in exchange for his thoroughbred because a boer had tied the token of recognition to his own horse and made off with the better one. the truth is that very few men are proof against the demoralizing influence of war, and i will not deny that this war has shown up our many faults; but in my tale i shall be able to take up the cudgels for my people in cases where the rest of the world turned from us because they were disappointed in their expectations of us. after our departure from dundee the looting went on freely. then we began to witness the devastation that is the irremediable consequence of war. here and there a house had been completely plundered. at glencoe junction i entered the stationmaster's house, a well-furnished house with beautiful pictures, books, and mirrors. some massive silver mugs and other articles of value were lying about. the family had only just dined, for the cloth was still laid. i ate of the food on the table, wrote a letter home with pen and ink, and left the house. later on, when i returned, it had been thoroughly looted and some of the mirrors smashed. there were many of the riff-raff, kaffirs and coolies in the neighbourhood, and in all probability they had done the mischief. when our commando left dundee to move in the direction of ladysmith, part of the pretoria town commando was sent to reinforce lucas meyer, who was to follow the troops fleeing from dundee with his commando. my brother and i went with it. a terrible thunderstorm came on just then, and during the whole march to ladysmith it rained heavily. every moment we expected to come up with the troops, but they had too great a start, and we did not overtake them at all. we were too late again. an english general has said that 'the boers are brave, and make good plans, but are always twenty-four hours late.' that can be explained in this way. we were accustomed to fighting against kaffirs, who hid in woods and mountains, and against whom we had to advance with the utmost precaution, so as to lose as few lives as possible. so we were too cautious in the beginning of the war. we would not make a great sacrifice to win a battle. on october we were present, under lucas meyer, at the battle near ladysmith, but we did not come into action, as we belonged to a part of the commando that had to hold a position to prevent attack in the rear. the enemy did not attack our position at all, except with a few bombs, because they suffered a great defeat near modderspruit, and had to retreat hurriedly. from our positions we could see how every time the bombs burst among them the fleeing troops seemed to get 'mazed' for a moment, and then went forward again. at that time we were often in want of food. one must have suffered hunger to know what it means. in a few linen bags i had some biscuits that had first been reduced to crumbs through the riding, and then to a kind of pap by the rain and perspiration of the horse. often when i felt the pangs of famine i added some sugar to this mess and ate it with relish. some days later we left lucas meyer and returned to our commando, which had meanwhile gone to the north of ladysmith. during our absence zeederberg had taken the place of melt marais as veld-cornet. ii siege of ladysmith--battle of the rooirandjes--blowing up of the cannon when we surrounded the town and the siege began, all talk of the bananas that we were to eat in the south of natal came to an end. ladysmith ought never to have been besieged. on october we should have made use of our advantage. if we had at once followed the enemy when they fled in disorder, we should in all probability easily have taken those positions that would have involved the immediate surrender of ladysmith. many lives would have been sacrificed, but not so many as were sacrificed during the whole siege. and we might have used those men who were necessary to maintain the siege elsewhere as an attacking force. instead of following up our advantage, we deliberately prepared for a siege. the enemy meanwhile made use of the opportunity to entrench themselves well. most of our burghers were against our attempting to take the town by assault when once it was thoroughly entrenched. the pretoria town commando and that from krokodil river in the pretoria district occupied the position nearest to ladysmith. this was a hill to the north of the town, flat at the top, and surrounded by a stone wall. in all probability the enclosed depression of about paces in circuit had been used as a cattle-kraal. against that kopje (hill) we gradually put up our tents. from our camp we looked on to a large flat mountain that we called little amajuba, because on october the first large capture of prisoners had been made there. in front of our kopje, near the foot, ran a donga, and at a distance of about , paces, parallel to us, lay another oblong kopje occupied by the enemy. this kopje we called rooirandjes. on november we received the order from our general to attack the rooirandjes the following day. we were about strong, and very willing, as that position had not yet been entrenched. on a mountain to our right a cannon had been placed that was to begin firing on the enemy's position towards dawn. distinct orders were given that our veld-cornet was to be at the foot of rooirandjes with his men before daybreak. but something went wrong again, and it was already quite light when we reached the donga. we found ourselves at a distance of about paces from the rooirandjes, and we had to cross an open space if we still wished to storm the position. the enemy's watch already began shooting at us. the corporals let their men advance in groups of four from the donga to the kopje, using the ant-hills as cover when they lay down. our turn came last, but meanwhile the enemy had received reinforcements, and the nearest ant-hills were nearly all occupied, so that only three men could go at a time. such a shower of bullets fell that it was a miracle that we came out of it alive. fortunately i found a free ant-hill. my brother had to share one with a comrade. at last the cannon from the mountain fired a few shots, but stopped again almost immediately--why, i do not yet know. so we were obliged to lie in our positions. it was terribly hot, and not a cloud in the sky. we suffered horribly from thirst, and scarcely dared move to get at our water-bags. one of our comrades lay groaning behind me. he was shot through both legs. the bullets kept flying over our heads to the kopje behind us, where some of our burghers lay firing at the enemy. every now and again a bullet exploded in our neighbourhood with the noise of a pistol-shot. i fancy only dum-dums make that peculiar noise. we had already seen many such bullets taken from the enemy by our burghers in the battle of modderspruit. another burgher, mulder, ran past me with a smile on his lips, threw himself behind an ant-hill, immediately rose again with the intention of joining some of our burghers in the front ranks, who sat calmly smoking behind some rocks under a tree, but had not gone two paces when he was shot in the thigh. there he had to lie groaning until our brave reineke, who was killed later on at spion kop, saw a chance of carrying him away. some of us fell asleep from fatigue. one of our men on waking heard the hiss of a bullet over his head at regular intervals, and thought that a khaki had got closer up to him, and was firing at him from the side. when he lifted his head he found that he had rolled away from all cover. one, two, three, back he was again behind his ant-hill, and the scoundrel stopped firing at him. it was lucky for us that the enemy were such bad shots, or not many of us would have lived to tell the tale. when our cannon at last, towards evening, condescended to bombard the enemy, the firing almost wholly ceased, and we made use of that favourable opportunity to get back to the donga. we had lain nine hours behind those ant-hills, and, strange to say, there were only two wounded on our side. we decided not to run the same risk again. in this way we lost our confidence in men like the brothers erasmus, general and commandant, who, in the first place, were incapable of organizing a good plan of attack, and, secondly, never took part in a battle. the months spent near ladysmith were to most of us the most tedious of the whole war. we had so little to do, and the heat between the glowing rocks of the kopjes was awful. the little work we had was anything but pleasant; it consisted chiefly in keeping guard either by day or by night. in the beginning a very bad watch was kept. later on we had to climb the kopje at least every alternate evening to pass the long nights in our positions, while not far behind us stood our empty tents. when we got back in the morning with our bundles on our backs, dead tired, we simply 'flopped' on to a stone, and sat waiting for our cup of coffee, either gazing at the lovely landscape or at the dirty camp, according to the mood we were in, or exchanging loud jokes with our neighbours. constantly being on guard and constantly being in danger wears one out. we much prefer active service on patrol or in a skirmish to lying in our positions. it is not in the nature of the boer to lie inactive far from his home. he soon wants to go 'huis-toe' (home), and very soon the 'leave-plague' broke out in our camp. that plague was one of the causes why the enemy succeeded in breaking through our lines. through unfairness on the part of the officers, some burghers often got leave, others never, and the consequence, of course, was a constant quarrelling. many burghers got leave and never returned--either with or without the knowledge of the officers. no wonder we never had a proper fighting force in the field. the difficulties we had to contend with through want of organization prevented the generals from putting their plans into execution. fortunately, many burghers were very willing, and if there was to be a fight they always went voluntarily. it was noticeable that those under a capable general fought well, while those under a bad or incapable general were very weak indeed. sometimes wonders were done at the initiative of some of the burghers. we had a few games in the camp to pass the time, but we were kept busy in a different way also. sometimes, when we were all just comfortably lazy, the order would be given to 'mount.' that meant a hurried search for our horses and snatching up our guns and bandoliers. but after a while we had had enough of those false alarms, and they failed to make any impression on us. the call of 'the english are coming! saddle, saddle!' became proverbial. when we did not keep such constant guard, we sat or lay listening of an evening to a most discordant noise caused by the singing of psalms and hymns at the same time at different farms. we sometimes joined in. as a people we are not very musical. the day-watch we liked best. then we often got a chance of firing a shot at a careless khaki on the rooirandjes. to some of our young men there was something very exciting in the idea that they were in constant danger. every now and again a bomb, too, would come flying over the camp, and the whole commando would make for the rocks amid shouts of laughter. at that time we still felt rather down when there was a fight in prospect. when, some time after our attack on the rooirandjes, we went to the west of ladysmith to attack platrand, we did not feel at all comfortable, although we went voluntarily. it was a lovely ride in the dark at a flying gallop, but when we found on our arrival at platrand that the promised number of men was not there, we rode away again quite satisfied that we had not to attempt the attack. for had we not made up our minds not to risk a repetition of the attack on rooirandjes? the blowing-up of the cannon at ladysmith is one of the episodes of the war that we look back upon with a feeling of shame. a few days after a long tom had been blown up on umbulwana kop, east of ladysmith, i warned our field-cornet that the enemy were busy spying in our neighbourhood at night. while on guard, we could distinctly hear the flapping of the saddles and the neighing of the horses in front of us. i foretold a repetition of what had happened on umbulwana kop. the field-cornet promised that the guard would be doubled that night. towards morning those of us who were not on guard were waked out of our sleep by a loud cry of 'hurrah!' from the throats of a few hundred englishmen who were blowing up two cannon on a mountain to our right, close to us. we sprang towards our positions, stumbling and falling over stones, not knowing what was going on, and expecting the khakies at any moment. it was the first time that we had heard a fight at night, and it gave us a creepy feeling. we saw the flames of the guns and from the exploding bullets, and heard the rattling of the shots and the shouting, but we could not join in the fight, as we--eight of us--were not allowed to leave our positions. now and again a bullet fell in our neighbourhood, and the free state artillery, who were on the mountains to the right, fired some bombs at the enemy, nearly hitting us in the dark. when it got lighter we went to look at the dead and wounded, perhaps from a feeling of bravado, perhaps to accustom ourselves to the sight. the enemy had paid dearly for their brave deed. they know the number of their dead and wounded better than we do, for they had opportunity enough to carry them away. on our side only four were killed and a few wounded. niemeyer, van zyl and villiers were among the killed. pott was severely wounded. niemeyer had several bayonet wounds. after that we were, of course, doubly careful. we have never been able to discover who failed in their duty on guard. cooper and tossel were suspected and accused. they were sent to pretoria under arrest, but the investigation never led to any result. we have every reason to believe that our burghers were guilty of treachery more than once near ladysmith. government ought from the start to have taken strict measures against traitors and spies. some days after the blowing up of the cannon i sprained my left knee, which i had already hurt before the war began. general erasmus gave me leave to go home for an unlimited time. on my way home i passed my brother willem without being aware of it. he had come from holland, where he was studying, to take part in the war. what a meeting with relatives and friends! how much there was to tell! even then we had not experienced very much, and how much more will our burghers have to tell their dear ones on returning from their exile in strange countries! there will, alas! be much sorrow, too; for many of our friends and relatives have been killed in this war, and many more will have yet to give their lives for their country! iii the eight-day battle of the tugela--talk of intervention--relief of ladysmith before my knee was quite cured i returned to ladysmith. the first thing that caught my eye on my return to the camp was the balloon above ladysmith. it looked just like a large crocodile-eye as it followed all my movements. when i went to look for my horse or to fetch water or wood, there it stood, high up in the sky, and i felt as if it kept its eye specially fixed on me, and as if i might expect a bomb at any moment. we had never in all our lives seen so many flies as at ladysmith. we had to hurry over our meals as they made eating almost an impossibility to us. fortunately, i was only a short time there, as towards the end of january, , part of our commando, including my brother and myself, was sent to the tugela as reinforcement. we had a distance of four and a half hours to ride, and we had to ride hard, as the enemy were determined to force their way through. we arrived the same day, just two days after the enemy had tried to force their way through to the right of spion kop and had been defeated. on nearing the high tugela mountains we heard more and more distinctly the constant rattling of bullets, interrupted by the roar of the cannon and the bom-bom-bom of our saucy bomb-maxim, that made our hearts expand and those of the enemy shrink. as we raced on to the foot of the mountains, the bullets that the enemy were sending over the mountains to find the boers raised the dust around us. the following morning we went to lie in a trench that had been dug by our men on a rise to the right of spion kop. the previous day eight burghers had been wounded there. red danie opperman was field-cornet. not far from us, to our left, stood a few of our cannon, and facing us, to our left, on the long mountain slope, we could see fourteen guns of the enemy's. in front of us was a large wood, and close to that the english camp. we could see the enemy moving in great close square masses. it was a terribly hot day; we had to lie in the trenches, as all day long the enemy fired at us from the smaller positions facing us, at a distance of , paces; and constantly the bombs burst over our heads. at regular intervals a lyddite bomb--that gave us a shock through our whole body--came from the wood towards the cannon on our left. once only part of our entrenchment, where, fortunately, no one happened to be, was blown to bits. whenever there was a moment's pause, we lifted our heads above the trenches to have a look at the lovely landscape and at the positions of our enemy. that day not one of us was wounded. only the artillery suffered. if our few cannon ventured to make themselves heard, eight or more bombs followed in quick succession to silence them. next to me lay a man whose servant, a restless, impatient bushman, most amicably addressed him as johnny. the bushman went to and fro continually to a 'chum' of his who lay hidden behind a rock close to us. once, on one of his visits to his 'chum,' a bullet struck the ground close to his heels; he stood still, looked slowly and defiantly from his heels to the enemy, and said in a most emphatic tone, 'you confounded englishman!' and calmly proceeded on his way to his chum. to the right of this position was an open space, almost level with the immediate surroundings, but ending in a steep decline some paces further on. there we went towards evening with a reinforcement of the pretoria town commando that had followed us. the field-cornet made us stand in rows, and told off forty men to dig a trench that night. the rest of the men would relieve us the following night. my brother and i were in the first shift. towards morning, while we were still digging at the trenches, fire was opened across the whole line of battle. we imagined that we were being attacked, and jammed ourselves in the narrow trench. but as the attack did not come off, and the bullets flew high over our heads, we went on digging until daybreak. then we noticed that the enemy were lying in a trench about paces ahead of us. we fired a few shots at them, but saved our ammunition for an eventual storming. the whole of that day and the two succeeding days there was a constant salvo over our heads. the bullets flew over our heads like finches, and did us no harm, but we had to be on our guard against the sharpshooters, who occasionally fired close to us. that day (january ), the heroic battle of spion kop took place, where our burghers, after having been surprised in the night by the enemy and driven off the kop, obliged them, after a stubborn fight, to abandon it again. the pretoria men, who were to have relieved us in the trench, took a great part in that battle. reineke, yeppe, malherbe, de villiers, and olivier were killed. ihrige was severely wounded. all day long we lay listening to the fighting, for we could not sleep. we had to stay in the trench three days and four nights before we were relieved. water and food were brought to us, or fetched by our men at night, as we did not venture to leave the trench by day. we were safe enough, for the bombs had not much effect on the sand-walls of our trench, and there was always time to stoop to avoid them. the following morning news was brought to us that the enemy had abandoned the whole line of battle and were retreating in the direction of chieveley. the battle of the tugela had lasted eight days. i had again hurt my knee, and had to leave ladysmith for pretoria, from whence i went to warmbad at waterberg to stay for a few weeks with mrs. klein-frikkie grobler, who received me most kindly. my brother frits got leave for the first time then, too, and willem remained at ladysmith. during my absence the english broke through at pieter's heights, where willem was made prisoner and lüttig, malherbe and stuart de villiers were killed. meanwhile frits had gone, with some other pretoria men, to the orange free state, where the enemy had surrounded general cronje. since the beginning of the siege our burghers always thought the town would fall soon. 'the khakies cannot hold out any longer! they have no provisions, and their ammunition must be coming to an end! buller can never cross the tugela, our positions are too good! what does it matter if _i_ do go on leave? the khakies cannot get through!' that was the opinion of most of the burghers. and if anyone ventured to point out that the enemy _might_ force their way through because we did not all do our duty, he was either not believed or looked upon as a traitor. meanwhile enthusiasm was dying out. the burghers lay in their lagers or went home, trusting to the few willing ones, who ultimately proved not strong enough to withstand the overwhelming force that buller brought to bear upon one point of our positions when he was obliged to force his way through at no matter what cost. no leave should have been given during the war, and here i may as well mention--although this tale does not pretend to be a history of the war--that it has been carried on with far too great laxity, owing to the ignorance of our generals and the demoralizing influence of self-interest and nepotism. we should have sent our forces far into the cape colony to get help from our brothers in a war that had been forced upon us by england. the colonial afrikanders never had the opportunity of standing by us, because we did not supply them with the necessary ammunition or stretch out our hands towards them. unless they had help from our invading forces, they dared not risk a rising, because of the confiscation of their property in case of failure. we have had to suffer--to suffer cruelly for our sins. our enemy forced his way through the dyke that surrounded us, and like a stormy sea he ruined our homes, devastated our fields, and caused us endless suffering. besides this, the talk of intervention had an enervating effecton the commandos. in our commando, which was largely composed of ignorant men, the strangest stories went round. one was that the russians had landed somewhere in south africa with cannon. there was always talk of a great european war having broken out; and the consequence was that the boers counted on intervention or help from the powers, instead of depending on their own strength and perseverance. the most sensible among us recognised the improbability of intervention. it was not to the interest of any foreign power to intervene in south africa where it had no firm footing, particularly as chamberlain had, by most cunning artifices, forced us to be the aggressors. war was inevitable. sooner or later it had to come. after the jameson raid, which was really the beginning of the war, the transvaal government recognised the dangerous position in which it stood, as an isolated republic, and was therefore obliged to arm itself with the most modern of military equipments. before the jameson raid race hatred was dying out rapidly. the consequence of the raid was that the gap between boer and englishman widened, the sympathy of the uitlanders for us grew deeper, and the afrikander bond grew stronger. england's prestige in south africa was threatened, and with it her rank as first power in the world. she had to maintain her supremacy in south africa; while for us it had become a question of all or nothing. england has evidently succeeded in keeping up such friendly relations with the other powers that no intervention seems possible. the relief of ladysmith took place on february --a majuba day--a day that had been marked as a red-letter day in our calendars. for nineteen years the enemy have longed to wipe out the remembrance of that day, and they have done so brilliantly and malignantly. since that time we have been humiliated and belittled. our fall was great. for the first time there was a general panic. the two republics, being forced to venture on war against a powerful kingdom, felt themselves staggering under the heavy blow. iv dewetsdrift--return to, and flight from, pretoria after the relief of kimberley and ladysmith we imagined that the decisive battles would soon follow. although my knee was not yet cured, i went to glencoe, whither our commandos had retreated. i was not five days there when i had to leave, being unfit for active service. again i went to warmbad for some weeks with mr. burgemeester potgieter and his family, and on my return to pretoria remained in my office until the beginning of may. meanwhile frits had returned from the free state, and my knee was cured. we each bought ourselves a sturdy pony, and left, with some other burghers, by train for klerksdorp, from where we went on to dewetsdrift, on the vaal river. general viljoen was guarding the drift there with some hundreds of burghers. we rode from there some four or five hours into the free state to spy the movements of the enemy. from dewetsdrift we went, under commandant boshoff, to schoemansdrift, venterskroon, and lindequidrift. our division formed part of the escort for the guns. our route lay through beautiful scenery. the vaal twists and bends between two high mountains that curve on either side like the roads the khaki makes with his double row of waggons over the hills of the hoogeveld. in every opening of the mountains lies a farm, a mean little house, but among well-cultivated fields. in nearly every farm the family was grieving for one of its members who had been taken prisoner along with cronje, and of whose fate they were in ignorance. the people received us very kindly. everywhere we got milk and biscuits, and we found afterwards that those people were the kindest who had suffered the most from the war. as the enemy were already on their way to johannesburg, we had to retreat as rapidly as possible, first to bank station, near potchefstroom, and then by train to langlaagte. to the north-west of johannesburg we had a skirmish with the enemy, who attacked us as we were feeding our horses. it appeared that our guard was not on duty. i have never seen horses saddled so quickly. most of the burghers rode off and left us behind with the guns. one ammunition waggon stuck in the mud, and was left behind, but was brought in safety to pretoria by frans lottering, a comrade of mine, who rode back for it with some gunners when we had fled. lottering was given a sword by general de la rey for his brave conduct. through negligence on the part of our officers we lost on that occasion one gun, several waggons, and some of our men. almost all night long we retreated with our guns to pretoria. we had not lost courage. we all spoke of the thorough way in which our government would have fortified pretoria, and of the great battle that would take place there. we had all made up our minds to a stubborn resistance at our capital. what a bitter disappointment it was to find that our government had decided not to defend the town! the causes that led to such a decision will be brought to light by historians. the consequences were that many of the burghers were discouraged, and rode 'huis-toe,' and nothing came of the great battle that was to have been fought. frits and i decided to give our horses a few days' rest in their stables before going to meet the enemy. on june , at about twelve o'clock, while we were at luncheon, a lyddite bomb fell close to the fort, raising a cloud of dust. my mother went outside, and came back quickly to tell us that it was not a shot _from_ the fort, but from the enemy. the bombs followed in quick succession. they flew over schanskop fort, and fell close to our house at sunnyside. as the ground was rocky they exploded well. my mother and sister fled with our neighbours to the town, and my brother and i saddled our horses and rode off to quaggaspoort. from over the mountains, to the south of the town, the bombs came flying as a gentle warning from the khakies that it would be better to surrender in order to avoid a great calamity. it was sad to see how few horses there were at the foot of the mountain. here a group of four, there of ten--a sign that the number of burghers in the positions was very small indeed. when the enemy appeared at quaggaspoort, we noticed that the burghers from the direction of krokodil river were retreating, and a moment later they were all in full flight. one of my comrades, a brother of lottering, was wounded in the arm by a shell as he fled, and had to remain behind in pretoria. that night my brother and i spent in our own home, but we left the town the following morning in the direction of silverton, just before the enemy entered. it would be well to try and understand the condition of our country and the temper of our burghers. as the capital was in the hands of the enemy, it was easy enough to convince our simple-minded men that our country was irretrievably lost to us. therefore a period of discouragement and demoralization followed. many burghers, also, who had all along fought bravely now remained behind in the towns or on their farms, not daring to leave their wives and daughters at the mercy of the soldiers. we may not judge those men, neither need we consider it to our credit that we, either from a sense of duty or from a spirit of adventure, acted differently. there were many also who argued that the government was corrupt, and that the war should have been prevented, or that the boers did not want to fight. so they also became unfaithful to the cause, and to those along with whom they began the war. and the name of 'hands-upper' was earned by those burghers who of their own free will surrendered to the enemy. the chaff was divided from the grain; cowards and traitors remained behind, and the willing ones went to the veld, even though it were in a retreating direction. we were still very hopeful. there were still the good positions in the lydenberg district, and we had heard that de wet had cut the line of communication behind the enemy. we also still had an intact line to delagoa bay. my brother and i met our old comrade frans loitering, and the three of us went in search of general grobler of waterberg, who lay with his commando to the east of pretoria at franspoort, near donkerhoek. there we joined his commando. our camp was put up near a kaffir location, and as the kaffirs were clean, we often bought boiled sweet potatoes and crushed maize from them. nothing particular happened at franspoort. to the right and left of us some desperate fighting went on for several days, and at donkerhoek a fierce battle took place, but we were not attacked. when the news came that the enemy had broken through our lines at donkerhoek, and that we had to retreat, my brother and i left grobler's commando. thinking that the commandos would fall back upon the positions of belfast, we went to middelburg to an uncle of ours, the missionary jan maré, in order to give our horses a rest. we had lost sight of our comrade frans. on our way we bought bread at the farms, or had it given us, cut a piece off an ox that had been slaughtered for the commando, and slept either in a manger or, as was more often the case, in the open air of the cold hoogeveld. we arrived at middelburg completely exhausted, and are not likely to forget our uncle's great hospitality. we accidentally met our former commandant, boshoff, who told us that he was on his way with ten men to join general de la rey, who had gone in the direction of rustenburg to cut the enemy's line of communication between mafeking and pretoria, and we very willingly joined him, after a delightful rest of ten days. the commando of commandant boshoff consisted of nine burghers with an ambulance waggon--that was used for the commissariat and for our bedding--a french doctor, two kaffirs and two tents. it seemed as if we were going for a picnic. but it was necessary that we should be well provided with all sorts of things, as our journey would be through the boschland, where fever and horse-sickness play havoc with man and horse in summer. in winter it is endurable for a few months only, so the country is very scarcely populated and almost uncultivated, and in winter the boers trek there with their cattle from the bare, chill hoogeveld. i had always longed to see that part of the transvaal. v trek from middelburg to rustenburg--battle of selikatsnek some hours north of middelburg one suddenly leaves the high plateau of the boschveld for a difficult road that curves steadily downwards between two high mountains until it reaches a wide, thickly-wooded valley. in the kloof (mountain-pass) a swiftly-flowing river cuts the road that goes along its banks, in several places, before it loses itself in the olifants river. there the song of many birds, not to be found on the hoogeveld, can be heard, and there it was delightfully warm, in comparison with the chilly air of the hoogeveld. of an evening we made large fires, as there was plenty of dry wood. we sat round the fire, chatting or listening to the comic songs which one of our comrades sang. it was a happy time--away from khaki, far beyond reach of the roar of cannon--a time of rest in preparation for the evil days that awaited us. everywhere we saw flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazing among the bushes--always a sign that we should find a waggon or two with tents close to them, under the nearest trees. sometimes, near a drift or a good place to uitspan, quite a small lager had been formed of the trek boers, or, rather, of their wives, for the husbands and sons of many had gone to the war. the boers who fled with their cattle in that way we called 'bush-lancers.' we came up with de la rey's lager near the elands river, and later on made the acquaintance of captain kirsten's scouts, to whom we offered our services. in those days it was very pleasant to belong to the reconnoitring corps. when we went to reconnoitre our horses got plenty of forage on the farms, and as we were few in number and always ahead of the lager, there were always eggs, bread, and milk to be had. we had enough to do, also, as we had to keep a sharp look-out, and we were in constant danger, but not at all afraid of the patrols of khakies, which, being small in number and without their guns, were pretty harmless. we advanced almost parallel to the magalies mountains, that stretch from pretoria to rustenburg, until we came to the neighbourhood of selikatsnek. unless one was well acquainted with the highways and byways of that part of the country, one was in constant danger of losing the way; it is a long stretch of bush, consisting of the well-known thorn-bushes of the hoogeveld, for a distance of about ten miles deep. the principal passes of the magalies mountains were occupied by the enemy--wonderboompoort, hornsnek, selikatsnek, commandonek, olifantsnek. general de la rey had made up his mind to take selikatsnek, and on july he succeeded, by his strong will and military talent. while we were reconnoitring with captain kirsten's party we got the news that de la rey had attacked selikatsnek--about an hour's ride from where we were--and that the battle was still going on. we all rode to the scene of action, but my brother and i, with a few other men, remained behind to wait for captain kirsten, who was absent at the time. as soon as he arrived we rode off, and arrived at selikatsnek at about nine o'clock. our burghers had already taken two of the enemy's guns. selikatsnek (or moselikatsnek) is a narrow opening in the magalies mountains, with high shoulders on either side, that slope gradually to a white kopje in the centre. if an attacking party once occupies the shoulders, it can easily keep the enemy on the kopje or on the two slopes. when we arrived our burghers already occupied the principal positions--both shoulders and the smaller positions to the front of the kopje. the enemy had been obliged to draw in their clipped wings, and to concentrate on and in the neighbourhood of the white kopje. but as the shoulders of the pass were very steep on the other side, our men could not surround the enemy or attack them in the rear; and as there was not sufficient cover for them to go down the slope without great loss, in order to drive the enemy by force from their positions, the burghers remained 'rock-fast' in their positions, and made no progress at all. thus, the enemy would either get reinforcements from pretoria or escape when it got dark. both our flanks kept up a constant fire on the slopes, and on the white kopje, but the shoulders were too high for a proper aim, and the khakies lay fast behind the boulders and in the clefts of the rocks. captain kirsten, with about ten men, was ordered by general coetzee to hold a position to the right of the white kopje, and prevent the enemy from taking it. this position consisted of a small rise, from which we could fire at the kopje with a sight of paces. to the right of this rise, at a distance of paces, was a small kloof overgrown with bushes, and on the other side of the kloof ran a reef of rocks in the direction of the white kopje. here some of the burghers had before our arrival forced eleven khakies to surrender, but they had not succeeded in occupying the position, as some khakies had remained in the kloof, and had shouted to them that they would not surrender. we were therefore warned against that kloof. but while the others were shooting at the enemy on the white kopje, one of our men went by himself to see if there really were any khakies left there. he kept under cover wherever he could--behind the rocks and behind the walls of an old kraal--and came close up to the kloof without being fired at. on the other side, at a distance of fifty paces, he heard a wounded man groaning and begging for water; but, as he was alone, he did not venture to cross the kloof. he returned to his comrades, but they would pay no attention to his request to cross, as they thought the enemy were only waiting until more men came under fire before they began firing. we continued shooting at the white kopje, from which the enemy were firing at us. the captain had a good telescope, through which he could distinctly see the faces of the enemy on the kopje. if a khaki showed himself from behind a rock, the captain pointed him out to one of our marksmen, alec boshoff, who studied the position through the telescope, and took such good aim that the captain declared he could see the blood on the wounded man's face. the burgher who had gone to the kloof tried to persuade the rest to cross with him to the other side, as he was sure the enemy were not inclined to make any resistance there. at length, after twelve, he went with two others to the opposite side, but first told a few of the best marksmen to keep an eye on the reef. they crossed the kloof very cautiously. it was dangerous work, as a shot might come at any moment from behind one of the numerous shrubs or boulders. but they did not advance in an unbroken line. every time they sought cover behind a rock, from which they watched to see whether the enemy would make their appearance. they did not all three advance at the same time, either, but first one and then the other. whenever they had advanced a few steps, they stopped to ask the wounded man, who lay groaning there, whether he was alone. when they reached him they put some grass under his head, and gave him some brandy from a flask that they always carried with them. the poor man lay in a pool of blood on a rock under some shrubs. he had been shot through the leg. his name was lieutenant pilkington. the wounded man took hold of the hands of one of the burghers and begged him to stay with him. he, however, considered it his duty to advance, but first assured the poor man that the burghers who were following could also speak english, and would look after him. most of our men followed the three. the rocks and boulders on the reef that we were climbing afforded us splendid cover from the enemy on the white kopje. to our left we found some more wounded. my brother took charge of one with a ghastly wound in his head. we made some prisoners there, who were too cowardly to defend themselves. a few of our comrades took them down. we could notice by the guns and rugs that were lying about that the enemy had fled in a panic, or else we should never have ventured to do what we did later on. we could fire at the enemy from a much shorter distance now, but were not yet in their rear. it was necessary that we should occupy the next position--a reef running parallel to the reef we were climbing, at a distance of eighty paces. but it was impossible to take that position, as our guns were firing bomb after bomb from the valley at our back, somewhat to the left of us, so that the stones flew up in the air. we also ran the risk of being taken for khakies, as our men knew nothing of our venture. the captain sent down a message to tell them to stop shelling that position, as we wished to take it. meanwhile, we kept on firing at the white kopje, and the khakies kept on firing at us. i went back to the wounded officer, who was being looked after by the captain. while we were standing talking, he died from loss of blood. oh the cruel brutality of war! the poor man was not dead five minutes when we sat smoking his cigarettes. we moved slightly more to the left towards the boulders. khaki was on the one side, we on the other. some of our men had a most original and amusing way of getting at the khakies. 'come out, you rabbits, come out of your holes, else we'll shoot down the lot of you!' then the poor things answered: 'we're afraid to come out. you'll kill us!' they really thought we would shoot them down if they surrendered. the officers had lost all control over the soldiers. later on, at nooit gedacht, where _we_ had cover as well as the enemy, it was proved that as soon as the officers lose control over the men they remain lying behind the rocks without firing a shot, as they are too frightened to expose themselves. most of them still had their bandoliers full of cartridges--there, too, when they surrendered. before the war the english used to say they would fight us in our own way, from behind rocks; but they forgot that as soon as an officer, having to seek cover himself, fails to keep his eye on his men, they are too cowardly to lift their heads from behind the rocks, as they are not fighting for their independence. on a field like selikatsnek we are by far the better men. to get the khakies from behind the rocks, one of our men ran as hard as he could to a rock in their neighbourhood, and aimed at them. then some of them threw down their guns and put up their hands. others surrendered more calmly. so he sometimes made five or six of them surrender without their having fired a single shot at him. a shower of bullets always came from the white kopje, but, as his movements were quick and unexpected, they could not take proper aim at him. one of the khakies said as he surrendered: 'it is better to surrender than to be a dead man.' another: 'just fancy, in the hands of the boers! i wonder what poor mother 'll say!' meanwhile the gunners had received the captain's report, and ceased bombarding the reef that we wanted to storm. as it was getting late and there was no other means, one of our men ran forward as hard as he could, making use of every small covering, while the rest kept firing at the white kopje to prevent the enemy from taking a proper aim at him. there were not many khakies behind that reef, neither did they fire at him. the rest of us followed at intervals, while those who arrived at the reef again fired at the white kopje to cover the others. the few khakies who surrendered at the reef we first disarmed, and then we allowed them to seek cover behind the rocks from the bullets of their friends. from that position we could see the enemy from the rear. in the narrow road, at a distance of about paces from us, stood an ammunition waggon with splendid horses harnessed in it; there was no room for them to turn to draw away the waggon. a few khakies showed themselves next to the waggon, but were immediately shot down. a little further on an ambulance waggon, also inspanned, stood against the kopje; one could distinctly see how the empty litter was carried up and brought down again with some of the wounded. once a man walked next to the litter as it was carried down; i pointed him out to my brother, as i suspected his motive. i was right. just by the ambulance waggon he disappeared in a donga leading to the valley. my brother, who was a little higher up the reef than i was, could not hit him, as he appeared again only for a moment. he was most likely a despatch-rider who went to warn the guard at commandonek to retreat. further on there were some horses to be seen, and a little further still the small tents of which the camps consisted. we kept up a constant fire, but the enemy seemed to have sufficient cover on the kopje--and they were very obstinate. for some time the firing from the shoulders of the pass ceased, and in the dark shadow between the high mountains we for a moment had the feeling that we had been deserted by our men--only for a moment, for we knew it could not be! the game was in our hands. the sun sank lower, and we felt if the enemy were not soon compelled, to surrender they would escape in the dark. there was still one position which must be taken--the last reef, to which most of the enemy had retired from the position we now occupied. one of our men, therefore, let the other six fire a salvo at the kopje, and ran as hard as he could to a rock at a distance of twenty-five paces ahead, about halfway to the last reef. but now both the enemy and our own burghers, under commandant coetzee, fired at him so persistently that he was thankful to reach the rock. he lay there as still as possible, with his gaze fixed on the reef--as he lay without cover on that side. it was a most critical moment. fortunately he heard, almost at once, one of his comrades, van zulch, call out 'oh, the white flag! hullo, the white flag!' and he saw them climbing down. he lay still a moment longer to convince himself of the fact, and then calmly went to the last reef, where many khakies surrendered--and he descended with them. now the rest of the burghers came running along from all directions to disarm the enemy in the dusk--and to take what booty there was to be had. in their eagerness to get as much booty as possible, they allowed an officer, major scobel, to escape. as i arrived rather late on the battlefield, i cannot give any account of the order in which de la rey placed his men, neither do i know the number of the enemy's dead and wounded, nor how many lives our victory cost us. i have never seen any official report concerning this battle. field-cornet van zulch, who with commandant boshoff, took the officers to machadodorp, and who is at present a fellow-prisoner, tells me that three officers--colonel roberts, lieutenants davis and lyall--and soldiers of the lincolnshire regiment were taken prisoners, and that four companies of the scots greys had early that morning escaped with two guns. our loss, both dead and wounded, was not more than thirteen or fourteen men. the enemy had made a stubborn resistance, judging from the number of dead and wounded that were lying on the field. of the seven of us who forced the enemy to surrender by attacking them in the rear, not one was injured, although we were the attacking party. they say that the khaki prisoners whom we left on the reef remained there all night, and came down the following morning with little white flags made of the bandages that a soldier always carries with him, tied to twigs. vi guerilla life on the magalies mountains--narrow escape of president steyn and general de wet. commandant boshoff had been ordered to take the prisoners to machadodorp. he left my brother and me with captain kirsten, who had to reconnoitre in the direction of rustenburg along the magalies mountains. we first of all passed through commandonek, and found that deserted by the enemy. we had no adventures on our way to rustenburg. the rustenburgers, who had nearly all laid down their arms and taken the oath of neutrality, took courage when they saw de la rey's big commando, and joined us one and all. then we recognised a great fault in the character of our people. without the slightest compunction, they first fail in loyalty to their own country, and then break the oath of neutrality, although the enemy had in no single respect violated their part of the contract. some of them we, in a way, forced to join us, as we took the guns and horses of the unwilling ones or of those who acted at all in a suspicious way. we also called them traitors. but most of the burghers joined us of their own free will. many had not taken the oath of neutrality, as they had been beyond the reach of the enemy; others had, after lord roberts' threatening proclamations, ridden over to the enemy to give up their arms, but had given up their old rifles and kept the mausers for 'eventualities,' to use the now historical word of sir alfred milner. a few of the oath-breakers tried to excuse themselves by the jesuit plea that either they did not mean what they swore or else they had purposely changed the form of the oath. in judging those who broke the oath of neutrality later on, we must remember that the enemy did not keep to their part of the contract, and so our men were justified in considering it as null and void, and, according to william stead, their forcing us to take the oath of neutrality was against the geneva convention. but it is too difficult a question for me to discuss. when the enemy, a few days later, drove us from olifantsnek, general de la rey sent captain kirsten with twenty men to the neighbouring kopjes to prevent the enemy from going on a plundering expedition. then i for the first time saw a farm-house burnt down by the enemy. from a high kopje, by the aid of a telescope, we could distinctly see the movements of the khakies. the bitter feeling that was roused in us in our helplessness is not to be described. general baden-powell was in rustenburg, and magatonek was also in possession of the enemy. it was a most interesting and adventurous time that we spent near the magalies mountains. by day we went reconnoitring along the hills near the mountains in the direction of olifantsnek, and towards evening we withdrew into the thick woods of the kloofs, where it was delightfully warm both for ourselves and for our horses. when a small number of the enemy came in our direction, we fired at them unexpectedly from the hills, and so protected the farm-houses on the mountain-sides. occasionally the khakies ventured a little nearer, but always had to retreat in disorder. i once nearly fell into the hands of the enemy. as we were reconnoitring on one of the kopjes, i suggested to a friend that we should go to the farm in front of us, where none of us had been since olifantsnek was in possession of the enemy. we had to ford a donga closed in by barbed wire. when we got to the farm, we were told that the enemy had not been there, with the exception of a khaki who had lost his way. he had taken six eggs from a nest in a kraal and swallowed them greedily, and had then passed on to the garden without speaking a word to the harmless, inquisitive women of the farm. for safety's sake i put the boys on guard and had the horses tied. the view was so enclosed on all sides that the enemy could appear most unexpectedly from olifantsnek. we had been there only a short time, when we were told that the enemy were coming in large numbers from the direction of rustenburg. we mounted at once and rode back, but could not get back to our comrades on the hills because of the barbed wire in the donga. we had gone only about paces along the drift, when the enemy came riding along. fortunately, they were intent on plunder and did not see us, as they kept their eyes fixed in the direction of the house. if we had been a few seconds later we should have fallen into their hands. the few burghers on the kopjes began to fire at them, and when i got to the top of one of the kopjes i saw the enemy--about in number--fleeing in great disorder. this expedition cost them several dead and wounded, besides their plunder--meal, fowls, and other things--that they dropped in their flight. when i went back to the farm later on, i was told that one of the girls had clapped her hands with delight when the enemy fled past them. that must have been the reason why she and her family were so cruelly insulted and plundered by the khakies afterwards. we met with great kindness during our stay in the magalies mountains. we always got something to eat, and towards evening we bought some loaves of bread to take back with us to our hiding-place. in those days we could always get forage for our horses, and they were in very good condition. meanwhile general de la rey had gone with a commando to the west of rustenburg, and had left two commandants in the zwartkoppen, to the north-east of rustenburg. when we got the tidings that the enemy had taken possession of selikatsnek, we went as rapidly as we could to the zwartkoppen. we had many adventures on our way. my brother and i rode on ahead, thinking that the others would follow, but they went a round-about way, and so did not catch us up. when we left the wide tract of wood that stretches along the magalies mountains, we noticed that the enemy from rustenburg had come to meet the column from selikatsnek. fortunately, our horses were good, and we escaped the danger by riding back into the wood to a farm that i knew of. while we were giving our horses a rest there, a despatch-rider came along looking for a reconnoitring corps. we rode with him in the track of our comrades, who had taken a great circuit round rustenburg. we arrived safely at zwartkoppen, and immediately joined commandant boshoff, who had just returned from machadodorp. the commandants now followed general de la rey. we came up with his commando to the west of rustenburg, where he had surrounded a party of the enemy. commandant boshoff, however, was immediately sent to olifantsnek, as the enemy had left rustenburg and the pass was clear. our men were most changeable in their moods. the slightest favourable tidings raised their spirits, but any unfavourable news made their courage sink into their shoes. there was much talk about the retreating movement of the enemy. some spoke of intervention; others said the english soldiers had refused to fight any longer, or that the whole of the colony was in rebellion. this talk went the round even among the officers, probably because they did not understand the enemy's movements. now we know the meaning of it all. it was de wet who was being followed. we were not two days at olifantsnek, when, to our great surprise, de wet arrived with a commando of , men, followed by , english. he had been by treason separated along with steyn from the chief commando, and had been chased by the enemy a month already. it was a great lager that advanced through olifantsnek--the largest commando that we had seen yet, with numerous carts, waggons, beasts of burden, and other belongings. and it was then i made the acquaintance of president steyn and de wet. our commandant with his men accompanied president steyn to machadodorp to president kruger. we put up our tents for the time being next to those of president steyn, so that we had time and opportunity enough to learn to know him. when the enemy a few days later broke through at magatonek, to the west of rustenburg, general de wet sent for me one evening and ordered me to take a report to rustenburg, and gave me some instructions for the commandants there. i had to take a message for president steyn also, that the ambulance of the orange free state was to follow the lager in the direction of the krokodil river. late at night i arrived at rustenburg, only to find that the lagers had already taken flight. the enemy were expected at any moment. but the ambulance was there still, and all night long i led it in the direction the general had told me the lagers would take. late the following morning i arrived at de wet's lager, which had moved a few hours further on to sterkstroom. the commando left there that afternoon, and went along the magalies mountains to commandonek. that day and that night we had a first experience of the long tiresome marches that enabled de wet to mislead the enemy. that night president steyn made a most favourable impression on us with his talk. he did not try to encourage us with hopes of intervention, but merely pointed out that the war might last a long time still, and that we would have to enter the colony. at commandonek we rested a few hours while de wet himself went to reconnoitre. he sent a message to the english officer in charge of the pass that he must surrender. the officer replied that he did not quite understand _who_ must surrender--he or de wet. i think this was merely a dodge on de wet's part to find out by the signature of the reply who was in charge of the army at the pass, and so to make a guess at the numbers of the enemy. he decided not to attack the pass, and before daybreak next day we were on the move again. some time afterwards at warmbad i heard that an english general had related this dodge of de wet's, but he thought de wet had threatened him with a very small force, as his commando must still have been at olifantsnek. it is an example of the way we misled the enemy by our mobility. vii with president steyn to president kruger near krokodil river, on carlyle's farm, president steyn and his attendants separated from de wet's commando, and went in the direction of zoutpan to machadodorp. we were about seventy-five men in all. the little commando consisted of carts, a few trolleys, and horsemen on strong, well-conditioned horses. the free staters nearly all had one or two spare horses. our own commando still always consisted of twelve or thirteen men, and the small ambulance waggon which we used for provisions. the french doctor had remained behind with de la rey. we moved very fast. at zoutpan--a sunken kopje like the mouth of a crater, with a pan at the bottom, from which the salt is got--i met some old acquaintances, who pretended to have come there for salt. during our talk my suspicions were roused by their curiosity, and by their knowledge of president steyn's arrival. i also doubted their tale that their trolley stood behind a kopje, and not at zoutpan, and i warned the commandant against them. he became very anxious, and made us move on as rapidly as possible, for once we had crossed the pienaars river all danger from khaki would be past. it was a good thing that the commandant made us travel so fast, for we had only just outspanned at pienaars river the following morning when the khakies' bomb-maxim began firing at the outposts of general grobler's waterberg commando, which was stationed there. we had only just time to inspan and ride off to the boschveld, towards the olifants river, where we would be safe, while general grobler disappeared in the direction of warmbad. at pienaars river i made the acquaintance of general celliers, who was loudly proclaiming the way in which he would squash khaki if only the burghers would fight. he is the exception to the rule that all braggarts are cowards. most of the braggarts have gradually disappeared from the scene, but the deeds of this hero were always in accordance with his words. we heard afterwards that a detachment of the enemy had followed us, but we had had too great a start, and had besides taken a short-cut of which they knew nothing. it would not have been easy for the khakies to overtake a well-mounted commando like president steyn's. we were also told that the enemy knew of the arrival of president steyn, which strengthened my belief that the two suspicious characters at zoutpan were the informers. whenever we, as the attacking party, made prisoners, they always declared that they had known all about our plan of attack--probably to discourage us with the thought that through the treachery of our own people the enemy always knew all about our movements. for a long way we followed the same road that we had taken with commandant boshoff to rustenburg. we arrived safely at waterval-boven (president kruger having already retreated from machadodorp), where we stayed a few days and heard the famous battle of dalmanutha (august )--the most awful roar of cannon that i have ever heard. from waterval-boven we went to nelspruit, to which president kruger had moved in his railway-home. we gave our horses a week's rest and passed the time fishing and hunting. we were content there, as we got plenty to eat, and our horses, too, were well fed--an important matter to us just then. circumstances were forcing us to attach much value to all sorts of trifles that we would formerly not even have noticed. if once one has suffered the pangs of hunger, one learns to value the comfort and luxury of home; and if one has wandered about for weeks without seeing woman or child, one learns to appreciate their gentleness and charm and to understand schiller's züchtige hausfrau in 'das lied von der glocke.' how often in our wanderings we longed for good literature during our long, tiring, monotonous rides! and how terrible was the thought of the moral hurt we were suffering--voluntarily in a way, yet forced to it by a sense of honour and duty. for in this lay the grievousness of the war, that a powerful nation--influenced by a few unscrupulous leaders--was trying to annihilate a small nation that demanded the right of existence, and was therefore forced to defend that right. it was a happy time for us when we had the opportunity of turning our thoughts towards literature and other things than commando work. the privations that we had already endured were small indeed in comparison to those which awaited us. it was well with the uitlander optimist who remained in our country while the republics could give him the comforts he demanded as his right, but who, as soon as things went wrong, and he saw nothing but misery in the future, left for his own country--there to sit in judgment on our peasant-nation. how i long for the gift of being able to express myself, to give a true account of the self-denial of our burghers and of the misery that we endured! how my heart bleeds when i think of the great sorrow that has come upon my poor people! when the enemy approached the delagoa railway-line, president steyn left with his escort for hectorspruit. i had to follow with a trolley for which there was no room on the train. because of the disorder that reigned everywhere i had to wait nearly three days before i could start. i was pretty nearly famished on my arrival at hectorspruit, and ate greedily of the remains of the porridge left by some burghers, among whom were two sons of state secretary reitz. president steyn's lager had in the meanwhile become men strong, under commandant lategan, and was then at krokodil river. at nelspruit i met a couple of old friends, malherbe and celliers, with whom i left for the lager. they were both transvaalers who had been studying in holland, but had returned before finishing their studies on account of the war. the commando was well supplied with weapons and ammunition, as the delagoa bay line brought plenty to our store. what became of the rest i do not know, as president steyn was in a hurry and our commando left first for the north. the ford at krokodil river was about fifty paces wide--made for the occasion and difficult to cross. the trolleys and waggons that had to cross to the lager on the opposite side gave us much trouble, as they sank deep into the sand. we harnessed a double span of oxen to the waggons, undressed ourselves, and had to swim alongside the animals to get them through. occasionally something dropped from one of the waggons and had to be fished up in a hurry to save it from the strong current. there was much shouting and laughter, and if any crocodile had been in the neighborhood he would have suppressed his hunger until the storm was over. on the banks of the river there was a constant shooting at fish and game, and even at crocodiles, who showed themselves occasionally. there was game in abundance. it seemed as if all the game of the transvaal, that is becoming so scarce, had fled to this part. we were on our way to pietersburg through the boschveld of south-east lydenburg, which might be called a desert in winter. it was a journey difficult even for a trek boer, and more than difficult for a large commando. a man called bester was our guide. some two years before he had made the same journey on a hunting expedition, and now he was able to follow the ruts which the wheels of his waggon had made then, and which would be in all probability deepened by the summer rains. our means of transport were chiefly carts and trolleys, on which we also put our bedding to lighten the burden of our riding horses. viii with president steyn in the boschveld--lost on september we left the krokodil river early in the morning, after first watering our cattle and filling our water-bags. our guide did not expect to come across any water before the sabie--a river several days' journey further on. there were several springs on the way, but as that part of the country was so little known, because of its unhealthiness, no one could tell when the last rains had fallen. the shrubs and bushes had grown high above the ruts made by the waggon two years ago, and were a great hindrance to us. the road we followed twisted and wound rather more than was agreeable, but it was certainly easy to follow for the lagers that came after us. the horsemen rode next to the lagers to shoot bucks. we had no 'slaughter-cattle' with us, so had to live on the game that we shot. in the neighbourhood of the river we still came across birds and insects, but the further we went the more monotonous and _dead_ nature became. i could never have pictured such a lifeless wood to myself. no sound of insects was to be heard, no chirp or song of bird; and not even the trail of a serpent was to be seen. there was a melancholy stillness. traces of game were in abundance. it seemed as if only those animals lived there which, accustomed to the monotonous silence, withdrew noiselessly from the gaze of the interloper, or, in their ignorant curiosity, stood still until a hunter's bullet warned them or put an end to their lives. to them we must have been strange disturbers of the peace. shots fell in all directions; sometimes a whole salvo was discharged when we came upon a herd of bucks. there were many thornless trees growing in their stately height far above the usual scrub of the boschveld. our horses often grazed on the sweet buffalo grass that always grows under trees. looked at from a rise, the boschveld appeared to be nothing but trees--trees as far as the eye could see. one shuddered at the thought of what would become of anyone who lost his way there, since for miles and miles there was no water to be seen and no trail to go by. it made one hurry back to the safety of the lager, trusting to the capability of the guide. to our great joy, the first spring contained water. it was a large pool surrounded by rocks, where the game was accustomed to drink. we arrived there towards afternoon, rested a few hours, and continued our journey with fresh courage. as the waggons moved too slowly for our liking, we rode on ahead; but the consequence was that, when it got dark and we off-saddled, we had no bedding, for nearly all the waggons were obliged to outspan when darkness set in, as there was no road. we knee-haltered our horses in case there were lions about, and collected a large quantity of wood to keep the fire going all night. that night our talk, of course, ran upon lion-hunting and shooting expeditions. then we crept as close to the fire as possible, and were soon in a troubled, or untroubled, sleep, dreaming of lions and other wild animals. but i felt the cold very much, and could not sleep without my rug, and kept turning from side to side to get as much warmth from the fire as possible. if only i had made two fires! in a battle i have been between two fires, and did not find it at all agreeable, but in this case it would have been different. i lay awake, waiting for the third fire, the red dawn, but not in a poetical mood. there is a time for everything; that i learnt during the war. rain is lovely, and cold gives energy, but one must be warm to appreciate it. as i lay thus, four mules, tethered together, came closer and closer up to our fire, grazing all the while. i lay still, listening to the peculiar noise made by the biting off of each mouthful of grass. i seemed to expect a joke, and suddenly one of the mules fell on his back. in a moment all our heroes were up and ready to defend themselves against lions or khakies, according to their different dreams. i laughed, and laughed again, so that the hyenas could hear me a mile off, and the startled lion-hunters began to laugh also, so that we woke up the whole camp. this little episode made my blood circulate, so that i very soon also was in the land of dreams. as the burghers chased all the game on ahead of the lager, the president and commandant boshoff agreed to go in advance, so as to have a chance of seeing the numerous kinds of wild buck and larger game. i went with them. greatly to my distress i forgot to ask our guide what direction we would take that day with regard to the sun. an experienced hunter would not have forgotten it, as he knows from experience that in the excitement of the chase we often leave the beaten track. i had to pay dearly for my forgetfulness. i rode some distance to the left of the president, but took care to keep him in sight. but the boer is wonderfully disobedient to any authority, and not long after two men made their appearance to my left, and i saw that if i did not look out they would be ahead of me in no time, and chase all the game away from me. as the donga next to which we rode seemed to be a favourite resort for game, i took the same direction as they did, more to the left. the dongas ran into each other with numerous bends and curves, and were sometimes overgrown with high grass, then again quite bare. i paid no attention to the direction we took. after a while one of the men wounded a buck, and they both rode into the donga after it. i rode on, to cross the donga a little further on, so as not to have to follow in the track of the other two, and saw a red buck on the other side, which i wounded so badly that it seemed unnecessary to fire again, and i rode leisurely towards it. but when i had crossed the donga the buck had disappeared, and i began to seek for the traces of blood, but i soon had to give up the search, not to lose sight of the other two men. they, however, seemed to be a great distance off, as i did not overtake them, and i did not succeed in tracing them in the direction that the wounded buck had led them, as the track in the grass was invisible to my inexperienced eye. i rode back to the donga, and deliberated on the course to take. in all directions i heard shots, right and left, but i stood irresolute. i had no watch with me to find the four quarters of the wind, but the sun had only just risen, and i made a guess with an imaginary compass. it was lucky for me that i made such a good guess, and had paid great attention to the direction we had taken with regard to the sun. i was certain that i should come upon the traces of the lager if only i kept within the sides of a right angle, unless the lager had at the start taken a sharp turn to the right or left. but it was possible that in our excitement we might have crossed the waggon track which the lager was to follow; then the lager would be far to the right. standing thus like the ass between two bundles of hay, i was not in the mood to think lightly of my case, but had to act at once, so i chose the safest and more probable of the two sides of my right angle--namely, the left, as i would then in any case not be moving towards portuguese territory, and could always turn to the krokodil river. i felt pretty certain now, as it was more probable that we had not crossed the old waggon tract, and every moment i expected to hear the switching of the long whips. but when i had gone some distance i was obliged to return to the donga, and retrace my way to the place where we had slept. a clever boer would have succeeded in finding the way back, but i soon lost my way altogether. i lost the traces of the horse's hoofs, and the dongas looked to me so different that in one place where a donga branched off i did not know which to follow. an intense feeling of desolation took possession of me. lost in a wilderness without food or water! i thought of the twelve or thirteen men who got lost in this wood on a hunting expedition, and of whom only one was saved. a great fear came upon me. gradually i became calmer, and tried to form some plan of action. i resolved to keep to the left, where i had already seen a solitary mountain. perhaps water was to be found there. my gun was loaded with dum-dum bullets, specially prepared for bucks. i had filed through the steel to the lead, so that the bullet would expand at once when it came into contact with bone. i found a buck tame in its very wildness, but i missed it, for the aim of my gun, a fine sporting mauser, had been bent by the branches of the trees. it was a good thing that i did not come across a lion, or, rather, that a lion did not come across me. i had to ride under trees, through shrubs and grass, and had to keep a sharp look-out, as the king of beasts sometimes takes the lords of creation unawares. and i had to look out for an opportunity to shoot a buck--the only food within my reach. the nearer i came to the mountain, the surer i was that i had lost my way completely, and the more i became reconciled to my fate. i planned how i should build a large fire in the night for myself and my horse, and how i should defend myself against a lion with a burning piece of wood. suddenly my horse went faster and pushed to the left. greatly to my astonishment, i saw that the attraction was a little stream of water that he had scented in a donga. i off-saddled, and let my horse graze in the luxuriant grass. now i was strengthened in my belief that i had taken the wrong direction, for we were all under the impression that we should not soon reach water. i prepared some more dum-dum bullets with a small file that i carried in my pocket, and did not let my horse graze long, but hastened to the mountain to find a better shelter for the night. to my great joy, i came upon the wide road about a thousand paces further on. i followed the road along the mountain for half an hour, when i came upon the lager, camped near a stream--probably the same stream at which i and my horse had quenched our thirst. as we sat round our fires that night we heard shots fired in the distance from the direction that we had come. some men were sent out immediately, and returned after a while with a man quite exhausted from hunger and thirst, and paralyzed with fear; he had been unable to overtake the lager. ix practical hints--adventure on the sabie--north of lydenburg experience teaches us. the knowledge that we have gained in this war we must pass on to the coming generation. it may be of use in a war of the future, or on some other occasion. therefore oom dietlof will take this opportunity to give his nephews in south africa some practical hints that may be of use to a burgher in his travels or in a war. if anyone loses his way in the same way that i have just described, he must remember the following way of finding the four quarters of the wind: the small hand of a watch describes a circle in twelve hours, while the apparent movement of the sun round the earth is in twenty-four hours. the movement of the small hand is therefore twice as fast as that of the sun. if one points the small hand of a horizontal-lying watch to the sun at twelve o'clock, then the hands and the figure xii. lie in the meridian as well as the sun. in the northern half-circle the sun and the hands move in the same direction. in one hour's time the small hand goes a distance of °/ = °, and the sun goes a distance of °/ = °. if at one o'clock one points the small hand of a horizontal-lying watch to the sun, the line that divides the acute angle between the figures i. and xii. lies in the meridian. so one can always find the meridian. in the southern half-circle the sun and hands move in opposite directions, therefore one must point the figure xii. to the sun, and then divide the acute angle between the figure xii. and the small hand to find the meridian. in this way one can at any time find out the direction one has taken. but everyone has not always a good watch, and the sun sometimes hides behind the clouds. then it is better to have a good compass--but better still not to lose one's way. besides such simple articles as a pocket-knife, a water-bag, etc., which are indispensable to a traveller in our country, everyone ought to carry with him a good plaster, a nosebag, and some snake poison; maize (mealies) for his horse, the cheapest and most strengthening food that we know of, can always be carried in the nosebag. snake poison prepared by a good kaffir doctor is the only cure for snake-bites or the bite of any poisonous insect. the kaffirs prepare it from some (to us) unknown shrub, and from the poison of the most venomous snake, which they make into a powder. this powder is used as an antidote by swallowing a small dose--enough to cover the point of a pocket-knife--and also by applying some to the bite, after first having cut an opening into the bitten part with a pocket-knife. some people protect themselves against the poison of a snake-bite by regularly swallowing some of the poison and vaccinating themselves with it. one can even protect one's self in this way against the bite of the poisonous file-snake of the boschveld--a snake the shape of a three-cornered file, sometimes from to feet long. it is a fact that the person whose body is proof against the poison of a snake-bite is never bitten, as he is feared by snakes. formerly i doubted it, but i have myself seen people who have made themselves proof against a bite in this way, and i have also heard it from people in whom i have the utmost faith. alcohol is also a good antidote, provided one takes it immediately and in such quantities that it goes to the head. i would recommend everyone always to take a small quantity of brandy with him on commando, if experience had not taught me that some take even a mosquito-bite as an excuse to 'take a drop,' and i am against that on principle. often while loading my horse the thought struck me whether the poor brute ever had a wish to protest, 'surely this is becoming too bad!' and that reminds me that one must be very careful not to overload. the knapsack must not be filled with kaboe mealies (roasted maize) for one's self, while the nosebag of the poor horse remains empty. more than one prisoner of war has bitterly regretted that he did not take his horse's power of endurance into greater consideration. now i must take up the thread of my tale. the following morning the lager would start at three o'clock, and, as my horse was in good condition, the owner of the horse that had been left behind asked me to fetch it before the lager left. he explained to me where i would find it tied to a tree about half an hour's ride from the lager, so i started with a friend at about two o'clock at night. on the way we came across a mule that had wandered away while grazing, ignorant of all the danger he was exposing himself to in the uninhabited boschveld. the creature gave us much trouble by refusing to be caught and constantly dodging behind a tree, so we lost a great deal of time. on our way back, close to the lager, we heard the whine of the wild-dog, the well-known feared wolf. we thought it very interesting to come across a wild animal of which we had no fear just then. but when we reached the camping-ground of the lager, where only the trolley stood to which the wandering mule belonged, we found to our surprise that both white men and kaffirs had given up the search for the mule for fear of the wild-dog. they had all congregated round large fires. the wild-dog, however, is harmless by himself; like the khakies, his strength lies in numbers. we had to leave the sick horse to join the bucks of the boschveld on its recovery, until the horse-sickness came. after a long, tiring, but very interesting ride we arrived at the sabie, where the rest of the lager was already encamped. the sabie is about the size of the krokodil river, and its scenery of woods and valleys formed a sharp contrast to the deadly monotony of the boschveld that lay behind us. we had crossed the bare desert and were now in a part of the country inhabited by kaffirs. the following day the lager was removed half an hour further on, and there we remained a few days. at night four of us were persuaded to go eel-catching in a crocodile-pool that we had discovered a little further on. we made a large fire to entice the eels, and, as we were none of us great lovers of angling, we made a splendid bonfire, as there was plenty of dry wood to be had. there was something particularly attractive in these large fires on those quiet, dark nights of the wilderness. the glow threw a sombre light on the water that gave one a creepy feeling, as if a crocodile were on the watch for us in the water, and lions at our back between the large trees. what must they have thought of us? the bank of the river seemed to be about feet high, and not very steep. we made the fire closer and closer to what seemed the bank. i saw someone lift up a huge branch, walk to the bank with it, and plant his left foot firmly on the ground. the reeds gave way beneath him. what seemed a firm bank, by the glow of the fire, proved to be a mass of reeds and grass, and the poor man fell down a height of feet, his fall being hastened by the heavy branch he held. for a moment we stood irresolute. to jump after him into a crocodile-pool! but he called for help, and we had to act immediately. fortunately, one acts almost instinctively in such cases. one of the others slid down the bank--the thought striking him: 'if only there are not two crocodiles!' landing on a horizontal branch, he stretched out his hand to the drowning man, someone else took hold of his left hand, and so they were both saved. if a crocodile had been in the neighbourhood, he would probably have stood on the defensive. such a queer, two-legged animal who led the attack in such a strange but decided way must have roused his respect. this piece of fun put an end to our eel-fishing. we had caught only one eel--and a man. the following morning there was parade for president steyn. his speech to us was touching and to the point, and showed that he believed in a good ending to the war, if the burghers were capable of enduring such hardships as at present. then he also told us in what a hurry he was to reach his burghers, as he was afraid that the enemy were doing all in their power to make them turn against him. we all liked president steyn very much. on our journey through the selatie goldfields, past the marietje river to pilgrim's rest, we crossed the steepest mountain that i have ever seen. a double span of oxen was harnessed to each waggon. the oxen were lent us for the occasion by the boers living on the plateau in front of us. after every few steps upwards we had to put stones under the wheels to prevent the waggons from slipping back. it took our little lager nearly all day to reach the plateau. then we had a most magnificent view of the boschveld that lay behind us. in the distance the lobombo mountains were visible on the boundary of the portuguese and transvaal territory. the first rains had fallen on the plateau, so the green grass was a refreshing change for our eyes. the horses would be able to graze well, and the good feeding would soon make them lose their old coats, and then they would be sleek and glossy again. from the high plateau we descended, over a 'lumpy' veld, with an oasis here and there in a hole or valley, or on the top of a hill, to pilgrim's rest. some miles before we reached this little town we passed beside the water-works that supply a strong stream of water for the machinery of the gold-mines. we simply stormed the shops, that were still well supplied with provisions, and bought all sorts of luxuries and necessaries for our journey. from pilgrim's rest we once more crossed a steep mountain, along a road that for length and height has not its equal. in the neighbourhood of ohrigstad, a little town that we left to our right, i asked a boer woman whether the fever did not make one's life impossible there, and i got a very naïf reply: 'no; this year the fever was not so bad. we all got ill, but not one of us died.' the rest of our journey to the north of lydenburg, over spekstroom river, along watervalop, over steenkampsberg to roossenekal, was very tedious. the uninhabited boschveld was very interesting, and we had sufficient provisions then, but the poor, uncivilized boer inhabitants of the lydenburg district were unable to supply us with necessaries, the want of which we were beginning to feel. we could not buy a loaf of bread anywhere. and it is anything but pleasant in a time of war to come across such lax and unenergetic people as they proved to be. the men were nearly always at home, and appeared to be discouraged and unwilling to fight. we had all lost our sweet tooth. that one could tell by such expressions as: 'even if you give me sugar:--' but occasionally we got a more desirable substitute, when a beehive was discovered in a cleft of a rock. some of our men are particularly clever at discovering a hive. i have often seen a man stand gazing up at the sky, walk on a short distance, and again stand gazing, and after awhile appear with a bucket of honey. by watching the flight of the bees they find out in what direction the hive is. a practised eye can see the rising and settling of the bees above the hive from a great distance. x from roossenekal to pietersburg--with general beyers to the magalies mountains we went in a very different direction from that of general ben viljoen's commando, which took the road to pietersburg through leydsdorp. president steyn celebrated the anniversary of his birthday at roossenekal, and addressed us in the same spirit as on the former occasion at the sabie. roossenekal is famous for its caves, or grottos, in which the mapochers hid themselves so well during the mapoch war. we made use of the opportunity to visit the grottos, of whose formation i should like to know more. what appeared on the outside to be an ordinary hill proved a most wonderful natural building containing many rooms. the old kraal walls and the peach-trees and 'turkish figs', (prickly-pears), overgrown by wild trees, and an occasional earthen vessel, were the remains of the kaffir city. of course we cut our names into the rocks by way of becoming immortal. we could not help speaking with great admiration of the wild kaffir tribe who from such a hiding-place fought for months for a life of independence. we had no time to visit the grottos further away. although our horses were well fed during this time of rest, they profited little, on account of the constant cold rains that fell. we fortunately still had some tents, that we used only in case of rain. our commandant was still always in doubt whether to proceed to pietersburg, for we were quite ignorant of the enemy's movements during the last few weeks. later on, when he got the information that the enemy were stationed at pinaars river bridge, and that we could not with safety pass warmbad and pinaars river, we had to turn off at kobaltmyn to the right to cross olifants river lower down. we had already passed kobaltmyn in the beginning of july on our journey after general de la rey. the latter part of our journey, along olifants river, through zebedelsland to pietersburg, was exhausting for man and horse. some of us often had nothing but a little rice and a small piece of meat for several days in succession. there was scarcely any grass for our horses, and yet we had to ride hard night and day. after a tiring journey of fully a month, president steyn's commando arrived at pietersburg on october . although we had always intended to follow president steyn to de wet, my brother and i, with malherbe, now accepted an invitation from my uncle, ignace maré, to stay awhile on his farm at marabastad. president steyn left with his commando for nylstroom. our horses were worn out, and could not follow the commando. most of the men had a spare horse that was still in good condition, and although my brother and i had only one horse apiece, we often had to do the hardest work. my aunt and uncle did their best to make our stay a pleasant one, and our horses were well fed. soon general ben viljoen's commando arrived at marabastad, and stayed there a few weeks, so that we also experienced the discomfort arising from a lager camped on one's farm. the boer is deprived by it of all necessaries, and all sorts and conditions of men constantly visit his house. some of them, the riff-raff of the commando, are very unwelcome guests, for they do much mischief intentionally, and thereby give the commando a very bad name. the poles to which the wire is attached for camping at a farm were yet left undamaged. the burghers were still accustomed to get plenty of dry wood in the boschveld, and were not yet so demoralized as to work damage without scruple. we stayed at my uncle's far longer than we at first intended. my saddle had chafed the horse's back so severely that i could not ride it for several months. my brother got an attack of malaria, and just as he was recovering had a relapse, so that president steyn was so far in advance of us that there was no question of overtaking him. the commando had already left marabastad when we started for tweefontein, near warmbad, on our now strong, sleek horses. there we joined commandant kemp, of the krugersdorp commando, under wyk iii., who had parted from ben viljoen at marabastad because the latter had on a sunday afternoon during service fired off several cannon-shots for the edification of a few fast women. malherbe, my brother, and i formed a sort of comradeship under corporal botman--or, to put it simply, we were 'chums.' at warmbad we heard many interesting things about the khakies, who had stayed there nineteen days on their hunt after de wet. we could not understand why they destroyed the bathing-houses, unless it were to deprive our wounded of the chance of recovery. the condition of the people in zoutpansberg and in waterberg, where the enemy had been, was not very cheerful. everyone complained that there was no sugar to be had, that the meal was getting low, and that soon there would be no clothes. pietersburg was exhausted by the commandos, and the courage of the inhabitants was nearly at an ebb. they would not yet make the sacrifice that would part them from their families. the enemy had not yet driven them to despair by the destruction of their fields and goods. every sensible person knew that the republics would lose in the long-run in a guerilla war unless something unforeseen happened. at the time that we fled from pretoria my mother said she would have hope as long as her 'gorillas' remained in the veld. even if we clung to a straw, the possibility always remained that things might take a favourable turn as long as a fair number of burghers remained in the veld. the burghers from the different districts now in waterberg were earnest and full of courage. noticeable changes for the better had been made. beyers, a man in whom the men had the utmost faith, was made assistant-commandant-general, and was to lead a commando of , horsemen from waterberg, zoutpansberg, krugersdorp, etc., to the hoogeveld. the discipline was much stricter. cooper and fanie grobler, who had been accused of high treason, promised to keep a sharper look-out for spies and traitors. and we still always hoped for an eventual rebellion in cape colony. that hope was our life-buoy on which we kept our eyes fixed. we felt that there our safety lay, and the enthusiasm of the commando was heightened by the desire to celebrate paardekraal day in krugersdorp on december . as a sailor longs for the sea, so we longed for a meeting with the khakies when we left for the magalies mountains in the beginning of december. our commando was light and mobile, with provisions for a short time only. such heavy cannon as the long toms were of no use to us now. hence-forward we were to live on the produce of the surrounding country, as there was no basis from which we were to operate. besides this, the khakies very kindly made over some of their provisions, arms, and ammunition to us in a skirmish or battle, so that afterwards we had more lee-metfords than mausers in our possession. at krokodil river i had the privilege of seeing how a honey-bird takes a human being to a bees' nest. as we were lying under a tree, a honey-bird settled close to us. corporal botman followed it as it flew chirping from tree to tree, and called to it that he was following, until the bird stopped at the hive. the grateful finder always rewards the bird with a piece of honeycomb that he puts aside for it. but i have never been able to discover whether the bird or the insects eat the honey. i know that the 'bug-birds,' that are always seen on or near cattle, do not feed on the bugs with which the cattle are covered, but on the locusts that fly about the herd. last week, when our guards took us for a walk outside the fort, i noticed that a kind of sparrow in india has the same trick of catching the locusts that are driven on ahead by the cattle. i shall not try to give a description of the works of the machinery that moved mechanically to the magalies mountains, for i should have to guess at the particulars in this historical little tale. mechanical i call the journey, for there were days and nights in which we were numbed, body and soul, exhausted by hunger and thirst and want of sleep. when we were at bethany, a convoy of the enemy was seen moving in the direction of commandonek. when it noticed our guard, it dragged its curved body with great zeal through the pass. i think the khakies also must have been bored to death on those long, fruitless journeys. we left bethany towards evening, and reached the magalies mountains the following morning after a tiring journey in the night past sterkstroom, through the kromriverskloof to the foot of onuapadnek, or boschfonteinnek. (i learnt the names from the inhabitants.) in the kloof we passed the burnt remains of the convoy that was taken by commandant boshoff--who joined de la rey after having taken steyn to his destination--and his brave little troop of burghers. they were obliged to abandon the convoy, however, on the arrival of reinforcements for the enemy. a sickening stench came from the corpses that they had left unburied in their flight. we rested a few hours at the top of the steep nek. on descending on the other side we came, to our mutual surprise, upon de la key's lager at the foot of the mountain on barnard's farm. xi battle of nooitgedacht we were busy all evening baking vet-koek (a kind of scone fried in lard), as we had received the order to be ready to leave the following morning at one o'clock, and to take provisions sufficient for two days. although our officers were beginning to see the advisability of keeping their plans secret, we were able to guess that we were going to attack general clements' camp, an hour's ride further east at nooitgedacht--particularly as the chances of success, in case of an eventual attack, were being discussed by some of the officers. the general opinion was that clements' force was , strong. we left quite three-quarters of an hour later than the fixed time in the early morning of december , , and recrossed the steep, narrow neck, took a way to our right in the kromriverskloof, making a sharp turn to elandskrans, where a strong outpost had been placed by the enemy on the magalies mountains. that was the crust through which we had to bite to get at the dainties of the booty. it cannot be denied that victory and booty, in our impoverished circumstances, were very close together in our thoughts. the enemy's camp lay at the foot of the long, high cliff that forms a precipice on that side of the mountain, while the slope of the mountain on our side was not steep, and there were a great many footholds and boulders. the artillery had been left in the neck of the pass to protect the lagers. beyers, with some zoutpansbergers, turned away from us to the right to reach elandskrans along the mountain ridge. it appeared, therefore, that beyers and kemp were going to make the attack from the north, with , men, and that kemp had the centre and the left wing. we were again too late. the sun had risen when we began the attack. corporal botman was ordered by kemp to surround the extreme right of the enemy's right wing, with thirty men. we had to storm the left to enclose the enemy in the half-circle. we were exposed to a rain of bullets, and had to storm through ravines and reefs, sometimes racing our horses, then leading them, and making use of every cover. general beyers, with his splendid sharp-shooters, was already in hot action with the right wing, and commandant kemp in the centre had forced his way close to the enemy. we tied our horses together behind a reef, left them in charge of a few men, and advanced, spreading ourselves in groups of three, four and five. a moment of extreme anxiety followed. not to expose ourselves unnecessarily, we had to peep from behind the rocks, shoot the course clear, and run to the next cover. malherbe and i stayed as close as possible to our cool, collected, brave corporal, and we had to gasp for breath sometimes if trying to keep up to him. the others forced their way upwards more to the left, and so formed the furthest left point of the half-moon. while the three of us were pushing our way from position to position into the neighbourhood of the few khakies who already dared not raise their heads from behind the rocks, i noticed, some paces to our front, a number of khakies moving in our direction. i warned malherbe to keep up his courage, as the enemy were getting reinforcements. a moment later, while our corporal had again moved onwards, i noticed several khakies on a stone ridge some paces in front of us. it appeared that they were driven on by part of the centre and right wing, for just then two men made their appearance, whom i at once recognised as boers from the colour of their clothes and the quick way in which they aimed at me. i stooped quick as a hare, and immediately rose again. the enemy now surrendered, i believe to the number of two or three hundred of the northumberland fusiliers, called the 'fighting fifth' on account of their courage and bravery. we also took on the mountain a heliograph that the enemy had broken. the khakies acknowledged that we had taken the position with the greatest possible speed. we were in the majority. but it must not be forgotten that we were the attacking party and had to expose ourselves, and also that, although the battle on the mountain extended over a long line, our right wing had still to reckon with the reinforcements that were sent up through a narrow kloof from the camp. it was a repetition of selikatsnek. the khakies had the good positions, and we had good cover behind the rocks on the mountain slope. in such a case he is no match for us. we went on a few hundred paces over pretty level ground, and then looked down upon the camp at the foot of the mountain, which consisted of several hundreds of tents and many waggons. some of these waggons were inspanned, some were already retreating, but most of them were not yet inspanned. the camp lay on the grounds and by the fields of a deserted farm. afterwards i heard that commandant badenhorst, of pretoria (who had attacked the enemy before our arrival, at the foot of the mountain, and so suffered the greatest loss), was already retreating, but, hearing the fighting on the mountain, had renewed his attack. the enemy could not stand the fire that we opened upon them, and had to retreat from the camp in the direction of commandonek. the inevitable consequence was that the troops on the west, opposite de la rey, had to retreat hurriedly so as not to be cut off by the wedge that was forcing its way along the mountains into the camp. they were far beyond reach of our bullets. where de la rey's cannon were, and why they did not make themselves heard, i do not know. neither do i know why general smuts did not cut off the retreat of the enemy to the south-east. they had placed a few cannon to our left in the valley, and bombarded us fiercely on the mountain without much result. the balls of a small maxim flew past us with a hissing sound and hindered us in our aim. the waggons that were inspanned fled in the direction of commandonek, and halted in the valley at a respectful distance from us. although the camp appeared to be almost deserted, a continual firing was heard below us. i could not make out from where it came until i suddenly discovered several small troops of horsemen who galloped at intervals from behind a wall in the shade of some trees. they were in all probability left there as cover for the waggons. the few shots we fired at them missed their aim. we saw de la rey's burghers capture a large herd of cattle. while malherbe and i were peering from behind our hurriedly erected entrenchment, and occasionally firing a few shots, i discovered four or five brave khakies busy dragging along an ammunition waggon, or a gun; from such a distance we could not distinguish which. we fired at them with a sight of paces, but did not hit them, as the horizontal distance to the camp was not more than paces, and we should have used a sight of paces, but the height of the mountain was very misleading. immediately afterwards a span of mules came in the direction of the supposed gun, so malherbe and i retreated as fast as we could, to find a better cover more to the left. it is strange how in a battle one always has an idea that all the threatened danger is aimed specially at one's self. we had to be on the look-out not to fire at our own people, some of whom were already in the camp. my brother, malherbe, and i went to the narrow kloof that i have already mentioned, after a fruitless search for our horses, which had meanwhile been taken to the entrance of the kloof, and i heard from my brother that our brave general had been wounded in the leg by a shell. during the search for our horses we had noticed a long dust-cloud at the end of kromriverskloof, near buffelspoort, moving from rustenburg in the direction of commandonek--in all probability reinforcements for the enemy, arriving too late. the waterbergers and zoutpansbergers, who were most undisciplined, had descended through the kloof in quest of booty. but the krugersdorpers, formerly notorious for their rough behaviour, were now the most orderly, and did not descend before all the men were collected. the kloof was strewn with bodies of khakies, who were sent up as reinforcement and pitilessly shot down by the burghers. the little stream of water was red with blood, so that we could not even quench our thirst. some of the khakies had fallen from the high cliffs, where they had to lie unburied--like the soldiers on amajuba in . we led our horses to the opening of the kloof, and then galloped into camp under the thundering noise of the shells that the enemy were firing at us from the distance. there was no control possible among the burghers. each one loaded his horse with whatever he could lay his hands on, and there was no thought of following up the retreating enemy. they did not leave us undisturbed in our glory, but aimed lyddite at us, which had the desired effect, that we in our disorder did not storm the front positions, but retreated in the direction of our camp, a quarter of a mile in among the trees. there veld-kornet klaassen ordered his men to off-saddle and give the horses a rest. meanwhile the camp was burnt, flames arose in all directions, and thousands of cartridges exploded. after we had watered our horses in a neighbouring spruit we lay down to rest. but ere long general de la rey came galloping into our midst with a lash in his hand, calling to us whether we were not ashamed to lie there doing nothing, instead of following up our advantage now that we had the chance, when otherwise the enemy would ill-treat our women and children and burn down our homes. one of our corporals rather impertinently informed de la rey that he served under another general, and would obey no orders but his. de la rey thereupon rode up to him and gave him a heavy cut with his lash. i went up to the general, and told him that we were quite willing to fight, and had only off-saddled for a rest by order of our field-cornet. in his rage he lifted his lash, but, recognising me, lowered it again. if i had aimed at getting a cut from him, i might have called out like the dutch farmers, who got a box on the ear from peter the great for pressing too closely upon him while he was building ships at zaandam: 'i have had one too! i have had one too!' we then rode with the general to the burnt camp. the enemy had not found the game worth the candle, and had saved their shell for a more favourable occasion. one can imagine de la rey's indignation when he saw that waggons, provisions, and ammunition were nearly all burnt. he pointed out to us how ammunition and guns were required on every side. general beyers, whom we met there, excused himself by explaining that he had ordered only those things to be burnt that we did not require. we then rode to the other positions on the opposite side of the camp, but the enemy were in full flight, followed by an occasional burgher. i do not consider myself able to criticise the manner in which our officers organized this battle. but it was easy to see that a great mistake had been made. we had much to be thankful for, but the result might have been more advantageous to us. the whole camp with all its cannon should have been taken with a smaller loss than eighty men killed and wounded. i do not know the number of the enemy's killed and wounded. if our first attack had been made unanimously and unexpectedly, we could easily have crushed the enemy. the prisoners, as usual, pretended that they knew all about our plans, but why, then, were their reinforcements too late, or, rather, why did they never arrive? when general de la rey organizes an attack, and his instructions are well carried out, the burghers have so much confidence in him, and like him so well, in spite of, or perhaps because of his violent temper, that they never have any doubt as to his ultimate success. the prisoners were released. in my presence they were always well treated, and i have seen many khaki prisoners who have never on any occasion been ill-treated. xii paardekraal day--battle in the moat--attack on kaalfontein station from onuapadnek our lagers went to the farm rietfontein, near witwatersrandjes, where we celebrated paardekraal day on december --under sad circumstances, alas! ds. kriel, who constantly accompanied us in the most self-denying manner, in all our battles and on all our long journeys, led us in prayer that day. halfway up the kopje, which we climbed in most solemn earnest, he offered up a prayer to god, and then impressed upon us the importance of the occasion. on the top of the kopje he held a short service. it reminded me of that which my own father held for the assembled burghers at paardekraal in . how true and faithful he was in his position as preacher to the fighting men, and how well he served his adopted country! after general de la rey, smuts, kemp, and mr. naudé had all addressed us, ds. kriel read out a document in which was expressed, in a few words, the purpose each one of us should attach to his contribution of a stone towards the monument to be erected there. he exhorted the burghers not to add a stone to the pile unless they fully understood and were in earnest about its meaning. so the old covenant was renewed in a different place under different circumstances and in a different manner from the paardekraal day of former years, and when the burghers descended from the kopje they were strengthened by the renewing of an ancient pledge in their resolution to fight to the last for their country and their people. the place where the monument was erected was called ebenhaëzer. between the magalies mountains and the witwatersranden stretches a long valley called the moat. in the centre runs a gray ridge or rand, parallel to the mountains, and rising into kopjes to the east, near hekpoort. thither our commando moved a few days later to meet the enemy, who were approaching from commandonek, most probably with revengeful intentions. the moat was well provided with corn, and asked for our protection. we stayed over a day on the gray ridge. when the enemy advanced towards us on the day following, general de la rey had taken up his position near nooitgedacht, and so formed the left wing. commandant kemp, with his men, was at the south on the foot of the ridge, and veld-kornet van tender, with a small troop of zoutpansbergers, was on the first kopje, while general beyers, with the waterbergers and zoutpansbergers held the right wing to the west of hekpoort, in witwatersrand. the whole of that forenoon the enemy were ready to attack us, and we waited calmly. towards afternoon their left wing moved towards the first kopje, beyond the reach of the zoutpansbergers, who were on the witwatersranden near hekpoort. they began firing at the position of veld-kornet van tonder, and when he fell mortally wounded his zoutpansbergers were obliged to retire from the kopje. our veld-kornet, kruger, a fine, brave fellow, then led twenty-five of our men towards hekpoort, to try and stop the enemy in their forward movement. as malherbe, my brother, and i were among the twenty-five, i cannot tell what happened to de la rey on the other side of the gray ridge. we pressed too far forward, and soon had to retreat some distance. our veld-kornet stayed behind with a few of us, on a small rise, while our horses were taken some paces further back, and the rest of our little troop rode in the direction of hekpoort. the enemy already occupied the first kopje, and were firing at us from a distance. we quickly made an entrenchment of stones and lay waiting. but our people were retreating from the other kopjes, and we had to get to our horses as quickly as possible. a few cowardly burghers on the ridge took us for khakies and fired at us. then i experienced the difference between the aim of boer and khaki. the latter's bullets always flew far above our heads, but the former's fell terribly close to us. as yet we had retired in good order, but soon we fled in a panic. the enemy had come from krugersdorp in very large numbers, and already occupied the high witwatersranden behind us. whoever has an incapable horse had better hide in a ditch or behind a wall along with the poor, frightened women. more than once i have seen poor frightened women holding their crying children by the hand, and seeking a hiding-place near their houses during a battle. it is indeed a tragic sight!--we men, with our weapons in our hands, not able to defend them at such a time. and then a great feeling of shame came upon us. these same women had only the day before called down god's blessing upon us, and now they cried to us to hurry, or we would be surrounded. we rode at a flying gallop for fully half an hour--along the magalies mountains, between the witwatersranden and the many smaller banks, while to the left the enemy were descending and firing at us. the waterbergers and zoutpansbergers, who learnt later than we did that the enemy were surrounding us, would all have been taken prisoners had they not forced their way bravely through thick and thin. as far as we can tell, our loss was, fortunately, only one killed. at the manharen, a peculiar kind of kopje, we halted, but had to retreat further towards evening. beyers' commando moved in the direction of gatsrand, but had to turn to zwartruggens, near rustenburg, when it reached the farm modderfontein, where we celebrated christmas. the enemy was constantly at our heels, and made things hot for us; we often had to hurry most inconveniently not to be surrounded or cut off. we got a few days' rest on the farm vlakhoek. we were camped near a small stream, and went from there to the different farms in search of the first fruit of the season. on new year's eve general beyers' commando moved on the wide hard krugersdorp road. the bullock waggon lager had been left behind, as it prevented us from moving as quickly as was sometimes necessary. the burghers still longed to attack krugersdorp, and on new year's eve, as we moved fast in the direction of the town, our hearts were cheered by the thought of jameson's failure, when five years ago he passed along the same road in his notorious raid. we all hoped to add an immortal page to the annals of our history on the following new year's day. but we were sadly disappointed in our expectations. the jameson raid was not avenged, and we celebrated new year's day calmly and peacefully at cyferbult, on pretorius' farm, with milie-pap (maize meal porridge) and beef and--green fruit! whenever we came to a farm we ate as much green fruit as possible by way of a change in our diet. on other occasions it would have been very bad for us, but now it seemed to have a very wholesome effect. as we moved on past zwartkop over the krokodil river in the direction of the railway, we realized that there was no chance of attacking krugersdorp for the present, for general beyers had apparently changed his plans. we were quite sure that it had originally been his intention, and some of our officers talked of the attack on the town as if it were an open secret. our capable veld-kornet, kruger, had remained behind at zwartkop to get the burghers of wyk iii. krugersdorp from out of their hiding-places, as the generals wanted to concentrate all the small bands for some great undertaking. we joined wyk i. krugersdorp under veld-kornet klaassen. near hekpoort, as we were camped at dwarsvlei, we attacked a convoy of the enemy in the valley, and very nearly captured it before it was reinforced. i was not present, so cannot give any account of the battle. after a sharp trek of more than one night, we crossed the rails between kaalfontein and zuurfontein stations, just before sunrise one morning towards the middle of january. we captured a few guards who seemed to know nothing of our movements. why general beyers did not surprise one or both stations that morning early is still a mystery to us, as our movements were remarkably quick. it could not have been because he thought us too tired, for some twenty minutes further on, while we were resting on a farm, he ordered part of our lager to turn to the left and attack kaalfontein station. our corporal was unwilling to work us and our horses to death, so he first got breakfast ready. but when our cannon began to roar and corporal botman, who still limped from a wound, rode off without a word in his own peculiar way, our conscience began to trouble us, and several of our men followed him. my brother, whose horse's back was chafed, remained in the lager with the rest of the burghers. when we reached our guns, we immediately saw that the station could be taken only at the cost of many lives--more than the success would be worth. our guns had not the desired effect, and we should have had to charge across an open space without any cover. the enemy had no guns. they say our left wing very nearly succeeded in taking a small fort near the station, but i cannot give any particulars, for our veld-kornet rode with a small troop of burghers to the right of the station, and took another small fort which the enemy had abandoned because it was too far away from the station. what might have been expected happened. towards afternoon an armoured train came from pretoria, and reinforcements arrived from johannesburg and scattered our left wing over the valley. i happened to be with a few others on the outmost point of the right wing of attack--or, rather, since the scene was changed, of the left wing of flight. and as we were retreating at our ease an old man galloped towards us and pointed out that we were retreating in the wrong direction, as the enemy had captured our whole lager. he had never in his life seen so many khakies. they seemed to be on all sides of us. the only outlet for us was in the direction of heidelberg. i asked him, 'uncle, are you sure that our lager is in the hands of the khakies?' to which he answered, 'nephew, i saw with my own eyes how they rode up to the waggons and made all our people "hands up!"' and he continued to give us a minute description of the occurrence. if we had been greenhorns, we would have blindly followed the startled old man right through the stream of retreating burghers and exploding -pounders. but, fortunately, the war had taught us, and we moved on _with_ the stream, but a little more to the left, and, i cannot deny it, with a feeling of great anxiety as to what was to become of us if the old man had indeed told the truth. fortunately, it appeared that fright had made the old man believe his own imagination, and the lager was quite safe. my brother told me that the slight attack made upon them by the enemy was easily beaten off. the opinion of the majority was that we should have left kaalfontein station alone. we were thoroughly exhausted by our rapid journeys, particularly by the journey of the preceding night, and besides that the burghers were unwilling to make an attack of which they did not see the advantage. we had several killed and wounded. the consequence was that we had to trek that night in a way that none of us will ever forget, to get beyond the reach of the enemy. one cannot imagine how terrible it is to sit for hours on horseback, dead tired and overcome by sleep. we did not even guide our horses; they simply jogged along mechanically, too tired even to object to ill-treatment. our hands rested on the bows of the saddles, and as we sat leaning forwards, apparently lost in thought, but in reality suffering tortures from the effort to keep awake, we forced ourselves to look up and about us, but our eyes half closed in the effort, and everything about us took a strange shape, and the sky became chaos; with a nod we half awoke, only to dream again a second later that we were falling from our horses. not a word was spoken, for everyone was dozing. whenever we had to wait for our guns or waggons, we simply flung ourselves on the grass with one arm through our bridles, and soon we were unconscious of the pulling and tugging of the horse, and if the order to mount woke us up, the tugging had ceased, and our horses were calmly grazing some distance from us. then we lifted our bodies, loaded with cartridges and guns, into the saddle at the risk of toppling over on the other side, like a lizzard sliding down a bank, and rode on in silence, drowsily and top-heavy. xiii commando sufferings the horsemen rode generally two by two, partly in front of the waggons as advance-guard, and behind as rear-guard, each corporal with his men in his place by his veld-kornet. the krugersdorpers were no longer allowed to leave their places before they had permission from their corporal. even those burghers who were most disorderly in the beginning now saw the necessity of discipline, and were obedient to the commands of their officers. it was a mixed crew of old and young. but the majority were still in the prime of life, and proof against the privations of guerilla life. the old men among us were all men whose powerful constitutions were yet unbroken. it was praiseworthy of them that in their old age they were willing to suffer the difficulties and dangers of a wandering life for their country's sake, for although their constitutions were strong, they were susceptible to cold and damp, the effects of which they could not shake off. there were also many brave little boys, who were thus early initiated into the privations of commando life; but they shared all bravely, in a careless spirit of adventure. here and there were some uitlanders who had remained faithful to us. all the others had gradually disappeared, either because they were taken prisoners, or killed through their somewhat foolhardy courage, or because they had left the country in disappointment. the townspeople were by no means superior to the farmers. there were traitors and 'hands-uppers' among them as well. we have been bitterly disappointed in people of all classes, but particularly in the so-called 'gentlemen.' our condition and appearance were indeed striking. during the heat of the day, when the dust lay thickly about us, we sat in our ragged clothes, with shaggy, uncombed beards, on our poor, hardly-treated ponies, meekly staring in front of us, seemingly indifferent to the moral hurt that we were suffering and the physical pain that we felt in all our limbs after a long, tiring ride. at the start of one of our journeys an animated conversation sometimes helped to pass the time, but it soon flagged, leaving us staring in front of us in the usual dispirited, dull way. our talk became daily more prosaic and superficial. we had not the energy to express our deepest sentiments, and things which were formerly pleasant were strange to us now. we had no spur to enliven our thoughts in our monotonous life. to the careless there was nothing startling in this moral numbness, but the more sensitive among us grieved over it, and were humiliated by the shallowness that had come into our lives. the small necessaries of our material existence had become essential to our happiness. if we lost a knife, or if a pot or kettle broke, or a mug was stolen from us, we were depressed for days, as if a heavy blow had fallen upon us. it was not easy to fight against that bitter feeling of depression. our only safety lay in the fact that we were conscious of the demoralizing effect of these small disappointments of commando life, for to know one's self is always the first step towards conversion. some qualities of our highest nature were systematically suppressed. we prided ourselves on our fierce hatred of the enemy, and considered it a mark of patriotism, and we rejoiced when he fell beneath our bullets or when the plague broke out. we even wished that a great european war might begin, if only we might keep our country, and as a consequence of our righteous patriotism an inclination to cruelty became one of the predominant traits in the character of the burghers. the commando life tended to make many of us melancholy. wherever we came the thought was forced upon us that our beloved country was deeply injured, morally and materially. we ourselves saw everywhere homes and fields destroyed, women and children taken away by force, and cattle stolen; and rumours told of the most terrible outrages committed upon helpless women and children. if it were not that one becomes hardened to all outward impressions, our commando life would have been pitiful indeed. so we became hardened to almost all these things, but the thought of the ill-treatment of those dear to us, on whose happiness our own happiness depends, was constantly with us, and to that we did not become hardened. it is impossible to enter into the sufferings of the married men. much was suffered in silence. some men got messages from their wives imprisoned in refugee camps, bidding them surrender for the sake of their wives, since fighting was of no avail and the country was already lost. who shall blame the man who rides away with an anxious heart to his wife and children, no matter what the consequences may be to himself? another woman, with a different disposition and a different heart, sends word secretly to her husband that life in the prison camp is endurable, and that he must fight to the end. then he stays, and proves himself worthy of the courage of his wife. some men gave the impression that they were indifferent to the suffering of wife and child. these were the scum of our people, who in time of peace were not of much importance, but were necessary for our fight. but the majority, by far the greater majority, were men who, even in the most troubled times, were faithful to the comrades with whom they began this struggle, the struggle for our independence. whenever we came to a 'uitspanplek' (a place where there is water to be found for the horses), some of us had to seek hurriedly for wood to make the fire, others to fetch water, and others to help in various ways. it was a regular struggle for existence. those who came first got the least disagreeable work. wood was scarce on the hoogeveld where we happened to be, and the water was muddied by the first water-carriers. when the sun was very warm we made a shelter with our guns and our blankets. our meals were simple. they consisted of meat and 'mealie-pap' morning, noon, and night, often for weeks without salt. we made coffee of burnt grain ground in a coffee-mill. during the war we learnt to drink all sorts of coffee--of wheat, oats, barley, sweet potatoes, maize, and even of peaches. we became so accustomed to a simple mode of life that our wants were few indeed. even sugar we no longer missed. and we remained healthy and strong. we lay in small groups round the fires, leaning against our saddles. our moods were brighter after our tired bodies had had the needful refreshment and rest. the groups were often picturesque, some of us lying at our ease with soiled books in hands, others grouped round the fire, every now and again adding wood to the flames, and others, again, picking mites out of the biltong with a pocket-knife. a shower had not much effect upon us. we were accustomed to letting our clothes dry on our bodies. nature is very kind to people who are day and night in the open air. if the sun did not shine soon after a shower, we made a very deplorable appearance in our dripping clothes. but we never grumbled. we were generally cheerful, unless we were exhausted from fatigue. we suffered most on those long nights when, for some reason or other, we could not sleep, for many of the burghers were troubled with fears for their dear ones. often, after a long ride, we were too tired to prepare a meal, but simply flung ourselves against our saddles and slept before we had time to let our thoughts wander. but if the enemy were not at our heels, we often passed the long nights in sleeplessness, gazing up at the stars with the most bitter feelings in our hearts. no wonder that many a burgher grew gray. we were often kept awake by the tethered horses stumbling among the groups. sometimes a man would jump up and strike at them till all the others awoke, too, and then there was great hilarity in the quiet of the night. sometimes a constant rain cast a shadow over the sunny hoogeveld and made our lives sombre and almost unbearable. then our tattered garments could not dry on our bodies, and everything about us was wet and dirty. even in dry weather fuel was almost unattainable, for the treeless hoogeveld had been almost exhausted by the many large commandos which had visited the 'uitspan' places. in wet weather it was almost an impossibility to make a fire. whoever had an ailment passed unpleasant nights then; each night meant a nail in his coffin. even the constant rain the burghers bore cheerfully, and many a joke was passed along during an interval in the downpour. but in the morning, as we dragged our weary limbs out of our mud-baths, shivering from cold, we did not venture to put the conventional question, 'did you sleep well?' to each other. the spirit among the burghers was very different from what it had been. no swearing was heard, and quarrelling was exceptional. thefts, too, were seldom committed. we called ourselves 'sifted'; traitors and thieves had gone over to the stronger party. i do not believe that any european army would have kept its moral tone so high under such demoralizing circumstances as did that small army of boers with the help of their religion. whereas in time of peace there was much difference in churches, especially in the transvaal (although no difference in belief), now, during the war, the unity of belief in one bible had become the means of raising the moral tone of the burghers. during the last few months a plague had come amongst us that we had heard much about, and now caused us much trouble--a plague of lice. it is not an edifying subject, but anyone can understand how the itching caused many a sleepless night. we were not to blame. when we no longer were able to change our clothes, we could not guard against the vermin that had become a plague among the huge wandering armies of the enemy. although we boiled our clothes, to our horror the nits appeared again. xiv battle of boesmanskop--flight of women fortunately, the enemy gave us a week's rest on the farm of landdrost schotte. during that time veld-kornet meyer, with his small troop of germans, blew up the electric factory at brakpan. then we stayed a few days on mr. brown's farm, where a great many little commandos congregated that were camped on the banks of the river. our horses became quite sleek again from the abundance of mealies they got there. on that farm we first used for fuel the poles that fenced in the farm. i distinctly remember how, after we had received the order from commandant kemp, we waited until after dark before pulling up the poles, and how grieved we were at the necessity for doing it. since that time we have got over such scruples. even if there were wood to be had on an outspan place, there was always a race to procure the best poles. of course, when there was abundance of wood, the pulling up of poles was strictly prohibited. at that time i made the acquaintance of a nephew of mine, paul maré, a boy of fourteen, with a noble countenance, who, like so many others of the same age, rode about with gun and bandolier, and was full of courage. when the enemy approached his mother's house he prepared for flight, but she took it for a joke. when she noticed that he was in earnest, she forbade him to go, as his father had been killed already, and he would in all probability be killed too. he merely answered, 'because they have shot my father, i mean to shoot them now,' and rode away. we did not like remaining long in one place doing nothing. we always became impatient, and wished to know when we could move on. but the commandant always answered that he could not tell. and the more sensible of us thought, 'it depends on khaki.' this was really the case now. on the evening of january we got the order to be in readiness. while general beyers, with or men, passed to the rear of the enemy to destroy the boksburg mines, our commando of horsemen moved rapidly in the direction of boesmanskop in the heidelberg district, to cut off the enemy who were pushing on to our part of the hoogeveld. we arrived at boesmanskop the following morning. the parts of the country that we now passed through had not yet been destroyed by the enemy, but everywhere else the houses and farms were burnt and ruined in the most barbarous way. we were very anxious, therefore, to cut off the enemy's advance. they were camped to the north-west of boesmanskop. a strong boer guard occupied this kopje--the, only one in the neighbourhood; for the rest, the surroundings were the ordinary hoogeveld with its mounds. we pushed up in a long line over a 'bult' that ran north-west of boesmanskop. our guns--only a few, as most had been sent away to be repaired--stood on top of this mound without any cover. lieutenant odendaal, a very brave gunner, did not like kopjes, but always placed his cannon on a mound, as the enemy's guns always fired too short or too long on account of the misleading distances. they did so in this instance, and the bombs flew far beyond us. corporal botman ordered me to stay with the horses at the foot of the 'bult,' while the burghers crept on to the top a few hundred paces further, expecting eventually to charge the enemy. suddenly i heard, twice over, a noise like that of a train in the distance. my brother told me afterwards how he had seen a detachment of the enemy storming boesmanskop, and how the burghers waited until they were close by, and then beat them back completely with a twice-repeated salvo. for some time the guns of the enemy ceased firing, because, as i heard later on, lieutenant odendaal had shot down the gunners. when they made themselves heard again, they were more accurate in their aim; i most narrowly escaped the bombs. four or five thundered around me in quick succession, as i fell and stooped and grasped the bridles of the rearing horses. some of the horses pulled the bridles out of my hands and raced down the valley. but the left wing of the enemy was surrounding us, and, like a swarm of birds that rise on the wing, the burghers fled back in among the tethered and the straying horses, and retreated as fast as they could. the enemy now bombarded boesmanskop, so that the retreating burghers in the valley had a bad time of it with the bombs flying over their heads. many waggons of boer families, fleeing for their lives, were pushing along the sides of the long mounds, and the enemy's bombs burst in their midst more than once--perhaps accidentally, perhaps because they knew that 'the boer nation must be swept off the face of the earth.' the women seemed to be in a panic. from all sides families came in carts and waggons--long rows of vehicles filled with poor, terror-stricken women and children; large herds of cattle were driven along by the kaffir servants, but many of them fell into the enemy's hands. the burghers did their best to make a stand in order to give the waggons a good start, but retreated in good order when they saw no chance of checking the enemy's forward movement. fortunately, a heavy shower fell in the afternoon and hindered the enemy in their advance, else many a waggon would have fallen into their hands. it was no longer necessary for the burghers to resist for the sake of the waggons. the enemy had camped and left us, with the exception of the guard, to plod our way shamefacedly through the mud. our ponies, with their quick, peculiar gait, soon caught up the heavily-laden waggons, and we supplied ourselves with mealies, flour, fowls, etc., that had been thrown overboard or left behind on a broken-down waggon. such is the fortune of war, and the things were better in our hands than in those of the khakies. when we rode up alongside the waggons, many a meeting took place between relatives and friends who had been parted for months. the women and girls drove the horses, and many of them walked with the kaffirs in the mud next to the oxen. they did the work of the men in time of peace. many of them had been delicately nurtured, in spite of the simplicity of their lives, and were not accustomed to the hard work. they were all transvaal women, and wives and daughters of the burghers who had to look on helplessly at their sad flight. and, oh! the dear little heads of the children that peeped at us from out of the waggons! it was a cruel sight, and it moved us strangely. although most of the women were drenched, they were all cheerful, and seemed proud of taking an active part in the great struggle. and if a young man asked a girl whether he should ride next to her to help her, the answer was: 'no, thank you, we can manage; the men must fight now.' there were many old men and boys who preferred the society of the women to the danger of the bombs. some of the women were not kind, and reproached us for being the cause of all this misery, as our appearance in the hoogeveld had brought the enemy in its train. the waggons were heavily laden with furniture and grain, some even with stoves, and they sank deep into the mud, as the roads were one mass of mud after the numerous waggons and thousands of cattle that had already passed along them. long rows of vehicles were continually approaching from all sides, all going in the same direction, and when we came to waterval river a sad but grand sight met our eyes. the river was full. hundreds of waggons had been outspanned on the banks on either side. the women and children were doing their best to light the fires with the wet wood, and to cook some food. it was just before sunset, but there was no sun to cheer them on their way. against the sides of the mounds (bulten) the cattle were moving in black dense masses, making an almost deafening noise with their bleating and lowing. as we rode through the full river, we saw in mid-stream a cart that had stuck fast. a woman was standing in the water pushing at the back, while a girl held the reins. a few of our men jumped down from their horses and soon succeeded in getting the cart to the other side. but we could not stay to help the poor women and children. we rode on, inquiring everywhere after the trolleys and the commissariat. these were higher up on the other side of the river, so we had to cross once more, this time in the dark, at the risk of our lives. two little girls were drowned that evening, and the wheel of a waggon had passed over a girl's body. it had been better if the women had stayed at home and depended on the mercy of the enemy. they should not have undertaken this terrible journey. a woman cannot flee from place to place like a man, and life in a 'refugee'(?) camp would have been better; she should bear her sorrow bravely at home. and this was only the beginning of the misery. if they had remained at home, they might have saved their homes, but now the enemy was sure to destroy and burn the deserted farms. during the day, when the flight was still a novelty, the women and girls were cheerful enough, but who can describe their heartache and misery during their enforced journey on the rainy nights? i do not know how all those waggons and cattle got through the swollen river that night. twenty paces from where i lay a waggon was being inspanned; i heard the voices of men and women. an old man was talking. he threatened to off-load all the women on the first available place, as he had never in his life had so much trouble. a small boy and a kaffir had their turn also; the boy was on horseback and led, or rather dragged, another horse that refused to move. he had to collect the cattle, which seemed to me almost an impossible task in the dark, among the many horses of the burghers. when he had found kindermeid, witlies had disappeared, and when witlies was found, then vaalpens was missing again. kindermeid, a gray ox, was the most troublesome. repeatedly it passed by me, followed by the boy dragging the unwilling horse. then the boy exclaimed in sad, shrill tones, 'see how the mare jibs!' when his father angrily asked, 'have you found kindermeid now?' he answered, 'yes, father, but now vaalpens is missing; the mare jibs so, i can't get the cattle together!' when he had found them all and the rumbling of their waggon was dying away in the distance, i still heard him complain of the unwilling mare, in his sad, shrill little voice. it was a small episode in my life that i shall not easily forget. this was the last i saw of the flight of the women, for we had to stay behind to fight as we were retreating. later on i heard many sad tales about it, which i cannot repeat in this little book of mine. the poor women and children were indeed to be pitied, but we had no sympathy with the men who fled in the winter with their cattle to the boschveld, and now sought our protection, though they had never fought themselves. the flight with the cattle was necessary, as the enemy would otherwise have exterminated them, but many of the men took advantage of the necessity, and sometimes three or four strong, sturdy men went with one waggon, where one man would have been ample. xv. battle of chrissiesmeer--reunion with general beyers i will not describe our retreat, as nothing of importance occurred. we were constantly on the alert to move before the cunning french entrapped us within the circle that he was trying to draw around us. at trichardsfontein malherbe and i had to go in search of our horses, which had strayed, so we were separated from our commando for some days. when we found our horses we went to ermelo, and stayed there until the enemy were so close upon us that general louis botha, who happened to be at ermelo, and knew of our arrival, sent to say that we must leave the town. we then joined his force and rode to spion kop. 'in the land of the blind the one-eyed is king!' even so it was with spion kop of the hoogeveld ermelo. during the three years of my university life in that distant little country that stands by us now so well in our need, i often climbed a hill about the size of spion kop. that hill is famed for its height throughout the whole country, and bears the formidable name of 'the amersfoort mountain.' while the officers were holding a council of war, malherbe and i rode off to our commando. at klipstapel we were allowed a few days' breathing time, and there we prepared for the night attack on smith-dorrien's camp, to the north of us. but our guide lost his way in the dark, and we had to return. it was decided, nevertheless, to attempt the attack the following night at chrissiesmeer, where the camp was then. we had everything in our favour. we were a strong force of many commandos, and the enemy's force was not much larger. that evening we were placed in quite a different order from the usual one. the men of each corporal's division rode next to each other. the commandant or veld-kornet at the head, followed by the corporal with his ten or fifteen men riding abreast, was followed by the next corporal riding abreast with his men, etc. on looking back from the top of the hill in the moonlight, one saw a broad dark mass of fierce, determined men. nearly every burgher had one or two extra horses, mostly mares with foals, that we had commandeered and trained during our retreat on the hoogeveld. at that time every horse, trained or untrained, was put to use. it was a pity that the mares with their foals were not left behind, as they made a terrible noise with their whinnying. we walked our horses; we were not allowed to utter a word or to light our pipes--that was reasonable; but the neighing of the horses was not exactly in accordance with our silence. every now and again, when the whinnying of the mares was at its worst, some burgher or other would give vent to an exclamation of impatience. every now and again someone or other would light his pipe, taking care that neither the veld-kornet nor the enemy should see it. a dead silence reigned everywhere, broken only by the mares and their foals. these beasts caused us great uneasiness, but so did the order we received that we had to shoot sharp at the beginning of the attack, but then slowly, until it became light, so as to save some of our ammunition in case of need. we had to attack in the dark then. but what if the enemy, prepared for our arrival, were to pepper at us unexpectedly from a different direction, or to point their maxims at us? the greatest mistake of all was that we took our horses right up to the hill on the other side of which the khakies were. the horses were tired and had ceased neighing, but we should have left them some miles behind and walked on to make the attack as soon as it was light. an uncle of mine told me that he saw some men on horseback riding over the bull, whom he took to be our spies, but they were of course the enemy's guard. when we had tethered our horses at the foot of the bult, we climbed up slowly, but before we could fall into position the enemy opened a sharp fire at us. we charged shouting 'hurrah!' in wild enthusiasm, and fired as fast as we could straight ahead. the sparks flew up some twenty paces in front of us, and even after the fight we could not tell whether they came from our own guns or from those of the enemy. at intervals we heard the tick-tick-tick of a small maxim, but owing to the dark we were not mown down. some of the burghers threw themselves down behind us, and involuntarily one thought of the proverb, 'to hide in another's blood.' whenever the firing slackened a few of our brave men charged, shouting out encouraging words, and again raised our enthusiasm. both burghers on my right and on my left were wounded. the latter had a most demoralizing influence on the rest of the men, as he lay groaning and moaning in a heart-rending way. he was only slightly wounded, and eventually escaped on horseback. our brave commandant botman went forward ten paces beyond the rest in his enthusiasm, and served as a target for the enemy. he was severely wounded, but walked back without a moan and fell down close behind me. i did not even know that he was wounded. i turned round to see if the burghers behind me would not take the initiative in the inevitable flight, as i was ashamed to take it upon myself. i did not take it at all amiss, therefore, when i saw several men looking round to see if the way were clear, and darting like an arrow back to their horses, for all round us our men were being shot down, and we did not know where the enemy's camp was, nor could we tell the effect of our shooting in the dark. a slight fog had arisen, through which the moon occasionally succeeded in dimly appearing. the day had dawned; we reached our horses in the greatest disorder, and heightened the confusion by shouting inquiries to each other after friends and relatives. some did not wait to find their horses, but fled on foot; others jumped on strange horses. some even escaped on khaki horses that had strayed from the camp. as my brother and i galloped off, a man fell wounded close behind us, and the bullet struck the ground between us. the burghers rallied at a farm in the neighbourhood of the enemy's camp. some of our men fled on, but most of them retreated with the guns to the commissariat trolleys, many without saddle, mackintosh or blanket, more hopelessly impoverished than ever, but not discouraged, for although the attack had been repulsed we were not defeated. in this lay our strength, that we were not disheartened by our defeats, but were able constantly to rally and to renew the attack. we kept on exhausting the enemy by slight skirmishes that are not worth relating, but their effect on the whole weakened him and strengthened us. on our side that day there were forty wounded, but only a few killed. it grieved us all that commandant botman had remained behind on the battle-field. he was universally liked for his bravery and for his simple christianity. to our great joy, we heard later on that he had recovered, and had somehow succeeded in reaching krugersdorp. fortunately, the fog prevented the enemy from doing us much harm, and towards afternoon our cannon put a stop to their advance. the attack on smith-dorrien's camp was worthy of a better result. in this, as well as in the hekpoort and boesmanskop battles, where also we had no position, the burghers showed great courage and goodwill. in my opinion, the officers should have given up the plan of attack after we had missed our way the night before and been obliged to return. the kaffirs and traitors must have warned the enemy of our intention to attack, so that they could be in readiness for us. the enemy were now all round us. we heard the firing of cannon on all sides, but that same night we undertook a cunning backward movement, and when the enemy closed their cordon an hour later the bird had flown. we were careful to avoid a repetition of cronje's experience. the burghers were very anxious about our lager. we had left it on brown's farm on the wilgeriver, when our commando advanced towards boesmanskop. how the lager escaped i do not know, for we heard that the enemy were advancing from all sides--standerton, middelburg, etc. but we reached it in safety the very night that we slipped through the enemy's cordon. we were now safely on our way back to rustenburg, and had to leave general french with his , or , men to drive along helpless women and children, and all the cattle he could lay hands on. commandant-general louis botha had strictly forbidden the women to leave their farms after the battle of boesmanskop, so that the enormous woman lager received no new additions. many of the farms were burned down, but some families had been left unmolested, because they said the enemy were ill at ease, owing to a rumour that general beyers was going to attack them in the rear. the partly-burned granaries bore evidence to the great hurry the enemy were in. on some farms the very rooms that contained grain were set on fire. our constant retreat had a most demoralizing influence. this was felt even in our conversation and our expressions. we called this retreating 'kamping,'[a] and it became one of our most common expressions in our daily life. for 'let us go!' we said 'let us kamp!' or for 'this evening we start!' we said 'this evening we go on the kamp!' a typical expression was 'kamping' for our independence, when we could no longer withstand the enemy. if anyone boasted of his loyalty to his country and people, he merely said that he had 'kamped' along with the burghers wherever they had 'kamped.' we used in our conversation many military terms; for instance, 'to change one's position' was 'to go and lie with your saddle on another place.' 'i shall mauser you' meant 'i shall strike you.' at grootpan general beyers again joined us, after having done the enemy some harm at boksburg. he addressed us and explained his reason for countermanding the attack on krugersdorp. he had told the secret to a few of his officers, who made it public property, so that the enemy had heard of it and were prepared for the attack. moreover, a great fault of the burghers had come to light at nooitgedacht--namely, that they shirked their duty in their eagerness for plunder. he was afraid that if they took the town their plundering spirit would get the better of them and so give the enemy a chance of catching them or putting them to flight. lastly he said that he was going to act in opposition to the orders received from the commandant-general, and would send the zoutpansbergers and waterbergers home that evening, as it was impossible for them in their condition to undertake any military operations. he himself also was going home, but would return after a few weeks, as a large commando, led if possible by himself, was to invade cape colony. kemp was made fighting general; the rev. mr. kriel left with general beyers; klaassen took the place of kemp, and liebenberg was appointed field-cornet of our commando. the return to their homes of the waterbergers and zoutpansbergers roused a feeling of dissatisfaction in us. owing to the horse-sickness in those regions, and the home-sickness of the men themselves, we concluded that we were not likely to see them again. we also thought it would have been better to have invaded the colony long ago, instead of aimlessly wandering about the hoogeveld as we had been doing. in all probability our generals put off the invasion as long as possible because many of the men--nearly all the waterbergers and zoutpansbergers--were against it. such were the difficulties against which our generals had to fight. in private, both kemp and beyers acknowledged to me that a march into the colony was strictly necessary. i do not mean to criticise, but only to give an idea of the spirit reigning among the burghers at that time. footnotes: [footnote a: 'trappers.'] xvi camped near tafelkop general beyers' force was again split into small commandos, which it was the intention of our officers to join into one large force, and so make their way through the ranks of the enemy. but this plan was not a success, for the enemy were too strong for us. the krugersdorp and pretoriadorp commandos one night crossed the railway within sight of the khaki camp-lights at irene station--quite close to our capital, in full view of khaki's warning, 'no admittance!' we passed zwartkop, crossed dwarsvlei, and had to turn back to the right through hartleyskloof, as we came across a camp of the enemy. we then entered the moot district, dreaded for its terrible horse-sickness, and in the beginning of march we arrived at tafelkop, to the north-east of lichtenburg, near mabaalstad. once, as i lay resting against my saddle, i heard an old boer telling of the courage and hopefulness among the burghers from whom he came. they talked of nothing but peace. it was their belief that a european sovereign on marriage may make a request which must be granted. he may even ask a million pounds or somebody's head, and cannot be refused. so, they said, queen wilhelmina had risen to make her speech at her wedding, and had requested absolute independence for the republics. the kings and princes were against it, but could not break the old custom, and therefore peace would soon reign over our country. but such talk of 'peace' was an exception, not the rule. after the terrible experience of the last months, we had become resigned to our fate, and did not try to anticipate the future. we knew that we must fight with courage and energy, and the rest we left in god's hands. we had ceased to be curious about the plans of our generals, which were never made known to us. exhausted in body and spirit, we took no account of time. it was all one to us whether it were morning, noon or night; whether we had to march one, two, or three hours longer; whether we had to march at all, or to remain where we were. but we were not demoralized, not unnerved. an overworked horse allows himself to be caught and ill-treated afresh. the enemy, had only to fire at us to rouse our slumbering energy, for we suffered voluntarily, and were a support to each other, because of our firm conviction that we were giving our lives for the sake of our independence. it rained when we arrived at tafelkop, and when we had been there a week it still rained. the only clothes we possessed were beginning to rot on our bodies. some of the burghers had a change of clothes on the trolleys; others made themselves trousers of their many-coloured blankets, in which they cut a remarkable figure. others, again, were in tatters, and had to disappear on the few occasions that any lady visited us. most of the men had no mackintoshes, but always looked forward to the sunshine that was sure to follow a heavy shower. but if the rain continued, we made huts of grass, or clubbed together in the few remaining tents, or if there happened to be an unburned farmhouse, we made for that. when the rain continued at tafelkop, and our limbs became stiffened with the cold, some of us went to an outhouse belonging to a neighbouring farm to seek shelter. during the day we sat there in our wet clothes staring dismally out into the rain. at night we tried to warm our naked bodies by covering ourselves with the dirty wool that happened to be lying there. all the outhouses in the neighbourhood were crowded with armed burghers in tatters. on the eighth day, when the welcome sun made its appearance once more, our clothes were still dripping. lately we had had fruit as a substitute for sugar; but the fruit season was over now, and we had to go back to meat and mealie-porridge, or mealie-porridge and meat. in the moot our horses died in such numbers--particularly the 'unsalted' mares--that many of our men had to walk. on march my faithful brown pony steenbok died of horse-sickness. for over a year he had carried me through thick and thin, and i could not bear to see his suffering. a few weeks later we got another lot of horses; i will not mention how, as the information might fall into the hands of the enemy. the people who still lived on their farms often told us that the few remaining fowls instinctively recognised khaki as an enemy, and made for the hedges and shrubs whenever they caught sight of him. so here, also, nature looked after the survival of the species. the cows taken by the enemy also made their way back to their calves that khaki stupidly left behind, and so the little children could again have milk. even the bees were not left undisturbed; but the bee is an enemy of any nasty-smelling thing, and therefore the dirty, perspiring khakies got many a sting, and the honey usually remained in the hives. the enemy probably thought that we were helpless in our poverty. but a boer is not easily made helpless. we patched our own shoes and carried the lasts about with us. horseshoes and nails we made from the tires of wheels and telegraph-wires. instead of matches we used two stones. when the enemy have burned and destroyed all our corn-mills, we will still have coffee-mills, and when those are gone we will do as the kaffirs do, and grind our corn between two stones--and crushed and roasted maize is very good to eat. the old voortrekkers wore trousers made of untanned hide. we can do the same if khaki does not supply us with sufficient clothes. our wives and children and our exiled men we cannot get out of khaki's hands, and that is the greatest difficulty in our way. one of the greatest advantages we have over the enemy is that we are among friends, and can move about in small troops without having to depend on a base of operations, whereas they do well not to divide themselves in too small groups, or to venture too far from their base--even in large numbers. the services in our camp were held by the rev. mr. naudé--a man who kept the courage and the moral sense of the burghers up to the mark with his meek christian spirit. he also formed the debating club that was such a welcome recreation to us. we often thought that the enemy would be surprised if they could know of the debates we had--for instance, 'must the "hands-uppers" be allowed to vote after the war is over?' 'must the kaffirs or natives have more rights?' 'is intervention advisable under the circumstances? etc. the men in the neighbourhood of tafelkop were mostly 'hands-uppers,' so we confiscated their property, and their grain and cattle we took for the use of the lager, but we always left sufficient for the use of the women and children. the future of a farm on which a lager had camped for some time was dark indeed, for even the grain in the fields was destroyed by the demon of war. if the owner of the farm were not a 'hands-upper,' our officers usually succeeded in preventing the destruction. sometimes the pulling up of the fencing was inevitable, as we were so short of fuel. the boer women were sometimes forced to accept the protection of the enemy, after their farms and property had been destroyed by friend and enemy alike. the negotiation of february , between kitchener and louis botha, was read out to us at tafelkop. the burghers were unanimous in condemnation of kitchener's conditions, and were fully satisfied with botha's short, vigorous answer. had we indeed fought so long and so fiercely only to become an english colony, and not to be allowed to carry arms unless we had a license? and for the kaffirs to be eventually allowed to vote? the men who were attached to their families and farms, but preferred losing all to becoming 'hands-uppers,' were unanimous in declaring kitchener's conditions unacceptable, and all were ready to fight to the bitter end. we often spoke of the terrible suffering of our women and children in the refugee camps, and sometimes doubted whether it were not better for their sakes to give in. we did not know whether patriotism were worth the shedding of so much innocent blood. it cost us more than we can tell to remain firm and brave in our undertaking. at that time we also heard of de wet's retreat from cape colony, but not officially. it was broken to us gently, and at first as if he had been successful, so that we all thought peace was to follow soon. how we rejoiced! but a few days later de wet's official report was read out to us, and then our courage sank indeed. what was the good of our fighting if the colony would not help us? the disappointment was not great enough to make us lay down our arms, but we knew it would be many a long day before peace was in the land. how long should we still be chased from place to place? when would there be rest for our exhausted bodies? and how we longed for our dear ones, if only we should find them alive! conclusion battle of stompies--in the hands of the enemy we stayed fully three weeks at tafelkop. i was appointed commissary of the krugersdorp commando, and rode round to all the farms to procure the needful for our commando. as general de la rey had been camping close by at rietfontein for some time, there was not much left to commandeer, unless we deprived the women whose husbands were in the veld of the necessaries of life. our lager was moved from tafelkop to rietpan, from whence a few hundred of our horsemen started with some guns and a few trolleys for groot kafferkraal, in hartbeestfontein district. general de la rey had come over to organize the expedition in person, and accompanied general kemp. i went with a man called jooste to the neighbourhood of lichtenberg and klein kafferkraal to commandeer cattle. there i heard many tales of the enemy's behaviour as they passed through a week before. for some reason or other the houses there had not been burnt, perhaps owing to the verbal negotiation between botha and kitchener. i know of only one house that was burned down there. that was the finest house in the neighbourhood and belonged to willem basson. mrs. basson herself told me how it happened. her husband had fled with the cattle when the enemy came along. the soldiers asked her for money. they said such a fine house must contain a great deal of money, and when she refused they became most impertinent. the finding of a packet of dynamite in the coach-house afforded a fine excuse. the dynamite was used by basson for the making of wells. on finding the packet they shouted 'hurrah!' and rushed off with it to the camp close to the house. they came back after a while and stormed the house, smashing the windows with stones. truly a heroic storming of a fortress held by women! they destroyed everything in the house, and the women and children were obliged to flee to mrs. scheffers at klein kafferkraal, where i met them. we know of many cases of cruelty and violence, cases that have roused us to a passion of hatred. i do not believe that the cases of violence, which are not spoken of because of the horror, are tolerated by the military authorities, who are probably ignorant of them. one can understand that the worst were committed by isolated patrols who could give free vent to their evil passions. we cannot always hold the chief officers responsible for acts committed by individual soldiers, neither are our officers responsible for the unlawful acts of individuals on our side. but if the english, with their national pride and obstinacy, deny these acts of violence, we can give them sufficient proof of more cases than one. i was not present when the krugersdorpers attacked babington's force near lensdenplaats, in the neighbourhood of groot kafferkraal. but the following morning, when they were retreating, i joined them with some cattle, and was present at the battle of stompies. the night before the battle i heard de la rey's order given to kemp to march his men at four o'clock the following morning in the direction of the enemy. he was told to retreat fighting, in case the enemy attacked, so as to give our reinforcements an opportunity of attacking in the rear. kemp ordered the lager, or, rather, the few waggons, to retire to bodenstein's farm the following morning. while we were busy inspanning we heard the enemy's bomb-maxim, and before the waggons had forded the dangerous drift of the donga near bodenstein's farm the bullets flew over our heads from the bult behind us. the women fled into the house and the burghers retreated as fast as they could. the enemy had surrounded us in the night, and each burgher had to do his utmost to escape from out of the half-circle. the few who stayed behind to defend the guns were soon obliged to fly after the rest, and to abandon one gun still on the other side of the drift. the others might have been saved if the women's lager had not impeded their flight by obstructing the way. we retreated to vetpan. those of the burghers who retreated more to the right in the direction of stompies were the best off, as the right wing of the enemy had to be on its guard not to enter the wood there. the enemy fired at us from horseback to enhance our panic, which was clever of them, as it was impossible for us to turn in any direction. my horse was overworked, and had changed its pace into a heavy gallop, a sure sign that it would not last much longer. when i looked round, i saw a few khakies riding on ahead, making our burghers 'hands-up.' fortunately, someone released a spare horse; i mounted it without a saddle and made good my escape, but was incapable of riding for several days after. our men made no attempt to check the enemy's progress. they all fled, each one bent on saving himself. a boer, if once he flies, is not easily turned aside. but it must be remembered that our horses were terribly overworked. they had to live on nothing but grass, and very little of that. we all also recognised the impossibility of checking the enemy, as we ran the risk of shooting our own men and women; so our only chance lay in flight. the horses of the enemy were soon 'done up,' and they had to satisfy themselves with our guns--two large ones that we had taken from them at colenso, a damaged bomb-maxim and several smaller ones. they took prisoners, among whom were lieutenant odendaal, artillerists, burghers, and for the rest women and children and some big, full-grown cowardly men who were in the habit of fleeing with the women and children. the greater part of the women's lager fell into their hands. the few waggons of generals smuts and kemp that they captured were of no importance. jooste and malherbe were also taken prisoners. i rode with general de la rey to tafelkop, where our lager was stationed. in a week's time i was back again at stompies. i had been there scarcely an hour, when the tidings came that the enemy were camped on willem basson's farm. the following morning before daybreak i was on my way to rietfontein. there, too, i had been only about an hour, when another column came down upon me from the direction of ventersdorp. i fled to tivee buffelgeschiet with two boiled mealies and a piece of meat in my hands. before i reached that farm, half an hour's ride, my horse was done up. i crept behind an ant-hill and prepared to defend myself against four scouts who seemed to be coming straight towards me. suddenly, however, they turned off in the direction of their main-guard, because, as i afterwards heard, they were threatened by eight of our scouts. but the khakies were nearing me, and i was obliged to lead my horse into a mealie-veld and to lie down full length in the rain. they did not appear, however, and i concluded that they had camped at rietfontein, so i walked my horse to the farm of mrs. jansen, one of the few hospitable women in that sparsely inhabited country. she hastily informed me that the khakies had been there. the eight burghers soon returned, among them a young man who was nursing a wounded man on the farm. in the night we went into the veld with a small brother of his, who rode a mule, and returned in the morning to watch the enemy's movements from the roof of the house. my horse was so ill with horse-sickness that it shook under me. the enemy suddenly appeared on the long bult (hill) along which i had come the day before. i carried my saddle into the house and fled into the veld. from behind an ant-hill i watched the enemy shooting my poor sick horse. they passed by me several times, but at last i was discovered, and had to give up my beloved mauser without a chance of defending myself. my two companions escaped. this happened on april , . fortunately, i fell into the hands of decent khakies who did not insist on examining my old veld-shoes that i was using as a money-box, so i was able to keep my precious four pounds. they took from me only a few trifles by way of curiosities, and said i was sure to be robbed of them sooner or later by the soldiers in the camp. i was told that i could congratulate myself that i was made prisoner, as many columns were coming down upon us from all directions, so that we would be obliged to surrender that very day. i answered that the war had given sufficient proof that their expectations were not always realized. when the officers of the guard were told that i was taken under arms, a curt order was given to 'let him walk.' when i protested and pointed out that i was a prisoner of war and not a criminal, i was treated with consideration as an ordinary soldier. i was taken by babington's force. the following day the waggon lager arrived at tafelkop, and the cavalry that had been sent on to capture our lager joined the camp _minus_ any prisoners. when the enemy's lager arrived at potchefstroom a week later, it brought along seventeen or eighteen 'hands-uppers,' one ambulance doctor, several families, and one prisoner of war. six of the 'hands-uppers' told me that the whole month we were camped at tafelkop they had hidden from us in their bedrooms so as not to be obliged to break their oath of neutrality. i came across an old acquaintance of mine in the lager--phister, who had served under commandant boshoff. i knew that he had been wounded in the leg at the battle of stompies and taken by our men to rietpan. on the trek from ventersdorp to potchefstroom i discovered him lying on his back in the blazing sun on an open trolley, near to potchefstroom; he shouted to me that he had had nothing to eat during the whole of the eighteen hours' trek. in potchefstroom our trolley, with the twelve 'hands-uppers,' the ambulance doctor, and myself, was sent in the direction of the prison. people came towards us from all directions. some women called out to us: 'why were you so stupid as to let yourselves be caught?' others inquired, weeping, after husbands and sons. when we got to the prison i alone was detained, and had the disagreeable experience of being locked up. the ambulance doctor was dismissed, as he was 'not guilty'; and the 'hands-uppers' were taken to the refugee camp. the treatment that the prisoners of war receive varies, and depends very much on the prisoners themselves and on the men into whose hands they fall. i was allowed to see my mother and sister, who obtained a pass to come from pretoria to see me. but i have seen the guards roughly send away weeping women who were begging to be allowed a few words only with their dear ones. at elandsfontein station the transvaal colours worn by some of the prisoners of war were taken away by force. on the long journey to ladysmith we were packed like herrings in open trucks, with insufficient covering for the cold nights. the ladysmith camp contained chiefly burghers who had been 'tamed' by the enemy, and were ready to take the oath of allegiance. they were well treated. on april i was taken prisoner, and on may i was on board the _manila_, together with other prisoners of war, on our way to india. the burghers, accustomed to a free, independent life, suffered horribly from want of space and insufficient and bad food. they could not get over the idea of having to appear twice daily for the roll-call, although there was no escape possible. but their sense of humour did not suffer. our burghers acknowledge that travelling is an education in itself, but they one and all prefer travelling as free men--first or second class--and they even prefer the high walls and limited space of the fortress to being a prisoner-of-war passenger on board the steamer. the long, galvanized-iron bungalows in which we live here have zinc roofs to guard against the heat of the tropical sun, but at any rate the wind can blow through the openings on either side. the burghers are kept alive and in pretty good health by an extremely temperate manner of life. once a week they are taken by a strong guard for a walk an hour beyond the fort. they never get out on parole. as far as we are concerned, they might even take cannon along with them to guard us, if only they would take us out oftener. here, too, the moral tone of the burghers is kept up by religious services, and by the great devotion of the rev. mr. viljoen, clergyman of reitz, in the orange free state, who is a fellow-prisoner of ours. the gaiety is kept up by sports and by the companionship of many children. the sorrow is enhanced by the presence of many gray-headed old men and by sad and heart-breaking tidings. 'guard, is there any news this morning?' we are grieving with the grief of the exile, but we are waiting patiently, and hoping still that a dove will bring us a branch with our colours--orange, green, red, white and blue: peace and independence. [illustration: hand written dedication] [illustration: swazi mother carrying her babe like most of the south african natives, the swazis carry all burdens on their heads, the women invariably being the beasts of burden. babies are the only things the women ever carry on their backs, this being because they keep their children with them while doing the housework. the splendid stature and erect carriage of swazi women is directly due to carrying all weights on their heads] adventures in swaziland the story of a south african boer by owen rowe o'neil with many illustrations from photographs [illustration: publisher's mark] new york the century co. copyright, , by the century co. printed in u. s. a. to my father counselor, farmer, and warrior this humble record is dedicated contents chapter i page how the o'neils came to the transvaal--boers with irish names--oom paul's refusal to buy delagoa bay--the boers break for freedom--their bloody battles with the savage tribes--the great trek--dingaanzulu's treachery--the dingaan day celebration chapter ii rietvlei, the "valley of reeds"--the o'neil homestead--pioneer hardships--the war against maleuw, "the lion"--"slim gert" o'neil breaks the power of the makateese king--jafta, king of the mapors--my trousers nearly cost me an eye--our toy factory and mimic battles--oom tuys grobler tells of swaziland and king buno, "the terrible" chapter iii my desire to visit king buno--how i won the trip on a bet--a boer race meet--"black hand tom," the hope of rietvlei--klaas's ride to save his skin--father gives permission for my visit--belfast celebrates the boer victory chapter iv i leave for my first visit to swaziland--mother warns me about oom tuys--why the boers paid tribute to king buno--queen labotsibeni, the brains of swaziland--buno's visit to oom paul kruger--our reception in swaziland--ezulweni, the "valley of heaven"--buno's rifle--sibijaan and i explore by night chapter v sheba's breasts and the place of execution--zombode and the royal kraal of queen labotsibeni--common and royal ground--we reach king buno's kraal at lebombo--gin for the king--buno, the regal savage--i present a rifle to the king--lomwazi takes me to labotsibeni--the old queen is worried over tuys' activities--the shooting-match with the king--tuys and i manage to miss a few human targets chapter vi tuys orders me to remain in camp during the celebration--i visit the royal kraal--feasting, dancing, and combats to the death--butchery of young women--buno and tuys wrestle for gold--how tuys became rich--a "legal execution" in swaziland--the unfaithful wife expiates her sin--how tuys shoots--father gathers information by mental suggestion chapter vii i visit swaziland again--buno's illness--an appeal from the king--the race against death--umzulek meets us--the dying king--buno makes tuys guardian of his people--the last royal salute of the impis--the death-dealing puff-adder--buno dies like a true savage king--tzaneen, the royal widow, suspects murder--the queens meet--tuys escapes the funeral sacrifice chapter viii the royal funeral--the "thunder of the shields"--not afraid to die--the witch-doctor's bloody work--what labotsibeni wanted--the burial of the indunas--rain-making and the "rain stone"--buno's burial in the caves--witch-doctors prevent our entering the caves--labotsibeni sends for gin chapter ix sibijaan's sportiveness almost costs his life--how tuys became the friend of buno--labotsibeni endorsed as regent of swaziland--umzulek plots to seize the throne--the boers invade swaziland--tuys dictates peace between the queens--umzulek gets his lesson chapter x war with england--siege of belfast--our boyish impi attacks the british--ghosts defeat us--jafta's friendship--english troopers do the "sporting thing"--umzulek still planning deviltry--death of klaas, our jockey--father sends me away to get an education chapter xi back to rietvlei from harvard--i locate in ermelo--tuys brings news that sebuza is to be crowned king of swaziland--i decide to make a picture record of the coronation--the trek to zombode to get the royal permission--snyman plays ghost and almost gets killed--visit to mbabane, capital of swaziland chapter xii i meet labotsibeni again--flattering a savage queen--explaining the "little black magic box"--curing rheumatism with tooth-paste, vaseline, and hair oil--women as currency--gin, gold, and cows pay for the picture rights--the "flu" strikes--jennie, the "blaau app," and the peacocks' tails chapter xiii i start for new york--the religious atmosphere on shipboard--"flu" attacks the javanese--the missionaries refuse to help--sharks as scavengers--the little mother's end--evils of liquor--assembling our party in new york--passage as freight--st. lucia and a little excitement--the thin magistrate--released on bail chapter xiv obstinate stowaways--free town and a fight--bay rum as a beverage--sugden lets off smoke-bombs--cape town, a party, and some anzacs--oom tuys advises haste--through south africa--americans and boers in ermelo--a hurried visit to swaziland for information--mystery over the coronation--royal gin for labotsibeni--debeseembie drinks and talks chapter xv outfitting for swaziland--our cook becomes "gunga din"--lomwazi's messenger--off for zombode--rossman goes hunting--too much rain--the oxen die and are replaced by donkeys--sneaking liquor through mbabane--ezulweni mosquitoes rival new jersey's--we are unpopular in zombode--manaan's damage suit and settlement chapter xvi labotsibeni refuses to see me--sugden and my men escape assassination--a fruitless conference--we flee to lebombo--oom tuys turns up--we confer with queen tzaneen and lochien--five-and-ten-cent- store jewelry has persuasive powers--sugden falls ill--we build his coffin--sebuza returns from his sanctification chapter xvii l'tunga's "muti" cures the sick white man--sebuza chooses his wives--i receive a message from his majesty's high commissioner for swaziland--a flying trip to mbabane--the government refuses to sanction sebuza's coronation--how witch-doctors smoke dagga chapter xviii witch-doctors of swaziland--how they brought a famine--l'tunga's school of witch-doctoring--the "poison test" to settle ownership--the professional witch-doctor's equipment--l'tunga decides a murder case--some genuine cures chapter xix wearisome delay in coronation--war suggestions from umzulek--my plan to bluff labotsibeni--the bluff is called--a ticklish situation-- labotsibeni refuses to surrender the throne--our demonstration fails--night murders provoke war chapter xx lebombo threatened with attack--tzaneen flies to us for protection--victory for sebuza--labotsibeni's mysterious death--lomwazi spared for execution later--funeral sacrifice of the old queen--queen tzaneen in state--we are forced to join the royal impi chapter xxi our sanctification in exile--hardships in the hills--oom tuys saves lomwazi's life--the celebration--lomwazi formally surrenders the throne--we are inducted into the royal impi--mbabane sends for information--we escape through portuguese territory to america list of illustrations swazi mother carrying her babe _frontispiece_ facing page map of swaziland map showing section of south africa the result of the national sport interior of military barracks princesses and maid taking a morning bath young princesses amiably engaged in hair-dressing swazi girls pudana, favorite to the old queen labotsibeni an actual combat in which the man on the left was slain a type of dress worn by the royal executioner lomwazi, son and prime minister to the old queen queen tzaneen, mother of the crown prince queen tzaneen with some zulu princesses umzulek, a resourceful and influential exile swazi warriors and women dancing princesses of royal birth queen labotsibeni, mother of king buno lomwazi and his council of indunas, or war chiefs the stream that divides the royal from the common ground type of afrikander cattle swazi women at home on the way to the royal kraal at zombode the second trip into swaziland mother feeding her baby maiden singing to the crown prince sebuza dr. o'neil and companions are received by queen tzaneen dr. o'neil, queen tzaneen, dr. sugden, and mr. crespinell wives of the prime minister to sebuza queen tzaneen and lochien princesses at the sacred bathing pool a scene at the royal bathing pool interior of the royal kraal chief witch-doctor of swaziland a school of witch-doctors a swazi seminary or school for young witch-doctors crown prince sebuza in festival dress crown prince sebuza lochien, commander-in-chief of prince sebuza's impis warriors of prince sebuza's impis starting out to battle one of the royal impis priests building the sacred fire a view of the kraal mr. crespinell at home among his black brethren dr. sugden, prince lomwazi, and dr. o'neil dr. o'neil, mr. crespinell, and dr. sugden after their induction into the royal impi adventures in swaziland chapter i how the o'neils came to the transvaal--boers with irish names--oom paul's refusal to buy delagoa bay--the boers break for freedom--their bloody battles with the savage tribes--the great trek--dingaanzulu's treachery--the dingaan day celebration. i was born only a few days trek, or march, from the swazi border and even as a youth made numerous trips into swaziland. through my uncle, oom tuys grobler, known as "the white king of swaziland," i was practically adopted by the savage rulers of that country and have always been received with the greatest honor and consideration by the various members of its royal family. my family have always been interested in swaziland and there was seldom a time when one of my ten brothers was not hunting or visiting there. as one of the o'neils of rietvlei, which means "the valley of reeds," any of us were welcome. it may seem strange that boers should bear the name o'neil, but this is not out of the ordinary in the transvaal. there are many boer families, most of them prominent in south africa, who have irish names. my father's first wife was a madden and our homestead at rietvlei is only about seven miles from the town of belfast, which our family founded and named. the record is not clear how these irish names are found among the boers, but the fact that many boers have celtic names refutes the statement that most of the irish who fought against the british in the boer war were renegades from the united kingdom. my father is richard charles o'neil, known among our people as "slim gert," or "slick dick" as it would be americanized, the title being a tribute to his astuteness and good business sense. he was for six years minister of finance in the cabinet of the late oom paul kruger, who has come to be regarded as one of the really great south africans, his fame being greater to-day than at the time of his death. father split with oom paul over the delagoa bay question and resigned from his cabinet. at that time the portuguese offered to sell delagoa bay to oom paul for twenty thousand pounds. this was shortly before the boer war. father strongly advocated the purchase, since it would give our people an outlet on the coast, the bay being a fine harbor. oom paul, however, emphatically refused to buy. "it would only give our enemies, the english, a chance to attack us from the sea," he said, ending the cabinet conference. "now they can't get to us through portuguese territory." to-day delagoa bay could not be bought for twenty million pounds. my grandfather was john james o'neil, a direct descendant of the o'neil who fled from ireland in the time of oliver cromwell, and it was he who chose rietvlei as the family farm. when i say "farm," i use the term in the boer sense, since rietvlei includes more than , acres of the most fertile land in the transvaal and is quite large even for south africa, the country of vast distances. as one of the survivors of "the great trek," my grandfather had suffered the most intense hardships and escaped dangers that are almost unbelievable to-day. this trek was the wholesale migration of boers who were dissatisfied with british rule and had decided to carve out a country for themselves in what was then wildest africa. the original boers were the descendants of the huguenots who were expelled from france to holland and eventually went overseas. they made their chief settlement in what is now cape town, then a port of call for the far-flung commerce of the dutch, who were at that time the dominant maritime nation. the british took cape town from the dutch in , but returned the colony to holland a few years later. finally, in , the dutch ceded cape town to the british for a sum said to be six million pounds. up to that time the settlers of the cape colony had only branched out as far as the great fish river. this was the limit of safety, since beyond lay trackless wastes and millions of savage natives noted for their hostility and cannibalism. practically all these settlers were the ancestors of the present boers. as is occasionally the case in present times, it was the missionaries who caused the trouble that led to the breaking up of the old boer homes in cape colony. a number of these religious gentlemen came out from england and lived for a short time in the colony. on their return to london they misrepresented facts to the king to such an extent that a number of restrictive laws and regulations were passed. these made life impossible for the boers, who have always been a freedom-loving people. finally about ten thousand of the burghers got together and commenced their exodus from cape colony into the unknown territory beyond the great fish river. the zulus and basutus met the first party, there was a bitter fight, and every boer man, woman and child was massacred. in many cases, when the men realized that there was no hope, they killed their own womenfolk so that they might not fall into the hands of the savages. this bloody tragedy did not deter the determined boers. other parties followed, and soon these pioneers founded various settlements. every foot of their advance was gained by fighting, and the boer conquest of the transvaal and orange free state may well be said to have been won by the blood of freemen. some of these expeditions settled in natal and founded the city of pietermaritzburg, named after their great leader, pieter maritz. it was during the year that my grandfather joined the great trek and left cape colony with a large expedition led by piet retief and piet potgier. the party had much trouble with the zulus, its progress being a continuous fight. on reaching the vaal river, potgier and retief came to loggerheads and agreed to separate. each had his own opinion as to where they ought to go, and each followed his own idea. my grandfather remained with retief and thereby nearly lost his life. with my grandfather was his brother, richard charles o'neil, after whom my father was named. piet retief was killed by the zulus, and this massacre is now history, almost sacred history, in the transvaal. it seems that retief led his party into what is now natal and there undertook to come to some basis of peace with the savages. a truce was declared, and he went to the zulu royal kraal and saw their great chief, dingaanzulu. the chief agreed to cede certain territory to retief if the boer would recover for the zulus certain cattle stolen from them by another savage nation. this land was to be the first of the new republic of natalia, which my grandfather and retief planned to found. retief recovered the cattle and with one hundred burghers visited the zulu royal kraal and returned them to dingaanzulu. after the cattle were driven in the zulu chief sent for the boer leader, ostensibly to arrange about the land grant. he insisted that the boers were now his friends and, as such, should leave their weapons outside the royal kraal and enter unarmed. the ruthless zulu chief said that this would be "an evidence of the good hearts of the white men." with great foreboding retief did as he was asked. with his hundred men he went into the kraal and found dingaanzulu in the most friendly frame of mind. after fraternization the chief told the boers that a great celebration had been prepared in their honor, and that night there was feasting, dancing, and much speech-making in front of the great fires. i have often heard what happened next. it is history with us and tradition with the zulus, swazis, and other natives of our section of the transvaal. the story was first told me by an old zulu who was a sort of farm-helper at our home when i was a little fellow. he claimed to have been there, and from his evidence i believe he was. "there was a great feast and all the fires were lighted," he said. "many cattle had been killed and all the royal impis (regiments) were in full costume. these were the picked men of all zululand, and they danced for a long time before the fires. "dingaanzulu sat with the white leader, and they drank tswala (kaffir beer) together. often they would shake hands, and it was as though they were brothers. all the other white men sat near the fires in front of the king. they, too, had much tswala and plenty to eat. "when it was quite late and the moon shone through the flames of the dying fires, many of the royal impi gathered behind those who were dancing and waited for a sign from dingaanzulu. soon this came, and then the killing! dingaanzulu stood up and threw his leopard-skin cloak about his shoulders. this was the sign. the waiting warriors dashed through the dancers and threw themselves upon the white men. assegais flashed, and the boer leader dashed to his men. these held together and fought the impis with bare hands. some of the white men were very strong and tore assegais from the warriors and fought with them, stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing! "but there were hundreds, even thousands, of zulus to each white man, and the fight could not last long. all the white men were killed, and some were stabbed scores of times before they died. i do not know how their leader died, but we found him with a broken assegai in his hand and seven dead warriors about him." as soon as dingaanzulu had murdered retief and his band, he sent his impis to kill all the remaining members of the expedition. my grandfather and his brother were in charge of the main encampment, or laager, at weenan, which means "weeping," or "place of sorrow." the wagons had been formed into a hollow square, and the boers finally drove off the zulus after a fight lasting several days. hundreds of the savages were killed, and the boers lost a large number of men who could ill be spared. then my grandfather and his party settled in the district surrounding majuba hill. his brother founded the place known as "o'neil's farm" at the foot of majuba, while my grandfather established and named the village of belfast on the top of the hill. following this he moved to potchefstroom, and from there north-east, where he established the republic of lydenburg. these various little republics were discontinued, or rather merged into the modern form of government, when the boers became sufficiently numerous and communications were established. after the establishment of the republic of lydenburg my grandfather discovered rietvlei, the "valley of reeds," which has been the o'neil homestead ever since. the massacre of retief and his devoted band is celebrated yearly by a three-day holiday in the transvaal and orange free state. the celebration is in the nature of a memorial service, followed by rejoicing. about every eighty miles throughout the boer country a spot is designated, and the burghers, with their families, trek to this place. this trek is symbolic of the "great trek" in which their ancestors died. on the first day of the celebration there is a sham battle in which the fight at weenan is acted again, and the last two days are given over to religious services and the festivities. all self-respecting boer families join in the dingaan day celebration, many of them coming scores of miles to do so. the children are taught the story of "the day" in the schools, and it is probably the most important civic celebration of the year. piet potgier's party was entirely wiped out, none surviving attacks made by the combined impis of the zulus and basutus. chapter ii rietvlei, the "valley of reeds"--the o'neil homestead--pioneer hardships--the war against maleuw, "the lion"--"slim gert" o'neil breaks the power of the makateese king--jafta, king of the mapors--my boyhood and "jass"--sibijaan, "the skunk," becomes my pal--my first trousers nearly cost me an eye--our toy factory and mimic battles--oom tuys grobler tells of swaziland and king buno, "the terrible." rietvlei is one of the most beautiful accidents of nature i have ever seen. to properly appreciate this wonderful valley of reeds, it should be approached across the high veldt. to reach it in this way is to receive a thrill that is seldom felt when viewing any scene. it is set like a jewel in the wilderness of the veldt and seems more like a sunken oasis than anything else. time and time again i have been almost startled when i suddenly saw rietvlei. as you ride across the high veldt you are struck by its utter barrenness and the thousands of ant-hills on all sides. the wild grasses, browned by the sun, are higher than your horse's belly and far in the distance are the barren hills. the veldt, with its altitude of about seven thousand feet, is much like the plains of arizona, new mexico, and texas. it is almost desert. hundreds of times i have crossed this veldt on my hairy boer pony and always the same thing has happened. several times, sometimes scores of times, springbok, blesbok, or duiker, the antelopes of the veldt, have jumped to their feet and scampered off through the tall grass. my pony would give one leap and then dash madly after them. if i was day-dreaming, i was likely to find myself unhorsed and facing a chase after my active steed. however, one gets used to such interruptions and it was seldom that i did not enjoy the chase. it is no use to think that a boer pony can be prevented from pursuing these antelope; he is trained to do it from the first time he feels a saddle, and his quickness often makes it possible for the shot that provides fresh meat that night in camp. after miles and miles of veldt, with the distant hills seeming to recede as one goes on, the fascination of space loses its grip and the fatigue of monotony follows. about the time i would begin to feel like a sailor adrift in mid-ocean the blessed relief would come--i would reach rietvlei! my pony would come to a sudden stop on the rim of a great precipice and thousands of feet below i would see the valley of reeds with the settlement that meant home. the high veldt breaks off abruptly, as though cut with a giant knife, exactly like parts of the grand cañon of the colorado in america. since the beginning of time the little rivers of rietvlei have worn down the veldt until they have hollowed out thousands and thousands of acres. from the cool high veldt to the fertile green valley of reeds is a wonderful change, and it takes a full hour to climb down the winding trail. my grandfather, john james o'neil, was the first white man to see rietvlei and he immediately decided that he need look no further for his home. he at once settled there and went through many hardships to found his home. the natives inhabiting the valley were the mapors, then a powerful and hostile tribe. my father built our present home, which is of white limestone, iron, and wood, all of which had to be brought some six hundred miles by ox-teams. it was many years before the house was completed, but my father intended it as the permanent home of the o'neils and it will stand for centuries. the hardships endured by my grandfather and father were such as would have daunted less stern men, but they were boers and all africa knows them to be the greatest pioneers the world has ever seen. jafta, king of the mapors, whose royal kraal was about forty-eight miles from my home, was my family's greatest enemy. both my grandfather and father were constantly at war with him and were forced to maintain a large force of fighting men to repel his attacks. there was always the threat that jafta would overwhelm the little band of doughty boers in the valley, and the white men practically lived with their guns in their hands. those were anxious days for the womenfolk. all supplies had to be brought in from the coast, and the wagons were months on the way. sometimes they would be gone for nearly a year and during all this time the women never knew but that some hostile native tribe had overwhelmed the devoted burghers and killed all their men. dogged, dauntless, and determined, the men won through time after time, until there broke out the great war fomented by maleuw, king of the makateese. he was known as "the lion" and was a very able savage, brave, cunning, and a born leader of men. maleuw became obsessed with the idea that the white men should be driven out, and with this object provoked a war with jafta, king of the mapors. it seems that jafta, although he had been carrying on his private feud against the white men, did not care to join maleuw and refused to aid him. the makateese were the most warlike nation at that time, probably owing to the inspiration of "the lion," and they swept down on the mapors with the expressed intention of exterminating them. the war was most sanguinary. no prisoners were taken, and it soon began to look as though the mapors would be wiped out. the white men made no effort toward peace, taking the view that the more of their enemies were killed the safer life would be for them. soon jafta and his troops were in full flight, and then the white men found themselves facing another and more real danger. with maleuw victorious he could rally additional armies, and this meant he would be powerful enough to drive the white men out and probably kill most of them. under my father, slim gert o'neil, a council of war was called at rietvlei and the leading boers and some of the british settlers attended. chiefs of the basuto and swazi nations were sent for, and it was decided to save the remnants of the mapor nation and in so doing break the power of "the lion" and his makateese armies. umbandine was king of swaziland at that time. king maleuw found himself attacked by a large army made up of boers, british, basutos, mapors, and swazis, and there were several fierce battles. in some manner the makateese had obtained a number of rifles and there was much loss of life on both sides. this war ended with the utter crushing of maleuw and his army, and since then the makateese have never threatened the peace of the transvaal. the final battle was the storming of maleuw's kraal, which was a veritable fortress on the top of a steep hill about five hundred feet high. the hill is now known as "maleuwkop," in memory of the old "lion." it was practically impregnable to a native army using only savage weapons. the "palace" proper was on the top of the hill and was entirely surrounded by walls of thorn trees and prickly-pear cactus. these thorn trees are most formidable, the thorns being about three inches long and sharp as needles. the boers call them "haakensteek," which is translated into "catch-and-stick." the british call them "wait-a-bit" thorns, and under either name they are equally dangerous. outside the thorn wall there was a row of huts in which the picked warriors of maleuw lived. below the huts came another thorn wall and another row of huts. there were eight or ten such settlements, each guarded by its own wall. i have heard many tales of the battle, which lasted all day. finally the white men broke through the various thorn walls, and that was the end of the makateese peril. my father in telling of the fight has often said, "if we had had one field-gun--only a little one--we could have blown 'the lion' out of his lair and saved many lives." shortly after this war i was born at rietvlei. i was the youngest of ten sons and spent my entire childhood without white playmates, except for my sister, ellen, always my favorite. one of my earliest recollections is of seeing king jafta when he paid ceremonial visits to my father. under the conditions upon which the boers agreed to help him against the makateese, jafta had ceded certain rich territories to oom paul kruger. this land president kruger sold to my father, who made an agreement with jafta whereby the savage but now king-in-reduced-circumstances was allowed to remain in possession for a certain length of time. it was in connection with this agreement that jafta would visit rietvlei at certain intervals. i was only a little child then, but i can remember the fallen king well. owing to his lack of power he could not make much of a showing, but it was necessary that he maintain his kingly dignity on these visits. he would be accompanied by the last of his officers and a small impi, or regiment, and my father would treat with him exactly as though he were the powerful chief of former times. jafta remembered this later and repaid us by giving us valuable assistance during the boer war, at the time when the british were overrunning our lands. the ceremonies attending jafta's visits were always about the same. his courier would come ahead to announce his arrival, and my father would send word that he was pleased to see him and that his party should approach. then jafta, entirely naked except for an old silk hat my father had given him, would stride into the garden and when my father came out of the house would make an oration. my father would listen most respectfully and then would reply, always addressing the deposed king as "nkoos," which has the same meaning to our kaffirs as "your majesty the king" has to the average britisher. the silk hat was very important in jafta's eyes. it meant much more than a mere personal adornment. my father always wears silk hats, even when traveling about the farm, and jafta attached much significance to the one he wore and always guarded it most carefully. in fact, one of the greatest honors he could confer on any of his officers was to make one of them official guardian of the hat when he was not wearing it. this was the savage conception of the coveted post of "keeper of the crown jewels" that is found in some present-day monarchies. however, jafta finally came on more evil days. owing to certain outside influences which were brought to bear upon him and to which he acceded, it became necessary to take severe measures, and he and his small band of followers were removed from the territory my father had loaned them. this was rather sad, because this land had been the site of the royal kraal of the mapors since time immemorial. nevertheless, we have continued to employ mapors on the farm and have a number of families there now. my old nurse was a mapor woman. she was faithfulness personified, and i led her a merry dance. her only garment was a loin cloth made of a duiker skin, and on account of her scant clothing my older brothers nick-named her "jass," which means "overcoat." jass was the mother of several little mapors, the scars on her forehead showing their number. like all the other savages in the transvaal, the mapors practice scarification to a great extent. the women are scarred either on the forehead or breasts, while the men are entitled to a scar on the forehead for each enemy they have killed. until i was sent to boarding-school in grahamstown, that is, until i was well into my teens, my only companions were little kaffir boys. my best pal was sibijaan, whose name means "the skunk," and even today he is my body servant when i am at home. how we came to possess him is illustrative of conditions in the district surrounding rietvlei. sibijaan and two other little kaffirs were brought to our home early one morning by a neighbor of ours who had captured them on our property. it seems they belonged to some tribe that had recently been wiped out by the zulus and had been fleeing north to get away from the death that caught their people. i have never seen so miserable a trio as these poor little natives. they were almost starved and were unutterably dirty. in addition, they were in a state of most pitiable terror. they regarded the white men with bulging eyes and seemed only to want a place to hide. since they had been captured on our farm, they belonged to us. my mother was at home at the time, and the neighbor and she had a pretty argument as to the disposal of the captives. i listened to all of it, keeping one eye on the little boys and wondering how i would feel if i were in their place. finally my mother agreed that the neighbor should have the largest of the three, since he was big enough to be of some use in herding cattle and sheep. the two little fellows were to belong to us, and subsequent events proved that we had much the best of the bargain. the one taken by our neighbor soon escaped, while our captives quickly became devoted to us and are with us yet. the elder of the two was sibijaan, and my mother gave him to me for my own servant and playmate. several of my brothers happened to be spending a few days at the farm at this time and they gave sibijaan his name. dick did the naming when he said, "the little nigger would make a skunk blush with envy. let's call him the skunk!" sibijaan and i soon had definite tasks assigned to us. on a boer farm no one rests--all have their work, even to the women and children. we were sent out to mind the sheep, of which my father had thousands, and were given about a dozen other little kaffirs as assistants. i was about seven years old at this time, big and strong for my age. during those years there was a great lack of traders in our section of the transvaal. this was due to the continuous wars in which the native tribes fought one another and now and then raided a boer farm. traders had been killed and their goods stolen, and none ever stopped at the valley of reeds. this meant that my father had to outfit expeditions and make the long journey to the coast and back again, if we were to have any of the civilized necessities or luxuries. our neighbors would join in these expeditions, and often there would be a score of ox-wagons and several score boers in the parties. i remember these expeditions well for many reasons--my mother used to spend anxious months during my father's absence and about this time there was an expedition which brought me my first pair of trousers. these, in turn, were the cause of my receiving an injury to one of my eyes from which i never fully recovered. my father had been away for seven months this time and we had begun to fear that hostile natives had attacked the caravan and done him some harm. many and many such an outfit had been wiped out by the zulus, makateese, or other hostile tribes, and there never was any assurance that the few rifles of the boers could stop the rush of the savage impis. on this occasion sibijaan and i were minding a small herd of sheep on the little plateau that overlooks the heart of rietvlei. we were quite busy trying to drive the flock to a better feeding-ground when sibijaan suddenly stopped and listened. "strangers coming!" he shouted. "i smell oxen and wagons. white men coming up the rietvlei!" we looked in the direction he indicated and saw a cloud of dust creeping along the rough road. a second later a man in a silk hat, riding a familiar horse, emerged from the dust. even at that distance i could see the rifle across his saddle. it was slim gert o'neil, my father. sibijaan and i, followed by all the other little kaffirs, raced to the wagons, where my father swung me on his horse and greeted me most affectionately. a few moments later occurred the first really great event of my life--i received my first trousers! my father took me back to one of the wagons and presented me with a stout pair of corduroys. i was overjoyed and danced up and down, sibijaan and the other little savages joining me, as though at a celebration. now, i felt, at last i am a real white man, and the distance between my black playmates and myself seemed to become immense. a little later i had slipped into the trousers and was proudly marching at the head of my little impi. we saw the wagons into the home kraal and then went back to our sheep. i was the hero of the hour among my playmates, and this led to the injury that has affected my eye ever since. sibijaan, who had always shared with me the leadership of our impi, lost caste when i donned the trousers and instinctively became the kaffir. this hurt him, and late in the afternoon he made me the following proposition: "klein baas (meaning 'little boss')," he said, in his pathetic earnestness forgetting to address me by my native name, "mzaan bakoor," "you have been wearing the trousers all day. don't you think it is my turn to wear them? we are both indunas (leaders) of our impi; it is not right that one should be better than the other. let me wear the trousers until sundown and show our men that we are brothers-in-arms!" this seemed reasonable to me. sibijaan and i had shared our joys and woes for several years and there was no reason for my refusing him the honor of wearing the wonderful corduroys. we changed. i put on his beads and he got into my corduroys. then came a perfect exhibition of the kaffir temperament. sibijaan became insufferably arrogant. he gave orders to our impi, and for a moment i thought he was going to try and command me. the more he lorded it over the others, the more sullen and angered they became. of course the inevitable happened. several of the little lads demanded that they be allowed their turn at wearing the trousers, the badge of authority, as it were. sibijaan refused. "no, no, you cannot wear them!" he shouted. "now i am a man; i am almost white! i am a man and you are little boys! who am i that i should take notice of such dirt?" but he did. this last insult was too much. the indignant lads attacked sibijaan, and in a second there was a squirming mass of black legs, arms, and bodies, with my precious trousers in danger of destruction. we all had assegais, or short stabbing spears, and regardless of these i dashed into the mêlée. death or wounds were little things compared to the loss of those trousers. when the fight was over i had been stabbed in the eye, but i had the trousers! practically every boy had at least one wound, and one of the little fellows died before we got him back to the house where he could have attention. owing to lack of proper medical care my eye was allowed to get well without expert attention and will always show the effects of this trouser-fight. from then on, however, i wore the trousers. i shall always remember my father's comment on this happening. he asked me how the row had started and who had stabbed the boy to death. it was practically impossible to determine the latter, and i explained why. he listened in his quiet way and then gave me a talking to. "yours is the guilt for the death of that boy," he said. "you forgot you were a boer and lowered yourself to the level of a mapor! when you gave sibijaan the trousers you became as the dirt under his feet. white men wear clothes; kaffirs go naked. does my son, the son of slim gert o'neil, want to be a nigger?" only in one other way did sibijaan threaten my supremacy as the undisputed leader of our impi. this was due to his extraordinary knack in handling clay in the making of models of all kinds. not far from the house, along the bank of the river, there was a large clay-bank. i established a toy factory there and we made all sorts of clay toys, including idols, oxen, horses, and models of everything we handled in our daily life. to make it a contest sibijaan and i, with our followers, used to compete with klaas and his in the excellency of our models. my sister, ellen, was the judge. klaas, by the way, was the other little kaffir who was captured at the same time our neighbor brought sibijaan to us. klaas would make a number of things, and his followers would duplicate them. then he would challenge us to do better, and we would get to work. many and many a day we spent in this toy factory, and the competition was keen. soon, however, sibijaan began to outstrip all of us in the excellency of his models. he was so much better at the play than i was that i soon found myself ashamed to place my models against his. i found myself again in danger of losing caste and soon hit upon an idea that saved my face. now the boers are a deeply religious people. in our home we always had morning and evening prayers and the fact that we were scores of miles from the nearest church was the only reason that we did not attend one. not long before the toy factory began to be a sore spot with me, a minister of the dutch church had visited rietvlei. he was visiting the outlying districts of the transvaal and performing marriages and christenings. naturally, the minister held services, the most interesting part being the sermon. he spoke with great force and many gestures, all of them most emphatic. like all the boers, he was bearded and had shaggy brows. i found his sermon most entertaining, although i understood little of what he said. however, the sermon gave me an idea. i decided i would be a minister and the very next day commenced preaching. there was a ruined kraal, formerly the residence of a long-dead cannibal chief, on a little hill near home. i summoned sibijaan, klaas, and all the others of our impi to attend services there, and then proceeded to deliver a loud harangue to them. as i spoke in dutch, with now and then a mapor phrase, they did not understand much of what i said, but i made up for this by my forceful delivery. the natives are never more happy than when delivering an oration, the words illustrated with full-arm gestures, and i found my audience most appreciative. religious services as i conducted them appealed to the savage mind, and sibijaan's superiority as an artist faded to nothing. shortly after the minister's visit, my uncle, oom tuys grobler, came to stay with us for a time. he had come from swaziland and brought wondrous tales of battles there. i do not remember what war was going on, but oom tuys made us believe that war was the chief occupation of the swazis. he used to while away the long evenings by telling me about king buno and his mother, queen labotsibeni. to my childish mind buno appeared as the embodiment of all things savage and ruthless, while his mother was not much better. i was fired with the desire to visit swaziland and see the great king buno, and i asked oom tuys to take me with him on his next trip. he did not refuse, but tried to discourage me by relating weird stories of how white boys were sacrificed and eaten by the swazi warriors. these tales did not impress me very much, since i felt that i would be safe with my uncle, who was known throughout the transvaal as the only boer king buno trusted. these tales of battle inspired sibijaan, klaas, and myself with military ardor, and soon we prepared to play the game of war. this was only the play of little black boys led by a white, but out of it came my native name. i am called "mzaan bakoor" by all the natives of our section of the transvaal. the name means "he of the great ears," or "he who hears everything." how i earned the name illustrates our method of warfare. klaas would lead one force, and sibijaan and myself the other. our weapons were long reeds and pellets of clay. the pellets would be fixed on the end of the reed and thrown with a full-arm swing. they would travel like a stone from a sling, and after a short time we became very proficient in their use. we could hit our target more times than not, and i well remember that one of these clay pellets made a dangerous missile. the battle would start at long range, and sometimes would continue for hours before we got to grips. when we were satisfied with the long-range execution, we would rush together and attack one another with our hands. sibijaan invented the method followed in this close-range fighting. adversaries would pair off, each grasping the other by the ears. then would ensue an ear-pulling match which was only decided when one of the warriors cried quits. because i seemed able to stand any amount of this torture, they called me "mzaan bakoor," and the name has been mine ever since. this method of ear-pulling was another tribute to sibijaan's cunning, for both his ears had been bitten off in the trouser-fight and it was practically impossible for any one to hang on to the remains! in addition to herding the sheep, we boys were in charge of a herd of about two hundred little calves. our chief work with these was to prevent them getting to their mothers, the milch cows of the farm. each morning and evening the calves were allowed to spend half an hour with their mothers, but the rest of the time they had to go without milk. milking time was always a busy period for us. the cows were kept in kraals, or open enclosures, and each morning we would have to catch them for the milkers. this was done with a rope-loop on the end of a long stick. when the cow was captured the rope would be passed around a post, the cow being drawn in and securely tied. the suckling calf was then brought to its mother, and this soothes the animal. as soon as the cow was quiet, her hinds legs and tail were tied together and she was ready for milking. the milker would get ready, and then we would have to drive the calf away and keep it away with a long stick until the milking was finished. it was all a primitive and strenuous performance, but these afrikander cattle are very wild and cannot be handled. another busy period for us would be during the sheep-shearing season. the sheep are divided into lots and classes, being ear-marked, and it used to be our work to keep them together and make ourselves generally useful. another duty which fell to us was the leading of the ox-teams, for, in fact, the boys of my impi could be used for every service not requiring the strength of a man. during all these busy boyhood days i lived practically the outdoor life of a savage. my early education was given me by my mother and my father's private secretary, an englishman with a university training. i was quick to learn my lessons, chiefly because success meant speedy escape to the wild pastimes of the little savages who were my companions. practically all our sports had to do with war and the hunt, so that i grew up to regard death as only an incident in the life of a warrior and not an event to be feared or worried about. however, on my first visit to buno, then king of swaziland, i saw death in a form that shocked me by its needless brutality and utter wastefulness. chapter iii my desire to visit king buno--how i won the trip on a bet--a boer race meet--"black hand tom," the hope of rietvlei--klaas's ride to save his skin--father gives permission for my visit--belfast celebrates the boer victory. my absolute conviction that no one in the world owned a faster horse than "black hand tom," my father's favorite, earned me my first visit to swaziland. this was during the summer after the great drought, when the bloody rule of king buno had become the shame of south africa. day after day i had heard tales about swaziland that fed my desire to go and see some of these things, and oom tuys never forgot to make my hair stand on end with his stories about his friend, buno, and his warriors. i was just in my teens and the desire to visit swaziland was the one thing i lived for. whenever tuys came to visit my father i would get him aside and beg him to take me with him on his next trip. indeed, i kept after him until i became a nuisance. each time he would promise, and then find a good reason for putting me off until some time later. his evasions only whetted my appetite for swaziland, but it was a kind fate, combined with a little boy's abiding faith in his father, that finally won the day for me. like all the boers, my father was a great horse fancier and took pride in several fast animals that he had bred at rietvlei. looking back, i realize that these must have been very good horses, their forebears being imported stock of the best european blood. it was in the summer of that my father arranged a race meet at belfast, about eight miles from our home. this was the nearest town, and the race was to be the crowning event of a sort of festival lasting several days. previously my father had caused the word to get abroad that he had several of the fastest horses in the transvaal, but that he was keeping them under cover, hoping for a chance to win some races at large odds. of course all boers are good sportsmen and keenly interested in racing; in addition, there were a number of sporting englishmen who noted the fact that slim gert o'neil was training horses in the valley of reeds. the result was what my father anticipated. word was sent to him by the sporting crowd in johannesburg that they did not believe that any of his horses were "worth the powder to blow them to hell"--as the message was delivered by oom tuys. my father took this to heart and sent back word that the johannesburgers were invited to bring their race horses, "if they had any worthy of the name," to the race meet at belfast. there was a little further correspondence, which bordered on insult on the part of the johannesburgers, and the arrangements were completed for the meet. [illustration: swaziland drawn by dr. owen rowe o'neil] [illustration: section of south africa showing swaziland and its relative position to other states] my father sent mapor and swazi runners to all the boer farms within a week's trek of rietvlei, announcing the races and inviting his friends to "come and see what a country-bred can do against the pick of the transvaal and orange free state." it was a great day for all us little fellows when we moved on belfast. all but a few old women left rietvlei, and we arrived in belfast to find thousands of strangers thronging the town. boer farmers had trekked in from almost a hundred miles away, and i have never seen so many great bearded men in my life. with their great slouch hats and heavy boots, they could be seen swinging along the streets in all directions. there were literally thousands of kaffirs, mapors, swazis, makateese, and zulus, who belonged to the various parties of boers and who kept close to them as they wandered about belfast. some of the native tribes were at war at that time, i remember, and there was some fear that there might be an outbreak in the town. this fear was quelled, however, when word was passed that the first kaffir who raised a hand would be shot on sight by the nearest boer. he would have been, too, because the boers never hesitate when dealing with the blacks. always our people have been firm in their dealings with the natives, with the result that they have a wholesome respect for us. it is the english, newly arrived in the transvaal, who make all the trouble with the kaffirs. particularly do the english and american missionaries create dissension among them. they give the kaffirs mistaken ideas about their importance in the scheme of things and lead them to believe that they are as good as white people. taking it all in all, they have created more trouble than they have done good. the missionaries seldom change their teachings, but the englishmen soon wake up and after they have been in our country for about a year know how to treat the natives. there was no trouble in belfast, although it was said that there were several combats outside the town in which about a score of blacks were killed and wounded. our arrival for the races must have been quite an impressive event. my father on his great horse, wearing his silk hat, led the procession. then all his sons and several of the girls followed, on horses also, and then came my mother in a light road-wagon. after her came our horses, led by mapors, and behind them came several hundred of our retainers, all decked out in their festival costumes and carrying their short spears and knob-kerries, or fighting clubs. oom tuys met us at the edge of the town. he was riding a great roan horse and was accompanied by a number of father's friends. from his gestures i knew that he was excited, and i slyly pressed my horse forward until i could hear what he was saying. "the johannesburgers have brought their best," he told father. "slim gert, you will have to have all the luck in the world to beat their horses. never have i seen better! they have also brought much money and are waiting for you to bet. will you bet with them? i advise you not to. they have the best jockeys in the transvaal, too!" "we shall see; we shall see," was all father would say. "they are at the hotel and they wait for you," oom tuys went on. "i told them that i would bring you to them." my father seemed to start at this, and i saw him look sharply at tuys. then the color mounted in his cheek. "who are they that i should go to them?" he asked indignantly. "why should an o'neil of rietvlei wait on these common gamblers from johannesburg? if they want to see me, let them come to my house!" my father had a house in belfast where he transacted business and often spent the night when it was too late or too rainy to return to the valley of reeds. soon we reached the center of the town and found thousands waiting to welcome us. all the boers knew slim gert o'neil and his sons, and we received an ovation. we passed through the town to father's house, and the horses were placed in the small kraal at the rear. he looked them over, oom tuys also being a keenly interested observer, and then went into the house. we boys remained outside, and it was one of the proudest moments of my life. so proud was i that i felt impelled to tell all the town boys what i really thought about father's horses and in particular about the speed of "black hand tom." "he is so fast," i assured them, "that he outruns bullets. only the lightning can catch him, and i am not any too sure about that!" some of the boys jeered at my claim, and thereupon ensued a small battle. my impi backed me up, and it began to look as though some one would be badly hurt when oom tuys dashed out of the house and scattered us. "mzaan bakoor, you little devil!" he shouted, catching me by the ears. "why do you make so much fight? why do you tell such lies? 'black hand tom' will only eat the dust of these johannesburg horses. they are race horses!" now this was sacrilege. to hear my uncle, the great "white king of swaziland," say such a thing gave me such a shock that i forgot to kick his shins for tweaking my ears. then came my inspiration! brought up among sportsmen, i seized my chance. "if 'black hand tom' is so slow, then you bet against him. i dare you!" i said. "of course i will. i am no fool!" tuys assured me. "all right, oom tuys, then you bet with me first," i said. "if 'black hand tom' wins his race, you must take me with you to see king buno the next time you go. i dare you to make your promise good. if father's horse loses, i'll never ask you to take me to swaziland again!" tuys let me go and hesitated a moment. i taunted him and dared him to take my bet, and he finally agreed. "if 'black hand tom' wins, you leave for swaziland with me in two weeks," he promised. we went into the house and found several of the johannesburg gamblers there, waiting to talk to my father. they were drinking gin and whiskey, and i remember marveling at their wonderful clothes. never before had i seen such waistcoats or such cravats, and their great, soft, light-colored hats were a revelation to me. i particularly noticed that they all smoked long black cigars, wore huge diamonds, and talked in loud coarse voices. soon father's secretary came into the room. in his quiet english way he told them that his master did not care to see them that night and would talk to them in the morning. the races were to be next day and the gamblers left the house quite disgruntled. as they went out of the door i heard one of them say, "never mind, we'll get his money to-morrow!" shortly before prayers that night i told my father what this man had said, but he only smiled in his dry way. "don't worry, owen, my lad," he said. "your father is not always such a fool as he might look. to-morrow night may have another tale to tell!" however, i went to bed much troubled that night. we seemed such country people compared to these flashy horsemen from the great city of johannesburg. i tried to sleep though quite unhappy at the thought that father might be mistaken, but his quiet confidence somehow reassured me to a certain extent. my father was a very great man to me--the greatest in the world--great even when compared to oom paul kruger, our idol. it seemed impossible that his horse should not be the best and, comforted by my faith, i finally fell asleep. oh, the glories of the next day, the day of the races! even before breakfast we boys trudged to the race track and watched several horses working out. two of them were from johannesburg, and even their blankets failed to hide the fact that they were fast. in addition to their white trainers, each horse seemed to have almost a dozen kaffirs in attendance, and all about the track were hundreds of black and white men watching the trials. on all sides of the track, also, could be seen the wagons of the boer farmers who had trekked in to the meet. slender spirals of smoke were rising from each group, showing that breakfast was being prepared. there must have been hundreds of wagons, and the whole territory about the race track was one great camping-ground. we returned to the house to find father and oom tuys out in the kraal carefully examining our horses. i remember how father ran his hands lovingly over the sleek body of "black hand tom." the horse would allow few to approach him, but he nuzzled my father's hand, as though to say, "i'm fit for the race of my life. i will not fail slim gert!" after breakfast, instead of taking our horses to the track, my father had them worked out along the road which ran by the house. later i learned that this was a disappointment to the gamblers from johannesburg. they had hoped to see "black hand tom" on the track before the race, so as to get a line on him. shortly afterward my father and oom tuys rode over to the track, and we all trooped after. early as it was, crowds were beginning to gather and i never saw so many people in my life. i was surprised at the number of white men there. i knew that there were millions of blacks in our country, but was greatly astonished to see so many of our color. father rode among the wagons surrounding the track, greeting his friends and everywhere receiving a joyful welcome. each one asked him about his great horse, and his answer invariably was, "he is ready to do the very best he can. the rest is with god!" this seemed to satisfy the boers, and i know it was all i wanted to hear. i immediately announced to all the lads with me that the race was as good as won. oom tuys took occasion to remind me of our bet and chaffed me, saying, "now you will never see king buno!" this made me wrathy. it was unspeakable that he should doubt that father's horse could do anything but win! while at the track i remembered a little talk i had planned to have with klaas. owing to an uncanny knack with horses, the little beggar had been trained as our jockey and was to ride "black hand tom" in the great race. sibijaan and i returned to the house and looked him up. we found him chumming with the horse, and called him out of the stable. now klaas was smaller and lighter than either sibijaan or myself and stood no chance with us in combat of any sort. we took firm hold of him--sibijaan by his arms and i by his ears--and then i delivered my ultimatum: "you see all these white men, klaas," i said. "they are thieves. they have come here to steal all the ou baas's (old boss's) money. you've got to ride your best to-day. 'black hand tom' is the best horse. he'll win if you ride him right. if you lose, sibijaan and i will kill you! won't we, sibijaan?" my fellow conspirator most emphatically agreed. he made motions that illustrated a neat and expeditious way of cutting klaas's throat and of visiting other unpleasant deaths upon him. klaas was properly impressed. "if i don't win the race i am willing to die!" he said, and with this understanding we returned to the track. i found my father surrounded by the johannesburg gamblers, and squeezed my way into the group to find much betting going on. with boer shrewdness, father was demanding and getting good odds. he took the stand that "black hand tom" had never been raced and had never won a race, while the horses of the others were tried campaigners of great reputation. the gamblers grumbled, but finally gave odds, until father stood to win or lose thousands of pounds. finally race time came. i suppose there never was such a crowd as swarmed about that track. it was about three quarters of a mile around, and the entire circumference was lined with people. the whites were all grouped about the start and finish line, while all the remaining space was one deep belt of black men. there were literally tens of thousands, among them many women. the distance of the race was four times around the track. excitement was intense when the horses came out on the track. it was a perfect day, the sky cloudless and the air like diamonds in its sparkling clearness. "black hand tom" was the last horse out, but the minute he appeared, with klaas perched on his back and all decked out in the o'neil colors, there was a roar from the crowd. i was at the starting-line, sibijaan at my side, and we were fairly dancing with excitement. a moment later the horses--nine of them--were strung out along the line and the starting began. three attempts were made, our horse always being the last over the line. this was criminal in my eyes, and both sibijaan and i shouted threats of sudden death to klaas. on the fourth try they were off and the race was on. if i live to be as old as queen labotisibeni, i shall never forget the agony of that race! round and round the horses went, first one and then another in front. at the end of the first lap "black hand tom" was last. we shouted ourselves hoarse, hurling imprecations at klaas. at the end of the second lap our horse was next to last, and then sibijaan and i knew exactly how we would despatch klaas as soon as we could get hold of him. then came the sensation of the day, of the age! at the first turn of the third lap "black hand tom" swung wide and began to pass the other horses. one by one he caught them and went by. each time he passed one the crowd fairly roared its head off. as they swept by on the beginning of the last lap there were only two horses ahead of ours, and they seemed tiring. at the first turn "black hand tom" passed one and then, on the back stretch, went by the other! the crowd fairly split the heavens. a moment later "black hand tom," the greatest horse in the world, tore over the winning line a good three lengths in the lead! absolute pandemonium broke loose. i remember catching hold of sibijaan and dancing up and down like a lunatic. every one seemed to be doing the same thing. we tore through the mob to where our horse stood entirely surrounded by crazy boers and as many natives as could get close. there was father, quiet and self-contained, with his silk hat on his head at the usual angle. he was as undisturbed as though nothing had happened and seemed more anxious to get out of the crowd than anything else. from all sides his friends crowded in on him, shaking his hand and patting the great horse. klaas, still in the saddle, wore the air of a conquering hero, and some enthusiastic boer had presented him with a lot of money which he held closely clutched to his thin stomach. father spied me and smiled the ghost of a smile. he reached out his hand, and when i took it said, "well, you have won your trip to buno's kraal!" this was the first inkling i had that he knew about the bet, and later i learned that he had agreed to my going because he felt my faith in him and "black hand tom" deserved the trip. that night there was a glorious celebration in belfast. great fires were lighted in the streets and much gin and whiskey was consumed. the kaffirs danced until the small hours and their chants filled the air. we boys were part of it all, and klaas was the hero of the hour. in fact, so great a hero was he that sibijaan and i were glad to bask in his reflected glory. the little beggar fully enjoyed his hour of triumph and it was well he did, for we soon took him down a few pegs when we got him back to rietvlei. chapter iv i leave for my first visit to swaziland--mother warns me about oom tuys--why the boers paid tribute to king buno--queen labotsibeni, the brains of swaziland--buno's visit to oom paul kruger--our reception in swaziland--ezulweni, the "valley of heaven"--buno's rifle--sibijaan and i explore by night. about a fortnight later oom tuys and i left for swaziland. i shall always remember getting ready for the trip. for days and days i added to my little outfit, until by the time oom tuys was ready to start i had accumulated enough dunnage to fill a wagon. when the bluff old man looked it over he turned to my mother and said, "well, you are going to lose your son. owen is going to spend the rest of his life in swaziland; he is taking enough things to last him for the next hundred years!" then he calmly sorted out my kit, leaving me about one tenth of what i had intended taking along. "we travel light, my boy," he said. "we travel fast and take but one wagon, and that a little one." a day later we were off. our caravan consisted of tuys and me on horses, a light cart drawn by six mules, and half a dozen kaffir servants. of course sibijaan went with us, and was elected to the job of driving the mules. the other boys were foot-passengers, their job being to keep the mules moving and do the camp work. my mother knew oom tuys of old and gave me a serious talking to the night before we left. "my son," she said, putting her arms about me, "you must not follow oom tuys too closely. he is wild and sometimes as bad as king buno himself. you will see many things that we boers would not permit here, and you must not take these things too much to heart. remember that you are an o'neil, and take good care of yourself!" then she kissed me good-by with a fervor that was quite unusual. we boers are an unemotional people--that is, on the surface. oom tuys's periodical visits to king buno had always been a mystery to me. i had heard that they concerned some sort of a tribute to the savage king, but my father never encouraged my requests for details. "that is oom tuys's business," he would say. "ask him why he is the servant of buno!" i did, just as soon as we were well on our way. however, i did not use father's words. even big men hesitated to take liberties with tuys, and i was only a boy. it was a wonderful day, and as we rode across the veldt into swaziland tuys told me the whole story of how he became known as "the white king of swaziland." "mzaan bakoor, for i shall call you that while we are in swaziland, just as you shall call me 'nkoos'," he said, "i go each moon to pay king buno the tribute. oom paul sends me, and i always take two thousand gold sovereigns and quantities of gin and champagne." this explained the mysterious cases in the wagon, the contents of which i had not yet dared to ask about. "buno is a very great man," tuys went on. "he is a great king and has as many warriors as the blades of veldt grass. his impis are countless, and just recently he has married tzaneen, a princess of the zulus. "here is how it happened that we boers must pay him tribute. his father, umbandine, built up the swazi power until he had enough warriors to be dangerous to us and to all the surrounding tribes. even the zulus feared him. now buno, guided and advised by his mother, queen labotisibeni, has kept the swazi impis up to the greatest possible fighting strength, and he is the one savage chief we boers have to reckon with. he is my friend, and oom paul depends upon me to keep him satisfied and prevent him from making war on our people. according to the agreement between oom paul and buno, we pay buno the gold and gin each month, and i am the one who brings it to him. lately, however, he has objected to so much gold and wants more gin. buno says he can only look at the gold, but he can drink the gin. this time i am taking an extra supply of gin." tuys explained to me the politics of swaziland and seemed to think that queen labotisibeni was the brains behind king buno's administration. the wanton cruelties of which buno was guilty were contrary to the wishes of his mother, but she only mildly protested against them, since they helped to maintain the king's authority. according to tuys, death was the punishment for all offences, and buno often butchered his people for no reason at all. a short time before our visit to swaziland, king buno had gone to pretoria to see oom paul. for some time buno had been sending complaints and objections about various matters to the president, and tuys would carry these to pretoria. finally oom paul became exasperated and commanded tuys to bring buno to him. "bring buno here," said oom paul, "and i will talk to him like a dutch uncle. we pay too much now, and if he does not soon behave himself, i shall send a commando or two into his country and make a new king in swaziland!" buno's visit to pretoria is a classic in the transvaal and shows the kind of man our old president was. tuys told buno that oom paul was too ill to come to visit him and that he begged that the king of swaziland honor him by coming to pretoria. it took much persuasion on the part of tuys, for buno thought he was too important a person to visit oom paul. finally tuys soothed his royal dignity and they started out for pretoria. it was a remarkable party. buno took with him ten thousand of the picked fighting men of the household troops, and these wore all their savage finery. being of the royal impis, they wore the great white headdresses and carried shields with the king's mark emblazoned thereon. their costumes were the last word in savage gorgeousness. each man was armed with the knob-kerrie, assegai, knife, and shield. at this time the railway from pretoria to delagoa bay was under construction and had already reached middleburg. the party found a special train waiting for them at this place and buno had his own private car. none of the swazis had ever seen a train before and their astonishment at the great "iron horse," as they immediately called the engine, was almost pathetic. when they first saw the engine, seemingly breathing smoke and fire, they were terrified, and tuys had to reassure them to prevent a panic. then a number wanted to prostrate themselves before the engine and worship it, so that it was a most difficult thing to prevent their being run over. according to the various accounts of these incidents tuys had his hands full. buno, however, refused to be much impressed with the engine or train and complained bitterly because he was not given enough gin. it was a wonderful sight when the train pulled out of middleburg. buno, with tuys and the royal party, was in the private coach behind the engine, and the ten thousand warriors were packed in a score of open trucks behind. naturally they all stood, and it was extraordinary to see the thousands of savages in full dress, with wonderment and fear written on their faces, as the train swept by. the trip lasted all night, and when morning came the train pulled into pretoria. at the station a coach and pair of fine horses waited for king buno and tuys. they got in, and then tuys's natural deviltry asserted itself. he slyly poked the driver in the ribs with his revolver and commanded him to drive as fast as he could. a second later they were off at a gallop. [illustration: the result of the national sport two bulls have been killed by a warrior armed only with a short stabbing spear. the bulls are surrounded by a regiment of swazis with spears pointing inward. the bulls become infuriated, and when made as angry as possible, the chosen warrior dashes into the arena and fights them. he has but one choice--either to kill the bulls or be killed by the spears of his comrades-in-arms. sometimes more than two bulls are used, thus making the sport more exciting and the measure of the warrior's prowess greater--if he wins. following the contest, the bulls are eaten at a great feast] [illustration: interior of military barracks a warrior making war decorations. through a peculiar process, hides are treated and worked into shape as braid, which they wear cross-wise around the waist] now the doors of the trucks were not yet opened and the warriors were gazing in awe at the station, the largest building they had ever seen. suddenly the cry was raised that their king was being stolen! they began throwing themselves out of the trucks, shouting battle-cries and brandishing their knob-kerries and assegais. there was a wild rush to catch up with the galloping carriage and more than a score of white railway employees and officials were killed in the mêlée. mad with fear that they were losing their king, the whole ten thousand of them raced down the streets, and pretoria thought it was being captured by the savages. soon, however, they caught up with the carriage, and shortly after fell into orderly array and marched on to oom paul's house. the old president had risen early, as he always did, and was sitting on the stoop of his simple, flat-roofed home, drinking coffee and smoking his pipe. the carriage drove up and the warriors fell into regimental formation as buno and tuys got out. as they started for the little gate the ten thousand men gave the royal salute, their feet coming down on the roadway with the sound of thunder, their shrill whistle echoing from the low eaves of the house. oom paul did not move from his low chair. pipe in mouth, he looked beyond tuys and buno, just as though they had been ordinary kaffirs. there was an embarrassing moment--that is, it was embarrassing to the visitors--and then the old man slowly took his pipe out of his mouth and spoke. i have never heard what he said, but according to accounts he made good his threat to talk to buno "like a dutch uncle". "he gave us the very devil," is the way tuys tells about it. "oom paul told us both that we were children, and bad children at that! he said that he was minded to soundly spank us both, and he was so fierce about it that i thought he was going to do it." the outcome of the interview was that king buno went home a chastened and contrite monarch and there were no more complaints from swaziland. this shows the extraordinary character of oom paul and explains why he was so highly regarded by all, boers and english alike. trekking with oom tuys was a thoroughly delightful adventure. he had planned the trip into swaziland so that at night we made camp at some boer farm, and everywhere he was received with open arms. each night there was a little jollification in which tuys was the center of interest. he always pushed me forward, and the simple boers made much of me, all of them knowing my father and having the highest regard for him. although we traveled fast there was little hardship. it was after the rains and the whole veldt was a bright green, with the little thorn trees in bloom. we found the vaal river fordable and the going was easy. whenever we were unable to reach a farm-house for meals, we fared well on our own biltong and rusks. the biltong, so much eaten in the transvaal, is dried beef which is usually cut into strips and chunks and eaten without cooking. rusks are the biscuits all boers make, and we ate well, having enough of both. shortly before reaching the swaziland border we were met by several fine looking swazi warriors. i immediately noted their superiority to the kaffirs i had known. they were about six feet tall, perfectly proportioned, and carried themselves with a swinging dignity quite unusual among the mapors and other natives. oom tuys introduced me to them and they met me as man to man, giving me the same salute they had accorded my uncle. they told tuys that their king was waiting for him and that he had planned a celebration in our honor. "you hear that, mzaan bakoor?" tuys asked. "we are going to be royal guests and you will see the real swaziland. watch me and do as i do in all things, and you shall have much to tell when we get back to rietvlei." as we came up the wide trail to the border of swaziland, i saw several hundred warriors at the top of the hill. as soon as we came close to them they began to wave their knob-kerries and shields. down the slope came the deep bass of their voices as they chanted a welcome, the sound being suddenly cut off short as they brought their feet down in the heavy stamp they use when dancing. they were our escort--all picked men of the household impi--and their leader was a noted warrior who was an old friend of tuys. after a short halt for this officer to deliver a brief address of welcome, tuys ordered our party to proceed. i noted that he treated the officer with scant courtesy, and he explained this by saying, "here i am a king; he is lucky if i even look at him!" a little later we dropped into the valley of heaven. this is really the most delightful valley in swaziland. it is well watered, and thousands of the natives have their kraals there. swaziland is a broken country, alternating between veldt of from two to five, and even six thousand feet, and there are small rivers everywhere, flowing from west to east. each of these rivers has cut out its own valley, but the valley of heaven is the most fertile and beautiful of all. trees, sometimes in clumps but more often singly, are found along the banks of the rivers and each kraal is practically surrounded by big and little ones. our progress down the valley of heaven was practically a parade. at each kraal or village, a village being a collection of kraals, we would be greeted by hundreds of warriors and children. the women would usually remain in the background, but were quite in evidence. young as i was, i could not help noting that they were the finest looking savages i had ever seen. these women have perfectly proportioned bodies and stand erect, with their heads thrown back. they are the women of a proud nation, and they show it. i particularly noticed their splendid shoulders, these and their erect carriage being due to carrying all burdens on their heads. at each village the local chief would offer us tswala, or kaffir beer, and we were lucky to be important enough to be able to refuse to drink. if we had taken all that was offered, we would have been drowned long before the end of the first day in the valley of heaven. the fact that our escort consisted of picked warriors from the royal troops and that oom tuys was known to be the intimate of their king made it permissible for us to refuse to associate with the little chiefs along the line of march. camp on the last night before reaching the royal kraal at zombode was pitched in the valley, and we saw the sun set over the plateau on which king buno made his headquarters. after supper that night oom tuys confided to me a great secret. "buno has asked me a thousand times to bring him a rifle," he said, "but always i have refused. as you know, the swazis, like other kaffirs, are not allowed to have guns. death is the punishment we deal out to those who sell rifles to these savages. now buno has his heart set on owning a rifle, and the last time i saw him i promised that i would get him one. "in the cart i have a mauser with about five thousand cartridges, and the outfit is for buno. you will want to come to swaziland many times in the future, so i am going to make buno your friend for life. i am going to allow you to present the mauser to him! "no one will know how he got it and you will be as big a man in swaziland as i am, once you have given the rifle to buno. now what do you think of your uncle tuys?" naturally, i was very grateful, since i had already begun to feel the lure of swaziland and dearly wanted to be a little king there myself. that night was memorable for several reasons. soon after dark sibijaan and i climbed up the trail a little way and looked up the valley. here and there we could see fires burning at the various kraals and quite often the wind brought us the pungent smell of wood-smoke. the sky was clear as it only is in south africa and the stars glittered with all the hard brilliance of diamonds. however, we did not remain long admiring the beauties of the valley of heaven. down below us we suddenly saw what seemed to be a dark cloud of men coming up the road. discreetly we hid in the brush along the trail and watched them go by. they were warriors in full costume, their faces hard and set in the dim light. there was only the sound of their feet on the road and their silence was unnerving. the swazi warrior chanting and dancing in the sunlight is awesome enough, but when he becomes a silent swift-moving shadow of the night, he is terrifying. particularly is this true when you are only a small boy and know that the shadow is fully armed and is deplorably careless with his weapons! sibijaan was shaking with terror, and as soon as the shadows passed on we started back to camp. neither of us spoke. we didn't need to. we knew that we wanted oom tuys and without a word started for him. a moment later we saw another band of warriors coming swiftly up the trail, so again we hid. as we dived into our little camp a third band passed. i was very glad to find oom tuys smoking by the fire, and for the first time in my life i realized that a fire is a friendly thing. tuys noted that we had been hurrying and asked the reason. i told him about the shadows on the trail. "it is well that you hid," he said. "it would have been better yet if you had not been so foolish as to wander about at night. don't you know that sudden death is always walking abroad at night in swaziland? have i not told you?" then he explained that practically all swazis travel at night, whenever possible, so as to avoid the heat. he said that those we had met were going to zombode, as the king had issued a call for his warriors to attend the celebration in our honor. that night i waked several times, cold with an unnamed fear, and was comforted by seeing the massive bulk of tuys sleeping nearby. his steady breathing seemed a guarantee of safety and i would drift back to sleep feeling that the shadows on the trail were far removed from me. chapter v sheba's breasts and the place of execution--zombode and the royal kraal of queen labotsibeni--common and royal ground--we reach king buno's kraal at lebombo--gin for the king--buno, the regal savage--i present a rifle to the king--lomwazi takes me to labotsibeni--the old queen is worried over tuys's activities--the shooting match with the king--tuys and i manage to miss a few human targets. next morning we waked to find several hundred more warriors surrounding our camp. a more important chief was in command, and when tuys had made a brief but leisurely toilet, he talked to him. again tuys was given kingly honors, which he accepted with marked condescension. this chief informed him that king buno was waiting for him and had sent greetings to "his white brother." many dramatic gestures accompanied this announcement, and i was quite impressed with the manner of the chief. he was a fine figure of a savage and had a great number of scars on his forehead, showing that he had killed many enemies. we broke camp shortly after and started on the short climb to the top of the plateau. with our escort we made a party of about five hundred, and i felt very proud to be riding with oom tuys at the head of so imposing a procession. when we reached the top, tuys reined in and pointed across the valley of heaven to where two rounded peaks rose about a thousand feet above the river. "you see those?" he asked. "those mountains are sheba's breasts and are known everywhere in swaziland. beyond them is the place of execution. if you look closely, you can see that sharp cliff to their left." the rounded peaks looked exactly like a woman's breasts and were very striking. there are many tales about them and they are supposed to be the home of spirits of all kinds. i could see the cliff tuys spoke of. it appeared to be a sheer drop of many feet. the plateau was much like the high veldt in our country. except for the tall grass and a few rocks raising their rugged tops here and there, it was absolutely barren. these rocks look like little black islands in a vast rolling sea of dull brown. back of this are the bare mountains, rugged and naked in their rocky barrenness. we came to a little stream, which appeared to head up in these hills; then suddenly a great collection of huts seemed to spring up out of the plain. hundreds of poles projected above them, and soon we saw a number of kraals. there were a few patches of trees, their green being the only relief from the dull brown of the scene. we seemed to come suddenly on the settlement because its huts and kraals were of the same color as the grass, which gave them a fine camouflage. this was zombode, formerly the royal kraal of king umbadine. "queen labotsibeni, his royal widow, lives there now," tuys told me. "all umbadine's other widows live there, too. i think there are about twenty of them. when we get close you will find that the big mountain behind is already throwing its shadow over the place. it will be cooler then." soon we came to the shadow and it was very pleasant to get out of the scorching sun. this mountain was a sort of natural fort and protected zombode from attacks from the west. east of zombode was a rolling grass-covered plain. close to the outlying kraal was a small stream. we did not cross this. "that marks the line between the common and royal ground," tuys explained. "we will follow it and push on to lebombo, buno's kraal. if we wished to call on labotsibeni, we would wait here until we received permission to cross this water. then we would camp on the royal ground and she would send for us." by this time i could see scores of swazis running out of their kraals to inspect us. a chief, accompanied by a score or so of warriors, came to meet us. we kept on, and he caught up to us by running. tuys paid no attention to him and advised me to do the same. one of our servants told him that "the white king" was going to visit his brother, king buno, and i looked back to see the chief and his men watching us as we went on. about three or four miles farther on, over the same barren brown country, we came to another stream. this is about midway between zombode and lebombo. lebombo came out of the ground exactly like zombode and was situated in exactly the same way at the foot of a high mountain, facing the east. it was simply another zombode. "that's where buno lives," said tuys. "the big kraal in the center is his, and all the little ones belong to his indunas. each of the indunas has a number of wives and is the leader of an impi of about a thousand men. king buno has twenty-six wives and i don't know how many children." as we went on i could see the people coming out to meet us, the small boys running swiftly and shouting as they ran. here also there was a little stream separating the common from the royal ground. by the time we reached this dividing line several indunas had come to meet us, and we forded the water and pitched camp on the royal ground. tuys went to the wagon and soon appeared with a quart of gin. this he gave to the most imposing of the chiefs, who seemed to be a sort of special representative of the king. "tell the great king that his white brother comes with presents and the tribute," he said. "tell him that our king, oom paul, sends greetings and prays that his health is good and that he will live forever!" "nkoos, it shall be done!" the induna answered, saluting with his shield and knob-kerrie. then he retired swiftly to the royal kraal. less than ten minutes later he came back and said, "the great king buno, ruler of swaziland and leader of countless warriors, bids you approach!" oom tuys stepped into our tent and called me inside. he gave me the rifle and handed sibijaan a heavy bag of cartridges. then he loaded a dozen of our escort with more cartridges and bottles of gin. thus loaded down, we set out to call on the most powerful and savage king in south africa. after passing the triple walls of the kraal we found king buno standing in front of the royal palace, or rather, hut. he shook hands warmly with tuys, who handed him the gold. i noted how easily buno handled it. he was a strong man. while he talked with oom tuys i had an opportunity to look him over. king buno was well over six feet and must have weighed at least two hundred and thirty or forty pounds. he was very deep chested and had a body like an ox. his legs were well shaped and very muscular. of course he was too fat, but this was explained by the fact that the swazis consider corpulence a sign of aristocracy and are proud to "carry weight." without doubt, buno was the most powerful savage i had ever seen. he was every inch a king, and he knew it. while i was admiring him he suddenly turned and looked at me. his eyes were the cruelest i have ever looked into, and it came over me with a rush that he must be quite as black as he was painted. i was only a boy, but i could feel the cruel brutality of this savage the minute he looked at me. tuys motioned me to come forward. "o king, this is mzaan bakoor, my nephew, who has come all the way from rietvlei to bring you the rifle you desire!" such was his introduction. buno shook hands with a grip like a vise and took the mauser from me. he seemed to gloat over the weapon for a moment, and then spoke: "the king thanks you, mzaan bakoor, little white chief," he said, and his voice was deep and melodious. "you are the near relation of my friend; you shall be the friend of the king. all my subjects shall be your slaves!" then he fondled the rifle a moment, throwing it to his shoulder and going through the motions of shooting. "it is a good rifle," he said, using the native term of "mroer," "and to-day we shall try it. already i know how to shoot, and this afternoon we shall have a shooting match. i shall show you how the king can shoot!" there was a little more conversation about the rifle and buno was much pleased at the quantity of cartridges we had brought. he was as delighted with the mauser as a child with a new toy. later that day i found myself regretting that the weapon was not a toy. at length buno said something to tuys that i did not hear. the latter turned to me and said, "i have some business to transact with the king. you go back to our camp and wait for me." i would have given much to know what this business was. tuys and buno had been in some queer deals together and i felt that they were planning another. both were reckless and lawless, and, backed by the thousands of buno's impis, they were able to do anything they had a mind to, at least in swaziland. tuys and buno dropped to their knees and crawled into the royal hut, and i returned to our camp. sibijaan was as curious as i was and made an attempt to pass in the rear of the king's hut with the intention of hearing something. he did not get far and came back with speed, for he had run into a six-foot swazi warrior with an evil eye who appeared to be on guard. boylike, i was hungry when we reached camp and was glad to see that we were to have fresh-killed beef for dinner. i was munching a rusk when sibijaan hopped into the tent, his eyes flashing with excitement. "o mzaan bakoor, there is an induna asking for you!" he said. "he says he comes from queen labotsibeni and must see you!" outside i found a young chief who looked very much like buno. he had the same great body and hard eyes and carried himself with the same "swank" affected by the king. "mzaan bakoor, little white induna," he said in the same rumbling melodious bass so common among the swazis, "i am lomwazi, brother of the king and son of queen labotsibeni. my mother would see you and has asked that i beg you to visit her. she waits for you!" realizing that it was not fitting that an o'neil should run at the command of a kaffir queen, i told lomwazi that i would go when "the shadow of that tree strikes the tent." i estimated this would be in about half an hour, and i was right. lomwazi, great induna that he was, squatted outside the tent until i was ready. he evidently expected that i might offer him gin or some present, but i decided it would be poor policy to do so, since i intended giving gin to labotsibeni. as soon as sibijaan told me that the time was up i went out and found lomwazi with an escort of half a dozen warriors waiting for me. sure that buno's friendship would protect us, i followed lomwazi without hesitation. as we went along i noticed the deference paid us and realized that lomwazi must be a power in the land. we found queen labotsibeni in a nearby kraal, which she used when visiting lebombo. it was a sort of guest kraal placed at her disposal by king buno. there were huts sufficient for all her retinue, among which were some of the other widows, whom she ruled with a heavy hand. labotsibeni was very stout and tall, even when sitting down, as she was when i first saw her. she had an intelligent face, with the same eyes, though not so cruel, as buno and lomwazi. her beautifully shaped hands were much in evidence, and i don't recall having ever seen cleaner or better manicured fingers. like the other women in swaziland, she was practically naked, except for a covering draped from the waist. her hair was piled high on the top of her head and was bound so that it looked like a melon. when she spoke i noted that her teeth were perfect. this, of course, is the rule in swaziland, since these people take care of their teeth from earliest childhood. they never finish eating without carefully rubbing their teeth with charcoal or some fine sand. if the swazis have no fixed religious observances, they certainly are religious in the care of their teeth. labotsibeni had not lost her sight this first time i saw her, and she looked me over for a full minute before speaking. then she motioned to me to be seated and addressed me: "nkoos, little white induna," she said, "you come to pungwane (the native name for swaziland) as the friend of our great white leader. oom tuys is the trusted friend of my son, the king, and you shall be trusted likewise. our friend always brings presents; thus do we know that his heart is true to us!" i accepted the hint and produced the quart bottle of gin i had brought for her. she grasped it greedily, and the interview was interrupted until she had gulped down what i estimated to be nearly a pint. her capacity for gin was extraordinary, i learned later, although all the swazis will drink alcoholic liquors without restraint. they have absolutely no sense with gin or whiskey, and only stop guzzling when the supply runs out or they are completely paralyzed. after taking her drink, labotsibeni wiped her lips on a leaf--one of a pile she had at her side--and then spoke: "oom tuys comes to pay the tribute," she observed, "but my son and he have other plans they will carry out. you are close to the great white man. what are these plans?" i then realized what she was after. of course i knew nothing about what new deviltry buno and tuys were hatching, but i realized that it would not do for me to appear to be on the outside. i would lose prestige. "oom tuys and the king plan great things for the people of swaziland," i solemnly assured her. "it is not for me to say what they will do. when we have left swaziland the king will tell you everything. until then i must remain silent." this cryptic statement did not seem to satisfy the old queen and she several times reverted to her question in our subsequent conversation. lomwazi was also present at the interview, but only spoke to agree with his mother. behind her in the shadow of the hut sat several of her maids. they watched their mistress keenly and hastened to assist her when she rose as a signal that the interview was over. the impression labotsibeni gave me was that she was very cunning and intelligent. i could readily understand the common belief that she was the "brains behind the throne" in swaziland. tuys was waiting for me at our camp and was much interested to learn that i had been to see the queen mother. he was amused to hear that she was anxious to know what business he and buno were planning. "so she is worried, eh?" he observed. "well, that's good for her! she has kept buno tied to her apron-strings too long, and i suspect she is playing into the hands of the britishers. we must keep buno as a friend of our people. if we don't, we shall find the english behind the swazis in the next war." after dinner, during which tuys told me more stories about buno and his cruelty, we attended the shooting match. i don't suppose there was ever another like it. it was a most terrible exhibition of savage beastiality and ought to have been called the "murder match," instead of a shooting contest. when we arrived at buno's kraal we found him walking excitedly up and down, the rifle in his hands. standing near him were a score or more of his indunas, and we were struck at once by their look of apprehension. lined up on either side of the wide roadway leading to the royal kraal were thousands of warriors. more than a dozen impis were in line, every man in his full war costume. their knob-kerries were held at the ready, their shields across their bodies, and each had shifted his assegai to the position used in battle. the lines of savage warriors stretched away from the kraal for hundreds of yards. it was the first time i had ever seen the impis of the king on parade and it was a most impressive sight. there was a slight breeze and the white plumes on their heads danced in the sunlight. what struck me most was the splendid build and stature of these men. they were all six feet or more and their black skins fairly shone. most of them wore leopard-skins caught about the waist and on one shoulder. my rapid inspection was broken by the king. he greeted us vociferously, and i immediately saw that he was on fire with the gin he had drunk. no sooner did he raise his hand in salutation than the impis gave the royal salute. their deep shout ended with the crash of twenty thousand feet brought down together. the earth fairly shook. i realize now that this salute was a tribute to the cruelty of the ages. in just such a manner did the gladiators salute nero with their "morituri te salutamus!" a few moments after the salute i realized that these men were also about to die. "come on, oom tuys, come and let the king see how well you can shoot!" buno shouted. "i have provided the only targets worthy of your skill--you who are noted for your shooting among a race of white men who have conquered all with their rifles! i will shoot first, and then you shall beat me!" then he turned suddenly to me. "and you, too, mzaan bakoor, little induna! you, too, shall shoot against the king! first i will shoot, then oom tuys, and then you. each will shoot this many shots," and he held out four clips of five cartridges each. [illustration: princesses and their maid taking a morning bath] [illustration: young princesses amiably engaged in hair-dressing these are of exceptionally high birth and of remarkable beauty. either would probably be worth fifty head of cattle and could only be bought for that number. women are the standard of currency among the swazis, the average low-caste woman, if young and sound in limb, being worth five head of cattle. the price of women increases according to their birth and beauty] [illustration: swazi girls this picture shows the large navel which is common to most women, particularly to those of aristocratic birth] [illustration: pudana, favorite to the old queen labotsibeni he is a charming little fellow and the most privileged personality in all swaziland, being the only male allowed to attend all interviews and conferences] the indunas gathered about and i could see the horror in their faces. they knew what was coming, but even then i did not suspect. tuys looked startled and gazed at buno as though he could not understand. down the lines the plumed heads still nodded and after a moment there was silence. the savage king slipped a clip into his mauser, the metallic click intensified by the silence. he raised the rifle, sighting down first one line of warriors and then the other. the next instant a shot rang out and a plumed swazi pitched forward and lay writhing in the sunlight. as buno threw another cartridge into place, two warriors stepped out and stabbed the fallen warrior. four more shots rang out, and at each a plumed head came down, with shield and assegai crashing as they struck the ground. each warrior was stabbed as he lay, the killers quietly stepping back into the ranks. it was the most ghastly spectacle i had ever attended. we boers have always had to fight for our lives and farms, so that sudden death was no novelty to me. but such a slaughter as this! buno completed his twenty shots and made three misses. these angered him and he shouted out the equivalent of "i'll get you next time!" then came tuys's turn. he had been thinking rapidly and i had a faint hope that he would find some way out. "o king, it is not fitting that your warriors should die by my rifle," he said hurriedly. "you are king and their lives are yours; i am but your guest and it is not right that brave men should be killed by one who loves only peace. let us shoot at other targets. let us kill cattle so that there may be a feast to-night." buno's face darkened. his bloodshot eyes flashed and for a second i thought he would strike tuys. "the king commands! buno, king of the swazis, commands!" he shouted in a hoarse voice. "shoot! shoot and kill more than i did, if you can!" i was holding tuys's rifle and he came over to where i was standing. i was so sick with it all that i hardly heard him when he spoke to me hurriedly in dutch. "we must go through with it," he whispered. "kill as few as you can. shoot them in the head and they'll die quickly!" a second later tuys raised his rifle. each shot that hit meant death; there was no need of stabbing when he shot. buno taunted him at each shot, and in spite of being the best shot in the transvaal tuys was able to miss as many as possible without arousing the suspicions of the bloody king. when he had finished my turn came. i could hardly hold the heavy rifle. buno fairly abused me, for he was raging by this time. one taunt i well remember. "o mzaan bakoor, you of the great ears!" he shouted, his voice now a hoarse growl. "show the king that you can shoot as well as you hear. oom tuys cannot shoot. you beat him!" so unsteady was i that i could not have held the rifle firmly if i had wanted to. i shot, and never were twenty shot so many. my score was much worse than tuys's, but the memory of that murder match will never die! buno was jubilant over his victory. he seemed to think that he had shamed the white men before his people and his indunas also gloried in his victory. i think they were rather glad that they had not been asked to serve as targets. i thought we were done with killing for the time being and wanted to return to camp and rest. i was suffering from shock and felt that i must lie down. but this was not the end. buno was not yet satisfied. he challenged tuys to shoot at running targets! tuys tried to talk him out of the idea and suggested that they had better go and get some gin. but buno would not be put off. he led the way to a point a short distance from the kraal, where there were clumps of bushes and long grass. warriors were made to dodge in and out of these bushes while their king potted them. this required much better shooting, and the men turned and twisted in and out of the brush like mad things. buno found that he could not kill enough to satisfy his brutish desire and soon tired of the "sport." tuys, however, had to take his turn, and he was able to miss even more frequently than before. sick as i felt, i was rather amused at tuys missing these poor savages. i have often seen him stop an antelope in full flight, and we have a saying that "only a bullet travels faster than a springbok." chapter vi tuys orders me to remain in camp during the celebration--i visit the royal kraal--feasting, dancing, and combats to the death--butchery of young women--buno and tuys wrestle for gold--how tuys became rich--a "legal execution" in swaziland--the unfaithful wife expiates her sin--how tuys shoots--father gathers information by mental suggestion. i finally returned to our camp much upset by the orgy of slaughter and sorry that i had forced tuys to take me with him on this trip. he remained with buno until time for supper and then came into camp to eat. i noticed that, although he was ordinarily a big eater, tuys had little appetite that night. however, he drank quite heavily and left soon after dusk with a number of bottles of gin. as he went he advised me to remain in camp. "you are not used to this country, lad," he said, roughly but kindly. "to-night there will be a big celebration and much drunkenness. when the king is drinking he is likely to be careless and things may happen that you would not like to remember. you stay in camp and i'll be back before long." i promised tuys to do as he asked, in spite of the fact that i was very curious to see what might take place. as night came on hundreds of fires were lighted and i could hear the swazis beginning to sing. every now and then shouts reached us, and there seemed to be every indication that it would be a wild night. curiosity impelled me to send sibijaan out on a scouting expedition. he was also eaten up with curiosity, but wanted me to come along. however, i still remembered my promise to tuys and would not go. after a little sibijaan returned, his eyes wide with excitement. "thousands and thousands of warriors are at the royal kraal," he announced. "there are great fires everywhere and every one is drinking tswala. the warriors are dancing and the king's fire is the biggest of all. the witch-doctors are there, too, and are going to make magic to-night!" i was intensely interested in all this. it seemed a shame that i was going to miss it. on second thoughts i decided that i was foolish to have made the long trek into zombode if i did not see the whole celebration. i wanted to be able to tell those at home all about it, so i decided to sneak out of camp and watch a while. playing at war had taught me to hide as much as possible, and soon i slipped out of the tent and started for the royal kraal. there seemed to be thousands of natives all about me, each band gathered around a fire. they were dancing and singing and eating, particularly eating. the swazi always eats whenever possible, and a number of cattle had been slaughtered to provide a feast in honor of oom tuys. i crept closer to the royal kraal and soon could see the glow from the king's fire. it was surrounded by hundreds of huts and many kraals, but i managed to get close enough to see the flames. a dense mass of warriors were on three sides of the fire, and on the other i could discern buno and tuys. all the warriors were dancing and chanting, and it was an awe-inspiring sight. in a little while the dancing stopped and two warriors sprang before the king and began to fight. i was close enough to see their actions and hear the blows when knob-kerrie struck shield with a hollow thump. the fight was short. one suddenly fell, struck down with a cunning blow from his opponent's knob-kerrie, and a second later i saw the winner stab the prostrate figure again and again with his assegai. a moment later another pair fought, and this battle ended as did the other with the death of the loser. there were several more fights, each ending fatally. at each victory wild shouts would go up from the bloodthirsty audience. for a small boy it was a thrilling show. after the last combat there was a pause. soon the murmuring of the expectant thousands died down and i felt that they were waiting for more excitement. a moment later a number of girls, all naked, were led out from behind the royal hut. they were lined up in front of buno and tuys, and i could see the witch-doctor talking to the king. this lasted a few minutes and then the former began to dance, doing what might be called the "dance of death." suddenly he halted, then dived at one of the girls and threw her roughly to her knees. the others fell back hurriedly and several warriors caught hold of the girl and stretched her on the ground. another man joined the group and the girl began to shriek, her voice seeming to echo from hut to hut. it was a shriek of utter despair, and i could feel myself tremble. the man stood high above the girl and raised his right hand above his head. i could see the flash of steel, for he held a great curved knife. a moment he stood thus, the girl shrieking all the while. the crowd seemed to catch its breath and i felt as though i should choke. down flashed the knife, and the victim shrieked louder and more shrilly than ever. it was enough! i turned and fled blindly. i don't know how i got there, but i blundered into camp shaking like a leaf and threw myself on my blankets. next morning tuys told me, quite casually, that buno had entertained him by having some girls cut open while they still lived. i then knew that i had not been dreaming. despite tuys's advice, i had seen something i "would not like to remember." tuys told me of other things that happened at the celebration, and i am thankful i did not see them. they cannot be told, but for utter cruelty, cruelty of the most depraved and bestial kind, they are without equal. that day only the women were about until nearly noon. the king and his warriors were sleeping off the debauch of the night before. shortly after midday tuys took me with him to the royal kraal, where we found buno showing little evil effects of the orgy. i noticed that tuys wore his great leather hunting-coat with wide pockets, and i was surprised at this because it was a warm day. however, i soon learned the reason. [illustration: an actual combat in which the man on the left was slain in war the swazis fight after a method all their own. the opposing impis, or regiments, draw up on either side of the battlefield and after much dancing, yelling of battle-cries, and other excitement, individual warriors dash into the middle-ground challenging individual opponents from the other side. these meet and fight it out to the death. the combats are divided into three phases. the first consists of fighting with the long knob-kerrie; the second, with the short knob-kerrie; and the final, which is the death blow, with the short spear] [illustration: a type of dress worn by the royal executioner] [illustration: lomwazi, son and prime minister to the old queen he acted as regent to the swazi nation] buno was very agreeable and even joked with me about my poor shooting of the day before. he little knew how proud i was that i had shot badly. tuys and he were on the best of terms and joked with one another, each boasting of his strength. finally buno ended the pleasantries with a challenge. "let us go to the rock, oom tuys," he said, "and we'll soon see who is the strongest man in swaziland. this time i know i can throw you, and you will make small profit out of this trip." "that remains to be seen, o king," tuys warned him. "i feel stronger than ever to-day, but it seems to me that you are quite shaky. don't you think you'd better wait a day or two before tackling me?" "no, no! now is the time!" declared buno most emphatically. "if you cannot wrestle any better than you shot yesterday, i shall have little trouble in throwing you." this was all very interesting to me. i felt that i would like to be big enough to wrestle buno and break his neck. however, he and tuys seemed to be very joyful over the coming match and there was no ill feeling between them. after tuys and buno had had several drinks, we all started out for the rock. i had heard of this rock before. it was a great flat-topped slab on which buno was accustomed to sleep during the hottest hours of the day. the swazis call it "the king's couch," and buno would bask on it while the sun blazed down on his naked body with all the fire of mid-summer. tuys had several of his servants with him, each one carrying a small but very heavy canvas sack. i asked him what these were, but he told me to wait and i would see. the rock was about a quarter of a mile from the royal kraal, and we soon reached it. then came the unexpected, which invariably happened where tuys was concerned. we climbed upon the rock and while buno and the rest of us looked on, oom tuys slit the canvas sacks and poured two thousand sovereigns on the rock! the gold made quite a large pile and shone brightly in the warm sun. tuys counted it, with buno seeming to keep careful check on him. finally the count was finished and they agreed that it was all there--two thousand glittering gold pieces! "now we shall wrestle for it," said buno, pointing to the gold. "we'll soon see who is the better man, who is the strongest man in swaziland. come on, oom tuys!" tuys waved to me to get off the rock, and we jumped down to the ground. it was, perhaps, the strangest sight i had yet seen. there stood those two great men, waiting for an opportunity to get a favorable grip. presently they began to circle round and round, each trying to catch hold of the other. the pile of gold lay between them. suddenly buno rushed at tuys. tuys stepped to one side and jostled him as he went by. without changing position, tuys reached down and grabbed up two handfuls of gold. he was shoving it into the pockets of his leather coat when buno was upon him. buno forced him back and grabbed up some of the gold, which he shoved into his loin-cloth. they were very strong men and the wrestling was the roughest imaginable. each time one gained an advantage he would grab for the gold. i soon saw that tuys was getting the better of it. his pockets were sagging with gold, while buno, being practically naked, had no place to store what he was able to seize. the contest finally ended with both flat on the rock, locked in each other's arms. they tussled for a time and, as neither could gain the advantage, decided to quit. both were exhausted and hardly able to get to their feet. however, they were the best of friends, although tuys had most of the gold. then i understood the saying among the boers that tuys would soon be a rich man if oom paul continued to send him with the monthly payments to king buno. there was only a small celebration that night, although tuys spent the evening with the king and much gin was drunk. tuys returned early to camp and told me that we would visit the place of execution the next day and then return to rietvlei. i went to sleep full of anticipation. we broke camp early next morning. i had expected that we would accompany buno to the cliff beyond sheba's breasts, but tuys told me that the king and his impi had left during the night. all swazis walk whenever they travel, keeping up a steady pace that covers much ground. when we started for the place of execution, buno and his warriors were at least fifteen or twenty miles ahead of us. tuys gave orders that our party should camp in the valley of heaven while he and i pushed on and caught up with the king. it was nearly noon before we saw them climbing the slopes of sheba's breasts. there seemed to be several thousand in the king's party. in a little while, by hard riding, we caught up with them. there were two full impis, in their midst a number of naked savages without arms or headdresses. i asked tuys about these men. "they are prisoners," he informed me. "we are going to see them die. that is why we are climbing these infernal hills. beyond sheba's breasts we have another mountain to climb and then we shall reach the place of execution. let's hurry and catch buno!" we found the king at the head of his impis, accompanied by several of the indunas, striding along over ground that gave even our horses trouble. he greeted tuys affectionately as usual and had a pleasant word for me. tuys asked him why the prisoners were going to be executed. "they have had their trial," he said, "and they are all guilty. they must die! i have said it!" that seemed to settle the matter, and i asked tuys about the trial and how it had taken place. from his long and intimate acquaintance with swaziland and its customs he was able to tell me all i needed to know. "every moon there is a court at zombode," he informed me. "the indunas are the jury and decide whether the prisoner is guilty or not. prisoners are brought before them charged with stealing, non-payment of debts, disloyalty to the king, and countless other things, including witchcraft. when the indunas have heard a case they bring in a verdict of guilty or innocent, and then the king passes sentence. my friend, buno, always decides that death is the proper punishment, and allows the person bringing the charge to take the possessions of the prisoner after he has had first pick. many of those who will be executed to-day would only receive a whipping if they were in our country, instead of swaziland. but buno has no sympathy with law-breakers and i think he rather enjoys the executions." after passing sheba's breasts we went down a steep trail to a little valley, and then climbed the sharp ascent to the place of execution. from the breasts to the top of the cliff is almost a two-hour trek. on the top is a small plateau. from this to the bottom is a sheer drop of more than five hundred feet. at the bottom is a short slope of broken rock. the impis were drawn up in column facing the edge, with buno and his indunas in front. we had left our horses at the top of the trail and now joined the king's party. after pacing up and down for a few moments buno turned and addressed his warriors. he told them that the prisoners had forfeited their lives on account of their wickedness and it was only just that they should die. he ended in this fashion: "but the king is merciful. these jackals ought to be killed by torture. instead, i, buno the king, have decreed that they shall die after the time-honored custom of our people!" while he spoke i watched the prisoners. there were about forty of them, and every one held his head high, as though not afraid to die. each bore himself proudly, more like a victor than one about to die a fearful death. when buno had finished there was a slight stir among them and one was left standing alone. with his eyes straight in front of him, his body erect, he walked swiftly forward. in a second he had reached the edge. throwing up his arms, he leaped forward and was gone! one after another the others followed. there was no hesitation, no drawing back. it was terrible, yet glorious! these savages, with no promise of a here-after which included a valhalla or heaven, went to their death like heroes. when the last one had gone the silent tension was broken by the rustling of shields and shuffling of feet. the king then felt impelled to make another address. he had got as far as, "thus do i, the king, destroy the enemies of my people--" when there came a violent commotion and a woman's cry. through the warriors dashed a young and handsome woman. she wore nothing, and in that brief moment i could see from the lines in her face that she had suffered much. tuys and the king leaped forward to intercept her, but were too late. she threw up her hands with a shriek and went over the edge! tuys and i were much excited by this, but buno and his indunas seemed to be rather annoyed. buno explained that women had done this before and seemed to regard their action as a desecration of the place of execution. after many questions tuys found out all about it and explained to me. "this was new to me," he said, as we climbed down from the cliff, "and i thought i knew all there was to know about the swazis. but i never before heard about women throwing themselves off the place of execution. "mzaan bakoor, this is how it is. you know the swazis are very strict with their women. if a wife, no matter if she be one of thirty or forty wives, has anything to do with any man but her husband, her life is forfeited. also the child, if there be one, must die. if there is no child, she dies alone. it is the husband's right to kill the unfaithful wife. if he does so, no one has anything to say and he is not held for murder. but he can do worse than kill his wife. he can refuse to kill her, and then she becomes an outcast and the prey of any one. she may even be killed by her people, for there have been cases where swazi women have killed an unfaithful wife when the husband refused to slay her. "always, if she can escape, the woman will take to the hills. there her condition is as bad as it can be. she has to live on berries and what game she can catch, and her life is miserable. she is an outcast, and men who are caught going to her in the hills share her degradation. "this woman who died to-day was the youngest wife of a little chief who refused to kill her when he found that she was faithless. she escaped to the hills some weeks ago and lived the life of a hunted beast. finally she must have made up her mind to end it all. it is fortunate for her that she had not been taught by the missionaries that she had a soul!" that is the moral code of swaziland. in all the years i have known the swazis i have never heard of its being broken without the death penalty. however, civilization will some day reach into swaziland and then this code will disappear. that will be the end of the swazis. we reached camp to find the long shadows of the setting sun dropping across the valley of heaven. buno bade tuys an affectionate farewell and the impis gave us the royal salute as they started up the hill for lebombo. this was the first time i saw king buno, and he left me memories that nothing can ever efface. i saw him again next year and was in lebombo when he died and queen labotsibeni was appointed regent. nothing much happened on our return journey to the valley of reeds, except that oom tuys showed me how he could shoot. during the second day's trek we ran up on the high veldt for a space and jumped some springbok. they sprang up suddenly out of the brown grass, as they always do, and went off like a streak of light. after one or two had escaped, tuys told me to kill the next. "let's see if you can shoot like a boer," he said, bantering me. "let's see if you would starve to death if you were lost on the veldt!" a few moments later i had my chance. my mauser rested across my saddle when the antelope jumped, and a second later i blazed away. i made three perfectly clean misses. looking back, i realize that the heavy military rifle was too much for me--it was too weighty. tuys said: "poor mzaan bakoor, you will die hungry. now watch me get the next!" and he did. his rifle was in its sheath, barrel under his leg and stock alongside the pommel of the saddle. i never saw quicker action. the unlucky springbok seemed to rise with the motion of tuys's arm as he snapped his mauser out of its case to his shoulder, all in one motion. on its fourth or fifth jump the antelope met the dum-dum bullet and dropped. its back was broken and the knife did the rest. "that is the way a boer shoots!" tuys boasted. "if you miss your meat, you go hungry. your rifle must follow the springbok when he jumps, and you get him at the top of his leap. he cannot change direction in the air and you pull your trigger softly so that your aim is not broken. if you jerk, as you did a minute ago, you miss. remember that, lad!" as we rode into rietvlei on the last day tuys gave me a serious talking to. he was worried over what i had seen at lebombo. "you know that we have seen some things at buno's kraal that must not be told," he cautioned me. "the british, and even our own people, would be much excited if they heard that you had given a rifle to buno. they would hold you and me accountable for the men he killed in the shooting match. also, they would ask many questions about the women who were killed that night i made you stay in camp. they would think that the gin we gave buno made him do these things, and we would have much trouble. "you must not know anything about these things. when you tell about your trip, you must only tell things that will not make trouble. if you don't, i will never take you with me again. what's more, i'll tell buno, and he will kill you if you ever go to swaziland again! "slim gert will ask you questions, and your mother, too. if any of your brothers are at home, they will want to know about your trip. now remember, you must only tell the things that are safe to tell." he also advised me to threaten sibijaan with everything under the sun if he talked too much. his own servants he was not afraid of--they had been with him before and knew what would happen to them if they talked. i told sibijaan what to expect if he talked, and he promised to tell nothing. he kept his promise about as well as might have been expected of a kaffir. mother and father were at home when we reached rietvlei, and were very glad to see me back. i was glad to again look out on the peaceful green fields of our wonderful farm, but keenly disappointed that i dared not give a true account of our adventures. it was some story for a small boy to have to bottle up! after supper my father sent for me, and i went to his office in the wing of the house which he used for administrative work. i had my doubts about the interview that i knew was about to take place, because my father has a way of getting the truth when he wants it. he is not known as "slim gert" for nothing. on the top of his desk lay a sjambok, or rawhide whip. it caught my eye and he saw me look at it. "now, son, tell me about your trip," he said. "what did you see? what happened? yesterday a swazi came here and said that buno had made a celebration for tuys and you." as he asked the question his keen eyes searched my soul. i was in an awful pickle. if i told the truth, tuys would be my enemy for life. if i lied to my father, he would never forgive me and i'd hate myself forever! the cruel whip did not enter into my calculations, because my father never struck us. it could not concern me. i hesitated for a moment only and then sacrificed my further chances of going with oom tuys to swaziland. i told the truth. father listened and seemed to be checking up what i said. he asked one or two questions which refreshed my memory, and i told him everything. "thank you for so accurate an account, son," he said, when i had finished. "i wanted to be sure that what i had heard was so. sibijaan was here a little while ago and--" he picked up the whip and tossed it into a drawer. next day i saw sibijaan. i asked him why he had told father about the killings at lebombo. "ou baas holds the sjambok in his hand when he talks to me," he said quite simply. "he knew lots about lebombo already. i'd sooner be killed by oom tuys some day than by your father now. i could not lie to ou baas." neither could i, but nevertheless i upbraided sibijaan for breaking the promise he had made to me that he would not tell about our trip. in fact, i consoled myself for losing my further chances of visiting swaziland with oom tuys by giving sibijaan a good beating. he could fight, but was not as strong as i, and the thrashing made no difference in our friendship. of course the fight took place in private; it would never have done to let our impi know that we had fallen out for even a moment. later i found out that father had received some pointed enquiries from the government in regard to oom tuys's activities in swaziland. he wanted to know first hand, if possible, what the "white king of swaziland" really did when he made his periodical trips to buno's kraal. the information, however, was only for his own benefit, since he would not betray one of our people. a month later oom tuys stopped at rietvlei as usual before making his regular trip to lebombo. that night i was with father when he sat talking with him. i feared that father would ask questions about our trip, but he approached the subject in quite another way. "i have heard from various kaffirs that your last trip to swaziland was a bad business," he said to tuys. "the government also has asked me about it. of course i know nothing, since you have told me nothing," and he eyed tuys keenly. "they say it was a bad business?" tuys remarked in a blustering way. "well, they don't know what they're talking about! buno was only happy to receive the tribute and he may have taken a little too much gin. that's about all there was to it. who the devil are those busybodies who don't mind their own business?" then he looked at me, but i met him eye to eye. i had expected the encounter and was ready for him. father, however, realizing the situation, began talking again. "kaffirs will lie," he said, "and there have been a number of swazis here during the last month. of course i don't believe them, but some of the officials who have to create work to hold their jobs have been asking questions." "tell them to go to swaziland and find out," said tuys, laughing heartily. "they daren't go. if they did, they'd never come back. buno would answer them, and they wouldn't worry about making any long-winded reports when he had done with them!" tuys knew that he was the only white man who dared enter swaziland then. he also knew that the stories told by kaffirs did not carry much weight and would never be accepted for action by the government. "it would be well, tuys," father said at the end of the talk, "if you would induce buno not to make so much noise when he gives his next party in your honor. his hospitality is too bloody to be healthy for either you or him." tuys did not question me about the matter when he saw me alone next morning. he evidently refused to entertain the thought that i might have betrayed him. if i had not met his eye the night before, however, he would have been sure i was guilty. he did not comment on the matter, and i know now that, in his daredevil way, he did not lose any sleep over it. in those days, too, it must be remembered that it did not cause much stir when a native chief killed a few of his followers. it was much more serious if he killed the men of another chief, since this might mean war and wars were always disturbing. tuys had nothing to say on his return from swaziland, but it must have been a successful trip for i saw him hand my father a heavy canvas sack to put in his safe until morning. he must have done well in the royal wrestling match. chapter vii i visit swaziland again--buno's illness--an appeal from the king--the race against death--umzulek meets us--the dying king--buno makes tuys guardian of his people--the last royal salute of the impis--the death-dealing puff-adder--buno dies like a true savage king--tzaneen, the royal widow, suspects murder--the queens meet--tuys escapes the funeral sacrifice. it was about a year later that i made my second trip into swaziland. father was away in pretoria on business when tuys arrived at rietvlei. very recently we had heard a rumor that buno was ill, and i was very keen to go with tuys on this trip. i felt sure that my father would not allow me to, but i knew that my mother could be persuaded to let me go. i therefore asked tuys to take me. "i am almost a man now, oom tuys," i said, standing as erect as i could, "and i want to go with you on your visit to lebombo. they say that buno is sick, but that ought not to make any difference, ought it?" "yes, owen, it makes all the difference in the world," he answered. "you know what the custom is; if buno dies, his ten nearest friends will be sacrificed. i am regarded as his friend and they will want me to die. much as i would appreciate the honor, i don't want to die just yet. if they killed me, they would kill you, too. do you want to die?" i frankly confessed that i did not. this explanation of the situation placed a very different light on it and i was curious to know what tuys intended to do. he told me he would wait a day or two before making up his mind, and i had hopes that some way would be found out of the difficulty. now buno knew that oom tuys would be at rietvlei about this time. he nearly always was, as he seldom started his trip from any other place. just at sunset, two days later, one of our mapors ran in and reported that a small impi of swazis was coming down the valley. "i'll wager that is a message from buno," tuys said, and we went indoors to await their arrival. it would not have done for us to be caught waiting for them. in a little while, when dusk was falling over the valley, we heard many feet come to a stop on the smooth roadway. sibijaan ran in to say that the impi had arrived, and while he spoke we heard the cries and the thud of feet that marked the royal salute. tuys sent one of his bodyguard out to see what was wanted. "it is a great induna from king buno," the man reported a moment later. "he says he comes bearing a royal message to his white brother." "tell him that 'the white king' of his country will see him in a little while," tuys ordered. it was almost dark before tuys decided the "great induna" had waited long enough to humble his pride. then he went out; and, of course, i followed him. no sooner was he framed in the light of the doorway than the royal salute was repeated. he walked slowly to the gate. there was the chief patiently waiting for him, his men drawn up behind him, like so many shapes of darkness barely visible in the night. "nkoos, white king of swaziland," the induna began, "i am the messenger of king buno. he sends a message to you." then he stopped, awaiting permission to go on. "speak!" ordered tuys. "buno, our king, is sick unto death," the chief said, with dramatic gestures, "he desires that his white brother come to him. by me he sends word that your life is safe and that he must see you before he dies!" tuys knew that buno's word was the word of a king and could be relied upon. he waited only a moment, therefore, and then said tersely: "i will come. to-morrow's sun will see us on our way." with that he made the gesture of dismissal. the impi again gave the royal salute and a second later had departed, swallowed up by the night. "get ready, lad," tuys directed as soon as we entered the house. "at sunrise to-morrow we start. we travel fast and light, for i must reach lebombo before buno dies!" i was overjoyed, but immediately my joy was tempered by the thought that my mother would have to know and might object. tuys, however, settled that question for me. he went to her and told her that he would be responsible for my return safe and sound. tuys always had a way with him, and my mother sent for me to tell me that i had her permission to go. "however, you must obey oom tuys better this time," she warned me. "i know that you were disobedient on the trip last year and ran the risk of being killed. you may go only if you promise me that you will obey tuys." naturally, i promised. i would have done more than that if it had been necessary, for i was wild to accompany tuys this time. with buno possibly dying there would be wonderful things to see, i felt sure. i was not disappointed, as it turned out. at dawn the next morning we were on our way. we had about the same equipment as before, except that i rode a bigger and faster horse and four speedy mules were harnessed to our light wagon, instead of six. sibijaan drove the mules and swung his sjambok without mercy. for once he was not called down for beating the mules. as tuys predicted, we traveled fast. the induna and his impi had left rietvlei during the night and started back toward lebombo. we caught up with them during the afternoon. they were hitting a smart pace, with the induna in the lead. his plumes appeared to mark the cadence of their steps and they must have been making better than six miles an hour. "is the way prepared for us?" tuys asked the chief. "does the king expect me? are his men waiting for me?" "nkoos, the king waits!" the induna replied most impressively. "he bade me to tell you to hurry. the king dies, and must see you before he goes to the caves." this seemed to satisfy oom tuys, so that he sent home the spurs and we all broke into a new burst of speed. the road was rough, and i would look back now and then to see sibijaan swaying to and fro as he jerked up the mules and cut them with his sjambok. tuys's boys, or servants, with the exception of his bodyguard, ran beside the wagon, holding to it to help them over the ground. tuys seemed possessed with the idea that buno was really dying, and our trip became a race with death. it was very exciting. down through the valley of heaven we ran, past kraals from which the swazis tumbled out to gaze in wonder at us. several indunas, knowing that tuys was due on his monthly trip, tried to halt us to offer tswala or food, but tuys would throw them a word and press on. this was on our second day's trek. on the first night we had stopped shortly before midnight, and then only to give our horses and mules some much needed rest. by the end of the second day both animals and men were pretty well exhausted, so we camped a little earlier. we were up at dawn, and tuys estimated that we would reach lebombo by noon. during that last night's camp a small band of witch-doctors stopped to talk to tuys. it seemed that they had received word that buno was dying and were going to lebombo to be in at his death, so to speak. "vultures! carrion-eaters! that's what they are," tuys remarked to me with disgust. "they are going to lebombo so that they will be there to bury the king, if he dies. i wish buno would fool them!" as before, we passed queen labotsibeni's kraal at zombode. this time there were only women and children there. all the indunas and warriors had gone on to lebombo. tuys asked a curious woman how this was. "yesterday, o nkoos, the command came from the king that all warriors should go to lebombo," she explained. "none but messengers remain, and these are now going on to tell that you are near." while she spoke we saw a small band of warriors swiftly running up the trail ahead. in a moment they had passed the turn of the road and were gone. in the brief glimpse i had of them i saw that they wore the broad white band that denotes a "king's messenger" in swaziland. we pushed on. tired as our animals were, we made good time, though not good enough to catch up with the messengers. as our party came round the bend into sight of lebombo, we found three indunas and more than a thousand warriors of the king's own impis waiting for us. they were lined up on either side of the road and gave us the royal salute as we passed between them. we did not halt, and these splendid warriors formed behind us and trotted along as our escort. it was a wonderful sight. their nodding plumes and bizarre shields, with here and there the flash of sunlight from an assegai, made a stirring picture. while yet some distance away i could see that there was an army gathered about the royal kraal. there seemed to be tens of thousands of warriors, all more or less in formation. when we came closer, a number of indunas ran forward to meet us and umzulek, a brother of buno, led us to the king. on each side of the roadway where the infamous shooting match had taken place the year before were solid lines of warriors, three and even four deep. as we passed up the line, impi after impi gave the royal salute. except for the exclamations of the warriors and the stamp of their feet, there was a strange silence. there seemed to be an air of foreboding, as though all were waiting for something they dreaded. we dismounted at the king's hut. tuys motioned me to come with him, and we stooped and went in. for a moment we could see nothing in the dim light. my first impression was that the hut was filled with people and was stifling hot. then i saw the king stretched out on some mats, with his head propped up on a small block of wood. he was very changed. his great body was gaunt, his face haggard, and his eyes shone with the fire of fever. buno gazed fixedly at tuys for a moment and then weakly raised his hands in salute. "welcome, nkoos, white brother of the king," he said in a thin old voice. "welcome, white king of my people! i knew you would come. you are a true friend!" even in the dim light i could see that tuys was moved. he fumbled his great beard and finally began to speak. "come closer, nkoos," came the royal command. "send my indunas away. i would speak with you alone." tuys motioned to the indunas to go, and they filed out. then buno saw me: "welcome, little induna," he said, his voice seeming even fainter. "welcome, mzaan bakoor! you are my friend, too. you must remain with oom tuys and me, for i have a request to make that you shall inherit from him when he is gone." tuys and i sat close to buno, and then i saw how little life was left in his once powerful body. "gin! give me gin," buno pleaded. "i must have strength to talk. give me gin!" tuys poured out a large drink of the fiery liquid and the king choked it down. he gasped for a moment, and then went on in a stronger voice. "nkoos, my white brother," buno said. "you are not of our people and therefore cannot die with me. you cannot have the joy and honor of joining the king in death. for i know now that i am dying. perhaps i shall not live to see another sunrise." i felt that he was right. one so weak and emaciated could not live long. undoubtedly buno was dying. "but you can serve my people when i am dead," he continued, "by continuing to be their true friend, just as you have been mine. i would have you make a paper which would tell all the world that you are the guardian of the people of swaziland. when you die you can make mzaan bakoor the guardian. he will be a man then and will care for my poor people. swaziland has many enemies--the boers, the english, the zulus, and others. all desire our land. you can prevent them from taking it. will you be their guardian when i am gone?" tuys met the feverish eyes of the dying monarch and then his deep voice rumbled. i remember noting how different it was from that of buno. "o king, you have spoken!" he answered. "your word is my command. so long as i live i shall guard your people and shall protect them from their enemies!" "it is well, nkoos," buno said, his voice scarce above a whisper. then he closed his eyes for a moment and rested. in a little while he asked for more gin, and then asked tuys to call the indunas. they filed it and stood on each side of the recumbent king. there were ten or twelve of them, all the greatest chiefs in swaziland. umzulek, i remember, stood at buno's feet. after a brief silence buno spoke. "indunas, i am dying," he said, his voice again quite clear. "soon i shall leave you, never to return. i go to the caves from which none come back. until now i have feared to die. i feared that enemies might bring evil days to swaziland. now, however, i go in peace. oom tuys, my friend, has promised to be the friend and guardian of our country when i am no longer here. he shall protect swaziland from the whites and zulus so long as he lives, and when he is gone, mzaan bakoor, who will be a man then and powerful, will act in his place. o indunas, you must look to my white brother for help when swaziland needs it. this is my command!" then he stopped. when buno said "this is my command!" his illness seemed to drop away from him and he became the great king again. the indunas raised their hands in token of acceptance of buno's command and then all together said, "the king's word is law!" for some reason or other i glanced at umzulek. he made the same motion as the others, but there was an intangible suggestion of revolt in his acceptance. i had a sudden feeling that he would make trouble after buno was gone. "once again i shall see my impis," said buno, his voice again weakening. "each day may be the last, but each day my warriors must salute their king once more!" next came an extraordinary exhibition. all but four of the indunas went out. those remaining lifted buno up--and i noted that they did it with ease--and half-carried, half-dragged him through the low opening of the hut to the clean air outside. there they laid him on a couch, facing the thousands of warriors. the whole affair seemed rehearsed. no sooner was the king settled, his eyes sweeping the serried ranks of the impis, than an imposing induna stepped out and led them in the royal salute. three times they gave it, with the sound of thunder in the mountains, and at each crash i could see a faint smile soften buno's harsh features. he had lived a king and like a king would die! then followed a sort of march past. it seemed to me that untold thousands of these great warriors went by, each raising his arms above his head in salute as he passed. before long buno became faint again, and tuys gave him a little more gin. how he was able to stick out this review was beyond me. i could not see where he got the strength. down in my heart i had a fear that something would go wrong and that buno would show his savagery by having some poor warrior killed, partly to satisfy his blood-craving and partly to impress us. however, luck was with us. no one blundered, and when the impis had passed by they re-formed along the roadway and gave the triple royal salute. that was the end, and the indunas carried buno back to his hut. he told tuys that he wanted to sleep and would send for him when he awaked. this was our dismissal, and we went to our wagon, which was at the usual place. i was very hungry and was glad to find that tuys's servants had prepared food. tuys was eating and remarking on the condition of the king when suddenly an induna came running in to us. he did not wait for any of the usual formalities, but dashed right up to where we sat on the ground, chewing our rusks and biltong. "come quick, come quick, nkoos!" he gasped. "the king is dying! a puff-adder has bitten him. come quick! he calls you!" we dropped our food and followed the chief at a run. in a few seconds we threw ourselves into buno's hut. a number of indunas were about him, all very excited. he was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the smoke-hole in the roof. tuys stood by his head and said, "i am here, o king!" this he repeated three or four times, the last time in a fair shout, before buno looked at him. for a moment the king licked his lips and made as though to speak. finally the words came: "i am going now, nkoos! i am as good as dead!" he cried, his voice shrill in its weakness. "the snake has done what the fever failed to do--the snake has given me release!" then he shook as though with a violent chill. his hands opened and shut convulsively and his head rolled from side to side. after a moment he became still and began speaking again. i could see that his body had begun to swell; he looked bloated. "it is the end!" he croaked. "i die! i die!... the king dies! but the king will die like a man! the king will die on his feet, like a warrior!" with superhuman strength he heaved himself up and sat bolt upright. tuys and several of the indunas sprang to his aid, and in a moment they had him on his feet. his legs seemed perfectly stiff. "let go! let go!" he cried. "i am a man and will meet death face to face!" they took their hands off him, and he stood swaying back and forth, his mouth working as he tried to speak. the light from the smoke-hole struck him on the head and deepened the lines of his face, throwing heavy shadows under the eyes and chin. these shadows intensified the cruelty of his face, and i felt a cold shudder. buno dying was even more terrible than buno killing! he must have stood for a moment only, but it seemed an age to me. his rolling eyes passed from chief to chief and his shaking right hand tore an assegai from the nearest. then the end! raising himself on his toes, his body straight and head thrown back, he threw both hands up and brought the spear down with a vicious stabbing motion. "soukbulala! soukbulala!" he shouted, and pitched forward dead. tuys, i remember, almost caught him as he fell. later i learned that his last cry was the war-shout of the swazis. it means "i'll kill you!" "he died as he lived," tuys said to me in dutch out of the corner of his mouth, while he leaned down and turned buno over. then he assisted the indunas in laying him out with his head on the block and a wonderful fur robe over his wasted body. when this was completed the indunas stepped back and gave their dead king the royal salute. a moment later one of them stepped out of the hut and raised his deep voice in a solemn shout. "nkoos ou pelela! e' buno impela e baba amaswazi ou pelela guti!" he cried. this he repeated over and over until it became a sort of chant. it was the announcement of buno's death and, translated, was about as follows, "the king is dead! buno the great, the father of his people, is dead!" we got out of the hut as soon as we could, and found the natives running from all directions. soon there was a great mob. they were quiet, but each seemed apprehensive. their voices rose in a subdued murmur. as i watched, it occurred to me that i did not see umzulek anywhere. it seemed queer that the king's brother should not be there. then came cries of "the queen! the queen! tzaneen! tzaneen!" and i could see the crowd split, leaving a wide passageway. down the alley came a score of splendid warriors, in their midst the finest looking woman i had yet seen. she walked with head erect and steady tread, exactly as a queen should carry herself. "it's tzaneen, the queen," tuys said, catching me by the arm. "she is the queen, and her unborn child will be the ruler of swaziland. watch closely now." she stopped short in front of us and saluted tuys. she was about six feet tall and was a most imposing figure. "nkoos, is it true that buno is dead?" she asked in a level voice. "nkosikaas, the king is dead," tuys replied. "his body lies within. a snake killed him." "how did the snake come to his kraal?" tzaneen asked, eyeing tuys keenly. "did that snake come on two feet?" this was a new idea. it had not occurred to me to question the manner in which the snake had reached the hut. with all the warriors about, even though they may have been taking their midday sleep, it seemed very peculiar that the puff-adder should have been able to reach buno without being seen and killed. again i found myself asking for umzulek. "i cannot tell how the snake came to the king," tuys said, in answer to tzaneen's questions. "i was at my camp when word was brought that buno was dying." tzaneen then stooped and entered the hut, followed by several other women whom i took to be her personal attendants or maids. we remained outside. it was not fitting that white men should see the zulu princess, queen of swaziland, with her dead king. no sooner had she entered the hut than the voices of the crowd rose in expectancy. i looked around to see another party coming up the rapidly formed passageway. there were more warriors in this party than the other, and again i could see a woman at the head of several others. as she passed, the people saluted. they had not done so before, and this struck me as queer. when the party came closer i could see that it was queen labotsibeni, the mother of the dead king. at her right hand was the missing umzulek. she seemed much agitated, but he strode along quite cheerfully. tuys stepped forward to meet the old queen. there was the usual salutation, and she asked, "my son, the king, is dead?" "yes, nkosikaas, it is so," tuys assured her. they stood silent for a moment, and then quite suddenly queen tzaneen joined the group. i had been watching labotsibeni so intently that i did not see her come out of the hut. the two queens stood looking at one another, each waiting for the other to salute. umzulek, behind the old queen, was watching tzaneen, and i had a feeling that something was about to happen. i could see that tuys was interested and saw him shift his feet, his right hand carelessly resting on the butt of his revolver. he, too, was watching umzulek. finally tzaneen spoke. "queen mother," she said, addressing labotsibeni, "our king is dead! you have lost your son and i my husband, the father of my unborn child, who is to be king of swaziland." "what if your child be a woman?" snapped back the old queen, who had evidently been thinking along practical lines. "who is to rule swaziland until your child is born?" "i am the queen!" said tzaneen, drawing herself up until she looked it and gazing fixedly at the old queen. labotsibeni met her eyes without flinching, and then without another word pushed by her and entered the hut where her son's body lay. tzaneen, calling her people to her, strode through the crowd. as she went, they gave her the royal salute. it looked as though the people were acknowledging her as their ruler. tuys and i stood back during the brief exchange between the queens. it was none of our business, of course, but he was keenly interested and did not miss a word. we decided that we were not wanted at the royal kraal about this time and went back to our camp. the day was dying, anyway, and tuys said he thought it would be dangerous to be abroad that night. "when the fires are lighted to-night," tuys told me as soon as we reached camp, "the witch-doctors will kill the ten indunas chosen to die with the king. we shall not go and see this. when the council chose these men, i was to be the first man killed, because i was a friend of buno. umzulek was one of his council and i don't trust him. buno ordered that i was not to be killed because i was white, but accidents happen in swaziland, as you know, and i don't care to take any chances." this seemed good sense to me. now that buno, our protector, was dead, i had begun to worry about our safety. the fact that buno had appointed tuys as "guardian" of his people might not carry as much weight as he thought. chapter viii the royal funeral--the "thunder of the shields"--not afraid to die--the witch-doctor's bloody work--what labotsibeni wanted--the burial of the indunas--rain-making and the "rain stone"--buno's burial in the caves--witch-doctors prevent our entering the caves--labotsibeni sends for gin. we had not been in camp more than a few minutes when an induna came to see tuys. he said he came from queen labotsibeni and that she wanted him to go and see her. tuys did not like the idea. "tell queen labotsibeni that i am here," he said. "if she wants to see me, let her come to me here!" as the fires were beginning to glow in the dusk, the old queen came. she was accompanied by only two or three warriors and several women. tuys gave her a bottle of gin, and she took a very large drink before they started talking. like all the swazis, she was inordinately fond of spirits. i sat close to tuys, feeling sure that i would hear something interesting. labotsibeni did not want to talk while i was there and suggested that i go and see the sacrifice. she said she would send her warriors with me and thus i could see the ten indunas killed. this did not appeal strongly to me, but tuys seemed to think i ought not to miss it. "mzaan bakoor, you won't get another chance soon to see a swazi king's burial ceremonies," he said. "you had better go." then he added in dutch, "don't be afraid, boy. you are perfectly safe with her men. no one dare touch them." so i reluctantly went. it was dark by this time, and it seemed as though all swaziland was going to attend the sacrifice. we soon found ourselves in a great crowd, every one armed and in full war costume. there were no women, these being left behind to mind the fires. the two warriors who acted as my escort were great grim-faced savages, both of them a head taller than me. they must have been well over six feet, and i had to almost trot to keep up with them. both were indunas, and from what they said i gathered that a brother of one of them was to be killed at the sacrifice. both spoke of his impending death as though it were a great honor. it was not until the actual ceremony that i was sure whose brother it was. the fire in front of buno's hut was a great blaze. it lighted up the scores of huts nearby and revealed thousands of warriors drawn up in rows, more than twenty deep, about it. by using queen labotsibeni's name, my escort forced our way through until we stood on the very edge of the fire. all about me i could hear the deep-throated voices of the warriors. for fully fifteen minutes nothing happened, except that those behind seemed to press closer. then suddenly a number of men dashed into the open space, each bearing a huge bundle of faggots. they waited, bundles on head, and an expectant hush succeeded the hum of voices. the only sound was the crackle of the fire. from where we stood we could see the entrance to buno's hut, standing out like a black spot in the illumination. while we watched a strange figure came out. he was wearing furs and feathers and wore a hideous mask. it was the head witch-doctor! behind him came six or seven lesser witch-doctors bearing the body of the king. they straightened up, and a second later lifted their burden above their heads. at this the head witch-doctor threw up his hands and the entire multitude of warriors gave the triple royal salute. the earth fairly trembled when their feet came down. then the faggot-men threw their loads into the fire and the flames leaped a score of feet into the air. the king's body was placed on the mats in front of his hut, the witch-doctors forming a guard on either side. this was the beginning of the real ceremony. led by the chief witch-doctor, the dancing began. now the swaziland idea of dancing consists of leaps into the air and incessant stamping of the feet. soon thousands were dancing and the dust became a haze before the bright flames of the fire. i was probably the only person within sight of buno's body who was not dancing. my two bodyguards were leaping wildly, and i noted that they were most earnest in their exercise. the dance must have lasted five minutes. it was brought to a sudden stop by the chief witch-doctor, who threw up his arms and called a halt. in just as short a time as they had gone dance mad, the entire assemblage quieted down. the stirring ceased and i could feel the air of dread expectancy that showed the end of the drama was in sight. [illustration: queen tzaneen, mother of the crown prince she is wearing a silk wrap presented to her by dr. o'neil. note the hair, which is worked up into this peculiar shape upon marriage] [illustration: queen tzaneen with some zulu princesses they had arrived to present themselves in marriage to the prince. they are cousins of the queen, as she is a zulu by birth] [illustration: umzulek, a resourceful and influential exile he is living in a territory set aside for him. on his right is prince bilakzi, who is soliciting his assistance for sebuza in obtaining his throne] the witch-doctor gave some sort of a command, and from behind buno's hut came ten of the most splendid savages i have ever seen. they were all indunas and wore the full costume of their rank. on their heads were great plumes and each carried his shield, knob-kerrie, and assegai. with steady tramp they passed by their dead king and lined up, facing his body, in front of the fire. no sooner were they in place than they gave the royal salute. then they did something i had not seen before. with steady rythmic strokes they beat on their great shields with their knob-kerries. this lasted for only a moment, but it was like the throbbing of a heart--the heart of swaziland, it seemed to me. when the hollow roar died, the chief witch-doctor stepped out and made an oration. we could not hear him very plainly. however, i caught a few phrases. "indunas, great heroes of swaziland," he shouted, illustrating his words with extravagant gestures and contortions, "you have been chosen of all our people to die with our king. there is not one present who does not envy you! tens of thousands are here, and all covet the honor that is yours. "buno, our great king, the saviour of swaziland, has gone! great indunas, you would not want to live without your peerless leader--life would mean nothing!" there was a lot more, but i did not get it. the oration must have lasted a good half hour, the condemned men standing like statues all the while. i did not understand the last remarks of the witch-doctor, but the instant he stopped the royal salute, repeated once, crashed out. then the first of the ten indunas stepped out. he raised his shield and knob-kerrie above his head and saluted the dead king. immediately came the "thunder of the shields." every warrior in the entire crowd began striking his shield with his knob-kerrie. there was no staccato to the blows--rather a rubbing, pulling stroke that brought each blow out with repeated vibrations. in a few moments a cadence was set up and the strokes came all together at equal intervals. the effect was terrific; the air seemed to pulsate with the vibrations and it seemed to catch me right in the pit of the stomach. the steady drumming slowly rose in a crescendo, and then the induna turned from the king's body and with one far-flung motion threw his shield and arms into the fire. next he turned, threw his head back, and faced the body. slowly and firmly he stepped forward until he stood beside his dead king. the chief witch-doctor stood a pace or two from him, his right hand holding a great curved knife which gleamed and shimmered in the bright light of the fire. there was a tense moment, made doubly painful by the steady roar of the beaten shields. i was fascinated. i knew what was coming and dreaded to see it. yet i found myself powerless to look away; my eyes were riveted on that murderous knife! slowly the witch-doctor raised the knife above his head. then one step forward, a lightning thrust, and the induna came down like a falling tree! he did not stir; there was no convulsive death struggle. the doctor was an efficient butcher. each of the others went to his death in exactly the same way. there was no flinching, no hesitation; open-eyed and unafraid these savages went like stoics to their death. the witch-doctor did not bungle; each stroke brought death and there was no need for the services of his assistants who stood ready with stabbing spears. the next to the last man to die was the brother of the fiercest of my two bodyguards. this was evident from the new energy with which my man beat his shield. if i had not noticed this, his remark after the knife went home would have enlightened me. "a man! a brave man! a warrior!" he said to his companion in a hoarse, dust-choked voice. "my brother is a brave induna. he is a true son of my mother!" when the last man was sacrificed, the witch-doctor made another speech. it was about what heroes the ten indunas had been and what a great king they had lost. one sentence i remember. "so long as warriors are willing to die for swaziland," he shouted, "our country is safe! so long as our best face death without fear, we need not fear the zulus, boers, or british. the white men fear death. they can never stand against our impis if our warriors are led by such men as those who died to-night!" the thought came to me that it was rather foolish to kill indunas, leaders of warriors, in this fashion, but it was the ancient custom and their brave death made for heroism among those who lived. each kraal to which one of the sacrificed indunas belonged gloried in his death and it became a tradition for the younger warriors to live up to. the doctor ceased speaking after a little and the crowd began to move away. the king's body was taken back to his hut and the fire allowed to burn low. when we left, which we did as soon as we could, the chief witch-doctor was marching up and down outside the hut and accompanying his steps with a sort of chant. my most distinct memory of the sacrifice is the sensation i suffered when the drumming of the shields reached its height. i shall never forget this. every time i hear the bass drum stroked, bringing out all its bass vibrations, memory jerks me back to the unerring slash of the sacrificial knife at buno's kraal in lebombo. i know that for months afterward i used to hear those shields in that brief moment between wakefulness and sleep. labotsibeni had gone when i reached camp. oom tuys was pacing up and down, smoking his great pipe and waiting for me. he gave me a hug when i reached the firelight and seemed quite relieved at seeing me. "i was worried, you were so long," he said. "buno's death means trouble in swaziland, and i was afraid you might have been captured as a hostage or even killed. tell me, what did you see?" then i told him all about the sacrifice. i found myself strangely tired and lay down while i talked. tuys listened without interruption until i had finished. then he asked, "are you sure there were ten indunas sacrificed?" i told him i was sure, because i had mechanically counted them when they stood before the fire. "then i am safe," he replied. "if ten have been killed, there will be no more. ten is the royal number, and there must not be one more or less. good!" then he told me about queen labotsibeni's visit. it seems she had called on "the white king of swaziland" for his help in a matter of importance to the state. buno's death had left the throne vacant. queen tzaneen could not reign because she was not a native-born swazi. her child, if a man, could not become king until he became of age. hence the throne was vacant, and labotsibeni wanted tuys to use his influence to have her recognized as queen by the british and boers. "the old lady is right," he said. "she is the only one able to rule swaziland. every one knows that she practically ruled as the royal queen of king umbandine and during buno's reign she was always the power behind the throne. most of the time she was not very far behind, either! "she is very keen. she demanded that i pay the tribute to her in place of buno! i told her that she could have the gin, but that i could not give her the gold without permission from oom paul. she didn't like that very much, but i was able to make her see that i was right. to-morrow i shall take her the gin and she'll have to be satisfied with that. "i shall recommend that labotsibeni be appointed regent until the right king is found. umzulek, i hear, thinks that he ought to succeed buno, and there is talk that he will take the throne by force. i shall have to prevent that." exhausted as i was, i found sleep difficult that night. for some time i lay there listening to tuys's regular breathing and afraid that he might snore, as he did sometimes. if he had, i know i could not have stood it--each deep note would have started the shields drumming again. we were up at dawn next morning and never did that first cup of coffee taste so good. buno was to be buried that day and i hoped to see a ceremony. before we had breakfasted a score of labotsibeni's warriors, led by a lesser induna, arrived as our escort for the day. they brought word that buno would be "taken to the caves when the shadows were least," or at noon. the indunas who had been sacrificed, however, were being buried during the morning. so we decided to attend the funerals. i was much disappointed. there were no ceremonials. in fact, the most exciting thing that happened was that one of the junior witch-doctors was bitten by a snake and speedily died. the indunas were buried in a tangled patch of brush and tall grass, with a few trees breaking its monotony. this was set apart for indunas only, the plain people being buried anywhere they happened to die. all the important chiefs of swaziland had been buried there ever since the days of king umbandine, yet the place was absolutely unkempt and full of snakes. when we arrived at buno's kraal, the bodies of the indunas were laid out in a row. near each stood witch-doctors and warriors. not far away were a number of women and children. these were the wives of the dead men. as we came up an order was given and the warriors lifted up the bodies. each band of pall-bearers was led by a witch-doctor, while the widows and children of each induna fell in behind. there was no wailing or mourning--the women seemed as stoical as their departed husbands had been when they faced the knife on the night before. all the women had their heads shaved as a sign that their husbands were dead. this is their custom. from her earliest girlhood the swazi woman trains her hair to grow in a sort of cone or pyramid. when her husband dies the hair is shaved right up to this mound, leaving much of the head bare. the daughters of these widows had their heads entirely shaved. this also is the custom, so it is quite possible to tell for whom the swazi women mourn and also how recent is their loss. tuys and i followed the procession to the burial ground--"the place of indunas," they call it--and saw the simple ceremonies. these only consisted of placing the body in a shallow hole, scratching the dirt over it, and then piling rocks on top. beside each grave was placed a pot of corn-meal and some uncooked meat, so that the induna might have food if he should come back. this was the only suggestion of future life. the swazi is a very primitive savage; he has no hell or heaven and, under normal circumstances, no god. their only supernatural belief is in a sort of evil spirit or devil. this devil, however, is under the control of the ruler and usually is most active in sending or holding back the rain so necessary to the scanty crops grown by the swazis. in connection with this devil it is important to know that queen labotsibeni was the "rain-maker" of swaziland. this gave her great power, since the natives fully believed in her supernatural powers. how she gained this control over the devil is an interesting chapter in swazi history. in the old days the zulu chiefs possessed this rain-making gift, which was supposed to be vested in a small round stone called the "rain stone." when ama-swazi led the rebellion against the zulus and broke away from them, he captured this stone and took it with him. much of his ascendancy was based on its possession. umbandine, his son, inherited the stone, and queen labotsibeni promptly annexed it on his death. king buno never owned it, and during his entire reign his mother provided the rain for swaziland. labotsibeni was wise in her way and made the "rain stone" a source of revenue. now and then dry spells strike swaziland, and the hot sun burns up the crops and causes much suffering. at such a time the indunas came to the old queen and begged her to make rain. she always went through some incantation before assenting, and then announced her price. it was usually a portion of corn from each kraal, the total amounting to many bushels. when this was paid, she agreed to make rain. it is peculiar that she was often successful and that rain followed shortly after her promise. if, however, the rain did not come, she would announce that one of her chiefs was plotting against her and that she had surrendered the rule of the weather to the devil so that he might punish her people. on such occasions her wrath was terrible, and this is probably one of the reasons why she was so feared. tuys told me that labotsibeni in a rage was a "perfect she-devil" and that even her indunas would run to avoid her. she was a wise old queen; no matter how the weather acted, she had it arranged so that she could not lose! on the way out of the indunas' burying-ground, the witch-doctor stepped on a snake. we came up to him as he sat waiting for death, the body of the adder beside him with its head crushed. he rocked slowly back and forth, looking straight ahead and making no sound. i wanted to do something for him. "what's the use, lad?" tuys said. "there is no cure for the puff-adder's bite, unless you have a drug-shop along. he must die, and die soon, and he knows it. come on, unless you want to see him go?" i most certainly did not, so we went along, keeping our eyes on the ground lest we run afoul of a snake. i looked back a moment later and saw that the stricken man had laid down, and then i knew that his suffering would soon be over. none of the other natives seemed to give a second thought to him; under buno's rule they had grown more callous than ever. it was almost noon when we reached buno's kraal, and there was a large gathering of witch-doctors about his hut. the witch-doctors of our burial-party joined them, and tuys informed me that practically all the witch-doctors in swaziland were there. "now would be a good time for some target practice," he said grimly. "in about five minutes a few quick shots could remove most of the sources of trouble in this country. if those witch-doctors were all killed, swaziland would be a happier land." soon the head witch-doctor--the one who did the butchering so well the night before--detached himself from the group and began to look at the sun. he stood his wand on the ground and studied its shadow. after a time this seemed to satisfy him, and he sent two of the others out of the kraal on the run. shortly after came the sound of many feet, and soon the royal impi filed into the enclosure. the warriors ranged themselves on either side of the pathway, just as i had so often seen them do before. when they were in place the chief doctor went into buno's hut. out he came a few minutes later, with six others carrying the body of the king. as they swung it to their shoulders the impi saluted. after the third thud of stamping feet the chief doctor started down the lane of warriors. behind him came those bearing the body, with the other doctors following them. last of all came a number of unarmed men carrying fresh-killed beef, corn, and pots of tswala. this was the king's funeral cortège proper. when it reached the end of the impi, the warriors turned and followed in marching order, acting as escort. tuys and i dropped in behind. i was very curious to see "the caves" where buno was to be buried. as we followed the slow procession, tuys told me about them. "no white man has ever entered these caves," he said. "they are a little distance up the mountain and are said to be immense. the witch-doctors are the only natives who ever enter them, and they tell queer tales about what goes on. they say that there are rivers and smoke and bright lights in some of the caves. i don't believe this, of course, but they say it. i think that the mystery of the caves is part of the foolishness practiced by these witch-doctors and is only trumped up to keep the people away. not long ago when i asked a witch-doctor if he would show me king umbandine's grave in the caves, he pretended to be much frightened and told me that the devil lived in the caves and would be angry if a white man entered them. "only the kings of swaziland are buried in the caves. ama-swazi was the first. his body was brought up from his kraal in the low country. umbandine is there, and now buno is going to join them. i suppose labotsibeni will have the honor when she dies, although it is quite likely that the witch-doctors will refuse to allow a woman to be buried there." the caves were about four miles from the royal kraal at lebombo and much of the trail was uphill. we reached them in about an hour, and i saw that there were a number of entrances, all fissures in the rocks. the procession stopped and the bearers were relieved by six others. the change was made without laying the king's body on the ground. this was in accordance with the ancient customs--a king's body must not touch the ground from the time it starts on its last trek until it is laid at rest in the caves. the new bearers faced about and raised the body high above their heads. while they held it there the royal impi gave their dead king his last salute. then the witch-doctors took the food from the unarmed men and a moment later the entire band of "priests" disappeared among the rocks. that was the last of buno, rightly called "the terrible," the most powerful and cruel king swaziland has ever had. the impi turned and started down the trail at a smart pace, leaving tuys and me behind. these great warriors seemed glad that the funeral was over. they swung by us with light steps, many of them grinning at the white men as they went by. now i was very curious to know what was inside the caves. there was so much mystery about them that it fired my youthful imagination. i spoke of this to tuys and was pleased to find that he also was curious. "yes, i'd like to have a look at them," he said. "buno and labotsibeni have told me some queer yarns about them, and they are the one thing in swaziland that i am not familiar with. let's see if we can't get into them." the witch-doctors had not come out yet, and we decided to wait until they did. i suggested that they were engaged in some ceremony, but tuys, knowing the native, would not agree with me. "those humbugs are probably eating the food and drinking the good beer," he said, with a snort of disgust. "i'd hate to believe that they'd let it go to waste. i'll bet that buno will go hungry if he comes back!" expecting that they would soon come out, we hid behind some rocks, feeling sure that they would think we had gone back with the impi. our guess was good. in a little while we saw them tramping down the trail. as soon as they passed the bend from beyond which the entrances to the caves could not be seen, we started on our exploration. there seemed to be any number of ways into these mysterious caves. however, tuys's training led him to follow the footprints of the witch-doctors. they must have come out by another route, for all the prints faced inward. tuys led, and i noticed that he was carrying his revolver in his hand, ready for instant use. we passed between a number of great rocks, all of which seemed to be split by some terrific force. but we did not go far. there came a sharp turn to the right, and straight in front of us was the entrance to the caves. in front of it stood six witch-doctors with assegais drawn back, ready to strike! tuys did not hesitate long enough to take one breath. he wheeled in his tracks and we turned back. we did not run or make unseemly haste, but we certainly moved faster than we had come in. when we reached the outside, tuys made but one remark. "serves us right!" he exclaimed. "i ought to have had sense enough to count those witch-doctors." i remember that it was a hot walk back to our camp. probably our chagrin added to the temperature. to this day no white man has penetrated the caves. i hope to do so the next time i visit swaziland. i never had a chance on my subsequent visits, but i shall certainly find a way the next time. the thought is fascinating, but i suppose i shall be disappointed if i ever do explore this royal burial-place. like most things in life, it will fail to come up to expectations. not long after we reached our camp several indunas and a small band of warriors called on tuys. they were part of the bodyguard of labotsibeni and had come on a special errand. "nkoos, white king," the chief induna began with much ceremony, "the great queen labotsibeni sends me to you with a message. even now she, the mother of buno, waits your answer." i was interested to see that he spoke of buno as though that cruel ruler still lived. the thought came to me that his infamy would keep him alive for some time, at least in the memories of those who had witnessed any of his bloody pastimes. tuys did not seem to understand what the induna was driving at, and he asked several questions. the chief said that the old queen had instructed him to ask tuys if her "white brother" did not remember his promise. she was waiting for him to fulfil what he had said he would do. there was some more palaver, and then tuys suddenly woke up. "why, the old girl wants her gin!" he said, laughing. then he got out four small cases of it and presented them to the induna. "i'd go along with him," tuys said to me in dutch, "if i was not afraid that i'd have to lie to the old queen. she wants the job of ruling swaziland until the question of the new king is decided, and she expects me to get the british to acknowledge her as regent. i don't know what i'll be able to do, and if i promise that she will get the job, and she doesn't get it, i'll be in a fine pickle! i think i'll avoid her, and we'd better get going to-night and make a break for rietvlei." [illustration: swazi warriors and women dancing the ceremonies were held when dr. o'neil and his companions were inducted into the royal impi] [illustration: princesses of royal birth the fourth from the left is a sister to crown prince sebuza. they are all dressed up in gaudy colors--clothes which we had presented them] chapter ix sibijaan's sportiveness almost costs his life--how tuys became the friend of buno--labotsibeni endorsed as regent of swaziland--umzulek plots to seize the throne--the boers invade swaziland--tuys dictates peace between the queens--umzulek gets his lesson. the midday siesta period was about over and the kraals were beginning to show signs of life again. the native women were going about their domestic duties and the men, as usual, were resting in the shade and furbishing their weapons. our activity in breaking camp did not attract much attention, except on the part of the usual number of small boys, and before long we were on the trail to the valley of heaven. we only traveled about half as fast as we had come in and were constantly being held up by crowds going in the same direction. thousands upon thousands had come to see the sacrifice of the ten indunas and were now returning to their homes. sibijaan nearly got us into a pretty row shortly before we struck the valley. he was driving the wagon with its four mules, and began to get impatient over the crowded roadway. he got careless with his sjambok and flicked a tall swazi warrior on a naked but important part of his anatomy. now the sjambok cuts like a knife, and the savage gave a tremendous jump. in fact, he seemed to me to jump twice--once straight up in the air and the second time toward the wagon, brandishing his assegai and shouting. sibijaan dived into the wagon under the cover, and the enraged induna dashed round to the rear of the vehicle in the hope that its driver was trying to escape that way. then ensued a sort of merry-go-round, the induna dashing madly from front to back of the wagon and sibijaan trying to keep one guess ahead of him. both were yelling, and tuys and i hurried to stop the trouble. however, we were too late! the induna suddenly stopped at the side of the wagon where he could watch the front, his spear poised for murder. he was the cat watching the rat-hole, the hunter awaiting his prey. tuys snatched his revolver from its holster and was just aiming at the savage when we saw the flap of the wagon-cover lifted just a little and a thin arm come out. in the hand was a short knob-kerrie, and it caught the irate chief on the back of the head with one fell sweep. down he came with a crash, his shield thudding as it hit the ground. a second later sibijaan hopped out of the wagon, knife in hand, evidently intending to finish the job. tuys reached down from his horse and swung the little beggar up before him, where he gave him a good spanking. that was the end of the incident, since the induna found himself looking into the business end of tuys's revolver when he woke up from his trance. late that evening we camped in the valley of heaven. we passed several kraals in our leisurely progress and talked with some of the indunas. none of them seemed very sorry that buno was gone, but there was a general expression of anxiety concerning the next ruler. most of them thought that labotsibeni should get the job, but not a few favored umzulek--in fact, there seemed to be quite a strong umzulek sentiment. during our next day's trek i asked oom tuys how it happened that he and buno were such good friends. tuys explained that he had originally befriended buno and the swazis because the boers wanted the swazis as a sort of bulwark against the british. on several occasions tuys had been able to save land for buno when certain of the english had tried to get it away from him, and this had made the savage his good friend for life. incidentally, it helped the boer cause. "the one great thing i did for buno," tuys went on, "was about two years ago when oom paul decided to discipline him. one of my bodyguard had talked too much in pretoria and the president had learned about the bloody atrocities buno was committing. it seems the story that really outraged oom paul's feelings was one about buno having some young girls cut open. "oom paul sent for me and asked me about this. naturally, i knew nothing about it. how could i? if i'd seen it, it was my duty to report it, wasn't it? if i hadn't seen it, how could i know anything about it? of course i couldn't tell oom paul that buno and i had an important business deal on at that time, could i? "somehow or other i don't think oom paul believed me. he sent word to buno that he must behave and stop killing people, and buno sent word back that paul had better mind his own business, or words to that general effect. the fool thought that i would protect him and that he could get cheeky with oom paul! "well, the old man had had enough of buno's nonsense and he sent a command of about five thousand men into swaziland to smash him. instead of leaving me out of it, our cunning president sent me along as second-in-command. i was the guide and all that sort of thing, and had to practically assure buno's getting jolly well licked, if not killed. after some days we got to within twenty miles of lebombo and planned to attack the royal kraal at dawn next morning. "i did not like the idea of buno being captured, because i knew that would be the end of him. oom paul was not in the mood to stand further nonsense. that night i was in command of the sentries, and shortly after dark i placed my sergeant in charge and sneaked off to the kraal of a chief who lived near where we were camped. he knew me, and from him i got a good horse. then i rode like the devil to lebombo and warned buno what was going to happen. "i got back to our camp just as the commando was saddling up to move to the attack. we rode hard and reached the kraal about four o'clock--to find the entire place empty. there wasn't a single swazi there! the king and all his warriors had flown. so we were ordered to pursue him, and i led the way. later i learned that we had gone in exactly the wrong direction, so buno escaped. "oom paul decided that buno had learned his lesson and would behave thereafter, since he had been shown that the boers would come and get him if he did not. however, buno felt that i would always pull him out of any hole he might get into, so the lesson was lost on him. one thing oom paul did accomplish, however, and that was to make buno realize what a good friend i was!" my mother was very glad to see us when we reached rietvlei. father had returned, and he spoke sharply to tuys for taking me with him on so dangerous a trip. tuys told him that he had buno's word for our safety, but that did not much impress my father. "the word of a kaffir is good so long as he remembers," he said, "but you know that the best of them are children, and children forget. it was lucky you came out as soon as you did. from what you have told me and from what i've heard conditions are likely to be bad in swaziland until the government selects a ruler." tuys and he then began discussing what should be done about this. father, i found, knew all about the politics of swaziland, and he agreed with tuys that the old queen was the right person to rule until a king was set up. their talk ended with my father writing a letter for tuys to take to oom paul. he recommended that labotsibeni be recognized as regent for the time being, or until queen tzaneen's child was born. if the child was a boy, he would be the next king of swaziland; if a girl, arrangements would have to be made for one of buno's brothers to take the throne. buno had a number of brothers, among whom were lomwazi, umzulek, debeseembie, and one other whose name i have forgotten but who was known as a drunkard and a generally disreputable character. oom tuys left next morning to report conditions to oom paul, and we heard nothing for several months. finally, on the new moon, about three months later, messengers came to rietvlei from queen labotsibeni. tuys was with us, having arrived several days before. after the usual salutes and other ceremonial the head induna spoke: "nkoos, the queen mother sends to you in her trouble. her son, the late king buno, gave you guardianship over swaziland and queen labotsibeni wants your counsel. even now queen tzaneen, the royal widow, gives birth. we do not yet know whether it will be a man-child or not. umzulek plots to take the throne by force and is mustering his impis. thousands are flocking to his support and the impis of the queens are gathering at zombode. if you do not come quickly, there will be war in our country. queen labotsibeni prays that you come and prevent war." this was the situation that father and tuys had feared. tuys had his orders from oom paul and knew what he was to do. he told the induna what to expect. "tell your queen," he said, "that i am coming within three days with a great army of white men. tell her that i shall see that the throne is preserved to the dynasty and that none except the one to whom it rightfully belongs shall become king of swaziland." with this message the induna withdrew, and we saw him and his men leaving at top speed to carry these words of cheer to labotsibeni. then came a hurried mobilization of all the fighting boers within a day's ride of rietvlei. word was sent far and wide over the veldt--to the outlying farms, to the small towns, to belfast, and to every place where men might be found. within three days the valley of reeds became an armed camp. there were more than a thousand well armed, hard-riding boers waiting for the word to trek into swaziland. these people of ours were a hardy lot. there were men of sixty and even seventy years, and mixed in with them were their sons and grandsons, many of the latter being boys of sixteen and seventeen. all, however, were well armed and serious. they were on a serious business and stood ready to die in the service of their great leader, oom paul. at dawn on the fourth day we started. from the very beginning it was a hard ride. the burghers rode in what was practically military formation, two by two, with tuys leading. i went along as his aide and rode as close to him as the trails would permit. i have often thought of that trek. the feeling between boers and british was getting more bitter every day, and these boer farmers were really taking a training march for the dark days that were to come so soon. it was a heartening sight to look back on our cavalcade and see the great hats bobbing up and down, the lean, wiry ponies, the ready rifles, and the grim faces, most of them bearded. we took no natives with us. our food was biltong and rusks, and each man carried enough to last him for two weeks. every boer took care of his own horse and did everything for himself. it was felt that there might be trouble, and tuys never trusted the kaffirs in a tight place. during the morning of the second day's trek, not long after we had passed the vaal river, we were met by several indunas and a small impi. they stood in the middle of the roadway making peace signs, and tuys brought our little army to a halt. then he and i rode forward and waited. the chief induna came to meet us. i recognized him as one of those whom i had seen in queen tzaneen's train and knew that he came from her. "nkoos, queen tzaneen sent me to you," he said to tuys, with all humility. "yesterday she gave birth to a prince, the rightful heir to the throne! she sends you the message that she is afraid that umzulek will kill her son. even now she is afraid to leave lebombo. also, queen tzaneen asks that you protect her from queen labotsibeni and prevent the queen mother from seizing the throne." tuys listened to his message and then asked what was really going on in swaziland. the induna told him that umzulek had gathered his impis together and it was rumored that he would take the throne by force. queen labotsibeni had gathered all her warriors, and it was understood that she would fight to keep umzulek from becoming ruler. queen tzaneen, on her side, had mustered all the men who remained faithful to the memory of king buno, and it was said that she would take the throne if she could muster enough force to do it. taking it all in all, the stage was set for a bloody civil strife in swaziland. "it looks as though we had work ahead," tuys said to me in dutch, after the induna had related these events. "well, we have our job to do and the sooner we get it over the better." then he turned to the induna. "tell your queen that we have heard the story and will take care of her," he directed him. tuys then gave the word to continue our march. unlike all other armies, our little force was truly democratic and every man was entitled to know what out task was to be. tuys sent for several of the leaders, men who headed the commandos of their districts, and told them about the political situation in swaziland. "oom paul's orders are that we must secure the throne for the rightful heir," he said. "labotsibeni must be appointed regent until the new prince comes of age, and it is our job to pacify the people and prevent war. if, however, war there must be, we shall strike first and strike hard! we must remember that death is the only argument that a kaffir understands and must make a clean job of it." i understood what a "clean job" meant--that every native, chief or plain warrior, who did not like the conditions tuys laid down was to be killed. it began to look as though we should have some hard fighting and our devoted band of about a thousand would find themselves pitted against great odds. we pushed our horses to their limit and made splendid time. the boer pony or veldt-bred horse is almost tireless, and our mounts were extended to the utmost. the result was that we reached zombode early next morning. when we came in sight of the kraals our cavalry was deployed in a double rank about five hundred horses wide. we trotted to the kraals in this formation, every man with his rifle on his hip, ready for anything. when we had halted, tuys acknowledged the indunas that had come out to meet him. there was no formality about tuys this time. he represented the boer government and was there as conqueror to lay down the law. the indunas noted the difference, and i could see the sullen glint in their eyes as they took their orders from him. "tell queen labotsibeni that i am here," tuys directed. "i shall wait for her only a short time and she had better come as quickly as she can." without a word the indunas hastened into the royal kraal, while we loosened up a bit and let our horses breathe. the boer knows how to take care of his mount, and here and there could be seen men arranging their girths and making their ponies more comfortable. in the very shortest time queen labotsibeni came out of her kraal, attended by lomwazi, her indunas, and a number of warriors. the second they came in sight every man of our force was back again in his saddle, his rifle at the ready. the old queen walked slowly and seemingly with difficulty. she was very tall and quite fat, but carried herself with pride. as always, she was scrupulously clean, her black face shining in the early morning sun. labotsibeni came to a halt about twenty feet in front of tuys and me, and her bodyguard ranged themselves on either side of her. they were picked men and as fine figures of savages as was their old queen. tuys let her wait for a moment and then got off his horse, motioning to me to join him. we stepped forward, and this time tuys did not shake hands when greeting her. "nkosikaas, i have heard what is going on in swaziland," he said, simply but very severely, "and i have come with my army to see that justice is done. i come from oom paul, our great king, and he has authorized me to do as i see fit. "my order to you is that to-morrow you meet me at the little river which lies between zombode and lebombo. you will be there as soon as the sun shines on the water. there will be a conference and the peace of swaziland will be assured. i have spoken!" labotsibeni was a proud old woman and did not seem to like to have to take orders in this fashion. she looked at tuys for a moment in a very indignant way, but dropped her eyes when they met his. she started to speak, and i could see that she had a lot to say, too. tuys's glance cowed her, however, and after a moment of ground-searching her eyes ran up and down the ranks of our determined army. a moment later she gave in. "nkoos, i shall be there," she said, quite humbly. then she gave a sign to her indunas and warriors, and all together they gave tuys the royal salute. this ended the interview. without another word tuys shouted the command for us to march, and we started for lebombo. our only stop was to water the horses at the little river tuys had mentioned, and then we pressed on to lebombo, arriving at the kraals in the same formation as before. evidently the word had gone ahead that we were coming, for three full impis, or about three thousand warriors, were lined up waiting for us. as soon as we came close they gave us the salute, showing that they were not arrayed for hostile purposes. had they been, they would have stood a poor chance, for our little army would have wiped them out in short order. as before, a number of indunas came out to meet us and tuys repeated his program. "i am the law and this is my order," he said. "tell queen tzaneen i am here and wait for her to come to me." there was no hesitation on the part of the indunas. the natives have an extraordinary method of getting word to one another, and they knew that tuys came on a far different mission than usual. the indunas bowed their heads submissively, and a short time after accompanied tzaneen to our presence. however, she was inclined to be a little haughty and carried herself proudly. tuys hardly looked at her. she, like labotsibeni, was a finely-built savage, but not so fat as the old queen. her hair had grown out to quite a length, showing that buno had been dead for some months. tuys gave her the same orders as he had given labotsibeni, and she agreed to meet him at the river. then tuys asked for umzulek. "umzulek is at his kraal half a day's trek from here," she informed him. "he has gathered his impis there and threatens to make war unless he is made king. also, word has come that he will kill my child, the infant prince sebuza, so that none shall stand in his way." "your son, nkosikaas, widow of buno, shall be safe," tuys assured her. "you will send a messenger to umzulek bidding him to attend our conference at the little river. that is my order!" and so tuys arranged the conference at which the future peace of swaziland was to be secured. we rode easily back to the little stream and there made our camp. it was the middle of the day when we unsaddled and, except for those on guard, we all went to sleep. late that afternoon tuys called a council of the commando leaders and prepared for next morning. that night we doubled our guards and i stood watch for several hours. it was the first time i had ever done this and it was a wonderful experience. the bright moon picked out every object on the little plateau and the stream seemed to be a streak of rippling silver. our camp was on a small kopje, or hill, with the river at its base, and with the first streaks of dawn we awoke our men. it was none too soon. by the time it was fully light we could see thousands of warriors coming from either direction. these were the impis of the two queens. our men, mounted and ready, formed a double line around the top of the hill and waited. the impis came closer and stopped on either side of the stream. they were only about a hundred yards apart, and the thought came to me that here was the setting for a fine battle. this, however, it was our duty to prevent. soon tuys sent me, with a bodyguard, to give his orders to the indunas who stood resting on their shields in front of each army. these orders were simple. i told them that their queen was to come to the conference immediately and that each should bring only her bodyguard with her. in a short time tzaneen and labotsibeni arrived and were seated facing tuys and a number of the commando leaders. there was no formality about the business whatever. the first question tuys asked was as to the whereabouts of umzulek. "he sent my messengers back in haste," tzaneen reported, "to say that he was very sick and could not come. when my induna said to him that it was an order, he threatened to kill him, and so he came back without further delay." i could see that this annoyed tuys. he ran his hand through his beard in an aggravated fashion and then spoke: "umzulek lies," he said decisively, "but he also prophesies! he will be very sick. perhaps he will be so sick that he will die, if i go to see him. he will find that i am a bad witch-doctor and will know that it is not good to refuse an order!" then tuys delivered his ultimatum, and it was the arrangement by which peace was preserved in swaziland for nearly a score of years. it was a striking scene. each of the queens sat in front of her bodyguard, while behind tuys stood the keen-eyed boer leaders. except for their plumes and colored trappings, the armies of the two queens almost blended into the barren brown veldt. over all was the crystal-clear sky of south africa, with the bright sun throwing clean-cut shadows. the rocky hills that surrounded the little plateau seemed to form the irregular walls of an amphitheater, with our council hill in the center. tuys first addressed queen tzaneen. "nkosikaas, your son, the prince sebuza," he said, "is the son of buno, the grandson of umbandine and the lineal descendant of ama-swazi. sebuza is the rightful heir to the throne and shall be king of swaziland." tzaneen threw her head back and glanced triumphantly at the old queen, who was watching tuys with deep concern. "and you, queen labotsibeni, mother of buno and grandmother of the infant prince sebuza," tuys said, turning to her, "shall govern as queen regent until sebuza is a man and fit to become king." labotsibeni straightened up and a smile lighted up her hard, old face. however, i noticed that she did not even look at tzaneen. "those are the orders of him who buno made guardian of swaziland," tuys said, talking to both, "and oom paul, the great induna of the boers, has placed thousands of white warriors at his command to see that these orders are obeyed." tuys then asked each queen if she would obey, and both promised they would. he told them that he would come with a great army and take their country away from them if he heard that they had broken their promises in the slightest degree. this was the end of the conference. in this way the boer government recognized labotsibeni as the regent of swaziland until the proper time for sebuza to become king and thus showed the way for a peace which lasted nearly twenty years. shortly afterward the british also agreed to this arrangement, and it is said that they did so after talking the matter over with oom paul and tuys. however, this was not the end of our job. umzulek had to be reckoned with. if he was not taught his lesson, it was quite likely that he would continue making trouble and sooner or later bring on a civil war. when the two queens had gone, tuys called into conference the commando leaders and arranged a plan for umzulek's benefit. because he knew that some of umzulek's men were undoubtedly watching us, we made a feint of starting for home late that afternoon. we camped in the valley of heaven, as though intending to return to rietvlei. the kaffirs at the kraal near which we camped were told that we expected to reach the valley of reeds in about three days, and they undoubtedly passed the information on to umzulek's scouts. not long after midnight we were in the saddle and on our way to umzulek's kraal. tuys knows swaziland as well as he knows the transvaal, and we went by a route that did not take us near either zombode or lebombo. when umzulek's warriors came out of their kraals at stegla shortly after dawn they rubbed their eyes in amazement to see us drawn up in battle array on two sides of their village. our men were so posted that they could rake the kraals with rifle fire and not one kaffir would be able to escape. there was great activity in the kraals when umzulek's men found out what had happened. in a little while several made attempts to get away in the direction of the hills, sneaking out from the unguarded sides of the kraals. they did not get far. burghers on fleet ponies turned them back, and there were no further attempts to escape. tuys knows how to handle natives. he knows that they are more terrified when they do not know what is going to happen than they are of an actual calamity. for that reason he made no move to declare himself. all that umzulek's warriors knew was that they were surrounded by a band of determined white horsemen with rifles ready for action. i saw hundreds watching us with apprehension, and there was almost a panic in the village. finally some indunas came forward, waving their shields and making all sorts of peaceful overtures. tuys was rough with them. he commanded that umzulek be brought before him without delay and said that his men would open fire within a few minutes if he did not come. the indunas fled into the main kraal with the orders, and umzulek came out with almost unseemly haste. he was a masterful-looking savage. much like buno in the face, he was not so tall, but seemed stouter. his body was huge, his legs massive, and his fine head and bulging forehead showed the cunning and brains for which he was noted. except for a short assegai, umzulek was unarmed and wore nothing, not even a loin-cloth or plumes. he came directly to tuys and threw up his hands in salute. there was nothing cringing about him, in spite of the fact that he was trapped. "nkoos, you have sent for me?" he asked, his voice sonorous and heavy. i noticed that he looked into tuys's eyes without flinching. he was not even nervous. "i sent for you yesterday," tuys answered slowly and severely, "and you sent back the foolish word that you were sick. you disobeyed my orders. for that your life is forfeited! shall i give the word that means death, or will you listen and obey the order i now give?" umzulek showed no fear. he met tuys's eyes without a tremor. "nkoos, white brother of my brother, buno," he replied after a moment, "do your will! i am not afraid of death. if i live, however, i shall obey your orders." tuys then became very angry and talked to umzulek as roughly as he could. in spite of this, the savage chief never lowered his eyes, although he promised obedience. tuys ended by telling him what he must do to avoid trouble in the future. previously he had informed him of the arrangement by which swaziland was to be governed. "you will remain here at your kraal from now on," tuys told him, "and shall never go to lebombo or zombode without my permission. you must not concern yourself with the government of your country and must keep peace here in your own district. if i hear that you have broken your promise in the slightest degree, i shall come with a great army and kill you and all your people!" umzulek admitted that he understood this plain speaking, and the interview ended with his curt dismissal. even then, beaten as he was, he returned to his kraal with his head up and dignity unruffled. i had a feeling that he would keep his word, and he did until years later, when tuys sent for him to assist in saving the throne for sebuza, who, by the way, was his nephew. the return trip to rietvlei was made by easy stages. our horses were pretty tired and they were allowed to rest as much as possible. there was a general feeling of relief among the burghers, although some of the younger ones did not hesitate to regret that there had been no fighting. they expressed the opinion that it would have taught the swazis a lesson they would long remember if an impi or two had been wiped out. tuys made one significant remark to me as we came in sight of rietvlei. "with labotsibeni on the throne for the next twenty years," he said, "i'm afraid that the tribute will cease. oom paul will save two thousand pounds a month and i expect that i won't make so many visits to lebombo. labotsibeni must behave herself, and it looks to me as though i won't have so much business in swaziland as i have had." he was thinking of the wrestling matches with buno and mentally regretting the fact that his big pockets would no longer bulge with gold. however, tuys had done rather well; public report had it that these tussles gave him the start toward his fortune. chapter x war with england--siege of belfast--our boyish impi attacks the british--ghosts defeat us--jafta's friendship--english troopers do the "sporting thing"--umzulek still planning deviltry--death of klaas, our jockey--father sends me away to get an education. as soon as we reached rietvlei my father and tuys closeted themselves in his office. mother told me that there was trouble between the british and boers and that my father had received certain orders from oom paul kruger. none of our little army had left rietvlei when tuys came out of the house and summoned its leaders. "you are all to go to your homes," he said, "and there wait for orders. there is serious trouble with the english and oom paul commands that all stand ready for whatever may come. god grant that this is not war." there seemed to be a divided sentiment about this. some of the leaders, particularly the younger ones, did not appear to dislike the thought of war, but the old men drew long faces and looked very grave. however, they all mounted and before long the last had left. i did not realize then that i would never see them all again. the shadow of war was over the land and many of our troop were later killed. a short time after our return from swaziland word reached my father from president kruger that he was to visit the leading boers of our district and get their opinion regarding the suggested war with england. war was practically inevitable at that time and my father found the sentiment almost overwhelmingly in favor of it. he counselled against fighting england, because he knew of the unlimited resources of the empire and how impossible it would be for us to win. knowing my father's astuteness, the old boers listened to him and were almost won over to peace, but just then word came that war had been declared. immediately the whole country blazed up. every farm and settlement sent its men, all mounted and armed with the best mausers and hunting rifles, and in a trice the transvaal and orange free state were on the war-path. it was our misfortune that the british broke into our part of the transvaal first. when we heard they were coming, we took everything of value and moved to belfast, which had been fortified and where we were prepared to stand a siege. i shall never forget the excitement of those days. my mother was in delicate condition and the whole thing was a terrible hardship for her. for me, and for the rest of us boys, it was a great and glorious lark! the air was filled with stories of battles, and before long streams of wounded men were sent from our field forces to the improvised hospitals in belfast. we boys used to watch these caravans with intense interest and would run errands for the wounded and bring them presents. these farmer-soldiers were our heroes, and we were proud of the saying, "for each boer, five englishmen," this being the ratio our fighters claimed was about right. however, it was not long before we began to find the british could not be stopped and one morning, late in , belfast was besieged by forces under general paul carew. we suffered many hardships and i soon realized that war was a grim and earnest business. my mother would pray continually that our peril in belfast be ended either by victory of our troops or their speedy surrender to the british. she made the vow that her unborn child should bear the name of the victorious general, and when, on the eve of the triumphant entry of the british into belfast, a little daughter was born, she was given the name of paul carew, with the prefix "impi," which, in addition to meaning a regiment, is also the zulu word for war. my sister, impi, certainly lives up to her name. determination and fighting spirit are her chief characteristics, and she is equally at home in handling wild horses or obstinate kaffirs. in addition, she is one of the best rifle shots in the transvaal and can beat any one of her sex when it comes to a race on foot. general carew constituted belfast a british base, and the countryside was raided and ravaged by the troops making it their headquarters. hardly a farm escaped, and even to-day there are ruins that recall those dark days. but two rooms of our home in belfast were habitable and it was in these that we lived. the main british camp was directly in front of our house, and the situation galled me. i hated the british for driving us out of rietvlei and for ruining our home, and before long i declared war on them on my own account. what happened is a good example of the way the english treated us. i gathered all the boys of the town, that is, the dozen white boys, and drilled them as my impi. sibijaan, being black, was not allowed to take part in our war. i considered it beneath me to let him fight with me against other whites. we armed ourselves with stones and sticks and late at night made a concerted attack on the british headquarters, which had been established in the ruins of the local hotel. we smashed all the windows, and the officers and orderlies came tumbling out in great haste. the sentries did not fire on us, but there was a general rush in our direction which resulted in our capture. when we were brought before general carew, he asked what we thought we were doing. none of us could talk english and the questioning was done through an interpreter. i informed him that we were loyal boers and had declared war on the english. general carew looked at me very severely and asked me if i was ready to be shot for a treacherous attack after the town had surrendered. this was a new thought for me, but i stood to my guns and defied him. however, i did not like the idea of being buried in the local cemetery where we boys had seen so many british and boer soldiers already put away. after a few more questions, all of them with the most serious face and a gravity that could mean nothing but evil for us, the general delivered sentence. it was that we were to be taken to the improvised mess-room and fed all the jam, biscuits, tea, and sugar we could eat! i remember that i was very proud to be given a tin of jam for myself alone. my sister, ellen, had been one of our attacking party and she shared equally in the spoils of our captivity. but this treatment did not pacify us. next night we made another attack, and this time we were really punished. we were captured and tied to the veranda posts of some houses nearby. now this would not have been bad, if we had not been superstitious. during the days following the victorious entry of general carew into belfast, we boys had been intensely interested in a number of wagons loaded with the bodies of british soldiers. these wagons were driven down the main street and the bodies buried in huge graves, oftentimes eight and twelve to a grave, in the local cemetery. the tale was soon started that the ghosts of these soldiers walked about the main street at night. after we had been tied to the veranda posts it suddenly occurred to me that we would most likely see these ghosts, and i mentioned this pleasant thought to my fellow-prisoners. immediately there arose a wailing and weeping; our brave little army cried to be allowed to turn tail and depart to its beds. of course the british did not know what was the matter. ellen, instead of being tied up like the rest of us, had been taken into the mess-room and given more crackers and jam. she came out in a hurry to see what was the matter with us. i told her between gasps of horror, and she ran in to the mess and through the interpreter told the colonel. she said later that he regarded it as a huge joke for a little while, but then, when she became anxious for us, gave orders that we were to be freed. we scurried home with all speed as soon as the hated "tommies" turned us loose. this was the end of our little war against the british. we might fight _them_, but when it came to ghosts we lost our nerve. in spite of stories that have been spread about the boer war, there was always a fine sporting spirit between our people and the british. a good example of this was what happened to one of my older brothers. jafta, the mapor king, was concerned in this. my father had prospered greatly in the valley of reeds, and when the war broke out owned immense herds of cattle, sheep, and horses. soon after belfast was taken he decided that it would be a good thing to move his stock into the northern and more remote parts of the transvaal. one of my older brothers, two uncles, and a neighbor undertook the trek with the stock. such a trek is slow and tedious work, and shortly after they started out a galloping outpost of about thirty britishers came upon them. the boers fled. their horses were tired and trail-weary and they had to leave the stock without a chance to obtain a remount from the horses they were driving. they broke for the mountains, and zigzagged about until they came to the kraal of jafta, the mapor king. they hoped to get fresh horses from him, but jafta had already been terrified by the british and feared he would be shot if he helped or sheltered any boers. he explained his position to my brother and begged that the party leave immediately. his horses had already been confiscated and he could give them no remounts. but the boers decided to rest awhile and off-saddled their worn horses, who soon found their way to the river bank where they could drink and graze on the tender grass. jafta was very nervous and urged the party to saddle and get away. his anxiety proved justified, for while they were arguing they saw the squadron of british horse coming at a gallop less than a quarter of a mile away. it seems that kaffirs had seen the boers and betrayed them. jafta was in a quandary. the safe thing for him to do was to order his impi to seize the boers and then turn them over to the english. while he was making up his mind one of my uncles ordered his companions to pick up their saddles, bridles, and rifles, and duck into jafta's royal hut. as they were doing this he shouted some instructions to jafta. a moment later the britishers reached the entrance to the kraal. jafta, escorted by his indunas, went to meet them. their officer was impressed with his regal air and recognized him as king of the mapors. they shook hands, and then, through his interpreter, the officer asked about the four boer fugitives. "yes, nkoos, they were here," jafta admitted, "but i was afraid to give them any food or help. they were very tired and their horses were tired also. but they went on." "how long ago was that?" the englishman asked. "when the sun was over there," said jafta, pointing. he indicated a space of about an hour. "well, we must pursue them," said the officer. "but you look tired," suggested the wily jafta, "and your horses are over-taxed. won't you rest a while and have some tswala and refresh yourselves? already it is the hour when there are no shadows (midday) and it is time to sleep." the britisher let himself be lured from the stern path of warlike duty and accepted. the horses were turned loose to graze and drink, and the englishmen partook heartily of tswala and soon dozed off to sleep. the boers, inside the hot hut, could do nothing, so they too went to sleep. it was a funny situation, had it not been so serious. these enemies were peacefully asleep within a few feet of one another. about three o'clock there was a general stirring and every one waked up. the british troopers had never seen the inside of a royal kraal before, and they asked jafta if they might be shown about. the king immediately assented and appointed some of his indunas to act as guides. it was all new and interesting to the englishmen and they were soon about fifty yards away from jafta's hut. this was the chance the boers were waiting for. they slipped out and gathered up the britishers' equipment, including firearms, and stowed it in the hut. a pistol was poked into jafta's belly and he was also put in his "palace." a few moments later the englishmen returned and found themselves facing the boer rifles. they surrendered. everything was well with our party and they could have made their escape, taking as many of the british as they wanted as prisoners. but they knew that the mapor king would have to pay for his duplicity, and thus decided that he must be protected. whereupon they opened a discussion with the commander of the british party. they informed him that they would take all the britishers as prisoners to their own headquarters unless he agreed to the proposition that they made. it was this: first, the english must swear not to give evidence against jafta at their headquarters; second, they must allow the boers to have four fresh horses; third, they must give the boers a certain start before again taking up their pursuit. if the british would agree to these conditions, the boers would call everything square and each party would forget that it had ever met the other. this proposal struck the british as a good sporting chance, so they accepted it. everything was agreed to as demanded. since there was no reason for further hostility for the time being, the boers returned their arms and equipment to the british and both had a merry feast that night, during which they consumed all of jafta's tswala. next morning the boers left at dawn and did not see these britishers for some time. strange as it may appear, these same parties later met in a battle not far from jafta's kraal and one of my uncles was shot. the same british officer was in command of the troops who captured him and saw that he was treated with every consideration, making him feel more like an honored guest than a wounded prisoner-of-war. this officer, by the way, remained in south africa after the war, and he usually visits rietvlei every christmas and is regarded as one of the best friends the o'neil family has. during the boer war, oom tuys was held accountable for the peace of swaziland by both our people and the british. it was contrary to agreements to use kaffirs in the war, and tuys made several trips to zombode, the seat of labotsibeni, to make sure that the swazis were keeping out of the conflict. later i heard him tell my father that he kept both labotsibeni and tzaneen quiet by pointing out to them that a word from him would bring the war to their country. on one of his trips tuys dropped in to see our old friend umzulek and came back with the report that the kaffir chief was minding his own business and obeying orders. however, he made tuys a proposition that showed him to be still willing to make trouble, if it were profitable. "the old rascal suggested that he make a demonstration with all his impis against our borders," my uncle reported. "if he made a great enough showing, he thought, and news of it reached oom paul, our president would be willing to pay him tribute to keep the peace. it seems he has been thinking about buno's monthly gift of two thousand pounds and the gin that went with it. he has a sort of feeling that it is a shame to let this money get out of the family! the crafty beggar only hinted at his scheme at first, but i finally smoked him out and he admitted what was in his mind." "what did you tell him?" my father asked, glancing at tuys keenly. father remembered the days of buno, when ugly rumors used to float out concerning tuys's activities in swaziland. "i told him to go to hell," tuys exclaimed, "or i would come with many rifles and send him there!" inasmuch as umzulek could have no conception of what my uncle meant by "hell", since the swazis have no such place in their daily thought, it is safe to assume that tuys was using a figure of speech. nevertheless, he gave umzulek to understand that it would be unhealthy for him to start a row along the border. we were still living in belfast when the war came to an end. our home at rietvlei was in ruins and it was almost a year before my father was able to get a portion of it rebuilt. however, before returning there we lived for a time in potchefstroom, where my father had interested himself in some gold properties. prospecting was always fascinating to him and he was usually successful in these ventures. his english secretary remained in belfast, safe-guarding his interests there and making frequent visits to the homestead in the valley of reeds. our kaffir farmers and servants had been widely scattered by the war, but soon began to drift back. each told a different tale of his wanderings, and many of these were quite harrowing. a number of our people had escaped to jafta's kraal and not a few had gone into swaziland until the war ended. klaas, our old jockey and one of my dearest playmates, had disappeared during the second year of the war, but one day my father told me that he had returned to rietvlei. father was about to make one of his periodical trips to belfast and the valley of reeds, and he promised to bring klaas back with him to potchefstroom. he drove out to rietvlei from belfast and found klaas very glad to see him. the little fellow was thin and worn-looking, but scrupulously clean. father installed him again as his driver and next day started back for potchefstroom. a mile or so from the old house father got out of the wagon to inspect a plantation. he was about seventy-five yards from the wagon when a threatening thunder-storm broke and a single bolt of lightning killed klaas and both horses! this was a great blow to all of us, because we had come to regard the little black boy with genuine affection. not long after we returned to rietvlei--such a happy homecoming as it was!--my father decided the time had come for me to get an education. many of the old boers frowned upon the thought of sending their sons abroad to be educated, feeling that they would never care to return to the farms their ancestors had founded in the wilderness with such bravery and determination. my father, however, was different. he believed that his sons should be abreast of the times, and he sent me to boarding-school and later to universities in scotland and america, where i received my training as a physician. chapter xi back to rietvlei from harvard--i locate in ermelo--tuys brings news that sebuza is to be crowned king of swaziland--i decide to make a picture record of the coronation--the trek to zombode to get the royal permission--snyman plays ghost and almost gets killed--visit to mbabane, capital of swaziland. soon after my graduation from harvard university i returned to the transvaal. i had been away for years and it was good to get back to the valley of reeds. years in scotland and the united states had left their stamp on me, and my family and old friends chaffed me about being an "outlander," telling me that now i was an american. i may have had some of the externals, such as the clothing i had had made in cambridge, but my heart was still the heart of a boer and i was glad to get back to my own people. father was proud to have a son who was a physician and arranged a reception at rietvlei to which all his friends and acquaintances came. i was the hero of the hour, and it seemed strange when tuys and some of the old men who had known me as a boy called me "mzaan bakoor." i had not heard my native name for years, and it brought back my boyhood and the little playmates of the toy-factory days. sibijaan was a grown man and a fine figure of a savage. he greeted me with effusiveness and saluted me native-fashion as soon as we had shaken hands. father told me that he had been very useful about the house and was well trained. then he told me that sibijaan belonged to me and was to go with me wherever i went. when i spoke of this to my old playmate, he was surprised that i should mention it. "nkoos, what the ou baas says is so," he said. "i have never thought it would be otherwise. when we were children your mother gave you into my charge. now that you are a man and i am a man, again i take up the trust!" this suited me. i realized i would have to have some dependable boys and i knew that sibijaan was faithful, honest, and more intelligent than any kaffir i had ever met. meeting tuys again brought back the several visits we had made to swaziland, and i asked him how things had gone with our friends, the royal family. he said that the old arrangement was still in effect and that umzulek had settled down for good and was behaving himself. "queen labotsibeni is blind now, but she still rules as regent," he said, "and tzaneen is taking good care that no harm comes to her son, sebuza. this young savage is growing into a man and already has gathered about him several impis. he is an insolent cub and will be hard to manage when he becomes king. as the crown prince he is running wild, and it seems he has been impertinent to the british resident at mbabane." tuys then told me that he expected to make a short trip to lebombo and zombode and asked me if i wanted to go along. my father, however, seemed to think i had "better get over that foolishness" and settle down, so i told tuys i would go with him some other time. next came the question where i was to practice medicine. there was a good doctor in belfast, who was a friend of our family, and it was suggested that i join him. this, however, did not please me. i wanted to be "on my own" and make my own career. this delighted my father, and after some discussion we decided that i should locate in ermelo. this was a little town of about fifteen hundred whites and several thousand kaffirs, in the heart of a fine farming and grazing section in the southeast section of the transvaal. it has an elevation of about a mile and is a delightful spot. however, i must admit that the fact that ermelo is only a little more than fifty miles from the border of swaziland finally decided my choice. after a few weeks with my family i started for ermelo. instead of making an attempt to get there by rail, sibijaan, tuys, and i trekked overland and had a most delightful trip. seldom a night but we met with friends of my father, and they always gave a warm welcome to "the o'neil from overseas." it seems that these simple people had wondered over my absence, feeling that i would be too learned to ever want to associate with them again. they were intensely interested in the united states, and many an hour i spent telling them about its wonders. i happened to have pictures of new york among my dunnage, and i dug these out and showed them. naturally, the towering "skyscrapers" were a most wonderful thing to these boers, many of whom had never seen a building of more than two stories. i always remember the remark made by one bearded patriarch when he looked at the photograph of the flatiron building. "this is a modern tower of babel," he said, pointing at the structure with a stubby forefinger. "these americans must be good and religious people or god would throw down such a tower!" when i explained to him that it was built of steel covered with stone and told him that there were many other greater buildings, he was impressed, but not astonished. "if it is god's will, these americans will conquer the world," he concluded. i then told him that war had been forced on america and her armies were even then in france fighting the germans. he knew a good deal about the war and was naturally an enemy of england, which meant that he was friendly to the germans. the fact that america had been forced into the conflict carried great weight with him, however, and i had a feeling that his pro-germanism was much weakened by this knowledge. i quickly found a home in ermelo and settled down to practice medicine. my work there was hard but interesting. its chief delight was the fact that i spent most of my time outdoors. a round of visits soon meant that i would be gone several days, spending most of the time in the saddle. many trips could be made by motor, particularly the periodical ones to the mines, but most of my boer patients lived where motors could not travel. except for the mining companies which had appointed me their resident physician, my patients were all white people. the boers are a hardy lot and hate to admit that they are ill. hence, when i received a call to a boer farm, i always expected the worst and was seldom disappointed. bit by bit my practice increased, and i began to regard ermelo as my permanent home. there were a number of pleasant people there, both english and boers, and we lived a very contented busy life. sibijaan turned out to be a valuable servant and did everything for me that he could. of course i made him head boy about my place, and he kept the other servants in good order and saw that all things went right. oom tuys stayed with me frequently, and his visits were always welcome. he wandered about the transvaal a great deal and was a source of information of all sorts. it was in december, , that he brought me news that interested me deeply. "i have come from zombode," he said, "and there is hell to pay in swaziland. old labotsibeni tells me that tzaneen and her right-hand man, lochien, are plotting to have sebuza made king and are making preparations for his coronation. lomwazi, who is a son of the old queen and acts for her, tells me that labotsibeni will not give up the throne. she will have to die if she does. as you know, it is the swazi custom to sacrifice any ruler who loses the throne, and the old girl doesn't want to be killed. "it looks to me as if there is going to be trouble. i talked to lomwazi and his mother and told them it was the agreement that she was to remain regent until sebuza came of age, and that the boers and british both would protect her when the young man was made king. this seemed to reassure them, but i don't think labotsibeni and her crowd want to lose control. yes, owen, i think there is going to be trouble in swaziland." we talked the matter over, and i agreed with him that things were going to happen soon in swaziland. the swazis had been at peace too long a time for such a warlike nation and it would not take much to start a war of some sort. the fact that prince sebuza was to be made king stood out above everything else, and i made up my mind to see the ceremonies. about this time i had become interested in the cinematograph. moving-pictures were a hobby of mine, and it suddenly occurred to me that it would be a fine thing from an historic and educational standpoint to take some reels of sebuza's coronation. tuys told me that this would probably be the last affair of its kind, and it seemed to me that a cinematograph record of it would be most valuable and instructive. i suggested this to oom tuys, and he agreed with me. "but you'd better arrange to take the pictures," he cautioned me. "it would be just a waste of time to rush into swaziland with a camera and take a chance. we don't know when the coronation is going to take place, and what's more, we don't know that the swazis would stand for your taking pictures of it. the witch-doctors might tell them that you were putting some sort of a curse on them, and then where would you be?" this put another light on the matter, and tuys finally advised me to see labotsibeni and get her permission to film the ceremonies when sebuza was made king. i was afraid that i might not be able to get what i wanted from labotsibeni, so i asked tuys to help me. this he agreed to do, arranging to meet me in zombode. this meant quite a trip for him, because the british objected to his going into swaziland, owing to certain activities there in the past, and he had to go in through portuguese territory. i have forgotten what reasons the government had for not wanting tuys to visit swaziland, but the officials evidently had not forgotten--britishers seldom do, particularly when the matter affects one of their principalities. so it was arranged that tuys should slip into swaziland through komatipoort, a town on the border between portuguese east africa and labotsibeni's country. i was to leave as soon as i could, and we would meet at zombode and there transact our business with lomwazi and the old queen. i arranged for another doctor to handle my patients while i was away and then set about making preparations for the trip. news of my venture soon got about, and i was deluged with requests to take friends along. if i had given in to them all, i would have invaded swaziland with an impi. as it was, i took laurie snyman, a cousin of mine, and joel biddy, the accountant of the little bank in ermelo. snyman had some years before been postmaster at mbabane, the government seat of swaziland, while biddy had been a useful friend on many occasions. we had some interesting adventures on the trip, but suffered intensely from the weather. heavy storms dogged us all the way and made life miserable. we traveled light, but the rains prevented us making good time. our outfit consisted of a wagonette, drawn by mules, in which we had intended to ride. sibijaan was our cook and general handy man, while the mules and wagonette were in charge of tuis, a half-breed basuto bushman. the rains made the roads so heavy that it was all the mules could do to drag the wagonette. hence we had to walk practically the entire way, and it was "foot-slogging" of the hardest. tuis was a very obstinate kaffir and made a nuisance of himself on every opportunity. if we had not needed him so badly, i would have either killed him or sent him back. one of the features of the trip was the fact that both sibijaan and tuis were constantly ill. that is, they said they were. the only medicine which seemed to help them was gin, and they would frequently feign illness to get some. now and then i would refuse, and then tuis would give an exhibition of sulking that was wonderful. of course it is strictly against the law to give alcohol to kaffirs in the transvaal, but the fact that it was administered as "muti," or medicine, made the act less criminal. those boys of mine, however, needed "muti" frequently, but the rain was a sort of justification, for i know that we white men were only able to keep going by using it. on the second day out of ermelo we ran into the scottish section of our country. the little villages there have such names as lochiel and new scotland, and the people are quite as scottish as these names. in fact, we were able to get some oat cakes at one of the farm-houses. these would have been rusks, had the people been boers. although our trek had been miserable enough so far, we did not have any real trouble until we reached the masuto river. it was swollen by the heavy rains and the ford was washed out. instead of the usual clear rivulet, it had become a raging torrent of muddy water. we had to cross it or go back, so we made camp on its bank and held a council of war. all our blankets and supplies were soaked through, and a fire could not be started. we were just about as uncomfortable as we could be. just when we were beginning to despair, a scotch civil engineer showed up. he was building a bridge over the masuto, his entire working force consisting of kaffirs. he proved a cheerful person and made light of our troubles. this was well enough for him, since he had a good camp a short distance away, while we were marooned on a desert of dampness. i suggested to him that we would appreciate some hot tea or coffee, but he carefully refrained from inviting us to his camp to have some. instead, he told us that we could get what we wanted from oom van der merwe, who had a farm not far distant. the scotch are a careful and canny people! we trudged over to the boer farm and received a cordial welcome. they received us with open arms and insisted that we remain there for a few days, or at least until the rain stopped. this we could not do, since i had made the zombode appointment with tuys and did not want him to have to wait so long that he would give us up and leave swaziland. the farmer's womenfolk gave us all the hot coffee we would drink, and then supplied us with bread, butter, milk, and the hind quarter of a sheep. we returned to our thoroughly soaked camp very reluctantly and passed a most miserable night. next morning we tackled the problem of getting across the masuto, which had risen further during the night. the scotch engineer came to our assistance with good advice, and this is all he would have offered had i not discovered that he had several cables stretched across the river. after much argument he agreed to let us use one of the cables to get the wagonette and supplies across. this was done, although with great difficulty. knowing we would have to swim for it, we white men had put our clothes in the wagonette. the kaffir boys did not wear enough to matter. the scotchman consoled us by telling us that we were a ludicrous sight, and we must have been! there we stood, naked, cold, and disgusted, our entire possessions on the far bank and facing the prospect of swimming the turbulent river, driving the mules across at the same time. however, it had to be done, so we plunged in. the current was strong and we crawled ashore a full half mile below the wagonette. true to his bastard breed, one of the mules turned back in midstream and proceeded calmly to the take-off bank of the river. we had to swim back and get him, but it was adding insult to injury when he tried to run away and we had to chase him through the long grass and undergrowth of the river's edge. finally we captured the brute and then swam the river for the third time as his watchful escort. we were dead tired when we reached the wagonette and faced the stiff climb to the top of a little mountain. the road was in the worst possible condition, so we decided to camp for a day or two until the weather became better. as things were, we could not have gone on, anyway. as soon as camp was pitched, we looked about a bit and discovered the ruins of an old boer farm-house a little way up the river. there was a trickle of smoke coming out of the chimney and this encouraged us to visit the place as soon as possible. the thought of fire was heartening; it meant hot things to drink and possibly warm food. when i came close to it i saw that there were two rooms, badly roofed over, but the blackened walls showed that the old house had been quite an imposing building. my knock was answered by a young boer with wild, hunted eyes. he looked us over as we stood there in the pouring rain, and a moment later smiled graciously and invited us in. when the door closed he ceremoniously extended his hand and we shook hands all around. "strangers seldom come during the storms," he said, "and i was surprised to hear your knock. i was cooking some coffee in the back room and now i shall add enough for all of us." this was a welcome thought to us, and in a little while our drooping spirits were revived by the hot drink. then we cooked the food we had brought with us and had a merry party. it seems the young fellow was quite bucked up over having visitors and he did well by the gin we had brought with us. but still it rained outside! it came down as it only can in the transvaal, and that means a steady, relentless downpour which looked as though it would last for days. we decided to make ourselves as comfortable as possible, and our host insisted that we take over his house. he was a very pleasant fellow and before long we were good friends. it seems that the old house had been the home of his parents and grandparents. it was a pioneer homestead and had been burned by the british during the boer war. both his parents had died there and the place had never been rebuilt. he had been born in the room in which we rested and he told us that he hoped some day to rebuild and make his thousands of acres profitable. bit by bit we got the story of the place from him. it had been destroyed in retaliation for some act of treachery, for which, he assured us, his parents were not responsible. i asked him if he did not get lonesome living there by himself and suggested that he ought to get a wife to keep him company. my question opened up a queer side of his character, and then we understood the hunted look in his eyes. "by day," he said slowly, "i don't mind being here alone. in good weather people cross the river and come to me to buy things. i have a store, you know, and sometimes as many as five or six come each week." this was news to us. we did not see any evidence of a store, but this probably explained the small boxes and bundles in the back room. "it is the night that is terrible," he went on, lowering his voice as though afraid of being overheard. "those who died here come back and look into the windows and cry out with awful voices. they cannot rest, and must come back to this place where they were killed. some of them are our people and others the british, and sometimes they fight the battle over again!" for a moment i thought he was guying us, but a glance at his eyes told me that he was in deadly earnest. snyman and biddy caught his spirit and egged him on to tell more ghost stories. now the ignorant boer is very superstitious, so that it was not long before we had all kinds of ghosts loose about the place. the young boer took the stories seriously, and those two rascals soon had him quite terrified. a sudden burst of thunder made him jump as though he had been shot. well, we told ghost stories and tales of other supernatural visitations for some time. then, the rain letting up a bit, we went back to our camp, to find that sibijaan had finally succeeded in getting a fairly decent fire going. before leaving we had bought the store out. it only contained quantities of "flag" cigarettes, coffee, and yellow sugar, but we took all we could get. the boer assured us that he had sent to ermelo for a large stock of goods which would be at our disposal as soon as the roads allowed it to be brought in. late that afternoon it looked as though the stormy weather was breaking away, and this cheered us up. we planned to start at dawn next morning and make up for lost time by forced marches. shortly after dark snyman announced that he was going to visit the young boer again. he went out, leaving biddy and me smoking our pipes in the tent. snyman had been gone for about half an hour when the stillness of the night was shattered by a succession of rifle shots. they came from the direction of the ruined house. we could hear some one shouting, also, and each outburst was followed by more shots. with one motion i snuffed our candle and dived to the wet floor of the tent. biddy was almost as quick, and swore softly when his face hit my heels. we neither of us could imagine what was taking place, but our training taught us that the ground was the safest place when people began shooting wildly. we had hardly got our breath when snyman dashed into the tent, falling over us and almost pulling it down. he had been running hard and was fairly gasping for breath. presently he recovered sufficiently to loose a volley of profanity in dutch and english. when he calmed down a little--the shooting had stopped by this time--we asked him what all the shooting was about and why he had returned in such haste. "why, that poor ignorant fool thought he could shoot a ghost!" he said, beginning to laugh. "i went to see if there were any ghosts around his old house, and when i didn't find any, i felt that he ought not to be disappointed, so i played ghost for him. i sneaked about the house and hid in the old ruins, making all sorts of creepy noises, i must have scared him until he went crazy. "i was just beginning to enjoy myself when his light went out. then i thought i had scared him off the map. but i was wrong, very wrong! he must have opened the door quietly, for when i started out of the ruins he opened up with his mauser. i dropped flat, but it seemed to me that a volley of bullets crawled down my back. a moment later he started shooting in another direction, and then i got up and ran. i'll bet the springbok doesn't live that could have caught me!" so this was the explanation of the sudden firing. we examined snyman and found that two bullets had gone through his coat, showing that even in his fear the young fellow had shot like a true boer. snyman did not seem much upset over being shot at, but was quite indignant at the fact that the "ghost hunter" had used a rifle. "it just shows the ignorance of these back-country boers," he said, ruefully examining his torn coat. "this damned fool spends his nights quaking because he thinks his old farm is full of ghosts, and then he takes down the ancestral rifle and goes out and tries to kill them. as though he could shoot a ghost!" before dawn the next morning the young boer arrived at our camp. while he was taking coffee with us he related his adventure of the night before. he seemed to have no suspicion of snyman, who must have done a wonderful job. according to his story a whole battalion of british ghosts had attacked his stronghold. he described their wailing and threatening cries, and then told how he had finally driven them off with his father's rifle. he was so earnest and pathetic that we all felt sorry for him. his ignorance was extraordinary, even when his isolation was considered. we were sorry to leave him, and i remember looking back as we climbed the hill road to see him looking wistfully after us. the roads were so bad that we had to walk, and it was not until the third day that we reached mbabane, the official capital of swaziland. this is about fifteen miles over the border, and the village is on the top of a low mountain. mbabane is the new capital of swaziland and was founded in . the old capital, bremersdorp, was destroyed by our people during the boer war. the long slopes leading up to the village are nearly all covered with plantations, which have been laid out by robert l. dickson, head of the swaziland trading company. the settlement is a most picturesque and charming place, and there are a number of pleasant english people dwelling there. these white families live very well, and i can safely say that mbabane is the most delightful place in that whole section of the transvaal. mr. dickson is a remarkable character who has lived in south africa practically all his life. he is now about sixty-five years old, and no visit to mbabane is complete without at least one cup of tea with him and his wife. mrs. dickson is a lovable old lady whose chief worries seem to consist of guarding her vegetable plantation and finding her glasses. the morning we called on mr. dickson, she came in and asked if he had seen those errant glasses. his eyes twinkled when he answered, "no, my dear, but i'm sure you'll find them in the cabbage patch!" she had been there during the morning and his guess was correct, for one of the black boys found the glasses draped over a young and hopeful cabbage. of course mr. dickson invited us to dinner, and this led to a typical and amusing incident. mrs. dickson ordered her cook to prepare some chickens for the meal, and the cook sent some of the swazi servants to get the fowls. now a friend of mine, john pythian, engineer at the tin mines nearby, lived next door to the dicksons. he was a chicken fancier and had some very fine birds. as luck or indolence would have it, mrs. dickson's servants caught some of his chickens instead of her own. pythian's servant reported this to him--he was still in bed at the time--and he instructed his boy to tell mrs. dickson's swazis to return the chickens. stronger in courage than judgment, the boy attacked the enemy and there was a battle. it was short, however, because mrs. dickson heard the row and chased pythian's boy away. by the time he reported to his master, the chickens were slain. pythian then sent his boy to get the native police, and these soon arrived. mrs. dickson protested and argued that her boys were innocent, but about this time, mr. honey, british royal commissioner for swaziland, came on the scene in all his majesty. he held an impromptu court and heard both sides of the case. after deliberation, in which we all tried to assist him, he delivered his verdict. "from the evidence i judge that mrs. dickson's boys are innocent in that they did not realize they were killing mr. pythian's chickens," he said. "however, the chickens have been killed on the order of mrs. dickson, so i think the only thing to do is to arrest mrs. dickson!" whereupon mrs. dickson became indignant and demanded that the commissioner carry out his sentence. "if he does," she said threateningly, "i can guarantee that the high commissioner for swaziland is going to feel very low in his mind before i invite him to dinner again!" thus the chicken-stealing ended in a joke, and pythian was one of the gayest at dinner that night. he remarked, however, that it was no wonder that the roast chicken was so choice, since the birds had been imported all the way from some place in india! during the meal i sat next to the commissioner and brought up the question of the crowning of the new swazi king. i wanted to find out what the government thought about it before i made final arrangements at zombode. "there seems to be a difference of opinion regarding this pup, sebuza," he said. "it looks as though there might be a row either before or soon after he is made king. of course he is the heir to the job, so there can be no good reason for keeping him out. however, labotsibeni has been a steady old girl and has kept fairly good order around zombode, and it's a shame we can't keep her. but she's over one hundred years old, and now lomwazi seems to be fairly running swaziland. sebuza will have to be king some day, but it will be good policy to maintain present conditions as long as possible. we have peace now, and i'd dislike to see anything happen that might start a war." i could see that the commissioner was none too anxious to have sebuza take over the throne. this suited me, for i knew that it would be some time before i was equipped with the right outfit to take the pictures i was after. if sebuza's coronation could be put off for a year, it would suit me even better. all the white residents of mbabane treated us with the greatest kindness and hospitality. they could not do too much for us. there are a number of interesting things about the settlement. it is essentially a little english village set down in the heart of the most primitive and savage principality of the empire. like all the rest of the english who exile themselves from home, these people had brought a little bit of the motherland with them. the jail, or "gaol," as they insist on writing it, is an institution in mbabane, but i must say there is not much punishment about it. the prisoners wear the convict garb, but you meet them all over the village. they are usually working in the gardens, and i have often run across them three and four miles from their penitential abode. no prisoner has ever been known to escape; perhaps the regular food has something to do with this. there are a number of interesting characters who live in mbabane year in and year out. one of these is allister miller, a man of remarkable personality, energy, and business ability. he has several immense ranches and owns more than fifty thousand head of fine cattle. his bulls have been imported from all over the world and his cattle have made him a very rich man. swaziland is an ideal stock-raising country and it is estimated that the swazis themselves own more than three hundred thousand head of cattle. probably the most interesting character in mbabane is known to every one as "matt." he is an accountant by profession. his nose has made him famous, and i am sure there is not another like it in the whole world. it is immense in size and has all the vivid tints of the "rum-nose" that distinguishes the confirmed tippler. all strangers are advised to see matt's nose or count their visit to mbabane a rank failure. there are a number of stories about him, one of the best being about his experience as an inmate of the gaol. it seems that he was accountant for a trading company and had made a mess of its books. money was missing and he could not account for it. although it was felt that he had not taken it, yet he was responsible and was sentenced to gaol for six months. now the warden of the gaol trusted matt and put him to work on the books. in addition, he used to loan matt to do little jobs of carpentering and painting at houses in the village. this led to trouble. the little tin shanty, by courtesy "the hotel," was much like some of the saloons in the "cow towns" of the old west in the united states. ranchers, traders, and adventurers would congregate there and tell stories while they drank gin, whiskey, and combinations of the same. matt was in the habit of passing the "hotel" each evening on his return to the gaol, and soon the roisterers began inviting him in to have a drink or two. one night there was a particularly joyous party, and matt drank so much that he forgot to return to the gaol on time. it was midnight before he got there, and the jailer had already gone to bed. matt went to his house and woke him, and this annoyed the official very much. so much so, in fact, that he refused to get up and let matt into the gaol. matt was reduced to the ignominy of returning to the hotel and bunking there. next morning he made a charge against the jailer for not allowing him to serve out his sentence! commissioner honey discharged him and reprimanded the jailer for neglect of duty. some years before snyman had been postmaster at mbabane and had made many friends, with the result that he had a most enjoyable visit. the morning we left to continue our trek to zombode he was approached by manaan, an old swazi chief, who wanted to shake hands with him. manaan was a typical kaffir, and snyman told me a story about him which well illustrates the characteristics of the breed. "when i was at the post-office here," snyman said, "manaan and some of his sons went to the transvaal to work in the gold mines. according to the law, their money was deposited for them in the savings-bank at johannesburg, and the whole amount was put in the name of the old chief. i was still postmaster when manaan and his sons returned to swaziland. "one morning i was very busy when i saw manaan standing at the door. of course he would not enter until i spoke to him. i grunted at the old boy and he came in, with the usual 'nkoos!' and his hands flung up. he stood at the counter for a while, waiting for me to speak to him. "finally i asked, 'ou funaan?' which means 'what do you want?' "'ou funa mali!' he answered, meaning 'i want some money.' "then the old boy walked over to the corner of the room and sat down. from the top of his majuba, or loin-cloth, he produced a little bundle wrapped in an abundance of dirty rags and tied with some leather thongs. then he knelt down, as is the custom of the swazis, and proceeded to spread out the contents of the bundle. "when he unwrapped the outer cover there was another and yet another, the last covering being the hide of some small animal. after this was undone there was a paper wrapping, and inside this was his savings account deposit book! this he presented to me with pride. "'ou shiai intzinga; ou funa mali,' he said, which meant 'telegraph to the place where this money is deposited; i want to draw it.' "'lunglli,' i replied; 'wati nalie e'lali bapa ou buia mfigo uti zouk mali,' which meant, 'when the sun is over there come back and i will give you the money.' "i thought i would get a reply by sunset, and manaan arrived promptly after i had heard from johannesburg. he entered on my recognition, stacked his knob-kerrie, shield, and assegai in the corner, and came up to the counter. "i counted out the money to him. there were twenty-four pounds, and ten shillings for interest. this i had to explain to him, and when he understood that it was a gift he spent the next ten minutes in praising the white men. he was so accustomed to being taxed and paying for everything that to get these extra ten shillings was a shock. "manaan then went over to his corner, knelt down, and counted the money over six or seven times. he would take it up, examine it, and put it down again and again. he seemed fascinated by the sovereigns. finally he gathered it up and walked over to the counter. piling it up in front of me, he said: "'e'musla implea mene bonela e'begga panzi!' which means 'very nice indeed! i have had a look at it; it is wonderful! now please put it away again!' "i felt like a fool. i had cancelled his account, and now the old nuisance wanted to re-open it and put his money in the bank again. but of course i did it. all manaan wanted was to see and feel his money, so that he would be sure it was still there!" chapter xii i meet labotsibeni again--flattering a savage queen--explaining the "little black magic box"--curing rheumatism with tooth-paste, vaseline, and hair oil--women as currency--gin, gold, and cows pay for the picture rights--the "flu" strikes--jennie, the "blaau app", and the peacocks' tails. from mbabane it is only a short distance to the top of the mountain from which the descent is made into ezulweni, the beautiful valley of heaven. as we reached the top i pointed out sheba's breasts and the place of execution to my companions. these peaks could be seen far off to the right, where the sun picked them out in the early morning mist. coming down the mountain was hard work, the grade being one in four at many places. we walked, because it would only have made it harder for the mules if we had kept our seats in the wagonette. at the bottom of the steep trail stands the place of harry niles, an old-time trader who has settled down there. he has a picturesque little home and has surrounded the house with banana trees, papayas, and semi-tropical fruits. niles is a charming old man who retired from active business to live out his remaining years in this garden spot. he has no interest in outside affairs and lives an ideal existence, if one likes that sort of thing. his likes and dislikes are quickly expressed, and this is probably one of the reasons that make him contented with his life of isolation. if he likes you, however, he can be more hospitable than any one i know. he will feed you with the most delicious salads, fresh meat, and other delicacies, and there is always something rare to drink. his salads are famous, so that his few friends in mbabane often make the hard trek to his little home to share one of them. coming into the valley of heaven from mbabane, instead of from rietvlei, made it a much shorter distance to zombode. we wanted to get there as soon as possible, since we had already been delayed by the wretched weather, so we only had a drink with niles and then pushed on. he told me that he had heard that the swazis were getting ready to acknowledge sebuza as king, but he had no definite information about it. "what's more," he added, "i don't give a damn! just so long as these royal niggers keep out of my way i'll keep out of theirs. they know better than to bother me, and it makes no difference to me who is king!" shortly before we came in sight of zombode, oom tuys came riding down the trail. a swazi runner had brought word that we were coming, and my uncle had come out to meet me. i was very glad to see him and he was as cheerful as ever. he told me that he had had no difficulty in getting into swaziland, as he had come in through komatipoort, but he understood that word had gone to mbabane that he was at zombode and he wanted to cut his stay as short as possible. "it is a shame that the great british empire should hound one poor lone boer trader," he said, his eyes twinkling, "and i feel very much afraid. i hate to disturb the peace of mind of the high commissioner, so i don't want to stay here any longer than necessary." then he began to plan with me how to get our business over as quickly as possible. i had not been to swaziland since my youth, and things were different now. instead of our being met by a welcoming party of indunas, only a few curious savages and a horde of children came out to watch us arrive. the former proud formality of the royal kraal seemed lacking, and when i asked tuys about it he explained that since queen labotsibeni had become blind "the old customs had gone to seed." there was still one formality about seeing her, however. this consisted of announcing your presence by sending her a bottle of gin and then waiting until she sent for you. tuys explained to me that the old queen was terribly vain and desired, above all things, to be flattered. she liked to pretend that she could still see, and tuys warned me under no circumstances to admit that i thought she could not. "you want to look out for lomwazi, my boy," he added. "he has more brains than all the rest put together and is a very wily devil. he never leaves the side of the old queen, and she can't say a word that he doesn't hear. look out for him!" he also advised me to keep my eye on debeseembie, a brother of lomwazi and the favorite son of the old queen. debeseembie was another faithful watchdog of the royal hut and was always somewhere around. this was the first time i had seen labotsibeni since i was a little boy, hence i was keenly interested in her apart from the fact that i hoped to obtain her permission to take pictures of sebuza's coronation. it is well to observe here that i use the word "coronation" for lack of a better term. the swazi king wears no crown, and i suppose the right but awkward phrase would be to speak of sebuza's "induction as king." lomwazi came out to meet us as we entered the royal kraal and readily agreed to convey the gin-present to his royal mistress. when i slipped him a bottle for himself, his haughty expression immediately became one of joy. a little gin goes a long way with the swazis. in a very short time he returned and said that the queen would see us. in addition to the present sent ahead when an interview is desired with the queen, it is also proper etiquette to leave a present when the interview is over. knowing this, i took along a present--that is, another bottle of gin. now the royal kraal at zombode was built with a little kraal inside the main one, and in the middle of that was labotsibeni's reception hall or audience chamber. this was the most unusual building in swaziland. it had brick walls about four feet high and was about ten by fifteen feet in size. the arched grass roof was about head high in the middle, but one had to stoop low to enter, because the three openings were only the height of the brick wall. no one has ever explained how these bricks came to zombode. there are no bricks in swaziland and it struck me as extraordinary that i should see them there. lomwazi led us to the reception hut and we waited for him to announce us. i could see labotsibeni lying on a mat in the center of the floor with a number of her women and warriors about her. she seemed very fat and huge, and very very old. "nkosikaas! all powerful queen of swaziland," lomwazi chanted. "oom tuys and mzaan bakoor, great white indunas, have come to see you. they bring presents and would be overjoyed forever if you would look upon them and accept their great tribute!" some of this was true, but all of it was the proper sort of thing at zombode. labotsibeni listened intently, and when her vizier finished she spoke in her old cracked voice: "tell my white sons that i am proud to welcome them to swaziland and will grant them an audience." thereupon we entered the hut. there were at least a dozen maids-of-honor attending the old queen, and several of these spread mats for us to sit on. some of these women were working on freshly tanned hides from which they were fashioning skirts, and the odor of the skins tainted the air of the hut. i am accustomed to this smell and do not find it unpleasant, but both snyman and biddy soon had all of it they could stand. the old queen lay on her stomach with her head propped up by her hands. within easy reach was a pile of leaves, and at intervals she would take one of these, wipe her lips and fingers with it, and thrust it through the open doorway. her hands were small and beautifully shaped and her nails were spotlessly clean and perfectly manicured. later i learned that her maids spent hours taking care of her hands, their only tools for manicuring the royal nails being bits of broken bottle-glass. remembering tuys's warning, i complimented her on her looks, beautiful hands, and the cleanliness of her hut and kraal. i told her that her royal abode was an example for all the other native kings of the transvaal and generally explained to her what a superior person she was. she listened intently to my flattery and appreciated it greatly. near her was the bottle of gin we had sent ahead. it was more than half finished and she took a drink while i was delivering my flattering oration. she reached for the bottle and debeseembie assisted her to get the drink by pouring out more than half an earthen mug full of the fiery liquid. with one swallow she gulped it down, and then almost choked. this gave me my cue, and i told her how moderate she was and how refined in her way of drinking gin. "why, nkosikaas, if i were to give jafta, king of the mapors, a bottle of gin," i said, "he wouldn't stop drinking until he had finished it, and then he would soon become drunk. whereas, you, with your royal daintiness and delicacy, drink your gin like a queen!" this thought pleased her much and she thereupon took another drink, which practically emptied the bottle. of course i do not know that she had consumed the first half of that bottle, but she certainly drank enough in our presence to intoxicate any normal person. it was strange, but it did not seem to have much effect on her. when she spoke and drank, i noticed that her teeth were perfect. this, at the age of more than one hundred years, is a great tribute to the swazi custom of cleaning the teeth with charcoal or sand after each meal. there was nothing private about our interview. while we talked indunas came and went and the women were always in the hut. in addition, both lomwazi and debeseembie were on hand all the time. after we had exhausted all our compliments and small talk, tuys broached the subject of permission to take pictures of sebuza's coronation. here we ran against what seemed to be an insuperable obstacle. it was impossible to make either the queen or lomwazi understand what i wanted. they had no conception whatever of what a photograph meant and motion-pictures were entirely beyond their comprehension. both tuys and i tried in every way to make them understand, but it was hopeless. finally i decided that the only thing to do would be to take a picture of lomwazi or the old queen and show lomwazi what i was talking about. i persuaded him to get labotsibeni to allow herself to be carried outside the hut into the sunlight, and there i took a picture of her. then i photographed lomwazi, debeseembie, and a group of others. i explained to them that i would show them the pictures the next day, as i hoped to have them developed and printed by that time. after the picture-taking we went back inside the hut, and then the old queen became more friendly and told me her troubles. it seems she suffered with rheumatism in the shoulders and back. this was due to the fact that her upper body was usually bare and that she laid in the draught between the openings of the hut. when cold, she would cover herself with a magnificent fur rug, but this did not help her rheumatism much. on hearing of her aches and pains, tuys's evil genius gave him an inspiration and he proceeded to get me into a pretty pickle. "nkosikaas, you are in great good luck that we came to see you," he told her. "mzaan bakoor is a great white witch-doctor and makes the muti (medicine) that cures such pains as you have. he will make the muti for you and will cure you!" labotsibeni appeared much cheered by this suggestion. i was not, however. i had no medicines with me and would gladly have kicked tuys for making the offer. shortly after this we left the queen, with the understanding that i was going to make the medicine that would cure her rheumatism and would bring it to her as soon as it was ready. when we got back to our camp i blessed tuys with a real boer outburst of profanity. "why, tuys, we'll make the old lady think that we are the worst sort of fakirs," i told him. "she won't grant me the right to take the pictures when she finds out that we have fooled her. you have made a fine mess of things!" but tuys laughed and laughed and laughed. he thought it was one of the funniest situations he had ever seen. looking back at it, i can see the humor of it, but at that time i did not find it amusing. tuys told me i would have to go through with it and produce medicine that would at least make his word good. so i went to work. all i had with me were some toilet necessities. the "muti" was compounded at length, and this is the way the prescription read: two ounces each of tooth-paste, vaseline, and hair-tonic. these i beat up until they were a loose paste and then placed them in a glass jar bearing a very vivid label. this jar had held my photographic chemicals. with impressive solemnity we returned and presented the muti to the queen. then i explained the treatment. her maids were to take cloth soaked in hot water and apply it to the aching parts until she could stand it no longer. then small portions of the muti were to be thoroughly rubbed in until the pains departed. [illustration: queen labotsibeni, mother of king buno during sebuza's infancy and boyhood, the throne receded to queen labotsibeni, his grandmother. she was blind and more than one hundred years old] [illustration: lomwazi and his council of indunas, or war chiefs] all this impressed labotsibeni, but she insisted that the "great white witch-doctor" apply the treatment. i had to do it--that is, if i wanted to keep her favor. for an hour i massaged the old woman, and when the last of the muti was rubbed in she announced that her pains were gone and promptly fell asleep. the hot cloth, as i had guessed, took the aches out of her shoulders and back and the villainous muti bluffed her into a cure, which was good for the time being at least. it was a fine piece of chicanery for a graduate of two of the greatest medical colleges to have to practice, but it did the trick! next morning we went to the royal hut as soon as we were sent for. the same gin ritual had to be followed, and we found the old queen quite happy and a trifle under the influence of the liquor. the pictures had turned out well, and lomwazi was amazed to see himself in all his barbaric beauty. he is one of the strongest men in swaziland and is very vain concerning his athletic prowess. one of his greatest sports is to wrestle with any one who will stand up to him, and he seldom loses. hence, when he saw himself in the pictures, he felt very proud. immediately he christened the camera "the white man's magic" and told labotsibeni all about it. i watched this talk, and it was pathetic. lomwazi explained as best he could what we had done and then handed his mother the picture of herself, telling her to look at it. she held it close to her eyes, and then said: "the white man's little black box is very wonderful! it must be a good magic or my son would not recommend it so highly." if she had been able to see, she might have remarked that the picture was a remarkably good likeness. it was the only time she was ever photographed, and it seemed a shame that the old queen could not appreciate it. again we brought up the question of permission to take the coronation pictures. i explained that we wanted to do the same with sebuza as we had done with them. this seemed to be all right, and we were getting nearer our goal when lomwazi brought up the question of paying for the royal permission. he knew that the white man was not asking this favor for fun, and it came to him that we ought to be made to pay for it. "nkoos, you have come far to ask this permission," he said. "you have trekked through the rain and sun and it has cost you time and money to get here. you would not have done this if the queen's permission was not of great value to you, would you?" i had to admit that i was not there entirely for my health, but minimized the importance of the pictures to myself personally. "these pictures will show the glory of swaziland to the whole world," i protested. "i shall carry them over the great waters to all the countries and there show the people what a wonderful land this is. i will show the english, the boers, and all others that sebuza is a real king. i will show the entire world that the son of buno and the grandson of queen labotsibeni rules one of the greatest nations in the whole of africa!" this oration flattered the vanity of the old queen and practically settled the question. even the primitive swazi values publicity. labotsibeni agreed that we should have the royal permit to take the coronation pictures, and the next question was what i would pay. this was debated for some time. i tried to make lomwazi set a price for the permission, while he, cunning beggar, tried to get me to make an offer. now the swazi has only a few standards of value. he recognizes the fact that women, gold, gin, and cattle have values that are stable everywhere. these values are about as follows: one gold pound buys one cow; five cows buy one woman; one quart of gin buys whatever it will, according to the degree with which it is desired by a swazi. five cows, however, are not a standard price for all women. only the women of the plain people are valued at so low a figure. if the women to be bought are of good family, that is, if they are the daughters of indunas, they are worth more than five cows. i have known princesses to be bought for as much as fifty cows. these were the exception, however, since these girls were the daughters of a high chief. i was prepared to offer cattle, gin, and money, and had brought along a certain amount of the latter. lomwazi, however, started the deal with women as his counters. "how many young women, all maidens, are you prepared to give?" he asked. "it would take too long a time to get the women," i objected, "and i don't wish to trade women for the permission. i am ready to pay a small amount of gin and money, and perhaps some cows, but i cannot get women now." "can't you get ten or fifteen women, nkoos?" labotsibeni asked in her husky voice. "my son, lomwazi, has but few wives and i have so few maids. it would be very agreeable if you could get a small number of women." lomwazi agreed with her in this, and i had to argue for some time to get out of the woman phase of the bargaining. oom tuys, although he knew it was against the law for white men to buy and sell women, pooh-poohed my scruples and told me to turn him loose and he would get me all the women i wanted. however, i remained firm in my refusal and the dickering took another tack. "well then, we'll buy the women we need," lomwazi said. "mzaan bakoor, you will have to give much gin and money, and also cows. the queen has decided that one thousand pounds, one thousand quarts of gin, and one thousand cows shall be the price." the old queen nodded her approval. i had not seen her confer with her vizier and realized that he was acting on his own authority. this showed me his power and how much the old lady trusted him. i then set out to get the price down to where we could really talk business. i had an idea that lomwazi did not know how many there were in a thousand, but had used that figure as a basis for the deal. when i suggested that the thousand figure was preposterous, he reminded me that it was only as many as there were men in the royal impi, thus proving that he actually knew what "one thousand" meant. we talked back and forth, labotsibeni every now and then putting in a word. the upshot of it all was that i agreed to pay five hundred gallons of gin, five hundred gold pounds or sovereigns, and five hundred cows for the right to take the pictures. oom tuys thought i was a fool to give them so much. "that is a tremendous price to pay for a few reels of these savages," he said; "particularly, when there is a good chance that you will not be ready to take the pictures before the coronation takes place. to protect you, i shall make them promise to keep you informed as to when the show will take place, so that you can get on the job." he then pinned down the old queen, lomwazi, and debeseembie to a solemn promise that they would send me word as soon as preparations were under way to make sebuza king. it is a point of honor among the royalty and high chiefs of the swazis that their word is good, and this promise assured me that i would not lose my opportunity. next came the problem of paying for the rights to take the pictures. money i had with me, and i was soon able to buy enough cows to make up the required number. the gin, however, was not so easy. it is against the law to bring gin into swaziland, although the authorities did not object to a few bottles being brought to the old queen. on tuys's advice, i arranged that the five hundred gallons be brought in through komatipoort, from portuguese territory. this confession, i suppose, will make me liable to arrest when i return to the transvaal. to avoid detection, the gallon jugs were each packed in bags of straw surrounded by chaff, being carried over the border by native women. they looked as though they were carrying corn, and the government officials let them pass without suspicion. after making the payment we set out for ermelo. we had been about a fortnight on our trip, and both snyman and biddy were anxious to get back. we took the short-cut by way of mbabane and made good time, the roads being fairly hard. we had one shock, however. when we reached the masuto river we found that the "flu" had visited there during our absence. first the scotch engineer had died and been buried by the boer farmer who had given us food; then the farmer had died and been put away by the young storekeeper with the hunted eyes; and finally he had died and been hidden in a shallow grave near his store by some passing strangers. all three were gone, and this cast a gloom over our party, so that we were glad to leave the spot. the river had gone down and we were able to ford it without much trouble, although snyman had hard luck and fell out of the wagonette into the only deep spot. i remembered that there were several women at the house of the dead farmer, so we went there to pay our respects and offer them any assistance we could. the house was closed and they were all gone, evidently to some of their relatives near ermelo. we were about to return to the wagonette when i thought i saw something stirring near an orange-tree back of the house. it was a "blaau app," or blue monkey, which was tied to the tree. the farmer's women had forgotten the poor beast when they went away and it was pathetically glad to see me. it must have been very hungry, for it had been eating oranges, as the skins strewn on the ground showed. it was the first time i had ever heard of a monkey eating such food. when i cut it loose, the poor thing jumped into my arms and i took it back to the wagonette, where we fed it. biddy and snyman soon started an argument as to what its name should be. the first wanted to call it "labotsibeni," but the other thought "victoria," in memory of a late-lamented queen of england, would be a nice name. so, since it was my monkey, i called her "jennie," whereat the others upbraided me for my lack of inspiration. to add to their iniquity, no sooner did we unpack in ermelo than they started a preposterous yarn about how i had stolen "jennie" from old queen labotsibeni. they said that the monkey was her consolation in old age and that i had decoyed it away, thus breaking the aged queen's heart. this was not the last of "jennie," however. the young doctor who had taken over my practice was carrying on well, and he adopted the monkey. she had the run of the place and was quite contented in her new home until one morning we were awakened by a fearful row. the peacocks next door were screeching at the top of their lungs and their owner, a gruff old englishman, was out on the lawn using very bad language. i ran out--and found "jennie" up a tree with her hands full of the long tail-feathers from several of the proudest peacocks! it took me some time to pacify the englishman, who demanded her life and was calling for his shotgun. finally i smoothed the troubled waters, but "jennie" was not allowed to run loose after that. having obtained the picture rights, i was anxious to have them taken properly. i scouted about, but could not find the equipment or camera-men i needed, so i decided to go to new york and get them. oom tuys agreed to watch things in swaziland and delay the coronation until i could get back. i felt i could trust him to protect me, so i started to make arrangements for my overseas trip. [illustration: the stream that divides the royal from the common ground it was on the banks of this stream that we camped awaiting permission to enter the royal territory. this herd of cattle is being sent to the royal kraal as payment for two princesses whom a chief has purchased as wives] [illustration: type of afrikander cattle these cattle are the unit of value among the swazis and enter into every business transaction] [illustration: swazi women at home fashion is as inflexible in swaziland as anywhere, but the styles do not change] this was not any too easy, because the war had disarranged sailings and there were not many ships touching at cape town. however, i soon saw in the paper that there was a freight steamer in port which was to sail direct to new york. i knew the skipper and telegraphed him that there was an emergency that required my sailing with him. "if you care to take a chance," he wired back, "join the ship as soon as you can." just as i was leaving, tuys reached ermelo with a message from lomwazi that sebuza would be crowned within the next two months. this made me all the more anxious to be gone, and i left tuys with the understanding that he would do his best to delay the coronation until i got back from new york. chapter xiii i start for new york--the religious atmosphere on shipboard--"flu" attacks the javanese--the missionaries refuse to help--sharks as scavengers--the little mother's end--evils of liquor--assembling my party in new york--passage as freight--st. lucia and a little excitement--the thin magistrate--released on bail. when i reached the ship i found the reason for the captain's peculiar telegram. he had more than three thousand javanese on board whom he was taking from the east indies to paramaribo, dutch guiana. from there he would go on to new york. these people were practically deck cargo, since there were no accommodations for them inside the ship. while making arrangements for my cabin, i found that there was a woman who also had to go to new york. although my friend, the captain, objected, i gave up my cabin to her and agreed to share the cabin of an old javanese gentleman who was supposed to be in charge of the others. he was very primitive and ignorant, but spoke dutch fluently, and i learned a great deal about java and the east indies--that is, while he lived, which was not long. the first night out of cape town there were twenty-four of us at the long table in the saloon. all the officers ate with us, and there must have been sixteen or seventeen passengers all told. most important of the passengers were seven american missionaries returning from their godly work in the waste places of africa and the east indies. they were most conspicuous at all times and did everything possible to keep table conversation confined to religious topics. i chummed with a canadian who represented an american agricultural firm in south africa, and we soon became weary of religion at all meals. "there's a place for everything in this world," he said one morning after breakfast, "but i'll be damned if i want to combine kippered herrings with my soul's salvation!" it was not long before both of us were in the bad graces of the missionaries, who did not hesitate to murmur that "it was no wonder that the savages did not heed the call of christ when the white men of their country were so irreligious!" about the third day both the canadian and i had had our fill of the missionaries. we were thinking of asking the captain to allow us to eat at another hour when something happened that changed the whole aspect of the ship. i had gone to my cabin to get some "smokes" when the little old javanese crept in. he answered my cheerful greeting very quietly and then shut the door. i could see that something had hit him and that he wanted to talk. so i sat down on my bunk, wondering what the trouble was. "doctor, there is great trouble among my people," he said in a low voice. "last night eleven of them died, and now they are dying all the time. some terrible plague is among them and they die, they die!" this startled me. i had not noticed that there was anything amiss forward, but then i remembered i had spent practically all my time aft. instantly there came to me the recollection of the sudden deaths of my friends at the ford of the masuto river. i asked him what form the disease seemed to take and he gave me a lot of rambling details, none of which made much sense. he was plainly in a blue funk. i told him to stay where he was and then went to the captain's cabin. "i was just about to send for you, doctor o'neil," he said in greeting. "something has broken loose among those java coolies and they are dying like flies. as you know, we have no doctor on board. will you go and see what's the matter?" then he told me that the first officer had buried more than a dozen the first thing that morning and that he would have to throw another lot overboard by noon. "why, they're dying like flies," he continued, "and we've got to do something to stop it. i shipped a full three thousand of them, but at the rate they're going i won't have a thousand left when i reach paramaribo!" so the captain and i went into the forecastle, taking with us the little javanese head man. it took me about five minutes to find out what was the trouble. "they've got the 'flu' and got it bad," i told the skipper. "it looks as though we are in for a bad time." i was right. here we were in the midst of nearly three thousand ignorant people who had no idea of what was the matter. all they knew was that the man who was sick now would be dead in a short time. they sat about, perfectly quiet, waiting for death. i have never seen such resignation. in the scuppers there were six or seven bodies waiting for the first officer and his burial crew. no one paid any attention to the dead; they just sat about as though stupefied by what was happening. "there's just one thing to do," i told the captain when we got back to his cabin, "and that's to organize a life-saving corps and get to work. let's get all the medicine you have and as much brandy as there is on board and make a fight." he agreed with me, and we overhauled the medical stores, finding little of any use in the present crisis. i have forgotten now what there was, but i remember thinking that we would have to put our trust in god and alcohol. i told the captain how inadequate his medicines were and he threw up his hands. "who'd ever expect to get the 'flu' on board, anyway," he asked, as though it were my fault. "i've got all the medicines i need for the usual ailments and brandy will cure most of the sicknesses that occur on this ship. i'll give you all the brandy, rum, and gin there is, and then you go to it!" he was panic-stricken and practically told me i was to take command of his ship, except that he would take care of the navigation and discipline. i told him the first thing i wanted was assistants, and asked him to summon all the passengers to the saloon. when they were assembled, i got up and told them what it was all about. "these poor devils of javanese are dying like rats in a hole," i said, "and i want volunteers to help me save them. there isn't much we can do, and every time you go among them you stand a chance of catching the 'flu.' they may not be good christians, but they are certainly our fellow men and it is our duty to help them! i want volunteers and want them now. who will join my life-saving crew?" instantly the lady to whom i had given my cabin and my canadian friend volunteered. the others followed one by one, with the prominent exception of the missionaries. i was astounded that they were not among the first, and turned to them. "what's the matter?" i asked, by that time annoyed at their holding back. "don't you want to practice a little practical christianity? are none of you going to give us a hand in this fight?" they did not deign to answer. instead, they looked at their leader, a tall gentleman with lean jowls, and he calmly turned and left the saloon. they trooped after him, and then our captain exploded. "of all the yellow dogs!" he exclaimed. "so that's the sort of people they send out as missionaries! i'd like to throw them all overboard! why, they'll hoodoo my ship! i was brought up to believe a parson put a curse on a ship, and now i know it's so!" well, we pitched in and laid out our fight. it was a seemingly hopeless job. these javanese did not appear to want to help themselves. their only idea was to die, if they were called, and there was never a peep out of any of them. men died and were sent to the sharks, leaving their women mute in their agony; wives and mothers died, and their men never turned a hair; children died in their mother's arms and were cast into the sea without the least outward sign. i mention the sharks, but even now i hate to think of them. they loafed along beside the ship, their great bodies slipping easily through the water, with now and then the flash of a white belly as they turned to meet the falling body. the javanese were dying at a rate of between fifteen and twenty a day, and we soon ran out of weights for their bodies. the sharks increased in number until it seemed as though word had been sent out that there was a "death ship" on the sea. before long they were fighting for the bodies. i watched one such conflict, but one was quite enough. my volunteers and i worked day and night to stem the tide of the "flu," and through it all the ship plugged along across a sea that was more like beaten brass than copper. it was hot, very hot, and at night the decks seemed to steam. always the impi of sharks kept pace with us, their bodies throwing up streaks of phosphorescence as they lunged for their food. the whole thing was like a living nightmare and it seemed as though it would never end. out of the haze of those ghastly days there comes to me one vivid incident. one of the javanese women, a mother of seventeen or thereabouts, had a child of less than a year in her arms. i first noticed her when she held up her baby to me as i was going among the sufferers. the look in her eyes was so pleading, so trusting, that i took the little boy from her and examined him. the baby was as good as dead already. i gave it a sip of the stuff i was carrying, and the poor little thing opened its eyes and looked at me. i knew it could not live, but smiled encouragement as i gave it back to the outstretched arms. it was about sunset that night when the little mother realized that her son, her first-born, had gone. i was standing on the companionway, looking down on the fore-deck and wondering how long the plague would last, when some of the crew began picking bodies out of the scuppers and throwing them overboard. the glory of the sunset seemed a mockery and the thought came to me that i would be fortunate if i saw many more such sights. slowly the young javanese mother got to her feet and stood swaying as she wrapped her baby in a gay shawl. this done, she pressed it to her breast and began to walk to the rail. "she is going to bury her son herself," i thought, and i was partly right. she stood at the rail for a moment and then, the dying sun bright on her wistful face, turned and smiled at me. i smiled back, but the smile died aborning, for with one motion she rolled over the rail and was gone! i rushed to the place and looked over. the shadow of the ship was broken by some swirling streaks of phosphorescence, and that was all. there was no sign of the little java wife who could not live without her baby. that night i asked the old javanese chief about her. in his clear dutch he told me that she was the wife of a javanese who had gone to guiana some months before. she was to join him and bring his son, of whom he was very proud, when he had established their home in the new land. "now, how can i tell him about this?" the old fellow asked. "he will want his wife and child, and i will only have a sad story for him." but he was spared this. early the next morning i noticed that he was ill, and in spite of all i could do he passed away before noon. shortly before he lapsed into unconsciousness he sent for me. "i must go with those who have already gone," he said. "they need me and have sent for me. i can only go if i know that you, the great white doctor, will guard and care for those whom i leave behind. will you do this?" naturally, i promised, and that was the last i saw of him. he was a kindly, simple, old soul and the misfortune of his people would have broken his heart, had he lived. in a little while the "flu" began to lose its grip. fewer and fewer died each day, and i had begun to think that the end was in sight when the white lady who was going to america came down with it. she had been tireless in her efforts to help in caring for the javanese and i was not surprised when she fell ill. she was the only white person aboard to catch the "flu." we did everything possible for her, but she died on the second day. as her body went overboard the captain read aloud from the bible, choosing the passage, "greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." this struck me as particularly appropriate, since she had truly given her life for those javanese. after her death the "flu" devil seemed satisfied and abandoned us. before the end, however, we had lost more than twelve hundred of the javanese! the missionaries kept close to their cabins during the whole "flu" visitation, only appearing now and then on the afterdeck. they even gave this up as soon as the captain suggested that the wind might carry "flu" germs to them. in spite of their protestations, they had to eat with the rest of us or go hungry. the captain insisted on this point, since he felt that they deserved no consideration and it was also highly entertaining to watch their indignation when we all took a stiff nip of brandy with our meals. they spoke of what a great thing prohibition was for the united states, and every time they said it they would look meaningly at the canadian and me. in fact, after the "flu" left us the missionaries varied their religious conversations by giving table-talks on the evils of liquor. i remember how shocked they professed to be when i told them how much old labotsibeni liked her toddy and how we always brought it to her when we visited swaziland. when we reached free town, in the barbadoes, an incident happened which was very amusing, but which these fanatics used to point out the evils of liquor. i knew some people there, and the canadian and i went ashore and called on them. of course there was "a party," and we enjoyed ourselves in free and easy fashion. now the ship lay about a mile off port, because there was not sufficient water to allow her to dock. we went ashore in rowboats and came back in the same way. the deck was reached by a thirty-foot ladder, which is not the safest sort of footing at best. on our return from the party my friend missed his step at the top of the ladder and fell plump into the sea. there were a number of boats about and he was fished out without difficulty. the captain and i regarded the mishap as a good joke on the canadian, but at dinner that night the missionaries used it as the text for an extended discourse on the evils of strong drink. one female missionary told us a story which led to a retort that is worth repeating. "forty-odd years ago three prominent philadelphia doctors decided that drink and tobacco were the two great evils of the world," she said, "so they agreed never to touch either as long as they lived. they agreed that they would all meet after forty years and see how they compared with their drinking, smoking, dissipating friends. all lived up to the agreement faithfully. then they met in philadelphia as before, and were amazed to see how energetic, health-perfect, and generally superior they were to those who remained of their friends. they were now between seventy and eighty years old and yet were as active as men scores of years younger. "this proves conclusively," she concluded, "that all the ills of old age are directly due to drink and tobacco." naturally, we agreed with her. this, of course, we should not have done, since the fanatic gets no pleasure unless able to argue for his creed. my canadian friend, however, could not contain himself. "dr. o'neil told me a similar case this morning," he said quite seriously. "it was about his uncle. this uncle is now one hundred and five years old and is beginning to worry about his health. not long ago he was talking about drink and tobacco and told the doctor here that he had smoked steadily since he was seven years old; also that since he was fourteen he had drunk like a fish. 'and look at me,' he concluded; 'look at me! i know this whiskey will get me in the end!'" there was a roar of laughter about the table, but the seven missionaries did not join in it. instead, we went out of their lives forever, and in the long days that followed, the skipper, the canadian, and i spent most of our time together. the remainder of our voyage was uneventful and we finally reached new york. here i found a cable from oom tuys saying that the coronation was to be held soon and advising me to return as quickly possible. i realized that no time could be lost and rushed about the city getting my equipment and party together. i engaged dr. leonard sugden, the arctic explorer, as art and field director, william t. crespinell as technical expert, and earl rossman as camera-man. since they were to do the work, i had them buy the equipment. a feature of this was the manner in which the reels of film were packed. knowing the difficulties of the transvaal climate, crespinell had them soldered in tins which were again placed in other tins. these were also soldered and the air exhausted between the outer and inner tins, so that the films practically traveled in a thermos bottle. after assembling my party and equipment, the next step was to get the whole outfit to swaziland. this was a terrific undertaking. the war had so disarranged the world's shipping that i spent days on the docks of staten island and south brooklyn trying to find a ship that would take us to cape town. finally, after almost despairing, i was able to book passage for crespinell and rossman on the steamer "city of buenos aires," which went direct to cape town. a day later the captain of a freighter for the same port was induced to include dr. sugden and myself in his cargo. he did not know when he would start, but assured me that it would be soon. this was on a saturday, and i told sugden to stand by and wait for word to go on board. i saw that our equipment was stowed in the forward hold of the ship, and then went up to fairfield, connecticut, where some friends of my harvard days were living. they invited me to stay until i had to sail, and i settled down to have a pleasant visit. they have a fine farm and a barbecue was arranged in my honor. this barbecue was held in the woods, and we were in the midst of it when a servant came from the house with a telegram from the captain of the ship. he said that he would sail at eleven o'clock the next morning! at once commenced a mad rush. i got sugden's hotel on the long distance telephone, but they only knew that he had gone somewhere in the country to spend the week-end. i hurried back to new york and looked up every address where i might get information about him, but was unable to locate him. i kept trying up to the last moment, but finally could only leave word at his hotel that i was sailing. i went aboard very low in mind because his duties with my proposed expedition were of great importance. but sugden is one of those mortals who seldom gets left. as we swung down the bay past the statue of liberty, i spied a tug coming after us with great speed. in addition, she was whistling and generally acting as though she was trying to catch our freighter. we were going slowly, so that in a short time the little craft fussed up alongside--and there was sugden waving his hand from her forward deck! a rope-ladder was lowered, and a moment later i was gleefully shaking hands with him. now this was to be one of the most memorable voyages of my life--and i have traveled a good deal. to begin with, we had the worst accommodations i have ever endured on any vessel. our ship was only a cargo boat and there were no passenger-cabins whatever. we slept in a sort of steerage in the hold, in company with twelve of the crew. it was the most filthy hole i was ever in and reeked with vermin, including rats of the largest and most ferocious kind. the crew were the usual scum found on such boats and were the dirtiest human beings i have ever seen. they disapproved of us--and we of them--to such a degree that i often expected they would try to do us harm. sugden, however, took all this as part of the game, and his sporting spirit made it possible for us to exist. his experiences in the far north had made him familiar with all sorts of white men, but i had never seen such as these. people now and then speak slightingly of the kaffir, but the swazi, with his daily ablutions, is a very superior person when compared with these so-called "white men." when our ship reached the warmer latitudes our hole became unbearable and we moved our pallets to the poop-deck, where we managed to get some sleep in spite of the terrific rainstorms we ran into. we felt that it was better to be drowned by clean rainwater than to suffocate and die slowly in our steerage bunks. however, our miserable existence used to get on our nerves now and then and we would drown our sorrows with whatever liquor we could obtain. there was one other passenger on the boat. he was a typical american of the western type who had lived in south africa for years. every year he made a trip to the united states and brought back blooded stock of various kinds. he was the slap-dash, breezy kind of big-hearted soul and soon became chummy with us. owing to the fact that he was a regular tripper on this boat, he was able to share accommodations with one of the officers. it soon became his custom to visit us. he would sing out, "look out below!" and then would creep down the shaky ladder which was the only means of entry to our place of misery. always he brought a bottle, and the excellent "hootch," as he called it, did much to make our lives bearable. he was a good story-teller and would always introduce a preposterous yarn with the preface, "now this _is_ true!" we gave him quite a run for his money when it came to yarning, as both of us had been about a bit, sugden in the north and i in the south of the world. the first break in the monotony of this dreadful voyage came when we reached st. lucia, in the british west indies. this is a gorgeous bit of the tropics set in an opal sea, with cloud-covered mountain-tops that seem to rake the sky. when the ship tied up in the roadstead, sugden and i felt that we were due to go on the loose a bit and went ashore with the express purpose of forgetting our troubles. we certainly succeeded in doing so, but ended by jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. several of the ship's officers went with us, as they felt there were events at hand which they must not miss. our "party" started at the first hotel we entered. this, it seems, was exclusively for the colored section of the population, for the place fairly reeked with blacks. after we had had several drinks, sugden turned to me and asked: "well, what are we here for? what do we want?" "excitement!" was my answer, and we proceeded to get it. there was a billiard-table in the room, and this, with its torn green baize, suggested a battle-ground. we started a series of fights between the blacks, with a prize of five shillings to each winner. the conditions of the battles were that the two blacks should fight on the billiard-table, the loser being the one knocked off. there were some gallant battles, and every winner fairly earned his crown. the noise of the cheering drew a crowd, and soon the large bare bar-room was jammed with black boys and a sprinkling of whites. we whetted our interest by betting on the combatants, and i was doing quite nicely when the police broke in and stopped the fun. there was a squad of these funny black policemen, led by what i took to be a sergeant. they carried authority, and the blacks seemed to regard them with a great deal of respect. the sergeant wanted to know what i was doing. i told him that i was conducting a boxing tournament for the benefit of something or other. he asked if i had "official permission," and i admitted that i had overlooked this formality. "then you are inciting riot and rebellion," he said in his clipped english. "i arrest you in the name of the king!" at this, sugden commenced to laugh. this was a great mistake, since the black sergeant seemed to think that we were scoffing at the king. without more ado, he invited us to accompany him to the court. "this, my dear sirs," he said severely, "is a very serious matter. it is not allowed to stir up strife in his majesty's colonies." the court was in an old-style spanish house, and the room was vacant except for buzzing flies. these zoomed like infant meteors through the narrow streaks of sunlight from the long windows. the benches were worn and comfortable, and i remember dropping off to sleep with the thought that even these flies had more luck than we did, since they had sunlight and fresh air, while our home was that dreadful steerage hole. i was awakened by sugden's elbow. there on the high bench sat a thin old gentleman all in white. he had a thin hooked nose much like an eagle's beak, and his eyes were of the well-known gimlet type. as i took him in, the sergeant was reciting the charge against us. "these are desperate men," i heard him say, "from the ship now in the harbor. they were in the st. lucia hotel and were--" "yes! yes!" interrupted the thin magistrate in a voice as sharp as his nose. "but what is the charge? what have they done? never mind the oration; get to the charge!" by this time i was wide awake. i suddenly came to a full realization that i was one of those "desperate men" and found myself deeply interested. "they were inciting riot and rebellion," the sergeant went on, undaunted by the magistrate's impatience. "a boy ran to the police-station and said murders were being done at the hotel. i called out all the police and went there as fast as we could run. inside the billiard-room were hundreds of whites and blacks, all shouting with their desire for blood. on the billiard-table were two black men trying to kill one another. as i watched, one struck the other. he fell from the table and the crowd cheered. "then this man," he went on, pointing at me, "hands money to the man on the table and says, 'you win!' after this he takes money from the other white man"--pointing at sugden--"and tells him that he is rotten at picking fighters." "what next? what next?" the magistrate snapped. "then the first man demands that more men come and fight," continued the sergeant, "and there was a rush by the blacks to see who could get on the table. then i brought my men in and arrested them both. entirely unashamed at being arrested, this man"--again indicating sugden--"laughs out loud when i say the name of the king!" it seemed that we were guilty of disturbing the peace and quiet of his majesty's island of st. lucia and were very reprehensible characters. the lean magistrate regarded us with severe eye, and i am not surprised that he looked at us with suspicion. the voyage had not improved our looks much and we had come ashore in much-worn "ducks." in fact, we must have looked like a couple of beach-combers. "you have heard the charge?" he snapped at us. "guilty or not guilty?" we were as guilty as could be, of course. therefore we answered in one voice: "not guilty!" the magistrate raised his eyebrows at our effrontery and then cleared his throat again. "then you'll have to stand trial," he said. "i shall admit you to bail. five pounds each!" we promptly produced the bail, and i think the "thin dash of vinegar," as sugden christened him, was surprised that we had it. certainly we did not look as though we had a shilling between us. after our pedigrees were taken, we were informed that we would be tried at "ten o'clock next thursday morning." outside the court-room we found one of the ship's officers in a state of frenzy. it seems that he had been sent to get us, as the ship ought to have sailed several hours before. "she's been blowing and blowing and blowing for you!" he informed us in an aggrieved tone, "the old man is fair beside himself with rage." "oh, that's what all the noise is about," sugden innocently remarked. then he suggested that we take our time and stop at several places. he argued that so long as we kept the officer with us the captain would not dare to sail. but i vetoed this proposition, feeling that we had already run afoul of "his majesty the king" and not caring to take another chance. chapter xiv obstinate stowaways--free town and a fight--bay rum as a beverage--sugden lets off smoke-bombs--cape town, a party, and some anzacs--oom tuys advises haste--through south africa--americans and boers in ermelo--hurried visit to swaziland for information--mystery over the coronation--royal gin for labotsibeni--debeseembie drinks and talks. we were certainly unpopular with the skipper when we got back on board. the officers who had attended our fistic tournament had returned slightly the worse for wear, and, of course, their condition was laid at our door. in fact, we retired to our pallets on the poop-deck feeling that we had not one friend on the ship, outside of the gunner, who was heavily subsidized. it was his job to feed us, and we tipped him liberally to get us the best there was. he earned his money, however. at dawn the next morning there was a fine explosion--the captain fairly blew up. the chief officer had discovered two stowaways, and we were wakened by his marching them up to the captain's cabin. it seems it was the duty of the commanding officer of the ship to return these stowaways to the port where they slipped on board, and the rules made him responsible for their cost until he did so. this annoyed our worthy captain exceedingly and his language was more sultry than the weather, and that is saying a great deal. in his torrent of profanity the skipper included dr. sugden and myself, for it seems that he held us responsible for the stowaways getting aboard the ship. while he relieved himself of all that bad language, the two stowaways, both negroes, stood silent, although there was a baleful gleam in their eyes. they were finally told off to do some work, but flatly refused to lift a finger. then food was denied them until they did work, and the matter reached a deadlock. the captain finally decided to put into free town, in the barbadoes, and turn them over to the authorities there after making arrangements for their return to st. lucia. when the ship reached free town the captain gave strict orders that no one should be allowed ashore, adding, "particularly those two doctors!" we did not like this, as free town is a pleasant place and we could have found relaxation there that would have broken the tedium of the voyage. we needed the break, too, for the captain had ordered that we should not be allowed to buy any more liquor after the events at st. lucia. however, we had commissioned the gunner to see what he could do for us and he had gone ashore with "the old man." in a little while a busy motor-launch, with the union jack flying free, came chugging alongside with our worthy captain and six of the free town police. they tumbled on board and announced to the stowaways that they were under arrest. "we are, are we?" these worthies asked. "well then, come and get us!" they tore off their coats and shirts and waited for the attack. the police made no move, and i did not blame them. these two outcasts were the finest specimens of "fighting niggers" i have ever seen. their torsos were ribbed with muscle and they looked fit to fight for their lives. what was more, they seemed anxious to begin! the police shuffled their feet, and i saw that they were afraid to tackle them. the stowaways saw it, too, and became cocky. they turned on the captain and officers of the ship and let loose a flood of damaging language quite as strong as their splendid bodies. expurgated, it ran something like this: "you white folks think 'cause you've got some gol' braid on yer coats that yu' kin run over us! come on an' get us! if yu' wanter arrest us, come an' do it! yu' aint got th' nerve! yu're afraid, that's wot yu' are! come on an' fight, white men, come on!" not one of the officers or police moved. the stowaways were right; they were afraid. then sugden and i broke the tension by cheering the stowaways. like us, they were the under dogs and we were for them. we cheered and applauded their defiance, and this proved too much for the forces of law and order. there was a wild rush, and after a few sturdy blows the stowaways were overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers. when the flailing arms stopped, they were flat on the deck with about six men sitting on each. the irons were brought and clapped on them, and the last we saw of them was when they were hustled on board the launch. while this party was going on the gunner had been busy on our behalf. he had been unable to sneak away from the captain's gig when ashore, but made up for it by doing business with the bumboat men who came alongside. from one of these he bought two cases of bay rum, paying twenty cents a quart for it. this he smuggled down into our steerage and told us about it as soon as the smoke of battle had cleared away. now this bay rum is not meant for drinking, although the blacks of that part of the world consume great quantities of it. i have heard that it makes them wild, and i am not surprised. it did worse than that to sugden and me. we started drinking it as soon as we could, and before long we reached the semi-conscious state that made life bearable. from this we went into the second stage--that of hallucinations. we went practically crazy. sugden insisted that he was a red squirrel and i believed that i was a wild cat. we became violent and were locked in the steerage. however, they did not take our bay rum away. now the captain never visited our quarters, so he did not know of our plight until the end of the second day. then he ordered that we be released. no sooner was the hatch taken off than sugden tore up the ladder, crying out that "the wild cat" was after him. i was! believing his assertion that he was a red squirrel, i chased him all over the boat, intent on killing him. we dashed through the officers' quarters, the captain's cabin, across the decks, up on the bridge and down again, and even got into the engine-room in our mad chase. every one on the ship followed us, roaring with laughter. it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. finally they captured us and brought us back to earth with buckets of sea-water. the captain was so amused that he forgave our previous sins and became our friend. he confiscated the balance of the bay rum and put us on an allowance of one stiff drink of whiskey each evening. this helped, but it was not very much under the circumstances. the next afternoon sugden made a hit with the captain. the world war was not long over and the ship had a number of smoke-bombs which were supposed to be used in foiling u-boats. the gunner was in charge of them. since they were no longer needed, the captain gave orders that they be thrown overboard. the gunner, however, proved inexpert. he lighted several, and then dropped them over the stern so quickly that the fuse was extinguished without the bomb exploding. sugden watched these manoeuvers with extreme disgust. at each failure his remarks became more insulting. finally he could stand it no longer--he had not yet fully recovered from the bay rum--and staggered up to the gunner. "you're a fine gunner," he snorted. "who ever heard of a gunner who couldn't make a smoke! stand back and let an expert let 'em off!" i was deathly afraid that he might have an accident, that one of the bombs would explode and kill him. the gunner had the same idea and hurriedly withdrew. the captain called to sugden, but he paid no attention. he lighted the first bomb, held it for an interminable time, and dropped it over. it "boomed" as it struck the water and threw out the smoke-screen in most approved navy fashion. we all cheered, partly from relief that there had been no accident. then sugden let off all the rest of the bombs without a failure. "well, you're a little bit of all right, after all," the captain said. "come down to my cabin and i'll give you a real drink!" from then on we had a pleasant trip. our captain let bygones be bygones and we enjoyed the few remaining days enough to partly make up for the misery that had preceded them. crespinell and rossman had arrived in cape town when we reached there, and came out in a motor-boat to meet us. we introduced them to our new friend, the captain, and he gave them a brief résumé of our activities during the thirty-odd days of the voyage. he gave us credit for being two of the "rarest specimens" he had ever encountered. "the next time i ship two such wild men as these," he said, "i'll move into the forecastle and give 'em my cabin! what's more, from now on i'm going to limit myself to one doctor a trip, and he won't be a boer, either. these two devils did everything from start a menagerie on one case of bay rum to instigate a mutiny when we had some fighting stowaways on board." then he gave a romantic and none too flattering account of how we had been arrested in st. lucia, and ended by informing my men that we were "fugitives from justice." this had not occurred to me; perhaps it is so and i shall find the funny black policeman waiting for me the next time i visit the island. we were glad to get ashore. it is one thing to race across the atlantic in five days on a floating palace and quite another and none-too-pleasant experience to spend more than a month on a freighter in the warmer latitudes. the solid earth welcomed our feet and we found cape town very gay. after getting settled at the hotel, we started out to enjoy ourselves. of course we chartered a motor, and our trail could easily be followed by the familiar fumes of gasoline and alcohol. the town was full of "anzacs," australian and new zealand soldiers, returning from the war. they were great big reckless devils, glad to be going home and glorying in the fact that they had won the war. this led to an argument and to my taking a short and sad cruise in the "mayflower," this being the highflown name of a typical cape town hack. in one of the many places we visited during the course of our rambles, we ran into a number of "aussies" celebrating the downfall of the boche. they immediately noted dr. sugden's sombrero and greeted him as a "yank." this was all right, but soon they added a familiar remark, "the yanks won the war; oh yes, they did!" and sugden became indignant. the usual argument ensued. words ceased when sugden slammed his hat on the ground and offered to lick them all. a second later we were in the center of a fine mêlée, which was ended by the military police breaking in. sugden was badly used up and some of the rest of us were severely bruised. the nearest vehicle was the "mayflower," so we piled the "fighting yank" into it and took him back to the hotel. he had been badly damaged, so that it was a week before we were able to travel. in the meantime oom tuys had sent me several telegrams in which he urged me to hurry. in one there was the phrase, "tzaneen making trouble; maybe war," and this sounded as if we were in for an interesting time when we reached swaziland. i did not understand how she could do anything unless she tried to take the throne for sebuza by force, but the situation looked as though there was some excitement ahead. sugden was still recuperating from his battle with the australians and expected to remain in bed for a few days more when this wire reached me. i showed it to him and he immediately became excited. "come on, let's go" he said, getting out of bed. "we're wasting time here. let's get into swaziland and see what's doing." we left next day for the transvaal. it is a long journey, but to one who has not made it before there is much of interest. after leaving the coast there come the beautiful mountain passes of the cape colony. then the train drops to the karoo desert, with its endless brown stretches broken only by dry rivers, near which can be seen great herds of sheep. kimberley, with its barrenness and huge dumps of dark, diamond-washed soil comes next, and finally the great fish river is crossed to the grassy plains of the orange free state. across these plains the train runs for hundreds of miles, and then comes the vaal river, after which the veldt of the transvaal is reached. after a while the huge smoke-stacks and great white ore-dumps of johannesburg loom, and the journey is practically ended. my companions were keen to hear all about this country, so new to them, and i was kept busy running from side to side of the car supplying their thirst for information. dr. sugden, i found, was well up on the history of the country and would often supply a missing date when i related the romantic story of the boer and british conquest of south africa. we spent several days in johannesburg, and my companions were delighted with it. they frequently commented on its being like an up-to-date american city, as they found practically everything there that they would expect in the united states. in fact, sugden was loud in his praises of the telephone service, which he insisted was "almost as good as that at home." the city has developed extensively during the last twenty years and now has buildings, hotels, and streets of the most modern type. the great contrast lies in the character of the street traffic. there are hundreds of motors of all kinds, but there are also innumerable rickshaws drawn by zulus, thousands of kaffirs, and not a few horse-cabs. then, of course, the huge mine-dumps right in the heart of the city struck my companions as extraordinary, but it must be remembered that the city grew up after the mines were sunk. there are miles and miles of smoke-stacks, and the crushing of the ore mills can always be heard. my party was much impressed by parktown, the millionaires' suburb to the north of the city. here there are libraries, a zoological garden, and all things essential to a thoroughly equipped and prosperous city. i have many friends in johannesburg and my companions had a pleasant time visiting them with me. they had their first view of a real boer village when we landed in ermelo a few days later. the morning we reached there we saw several score of cape carts loaded with farmers and their wives coming to town to shop. then there were several of those great canvas-topped freight wagons, drawn by seven or eight span of wide-horned oxen and driven by a number of kaffir boys. these walk alongside with their long goads, and the entire progress of the caravan is one long shout. with the yelling of the kaffirs, the creaking of the great wagon, and the frequent lowing of the oxen, the noise of such an outfit is as striking as is its picturesque appearance. sugden was intensely interested in these great freight trains, and reminded me of their similarity to those which made the overland trail in the states during the days of the forty-niners. the heavy-set men riding beside the wagons particularly impressed him. "why, they are the same men that settled the west of my country," he exclaimed. "their steady eyes and great beards remind me of the days of crockett and boone. their rifles, ready for instant use, carry out the picture. fred remington would have been crazy over these ox-teams!" i noted that the interest was not all on our side; these farmer boers were quite as curious about us as we were about them. they called each other's attention to our strange clothes, and not a few looked with envy at dr. sugden's sombrero. he was right about these men. they are the true pioneer breed, the men who found and make empires! oom tuys was not in ermelo. one of his boys was waiting for me, however, with a message that preparations were being made for the coronation at lebombo, but that labotsibeni had made no sign as yet. he assured me that i need not worry and that he would join me at ermelo in a day or two. i commenced assembling our expedition, and while i was so occupied my companions visited about and made many friends among the boers. none of them had ever seen any americans, although they had heard much of the united states, and they were greatly interested in everything the latter said and did. in fact, word reached the outlying districts that some americans were in ermelo and several hundred boers trekked in to see them. of course my companions could not talk dutch and it was seldom that an interpreter could be found. it was no unusual thing for several great, bearded boers to shake hands with them and say, "hello, america!" this being the extent of their english. sometimes conversations would take place in very broken english, the boers always wishing to get news from the outer world. i remember one such talk. the boer was a sort of preacher and was fairly well read. he spoke english of a kind--that is, it was understandable. he caught sugden and me when we were returning from looking over some oxen and asked us a question that had been perplexing him. i translate his words into ordinary language, as otherwise they would be difficult to understand. "the war is over, yes?" he asked. "and america sent more than two million men and spent hundreds of millions of pounds. england, france, and the others will take much from germany and austria, but america says she will take nothing. is this so?" "yes, that's right," sugden answered. "why is america so foolish?" he asked in a puzzled way. "she loses thousands of men and millions of money, and yet wants nothing from germany! why did she go into the war?" this question was not asked so often in those days, and i was curious to hear sugden's reply. "america went into the war to save herself," the doctor answered positively. "if germany had won, she would have had to fight her alone, so she went in to avoid such a war." this satisfied the greybeard, but he went off muttering, "america wants nothing! america wants nothing! such a foolishness!" naturally, he could not understand this. every time the boers made war they gained territory, as did the british, and he judged from his own experience. i was glad that sugden had stated the facts, instead of the old cant about america fighting to "save civilization." i know the old boer would not have understood that and would have regarded it as what sugden called "bunk." i had about finished assembling our outfit when tuys came. he brought word that the coronation was indefinitely postponed, so we settled down to wait a bit before starting for the wilds of swaziland. as usual, the unexpected happened. one of tuys's men came to ermelo in hot haste, bearing word that the coronation was to take place as soon as possible. this was disconcerting information, and tuys and i held a council of war. "i don't believe that they intend having the coronation right away," he said. "i don't think that sebuza has been properly consecrated yet." "well, you know what we've just heard," i said. "i wish we could get some first-hand information about it. i'd hate to lose out after all the trouble i've taken." "owen, lad, there's just one thing to do--let us make a quick trip to zombode and find out about it," my uncle advised. we talked the matter over for some time, and that seemed to be the only solution. there were still a few details of our expedition to be attended to, but i turned these over to sugden and made up my mind to leave next morning. dawn saw oom tuys and me on the trail. we rode fast ponies and went unattended. what food we needed we carried in saddle-bags, and the most weighty part of our load consisted of several bottles of gin. these, of course, were a necessity. the trip proved uneventful. the weather was good and we were able to sleep out comfortably. we skirted around mbabane, since it would not do for mr. commissioner dickson to know that tuys was going into swaziland. when we reached zombode we found lomwazi on guard at the royal kraal. he came out to meet us and received our gift of gin with rather poor grace. he seemed uneasy and not at all glad to see us. we asked to see queen labotsibeni. "nkoos, the queen is not well and cannot see you," he answered, lying badly. "but she sent for me," tuys said, catching his eye and meeting lie with lie. with the assured air of the white man, he was able to tell his lie convincingly. we knew that we would be caught if we allowed lomwazi to return to the old queen alone, so we dogged his footsteps and arrived at her hut with him. tuys fairly pushed in ahead of lomwazi, and a moment later was talking to labotsibeni. "nkosikaas, mother of buno the great," he said, "i, the white king of swaziland, am here to do your bidding. your son, lomwazi, told me that you are not well and i have brought mzaan bakoor, the great doctor, to cure you." i could see the old woman seemed very feeble. she nodded approval as tuys finished and answered by asking for gin. lomwazi pulled out the glass stopper and a moment later held the earthenware cup to his mother's lips. she gulped and choked, then repeated her action, and finally finished the drink, gasping for breath. we sat and watched and saw a transformation. as the alcohol went down we saw her strength return. in a few minutes she was the same old queen i had known before. lomwazi squatted behind her with sullen look. when he glanced our way there was murder in his eyes, and i did not like it. tuys, always reckless and utterly fearless, gave him glance for glance, and the black man's eyes always fell. "i am cured, nkoos," labotsibeni began in quite a strong voice. "i am well. the 'muti' of the white man cures all ills of the body, even when it numbers the years as the leaves of the trees. why have you come to see me?" "i wish to know when you plan to make your grandson, sebuza, the son of buno, king of swaziland," tuys answered without fencing. he thought that a direct answer might get the truth. "when all is ready sebuza will be made king," she answered without hesitation, and it seemed to me there was the ghost of a smile on her lips. tuys then asked her how soon that would be, but she said she did not know. this time i was sure she smiled. i had a feeling that we would get no information out of her and that zombode was not any too anxious for the coronation. tuys then asked for sebuza and wanted to know where he was. the blind old queen let lomwazi answer us, and the wily vizier said he did not know, but that he thought the crown prince was in the mountains being consecrated. according to the ancient customs, before the new king takes office he must go through a lengthy ceremonial in the mountains. this usually lasts for two months, or "two moons," and the priests, or witch-doctors, are in charge of the rites. in the case of sebuza the sanctification was also the celebration of his attaining manhood. after lomwazi's evasive reply--for i felt that he was lying--labotsibeni began to ask questions. i knew that we must answer them in detail if we wished to get any further information, so we did so. she became quite peevish when the effect of the gin wore off and was nothing but a querulous old woman. but she asked the most extraordinary questions! i realized more than ever that she had brains, for she went from one end of the world to the other. of course she had no education as we know it, but she asked about the boers and british and how they were getting along together, "lying in the same bed," as she put it. she had heard that all the white men were at war with one another, and she asked question after question about the world conflict. it seems that aëroplanes had flown over parts of swaziland during the war, and she was curious about these. they had been described to her as great birds carrying men and guns, and she wanted to know how it was done. tuys and i kept our patience and answered everything we could, always trying to get a stray bit of information concerning sebuza's coronation. she had several drinks of gin during the talk, which ended after about three hours with our being no wiser than when we came. once or twice we thought the news was coming, but each time the watchful lomwazi stepped into the breach and turned the subject. we were completely baffled. finally we gave it up. as we made our farewell speech, in which we wished the old queen "long life and good health," i offered her the "going-away present." then ensued an incident that showed how keen she was in spite of her great age and lack of sight. the gin bottle was an unusual shape; that is, it was long and tall, instead of being squat and square. when i handed it to her she passed her hands over it with rapidity and then asked what it was, for she had never had a bottle like it before. "it is royal gin," i assured her. "it is gin that is made only for kings and queens. it is the gin that the queen of the english drinks. it is the only gin worthy of you, nkosikaas!" this satisfied her and she accepted our farewell, so we went back to our horses. tuys was amused at the old queen's keenness and told me i had committed treason by making the queen of england drink gin to placate a swazi potentate. lomwazi came with us to do the honors, though really he wanted to make sure we did not talk to any one and get information. he was still sullen and suspicious, and we pointedly did not present him with the gin he hoped for, although he saw that we had several bottles left. "it's no use, owen," tuys said, as we rode down the trail to the valley of heaven. "they are planning something, and i fear it means trouble for that cub, sebuza. i have a feeling that we ought to get our outfit here and sit tight and watch events. something is going to happen. it may be a new king or a dead crown prince. i can't tell which." that night we camped near a kraal of one of the minor indunas and noted that there was less cordiality than usual. tuys strolled over to the great fire and talked for some time with the warriors. in a little while he came back quite excited. "debeseembie, lomwazi's brother, is over there," he said. "he is inside the kraal, but some of his men let out the fact that he was there. i wonder what he is doing? suppose we try and find out." this seemed a good idea, and tuys went about it in his own cunning way. he strolled over to the fire and told one of the warriors that he had a bottle of gin for debeseembie, but that he would only deliver it to him personally. then he came back to where i was stretched on my blankets. now a swazi, like all other kaffirs, will do anything for alcohol, even to the sacrifice of his royal dignity. debeseembie was the son of a queen and the brother of the late king buno; nevertheless, he was standing respectfully nearby within a few minutes. "nkoos, you have a present for me?" he asked, and i could see his eyes flash in anticipation. "yes, if you will sit and talk a while," i told him, and then produced a bottle. tuys poured out a generous drink and gave it to him. debeseembie choked it down, just as the kaffirs always do, and then gasped for breath for a moment. then tuys began talking about many things, none of them with much bearing on the information we wanted. in a little while debeseembie had another drink. he is the most sincere of all the royal family and i have always found him to be very trustworthy. he is not a good liar and seems to know it. gradually we led the conversation to the coming coronation and finally asked him the leading question: how soon will it be? he was not angered and gave us the first direct intimation of the trouble we had suspected. "my brother, lomwazi, doesn't want it to take place," he said; "and he has great power over our mother. he frightens her by telling her that she will have to die when sebuza is crowned. all the people of swaziland want to have a king and are tired of labotsibeni and lomwazi, and tzaneen is working for her son's coronation. no one can tell when sebuza will be made king. it may be never!" that was what we wanted to know. debeseembie, always at the old queen's elbow, ought to know what he was talking about and we felt that he had told the truth. a few moments later i gave him our last bottle of gin and he stumbled back to his kraal. next morning we were up at dawn, striking back to ermelo as fast as we could go. again we skirted mbabane, but nevertheless made good time. tuys was very thoughtful during most of the trip, and i cannot remember that he had anything to say until we came in sight of ermelo. "well, it looks as if our friends in swaziland need some one to make up their minds for them," he said in a musing way. "however, i don't want to have to do it!" i glanced at the cunning old man, but he was looking into the dust ahead and did not amplify his remark. it was an interesting thought, however, and it did offer one way out of our difficulties. chapter xv outfitting for swaziland--our cook becomes "gunga din"--lomwazi's messenger--off for zombode--rossman goes hunting--too much rain--the oxen die and are replaced by donkeys--sneaking liquor through mbabane--ezulweni mosquitoes rival new jersey's--we are very unpopular in zombode--manaan's damage suit and settlement. dr. sugden and the others were waiting for me at the house. they were all ready to start and impatient to be off. the novelty of boer life in ermelo had worn away and they now were keen to be out among the swazis. "let's go!" was sugden's chant. "come on, let's start! all the things are packed, the wagon's set, and the oxen are eating their heads off. come on, let's go!" i assured him that we would be off as soon as possible, and added that he would find plenty of hard walking to use up his surplus energy once we started trekking. tuys and i, as the old-timers of the party, made a thorough inspection of the wagon and outfit. we had trekked practically all over the transvaal and orange free state at various times and our equipment was all that could be needed for the job in hand. the wagon was one of the great freight-carriers used so extensively in south africa. it was along the lines of the old american "prairie schooner," except that it was much bigger and heavier in every way. it was about eighteen feet long by ten wide and could safely be loaded up to three or three and a half tons. its wheels were squat and heavy, with broad tires built to prevent their cutting into soft roadways and to roll over the dust of dry weather without sinking into it. the rear half of the wagon was covered with a top, or tent, under which a permanent bed was built. this bed was of the primitive plain-board kind, but saved us from having to sleep on the wet earth on many occasions. when we started out the wagon was drawn by eleven span, or twenty-two oxen. three swazi boys were in charge of it and were responsible for its animals. then, chiefly for our personal convenience, i had pressed the wagonette into service, and this was drawn by six mules. sibijaan and tuis were in charge of this part of the outfit. i must not forget our cook. he was a most important member of the expedition and came through it in a most remarkable manner--always on the job and always ready to work a little harder. he was an indian, that is, a native of india who had come to the transvaal as servant to a british officer during the world war. his right name became lost early in our association. it was a long, three-barreled sort of name, quite melodious, but not handy for trek use. when i was inspecting our equipment i asked him his name again, and he calmly answered, "gunga din, sahib." "since when? when did you change your name?" i asked, surprised that he had relinquished his proud paternal patronymic. "yesterday, sahib. the sahib with the large hat says that he can't remember my name and tells me that from now on i shall be known as 'gunga din.'" investigation showed that sugden became fed up on the long, beautiful name of our cook and had firmly given him one that was easy to remember. "gunga din's easy to remember," he explained. "gunga din and rudyard kipling go together, and you surely can't forget them both. g. din made r. k. famous, and it's a cinch to remember the cook's name that way. anyhow, we'll be calling him 'din' as soon as we get going!" and he was right. the chef with a name like a great poet became "din" and remained "din" until we returned from swaziland. the great wagon was heavily loaded with all the dunnage and impedimenta needed for our expedition, among which were gin and a number of mysterious cases i had personally seen packed in new york. my companions did not know what was in them until late in our expedition, but when they found that i had nearly one hundred pounds of glorious five-and-ten-cent-store jewelry they realized that i knew a bit about the kaffir character. of course we had all the weapons we could use. the best sporting rifles and revolvers were part of the equipment, though i hoped that we should not have occasion to use them except for pot-hunting. things will happen in swaziland, however, and tuys was a great believer in foresight. after our rigid inspection of the outfit we returned from the kraal to the house, where the whole party assembled for dinner. during the meal a discussion arose as to whether it would not be a good idea to start immediately and work our way into swaziland on the chance of being able to get action. tuys maintained that we ought to start at once and hinted mysteriously that the coronation might be arranged whether labotsibeni liked it or not. knowing his propensity for taking chances and his liking for trouble, i hesitated to encourage this idea. sugden, of course, wanted action and rather welcomed the thought of trouble. crespinell was neutral, taking the stand that anything was better than "sticking around ermelo," while rossman said he did not care whether he took pictures of peace or war. but the matter was taken out of our hands. at about dawn next morning sibijaan came hammering on the door of my room. i jumped up and let him in. "mzaan bakoor, there is a messenger outside from zombode," he announced. "he came in the night and would not wait any longer. he says he must see you now." i had the man in. he was one of the old "king's messengers," but without his distinguishing sign. his lean, hard body and muscular legs would have singled him out, though. "nkoos, lomwazi sends me to bring you a message," he said, with his hands outstretched in salute. "he says that sebuza will be made king at the next new moon." looking back, it seems to me that we must have made a peculiar tableau there in the bedroom dimly lighted by the coming sunrise. the savage, with his great shield, knob-kerrie, and assegai, and the white man in his pajamas! i will admit that the white man had his finger on the trigger of a little -caliber bulldog revolver during the first part of this interview. one does not take foolish chances in south africa. i asked the messenger for further details about the coronation, but all i could learn was that sebuza had been in the mountains undergoing sanctification for the last six weeks and would return to lebombo before the new moon. sibijaan took care of the swazi and saw that he was fed and given a little drink. after which he took to the trail again, and i saw him fade into the distance at a dog-trot just about the time we were finishing breakfast. his news decided the argument of the night before. the oxen were inspanned, the mules also, and about noon we started off on our trek for zombode. the expedition had been the talk of ermelo for some time, and practically every white man and most of the kaffirs were on hand to cheer and give us a rousing send-off. many of our friends walked with us until we crossed the little bridge and were lost in the willow-groves along the river trail. this first day the roads were excellent and we made the best speed of any day of the trip. before night we had gone a full twenty miles, stopping at the fine farm of an old-fashioned boer. instead of camping in the open, as we had to do for practically all the rest of the expedition, we stopped with the farmer. i did this because i wanted my american associates to see how real boers live. we had a regular boer supper, consisting of grilled meats, such as chops, hearts, liver, kidneys, and boer bacon; crushed mealies, rye bread, and coffee. there was an abundance of all this and it was cooked to the queen's taste. the twenty-mile trek, during which we walked every foot of the way, had given us wonderful appetites and we were able to do more than justice to the quantities of food set out. following supper the old boer became solemn, as is the custom after the evening meal, and led us in religious services. no matter how poor or how humble, the true boer never forgets his "night prayers." this is his heritage from those huguenot ancestors. it was impressive to see my american companions bow their heads silently as the old farmer recited his devotions. prayers over, we went to the "parlor," whose chief ornaments were almost priceless relics and skins, and staged an amateur musicale. there was a good piano and we had our ukelele. what more could be desired? all the kaffirs in the neighborhood gathered outside and fairly wept for joy. it was a splendid concert, considering the talent, and made a great hit with the farmer and his wife. next morning we were inspanned and on our way by dawn. it was raining, and this made it look like bad going all day. the farmer and his wife were up as soon as we, and had rusks and hot, strong coffee for us. it was chilly, and the coffee was a good "pick-me-up" before a day's trek. before we left the boer made us promise to stay a week with him on our return from swaziland. he said he would arrange a feast for us and we would be able to play our "hand-fiddle" for all his neighbors. by ten o'clock we had made about seven miles, and camped for breakfast on the shores of a small lake. our progress had been much delayed by the rain, and this made the walking disagreeable as well. we were very hungry for breakfast and din performed wonders, considering that the rain continued until an hour after we had finished. after a short rest we started on again, and by four o'clock we had reached the banks of the masuto river. here we made a good camp, pitching two additional tents, so that we would have a mess-room and cook-house with which the rain could not interfere. this camp was chiefly memorable for the fact that rossman almost had an "adventure." while din was getting supper ready the camera-man took a rifle and went along the river with the intention of shooting something. he had been gone only a few minutes when we heard a shout, followed by a shot. sugden and crespinell rushed to rossman's assistance, each with a rifle. they reached his side to find him gazing fearsomely at a large snake whose back had been severed by his bullet. it was a dramatic moment--especially when sugden picked up the snake and pointed out the fact that it must have been dead for a week or more! that night we were all very tired and went to sleep as early as possible. next morning, true to my boer upbringing, i was up and about before dawn. coffee and rusks were ready soon after, and my companions were awakened to face their third day's trek. of course we could walk faster than the oxen, so i pushed ahead as i knew that there was a mapor kraal a short distance away. we reached the kraal about five miles ahead of the wagons, and this gave me time to show the others their first native settlement. all the men were away, only women and children being at home. these all seemed to belong to a small chief of the tribe, and they informed me that he was away on a hunting trip. sugden and the others were intensely interested in everything they saw and i arranged for them to inspect the interior of a number of the huts. i soon noticed that all the women were much taken with rossman; in fact, they could hardly keep their eyes off him. i found by questions that they were fascinated by his great horn-rimmed glasses. the upshot was that we allowed a certain few of these dusky eves to try the glasses on, and they were much amused thereat. we distributed about five shillings among them and they treated us to tswala and brought us a number of fresh eggs. in a little while the wagons hove in sight and camped near the kraal for breakfast. scraps of wood and "buffalo chips" made our fire, and presently din had a good "feed" ready. while the cooking was going on the little kaffirs gathered about the camp in numbers. some of them even drove their goats close so that they might see the white men eat. by the time we began breakfast there were more than forty of these little beggars squatting on their haunches near the table. they watched every motion most intently and followed each morsel to its destination. every now and then i would take a piece of lump sugar and, without looking, throw it in their direction. instantly there would be the fiercest sort of a scramble for the tidbit. they were rough beyond reason, and every now and then one of them would be hurt and crawl away for a few minutes until he had recovered. never, however, would he cry out or show that he felt the pain. no sooner did our wagons leave the spot than there was a wild rush to where we had been. they fought furiously over every scrap in the hope of finding food that the white men had thrown away. we kept steadily on until five o'clock that night, and then made camp. when din gave the supper-call at about eight o'clock, sugden and i went to the mess-tent to find crespinell and rossman sound asleep on the floor. they were worn out by the steady walking and i did not blame them for taking it easy. after a "shot" of picardy brandy, we all sat down to the best supper gunga din had yet given us. there was soup, chicken curry, rice, vanilla pudding, canned fruits, and coffee. truly, a feast for a trek supper! that night sugden and the others were kept awake for some time by the howling of several jackals. they suggested that they take their rifles and go out and "get some of those infernal beasts!" i had to explain to them that it would be exactly like trying to shoot the shadow of a ghost, and they went back to bed grumbling heartily. the next day was a bad one, rain making our progress slow and miserable. i wanted to reach a certain point, and we forced the oxen until noon before stopping. this trek had been too long and hurt the brutes so that their spirit seemed broken. we camped among some very rugged hills, and here dr. sugden showed us all how to handle tents and ropes in wet weather. the ease with which he tied and untied knots in the ropes astounded our kaffirs and filled the rest of us with envy. the rain increased, and soon everything became soaked. it was such a downpour that we decided to wait for it to slacken and ended by remaining in this camp for two days. our only amusement was to watch tuis, the basuto-bushman kaffir, in his perpetual conflict with the other boys. being of a different breed, he did everything in a way all his own and, in addition, was naturally antagonistic and sulky. [illustration: on the way to the royal kraal at zombode dr. o'neil and party going through the valley of heaven. the barren mountains in the distance show the rugged nature of the country] [illustration: the second trip into swaziland the o'neil caravan shortly after the draft-oxen had died and were replaced by mules and donkeys] [illustration: mother feeding her baby] [illustration: maiden singing to the crown prince sebuza she is playing on the native instrument which consists of a bow and one string] in spite of the picturesqueness of this camp, we were very glad to leave it. we were now in the wild country, with no farms, and the only break in the monotony was a little wild goose shooting shortly before we reached the swaziland border. our real troubles began about this time. the oxen began to die, and it was not long before we were absolutely stalled. we were then in camp on the border, and it looked as though we would stay there unless i was able to get some other animals to pull the wagon. finding further progress impossible, i scouted about and ran into a kaffir living on the border who had a horse. i hired this steed--a sorry one it was--and, following a tip given me by its owner, rode twelve miles to see if i could talk business with a small swazi chief who was said to have a number of donkeys. at first this old chief did not want to talk about donkeys at all, and it was not until i began to talk payment first and donkeys last that he consented to get down to business. we finally made a deal, and it was this: i was to pay him the equivalent of one pound sterling in gin for every day i used his donkeys. this was not such a bad bargain because i had to have about forty of the little animals to make up for the oxen i had lost. the most interesting part of this transaction was to see the chief's men harness the donkeys to our big wagon. they used bits of weed-rope, rawhide, and a stout grass rope that they make themselves. the harnessing took a long time and we were delayed until i began to grow impatient, but there was nothing else to do but wait. finally we were off, but it was a funny looking caravan. it had been raining hard for some days and we presently came to a little stream which was much swollen. here we had a terrible time. the "harness" kept breaking, and the way the natives thrashed those poor donkeys was frightful. it seemed to be the only method, though, and eventually we took a hand in the punishment ourselves. the night of the second day saw us camped at the foot of the mountain that leads to the village of mbabane. we found several other transport wagons there, with three white traders whose occupation was to carry goods from ermelo and carolina, the two rail stations, to mbabane and vice versa. these traders were much interested in our outfit, and by treating them to drinks, fresh food, and the payment of one pound sterling i was able to hire twelve donkeys from their caravans to assist us to the top of the mountain. we started at dawn next day, and by noon had reached the summit. there we rested for the balance of the day. my object in delaying there all the afternoon was mainly on account of the great load of liquor in the big wagon. i did not want to bring this through mbabane in daylight because i had no permit to bring it into swaziland and i did not want to get caught doing so. i thought that i could get by practically unobserved if i waited until after dark and then went through the village with other wagons. our camp at the top of the hill was about three miles from mbabane, and i ordered sibijaan to inspan and start on again at five o'clock. this would bring him to the village at about eight o'clock, or shortly after dark. we went ahead and called on mr. and mrs. dickson, who gave us tea. it was real english tea and we enjoyed it immensely. the dicksons had heard of our expedition and were much interested. mrs. dickson, however, was greatly amused at our capacity for tea, since we each drank between five and six cups. but we were dead tired and it was wonderful to shut out the whole of swaziland and sit down in this cozy english home to drink decent tea poured by a white woman! after thanking the dicksons, i went to the little store and bought some supplies. i also went to the hotel and bought some liquor, this being merely for camouflage, as i wished them to think i needed it. the supplies and liquor i gave to a native carrier, telling him to take it to the place where we expected to camp for the night. there were six packages in all, weighing about forty-five pounds, and it was amusing to see this kaffir summon five others to help him. each swazi, carrying his shield, knob-kerrie, and assegai, started for our camp with a little parcel on his head. the wagon was late. i began to be worried, for i had estimated that it would arrive in the village about eight o'clock. i spent a nervous hour or so waiting for it to show up, but it did not do so till about : . i told sibijaan to proceed to the camping place about two miles further on, and we pushed ahead to be on hand when it arrived. soon we ran into a typical wonder-sight of that part of the country. i had noticed a red glow in the sky off to the left, and on turning a little hill we saw that the whole side of a mountain was one tremendous fire. while this was at its worst, or most glorious, height, the great red african moon came up over the mountain like a huge ball of flame. the whole scene was so striking that sugden insisted we ought to take a picture of it. we hurried back to the wagon and found a number of swazis trailing it out of curiosity. with the aid of a box of cigarettes, i pressed twelve of them into service and got the cameras to the spot from which we wanted to take the picture. while we were doing this little swazis seemed to spring up out of the ground, and before we had finished there must have been at least four score of them wondering what the white men were trying to do. sibijaan saw a chance to air his superior knowledge and i heard him telling these little fellows a preposterous yarn. "you see those black boxes?" he said, pointing to the cameras. "well, those are the magic boxes of nkoos mzaan bakoor, the great white witch-doctor. he will look at the fire through them and soon it will go out. if he is offended, he can make the fire burn up the whole country and kill all the swazis!" i was afraid to look back and note the effect of this beautiful lie, but i heard the kaffir exclamation of wonder--"ou! ou!"--from a dozen throats and decided that my trusty henchman had gotten away with it. by the time we had packed our cameras again the wagons had caught up with us and we went on. the spot i had picked for the camp was under a small grove of palm trees across a little stream, and we arrived there to find that the six carriers had started a fire. it was about midnight when our wagons reached camp, and soon after we rolled up in our blankets and dropped off to sleep just where we stood. next morning we started down the steep slopes into the valley of heaven. this was a very dangerous descent for the wagons, so that it was after midday before we reached the floor of the valley. the poor donkeys were completely exhausted, and we camped there until next day. the valley of heaven was certainly living up to its name. it was never so lovely, and my companions were enthusiastic in its praise. i pointed out to them the place of execution and sheba's breasts as we came down the mountain, and they immediately decided they would visit both before returning to ermelo. although i remember the beauties of the valley of heaven as though it were yesterday, still the difficulties that befell us there made me at that time regard it as the "valley of hell." we had come down about two thousand feet and the climate was hot, moist, and uncomfortable. our energy was sapped, the donkeys were worn out, and our kaffir boys were lazy beyond all use. the trail ahead consisted of a succession of low hills cut by little streams. many of the inclines were steep, and i estimated that we would be lucky if we made five or six miles a day. it was practically impossible to judge distance, and this led me into error. i had picked out a camping spot seemingly about six miles away, and sugden and i started to walk to it. the grass was six feet high in most places and full of deadly snakes. few of the little streams were fit to drink, and the farther we walked the farther the chosen spot seemed to recede. finally we saw a fair-sized stream which we thought was two miles away, but which turned out to be nearer four. when we reached it we drank, after straining the water through our handkerchiefs. we were very hot and uncomfortable, and were made supremely unhappy by the realization that the wagon could not reach us for at least two days. there was nothing to do but go back, and we finally reached the outfit at sunset. the donkeys were completely exhausted, so we camped right there. i realized that for the last thirty miles before reaching the royal kraal at zombode we would be lucky if we made three or four miles a day. because of this experience i changed our trek time. instead of trying to make it in daylight, we did most of our traveling by dark. this helped a little, but we failed to make more than a mile every two hours, even when the going was good. to add to the misery of the trek, the mosquitoes tormented us continually. however, these pests introduced a little comedy into our suffering, for my companions would recall the mosquitoes of new jersey, u. s. a. and compare them with those of south africa. crespinell summed up the comparison when he said: "for brutality and ruthlessness these 'skeeters take the biscuit, but the new jersey breed have got 'em skinned a mile when it comes to technique!" at the end of five days of untold hardships we climbed out of the valley of heaven and reached the stream that divides the royal from the common ground at zombode. we arrived there at about nine o'clock at night. fires were burning in front of many of the huts and there was a hum of life in the air. the sounds were all the more noticeable because no one appeared to have any intention of meeting us or giving us a welcome. we pitched camp and din prepared the evening meal. by this time we had a score of little visitors, all swazi children of about ten or twelve years of age. usually these little beggars are in bed at this time of night, but the noise of our wagons had aroused them and they had sneaked out of the huts to investigate. none of the indunas, warriors, or women came near us, and i soon realized that we were in disfavor for some reason or other. only a direct command from lomwazi or the old queen would have made the people avoid us in this manner. however, it was not fitting that i should visit the royal kraal without invitation, so i did not stir from our camp that night. in the morning i announced my arrival to labotsibeni without the indignity of supplicating an interview. this came about in a peculiar manner. shortly after dawn i was awakened by the deep bass of a native who seemingly was greatly annoyed. the voice was strangely familiar, but i could not place it for the moment. in a little while sibijaan came into the tent with my coffee and announced that i had a visitor. "ou baas, there is a great induna outside," he said, "and he wants to see you. he says he is very angry. shall i tell him to go to hell?" thirsting for information regarding things at the royal kraal, i bade sibijaan send him in. this my old playmate did with poor grace, since he would have preferred to be cheeky to the chief. to my surprise, manaan--he of the savings-bank account--strode in. he was carrying his war tools and stood facing me for an instant in quite a belligerent attitude. i was wearing only a thin bathrobe and for a second or two the angry black man faced the white. then the age-old supremacy of race asserted itself and manaan dropped his eyes with the familiar "nkoos!" "what the devil is the matter with you?" i demanded angrily. "why do you make all this row so early in the morning?" "peace, nkoos, peace!" the old induna answered. "i did not know that it was you. i would not have made talk if i had known." then he went on to explain that our donkeys had strayed across the stream during the night and had ruined his corn patch. he insisted that the poor beasts had eaten all the young corn and that he and all his wives faced starvation during the coming year. what he really was worried about, it developed, was that there would be no corn to make tswala and in consequence he would have to go without his beer until a new crop came in. i sympathized with him and told him that i would go over and see the damage as soon as i was up and about, agreeing to pay him for it. i felt sure that he was lying, but did not want to make an enemy of him, since i knew that he was said to be close to labotsibeni. in the olden days he was leader of one of buno's crack impis and was a noted warrior. in a little while i accompanied him to look at the ruined crop, and, as i suspected, found he had lied like a kaffir. the damage was about three shillings worth, and i told him so and offered to pay him the money. he became very indignant. "this is not right, nkoos!" he almost shouted. "i am a great induna and cannot be treated in this way. i am one of the queen's most important chiefs and i shall report this injustice to her." now this threat suited me. if the old fool reported that i was robbing him, he would also be notifying labotsibeni that i was in the neighborhood. "i am willing to abide by what the queen decides," i said. "you tell her that i await her word. i shall state my side to her, and you can state yours!" this was what i really wanted. it would bring me before the old queen and allow me to ask her about the coronation. with this understanding manaan left for the royal kraal, while i went to breakfast. shortly after we had finished, manaan returned. "i have seen the queen," he announced in an important manner, "and she is much offended because you have treated manaan so unjustly. she says that you must pay me five shillings and a bottle of gin, and then the debt will be satisfied." to make the payment seem greater i protested for a moment and then gave it to the old fellow. i asked him how the queen was, but he answered evasively. this brought the suspicion that he had not seen labotsibeni at all and had concocted the story about her decision as to the payment. manaan would have been quite capable of this because he had lived for some time among the whites in johannesburg and had been schooled in guile. nevertheless, i was satisfied that he had brought word to the royal kraal that i was there, and i expected that i would soon receive a message from the queen to come and see her. when the sun showed that it was nearly noon i decided to force her hand and sent sibijaan with presents, which means gin, to the royal kraal. he returned presently, saying that lomwazi had taken them from him and that they had been accepted by the queen. sunset came and yet there was no word from the old lady, and i began to grow anxious. i sent for manaan and cultivated him in an attempt to get some information. he soon became drunk and told me many little things, none of which threw much light on my problem. one statement, however, was important. "all the people, except lomwazi and a few of those close to the queen, want sebuza to be king," he said. "they are tired of being ruled by a queen, and lomwazi asks too much. he always wants more cattle and corn from each kraal, and the people are dissatisfied. even now they are waiting for sebuza to come down out of the mountains and it is said they will demand that he be made king then!" part of this was very interesting. i was glad to know that the people wanted sebuza, but i doubted that they would dare to ask for him to be appointed king. the swazis are subservient to their rulers and it was unthinkable that they would assume to ask labotsibeni to abdicate. they were very afraid of the old queen; she seemed to exert some sort of extraordinary influence over them. it was cheering, however, to know that i had public opinion on my side. chapter xvi labotsibeni refuses to see me--sugden and my men escape assassination--a fruitless conference--we flee to lebombo--oom tuys turns up--we confer with queen tzaneen and lochien--five-and-ten-cent- store jewelry has persuasive powers--sugden falls ill--we build his coffin--sebuza returns from his sanctification. next morning i got up, pocketed my pride, and decided to call on queen labotsibeni. when i reached the entrance of the royal kraal i was met by lomwazi. he was furtive in manner and did not look me in the eyes. his voice, as usual, was quite low, and for once his dramatic gestures were lacking. i demanded to be allowed to see labotsibeni. lomwazi shook his head and spread out his hands deprecatingly. "the queen will not see you, nkoos," he said, "and she sends word that you are not to camp on the royal ground." "but why won't she see me? i bring her presents and much gin," i protested. "she promised that i should attend the coronation of prince sebuza!" "she is very, very old, but still she doesn't want to die," added the wily lomwazi, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. at last i understood. lomwazi had let the cat out of the bag and the delay in the coronation of sebuza explained itself. tempted by the great price i had offered for the picture rights--five hundred cattle, five hundred gallons of gin, and five hundred pounds in gold--the old queen had overlooked the fact that sebuza's accession to the throne meant her death. at the time i made the bargain with her, or with lomwazi as her agent, she had consoled herself with the thought that the british government would be able to save her life. now she was afraid that the government might not be able to do so and wanted the coronation delayed indefinitely, or put off for good. labotsibeni and lomwazi were in an uncomfortable position. they faced either the certainty of being sacrificed when sebuza mounted the throne or the breaking of their contract with me. in addition, the sentiment of the people of swaziland was against the old ruler and lomwazi must have known it. under labotsibeni there had been more than twenty years of peace, and there had grown up a feeling that the nation was becoming decadent without a war, if only a little one against some inferior tribe. the british had backed the old queen in all her moves toward keeping peace within her borders, and the fighting men of swaziland were unhappy at not having any opportunities to show their mettle. from the days of ama-swazi the swazis had been a warlike people, and the bloodthirsty buno had developed their ferocity by frequent raids and forays on neighboring tribes. the accession of sebuza, young and warlike, made the swazis feel that they would have a real leader again, and the fact that the crown prince was the son of buno added to their desire for him to reign. i had left oom tuys in ermelo with the understanding that he would join us in zombode. i began to wish he would show up, since i seemed to be butting my stubborn boer head against a brick wall and my uncle was the one white man in all the transvaal in whom old labotsibeni placed her trust. i knew that she would not refuse to see him and there was a chance of his getting her to agree to the coronation. realizing that we were in for a delay that might last several months, dr. sugden and his companions decided to study the swazis at close range and compile data concerning the tribe. to me was left the politics and "wangling" of the expedition, while they started out blithely one morning to catch swazis. their expedition was abortive, to put it mildly. of course sugden would only be content with swazi life as exhibited in the royal kraal, and it was there that he decided to begin. i did not know this, and thought that he was going to visit some of the little kraals where the indunas lived. i was sitting in my tent thinking about sending a man to find tuys, when sibijaan came running in very much excited. "ou baas, mlung emantzi eenui, makofa, and the other white man are going to be killed at the royal kraal!" he cried. now sugden was called mlung emantzi eenui--"the man of living and burning words"--by the kaffirs, and crespinell was given the name of makofa, which means "the small alert one." the other white man was rossman, of course. i sprang out of the tent, across the little stream, and ran to the royal kraal. there i found my companions surrounded by a full impi of warriors who had hemmed them in with their assegais. the white men had drawn their revolvers and were ready to use them. it only remained for some one to make a sudden break and there would be a killing. "make way! make way!" i yelled, diving through the throng. in a second or two i reached sugden, who had the grim look that means fight. he had lomwazi covered with his revolver and i could see that the induna would be the first to go if the shooting started. "what's all this trouble?" i demanded, as though i were the chief of all. "why are these warlike manoeuvers? why have these warriors stopped my men?" lomwazi hesitated for a moment, during which i could see the tension relax and the swazis begin to drop their spear-points. "it is forbidden that white men enter the royal kraal," the chief said. "these men tried to force their way in. they said they wanted to see all things in the kraal. the queen sent her own impi to stop them and gave orders that they were to be killed if they did not go away!" sugden was much disgusted, and gave his side of the affair. "i only wanted to take a look around," he said. "we were just inside the kraal when these men came running from every direction and surrounded us. i thought we would have to fight our way out and would have popped some of them off if lomwazi had not come up. he told us to get out, and here we are!" that seemed to be all there was to it. however, it was a bad affair, as it put me in the position of trying to break into the queen's kraal without permission. later i realized that it did not make much difference, since we were out of favor at zombode anyway. i was well nigh desperate now. it seemed as though nothing could be accomplished through labotsibeni or lomwazi, but i decided to make one last appeal to him. i sent him a present by sibijaan and asked that he come and see me at my camp. my boy brought back word that lomwazi would see me next morning, but would meet me at the crossing of the little stream. "when the sun reaches the royal kraal" was the time set, which must have been about seven or seven-fifteen o'clock. the stream was only a short distance from our camp, and i watched until i saw lomwazi coming to the rendezvous. i had expected that he would arrive with four or five of his indunas, and i had arranged that all my white companions should accompany me to the interview. instead, lomwazi brought practically the whole royal impi with him. the savages were in full war costume and made a splendid picture as they marched, the sun reflecting from their black shoulders and assegais. it was the first time that sugden and the others had seen a whole impi in all its glory and they were much impressed. the warriors were drawn up in a sort of regimental formation at the meeting-place, with lomwazi waiting in front, by the time i decided we should leave our tents. since they had come armed to the conference, my companions and i shouldered our rifles--we always wore revolvers--and walked in a leisurely manner toward the little stream. as we came close lomwazi raised his arms in greeting and the impi gave us the royal salute. it was the first time in some years that i had been thus honored. the shrill whistle following the heavy stamp of the thousand feet gave the americans a real thrill. lomwazi and i shook hands in a formal way and then sat down to talk things over. i little thought that this would be the last friendly conference i would have with him. behind me sat my three companions, while behind the vizier sat four or five of his high men, all lesser indunas and leaders of warriors. it was an imposing gathering, much like many out of which peace has come during the various savage wars between the whites and kaffirs in the transvaal. after the necessary conventional amenities, which have to do with health and the condition of wives, i came to the main question, but from a widely different angle. "lomwazi, you and queen labotsibeni made a paper with me that shows i gave you five hundred cows, five hundred gallons of gin, and five hundred pounds in gold for the right to take pictures of the coronation of sebuza," i began. "now the queen will not see me and you will not tell me the truth when i want to know about the coronation. other indunas have told me that you and the queen have plotted to prevent sebuza becoming king--" "nkoos, that is not so!" lomwazi returned hotly, interrupting me. "we wish sebuza to become king and will do nothing to prevent it. it is the government that does not wish him to become king; it is the government, and not my mother, labotsibeni!" this i knew to be partly true, but i felt sure that the government would be willing that sebuza should reign if the change in rulers was accomplished without bloodshed. "then if the government refuses to let sebuza be king," i went on, "you and the queen have obtained much wealth from me for something you knew you could not give. there is only one thing for me to do--that is, to hold you and the queen liable for the price of the rights she granted me. i shall notify the government at mbabane and ask that it collect the money value of what you received from me. i am a friend of the government and close to the commissioner, and he will send to johannesburg for troops who will come and collect from you. if you do not care to have me do this, you can make restitution now by giving me the price in cows." now this meant that lomwazi would have to round up at least two thousand head of cattle and turn them over to me. this i knew he could do, but i also knew that he would not do it without such compulsion as i was unable to bring. he glanced keenly at me while i laid down the terms of my ultimatum and saw that i was in dead earnest. with his great cunning, lomwazi is a keen judge of human nature, and he watched me to see if i was bluffing or not. he decided that i was not and listened in silence to the end. then he raised his eyes and spoke in the same low, level tone he always used. "nkoos, what you ask is unjust," he said. "labotsibeni gave the word of a swazi queen and her word cannot be broken. you will have the opportunity you have bought and i shall see that it is so!" "yes? then how soon will sebuza be crowned?" i asked. "when queen labotsibeni, mother of buno, gives the word the ceremonies will take place," he said, and this ended the interview. lomwazi threw his leopardskin cloak about his shoulders and rose, and i got to my feet also, feeling that i had gone as far as i could, but had gained nothing. the indunas shook hands and the impi gave their salute as he raised his arms with the salutation, "nkoos!" then he turned and went back to the royal kraal followed by the great warriors, their plumes nodding in the sunlight. i realized that i had come to the end of my string at zombode. the old queen would not give the word for the coronation to take place and undoubtedly lomwazi was behind her refusal. looking back, i do not blame them very much; the coronation would be their death warrant and the government was not prepared to send troops to protect them. that night i had a little talk with sugden, who was feeling ill, explaining to him what we were up against. "it looks as if we are out of luck," was his comment, "but there must be some way to beat the game. i'd hate to lose out, now that we're here. it seems to me that you ought to be able to find a way to prevent lomwazi from sitting on the lid much longer. let's see if we can't get action by talking to the other indunas." this did not seem a good plan to me. sugden did not know these people and underestimated the power of the old queen. she represented the established order of things, and the government always objected to anything new, particularly in the way of rulers. "no, i can't agree to that scheme," i told him; "but i believe i will have a look at the other side of this game. queen tzaneen is reported to be much incensed because labotsibeni doesn't allow the coronation and i think i will have an interview with her." having taken this decision, i made arrangements to start for lebombo, the royal kraal of queen tzaneen and her son, the next morning as soon as it was light enough to trek. that night the donkeys were all driven in, so that they would be ready when wanted. during the weeks we had spent at zombode these poor animals had greatly improved. there was good feed and water there, and they looked sleek and fresh again. dawn saw us on the road to lebombo. camp for breakfast was made on the bank of the little river that separates the land belonging to the two villages, and we came in sight of the kraals after about two hours. our reception here was very different. lochien, who was the vizier, or secretary of state, of queen tzaneen, and one of the sons of king buno, her late husband, came out to meet us. he had a number of indunas with him and was most cordial. his first words gave me great pleasure. "welcome, nkoos," he said. "welcome to lebombo! last night the white king of swaziland came to lebombo and waits for you at the royal kraal." this was good news, indeed. oom tuys had arrived and was waiting for me! i thanked my stars that he had not gone to zombode and thus missed me. at last it began to look as though we would get some action. a few minutes later, our great wagon creaking and the boys shouting to the donkeys, we approached the kraals and i saw a solitary figure coming out to meet us. it was a tall heavy white man, long bearded and wide-hatted, with the rolling gait of one whose only home is the saddle--oom tuys grobler, my uncle, the "white king of swaziland." he threw his great arms about me and gave me a "bear hug," and then held me at arms' length and looked me over. "so you are all right, mzaan bakoor?" he asked in his gruff voice. "this morning a kaffir came and said that last night a plan was made to stop you from coming here, and i was anxious. i only heard about it a few minutes ago, and was on the point of starting for zombode when the runners came and said you were near." this was news to me. i did not know that lomwazi had decided to prevent me from going to lebombo. it showed that he was afraid to have me learn the truth from tzaneen and lochien. i was thankful that we had not had trouble, for our patience was well nigh exhausted and there would have been a battle if labotsibeni's men had tried to bar our path. i asked tuys about the lay of the land at tzaneen's kraal, and he told me that she was very much excited over the situation. "the queen mother is very angry at labotsibeni," he said. "it is another case of the mother-in-law over again. tzaneen feels that the old lady will hang on to the throne as long as she lives, and as she is now in her second hundred years that is likely to be a long time. only last night tzaneen reminded me of the swazi saying, 'if you live to be a hundred, you live forever,' and she spoke of labotsibeni with bitterness. "sebuza will soon return from the mountains and it will be a national scandal for him to have to wait for his kingdom. his mother is frantic over the situation and even talks of taking the throne by force. of course such things have been done,"--and he smiled--"but i told her that the government would not stand for such action." lochien then told us that the sanctification ceremonies were about ended and sebuza would return within the next week. as these ceremonies also included the coming of age of the young crown prince, he was attended by the chief witch-doctors and made to undergo scarification and circumcision. he had to live on the barren slopes of the mountains, his only food being wild berries and the game he killed himself. only the witch-doctors could visit him, and their visits were official and hedged about with much flummery and hocus-pocus. tzaneen was waiting to see us when we reached the royal kraal, and i immediately sent her the regulation presents. a little while later lochien ushered tuys and me into her presence. she is a remarkable woman and has a very sweet and charming personality. tall and splendidly formed, she is an ideal swazi queen, just as she was the pick of the zulu princesses at the time she became the royal wife of buno. her head is large and well shaped, and she has an active brain. with education, tzaneen would have been a leader anywhere in the world. her greeting to us was gracious and cordial. she asked if we had brought our wagons and camp outfit, and said she would send an impi to get them and bring them to lebombo from zombode if we had not. this gave me a clue to the feeling between the two queens, because i knew that labotsibeni must have been annoyed when she learned that our entire outfit had left for the rival camp. after i had assured tzaneen that we had arrived bag and baggage, lochien introduced the subject of our mission to swaziland. in this he seemed to have the approval of tzaneen, who listened closely to my answers. i told them that i intended staying in the country until i had seen sebuza crowned, and this statement met their approval. but there was a fly in the ointment, i found. "queen tzaneen is the rightful ruler of swaziland," lochien announced, "because she is the royal widow of king buno. she is the mother of prince sebuza, who will soon be king. you want to see sebuza made king and wish to look at the ceremonies with the black boxes on legs that you have with you. is this not so?" evidently he had heard about the cameras we had brought with us. "yes, that is so," i assured him. "these black boxes make all things live again so that everybody may see them, and we want to show all people that swaziland has a son of buno for king." "then, nkoos, why did you pay lomwazi and queen labotsibeni all the money, cows, and gin for the right to use the black boxes?" lochien asked. the truth was out. they were jealous because labotsibeni and lomwazi had received the purchase price of the picture rights, while they had been ignored. i was thinking quickly and was about to smooth matters over, when oom tuys broke in. "mzaan bakoor has not yet paid you for your permission to do this thing he desires," he assured them. "he could not come to lebombo before, but now he is ready to pay you even more than he gave labotsibeni and lomwazi." "the white king speaks truly," i added. "even now i have in my wagons more precious and more beautiful presents than i gave to them. these presents i brought from america, across the great water of which you have heard. i bought them in the greatest city of the world and have carried them here for you, nkosikaas!" this was a tall statement, but i knew that i could make good on it. tzaneen was much interested and her curiosity was whetted. we dickered a little more, and i agreed to pay them a large amount of gin and a certain sum of money. then, to avoid any further demands, i ended by going to the wagon and getting one of the mysterious packing-cases. this i opened before queen tzaneen. very slowly i began taking from it quantities of the five-and-ten-cent-store jewelry. it fascinated her beyond words. she put it on, draping the tawdry necklaces about her full throat and loading her fingers with the gaudy rings. she was completely won over, and lochien also was deeply impressed. so peace was restored on the subject of the price of the picture rights. now the road was clear for taking the pictures, that is, if we could find the place of coronation of the savage king. tuys motioned to me to leave soon after the jewelry episode, and we went back to our wagons. "one thing at a time, owen," he said. "you wanted to ask about the coronation, i know, but we'd better wait until to-morrow. i want to see how the land lies and find out what is going on before we force that issue. to-morrow we'll see tzaneen again and find out what she plans to do about sebuza." lochien soon came to the wagons and told us that it was the queen's pleasure that we camp a few hundred yards from sebuza's kraal, which adjoined that of his mother. the spot chosen was in a small grove of tall trees among which were buried indunas who had died at lebombo ever since the village was founded. this was a great honor to us, since it was sacred ground, the most sacred in the land with the exception of "the caves" near zombode, where only kings and queens are buried. [illustration: dr o'neil and companions are received by queen tzaneen they had come to discuss the possibility of ceasing hostilities. as is the custom, she treated them to tswala and drank first from the calabash to show that it contained no poison] [illustration: dr. o'neil, queen tzaneen, dr. sugden, and mr. crespinell while sebuza the crown prince was still in the mountains conforming with the religious rites on attaining his manhood dr. o'neil realized that both the british government and queen labotsibeni were antagonistic to sebuza and wished to repudiate his right to the throne] [illustration: wives of the prime minister to sebuza] [illustration: queen tzaneen and lochien she was a zulu princess and is the only royal widow of the famous king buno who had, in all, twenty-six wives. she is the mother of crown prince sebuza. lochien is her adviser in addition to being sebuza's _chargé d'affaires_ and commander-in-chief of all his impis] that night i became greatly worried over dr. sugden's condition. the water he drank in the valley of heaven had caused fever and violent dysentery, and he had rapidly grown worse during the last forty-eight hours. the heat during the day was severe, and it seemed to affect him so that he was hardly able to recover at night. i had given him medicine and done everything i could for him, but nothing seemed to help much. it was very discouraging to have him ill, because his unfailing optimism and ready wit had helped us over many a hard place. next day tuys and i called on the queen, and were received as cordially as before. as usual, she was surrounded by maids and other women of her kraal, and it was interesting to note how affectionate they were toward her. she is the best liked woman in swaziland without a doubt, and this is strange, since it is seldom that these savage women display any affection for one another. we asked her how soon sebuza would be made king. her face darkened at the question and i could see that it touched a sore spot. "until my son, sebuza, returns from the mountains this matter is in the hands of queen labotsibeni, whom the government recognizes as regent," she answered. "but when the prince is a man and is ready for the throne, perhaps there will be a change!" i asked her what she meant, but she refused to be drawn out. instead, she told us about her last attempt to arrange for the coronation. "only seven days ago," she said, "i sent men to see the old queen and ask her how soon she would be ready to surrender the throne. she refused to see them, so they gave their message to lomwazi. he told them that labotsibeni would let them know when she was ready, and then dismissed them." "when they left the royal kraal at zombode many of the warriors made menacing gestures toward them, and they came back glad to escape with their lives. that is labotsibeni's answer to the mother of the rightful king of swaziland and the royal widow of king buno!" she was very indignant. after a little conversation, during which we complimented her, as was proper, we withdrew. i noticed that there was a gin-bottle in the corner of the royal hut and realized that tzaneen was not different from other kaffir royalty. sugden was very low when we returned. he was the finest sort of patient, however, for the worse became his physical condition, the more determined he was that he would live. he kept murmuring, "don't give up the ship!" but i could see that he would hardly last until morning. i called crespinell and rossman into my tent and explained how sick the doctor was, telling them that i feared he did not have a chance. his cheery way of looking at things had fooled them, and they were shocked when i told them that i did not expect we would have him with us much longer. "i've done everything for him that i can," i explained, "but i can't get his fever down or stop his dysentery. he is so weak now that it is only a question of hours before he leaves swaziland for good. "there is something i want you fellows to do, however. i shall remain with him all night and will call you if he wants to make a will or say anything. we've got to bury him like a white man, and i want you to knock a coffin together. take some of the boards from the packing-cases and the big wagon and fix a decent sort of box. don't do any hammering where he might hear you, because he's keyed up and might suspect what you were doing." a few minutes later i saw them sneaking off among the trees, with several of the black boys loaded down with boards. we were all blue over sugden's illness and the thought that he was dying cast a gloom over the party that nothing could lift. that was a bad night. sugden seemed to get weaker and weaker, and soon i was keeping him alive with brandy. tuys and i sat beside him in turn, and the old boer was as distressed as the rest of us. "he is such a fighting devil," he said in a whisper, when i came to relieve him shortly before dawn. "a few moments ago he opened his eyes and croaked that he was going back to new york when this expedition was over and have 'one hell of a time.' i told him that i'd go with him, and he began to tell me what we'd do. right in the middle of a sentence he fainted through weakness. when i brought him to with brandy, he opened his eyes and smiled at me!" dawn found sugden still hanging on. i marveled at the vitality of the man. his body was wasted to a mere shell, but his courage burned bright and undiminished. shortly after sun-up i realized that he was likely to live another day, but that seemed the most we could hope for. while i was at breakfast an induna came from lochien with word that sebuza had left the mountains and was on his way to lebombo. this was exciting news, and i went over to the royal kraal to get details. lochien told me that the sanctification ceremonies were over and that the crown prince was to arrive that morning. "we are almost afraid to see him, nkoos," he said. "he is now ready for the coronation and will expect us to have all things waiting for him." i could see that tzaneen and her trusted vizier were in a nervous condition. sebuza was a reckless, impatient young savage and would be much put out at any delay. the royal kraal was in a ferment of excitement, and the warriors in sebuza's kraal were chanting and dancing in preparation for the welcome to their commander. i returned to the wagons, realizing that, being a white man and an outsider, i was not wanted at the royal kraal when sebuza arrived. i would see him when he sent for me, but until then i must remain quiet and control my impatience. shortly before noon i saw the impis of both tzaneen and sebuza forming in lines outside the kraals. they were dressed in their most gorgeous costumes. the indunas and leaders wore the leopardskin cloaks, and all had on their great plumed headdresses. i felt that sebuza must be close at hand, and it was not more than fifteen minutes before both impis began to dance. this they continued for a short time, and then came to a sudden stop. there was utter silence and at length i saw the crown prince striding down the road, followed by at least a dozen witch-doctors. these halted some distance behind. sebuza came to a stop in front of his impi and raised his hands. instantly the thousand warriors raised their shields and war-clubs above their heads and the deep-throated shout "nkoos!" rang out. this was followed by the thunder of their feet and then the air was split by the shrill whistle. three times they gave the royal salute, sebuza standing like a statue. then, strutting like a turkey-cock, the young prince passed through his men into his kraal. the witch-doctors followed, and then the indunas went in. finally his warriors broke ranks and this concluded the homecoming of the son of buno. the impi of tzaneen still remained on duty in front of the royal kraal, and i waited to see what they would do. in a little while i saw lochien go into the prince's kraal, and shortly after he and sebuza came out together. sebuza pointed to our wagons, and i could see lochien telling him about us. then they went to the queen's kraal and her warriors gave sebuza the royal salute, which he received in the same manner as before, standing motionless before them. after sebuza had entered the kraal the impi dispersed. i returned to sugden's side, to find him wide awake and talking faintly. he seemed weaker than before, and i expected he would cease speaking forever any moment. crespinell and rossman were with him, and he was trying to tell them some of the stories of the far north which he had seen acted out when he was a surgeon in the northwest mounted police. his grip on life was extraordinary. here he was living over in spirit the wild days in the frozen north, while his body was practically dead and his coffin lay behind the wagon! i was standing thus, quite overcome by the situation, when sibijaan pulled my sleeve. "ou baas, lochien is here and wants to talk to you," he said. "he has a message from the queen." outside i found the induna dressed up in his war costume and carrying his arms. he greeted me very formally and then told me that tzaneen wished me to attend a conference between sebuza and herself, asking me to bring oom tuys along. after delivering his message lochien unbent and we had a few words together concerning sebuza. he informed me that the prince was much annoyed that his throne was not ready and was eager to pay an armed visit to labotsibeni. tuys and i were received with royal honors when we reached the queen's kraal. there was the usual delay in observing the proper formalities, and then we entered the royal hut, to find sebuza sitting by his mother. tzaneen was as cordial as usual and seemed proud to have the future king by her side. sebuza, whom tuys told me later was the perfect picture of buno in his youth, was haughty and seemed suffering acutely from a sense of his own importance. he was wearing a peculiar headdress and several strings of the five-and-ten-cent store beads i had given his mother. since we were in the presence of royalty, it was not fitting that we begin conversation, except to receive and give the usual greetings. tzaneen started the ball rolling. "my noble son," she said, turning to the prince, "these are the white men who were the friends of your father, the great king buno. the big one with a beard is oom tuys, whom buno called 'the white king of swaziland' and whom your father made the guide and guardian of our people when he died. the other, he of the shaven face, is mzaan bakoor, who makes wonderful magic with little black boxes on thin legs. the white men are our friends and come to lebombo to assist in your coronation." during this introduction sebuza regarded us keenly, and his scrutiny seemed to satisfy him. when tzaneen had finished oom tuys made a little speech. "sebuza, son of buno and of tzaneen, rightful queen of swaziland," he said impressively, "your father at his death made me your guardian, and i promised him that i would watch over and protect you. i am 'the white king of swaziland' and the government holds me responsible for all that takes place here. with my nephew, mzaan bakoor, i have come to see you placed on the throne of your father. we have pledged ourselves to assist you in every way, except to provoke war. we shall remain here until you have been made king." tuys said much more than this, but what i have translated is about the sense of all of it. sebuza thawed quickly, once he had found out what we were in lebombo for, and then we all had a pleasant talk. he asked innumerable questions and was much interested in what had happened at zombode. his answer to one of my questions was very typical. i had asked him how many people were his subjects in swaziland. he thought for a moment, and then answered, "mzaan bakoor, can you count the blades of grass in a field?" the interview ended immediately after we informed sebuza that we had presents for him in our wagons. he said that he wanted to see our outfit and would go with us, and a few moments later we all left for the camp. several indunas accompanied us, and the stately head witch-doctor, l'tunga, also went with us. i regarded this as rather impertinent, but was very glad of his presence shortly. crespinell and rossman were much interested in sebuza and were only too willing to gratify his curiosity concerning the "little black magic boxes on thin legs." they took a number of pictures of him, some of which filled him with awe when they were given to him next day. i produced a box of the "jewelry" and presented it to him with a great flourish. he was fairly overcome by its gorgeousness. soon he had bedecked himself much after the fashion of a christmas tree and strutted about like a peacock. tuys told me to "go slow with the gin," so i only gave him a few bottles. strange as it may appear, sebuza was not enthusiastic about the liquor, and later i found that l'tunga had taught him that it was a kind of "white man's poison." chapter xvii l'tunga's "muti" cures the sick white man--sebuza chooses his wives--i receive a message from his majesty's high commissioner for swaziland--a flying trip to mbabane--the government refuses sanction to sebuza's coronation--how witch-doctors smoke dagga weed. sugden was wide awake when we reached the camp and despite his condition was overcome with curiosity. he could see nothing, being shut in by the tent-walls, and was too weak to get up and look out. suddenly, while we were watching sebuza enjoy his ornaments, i saw the side of the tent being feebly punched from within. i raised the flap, and there was sugden regarding us with his fever-bright eyes. he hated to be left out of the party and had signaled for me to count him in. i went to him, but my heart sank. he was the sickest man i have ever seen. except for his blazing eyes, he had all the look of a dead man. every one looked at us, and a second later l'tunga leaned over me and asked what was the matter with the "sick white man." i held sugden's poor head in my arms as i told him. the witch-doctor nodded and then straightened up. "nkoos, i will cure him!" he said. "i will make a magic that will make him well. i go, but i will come back soon and bring the muti." he left, and i laid sugden down and pulled the tent flap. he was exhausted by his effort to join the party and was nodding with the sleep that was nigh unto death. now i was very curious about the "muti" of the witch-doctor. i knew that their rites and rituals were all humbug dressed up in feathers, but every now and then they did something that was quite amazing. it was certain that they knew things about the herbs of their country that we white men did not, and i never felt sure that they were the fakirs we thought them to be. in a few minutes l'tunga returned, and this time he carried a wand tipped with feathers. he stood for a moment regarding us, and then went to the side of the tent and drew up the flap, showing poor old sugden asleep but barely alive. then l'tunga motioned me to help him move the cot out into the sunlight. carefully, for this savage was as gentle as a woman, we placed sugden with his head facing the sun, and then l'tunga got busy. we stood back to give him room, and he certainly needed it. he started to dance and chant, circling the sick bed and waving his wand round and round. i could not understand what he chanted, but it seemed to be something about it being time for the "devil" to leave the sick white man, since he, l'tunga, had come. this ceremony must have lasted fully fifteen minutes, and sugden slept through it all. i watched his breathing, for i was afraid that he would not live. the show ended with the witch-doctor picking up a handful of dust and holding it to sugden's nostrils. after a moment he threw the dust to the winds and then drew from his loin-cloth a small package wrapped in skin. this he undid, and then asked for "emantzi, emantzi," meaning water. crespinell brought him a little mug full of it, and he poured all but a few tablespoonfuls on the ground. then he took some of the contents of the little package and mixed it with the water in the mug. i had been thinking rapidly. he could not hurt sugden, since the white man was beyond all human aid, and was only living through sheer will power. there was a faint chance that he might do him good, and i made up my mind to let the witch-doctor alone. a moment later l'tunga had forced sugden to drink the contents of the mug. immediately he dropped off to sleep, as though drugged. after watching him a moment l'tunga turned to me and said: "at sunrise to-morrow i will come and give him more muti. in three or four days he will be well!" then, with all the dignity of a great civilized specialist, he shouldered his magic wand and withdrew. sebuza and the rest of us had watched his operations with great interest, and the young prince left shortly after, his indunas carrying the "jewelry" and gin. we were all curious to see the effect of the witch-doctor's prescription, and had quite an argument about it. i found that tuys was sure that it would cure sugden, and both crespinell and rossman were inclined to agree with him. i remained skeptical and sent for sibijaan to ask him what he thought. i knew that my old playmate was in touch with many things that a white man could not know and i asked him about the "muti" that l'tunga had given sugden. "ou baas, it is a magic leaf," he told me, "and only the head witch-doctor knows where it grows. they say it is found in only one place, and that is near sheba's breasts. he gets it when the moon dies, and always goes alone. but it will cure 'mlung emantzi eenui. the 'muti' is only for royalty and some of the great indunas. l'tunga would not give it to the common people." he was so certain that the medicine would save sugden that i began to find myself half-believing that it would. that night i sat by the latter's bedside for many hours. he never stirred. all night long he slept as though heavily drugged, never once making a move. next morning the fever had much abated and his pulse was nearly normal. he did not awake, however, and when l'tunga arrived to give him another dose, he only came to enough to swallow it. i noted, though, that the dysentery had stopped. four days later sugden was well. he was weak as a cat, but food soon remedied that, and within ten days he was on the job and as cheerful as ever. i made up my mind from that time on not to scoff at witch-doctors. i tried to get l'tunga to give me a little of his "muti," but this he resolutely refused to do, even when i offered to buy it with all sorts of things dear to the savage heart. some day i am going to get some of that "muti" and have it analyzed; it may be a drug that will be of value to all of us who live in that section of south africa. during sugden's recuperation tuys and i had visited the royal kraal every day and had always had pleasant talks with both sebuza and his mother. but we did not succeed in getting any nearer to the coronation. the queen was entirely at a loss what to do and sebuza kept growing more impatient every day. as he was a man now, he felt entitled to start housekeeping, and his mother set about procuring wives for him. lochien assisted in this delicate operation, and it was rather an interesting event. the swazis follow about the same procedure in this business as their civilized white brethren. the only difference is that the swazi method does not employ so much camouflage. the fact that sebuza had reached manhood and would soon become king was known throughout practically all the savage tribes of south africa, though it naturally was of paramount interest in his own country. all the indunas and his relations, such as umzulek, debeseembie, vilakazi, and others, knew that he would have to have wives. their children were logical candidates for this honor, so that there were many conferences at lebombo between tzaneen and those who had daughters to sell. now the swazi, from the highest to the lowest, sells his women. women are the "pound sterling" among all the savage tribes, and the unit of value is five cows for an average maid who is young, sound in limb and wind, and trained to the primitive duties of her race. these consist chiefly in ability to do a decent day's work in the fields, the making of tswala, and the cleaning of a hut or kraal. of course the care of children is considered important. a swazi's wealth is measured by the number of wives he has. the number of his cows and other livestock is secondary. for instance, umzulek is regarded as a millionaire because he has sixty wives and more than two hundred and forty children. the average swazi induna has five or more wives, and some have many more. the price of a woman depends greatly on her birth and beauty. all the swazi women have fine bodies, and many are very handsome, according to the native standard. princesses sell for as much as fifty cows apiece, and a wife is always proud if she brings more than the market price. in fact, her importance as a wife is usually based on her purchase price. when the time arrived for sebuza to choose some wives, there were quite a number awaiting his inspection. the morning that he looked them over they were assembled in the "sacred bathing pool," a sort of market-place. their owners, mostly parents, stood beside the crown prince and extolled the virtues of their offspring. the maidens were lined up along the banks of the pool and the prince examined them most minutely. it was almost pathetic to see how these dusky belles bore up under his inspection. each looked appealingly at sebuza, much after the fashion of a dog that hopes to be petted, and almost quivered with the hope that she would be selected. the thought came to me that the rejected ones must face a hard life when they were brought back to their home kraals. sebuza chose five of the girls, and they were straightway sent to his kraal. the rejected ones were immediately clothed and their owners took them away. later in the day lochien told me that all the girls selected by sebuza were exceptionally high caste and that between forty and fifty cows had been paid for each. my companions were sadly disappointed over sebuza's wholesale marriage. they had expected a wild ceremony and much savage celebration, but i explained to them that the swazis did not go in for that sort of thing. there are no marriage ceremonies whatever--the man pays for his wife and she belongs to him from that hour until he dies. he may accumulate other wives, and this custom is so old that all the wives live together in peace, such a thing as jealousy of the white kind being unknown. from what i have seen of the toilsome lives of these wives, it would seem to me that their contentment is based on the old saw which sagely observes that "misery loves company." another advantage of plural wives is that each additional wife lessens the labors of the others. although there are no marriage rites beyond payment for the wife, there are very strict customs in regard to widows. if the deceased husband is an induna of importance or a connection of the royal family, it is customary for the king to take his pick of the widows. if, however, he has no interest in them, the nearest male relation who can afford to keep them inherits as many as he wishes. of course, when a husband dies all his wives shave their heads in token of mourning. as they have trained their hair to grow in a sort of pyramid, the hair is shaved clean up to this structure. daughters of the dead man have their hair shaved right off; if they are already wives, this does not apply, since the claim of the husband is greater than that of any other relative. we did not pay our usual visit to tzaneen the day sebuza married his first installment of wives. instead, tuys and i remained in camp planning some way to accomplish our mission and my companions made good their threat to learn something first-hand about swazi life. next morning trouble of another kind occurred. a government messenger arrived with a communication for me. he had located me at zombode, where they told him that i had gone on to lebombo. this messenger was a swazi induna with six warriors, and he carried himself with a good deal of swank. evidently he was impressed with his importance. i know he snubbed sibijaan, and my boy was breathing fire when he came to announce this arrival. the messenger waited for me in front of the tent, with his warriors drawn up behind him. it was quite a military turnout, and he saluted me with gravity and impressiveness. across one shoulder he had a small despatch-case on which were the arms of great britain in well-polished brass. from this he took an official looking envelope and handed it to me with a flourish. it was a communication from his majesty's high commissioner for swaziland, and it "begged most respectfully to call to your attention" the fact that i had passed through mbabane without acquainting the government officials with the details of my expedition into british territory. at once i realized my mistake, and could have kicked myself for not calling on the commissioner and telling him about my project. i knew how these british officials work. first they are punctiliously polite and request information. if they do not get it speedily, they remain polite but make certain definite demands. if still unsatisfied, they become annoyed in a polite manner and take "proper measures." these latter oftentimes consist of a "flying column," which makes it decidedly uncomfortable for the object of their well-bred attentions. i read the missive from the commissioner and for a moment intended replying to it. then i realized that any reply would seem impolite and possibly evasive, so i decided to make a quick trip to mbabane and make the laggard call on the honorable mr. honey. i gave directions that the messenger and his men should be fed, and then had sibijaan inspan the six mules and prepare the wagonette for the trip. oom tuys was missing and i suspected that he had gone to the royal kraal. i went over there and found him sitting with lochien outside the royal hut. the queen was asleep inside and several of her maids were busily engaged in hairdressing, a most important function among high class swazi women. i told tuys what i intended doing and he agreed that it was the right and proper thing. one caution he gave me, however. "forget i am here, owen," he admonished. "the british don't like it, as you know. if honey asks about me, you will have to lie. i am not here!" we talked in dutch, and he told me that he would keep the kettle boiling while i was away and try to gain a step or two in my absence. he seemed quite happy and enjoying himself with lochien, so i left him after he had reminded me that it would be a good thing to get the messenger and his men out of the camp as soon as possible. we all started together for mbabane. i had practically nothing in the wagonette and the mules were in fine fettle after their long rest. sibijaan drove, and it was not long before we left the messenger and his escort far behind. the valley of heaven was as beautiful as ever and the trip a pleasant one. we arrived at mbabane on the evening of the second day, having made better than twenty miles a day. i stopped at the little hotel and the mules were turned into the kraal of the livery-stable across the way. after washing the travel stains away, i reported to the commissioner's office. owing to the midday rest, or siesta, he usually remained at his desk until about seven o'clock, and i caught him shortly before he closed up shop. the interview was typical of governmental business as conducted by such officials. my name was taken in by his clerk and shortly after i entered the comfortable office with its large screened windows. mr. commissioner honey sat at his english desk writing with a scratchy pen. after a moment he looked up. "well, doctor o'neil?" he said with a rising inflection. it was just as though he had reminded me that i was guilty and was waiting to hear me plead. there were a dozen other meanings, all unpleasant, in that little word "well." i never realized before that one monosyllable could mean so much. i knew that he had me right, as it were, and i decided to act as innocent as possible. "mr. commissioner, i received your letter," i said, "and i considered it would be best and more polite to reply to it in person than to send an answer by your messenger." "very good, doctor, very good," he answered. "now will you be so kind as to tell me what you are doing at zombode?" i did so. i told him all about the plan to take pictures of the coronation of sebuza and how i was meeting obstacles which appeared insuperable. i told him that i had moved my outfit to lebombo and gave him satisfactory reasons for the change. i could see that my candor impressed him favorably. there was no reason why it should not. what i told him was the truth. of course i related how l'tunga had saved dr. sugden's life, and this impressed him deeply. he let me talk for some twenty minutes, and then leaned back in his chair and gave me some advice. "if i were you, doctor," he said, "i would not waste more time waiting for sebuza's coronation. it is my opinion that this will not take place for some time, possibly a year or so. you may not know it, but the young gentleman is not in the best graces of his majesty's government and it may mean a long delay before official permission is granted for him to reign. "your expedition is costing you a lot of money and it seems a shame for you to remain in swaziland with no chance of fulfilling your mission. if you will take my advice, you will return to ermelo and wait until i send you word that the coronation has received the official sanction of our government." this was a blow to my hopes. i had no idea that sebuza would not be recognized by the authorities and it began to look as though my expedition were a wild goose chase after all. we talked a little while longer, but i was not able to find any specific reason for the government's dislike of sebuza. apparently there was a general feeling that he would try to follow in the footsteps of his father, buno the terrible, and the government regarded swaziland as a sleeping dog that it would be unwise to awaken. our talk ended when mr. honey rose to his feet with the remark, "of course you are dining with me tonight?" i assured him that i would be most pleased, and he told me that eight o'clock was the hour. this barely gave me time to get back to my hotel and dress, but i made it. i got into my dinner-coat and fresh linen while i cursed the habits of the english. they will take civilization--particularly of the "dinner" kind--with them no matter where they go! dinner proved a delightful affair. there were half a dozen people there, including several of the minor officials and their wives. it was a gay party and the food was excellent, being served in london fashion by several silent-footed indians. the thought came to me that british officials certainly "do themselves well." we talked about many things, none of them concerning swaziland or its coronations, and it was a pleasure to have my worries banished for a few hours. after dinner we played "bridge," and then i went back to my hotel feeling as if i had stepped out of an english drawing-room into the heart of swaziland. at his door the commissioner shook hands and gave me a parting word. "better come back and avoid trouble, doctor," he said. "there isn't likely to be any coronation this year and you always run the change of getting into a fight. if you stay, be careful! his majesty's government is interested in the peace of swaziland. goodnight and cheerio!" [illustration: princesses at the sacred bathing pool previous to being offered for the choice of crown prince sebuza of the swazis] [illustration: a scene at the royal bathing pool] i was rather blue that night as i went to sleep. it looked as though my voyages, privations, and trouble had all been for nothing. next morning sibijaan and i set off bright and early. he told me that a kaffir had chummed with him at the kraal and had enquired whether oom tuys was with my expedition. sibijaan had lied, as he knew he must, and then i understood why the commissioner had carefully refrained from making me perjure myself. my only hope was that sibijaan had been a convincing liar. otherwise, the fact that tuys was with me would make the commissioner watchful of my activities. on the way back through the valley of heaven i came to the conclusion that something had to be done, and done quickly, if sebuza was to be made king. what this something was, however, i only had a vague idea. i wanted to talk it over with tuys before taking any action, since his help would be necessary. my uncle was waiting for me when i reached camp and seemed anxious to know what the commissioner had said about him. when i told him that he had not mentioned his name, his pride seemed hurt, but he cheered up when i related how the kaffir spy had tried to pump sibijaan. "i would hate to think that the british have ceased to worry about me," he said. "i have had a good deal of fun by teasing them, and i'm not ready yet to settle down and become a farmer all the time!" there was not much harm in tuys, but he was boer enough to enjoy worrying the british and the fact that he was not wanted in swaziland made his sojourns there all the more enjoyable. next day we visited tzaneen, and i found that she was much interested in my sudden trip to mbabane. her indunas had told her that i had received a summons to visit the commissioner and she was curious to know all about it. i told her why mr. honey wanted to know about me and then repeated his advice. "yes, mzaan bakoor, i know all about the government opposition to my son becoming king," she said. "he has so many followers that they are afraid of him. the british fear sebuza because they would sooner have a weak old woman like labotsibeni in swaziland than a strong man and a son of buno." "how many followers has sebuza, nkosikaas?" i asked, for this was part of what i was thinking. "mzaan bakoor, you of great magic, can you count the blades of grass in the field?" she replied. then she assured me that all swaziland was behind the young prince. she further told me that this was the chief reason why sebuza was disliked by the government and added that he had been impudent to some british officials. i had heard rumors of this, but had placed small weight in them. now, it seemed, sebuza must have over overstepped the mark and no reconciliation was possible for some time. this, added to what i had heard in mbabane, made me despair of accomplishing the object for which i had come to lebombo. there was more talk along the same line and we treated the queen to a bottle of gin. this led to a peculiar incident. that night sebuza came to our camp and asked to see me. i thought he might have something of importance to communicate, but all he asked was that i stop giving gin to his mother! this, of course, was impossible. she was in authority until he became king and her request for liquor was a command we dared not disobey. sugden had spent the afternoon with l'tunga and had watched the witch-doctors smoke dagga weed. i had forgotten to tell him about this and he was much excited over the discovery. with his faculty for observation, he had made a serious study of how the swazi uses the weed and was much interested in its effects. "l'tunga took me to his witch-doctors' school," he told me, "and i watched them smoke dagga. it is a small leaf that must be something like tea before it is dried. believe me, it has a 'kick.' there were about twenty of these witch-doctors sitting in a circle in their kraal, all hitting the pipe. they have a crazy way of smoking it, too. you've seen the pipe, haven't you? it's a great long thing, very badly made, and it takes a strong man to make it draw. "the way they smoke is this. the first man takes a calabash of water and then drops a coal into the pipe, thus lighting it. he next sucks on the pipe until he gets his mouth full of smoke. then he attempts to fill his mouth with water, all the while trying to prevent any of the smoke from escaping. when he can no longer hold the smoke and water in his mouth, he blows them out together. it is a sort of smoky shower-bath! "most of them could only do it once. almost before they could pass the pipe on to the next doctor, they would keel over and go sound asleep. for some reason or other the smoke did not affect them all in the same way. some of them became happy and began to chant, but they, too, soon grew drowsy. for plain unadulterated 'kick,' the dagga weed has it over anything i've ever seen, though it resembles hemp in its action." it seems that l'tunga did not join this smoke-party, but took sugden to where he could see the common swazis indulge in the same pastime. not being allowed the great pipe of the witch-doctors, they had a method of their own. first they dig a little hole in the ground. next a narrow trench is scraped out of the earth leading from this hole to another of about the same size. at the bottom of this trench is placed a freshly cut stick, and this is buried in the hard soil by covering it with wet clay. when the clay is firmly packed the stick is drawn out, leaving a little tunnel. then clay is used to build a small mound over the second hole, through which an opening is made which connects it with the little tunnel. this is the mouthpiece of the pipe, the tunnel is the stem, and the first hole is the bowl. "the swazis filled the hole with dagga weed and lighted it with a hot cinder from the fire in front of the kraal," sugden concluded. "then, one by one, they sucked the smoke through the mouthpiece. they used the water method, also. it was an amazing sight! one after another they would fall over, the next man at the pipe usually having to drag the body of the last one out of the way." i had seen these dagga orgies before and knew what they were like. sugden, however, thought it a most unusual spectacle and would have taken a whiff of the dagga himself if he had been urged. his interest was purely scientific, of course, and he succeeded in obtaining a few leaves of the plant which he proposed to have analyzed when we reached civilization again. chapter xviii witch-doctors of swaziland--how they brought a famine--l'tunga's school of witch-doctoring--the "poison test" to settle ownership--the professional witch-doctor's equipment--l'tunga decides a murder case--some genuine cures. dagga weed was sugden's most interesting discovery up to that time and it whetted his appetite. i pointed out to him that the witch-doctors' craft would be a good thing to investigate and he went after this like a bloodhound on a hot scent. we all became interested, and i soon found myself whiling away the tedium of waiting for the coronation by running down evidence of the art of "witch-doctoring." what we discovered made me realize the wisdom of the government, which had recently passed strict laws against the witch-doctors. for a time l'tunga regarded our curiosity as a great impertinence and did everything possible to prevent our getting more information than was readily available. finally, one night, he grew confidential and told us why the government had set its foot down on his brothers of the craft. he did this chiefly because dr. sugden and i had shown him that we were "white witch-doctors" and thus had established a sort of fraternity among fellow practitioners. "the bad witch-doctors caused all the trouble," he said, "and it was their own fault that the government made laws against them. none of the doctors in my 'lodge' were guilty of these offenses, but we have to suffer with the rest. like you white doctors, i cure the sick and drive out evil spirits." i had not claimed to drive out spirits, but i am not sure that sugden had not made such a statement. he always did things in a thorough manner and l'tunga might have misunderstood him when he told him what healers we were. "the trouble began a little while ago," the witch-doctor went on, "when a number of strange doctors came among us. they were from the gold country to the west and they had many queer tales to tell. they told our people that they were fools to work for the white men and that they ought to rise up and drive them out of the country. "i do not know where they received their learning, but they said that our people were as good as the white men and told them that they were fools to let white men govern them. our people listened and became much excited. they talked of making war and there was much unrest. the warriors began to gather, and the boers and other white men sent messengers and spies to find out what was going on. "however, these strange witch-doctors talked too much and made too many promises. soon they began to tell our people that they need not grow any more corn nor breed any more cattle. they promised that there would be a great rain of corn and that millions of cows would come into the country for any one who wanted them. the people were convinced and sat about in idleness, waiting for the free food. the end of this was that there was much hunger in our land and many of the people starved to death. "i went about when these strange witch-doctors told these lies and warned our people that starvation would come. but they scoffed at me and would not even bow to my most sacred charms. they said i belonged to the old order and that the new witch-doctors were the only ones worth following. for some time--too long a time--i had no honor and it was not until starvation came that the people again listened to me. "then the government learned of all these things and sent food to the people, so that not so many died. some of the strange witch-doctors were caught and killed, but most of them escaped. "making starvation was not the only crime they did. so foolish were the people that they believed in them and for a time would do anything they said. some of the doctors told them to commit murders and sold them charms that were to prevent them from getting caught. a number of killings took place and many women were stolen. when the murderers were caught and brought to court, they told how the doctors had advised them to kill and even named the number of cows they had paid for the charms that were supposed to protect them. when the government heard of this they became very angry and passed laws against witch-doctors." l'tunga was full of this invasion of swaziland by these strange witch-doctors and told us stories about it for several hours. one was as amusing as it was illuminating. it seemed that two young indunas had a difference of opinion over a woman. they both tried to buy her and bid against each other, so that the successful one had to pay three or four times her market value. this hurt the purchaser's feelings, while the loser was angry because he had been outbid. the result was that the latter went to one of the witch-doctors and bought a charm to protect him while he unostentatiously murdered his rival. at about the same time the other induna bought a charm from another of these witch-doctors and started out to slay his enemy. before they could meet the two witch-doctors compared notes and decided it would be a bad thing for them if there was a killing. the doctor whose charm proved valueless would lose prestige in the villages he was plundering. so they agreed to prevent bloodshed, and did so by proving that the woman in question was bewitched and thus only fit to serve them! one of them took her, and the indunas decided to forget their differences. however, when the crash came, after the starvation episode, they hunted up these witch-doctors and promptly killed them. "i have never heard what became of the woman," concluded l'tunga, "but i fear she is no longer in danger of being bewitched." before leaving us that night l'tunga agreed to tell us everything about his profession--with reservations, i suspected. he invited us to visit his school where he trained the young witch-doctors, and we decided to do so next day. his invitation, he explained, included only sugden and myself, as he knew that none of the rest of my party were "white witch-doctors." he was extending to us a sort of "professional courtesy," as it were. we learned more about witch-doctoring at the school in a short hour than we had during all the weeks we had been in its proximity. the school was in a small kraal set apart from the others, and we found about a score of would-be "doctors" in attendance. we must have arrived at a slack moment, for they were all smoking dagga weed and enjoying it to the full. l'tunga, nevertheless, showed us all over the place and painstakingly explained everything of interest. one small hut, however, was forbidden to us. he explained that it was the sanctuary where the charms were kept, and that if white men entered it, none of the charms would ever be of any use. "we'd put a curse on 'em!" sugden tersely put it. it was at the end of this tour of inspection that we received a practical demonstration of how a regular witch-doctor works. we were beginning to examine l'tunga's professional equipment when one of the neophytes approached and with the utmost respect informed him that he was wanted. of course we went along, and found quite a gathering at the gate of the kraal. in the center were two large and indignant warriors. they were all chattering away at a great rate, but all talk ceased immediately when l'tunga stepped out of the gate. he was absolute master of the situation, and the deference with which these common people treated him showed that they knew it. "why do you disturb l'tunga and his white friends?" he demanded. "do you not know that these are white witch-doctors of great magic and are too great to even look on such lowly people as you?" properly rebuked, the crowd dropped its eyes, and then l'tunga quickly found out what was wanted. it seemed that the two warriors each claimed to own a certain cow. instead of fighting over its possession, they had decided to ask l'tunga to find the rightful owner by means of the "poison test." i had often heard rumors of this test, but had never seen it performed. l'tunga talked with them a little while and arranged that the loser was to pay him one cow for his services in determining the ownership of the animal. after this was decided, each of the warriors sent one of his people to get a cow. while these cows were being brought l'tunga prepared himself for the test. we went to his hut and he allowed us to squat nearby and watch him dress. two of the would-be witch-doctors acted as valets for him, and when he had finished he was certainly a striking and awesome figure. first, he was plentifully smeared on the forehead, face, and body with a sort of red-and-white clay pigment. with his black skin, this gave him a weird appearance. when sufficiently painted, he put on a magnificent headdress consisting chiefly of porcupine quills some fourteen inches long. this headdress is known as the "ekufue" and is only worn by witch-doctors who are masters of the craft. the white pigment is known as "ocikela," while the red is called "onongo." both have other uses which we were soon to learn. to complete his costume l'tunga wound a wide strip of antelope skin about his middle. this contains a large pouch and is known as the "uya." in it are carried a number of medicines and some charms. when fully dressed for his work our friend looked every inch a leader of his profession. on our return to the kraal gate we found the two cows waiting. l'tunga looked them over and said they would do, although he was far from enthusiastic. sugden and i thought they were fine beasts, but it would not have done for the witch-doctor to have admitted this. then came the test. the warriors were told to stand together in front of l'tunga, who knelt on several small but fine skins which his assistants had placed on the ground. when all were in place an assistant handed l'tunga a small hollow gourd, or "okapo," partly filled with water. in this he mixed several drugs the nature of which we learned later. first came a form of "ombambu," which is said to be so deadly that birds die when they light on the limbs of the tree from which it is obtained. then came another drug of the same nature, said to be obtained from the roots of the tree. lastly l'tunga dumped "onsunga"--a mixture of powdered herbs the ingredients of which we were never able to ascertain--into the gourd. then he stirred the mess with the foot of an antelope. while he stirred it he chanted in a low voice. during all this performance the crowd remained absolutely silent, as were we. the only noise was the lowing of one of the cows who seemed to disapprove of the proceedings. when the "hellish brew," as sugden called it afterward, was thoroughly mixed, l'tunga handed it to one of the warriors and told him to drink it. without hesitation the man did so, and it seemed to me he took a good half of the mixture. l'tunga then retrieved the gourd and passed it to the other warrior, who drank the remainder. next came the climax of the test. both warriors appeared to grow violently ill. l'tunga chanted in a louder tone, while the crowd pressed close. sugden and i did not know what was going to happen and watched anxiously. the warriors swayed back and forth and there was an air of tense expectation that became constantly more acute. suddenly sugden caught my arm. "look, look! he's going to vomit!" he said, pointing at one of the warriors. he was right. a second later the man retched and vomited. as he did so, the crowd cried out so loudly that i caught the words, "he is the loser! it is not his cow!" l'tunga immediately stepped to the man and smeared him with red pigment, placing it mainly on his forehead and arms. next he turned quickly to the other and smeared him in similar manner with the white pigment. then with all haste l'tunga mixed "asangu" and gave some to each man. this, we learned later, was a powerful emetic and it certainly acted without delay. when the warriors had calmed down they were rather weak and weary. l'tunga directed an assistant to take the cow of the man who became sick, and we thus understood that he had lost in the "poison test." while l'tunga was divesting himself of his ceremonial trappings he explained to us that there was no doubt that this man was wrong about the ownership of the cow over which the dispute began--if he had owned the animal, he would not have vomited! "this is no country for a man with a weak stomach," sugden remarked to me. "it looks as if a strong constitution counts even more here than in the u. s. a." l'tunga also explained that both warriors would have died forthwith, had he not given them the emetic. the mixture he had compounded caused sure death after a short time. he told us that he considered the cow he had received in payment not much of an animal and adopted the pose that his talents had been poorly remunerated. by sympathizing with him in these complaints we made l'tunga feel that there was a further professional bond between us, and he became even more willing to assist us in our study of witch-doctoring. when he had removed his paint and other marks of his profession, he offered to show us the stock-in-trade of a real witch-doctor. "we must use many wonderful and powerful charms in our work among the poor and ignorant people," he said. "many of them have come down to us from the old witch-doctors who knew much more than i do, and i know more than any other in the whole of south africa. my father was a witch-doctor, and his father was one, too. he was the head witch-doctor for king ama-swazi, and his word was law with the king as well as the people. in his day there was much honor for a real witch-doctor and he had many wives. he was very, very rich. he was also very powerful, so that the king was glad to have him with him when he made war and governed his people." i had already heard tales of his respected ancestor, but i regret to say that few of these reflected credit on him. it seems that ama-swazi allowed him the right to inflict the death penalty, and it was his habit to remove any induna whose wives he coveted or who might possess anything else he could use. in addition to these civic activities, this old devil added a number of new charms to the outfit carried by a professional witch-doctor and l'tunga was proud of the fact that he had some of the original ones his ancestor had invented. one of the most interesting things that l'tunga showed us was his charm-case, or "uhamba," which all properly accredited witch-doctors carry. this corresponds to the familiar little black bag carried by white physicians when making their calls. the "uhamba" he used was a tightly woven basket, roughly one foot broad, two feet long, and perhaps ten inches high. in this was a queer collection of charms. the chief thing, however, was the "ongombo", or small gourd used in divination. this was very sacred and l'tunga would not allow us to touch it. in it were the most potent charms, and he exhibited these to us one by one. there were a few rough images of wood, very crudely made but yet unmistakably representing human beings. they were both male and female, and were used to symbolize persons who were doing business with the witch-doctor. then there was a lion's tooth, a horn of a goat, some chicken-bones, a pig's foot, and the hoof of an ox. more interesting than these were a chicken's head dried with the mouth open, which was used to symbolize a gossip, and the dried nose of a hyena, which l'tunga used when he "smelled out" crime. there were a number of other odds and ends, but they had no special significance. all these charms played a part in various rituals, and l'tunga told us that none of the would-be witch-doctors in his school were allowed to practice until they were able to use each and every one correctly. [illustration: interior of the royal kraal this shows the details of its construction, and also warriors and children] [illustration: chief witch-doctor of swaziland he is holding the latest addition to his family. he is a very influential man and is the personal doctor to the queen and the prince. he has thirteen wives and sixty children] [illustration: a school of witch-doctors] [illustration: a swazi seminary or school for young witch-doctors these are being taught the secrets of their profession, one of them being in the act of smoking a swazi pipe] next he showed us a number of other charms of a different character. one of these was the "ombinga," which was the horn of an ox, full of medicines, herbs, and drugs. this was a very valuable and potent charm, and only kings and great indunas were allowed to possess it. it was supposed to prevent lightning or disease from striking the owner, and its wonderful power also extended to his family and possessions. in addition, it was supposed to prevent wild animals from attacking those under its protection. "that is some charm, believe me," sugden said, when l'tunga had reverently explained it. "it is a combined lightning-rod and accident policy, and must cost a lot." l'tunga assured us that the "ombinga" cost many cows, and this was the reason why only kings and chiefs could afford to own it. following this, he showed us a rain wand, but refrained from demonstrating its power. this he called an "ocifungo." it was made of the tail of an ox, with two small deer horns inserted in the end. there were some magic oils in the tail, also, and he explained that he could drive rain away by blowing the little horns and waving the tail at the rain. sugden asked him in all solemnness if the wand worked, and l'tunga assured him that it was infallible, provided the right payment had been made. the payment, it seems, consisted of a number of cows, and young women would not be refused. sugden remarked that we ought to get one of these rain-dispellers and have it around all the time so that we would not have any further trouble with wet weather. last of all, l'tunga unwrapped a bundle of skins and produced a number of neck-charms, known in the singular as an "umbanda." these were for the use of any one willing to buy them, and were most potent as a protection against injury in battle. the "umbanda" consists of two bottle-shaped objects about four inches long and is made of woven grass-string. from the end of each there protrudes a tuft of feathers about two or three inches long, and each one contains magic medicines. the swazi warriors wear the "umbanda" around the neck and believe that they stand a poor chance in battle unless they do so. however, i had seen natives wearing them at times when there was no war, and this prompted me to ask l'tunga about it. "there is always a reason, mzaan bakoor," he said. "when a warrior puts on his 'umbanda,' he fears that he may meet the assegai of an enemy. then again, he may be going to destroy an enemy and wishes to be protected." further development of his explanation showed that when a swazi appeared wearing his "umbanda," it was generally understood that he was off to a killing. they always go armed, so that weapons mean nothing, but when they put on this charm there is bloody work afoot. after inspecting l'tunga's equipment we strolled over to the school, where a class was in session. the details of this we missed, however, as the instruction halted as soon as we came in sight. l'tunga talked for a moment with the "professor" and then told us that the fact that we were white men would prevent us from seeing the novices receive their instruction. "but it would not be worth your time to see these young men at work," he added to console us. "they are only learning certain rituals. first the instructor explains the charm to be used, and then he shows them how it is done. they try to do as he does, and when they have learned he explains another charm." sugden and i were sorry not to see this class at work. it would have been entertaining to watch them, and i wondered how they would have compared with my classes in the harvard medical school. of one thing i felt certain--these savages were just as much in earnest as any of us back there in cambridge. it appears to take a long time to make a bona-fide witch-doctor. the course given in l'tunga's school is most thorough--at least, that is what he said--and no candidate receives his "uhamba" until he knows all the tricks of the trade. it astonished us to find this intelligent savage taking his profession so seriously; it all seemed such frightful nonsense to us. still, the thought came to me that l'tunga might think the same about some of our most sacred medical practices. when we left him he promised that he would send for us the next time he was to work. three days later he did so. one of his students came to tell us that his chief was about to make a divination and that we could witness it if we wished. naturally, we accepted. we had been eager to see a divination, which we understood to be a ceremony where the witch-doctor really went through his paces. l'tunga was waiting for us in his hut. he was cordial, but very solemn. "this is a serious case," he said. "i am about to ask the spirits to decide the life or death of an induna. he is accused of murdering another induna, and there is no way of proving his guilt or innocence except through the spirits who work for me. to-day you shall see the most important work i do!" we were properly impressed. sugden, in fact, was so interested that he forgot to make his usual caustic comment. it struck me as the most barbaric thing we had yet encountered that this witch-doctor with his foolish bag of tricks should be called upon to decide the fate of a fellow-being. l'tunga dressed himself as before, the only difference being that he put on his paint and ornaments with more care. when he was dressed he called out, and several of the young witch-doctors entered. these he loaded with various queer things the nature of which developed at the ceremony. when we were all ready, our party solemnly marched out to the entrance of the kraal. there we found a large crowd of people, the great majority being warriors and indunas. standing apart from the rest, facing the gate, was the induna whose fate was to be decided. he was a tall, heavy-set man of middle age, and his face was that of a killer. he looked as if he might be accused of a dozen murders, instead of only one. "if looks count for anything, that gentleman ought to be shot on sight!" was sugden's remark. l'tunga halted just outside the entrance of the kraal, and an old witch-doctor stepped out of the crowd and addressed him. "o l'tunga, greatest of witch-doctors," he began, "you are called upon to decide the guilt or innocence of makeza, this induna, the owner of many cows and women. three days ago an induna was found dead with many wounds. makeza was his enemy, and the people of their village say that makeza killed him in the night. oktela was his name, and now makeza has taken his wives and there is much outcry in the village. makeza says that he knows nothing about oktela's death, but you, l'tunga the great, can decide!" while he stated the case against makeza the induna stood gazing defiantly at l'tunga, and i had a feeling that he was not helping his case. "my spirits will decide whether makeza is guilty or not!" l'tunga announced in a loud voice. the witch-doctor waited while the little skins were placed and then knelt down facing makeza, who also knelt at a sign from l'tunga. next the assistants placed two roughly carved wooden figures, about a foot high, in front of the witch-doctor. these are known as "ovitakas" and are supposed to represent the spirits that are to be invoked for the divination. it was plain to see that the figures were male and female. l'tunga then put on a necklace which was handed him by an assistant. this seemed to be made of teeth of various wild animals, those of the lion being most noticeable. he next picked up a gourd and handed it to makeza, who immediately commenced to shake it. it was full of seeds of some kind and made a loud rattle. l'tunga produced a similar gourd and also started to shake it. this rattling was really the beginning of the ceremony. after a short time l'tunga commenced blowing on a whistle, which gave a loud shrill sound. it was a horn of a small deer set in the end of an ox-tail which was wrapped with broad bands of red, black, and white beads. the whistle was to call the spirits and we noted that the people seemed to get much excited when they heard it. after a few moments l'tunga began to vary the whistling with a sort of chant in a minor key. the sound of his voice struck terror into the audience, and i could see that they were terribly afraid. makeza showed his fear by rattling his gourd with what almost amounted to frenzy. the whistling, rattling, and chanting went on and on, all the time rising in a crescendo. the excitement of the crowd became more and more intense, until it seemed to me that something must happen soon. l'tunga appeared to be quite mad, and makeza shook his gourd as though his life depended on the noise he made. at the exact moment when the situation became unbearable, and when i felt as though i would go mad also, l'tunga stopped his noise. a second later there was silence, broken only by the deep breaths of the audience. the sudden silence came with such a shock that it quite unnerved one. presently l'tunga raised his empty hands above his head and slowly brought them down over his "uhamba," which lay on the ground in front of him. he held his position for a moment, makeza's eyes riveted on him. then l'tunga slowly waved his hands back and forth, and i could see makeza following their every movement. this must have lasted for a few moments only, but it seemed an age. suddenly the hands stopped, remained still for the space of a breath, and then swooped down on the "uhamba." with one motion l'tunga picked up the charm-case and shook it above his head. three shakes, and he held it motionless! slowly, very slowly, he brought it down and laid it on the ground. makeza watched, his eyes bright and big with dread. l'tunga looked at him fixedly for a brief space, and then slowly lifted the top of the "uhamba" and glanced into it. "guilty! guilty!" he shouted in a ringing voice. "the red horn stands! the spirits have decided! makeza is guilty!" the induna seemed stunned for a second, and for about the same space the crowd remained quiet. then everything broke loose at once. excited cries rose from the warriors; makeza sprang to his feet; l'tunga jumped up and back to where we stood. the condemned man looked wildly about and then, snatching up his knob-kerrie, assegais, and shield, made a wild dash to escape. it was all over much more quickly than it can be told. the thud of knob-kerrie on shield, the flash of steel, and makeza lay there in the bright sun, a bleeding, mangled thing! l'tunga was the least excited of all of us; he seemed to take the killing as a matter of course. "makeza had killed," he said later, when we returned to his hut, "and his life was forfeit. he knew that he would have to die, so he attempted to escape. i understand that he would have been joined by a number of warriors if he had been able to get into the hills." sugden and i were curious to know about the "red horn," and l'tunga removed the top of his "uhamba" and showed it to us. the horn was a short piece of one from an antelope, with the top painted red. in the basket, also, was a small figure of about the same size as the horn, on the head of which was a cowry shell. "if the spirits had decided that makeza was innocent," l'tunga explained, "the figure would have been standing when i took the top off the 'uhamba.' but they knew that he was guilty, so the red horn stood at their command." this seemed a poor way to determine a case of life or death, but makeza was the only one who had any objections. it was the custom, and thus was quite all right in the eyes of swaziland. on theory, makeza had an even chance, which is a good deal more than he would have had before any civilized jury. his appearance alone would have convicted him. i had about convinced myself that the induna had received a fair deal, when sugden insisted that the bottom of the little image of innocence was round, so that it could not stand. "makeza never had a chance!" he exclaimed. "the cards were stacked against him. the poor devil!" immediately sugden became sorry for the induna, although he agreed with me that he could not have been anything but a murderer. before we returned to camp l'tunga explained some of the work an accredited witch-doctor is supposed to be able to perform. he said he could do all the things he talked about. according to him, a real witch-doctor can recover stolen goods; he can read the past and future; he can cast out spells and provide charms against them, and can "smell out" the witches that cause other than violent deaths. the genuine witch-doctor can cause the corn to grow; he can make or stop rain and can cause the cows to give milk when they have been bewitched and their milk dries up too soon. this last is accomplished by boiling some of the affected cow's milk and whipping the animal severely with a sjambok while the milk boils. among the hocus-pocus and humbuggery of the witch-doctor's trade we found several genuine "cures" which they used to alleviate suffering among their people. i do not know the nature of these "cures," but they are all drugs. as an emetic, and a most efficient one, l'tunga gives his patient "asangu"; for rheumatism he prescribes "amatoli" and sometimes "ovihata," and the distress of a mother in labor is greatly lessened by giving her "oluvanga" to chew. this is a leaf, while the rheumatism "cures" are both powders, as is the emetic. one stock remedy of which l'tunga was very proud greatly amused us both, but we concealed our amusement lest he think we were making fun of him. this was "ekulo," a love medicine which he said was most potent. "when a wife wishes to be preferred above all other wives of an induna," he explained, in telling of its use, "she comes to me and i give her 'ekulo.' this she mixes with the food of her husband, and from that time on he cannot resist her and she becomes his favorite wife and is mistress of all the others." l'tunga explained other uses of "ekulo," but these are "too intimate," as sugden said, to be set forth here. after our investigation of witch-doctoring as it is practiced in swaziland, sugden and i came to the conclusion that the british knew what they were doing when they placed a ban on it. even l'tunga, kindly soul that he was, ought to be suppressed. chapter xix wearisome delay in coronation--war suggestions from umzulek--my plan to bluff labotsibeni--the bluff is called--a ticklish situation-- labotsibeni refuses to surrender the throne--our demonstration fails--night murders provoke war. during the next two months tuys and i had almost daily interviews with tzaneen and sebuza, but we got no nearer the coronation. the situation was becoming a scandal in swaziland and was hurting the prestige of the royal family at lebombo. indunas kept coming in from the outlying districts and asking how soon the coronation would take place. with them came their warriors, and there was much murmuring because of the delay. we, too, were growing more and more impatient, and to add to our distress rossman, my camera-man, became ill. i could do little for him, and he was thoroughly disgusted with the lack of action. finally, on his urgent request, i sent him out through portuguese territory to delagoa bay, where he caught a steamer for his home in america. oom tuys took him to the coast and was gone nearly two weeks. he returned to find us just where we had been when he left, except that the population of lebombo was increased by several hundred more expectant warriors. these had all come for the coronation and were unable to understand why tzaneen did not go ahead with it. tuys brought word from some one he had talked to at delagoa bay that there was a general understanding among the portuguese that sebuza intended taking the throne by force. in fact, traders were warned not to go into swaziland for fear that they might get mixed up in the impending civil war. rumors of war always lead to "gun-running" in south africa, just as they did in cuba in the old days, and i asked tuys if he had heard whether anything of this nature was taking place. "the authorities there are not taking any chances," he said. "they are not anxious to become embroiled with the british and have posted extra guards at many places along the border. if anyone tries to get guns to the swazis, he will have to be very clever or he'll be caught." it is absolutely forbidden to sell guns to the kaffirs anywhere in the transvaal, but there are always venturesome traders who find it impossible to overlook the chance of making a big profit, for a gun is worth more than its weight in silver to any native able to pay for it. i remembered my experience with king buno years before, when oom tuys allowed me to present him with a mauser rifle. the monotony of the delay in the coronation was hard to bear. as already stated, we visited tzaneen and sebuza nearly every day, but it was weeks before anything happened. it was about four months after we came to lebombo that tzaneen sent for us one day. we found her surrounded by a number of strange indunas who seemed to be friendly with vilakazi, one of the sons of buno and therefore an uncle of sebuza. it seemed that we had been summoned to attend an important conference. i was glad of this, for it might mean that some action was about to be taken. we entered the royal hut with the usual formalities, and the strange indunas saluted respectfully. "nkoos, these great chiefs have come from stegea," the queen said. "they have been sent with a message from umzulek. they are the leaders of his impis and he has directed them to counsel with me for the purpose of taking the throne by force. umzulek has talked much with vilakazi, who has explained to him all the difficulties that surround us. umzulek declares he will send all his warriors to our assistance, if we will drive labotsibeni from the throne and make my son king." during this speech tuys watched me keenly. i could feel that there was war in the air. the people of swaziland had come to the end of their patience and were determined to set up their king whether labotsibeni and lomwazi liked it or not. on my part, i was practically pledged to keep peace in swaziland and could not be party to a war, even if it meant the success of my enterprise. keeping this thought in mind, i addressed the queen before tuys could reply. "nkosikaas, mother of the king," i said as impressively as i could, "this is talk of war! we must not have killing. your son must not gain his throne through bloodshed. "this would be a poor business, nkosikaas. the government would not sanction his taking the throne by force and he would be driven out by the rifles of the english. war must be avoided at all costs, since sebuza would lose, even if he won!" i went on at length, pointing out the foolishness of war and trying to get the queen and the indunas to change their minds. i could see that the indunas were set on war, and they had convinced tzaneen that it was the only way. down in my heart i had a sort of feeling that they were right. tuys also backed me up and talked of the mistakes made by the swazis when he was young. he explained that they must obey the government and told them how impossible it would be for them to wage war against labotsibeni without its consent. he made a good argument against killing and practically converted the queen. then sebuza came in! with him was lochien and a number of the younger indunas. immediately the debate became heated. lochien took our side, but sebuza and his men sided with the indunas from stegea. the queen remained neutral, though i felt she would have liked to come out for war. it was sebuza who made the deciding speech. "who am i that i am kept out of my kingdom?" he almost shouted. "i, the son of buno and grandson of umbandine! i have thousands and thousands of warriors, and all the people of my country wait for me to become king. all my indunas and warriors wait for me to give the word, when they will sweep over the land and crush labotsibeni and lomwazi! "i call for war! i call to my people to come to me and destroy those who hold the throne from sebuza, son of buno!" with this kindly thought the prince sat down, and i could see that practically all the indunas were in favor of his suggestions. it looked as though we were to have a civil war whether we wanted it or not. but i thought of commissioner honey's remarks and decided to make another effort to avoid a conflict. i suggested to the queen that the indunas be dismissed and that we hold a conference to decide the question of whether or not there should be war. when the indunas had gone, there was a sort of "executive session" attended by the queen, sebuza, lochien, vilakazi, oom tuys, and myself. tuys and i brought up the question of what would happen to all present if the indunas of tzaneen and sebuza were allowed to precipitate war. we told them of the misery it would cause their people, and finally reminded them that the british government would take a hand and that they would either be driven out of their country or executed. this last thought struck home. nevertheless, they were so exasperated at the state of affairs that it looked as though they were almost willing to take a chance. "but we have more than five thousand warriors here now," sebuza objected. "these brave men are loyal to me and came here to see me crowned. they are willing to die for me, and i dare not send them home to their kraals to say that i, the son of buno, am afraid to take my throne. labotsibeni has few warriors, and i have heard that these will desert her if there is a war. we could seize the throne with little killing. only lomwazi, perhaps, need be killed!" that last statement came from the heart. i could see that sebuza had hard feelings for his uncle and he looked as if he would enjoy the job of removing labotsibeni's able counsellor. his remark about there being so many warriors at lebombo gave me an idea. it flashed through my troubled head that it might be a good idea to "pull a bluff" on labotsibeni, as the americans say. "you say you have more than five thousand warriors here waiting for you to give the word for war," i said, turning to sebuza. "are you sure that labotsibeni has few warriors and that these will not remain faithful?" sebuza repeated his statement, and both lochien and vilakazi agreed with him. "then let us make a demonstration on zombode," i went on. "let us get all the warriors of sebuza and the queen, and also those of umzulek, and march on the royal kraal of labotsibeni. when we arrive there, let the impis deploy so that their number is so many that it cannot be counted." [illustration: crown prince sebuza in festival dress the headdress consists of anything that is colored, perhaps a few colored feathers or colored paper (probably removed from a jam-tin). the necklace consists of beads worked into various ornaments and patterns. the anklets are made from the hides of wild beasts] [illustration: crown prince sebuza this picture was taken immediately after his return from the mountains where he attained his manhood. during the space of two moons, or two months, he lived in complete isolation among the barren mountains. he was later subjected to various religious rites, including circumcision, and went through all the ceremonies incidental to his sanctification for the throne] "when all is ready, the warriors will dance as though for war. after a little we shall send messengers to labotsibeni and demand that she abdicate. lomwazi will see that we have an overwhelming force and will advise her to do so, and thus sebuza will receive the throne of his father!" my suggestion met with the unqualified approval of all the swazis, particularly sebuza and his mother. oom tuys, however, spoke quickly to me in dutch. "remind them that this is only a demonstration, owen, and that there must be no killing," he said. i turned to the others again. "nkosikaas, you must instruct your indunas that this is to be only a peaceful demonstration," i told the queen. "you must tell them that the warrior who makes an attempt to kill will be executed. there must be no mistake about this. prince sebuza must also tell his indunas this, and they must understand fully that this is not war--it is only make-believe." all promised to see that these instructions were carried out, and then we arranged the details of the demonstration. it was set for the day after the next new moon, or about ten days hence. in the meantime all the warriors that could be notified were to be rallied at lebombo, so that the impis of the queen and sebuza would be as large and imposing as possible. at the time i did not realize that this last suggestion was a mistake. i ought to have remembered that it would be impossible to muster the warriors loyal to our faction without those of the opposite persuasion knowing about it. the day of the demonstration dawned bright and fair. it was also very hot. tuys and the rest of our party were up early, and even then the kraals of lebombo seemed alive with fighting men. lochien came over before breakfast and said that they would set out so as to reach zombode before noon. this meant about half-past nine, since labotsibeni's kraal was about a two hours' march distant. it was an imposing spectacle to see the various impis assemble in such formation as they knew. tzaneen and sebuza each had their own impis, wearing a distinguishing headdress. in addition, the men from stegea wore plumes that showed they were the "household troops" of umzulek. the other impis were more or less nondescript, but their warriors were picked men. every man had on his full war costume and they made a brave array. the indunas could be distinguished by their more splendid regalia and bearing, and even i was surprised to see what fine types of savages these were. sugden, crespinell, tuys, and i bore our rifles and side-arms so as to carry out the semblance of war, and we four marched at the head of the army. the impis were strung out along the roadway, and when i looked back i felt certain that we had many more than five thousand fighting men behind us. with us at the head of the troops went l'tunga, vilkazi, lochien, and makets, the latter the head induna of umzulek's impi. we halted at the little stream that marks the dividing line between zombode and lebombo and i took occasion to again impress on the indunas the fact that we were about to make a peaceful demonstration. i knew that word must have reached lomwazi that we were coming, and i hoped his spies had exaggerated our numbers so that he would realize how hopeless it was to resist. sebuza had remained with his mother at lebombo. this was to show that he had nothing to do with our warlike strategy. he was to stay there until sent for by his people to take over the throne. i had one bad moment when we deployed in front of zombode. we were stretched out for more than a quarter of a mile--it must have been nearer a half--and the formation was made while we were at least five or six hundred yards from the kraals. with my field-glasses i could see great numbers of warriors lying or sitting in front of the village. the grass was high, so that i could make no actual estimate of how many there were. i could glimpse thousands of headdresses above the grass, however, and there appeared to be a bank of men on the ground surrounding the kraals. now it had been planned that our army should advance in solid formation right across the little plain until it came within about two hundred yards of the huts. when it halted a signal was to be given, and then the war dancing would begin. we went forward, our little party between the impis of tzaneen and the prince, and i could feel the excitement growing. on both sides of me grim warriors fingered their weapons and their eyes flashed. i had the feeling that i was on top of a powder-magazine with lightning striking all around. lochien was several paces in the lead, and it was he who was to give the signal. on we went, until i began to think he had lost his head and forgotten the orders. suddenly he threw up his hands, his shield gleaming dully in the sun, and halted. instantly the whole army stopped--and then came my bad moment! diamond-points of sunlight flashed from a thousand spearheads as impi after impi rose from the ground around zombode. in that brief moment there seemed to be countless warriors, fully armed, standing guard at the old queen's kraal. we fairly gasped with astonishment. tuys threw his rifle forward and i heard the breech-lock click. he was as amazed as the rest of us, and his instinct warned of trouble. "what a surprise!" he said, turning quickly to me. "now we're in for it! keep close, lad, and we'll win through!" before i could reply, lochien began dancing. in another moment our entire army was chanting and springing up and down like madmen. "soukbulala! soukbulala!--i will kill you! i will kill you!" they shouted. from individual shouts this quickly fell into a sort of rude rhythm, its heavy bass rolling away across the plain. immediately the warriors at the kraals commenced their dance, and their shouts reached us with the snap of gunshots. our men waved their knob-kerries, assegais, and shields in the air, and labotsibeni's home guard did the same. the air was full of murderous tools and we were surrounded by giant savages who seemed to have suddenly gone mad. this awful bedlam lasted for some time. actually, it was six minutes by my watch, but such a six minutes! every second i expected to see some of our warriors dash forward and attack the enemy. l'tunga came to himself first. he sprang out to lochien, who still danced in front of us all, and caught him by the arms. lochien stopped dancing, and a second later he turned to our army and threw up his arms. like a statue he held the great shield above his head, standing there as though suddenly turned to bronze. this was a signal for the dance to cease. in a little time our warriors saw him and quieted down, only their agitated plumes showing that their excitement was not wholly dead. labotsibeni's warriors caught the change, and soon they, too, became quiet. they swayed to and fro in front of the kraals, but remained as silent as our impis. l'tunga and lochien came back hurriedly to us for a conference. "nkoos, this is not what we expected," lochien said to me in an anxious tone. "we didn't believe labotsibeni could muster so many men. what shall we do now? shall we go through with the plan, or fight? perhaps it is better to fight. we have more than five thousand warriors, and they cannot have more than about three thousand. shall we fight?" "no! no!" i replied most emphatically. "go through with the plan as arranged. tell labotsibeni that you have many more warriors than she has. tell her that you don't want to have any killing, but that she must surrender the throne." "wouldn't it be better to fight?" lochien insisted, and i could see that the blood-lust had him. i threw my rifle to my shoulder with the muzzle dangerously close to his head. "i shall kill the first man who tries to fight," i said. "if he is a warrior, i'll shoot him once; if an induna, twice; and if he is one of the royal blood, i'll fill him full of holes!" this settled the question. lochien thought my threat was real--and he was not fooling himself much, either. l'tunga, who had a wide reputation throughout swaziland as a witch-doctor, then went forward, accompanied by lochien, makets, and several others. they made the peace sign and went halfway across the debatable ground between the two armies. here they waited for a few moments only, and then lomwazi and half a dozen indunas came to meet them. i would have given much to have heard that conversation. after a short talk lomwazi led our envoys into the village. no sooner were they out of sight than labotsibeni's men again began dancing and shouting their war-cries. i could feel our warriors tightening up, and shouted for vilakazi. i told him to watch closely and prevent any warrior from breaking ranks, and demanded that he stop them from dancing. he went along the ranks and spoke to the indunas, who turned and yelled at their men. in spite of this, i could see the plumes beginning to sway and felt that it would not be long before they were at it again. this time i doubted whether we could stop them if the "enemy" began taunting them. labotsibini's men shouted and jumped, and presently one or two began running forward a short distance. a warrior would seemingly be overcome by his emotions and would make a quick dash into the "no man's land" between the forces, using up his energy by a particularly violent fit of dancing. when this was spent he would hop back to his place near the kraal, yelling all the while. i realized the danger of this sort of thing. if these enthusiastic savages came far enough, they would tempt some of our men to dance out and meet them. this would mean a killing. there would be some rapid blows with the knob-kerries, accompanied by the hollow thud when the shields caught the strokes, and finally one blow would go home and the victim would drop. like a flash would come the stab of the assegai and there would be a dead man on the ground! our indunas knew this better than i did, and they walked up and down before their excited warriors watching for the first man to break ranks. tuys and i held our rifles ready, fully intending to shoot the first warrior who started for the middle ground. it was a ticklish position and my white companions stood nervously waiting for the break they felt was coming. at the moment when it seemed as though the dam must burst and our men get beyond control, a sudden silence came over the shouting lunatics at the kraals. i understood the reason when i saw our envoys coming out of the royal kraal, still escorted by lomwazi and his indunas. amid deep silence they walked slowly to the spot where they had met before and stopped long enough to ceremoniously salute each other. then lomwazi and his bodyguard returned to the village and l'tunga and the others came to where we stood. they appeared angry and worried. lochien also looked dejected, and tuys and i listened while l'tunga made his report. "queen labotsibeni sends word that she will not surrender the throne, nkoos," he said. "she told me to tell our queen that she must die before the throne passed to sebuza, and not after." evidently the old queen had made up her mind that the government could not protect her from the sacrifice if she allowed sebuza to become king. "when i told her that we had many more warriors than she had," the witch-doctor went on, "she declared that her indunas would fight to the death, that so long as she held zombode she was queen of swaziland!" i could picture the old queen when she delivered this defiance. blind, too weak to stand, and more than one hundred years old, her spirit was still unbroken, her courage undiminished! she had lived like a queen and evidently had made up her mind to die like one. both armies remained quiet while we held a council of war. makets insisted that we attack zombode; he thought we could rush the village and take it. i could see that he was carrying out instructions that umzulek had given him when he sent him to lebombo. his advice was given in a torrent of words that i had difficulty in stopping. he had the attack all planned. "attack with fire!" he almost yelled, for he was much excited and in deadly earnest. "first the impis of tzaneen, sebuza, and umzulek will attack those on guard. after them will come the others, carrying fire. while we fight, the torch-bearers will break through and burn the kraals!" he had it all planned out and i could perceive the cunning mind of his chief at work. makets wanted a bloody holocaust that would bring back the old days with a vengeance. i had heard of such attacks when the boers and british wiped out offending tribes, and i knew what such a thing meant--a massacre, with the women and children burned to death! i finally silenced makets, but barely in time. he had almost fired the others with his bloodthirstiness, and for a moment i was afraid they would bolt and start the carnage. l'tunga came to my assistance, and a moment later lochien joined the anti-war party which tuys and i headed. our argument lasted a long time, but finally we prevailed. "indunas and leaders of the true king's impis," i said at the conclusion of our council. "we have shown queen labotsibeni and lomwazi that their nonsense must end. they know now that a majority of the loyal warriors of swaziland are behind the son of buno and they are afraid! let us take our impis back to lebombo, and to-morrow we will send to labotsibeni and demand that she give up the throne. she is afraid that she will be killed, according to the ancient custom, and for that reason refuses to abdicate. we white men will pledge ourselves to guard her and escort her to portugese territory, where she will be safe. when she hears this, she will have no hesitation in permitting sebuza to be crowned." this reasoning seemed good to lochien, l'tunga, and the others, except makets, who grumbled a bit and still wanted to end the business then and there. i suspect that he hated the thought that he would have to report to umzulek that there had been no fighting and that lomwazi had escaped. our warriors were squatting on the ground when the command was given for the return to lebombo. they rose at once, and labotsibeni's watch-dogs also sprang to their feet. these expected that we were about to attack, and so were greatly puzzled when our army turned about and started off slowly for lebombo. their silence lasted only a few minutes, however. then they broke out into revilings and taunts that would have made a saint fight. our impis grew more and more sullen under this volley of insults, and went away from zombode with murder in their hearts and the feeling that they would have many explanations to make when they returned to the home kraals. i was sorry that our bluff had failed, but very thankful that we had pulled through without bloodshed. tuys walked along beside me, silent and thoughtful. when lebombo's kraals came in sight he told me what was on his mind. "owen, my lad, i know these people," he said, "and i'm afraid that your peaceful ruse will cause trouble. the swazi warrior is a proud man and does not like to be called names. i pray that we may get through the next few days without an explosion." i made light of his forebodings, though probably my attitude was due to our having withdrawn without a battle. had i known what was going to happen, i would not have been so lighthearted. tzaneen and sebuza were angry at our failure. the prince, of course, was indignant that we had accepted the insults of labotsibeni's troops and was quite rude to oom tuys and me for preventing the capture of zombode. "it would have all been over by this time," he said, "and i would be king! my impis have lost faith in me for permitting you white men to do this thing. i shall lose my warriors. they will go over to labotsibeni and lomwazi because they are not afraid." then i explained to him and his mother about our plan to send a message to labotsibeni on the following day. when they heard that we white men would guard the old queen and escort her to safety, they thought that it might succeed. sebuza, though, very pointedly mentioned the fact that according to custom the old queen ought to die. i protested that she was too old and feeble to do him any harm after he became king, and he agreed that i was right. he was insistent, however, that lomwazi should die. he felt that lomwazi would be a menace to the throne and, it seems, had some old scores he wanted to pay off. we argued over this for some time, and sebuza, on the urging of his mother, finally came around to our point of view. yet i had the feeling that we would have to move fast to prevent an accident happening to lomwazi. i little realized that all this talk was for nothing. my nice little plan, which sounded so simple, would never even be tried! that night tuys and i arranged the details of the next day. we planned to take the wagonette and use it to transport labotsibeni and lomwazi to portuguese territory. we would walk beside it with our rifles ready and protect the old queen with our lives. we both felt that the safest thing to do with lomwazi would be to hide him inside and we spent some time arranging the vehicle so that he could be concealed within. of course he would be found easily if the wagonette was searched, but we intended to prevent that, even if we had to fight off curious kaffirs. in high hopes that we had reached the end of the trail and that the coronation was at last in sight, we went to bed. sugden and crespinell were glad, too, since they had had their fill of swaziland and wanted to go home. but our real troubles were only beginning. tuys waked me roughly next morning before day-break. he was much excited, and i could see that he was fully dressed and had his rifle in his hand. "get up! get up at once, owen!" he said hoarsely. "there is the devil to pay! war has broken out and there has been killing already!" i jumped out of bed and into my clothes in one motion. while i pulled them on he told me what had happened. "some of sebuza's indunas started for their kraals last night," he said. "they went by way of zombode, and when they passed the little hill just before you reach the plain they were attacked by several score of labotsibeni's warriors and every one of them was killed! it was cold-blooded murder. they must have been outnumbered about ten to one!" it seems that an induna and his men had lagged behind the others and had seen the ambush. from their description it was a most unexpected and brutal attack. sebuza's indunas tried to put up a fight and resisted for a short time. then the enemy overpowered them and stabbed them to death. so it was war after all! in spite of my efforts to prevent it, the question of who should be ruler of swaziland was to be settled in the old-fashioned way. tuys and i went to the royal kraal and found tzaneen and lochien already up. thousands of warriors and scores of indunas were on guard and the whole place was in whirl of excitement. as we forced our way to the royal hut, sebuza came marching in surrounded by his young indunas, all of whom were officers in his impis. the prince pushed by us into his mother's hut and a second later lochien came out and beckoned us to enter. as soon as she saw us, queen tzaneen motioned us to her side. "it is war now," she said decisively. "there is no other way! our indunas have been murdered and my warriors cannot be restrained. you white men did everything you could to keep peace, but labotsibeni makes war against us and we cannot help ourselves. it is war!" the others echoed the word "war," and i could see that they were all pleased at the prospect. even lochien, peace-loving though he was, realized that there was no help for it and counselled quick action to secure the capture of zombode. makets was in his glory and i knew that the smell of blood was already in his nostrils. but i would not give up. i could not see these people go to war and i made one last attempt to prevent it. "the government will avenge the murder of your indunas, nkosikaas," i declared. "the government will send rifles to zombode and will hang all those who did the killing. there is no need for you to meet murder with murder--then you will be also punished by the government's rifles! thousands will be killed, and needlessly, for those at mbabane will send white troops to catch the murderers and hang them." they listened while i spoke, but i could feel that i was talking against a flood that was irresistible. tzaneen answered me, and her words met the hearty approval of all the others. "we do not need the government to avenge our dead," she said, holding her head erect with pride. "our dead are our own and their blood cries to us for revenge!" that seemed to settle it. they asked us to take part in the war, but we flatly refused. we told them that it was not a "white man's war" and that we would have nothing to do with it. then sebuza, with his customary impudence, asked me to lend him my rifle. i refused, and he grew quite huffy about it. "you gave my father, king buno, a rifle," he retorted. "i shall soon be as great a king and then you will be sorry you refused!" i realized he might be speaking the truth, but nevertheless would not let him have the gun. i would have felt guilty of any killing he did with it and i know the government would have taken the same view. when tuys and i got back to our camp we immediately held a council of war. our position was dangerous. if labotsibeni's men attacked lebombo, we might have to fight for our lives. we were known as friends of tzaneen and sebuza, and our taking part in the "demonstration" of the day before had shown all swaziland that we were not friendly to labotsibeni and lomwazi. realizing that we might have to fight and not caring to take advantage of the slim protection of the kraals, we built up the sides of the great wagon so that it became more like a fort than anything else. in addition, we arranged for night watches, so that there would always be at least one white man on guard, with several of the black boys to assist him. of course i had sibijaan assigned to my watch, while tuis was to watch with oom tuys, with whom he had become a favorite. crespinell and sugden each had their boys, and we felt that there would be little chance for a surprise attack on the wagon, if matters worked out as planned. an interesting development in our preparations for defense was the sudden discovery that "gunga din" was a soldier. he came to me, asked for one of the spare rifles, and handled it like a veteran. like all indians, he had a great contempt for negroes, and he seemed delighted over the prospect that he might have a chance to shoot a few swazis. instead of being worried about the turn of affairs, din was bucked up by it and produced a large crooked knife from among his effects, sticking in his belt where it could be readily reached. it developed that our chef was a fighting man, after all. [illustration: lochien, commander-in-chief of prince sebuza's impis on either side stand two of his indunas, or captains] [illustration: warriors of prince sebuza's impis starting out to battle the enemy was but a short distance away and his warriors were coming forward in like manner to meet those of the prince] [illustration: one of the royal impis these regiments of about one thousand men are led by indunas, or captains. these soldiers are preparing to go into battle. they are beginning the excitement-producing dance, to be followed by a succession of single combats which are always fought to the death] all that morning excitement prevailed at the kraals. there was much dancing, and the chanting was continuous. i could see thousands of warriors on hand and during the afternoon a fresh impi arrived from the direction of stegea. these, however, did not look like umzulek's men, for they wore no distinguishing mark. we were all curious to know what was going to happen. i made another visit to the royal kraal late that afternoon and was met by vilakazi. he was friendly enough, but professed to be ignorant of what was planned and ended by advising me to return to my camp. he gave me to understand, politely but firmly, that only those who intended fighting were desired at the royal kraal. finding that i was not wanted, i took his advice and returned to camp to tell tuys about it. "vilakazi has more sense than you have, owen," he commented. "you said that this was not a white man's war and you'd better live up to that. don't worry about what's going to happen; it will be bad enough when it gets here." so i decided to mind my own business and try to meet whatever trouble was coming our way when it arrived. it was as well that i did. i could do nothing except hope that the conflict would be as short and bloodless as possible. i had done everything possible to keep peace. late that afternoon i saw a number of small impis--bands of warriors numbering about one hundred and fifty men--leave the kraals and take to the hills in the general direction of zombode. these, tuys explained to me, were ambush parties whose work it was to lie in wait for warriors who might be rallying to the assistance of the old queen. "they are murder parties," he repeated, calling them by their right name, "and they will also act as scouts and spies. if they can waylay parties of inferior numbers, they will do so and kill every one of them. of course there are undoubtedly a number of such parties abroad now who belong in zombode. there will be a carnival of murder and assassination until one side gets up nerve enough to attack the headquarters of the other. all i hope is that tzaneen's indunas screw their courage to the attacking point first. i'd prefer to have this war fought out at zombode, and not here!" we all agreed with him and turned in that night "all standing." i did not go to sleep until very late, and it seemed only a few minutes before tuys routed me out to take my watch. i was on duty from about midnight until dawn, but nothing disturbed us. chapter xx lebombo threatened with attack--tzaneen flies to us for protection--victory for sebuza--labotsibeni's mysterious death--lomwazi spared for execution later--funeral sacrifice of the old queen--queen tzaneen in state--we are forced to join the royal impi. there must have been important developments during the night. shortly before sun-up i saw several thousand warriors leaving lebombo in the direction of the enemy. they marched swiftly and silently, and when they had gone the kraals appeared deserted. i wanted to send sibijaan over to find out what this movement meant, but was afraid to do so for fear that he might be mistaken for an enemy. when tuys waked, i told him about the impis leaving for zombode. at once he became intensely interested. "that is the end!" he declared. "we'll know who wins the war by noon. tzaneen's impis have gone to attack zombode, and i hope they take it. the sooner this business is ended, the better for all of us." shortly before noon a kaffir came out of the royal kraal and shouted in our direction. he waved his shield, and i sent sibijaan to see what he wanted. through my glasses i recognized him as one of the few old indunas i had seen in swaziland. there are practically no old men or women in the country. this is due to the rigid belief in the doctrine of the survival of the fittest, the old ones usually being removed when unable to protect themselves. this old induna was some sort of an officer for the queen and acted as a tutor for sebuza. his age prevented him from taking part in active warfare. sibijaan talked with him for a few minutes, and then turned and raced back to me. he was terribly excited and could hardly deliver the message. "ou baas, there is great danger!" he gasped. "queen tzaneen sends to you for help. she has received word that the impis of labotsibeni are coming to attack lebombo. thousands of warriors are now in the hills and will soon attack!" tuys and i were puzzled what to do. sugden decided for us. with his ready yankee wit, he hit upon the solution. "you haven't any chips in this game," he said, "and you've got to keep out of this war. but there's nothing to prevent you from offering sanctuary to a fugitive king, queen, ace, or jack! send to tzaneen and tell her to come over here, and we'll take care of her if the enemy comes! we'll have to fight for our own lives anyway, and it won't matter much if we add her to our responsibility." i sent sibijaan running with this message, and it was only a short time before queen tzaneen arrived with quite unseemly haste at our camp. in spite of her precarious position she kept her dignity, and we helped her up into the big wagon, where she hid under the cover with four of her maids-of-honor. to calm her nerves we gave her a bottle of gin. then followed one of those periods of suspense that seem as though they would never end. i searched the hills with my glasses, scanning every tree and boulder for the oncoming enemy. every now and then i would start when i saw a movement, but invariably it turned out to be caused by either a cow or a sheep. we practically held our breath for about four hours, waiting for an enemy which might wipe us out. that was a long long afternoon! about the time the shadow from the barren mountain fell across the royal kraal, which means shortly after five o'clock, our suspense came to an end. it ended with a shock that i will never forget. tuys and i were still searching the hills when sibijaan suddenly gripped my arm, his hand trembling so that i almost dropped my field-glasses. "look! look, mzaan bakoor!" he cried, pointing down the road which led to zombode. "there they come! shoot quick! shoot!" through the glasses i could see what looked like several impis straggling up the road. they marched fast, but without much attempt at formation. as i watched i could see that many of the warriors were dancing. i felt myself grow cold and hot by turns. our time had come! it was the army of labotsibeni advancing to attack lebombo and kill tzaneen and her white friends. tuys had the same thought, and he lowered his glasses and looked at me. a veteran campaigner, nothing flustered him, but he wanted to see how it affected me. a second later he put out his great hard hand and i shook it solemnly. "well, owen, we'll show them how white men can fight--and die, if need be," he said gruffly. "it has been a good game and we have done our best!" sugden and crespinell were watching the oncoming impis and coolly comparing the sights on their rifles, trying to agree on the proper distance to set them. this spoke for their courage, and i turned my glasses on the impis again. tuys was studying them, and suddenly he began to laugh in that deep bass way he has when he is highly amused. "we're damn fools, owen, damn fools!" he rumbled, with a chuckle. "those niggers are the impis of tzaneen and sebuza. the war is over! they are dancing with joy! they must have taken zombode and are coming home to tell us about it!" my glasses told me that he was right. my eyes are not so good as his or i would have known this before. now i could see that the warriors were drunk with triumph and were dancing to celebrate their victory. as they drew closer i could distinguish lochien and makets at their head. i called to queen tzaneen to come out, and informed her that her army was victorious and approaching. she climbed down from the wagon, and a moment later we all went forward to meet the impis. we reached the royal kraal shortly before lochien and makets, and we white men stood back while she received them. seeing the queen awaiting them, the indunas halted the warriors and they fell into formation. lochien paused until all were in place and then raised his arms in salute. the impis followed his lead and three times the royal salute was given, with the shrill whistle at its conclusion. tzaneen acknowledged the salute, and then lochien and makets stepped forward. "nkosikaas, zombode is ours! labotsibeni is dead and the war is won!" lochien cried. "even now sebuza is king in zombode and throughout all swaziland. king buno's son is king and our work is over!" "lochien, faithful induna and counsellor," tzaneen replied, "is my son, the king, wounded or hurt in any way? and did he carry himself in battle as should the son of buno?" lochien's answer satisfied her and she beamed with pride and joy. there were a few more leading questions and presently we went into the kraal. it was only then that i noted makets closely. he staggered as he walked and i was startled to see that he was bleeding from several wounds in the breast. i turned to help him, but he would have none of it. "nkoos, i am a warrior! i am an induna and a leader of warriors!" he boasted in a tired voice. "these wounds are nothing! to-day i have won seven scars of honor. seven of labotsibeni's warriors, great fighting men, fell before me!" he seemed much pleased with himself and had not fully recovered from his slaughter madness. i knew that he could take care of himself and paid no more attention to him. there were important things to be learned. i wanted to know how labotsibeni came to be killed and what had happened to lomwazi. tzaneen was almost beside herself with curiosity and began questioning lochien as soon as we were seated. "how was labotsibeni killed?" was her first question. "nkosakaas, i cannot answer that," lochien replied, and i could see that he was telling the truth. "strict orders were given that she be spared, so that the government might not hold king sebuza to account for her death. sebuza told the indunas that the man who harmed the old queen would die! all our warriors understood this. "when we came to her hut, however, she was dead. i think that some enemy in her own kraal stabbed her when we broke in and they all fled. perhaps some woman she had offended did it. labotsibeni was helpless and could be easily killed." it seemed a pitiful thing to me that labotsibeni, after ruling swaziland for so many years, should be murdered in this way. i was thinking about her when tzaneen asked about lomwazi. [illustration: a view of the kraal awaiting the arrival of the white men for their initiation ceremonies. the latter are returning from their sanctification ordeal in the mountains prior to their induction into the royal impi] [illustration: priests building the sacred fire on this pyre the body of queen labotsibeni was burned after sebuza seized the throne. this is the swazi custom and strictly adhered to. it is the swazi belief that those surrendering power should be done away with in this manner, since if they continued to live they might still retain a certain amount of influence which would be antagonistic and detrimental to the new ruler] "lomwazi is a prisoner, nkosikaas," lochien answered. "he will be killed after he has officially surrendered the throne. these are king sebuza's orders, and lomwazi is under guard in zombode until the coronation celebration is held." that settled the cunning lomwazi. clever as he was reputed to be, he had not been able to escape his fate. it later transpired that it was lomwazi who had sent the false alarm that lebombo was to be attacked. evidently he thought that the impis of the enemy would be kept on guard there and that he would be able to increase his army by delaying the attack he knew would be made on zombode. however, his word reached tzaneen too late, as the impis were already on the warpath. lochien next gave us an account of the taking of zombode. the old queen's opinion concerning the fighting quality of her impis was not far wrong. it seems there had been several hundred single combats, after the custom of the swazi warriors, and finally a rush upon the kraal. of course lochien exaggerated a great deal--no kaffir can tell the exact truth--but there must have been between four and five hundred killed. there were practically no wounded; there never are when swazis fight. as soon as a warrior wounds his enemy so that he is unable to fight back, he kills him. it developed that there had been an attempt to burn the kraals, but sebuza stopped it. it was he, also, who intervened to save lomwazi's life after that good fighter had killed several of sebuza's own men. lomwazi was not spared, however, through any mistaken sense of mercy; he was kept to be executed as part of the coronation ceremonies. when i heard this i made up my mind to save him if i could. if there was no other way, i would buy his life. this is often done, and it might be possible in lomwazi's case. lochien gave us many other details of the fight, remarking that there were many women in zombode and much loot. sebuza was to decide on the disposition of all enemy property and would have his hands full for some time to come. when lochien had finished queen tzaneen praised him highly for his loyalty and generalship, and, realizing that the story was told, we went back to our camp. i felt thankful that the war was over so quickly, and said as much to oom tuys. he quickly undeceived me. "maybe it is over in zombode and lebombo," he said, "but it is only beginning in the outlying districts. it won't be over for some time, perhaps for months. the news of this war will not reach lots of places for days, and when it does the factions will clash. wherever there are any indunas or warriors who are loyal to labotsibeni, there will be killing. it will be bad killing, too,--mostly murders done at night. it takes a long time to end a war in swaziland; that's one reason why the government is so set against it. by the way, i wonder what his majesty's royal high commissioner for swaziland thinks of things now?" this idea had occurred to me several times, but i always put it away because i had a feeling that the commissioner would place much of the blame for the war on my shoulders. tuys prediction about war continuing proved only too true. for weeks after the fall of zombode there were killings in the neighboring districts. the only battle of any importance took place at stegea, the kraal of umzulek. needless to say, the forces of that much-married potentate were victorious. of course many of these killings were due to personal feuds, the war being only an excuse for them. it is safe to say that swaziland was in a ferment for some time after sebuza seized the throne, and this came to the notice of the authorities in mbabane and johannesburg. the following day we went to zombode. word had come that the body of the old queen was to be burned on the sacrificial pyre and we wanted to witness the ceremony. there was not much to it. the burning took place shortly after dark and l'tunga arranged the ceremony. during the day we saw the huge pyre of dry wood on which the body was to be laid and the witch-doctors were still adding to it late in the afternoon. soon after sunset the impis of the king and his mother gathered about the great pile, which had been built up in a regular pattern. we were with lochien and vilakazi and were beginning to get bored when there came a commotion and king sebuza arrived with his bodyguard. there were a number of fires near the kraals and these were beginning to light up the darkness. after standing about a little longer it was dark enough to suit sebuza and he sent one of his indunas away in the direction of labotsibeni's brick-walled hut. shortly after there arose the cry "make way! make way!" and i saw the warriors draw back and leave a lane to the pyre. a moment later six witch-doctors arrived, two and two, bearing a rude stretcher on their shoulders. on this was a large bundle roughly resembling a body. it was the remains of queen labotsibeni, the most extraordinary native ruler south africa ever knew. l'tunga was waiting at the pyre and directed the witch-doctors how to place the body on its summit. when this was done, he stepped back and moved to the nearby fire, where he picked up a flaming brand in each hand. these he raised above his head with wide sweep and held them steady for a moment. then swiftly he brought the torches down and the warriors gave the royal salute--the last tribute to the murdered queen! this salute was repeated three times, and then l'tunga, assisted by the other witch-doctors, lighted the funeral pyre. the wood was dry and burned fiercely, and soon the leaping flames met over the body of the queen. that was the last of labotsibeni. next day we tried to have a talk with sebuza, with the idea of finding out how soon he planned to be officially installed as king. this was very important to me, since his coronation would mean the attainment of the object for which i had come to swaziland. i would be able to make an historical record of ceremonies which would be valuable as a vivid page out of the life of old south africa--the life that is passing so quickly now that white men are coming into the country in such numbers. sebuza sent word to us that he would see us in lebombo in two days, and we went back there to our camp. while we were finishing lunch lochien came with a request from queen tzaneen that we visit her. thinking that she was probably more interested in a bottle of gin than in us, i gave lochien one for her. he caught my thought and explained that the queen really wanted to see "all the white men." "she has important business to talk over with you, nkoos," he said, "and desires that you come to her at once." tuys thought it would be a good thing to do, since we were so near the coronation ceremonies, so we all put on our hats and followed lochien to the royal kraal. there was a noticeable change in manners there since sebuza had become king. instead of the former informality, we had to go through the salute and all the other ritual. tzaneen had revived the formal glories of old labotsibeni and i was amused to see how she enjoyed being kowtowed to. she had at least fifteen maids-in-waiting about her and had set up quite a court. even lochien was on his best behavior and went through the ceremony of presenting us to her with a neat little speech in which he made it appear that we had come as suppliants for her favor. i caught tuys's eye while this was going on and there was an amused twinkle in it. the wise old burgher had seen savages of all sorts and nothing they did astonished him so long as they continued to behave like grown-up children. when we were finally seated tzaneen explained the "important business." after we heard it we realized that lochien had spoken truly. "mzaan bakoor, 'mlung 'emantzi eenui, and makofa," she said, addressing me, sugden, and crespinell by our native names, "you have seen a queen die and a king made in swaziland. you know much about how these things are done. you know many things about the war that lobotsibini made against me and of which you were a part, for did you not carry out the demonstration that led to the killing?" i attempted to take her up on this statement, but tuys signaled me to keep quiet. nevertheless, i maintain that she was not just in blaming the first killings on us. "now you know that the government has set its face against my son, king sebuza," she went on, "and it may be some time before it will recognize him as the rightful king. when the news reaches mbabane that sebuza has seized the throne, the white chief there, who belongs to the government, will ask many questions. he will want to know much! "when you go to mbabane, or to your own home, the government will question you and ask how labotsibeni came to be killed. perhaps the government will want the truth, when a little lie would work much less harm here in swaziland. is it not so?" i began to see what she was driving at. tzaneen was afraid that the government would get after sebuza for taking the throne by force and she wished to make sure that we would protect her son as much as possible. she had been talking at me, but now she turned to tuys. "nkoos tuys, you are the brother of buno," she said, "and buno gave his people into your care. you are the white king of my country and you will protect us from the government if need be. i need not ask you to be careful when they question you. i only ask that you advise mzaan bakoor and his men how to avoid rousing the government against us." "nkosikaas, i will answer for mzaan bakoor and his men with my life," tuys answered. "mzaan bakoor is blood of my blood and inherits my trust as guardian of the swazis when i die. buno decreed this as he died." tzaneen nodded her approval at this brave speech of oom tuys and then was thoughtful for a time. i could see that she was still doubtful and that the fear of the long, slow, but dreadfully sure arm of the government was still upon her. presently she raised her head and looked at me, and her eyes flashed a sudden resolve. "there is one way that i can be certain of your loyalty, mzaan bakoor," she said, without mincing words, "and that is by making you an induna of the swazis. you and your two men shall become indunas in the royal impi. never before has a white man been worthy to be taken into a swazi impi, and you shall be the first!" this was a decided shock. i had never thought i would like to be a swazi, even if i were an induna. in fact, i would not have enjoyed being king of swaziland, with all the power that buno had. but here we were face to face with the proposition of being forced to become indunas in the crack impi of the new king of swaziland. even the distinction of being the first white men to be admitted did not lessen the blow. i was at a loss what to say to tzaneen. she had the air of having conferred the highest possible honor on us, but i sat there speechless, wondering how to avoid becoming a boer-swazi. it was good old reliable tuys who saved the situation, but ruined us. "nkosikaas, you have done mzaan bakoor and his men the greatest honor," he said, "and they will gladly become indunas of your impi. they will go to their homes proud to say that they are your indunas!" then the wily old boer poured out a lot more flattery which tzaneen swallowed without blinking an eye. while he talked i thought the matter over. it looked like a hopeless case; i could see no way out of it. if we wished to see sebuza crowned, we would have to go through with this induna business. "oom tuys has spoken for us," i told tzaneen, after tuys had finished complimenting her. "for the rest of our lives we shall be proud to say that we are indunas of your impi. our children will also be proud of it and will tell their children!" tzaneen appreciated this, too, and liked it. then i asked a question that was close to my heart. "when is it planned to hold the formal ceremonies of making sebuza king of swaziland?" "in about fourteen days," she answered. "the celebration of his coronation will take place at the same time that you are made indunas. you will return from the mountains after ten days, and by that time all the people of swaziland will have come to lebombo and there will be the greatest celebration any one has ever seen." so this had all been planned, i thought, and then it came over me with a jolt that we must go into exile in the mountains for a "puclandi," or space of ten days, before we would be sufficiently sanctified to become indunas. "l'tunga will take charge of you until you return from the mountains," the queen added, "and he will prepare you for your indunaship." this ended our chat, and we went back to camp most unhappy in mind. sugden was furious and so was i, but crespinell regarded it as rather a joke. tuys declared we would have to go through with it and had better make the best of it. that night he cheered us up by telling us how we would have to live, what we would have to eat, and what l'tunga would do to us. i think the old fellow had more fun chaffing us about our becoming "white swazis" than he had had in a long time. some of his remarks were pointed, and sugden promised him that he would set his impi after him just as soon as he became a "sanctified induna." chapter xxi our sanctification in exile--hardships in the hills--oom tuys saves lomwazi's life--the celebration--lomwazi formally surrenders the throne--sebuza acknowledged as king--we are inducted into the royal impi--mbabane sends for information--we escape through portuguese territory to america. there was even less humor about the induna business next morning. bright and early l'tunga arrived at our camp with a solemn expression on his face and a corps of assistant witch-doctors. we had eaten the largest breakfast possible, because tuys had advised us to eat one more white man's meal "before you go into the mountains and fight the goats for their food." i remember thinking that there were times when the rough and ready humor of this burgher was in very bad taste. l'tunga had little to say. he told us to follow him, and we three white men meekly did so. on either side of us was our escort of witch-doctors, and i had all the sensations of being marched to my execution. we were taken to l'tunga's kraal and into a large hut, where we were ordered to take off all our clothes. i thought sugden would explode, but he shut his mouth and took it out in murderous looks. crespinell, being a modest soul, was unhappy about removing his garments, but there was nothing to do except to follow instructions. i tried to cheer sugden by remarking in english to him that he would soon be an induna if his luck held. his only reply was, "induna? hell!" crespinell was too far gone for words. when we had stripped l'tunga presented each of us with a full swazi warrior's costume, telling us to put this on. thankful for anything to cover our nakedness, we did so as quickly as we could. then our witch-doctor friend ordered us to come out of the hut, and we did. we certainly were the handsomest white swazis that ever carried a shield! tuys was hanging around the kraal, and the twinkle in his eyes when he saw us marched out to start on our long walk to the hills was worth seeing. we did not appreciate it, however, for the hot earth hurt our feet. it would be impossible to detail our experiences during this exile. i am sure no white men ever suffered more than we did. we were bitten by insects, scratched by a million thorns, scorched by the sun during the day and nearly frozen at night, and our feet were in constant agony. in spite of l'tunga's tutoring, we could not find enough food, so that we nearly starved. there was only one bright spot. some young women traveling across the mountains ran across us and gave us food. except for this aid, i feel sure we would never have survived the ordeal. after the first day or two the only fun we got out of it was enjoyment of each other's misery. in addition to our actual physical suffering, we were in constant dread lest we be bitten by some poisonous snake, of which there are many in these hills. but such suffering must have an end. on the appointed morning l'tunga and his assistants arrived and escorted us back to lebombo. how we ever got there i cannot understand. our feet were practically useless, and we must have walked on sheer nerve. no sooner did we arrive at lebombo than we were ushered into the presence of the queen. we were a sorry looking group. each had a ten days' growth of beard and a famished look in his eyes. tzaneen was very cordial and assured us that we had come through our sanctification with flying colors. she congratulated us on our hardihood and said we would make brave indunas. when i interpreted to sugden later the "brave indunas" part of her speech, i thought he would have a fit. "if i get through this alive," he exclaimed, "i'll never see a pullman porter without wanting to kill him! i don't care how soon the british send a flying column and wipe out all the swazis. i hope they start with l'tunga, and make tzaneen and sebuza close seconds!" tzaneen had been right when she told us that all swaziland would come to see sebuza made king. all the kraals at lebombo were crowded, and there were thousands of people camped out around the village. tuys estimated that there must have been nearly thirty thousand swazis there, a good half of whom were warriors. during our exile in the hills word had gone throughout the land that the celebration would take place at the end of ten days, and the people had flocked in from all directions. the celebration began the day after our return from the hills. tuys had learned that the first event would be the official turning over of the throne by lomwazi, who had been brought from lebombo for that purpose. following this, there would be a giant reception to sebuza, during which all the warriors would acknowledge him as king. i was curious about lomwazi. if sebuza ran true to heredity, his life was not worth much. "what will happen to lomwazi when he has turned over the kingdom to sebuza?" i asked tuys. "sebuza was very anxious to kill him a little while ago. is lomwazi going to be executed as part of the festivities?" "while you were away i made up my mind to try and save lomwazi's life," tuys said; "not from any love for him, but because he is the ablest swazi i know and may be useful to me some day. i have worked on tzaneen and sebuza until they have agreed to spare his life. to tell the truth, i frightened them into it. i told them that the news of lomwazi's death would surely bring the government rifles into swaziland and that the first targets they would seek would be sebuza and his mother. it took a long time, but they finally agreed to turn lomwazi over to me. i am to be responsible for him and see that he makes no trouble for sebuza or his mother. lomwazi does not know about this, and he won't until after he has turned over the throne." when the ceremonies started sebuza stood on a small mound of the little plain in front of the kraals, with his "cabinet" behind him. l'tunga was there and all the principal indunas, among whom were lochien, vilakazi, and a number of those who had taken part in the capture of zombode. grouped in a tremendous semi-circle about them were thousands of the swazi people. they were waiting patiently for the affair to begin. we white men remained a little to one side, and soon we saw a small body of men coming from the kraals. when they drew closer we could discern lomwazi in their midst. he was not bound, but carried no arms and wore no ornaments. all the men guarding him were indunas. they marched their prisoner in front of sebuza, and we came nearer so that we might hear. "lomwazi, brother of buno and traitor to his son," sebuza began. "you have lost in the war you started against me and now your life is mine. labotsibeni is dead and i have sent for you to surrender the throne to me so that the people of swaziland may know who is king. do you give up the throne?" lomwazi was game. he knew that he faced death, but he never dropped his eyes or lowered his head. he looked straight at sebuza and squared his shoulders. "now that queen labotsibeni has been murdered, the son of buno is the rightful heir to the throne," he replied in his deep voice. "nkoos, you are that son and the throne is yours!" that was all he would say, and i saw sebuza catch tuys's eye. he seemed to change his mind suddenly, and then spoke to lomwazi again. "your life is mine," he said, with a certain amount of petty triumph, "and i can do with it as i please. i have given it to oom tuys, the white king of swaziland, the friend of my father, who will do with you as he desires." tuys then stepped forward and motioned the indunas to move away from lomwazi. the savage regarded him fixedly for a moment, and tuys stretched out his hand. lomwazi was stunned by the change in his fortunes, but a second later gripped the hand and followed tuys as he retreated into the group behind the mound on which sebuza stood. next the warriors formed into impis and, led by their indunas in all their savage trappings, began marching past the young king. each impi would halt in front of him and give the royal salute, thus acknowledging him as their ruler. it seemed to me that there was an endless procession of these savages, all of them fully costumed and armed for battle. when this march past was over and sebuza had thus been officially recognized as king by the swazis, the royal impi was sent for and lined up in front of the "reviewing stand." we were in the background, waiting at the appointed place, and l'tunga came and beckoned us to follow him. i remember how my feet still hurt as we swung in behind him, carrying our shields like real warriors and trying to step out as though we were kin to these savages. [illustration: mr. crespinell at home among his black brethren] [illustration: dr. sugden, prince lomwazi, and dr. o'neil] [illustration: dr. o'neil, mr. crespinell, and dr. sugden after their induction into the royal impi this was one of the conditions insisted upon by queen tzaneen to prove their allegiance to her. clad in this fashion, the three white men lived in the mountains for ten days, their only food consisting of what they could gather or kill in the wilderness. they are the only white men who have ever been accepted officially into a swazi impi] we halted in front of sebuza and there followed a moment's silence. i could see the thousands upon thousands of swazis watching us, and it gave me a peculiar, isolated feeling. sugden and crespinell kept their eyes on sebuza, and i knew exactly what the doctor was thinking. if his wishes had come true, sebuza would have choked right there. then sebuza made a speech. "white indunas of the royal impi," he said, addressing us in a loud, clear voice. "you have proved worthy to be blood brothers of the warriors who guard the king. you have been sanctified and have borne the ordeal without flinching. from now on you are swazis and entitled to all the privileges of my chosen indunas." there was a good deal more, for sebuza liked to hear himself talk. as he rambled on i heard sugden make a remark out of the corner of his mouth to crespinell, which brought a blush to that young induna's tanned cheek. "he's going to tell how many wives we can have in a minute," he whispered. "i hope you get nice fat ones!" when sebuza finally finished, he motioned to me to come forward. i did so and stood just below him on the mound. an induna handed him a plumed headdress and he placed it on my head. it was much as though he were conferring a decoration. i stepped back, and sugden took my place and received his headdress. crespinell followed, and then we turned and faced the royal impi. sebuza gave a sign and the impi saluted us. then we stepped into its ranks and we all saluted the king. that was the end of the ceremony that made us the only white men to hold commissions in the royal impi of swaziland. after leaving the "parade ground" we were only too thankful to hobble back to camp and minister to our numerous scratches, cuts, and abrasions. but we had not yet come to the end of our torture! din, however, practically saved our lives by rubbing some concoction he made on our abused feet. it eased them wonderfully and made it possible for us to get through the rest of that day. the same afternoon the real celebration started. every one had been drinking tswala, some of which runs as high as twelve per cent. in alcohol, and this seemed to add to their desire to dance. the warriors danced before the royal kraal, and we had to perform with our impi. in spite of din's treatment, it was agony. the ground was hard and blistering hot. sugden's remark that "the hobs of hell have nothing on this" was fully justified. but we went through with it somehow. in addition, we were able to get many pictures of the dancing, and crespinell even took some of sugden and myself doing our best to be true swazi indunas. the dancing continued all that afternoon and late into the night. as soon as it became dark hundreds of great fires were lighted, and it was a weird sight to see these thousands of savages leaping and prancing in their light. the celebration lasted for three full days and nights and on the morning of the fourth the visiting tribesmen set off for their homes. there was a general exodus, so that by nightfall lebombo had returned to its wonted calm. when i saw how empty it was, i realized that tuys's estimate of the number of people who attended the celebration was very conservative. we were resting and recuperating after the ordeal of becoming "white swazis" when lochien came in haste to see us. we were about packed up and expected to leave lebombo within a few days. lochien was troubled and wanted our advice. "a messenger has come from mbabane," he said. "he says that the government will not allow sebuza to be king. the government chief has heard that labotsibeni is dead and wants to know how she died. tzaneen wishes you would tell her what to say to the messenger." this was unpleasant news. i had not believed that the government would interfere when it heard that sebuza had actually been made king and that all swaziland was rejoicing over it. there was only one thing to tell the messenger. "tell tzaneen to speak the truth to the messenger," i directed. "tell her to say that she does not know how labotsibeni was killed. if the messenger asks about the war, tell the queen to explain how labotsibeni's warriors attacked her indunas and killed them, and that she made war only to protect her people." lochien took these instructions to tzaneen, but the event gave me food for serious thought. if the government was sending messengers to ask questions, it would soon send white investigators--and then would come trouble. that night i called on the queen and informed her that i intended leaving swaziland as quickly as possible. she seemed much upset at this and besought me to stay for several moons more. i gathered that she was afraid to face the authorities alone. i pointed out to her that my return to my own world was imperative, and finally she agreed to let me go. "nkoos, you will always remember that you are a swazi induna," she said, in parting. "now you are one of my people and must always remain loyal to me!" i promised. i shall always remember her last words. she drew herself up to her full height and threw out her arms in an eloquent gesture. "when you go, mzaan bakoor, all the sunshine goes out of my life!" she said, and then turned to enter her hut. sunrise next morning saw us trekking for delagoa bay. oom tuys brought lomwazi with us, and it was understood that he would return to his kraal, far removed from lebombo, as soon as it was safe for him to re-enter swaziland. ten days later we reached delagoa bay, where we were lucky enough to find a steamer on which i engaged passage for our party to new york. the end with the boer forces by howard c. hillegas author of "oom paul's people," and correspondent of "the new york world" with twenty-three illustrations and a plan methuen & co. essex street w.c. london [illustration: commandant-general louis botha] preface in the following pages i have endeavoured to present an accurate picture of the boers in war-time. my duties as a newspaper correspondent carried me to the boer side, and herein i depict all that i saw. some parts of my narrative may not be pleasing to the british reader; others may offend the sensibilities of the boer sympathisers. i have written truthfully, but with a kindly spirit and with the intention of presenting an unbiased account of the struggle as it was unfolded to the view from the boer side. i shall be criticised, no doubt, for extolling certain virtues of the boers, but it must be noticed that their shortcomings are not neglected in these lines. in referring to boer deeds of bravery i do not mean to insinuate that all british soldiers were cowards any more than i mean to imply that all boers were brave, but any man who has been with armies will acknowledge that bravery is not the exclusive property of the peoples of one nation. the boers themselves had thousands of examples of the bravery of their opponents, and it was not an extraordinary matter to hear burghers express their admiration of deeds of valour by the soldiers of the queen. the burghers, it may be added, were not bitter enemies of the british soldiers, and upon hundreds of occasions they displayed the most friendly feeling toward members of the imperial forces. the boer respected the british soldier's ability, but the same respect was not vouchsafed to the british officer, and it was not unreasonable that a burgher should form such an opinion of the leaders of his enemy, for the mistakes of many of the british officers were so frequent and costly that the most unmilitary man could easily discern them. on that account the boers' respect for the british soldier was not without its mixture of pity. there are those who will assert that there was no goodness in the boers and that they conducted the war unfairly, but i shall make no attempt to deny any of the statements on those subjects. my sympathies were with the boers, but they were not so strong that i should tell untruths in order to whiten the boer character. there were thieves among them--i had a horse and a pair of field-glasses stolen from me on my first journey to the front--but that does not prove that all the boers were wicked. i spent many weeks with them, in their laagers, commandos, and homes, and i have none but the happiest recollections of my sojourn in the boer country. the generals and burghers, from the late commandant-general joubert to the veriest takhaar, were extremely courteous and agreeable to me, and i have nothing but praise for their actions. in all my experiences with them i never saw one maltreat a prisoner or a wounded man, but, on the contrary, i observed many of their acts of kindness and mercy to their opponents. i have sought to eliminate everything which might have had a bearing on the causes of the war, and in that i think i have succeeded. in my former book, dealing with the boers in peaceful times, i gave my impressions of the political affairs of the country, and a closer study of the subject has not caused me to alter my opinions. three years before the war began, i wrote what has been almost verified since-- "the boers will be able to resist and to prolong the campaign for perhaps eight months or a year, but they will finally be obliterated from among the nations of the earth. it will cost the british empire much treasure and many lives, but it will satisfy those who caused it, the south african politicians and speculators." the first part of the prediction has been realised, but at the present time there is no indication that the boer nation will be extinguished so completely or so suddenly, unless the leaders of the burghers yield to their enemy's forces before all their powers and means of resistance have been exhausted. if they will continue to fight as men who struggle for the continued existence of their country and government should fight, and as they have declared they will go on with the war, then it will be three times eight months or three times a year before peace comes to south africa. presidents kruger and steyn have declared that they will continue the struggle for three years, and longer if necessary. de wet will never yield as long as he has fifty burghers in his commando, and botha will fight until every british soldier has been driven from south african soil. hundreds of the burghers have made even firmer resolutions to continue the war until their cause is crowned with victory. there may be some among them who fought and are fighting because they despise britons and british rule, but the vast majority are on commando because they firmly believe that great britain is attempting to take their country and their government from them by the process of theft which we enlightened anglo-saxons of america and england are wont to style "benevolent assimilation." they feel that they have the right to govern their country in accordance with their own ideas of justice and equality, and, naturally, they will continue to fight until they are victorious, or might asserts itself over their conception of right. if they have the power to make great britain feel that their cause is just, as our forefathers in america did a hundred years ago, then the boers have vindicated themselves and their actions in their own eyes and in the eyes of the world. if they lack in the patriotism which men who fight for the life of their country usually possess, then the boers of south africa will be exterminated from among the nations of the world and no one will offer any sympathy to them. we anglo-saxons of america and great britain have a habit of calling our enemies by names which would arouse the fighting blood of the most peaceable individual, and when there is a venezuelan question to be discussed we do not hesitate to practice this custom, born of our blood-alliance, by making each other the subjects of the vituperative attacks. during the spanish-american war we made most uncomplimentary remarks concerning our short-lived enemy, and more recently we have been emphasising the vices of our _protégés_, the filipinos, with a scornful disregard of their virtues. the boers, however, have had a greater burden to bear. they have had cast at them the shafts of british vituperation and the lyddite of american venom. in a few instances the lyddite was far more harrowing than the shafts, and in the vast majority of instances both were born of ignorance. there are unclean, uncouth, and unregenerate boers, and i doubt whether any one will stultify himself by declaring that there are none such of britons and americans. i have been among the boers in times of peace and in times of war, and i have always failed to see that they were in any degree lower than the men of like rank or occupation in america or england. the farmers in rustenburg probably never saw a dress suit or a _décolleté_ gown, but there are innumerable regions in america and great britain where similarly dense ignorance prevails. i have been in scores of american and british homes which were not more spotlessly clean than some of the houses on the veld in which it was my pleasure to find a night's entertainment, and nowhere, except in my own home, have i ever been treated with more courtesy than that which was extended to me, a perfect stranger, in scores of daub and wattle cottages in the free state and the transvaal. i will not declare that every boer is a saint, or that every one is a model of cleanliness or virtue, but i make bold to say that the majority of the boers are not a fraction less moral, cleanly, or virtuous than the majority of americans or englishmen, albeit they may be less progressive and less handsome in appearance than we imagine ourselves to be. as i have stated, the politics of the war has found no part in the following pages, and an honest effort has been made to give an impartial account of the proceedings as they unfolded themselves before the eyes of an american. the struggle is one which was brought about by the politicians, but it will probably be ended by the layman who wields a sword, and who knows nothing of the intricacies of diplomacy. the boers desire to gain nothing but their countries' independence; the british have naught to lose except thousands of valuable lives if they continue in their determination to erase the two nations. unless the boers soon decide to end the war voluntarily, the real struggle will only begin when the imperial forces enter the mountainous region in the north-eastern part of the transvaal, and then general lucas meyer's prophecy that the bones of one hundred thousand british soldiers will lay bleaching on the south african veld before the british are victorious may be more than realised. one word more. the english public is generous, and will not forget that the boers are fighting in the noblest of all causes--the independence of their country. if englishmen will for a moment place themselves in the position of the boers, if they will imagine their own country overrun by hordes of foreign soldiers, their own inferior forces gradually driven back to the wilds of wales and scotland, they will be able to picture to themselves the feelings of the men whom they are hunting to death. would englishmen in these circumstances give up the struggle? they would not; they would fight to the end. howard c. hillegas. new york city, august , . contents chapter i. the way to the boer country the blockade at delagoa bay--lorenzo marques in war-time--portuguese tax-raising methods--the way to the transvaal--koomatipoort, the boer threshold--the low-veld or fever country--old-time battlefields--the boer capital and its scenes--the city of peace and its inhabitants. chapter ii. from farm to battlefield the old-time lions and lion-hunters and the modern types--lion-hunting expeditions of the boers--the conference between the hunters and the lions--the great lion-hunt of - --departure to the hunting-grounds. chapter iii. composition of the army burghers, not soldiers--home-sickness in the laagers--boys in commandos--the penkop regiment--great-grandfathers in battles--the takhaar burghers--boers' unfitness for soldiering--their uniforms--comfort in the laagers--prayers and religious fervour in the army. chapter iv. the army organisation the election of officers--influences which assert themselves--civil officials the leaders in war--the krijgsraad and its verdicts--lack of discipline among the burghers--generals calling for volunteers to go into battle--boers' scouting and intelligence departments. chapter v. the boer military system the disparity between the forces--a national and natural system of fighting--every burgher a general--the boers' mobility--the retreat of the three generals from cape colony--difference in boer and british equipment--boer courage exemplified. chapter vi. the boers in battle fighting against forces numerically superior--the battle at sannaspost--the trek towards the enemy--the scenes along the route--the night trek--finding the enemy, and the disposition of the forces in the spruit and on the hills--the dawn of day and the preparation for battle--the commandant-general fires the first shot--the battle in detail--friend and foe sing "soldiers of the queen." chapter vii. the generals of the war farmer-generals who were without military experience--a few who studied military matters--leaders chosen by the volksraad--operating in familiar territory--joubert's part in the campaign--his failure in natal--his death and its influence--general cronje, the lion of pochefstroom, and his career--general botha and his work as successor of joubert--generals meyer, de wet, and de la rey, with narratives concerning each. chapter viii. the war presidents the boers' real leader in peace and in war--bismarck's opinion of kruger--the president's duties in pretoria--his visits to the laagers and the influence he exerted over the disheartened burghers--his oration over joubert's body--his opinion of the british, and of those whom he blamed for the war--his departure from pretoria--president steyn and his work during the war. chapter ix. foreigners in the war the soldier of fortune in every war--the fascination which attracts men to fight--the boers' view of foreigners--the influx of foreigners into the boer country in search of loot, commissions, fame, and experience--few foreigners were of great assistance--the oath of allegiance--number of foreigners in the boer army--the various legions and their careers. chapter x. boer women in the war boer women's glorious heritage--their part in the political arena before the war--urged the men to fight for their independence--assisting their embarrassed government in furnishing supplies to the army--helping the poor, the wounded, and the prisoners--sending relatives back to the ranks--women taking part in battles--asking the government for permission to fight. chapter xi. incidents of the war amusing tales told and retold by the burghers--boy-burghers at magersfontein capture highlanders' rifles--the takhaar at colenso, who belonged to "rhodes' uncivilised boer regiment"--photographers in battle--the heliographers at the tugela amusing themselves--joubert's story of the irishman who wanted to be sent to pretoria--the value of credentials in warfare as shown by an american burgher's escapade--the amusing flight after the fall of bloemfontein. appendix. the strength of the boer army list of illustrations commandant-general louis botha (_photograph by r. steger, pretoria._) general lucas j. meyer (_photograph by leo weinthal, pretoria._) battlefield of colenso, december , (_photograph by r. steger, pretoria._) boers watching the fight at dundee (_photograph by reginald sheppard, pretoria._) electing a field-cornet (_photograph by the author._) krijgsraad, near thaba n'chu (_photograph by the author._) boer commandants reading message from british officers after the battle of dundee (_photograph by reginald sheppard._) general grobler (_photograph by the author._) spion kop, where boers charged up the hillside (_photograph by reginald sheppard._) plan of battlefield of sannaspost (_drawn by the author under supervision of general christian de wet._) village and mountain of thaba n'chu (_photograph by the author._) the author, and a basuto pony which assisted in the fight at sannaspost (_photograph by t.f. millard, new york._) calling for volunteers to man captured cannon after sannaspost (_photograph by the author._) commandant-general christian h. de wet (_with facsimile of his signature._) general peter de wet (_photograph by the author._) general john de la rey (_photograph by the author._) president kruger addressing american volunteers (_photograph by r. steger._) battlefield of elandslaagte (_photograph by van hoepen._) colonel john e. blake, of the irish brigade (_photograph by leo weinthal._) mrs. general lucas j. meyer (_photograph by leo weinthal._) mrs. otto krantz, a boer amazon (_photograph by r. steger._) mrs. commandant-general louis botha (_photograph by leo weinthal, pretoria._) general hendrik snyman first british prisoners of war captured near dundee (_photograph by reginald sheppard._) chapter i the way to the boer country immediately after war was declared between great britain and the boers of the transvaal and the orange free state, the two south african republics became ostracised, in a great measure, from the rest of the civilised world. the cables and the great ocean steamship lines, which connected south africa with europe and america, were owned by british companies, and naturally they were employed by the british government for its own purposes. nothing which might in any way benefit the boers was allowed to pass over these lines and, so far as it was possible, the british government attempted to isolate the republics so that the outside world could have no communication of any sort with them. with the exception of a small strip of coast-land on the indian ocean, the two republics were completely surrounded by british territory, and consequently it was not a difficult matter for the great empire to curtail the liberties of the boers to as great an extent as it was pleasing to the men who conducted the campaign. the small strip of coast-land, however, was the property of a neutral nation, and, therefore, could not be used for british purposes of stifling the boer countries, but the nation which "rules the waves" exhausted every means to make the boers' air-hole as small as possible by placing a number of warships outside the entrance of delagoa bay, and by establishing a blockade of the port of lorenzo marques. lorenzo marques, in itself, was valueless to the boers, for it had always been nothing more than a vampire feeding upon the transvaal, but as an outlet to the sea and as a haven for foreign ships bearing men, arms, and encouragement it was invaluable. in the hands of the boers delagoa bay would have been worse than useless, for the warships could have taken possession of it and sealed it tightly on the first day of the war, but as a portuguese possession it was the only friend that the boers were able to find during their long period of need. without it, the boers would have been unable to hold any intercourse with foreign countries, no envoys could have been despatched, no volunteers could have entered the country, and they would have been ignorant of the opinion of the world--a factor in the brave resistance against their enemy which was by no means infinitesimal. delagoa bay was the boers' one window through which they could look at the world, and through which the world could watch the brave struggle of the farmer-citizens of the veld-republics. the portuguese authorities at delagoa bay long ago established a reputation for adroitness in extracting revenues whenever and wherever it was possible to find a stranger within their gates, but the war afforded them such excellent opportunities as they had never enjoyed before. being the gate of the boer country was a humanitarian privilege, but it also was a remunerative business, and never since vasco de gama discovered the port were so many choice facilities afforded for increasing the revenue of the colony. nor was the latin's mind wanting in concocting schemes for filling the portuguese coffers when the laws were lax on the subject, for it was the simplest arrangement to frame a regulation suitable for every new condition that arose. the portuguese were willing to be the medium between the boers and the people of other parts of the earth, but they asked for and received a large percentage of the profits. when the mines of the johannesburg gold district were closed down, and the portuguese heard that they would no longer receive a compulsory contribution of four shillings from every native who crossed the border to work in the mines, the officials felt uneasy on account of the great decrease in the amount of public revenues, but it did not worry them for any great length of time. they met the situation by imposing a tax of eight shillings upon every one of the thousands of natives who returned from the mines to their homes in portuguese territory. about the same time the uitlanders from the transvaal reached lorenzo marques, and, in order to calm the portuguese mind, every one of the thousands of men and women who took part in that exodus was compelled to pay a transit tax, ranging from eight shillings to a sovereign, according to the size of the tip tendered to the official. when the van of the foreign volunteers reached the port there was a new situation to be dealt with, and again the principle of "when in doubt impose a tax" was satisfactorily employed. men who had just arrived in steamers, and who had never seen portuguese territory, were obliged to secure a certificate, indicating that they had not been inhabitants of the local jail during the preceding six months; a certificate from the consular representative of their country, showing that they possessed good characters; another from the governor-general to show that they did not purpose going into the transvaal to carry arms; a fourth from the local transvaal consul to indicate that he held no objections to the traveller's desire to enter the boer country; and one or two other passports equally weighty in their bearing on the subject were necessary before a person was able to leave the town. each one of these certificates was to be secured only upon the payment of a certain number of thousand reis and at an additional expenditure of time and nervous energy, for none of the officials could speak a word of any language except portuguese, and all the applicants were men of other nationalities and tongues. the expenditure in connection with the certificates was more than a sovereign for every person, and as there were thousands of travellers into the boer countries while the war continued the revenues of the government were correspondingly great. to crown it all, the portuguese imposed the same tax upon all travellers who came into the country from the transvaal with the intention of sailing to other ports. the government could not be charged with favouritism in the matter of taxation, for every man, woman, and child who stepped on portuguese soil was similarly treated. there was no charge for entering the country, but the jail yawned for him who refused to pay when leaving it. not unlike the patriots in cape town and durban, the hotel and shopkeepers of lorenzo marques took advantage of the presence of many strangers and made extraordinary efforts to secure the residue of the money which did not fall into the coffers of the government. at the cardoza hotel, the only establishment worthy of the name, a tax of a sovereign was levied for sleeping on a bare floor; drivers of street cabs scorned any amount less than a golden sovereign for carrying one passenger to the consulates; lemonades were two shillings each at the kiosks; and physicians charged three pounds a call when travellers remained in the town several days and contracted the deadly coast-fever. at the custom house duties of ten shillings were levied upon foreign flags, unless the officer was liberally tipped, in which event it was not necessary to open the luggage. it was a veritable harvest for every one who chose to take advantage of the opportunities offered, and there were but few who did not make the foreigners their victims. the blockade by the british warships placed a premium upon dishonesty, and of those who gained most by it the majority were british subjects. the vessels which succeeded in passing the blockading warships were invariably consigned to englishmen, and without exception these were unpatriotic enough to sell the supplies to agents employed by the transvaal government. just as britons sold guns and ammunition to the boers before the war, these men of the same nation made exorbitant profits on supplies which were necessary to the burgher army. lorenzo marques was filled with men who were taking advantage of the state of affairs to grow wealthy by means which were not legitimate, and the leaders in almost every enterprise of that nature were british subjects, although there were not a few germans, americans, and frenchmen who succeeded in making the fortunes they deserved for remaining in such a horrible pest-hole as lorenzo marques. the railroad from lorenzo marques to ressana garcia, at the transvaal border, was interesting only from the fact that it was more historical than comfortable for travelling purposes. as the train passed through the dry, dusty, and uninteresting country, which was even too poor and unhealthy for the blacks, the mind speculated upon the proposition whether the swiss judges who decided the litigation concerning the road would have spent ten years in making a decision if they had been compelled to conduct their deliberation within sight of the railway. the land adjoining the railroad was level, well timbered and well watered, and the vast tracts of fine grass give the impression that it might be an excellent country for farming, but it was in the belt known as the fever district, and white men avoided it as they would a cholera-infested city. shortly before the train arrived at the english river several lofty white-stone pyramids on either side of the railway were passed, and the transvaal was reached. a long iron bridge spanning the river was crossed, and the train reached the first station in the boer country, koomatipoort. courteous boer officials entered the train and requested the passengers to disembark with all their luggage, for the purpose of custom-examination. no gratuities were accepted there, as at lorenzo marques, and nothing escaped the vigilance of the bearded inspectors. trunks and luggage were carefully scrutinised, letters read line by line and word for word; revolvers and ammunition promptly confiscated if not declared; and even the clothing of the passengers was faithfully examined. passports were closely investigated, and, when all appeared to be thoroughly satisfactory, a white cross was chalked on the boots of the passengers, and they were free to proceed farther inland. the field-cornet of the district was one of the few boers at the station, and he performed the duties of his office by introducing himself to certain passengers whom he believed to be foreign volunteers, and offering them gratuitous railway tickets to pretoria. no effort was made to conceal the fact that the volunteers were welcome in the country, and nothing was left undone to make the foreigners realise that their presence was appreciated. after koomatipoort was passed the train crept slowly into the mountainous district, where huge peaks pierced the clouds and gigantic boulders overhung the tracks. narrow defiles stretched away in all directions and the sounds of cataracts in the crocodile river flowing alongside the iron path drowned the roar of the train. flowering, vari-coloured plants, huge cacti, and thick tropical vegetation lined the banks of the river, and occasionally the thatched roof of a negro's hut peered out over the undergrowth, to indicate that a few human beings chose that wild region for their abode. hour after hour the train crept along narrow ledges up the mountains' sides, then dashed down declines and out upon small level plains which, with their surrounding and towering eminences, had the appearance of vast green bowls. in that impregnable region lay the small town of machadodorp, which, later, became the capital of the transvaal. a few houses of corrugated iron, a pretty railway-station, and much scenery, serves as a worthy description of the town at the junction of the purposed railway to the gold-fields of lydenberg. after a journey of twelve hours through the fever country the train reached the western limit of that belt and rested for the night in a small, green, cup-shaped valley bearing the descriptive name of waterval onder--"under the waterfall." the weary passengers found more corrugated iron buildings and the best hotel in south africa. the host, monsieur mathis, a french boer, and his excellent establishment came as a breath of fresh air to a stifling traveller on the desert, and long will they live in the memories of the thousands of persons who journeyed over the railroad during the war. after the monotonous fare of an east-coast steamer and the mythical meals of a lorenzo marques hotel, the roast venison, the fresh milk and eggs of mathis were as welcome as the odour of the roses that filled the valley. the beginning of the second day's journey was characterised by a ride up and along the sides of a magnificent gorge through which the waters of the crocodile river rushed from the lofty plateau of the high veld to the wildernesses of the fever country and filled that miniature south african switzerland with myriads of rainbows. a long, curved, and inclined tunnel near the top of the mountain led to the undulating plains of the transvaal--a marvellously rapid transition from a region filled with nature's wildest panoramas to one that contained not even a tree or rock or cliff to relieve the monotony of the landscape. on the one side of this natural boundary line was an immense territory every square mile of which contained mountain passes which a handful of boers could hold against an invading army; on the other side there was hardly a rock behind which a burgher rifleman could conceal himself. here herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, instead of wild beasts, sped away from the roar of the train; here there was the daub and wattle cottage of the farmer instead of the thatched hut of the native savage. small towns of corrugated iron and mud-brick homes and shops appeared at long intervals on the veld; grass-fires displayed the presence of the boer farmer with his herds, and the long ox-teams slowly rolling over the plain signified that not all the peaceful pursuits of a small people at war with a great nation had been abandoned. the coal-mines at belfast, with their towering stacks and clouds of smoke, gave the first evidence of the country's wondrous underground wealth, and then farther on in the journey came the small city of middleburg with its slate-coloured corrugated iron roofs in marked contrast to the green veld grass surrounding it. there appeared armed and bandoliered boers, prepared to join their countrymen in the field, with wounded friends and sad-faced women to bid farewell to them. while the train lay waiting at the station small commandos of burghers came dashing through the dusty streets, bustled their horses into trucks at the rear end of the passenger train, and in a few moments they were mingling with the foreign volunteers in the coaches. grey-haired boers gravely bade adieu to their wives and children, lovers embraced their weeping sweethearts, and the train moved on toward pretoria and the battlefields where these men were to risk their lives for the life of their country. historic ground, where briton and boer had fought before, came in view. bronkhorst spruit, where a british commander led more than one hundred of his men to death in , lay to the left of the road in a little wooded ravine. farther on toward pretoria appeared rocky kopjes, where afterwards the boers, retreating from the capital city, gathered their disheartened forces, and resisted the advance of the enemy. eerste fabriken was a hamlet hardly large enough to make an impression upon the memory, but it marked a battlefield where the burghers fought desperately. children were then gathering peaches from the trees, whose roots drank the blood of heroes months afterwards. several miles farther on were the hills on the outskirts of pretoria, where, in the war of , the boer laagers sent forth men to encompass the city and to prevent the british besieged in it from escaping. it was ground hallowed in boer history since the early voortrekkers crossed the ridges of the magaliesberg and sought protection from the savage hordes of moselekatse in the fertile valley of the aapjes river. pretoria in war-time was most peaceful. in the days before the commencement of hostilities it was a city of peace as contrasted with the metropolis, johannesburg, and its warring citizens, but when cannon were roaring on the frontier, pretoria itself seemed to escape even the echoes. after the first commandos had departed the city streets were deserted, and only women and children gathered at the bulletin boards to learn the fate of the burgher armies. the stoeps of houses and cottages were deserted of the bearded yeomanry, and the halls of the government buildings resounded only with the tread of those who were not old or strong enough to bear arms. the long ox-waggons which in former times were so common in the streets were not so frequently to be seen, but whenever one of them rolled toward the market square, it was a boer woman who cracked the raw-hide whip over the heads of the oxen. pretoria was the same quaint city as of old, but it lacked the men who were its most distinguishing feature. the black-garbed volksraad members, the officials, and the old retired farmers, who were wont to discuss politics on the stoeps of the capitol and the transvaal hotel were absent. inquiries concerning them could be addressed only to women and children, and the replies invariably were: "they are on commando," or, "they were killed in battle." the scenes of activity in the city were few in number, and they were chiefly in connection with the arrival of foreign volunteers and the transit of burgher commandos on the way to the field. the grand hotel and the transvaal hotel, the latter of which was conducted by the government for the temporary entertainment of the volunteers, were constantly filled with throngs of foreigners, comprising soldiers of fortune, red cross delegations, visitors, correspondents, and contractors, and almost every language except that of the boers could be heard in the corridors. occasionally a boer burgher on leave of absence from the front appeared at the hotels for a respite from army rations, or to attend the funeral of a comrade in arms, but the foreigners were always predominant. across the street, in the war department, there were busy scenes when the volunteers applied for their equipments, and frequently there were stormy actions when the european tastes of the men were offended by the equipment offered by the department officials. men who desired swords and artistic paraphernalia for themselves and their horses felt slighted when the scant but serviceable equipment of a boer burgher was offered to them, but sulking could not remedy the matter, and usually they were content to accept whatever was given to them. former officers in european armies, noblemen and even professional men were constantly arriving in the city, and all seemed to be of the same opinion that commissions in the boer army could be had for the asking. some of these had their minds disabused with good grace, and went to the field as common burghers; others sulked for several weeks, but finally joined a commando, and a few returned to their homes without having heard the report of a gun. for those who chose to remain behind and enjoy the peacefulness of pretoria, there was always enough of novelty and excitement among the foreigners to compensate partly for missing the events in the field. the army contractors make their presence felt in all countries which are engaged in war, and pretoria was filled with them. they were in the railway trains running to and from lorenzo marques; in the hotel corridors, in all the government departments, and everywhere in the city. a few of the naturalised boers, who were most denunciatory of the british before the war and urged their fellow-countrymen to resort to arms, succeeded in evading the call to the field and were most energetic in supplying bread and supplies to the government. nor was their patriotism dimmed by many reverses of the army, and they selfishly demanded that the war should be continued indefinitely. europeans and americans who partook of the protection of the government in times of peace, were transformed by war into grasping, insinuating contractors who revelled in the country's misfortune. englishmen, unworthy of the name, enriched themselves by furnishing sinews of war to their country's enemy, and in order to secure greater wealth sought to prolong the war by cheering disheartened boers and expressing faith in their final success. the chambers of the government building were filled with men who had horses, waggons, flour, forage and clothing to offer at exorbitant prices, and in thousands of instances the embarrassed government was obliged to pay whatever sums were demanded. hand-in-hand with the contractors were the speculators who were taking advantage of the absence of the leading officials to secure valuable concessions, mining claims, and even gold mines. before the war, when hordes of speculators and concession-seekers thronged the city, the scene was pathetic enough, but when all shrewd raad members were at the front and unable to guard their country's interests the picture was dark and pitiful. pretoria seemed to have but one mood during the war. it was never deeply despondent nor gay. there was a sort of funereal atmosphere throughout the city, whether its residents were rejoicing over a spion kop or suffering from the dejection of a paardeberg. it was the same grim throng of old men, women, and children who watched the processions of prisoners of war and attended the funerals at the quaint little dutch church in the centre of the city. the finest victories of the army never changed the appearance of the city nor the mood of its inhabitants. there were no parades nor shouting when a victory was announced, and there was the same stoical indifference when the news of a bitter defeat was received. a victory was celebrated in the dutch church by the singing of psalms, and a defeat by the offering of prayers for the success of the army. the thousands of british subjects who were allowed to remain in the transvaal, being of a less phlegmatic race, were not so calm when a victory of their nation's army was announced, and when the news of cronje's surrender reached them they celebrated the event with almost as much gusto as if they had not been in the enemy's country. a fancy dress ball was held in johannesburg in honour of the event, and a champagne dinner was given within a few yards of the government buildings in pretoria, but a few days later all the celebrants were transported across the border by order of the government. one of the pathetic features of pretoria was the boers' expression of faith in foreign mediation or intervention. at the outset of hostilities it seemed unreasonable that any european nation or america would risk a war with great britain for the purpose of assisting the boers, yet there was hardly one burgher who did not cling steadfastly to the opinion that the war would be ended in such a manner. the idea had evidently been rooted in their mind that russia would take advantage of great britain's entanglement in south africa to occupy herat and northern india, and when a newspaper item to that effect appeared it was gravely presumed to indicate the beginning of the end. some over-zealous irishmen assured the boers that, in the event of a south african war, their fellow-countrymen in the united states would invade canada and involve great britain in an imbroglio over the atlantic in order to save british america. for a few weeks the chimera buoyed up the boers, but when nothing more than an occasional newspaper rumour was heard concerning it the rising in ashanti was then looked upon as being the hoped-for boon. the departure of the three delegates to europe and america was an encouraging sign to them, and it was firmly believed that they would be able to induce france, russia, or america to offer mediation or intervention. the two boer newspapers, the pretoria _volksstem_ and the johannesburg _standard and diggers' news_, dwelt at length upon every favourable token of foreign assistance, however trifling, and attempted to strengthen hopes which at hardly any time seemed capable of realisation. it was not until after the war had been in progress for more than six months that the boers saw the futility of placing faith in foreign aid, and afterwards they fought like stronger men. the consuls who represented the foreign governments at pretoria, and through whom the boers made representations for peace, were an exceptionally able body of men, and their duties were as varied as they were arduous. the french and german consuls were busied with the care of the vast mining interests of their countrymen, besides the partial guardianship of the hundreds of french and german volunteers in the boer army. they were called upon to entertain noblemen as well as bankrupts; to bandage wounds and to bury the dead; to find lost relatives and to care for widows and orphans. in times of peace the duties of a consul in pretoria were not light, but during hostilities they were tenfold heavier. to the american consul, adelbert s. hay, and his associate, john g. coolidge, fell more work than to all the others combined. besides caring for the american interests in the country, consul hay was charged with the guardianship of the six thousand british prisoners of war in the city as well as with the care of the financial interests of british citizens. every one of the thousands of letters to and from the prisoners was examined in the american consulate so that they might carry with them no breach of neutrality; almost twenty thousand pounds, as well as tons of luxuries, were distributed by him to the prisoners; while the letters and cablegrams concerning the health and whereabouts of soldiers which reached him every week were far in excess of the number of communications which arrived at the consulate in a year of peaceful times. consul hay was in good favour with the boer government notwithstanding his earnest efforts to perform his duties with regard to the british prisoners and interests, and of the many consuls who have represented the united states in south africa none performed his duties more intelligently or with more credit to his country. one of the most interesting and important events in pretoria before the british occupation of the city was the meeting of the volksraads on may th. it was a gathering of the warriors who survived the war which they themselves had brought about seven months before, and, although the enemy to whom they had thrown down the gauntlet was at their gates, they were as resolute and determined as on that october day when they voted to pit the boer farmer against the british lion. the seats of many of those who took part in that memorable meeting were filled with palms and evergreens to mark the patriots' deaths, but the vierkleur and the cause remained to spur the living. generals, commandants, and burghers, no longer in the grimy costumes of the battlefield, but in the black garb of the legislator, filled the circles of chairs; bandoliered burghers, consuls and military attachés in spectacular uniform, business men, and women with tear-stained cheeks filled the auditorium; while on the official benches were the heads of departments and the executive council, state secretary reitz and general schalk burger. the chairman of the raad, general lucas meyer, fresh from the battlefield, attracted the attention of the throng by announcing the arrival of the president. spectators, raad members, officials, all rose to their feet, and paul kruger, the lion of rustenberg, the afrikander captain, entered the chamber and occupied a seat of honour. [illustration: general lucas j. meyer] grave affairs occupied the attention of the country and there were many pressing matters to be adjusted, was the burden of the meeting, but the most important work was the defence of the country, and all the members were as a unit that their proper places were to be found with the burghers in the field. there was no talk of ending the war, or of surrender; the president leading in the proposition to continue hostilities until a conclusion successful to the boer cause was attained. "shall we lose courage?" he demanded. "never! never!! never!!!" and then added reverently: "may the people and the officers, animated and inspired by a higher power, realising their duty, not only to those brave ones who have already sacrificed their lives for their fatherland, but also to posterity that expects a free country, continue and persevere in this war to the end." with these words of their aged chieftain engraved on their hearts to strengthen their resolution the members of the volksraads doffed the garb of legislators and returned to their commandos to inspire them with new zeal and determination. after that memorable meeting of the volksraads pretoria again assumed the appearance of a city of peace, but the rapid approach of the forces of the enemy soon transformed it into a scene of desperation and panic. men with drawn faces dashed through the city to assist their hard-pressed countrymen in the field; tearful women with children on their arms filled the churches with their moans and prayers; deserters fleeing homeward exaggerated fresh disasters and increased the tension of the populace--tears and terror prevailed almost everywhere. railway stations were filled with throngs intent on escaping from the coming disaster, commandos of breathless and blood-stained burghers entered the city, and soon the voice of the conquerors' cannon reverberated among the hills and valleys of the capital. above the noise and din of the threatened city rose the calm assurance of paul kruger: "have good cheer, god will be with our people in the end." chapter ii from farm to battlefield in the olden days, before men with strange languages and customs entered their country and disturbed the serenity of their life, the boers were accustomed to make annual trips to the north in search of game, and to exterminate the lions which periodically attacked their flocks and herds. it was customary for relatives to form parties, and these trekked with their long ox-waggons far into the northern transvaal, and oftentimes into the wilderness beyond the zambesi. women and children accompanied the expeditions and remained behind in the ox-waggons while the men rode away into the bush to search for buck, giraffe, and lion. hardy men and women these were who braved the dangers of wild beasts and the terrors of the fever country, yet these treks to the north were as certain annual functions as the nachtmaals in the churches. men who went into the wild bush to hunt for the lions, which had been their only unconquerable enemy for years, learned to know no fear, and with their wives and children formed as hardy a race as virgin soil ever produced. with these pioneers it was not a matter of great pride to have shot a lion, but it was considered a disgrace to have missed one. to husband their sparse supplies of ammunition was their chief object, and to waste a shot by missing the target was to become the subject of good-natured derision and ridicule. fathers, sons, and grandsons entered the bush together, and when there was a lion or other wild beast to be stalked the amateur hunter was initiated into the mysteries of backwoodsmanship by his experienced elders. consequently the boers became a nation of proficient lion-hunters, and efficiently ridded their country of the pest which continually threatened their safety, the safety of their families and that of their possessions of live-stock. in later years, when the foreigner who bought his farms and searched for the wealth hidden on them became so numerous that the boer appeared to be an unwelcome guest in his own house, the old-time lion-hunter had foundation for believing that a new enemy had suddenly arisen. the boer attempted to placate the new enemy by means which failed. afterward a bold but unsuccessful inroad was made into the country for the purpose of relieving him of the necessity of ruling it. thereupon the old-time lion-fighting spirit arose within the boer, and he began to prepare for future hunting expeditions. he stocked his arsenals with the best guns and ammunition the world produced, and he secured instructors to teach him the most modern and approved methods of fighting the new-style lion. he erected forts and stockades in which he might take refuge in the event that the lions should prove too strong and numerous, and he made laws and regulations so that there might be no delay when the proper moment arrived for attacking the enemy. while these matters were being perfected further efforts were made to conciliate the enemy, but they proved futile, and it became evident that the farmer and the lion of were as implacable enemies as the farmer and lion of . the lion of believed his cause to be as just as did the lion of half a century before, while the farmer felt that the lion, having been created by nature, had a just claim upon nature and her works for support, but desired that sustenance should be sought from other parts of nature's stores. he insisted, moreover, if the lion wished to remain on the plantation that he should not question the farmer's ownership nor assume that the lion was an animal of a higher and finer grade than the farmer. a meeting between the representatives of the lions and the farmers led to no better understanding; in fact when, several days afterward, all the farmers gathered at the historic paardekraal monument, they were unanimously of the opinion that the lion should be driven out of the country, or at least subdued to such an extent that peace might come and remain. not since the days of , when, at the same spot, each boer, holding a stone above his head, vowed to shed his last drop of blood in defence of his country, was the community of farmers so indignant and excited. the aged president himself, fresh from the conference with the lions, urged his countrymen to prevent a conflict but to fight valiantly for their independence and rights if the necessity arose. piet joubert, who bore marks of a former conflict with the enemy, wept as he narrated the efforts which had been made to pacify the lions, and finally expressed the belief that every farmer in the country would yield his life's blood rather than surrender the rights for which their fathers had bled and died. when other leaders had spoken, the picturesque custom of renewing the oath of fealty to the country's flag was observed, as it had been every fifth year since the days of majuba hill. ten thousand farmers uncovered their heads, raised their eyes toward the sky and repeated the boer oath:-- "in the presence of god almighty, who searcheth the hearts of men, from our homes in the transvaal we have journeyed to meet again, free burghers, we ask his mercy and trust in his grace and bind ourselves and our children in a solemn oath to be faithful to one another and to stand by one another in repelling our enemy with our last drop of life-blood. so truly help us, god almighty." ten thousand voices then joined in singing the national anthem and a psalm, and the memorable meeting at this fount of patriotism was closed with a prayer and a benediction. after this meeting it was uncertain for some months which should attack first; both were preparing as rapidly as possible for the conflict, and the advantage seemed to lie with the one who would strike first. the leaders of the lions seemed to have forgotten that they had lion-hunters as their opponents, and the farmers neglected to take into account the fact that the lion tribe was exceedingly numerous and spread over the whole earth. when the leading farmers met in conclave at pretoria and heard the demands of the lions they laughed at them, sent an ultimatum in reply, and started for the frontier to join those of their countrymen who had gone there days before to watch that no body of lions should make another surreptitious attack upon their country. another community of farmers living to the south, who had also been harassed by the lions for many years and felt that their future safety lay in the subjugation of the lion tribe, joined their neighbours in arms and went forth with them to the greatest lion-hunt that south africa has ever had. the enemy and all other men called it war, but to the boers it was merely a hunt for lions such as they had engaged in oftentimes before. the old boer farmer hardly needed the proclamation from pretoria to tell him that there was to be a lion-hunt, and that he should prepare for it immediately. he had known that the hunt was inevitable long before october , , and he had made preparations for it months and even years before. when the official notification from the commandant-general reached him through the field-cornet of the district in which he lived, he was prepared in a few minutes to start for the frontier where the british lions were to be found. the new mauser rifle, which the government had given him a year or two before, was freshly oiled and its working order inspected. the bandolier, filled with bright new cartridges, was swung over his shoulder, and then, after putting a testament into his coat pocket, he was ready to proceed. he despised a uniform of any kind as smacking of anti-republican ideas and likely to attract the attention of the enemy. the same corduroy or mole-skin trousers, dark coat, wide-brimmed hat, and home-made shoes which he was accustomed to wear in every-day life on the farm were good enough for a hunting expedition, and he needed and yearned for nothing better. a uniform would have caused him to feel uneasy and out of place, and when lions were the game he wanted to be thoroughly comfortable so that his arm and aim might be steady. his vrouw, who was filling a linen sack with bread, biltong, and coffee to be consumed on his journey to the hunting grounds, may have taken the opportunity while he was cleaning his rifle to sew a rosette of the vierkleur of the republic on his hat, or, remembering the custom observed in the old-time wars against the natives, may have found the fluffy brown tail of a meerkatz and fixed it on the upturned brim of his grimy hat. when these few preparations were concluded the kafir servant brought his master's horse and fixed to the front of the saddle a small roll containing a blanket and a mackintosh. to another part of the saddle he strapped a small black kettle to be used for the preparation of the lion-hunter's only luxury, coffee, and then the list of impedimenta was complete. the horseman who brought the summons to go to the frontier had hardly reached the neighbouring farmhouse when the boer lion-hunter, uniformed, outfitted, and armed, was on his horse's back and ready for any duty at any place. with a rifle, bandolier, and a horse the boer felt as if he were among kindred spirits, and nothing more was necessary to complete his temporal happiness. the horse is a part of the boer hunter, and he might as well have gone to the frontier without a rifle as to go in the capacity of a foot soldier. the boer is the modern centaur, and therein is found an explanation for part of his success in hunting. when once the boer left his home he became an army unto himself. he needed no one to care for himself and his horse, nor were the leaders of the army obliged to issue myriads of orders for his guidance. he had learned long before that he should meet the other hunters of his ward at a certain spot in case there was a call to arms, and thither he went as rapidly as his pony could carry him. when he arrived at the meeting-place he found all his neighbours and friends gathered in groups and discussing the situation. certain ones of them had brought with them big white-tented ox-waggons for conveying ammunition, commissariat stores, and such extra luggage as some might wish to carry; and these were sent ahead as soon as the field-cornet, the military leader of the ward, learned that all his men had arrived from their homes. the individual hunters then formed what was called a commando, whether it consisted of fifteen or fifty men, and proceeded in a body to a second pre-arranged meeting-place, where all the ward-commandos of a certain district were asked to congregate. when all these commandos had arrived in one locality, they fell under the authority of the commandant who had been elected to that post by the burghers at the preceding election. this official had received his orders directly from the commandant-general, and but little time was consumed in disseminating them to the burghers through the various field-cornets. after all the ward-commandos had arrived, the district-commando was set in motion toward that part of the frontier where its services were required; and a most unwarlike spectacle it presented as it rolled along over the muddy, slippery veld. in the van were the huge, lumbering waggons with hordes of hullabalooing natives cracking their long raw-hide whips and urging the sleek, long-horned oxen forward through the mud. following the waggon-train came the cavalcade of armed lion-hunters, grim and determined-looking enough from a distance, but most peaceful and inoffensive when once they understood the stranger's motives. no order or discipline was visible in the commando on the march, and if the rifles and bandoliers had not appeared so prominently it might readily have been mistaken for a party of nachtmaal celebrants on the way to pretoria. now and then some youths emerged from the crowd and indulged in an impromptu horse-race, only to return and receive a chiding from their elders for wasting their horses' strength unnecessarily. occasionally the keen eyes of a rider spied a buck in the distance, and then several of the lion-hunters sped obliquely off the track and replenished the commando larder with much smaller game than was the object of their expedition. if the commando came from a district far from the frontier, it proceeded to the railway station nearest to the central meeting-place, and then embarked for the front. no extraordinary preparations were necessary for the embarking of a large commando, nor was much time lost before the hunters were speeding towards their destination. every man placed his own horse in a cattle-car, his saddle, bridle, and haversack in the passenger-coach, and then assisted in hoisting the cumbersome ox-waggons on flat-top trucks. there were no specially deputised men to entrain the horses, others to load the waggons, and still others to be subtracted from the fighting strength of the nation by attending to such detail duties as require the services of hundreds of men in other armies. after the burghers were entrained and the long commando train was set in motion the most fatiguing part of the campaign was before them. to ride on a south african railway is a disagreeable duty in times of peace, but in war-times, when trains were long and overcrowded, and the rate of progress never higher than fifteen miles an hour, then all other campaigning duties were pleasurable enjoyments. the majority of burghers, unaccustomed to journeying in railway trains, relished the innovation and managed to make merry even though six of them, together with all their saddles and personal luggage, were crowded into one compartment. the singing of hymns occupied much of their time on the journey, and when they tired of this they played practical jokes upon one another and amused themselves by leaning out of the windows and jeering at the men who were guarding the railway bridges and culverts. at the stations they grasped their coffee-pots and rushed to the locomotive to secure hot water with which to prepare their beverage. it seldom happened that any boer going to the front carried any liquor with him and, although the delays and vexations of the journey were sufficiently irritating to serve as an excuse, drunkenness practically never occurred. genuine good-fellowship prevailed among them, and no quarrelling was to be observed. it seemed as if every one of them was striving to live the ideal life portrayed in the testament which they read assiduously scores of times every day. whether a train was delayed an hour at a siding or whether it stopped so suddenly that all were thrown from their seats, there was no profane language, but usually jesting and joking instead. little discomforts which would cause an ordinary american or european soldier to use volumes of profanity were passed by without notice or comment by these psalm-singing boers, and inconveniences of greater moment, like the disarrangement of the commissariat along the route, caused only slight remonstrances from them. an angry man was as rarely seen as one who cursed, and more rare than either was an intoxicated one. few of the men were given to boasting of the valour they would display in warfare or of their abilities in marksmanship. they had no battle-cry of revenge like "remember the _maine!_" or "avenge majuba!" except it was the motto: "for god, country, and independence!" which many bore on the bands of their hats and on the stocks of their rifles. very occasionally one boasted of the superiority of the boer, and still more rarely would one be heard to set three months as the limit required to conquer the british army. the name of jameson, the raider, was frequently heard, but always in a manner which might have led one unacquainted with recent transvaal history to believe that he was a patron-saint of the republic. it was not a cry of "remember jameson" for the wrongs he committed but rather a plea to honour him for having placed the republic on its guard against the dangers which they believed threatened it from beyond its borders. it was frequently suggested, when his name was mentioned, that after the war a monument should be erected to him because he had given them warning and that they had profited by the warning to the extent that they had armed themselves thoroughly. seldom was any boasting concerning the number of the enemy that would fall to boer bullets; instead there was a tone of sorrow when they spoke of the soldiers of the queen who would die on the field of battle while fighting for a cause concerning the justice or injustice of which the british soldier could not speak. after the commando-train reached its destination the burghers again took charge of their own horses and conveyances, and in even less time than it required to place them on the train they were unloaded and ready to proceed to the point where the generals needed their assistance. the boer was always considerate of his horse, and it became a custom to delay for several hours after leaving the train, in order that the animals might feed and recover from the fatigues of the journey before starting out on a trek over the veld. after the horses had been given an opportunity to rest, the order to "upsaddle" came from the commandant, and then the procession, with the ox-waggons in the van, was again formed. the regular army order was then established, scouts were sent ahead to determine the location of the enemy, and the officers for the first time appeared to lead their men in concerted action against the opposing forces. to call the boer force an army was to add unwarranted elasticity to the word, for it had but one quality in common with such armed forces as americans or europeans are accustomed to call by that name. the boer army fought with guns and gunpowder, but it had no discipline, no drills, no forms, no standards, and not even a roll-call. it was an enlarged edition of the hunting parties which a quarter-century ago went into the zoutpansberg in search of game--it was a massive aggregation of lion-hunters. chapter iii the composition of the boer army a visitor in one of the laagers in natal once spoke of a boer burgher as a "soldier." a boer from the wakkerstroom district interrupted his speech and said there were no boer soldiers. "if you want us to understand concerning whom you are talking," he continued, "you must call us burghers or farmers. only the english have soldiers." it was so with all the boers; none understood the term soldier as applying to anybody except their enemy, while many considered it an insult to be called a soldier, as it implied, to a certain extent, that they were fighting for hire. in times of peace the citizen of the boer republics was called a burgher, and when he took up arms and went to war he received no special title to distinguish him from the man who remained at home. "my burghers," paul kruger was wont to call them before the war, and when they came forth from battle they were content when he said, "my burghers are doing well." the boers were proud of their citizenship, and when their country was in danger they went forth as private citizens and not as bold warriors to protect it. there was a law in the two republics which made it incumbent upon all burghers between the ages of sixteen and sixty to join a commando and to go to war when it was necessary. there was no law, however, which prevented a man, of whatever youthfulness or age, to assist in the defence of his country, and in consequence the boer commandos contained almost the entire male population between the ages of thirteen and eighty years. in peaceful times the boer farmer rarely travelled away from his home unless he was accompanied by his family, and he would have felt the pangs of homesickness if he had not been continually surrounded by his wife and children. when the war began it was not an easy matter for the burgher to leave his home for an indefinite period, and in order that he might not be lonely he took with him all his sons who were strong enough to carry rifles. the boer youth develops into manhood early in life in the mild south african climate, and the boy of twelve and thirteen years is the equal in physical development of the american or european youth of sixteen or seventeen. he was accustomed to live on the open veld and hunting with his elders, and, when he saw that all his former companions were going to war, he begged for permission to accompany the commando. the boer boy of twelve does not wear knickerbocker trousers as the youth of like age in many other countries, but he is clothed exactly like his father, and, being almost as tall, his youthful appearance is not so noticeable when he is among a large number of his countrymen. scores of boys not more than twelve years were in the laagers in natal, and hundreds of less age than the minimum prescribed by the military law were in every commando in the country. when ladysmith was still besieged one youth of eleven years was conspicuous in the standerton laager. he seemed to be a mere child, yet he had the patriotism of ten men. he followed his father everywhere, whether into battle or to the spring for water. [illustration: battlefield of colenso, december , general louis botha's commando boksburg commando colenso krugersdorp commando wakkerstrom commando ermelo commando swaziland police ermelo commando british camp, chievely tugela river] "when my father is injured or killed, i will take his rifle," was his excuse for being away from home. when general de wet captured seven cannon from the enemy at the battle of sannaspost two of the volunteers to operate them were boys aged respectively fourteen and fifteen years. pieter j. henning, of the potchefstroom commando, who was injured in the battle of scholtznek on december th, was less than fifteen years old, yet his valour in battle was as conspicuous as that of any of the burghers who took part in the engagement. teunis h.c. mulder, of the pretoria commando, celebrated his sixteenth birthday only a few days before he was twice wounded at ladysmith on november th, and willem françois joubert, a relative of the commandant-general, was only fifteen years old when he was wounded at ladysmith on october th. at the battle of koedoesrand, fifteen-year-old pieter de jager, of the bethlehem commando, was seriously injured by a shell while he was conveying his injured father from the field. with the army of general cronje captured at paardeberg were no less than a hundred burghers who had not reached the sixteenth year, and among those who escaped from the laager in the river-bed were two bloemfontein boys named roux, aged twelve and fourteen years. at colenso a wakkerstroom youth of twelve years captured three english scouts and compelled them to march ahead of him to the commandant's tent. during one of the lulls in the fighting at magersfontein a burgher of fifteen years crept up to within twenty yards of three british soldiers and shouted "hands up!" thinking that there were other boers in the vicinity the men dropped their guns and became prisoners of the boy, who took them to general de la rey's tent. when the general asked the boy how he secured the prisoners the lad replied, nonchalantly, "oh, i surrounded them." these youths who accompanied the commando were known as the "penkop regiment"--a regiment composed of school children--and in their connection an amusing story has been current in the boer country ever since the war of , when large numbers of children less than fifteen years old went with their fathers to battle. the story is that after the fight at majuba hill, while the peace negotiations were in progress, sir evelyn wood, the commander of the british forces, asked general joubert to see the famous penkop regiment. the boer general gave an order that the regiment should be drawn up in a line before his tent, and when this had been done general joubert led general wood into the open and introduced him to the corps. sir evelyn was sceptical for some time, and imagined that general joubert was joking, but when it was explained to him that the youths really were the much-vaunted penkop regiment he advised them to return to their school-books. when a man has reached the age of sixty it may be assumed that he has outlived his usefulness as a soldier; but not so with the boer. there was not one man, but hundreds, who had passed the biblical threescore years and ten but were fighting valiantly in defence of their country. grey-haired men who, in another country, might be expected to be found at their homes reading the accounts of their grandsons' deeds in the war, went out on scouting duty and scaled hills with almost as much alacrity as the burghers only half their age. men who could boast of being grandfathers were innumerable, and in almost any laager there could be seen father, sons, and grandsons, all fighting with equal vigour and enthusiasm. paul kruger is seventy-five years old, but there were many of his burghers several years older than he who went to the frontier with their commandos and remained there for several months at a time. a great-grandfather serving in the capacity of a private soldier, may appear like a mythical tale, but there were several such. old jan van der westhuizen, of the middleberg laager, was active and enthusiastic at eighty-two years, and felt more than proud of four great-grand-children. piet kruger, a relative of the president, and four years his senior, was an active participant in every battle in which the rustenburg commando was engaged while it was in natal, and he never once referred to the fact that he fought in the war and in the attack upon jameson's men. four of kruger's sons shared the same tent and fare with him, and ten of his grandsons were burghers in different commandos. jan c. ven [transcriber's note: sic] tander, of boshof, exceeded the maximum of the military age by eight years, but he was early in the field, and was seriously wounded at the battle of scholtznek on december th. general joubert himself was almost seventy years old but as far as physical activity was concerned there were a score of burghers in his commando, each from five to ten years older, who exhibited more energy in one battle than he did during the entire natal campaign. the hundreds of bridges and culverts along the railway lines in the transvaal, the orange free state, and upper natal were guarded day and night by boers more than sixty years old, who had volunteered to do the work in order that younger men might be sent to localities where their services might be more necessary. other old boers and cripples attended to the commissariat arrangements along the railways, conducted commissariat waggons, gathered forage for the horses at the front, and arranged the thousands of details which are necessary to the well-being and comfort of every army, however simple its organisation. among the boers were many burghers who had assisted great britain in her former wars in south africa--men who had fought under the british flag, but were now fighting against it. colonel ignace ferreira, a member of one of the oldest boer families, fought under lord wolseley in the zulu war, and had the order of the commander of the bath conferred upon him by the queen. colonel ferreira was at the head of a commando at mafeking. paul dietzch, the military secretary of general meyer, fought under the british flag in the gaika and several other native wars. it was not only the extremely old and the extremely young who went to war; it was a transfer of the entire population of the two republics to the frontiers, and no condition or position was sufficient excuse to remain behind. the professional man of pretoria and johannesburg was in a laager which was adjacent to a laager of farthest-back veld-farmers. lawyers and physicians, photographers and grocers, speculators and sextons, judges and schoolmasters, schoolboys and barkeepers--all who were burghers locked their desks and offices and journeyed to the front. even clergymen closed their houses of worship in the towns and remained among the commandos to pray and preach for those who did the fighting. the members of the volksraads, who brought on the war by their ultimatum, were among the first in the field, and foremost in attacking the soldiers of their enemy. students in european universities, who hastened home when war-clouds were gathering, went shoulder to shoulder into battle with the backwoodsman, the boer takhaar. there was no pride among them; no class distinction which prevented a farmer from speaking to a millionaire. a graduate of cambridge had as his boon companion for five months a farmer who thought the earth a square, and imagined the united states to be a political division of australia. [illustration: boers watching the fight at dundee] the boer who was bred in a city or town good-naturedly referred to his country cousin as a "takhaar"--a man with grizzly beard and unkempt hair. it was a good descriptive term, and the takhaar was not offended when it was applied to him. the takhaar was the modern type of the old voortrekker boer who, almost a hundred years ago, trekked north from cape colony, and after overcoming thousands of difficulties settled in the present boer country. he was a religious, big-hearted countryman of the kind who would suspect a stranger until he proved himself worthy of trust. after that period was passed the takhaar would walk the veld in order that you might ride his horse. if he could not speak your language he would repeat a dozen times such words as he knew, meanwhile offering to you coffee, mutton, bread, and all the best that his laager larder afforded. he offered to exchange a pipe-load of tobacco with you, and when that occurred you could take it for granted that he was your friend for life. the takhaar was the man who went to the frontiers on his own responsibility weeks before the ultimatum was sent, and watched day and night lest the enemy might trample a rod beyond the bounds. he was the man who stopped jameson, who climbed majuba, and who fought the natives. the takhaar was the boer before gold brought restlessness into the country, and he was proud of his title. the fighting ability of the takhaar is best illustrated by repeating an incident which occurred after the battle of dundee when a large number of hussars were captured. one of the hussar officers asked for the name of the regiment he had been fighting against. a fun-loving boer replied that the boers had no regiments; that their men were divided into three brigades--the afrikanders, the boers, and the takhaars--a distinction which carried with it but a slight difference. "the afrikander brigade," the boer explained, "is fighting now. they fight like demons. when they are killed, then the boers take the field. the boers fight about twice as well and hard as the afrikanders. as soon as all the boers are killed, then come the takhaars, and they would rather fight than eat." the officer remained silent for a moment, then sighed and said, "well, if that is correct, then our job is bigger than i thought it was." the ideal boer is a man with a bearded face and a flowing moustache, and in order to appear idyllic almost every boer burgher, who was not thus favoured before war was began, engaged in the peaceful process of growing a beard. young men who, in times of peace, detested hirsute adornments of the face allowed their beards and moustaches to grow, and after a month or two it was almost impossible to find one burgher who was without a growth of hair on his face. the wearing of a beard was almost equal to a badge of boer citizenship, and for the time being every boer was a takhaar in appearance if not in fact. the adoption of beards was not so much fancy as it was a matter of discretion. the boer was aware of the fact that few of the enemy wore beards, and so it was thought quite ingenious for all burghers to wear facial adornments of that kind in order that friend and foe might be distinguished more readily at a distance. notwithstanding their ability to fight when it is necessary, it is doubtful whether twenty per cent of the boer burghers in the commandos would be accepted for service in any continental or american army. the rigid physical examinations of many of the armies would debar thousands from becoming regular soldiers. there were men in the boer forces who had only one arm, some with only one leg, others with only one eye; some were almost totally blind, while others would have felt happy if they could have heard the reports of their rifles. men who were suffering from various kinds of illnesses, and who should have been in a physician's care, were to be seen in every laager. men who wore spectacles were numerous, while those who suffered from diseases which debar a man from a regular army were without number. the high percentage of men unfit for military duty was not due to the boer's unhealthfulness, for he is as healthy as farmers are in other parts of the earth. take the entire male population of any district in europe and america and compare the individuals with the standard required by army rules, and the result will not differ greatly from the result of the boer examination. if all the youths and old men, the sick and maimed, could have been eliminated from the boer forces, eighty per cent, would probably have been found to be a low estimate of the number thus subtracted from the total force. it would have been heartrending to many a continental or american general to see the unmilitary appearance of the boer burgher, and in what manner an army of children, great-grandfathers, invalids, and blind men, with a handful of good men to leaven it, could be of any service whatever would have been quite beyond his conception. it was such a mixed force that a russian officer, who at the outset of the war entered the transvaal to fight, became disgusted with its unmilitary appearance and returned to his own country. the accoutrement of the boer burgher was none the less incongruous than the physical appearance of the majority of them, although no expensive uniform and trappings could have been of more practical value. the men of the pretoria and johannesburg commandos had the unique honor of going to the war in uniforms specially made for the purpose, but there was no regulation or law which compelled them to wear certain kinds of clothing. when these commandos went to the frontier several days before the actual warfare had begun they were clothed in khaki-coloured cloth of almost the same description as that worn by the soldiers whom they intended to fight. these two commandos were composed of town-folk who had absorbed many of the customs and habits of the foreigners who were in the country, and they felt that it would be more warlike if they should wear uniforms made specially for camp and field. the old boers of the towns and the takhaars looked askance at the youth of pretoria and johannesburg in their uniforms, and shook their heads at the innovation as smacking too much of an anti-republican spirit. like cincinnatus, the majority of the old boers went directly from their farms to the battlefields, and they wore the same clothing in the laagers as they used when shearing their sheep or herding their cattle. when they started for the frontier the boer farmers arranged matters so that they might be comfortable while the campaign continued. many, it is true, dashed away from home at the first call to arms and carried with them, besides a rifle and bandolier, nothing but a mackintosh, blanket, and haversack of food. the majority of them, however, were solicitous of their future comfort and loaded themselves down with all kinds of luggage. some went to the frontier with the big, four-wheeled ox-waggons and in these they conveyed cooking utensils, trunks, boxes with food and flour, mattresses, and even stoves. the rustenburg farmers were specially solicitous about their comfort, and those patriotic old takhaars practically moved their families and household furniture to the camps. some of the burghers took two or three horses each in order that there might be no delay or annoyance in case of misfortune by death or accident, and frequently a burgher could be seen who had one horse for himself, another for his camp utensils and extra clothing, and a third and fourth for native servants who cooked his meals and watched the horses while they grazed. without his horse the boer would be of little account as a fighting man, and those magnificent little ponies deserve almost as much credit for such success as attended the campaign as their riders. if some south african does not frame a eulogy of the little beasts it will not be because they do not deserve it. the horse was half the centaur and quite the life of him. small and wiry, he was able to jog along fifty and sixty miles a day for several days in succession, and when the occasion demanded it, he was able to attain a rate of speed that equalled that of the ordinary south african railway train which, however, makes no claims to lightning-like velocity. he bore all kinds of weather, was not liable to sickness except in one season of the year, and he was able to work two and even three days without more than a blade of grass. he was able to thrive on the grass of the veld, and when winter killed that product he needed but a few bundles of forage a day to keep him in good condition. he climbed rocky mountain-sides as readily as a buck, and never wandered from a path by darkest night. he drank and apparently relished the murky water of mud-pools and needed but little attention with the currycomb and brush. he was trained to obey the slightest turn of the reins, and a slight whistle brought him to a full stop. when his master left him and went forward into battle the boer pony remained in the exact position where he was placed, and when perchance a shell or bullet ended his existence, then the boer paid a tribute to the value of his dead servant by refusing to continue the fight and by beating a hasty retreat. in the early part of the campaign in natal the laagers were filled with ox-waggons, and, in the absence of tents which were sadly wanted during that season of heavy rains, they stood in great stead to the burghers. the rear half of the waggons were tented with an arched roof, as all the trek-waggons are, and under these shelters the burghers lived. many of the burghers who left their ox-waggons at home took small, light, four-wheeled carriages, locally called spiders, or the huge two-wheelers or cape-carts so serviceable and common throughout the country. these were readily transformed into tents, and made excellent sleeping accommodations by night and transport-waggons for the luggage when the commandos moved from one place to another. when a rapid march was contemplated all the heavy waggons were left behind in charge of native servants with which every burgher was provided. it was quite in keeping with their other ideas of personal comfort for many boer burghers to carry a coloured parasol or an umbrella to protect them from the rays of the sun, and it was not considered beneath their dignity to wear a woman's shawl around their shoulders or head when the morning air was chilly. at first sight of these unique spectacles the stranger in the boer country felt amused, but if he cared to smile at every unmilitary scene he would have had little time for other things. it was a republican army composed of republicans, and anything that smacked of the opposite was abhorred. there were no flags or insignia of any kind to lead the burghers on. what mottoes there were that expressed their cause were embroidered on the bands of their slouch-hats and cut on the stocks of their rifles. "for god and freedom," "for freedom, land, and people," and "for god, country, and justice," were among the sentiments which some of the burghers carried into battle on their hats and rifles. others had vierkleur ribbons as bands for their hats, while many carried on the upturned brim of their hats miniatures containing the photographs of the presidents. aside from the dangers arising from a contact with the enemy and the heart-burns resulting from a long absence from his home, the boer burgher's experiences at the front were not arduous. first and foremost he had a horse and rifle, and with these he was always more or less happy. he had fresh meat provided to him daily, and he had native servants to prepare and serve his meals for him. he was under no discipline whatever, and he could be his own master at all times. he generally had his sons or brothers with him in the same laager, and to a boer there was always much joy in this. he could go on picket duty and have a brush with the enemy whenever he felt inclined to do so, or he could remain in his laager and never have a glimpse of the enemy. every two months he was entitled to a ten days' leave of absence to visit his home, and at other times during the first five months of the war, his wife and children were allowed to visit him in his laager. if he was stationed along the northern or western frontiers of the transvaal he was in the game country, and he was able to go on buck-shooting expeditions as frequently as he cared. he was not compelled to rise at a certain hour in the morning, and he could go to bed whenever he wished. there was no drill, no roll-calls, nor any of the thousands of petty details which the soldiers of even the portuguese army are compelled to perform. as a result of a special law there was no work on sundays or church-holidays unless the enemy brought it about, and then, if he was a stickler for the observance of the sabbath, he was not compelled to move a muscle. the boer burgher could eat, sleep, or fight whenever he wished, and inasmuch as he was a law unto himself, there was no one who could compel him to change his habits. it was an ideal idle-man's mode of living and the foreign volunteers who had leaves of absence from their own armies made the most of their holiday, but in that respect they did not surpass their companion, the boer burgher. the most conspicuous feature of the boer forces was the equality of the officers and the men, and the entire absence of any assumption of superiority by the leaders of the burghers. none of the generals or commandants wore any uniform of a distinctive type, and it was one of the most difficult problems to distinguish an officer from the burghers. all the officers, from the commandant-general down to the corporal, carried rifles and bandoliers, and all wore the ordinary garb of a civilian, so that there was nothing to indicate the man's military standing. the officers associated with their men every hour of the day, and, in most instances, were able to call the majority of them by their christian names. with one or two exceptions, all the generals were farmers before the war started, and consequently they were unable to assume any great degree of superiority over their farmer-burghers if they had wished to do so. general meyer pitched quoits with his men, general botha swapped tobacco with any one of his burghers, and general smuts and one of his officers held the whist championship of their laager. rarely a burgher touched his hat before speaking to an officer, but he invariably shook hands with him at meeting and parting. it is a boer custom to shake hands with friends or strangers, and whenever a general visited a laager adjoining his own, the hand-shaking reminded one of the president's public reception days at washington. when general joubert went from camp to camp he greeted all the burghers who came near him with a grasp of the hand, and it was the same with all the other generals and officers. whenever presidents kruger and steyn went to the commandos, they held out their right hands to all the burghers who approached them, and one might have imagined that every boer was personally acquainted with every other one in the republics. it was the same with strangers who visited the laagers, and many a sore wrist testified to the boer's republicanism. some one called it the "hand-shaking army," and it was a most descriptive title. many of the burghers could not restrain from exercising their habit, and shook hands with british prisoners, much to the astonishment of the captured. another striking feature of life in the boer laagers was the deep religious feeling which manifested itself in a thousand different ways. it is an easy matter for an irreligious person to scoff at men who pass through a campaign with prayer and hymn-singing, and it is just as easy to laugh at the man who reads his testament at intervals of shooting at the enemy. the boer was a religious man always, and when he went to war he placed as much faith in prayer and in his testament as in his rifle. he believed that his cause was just, and that the lord would favour those fighting for a righteous cause in a righteous spirit. on october th, before the burghers crossed the frontier at laing's nek, a religious service was conducted. every burgher in the commandos knelt on the ground and uttered a prayer for the success and the speedy ending of the campaign. hymns were sung, and for a full hour the hills, whereon almost twenty years before many of the same burghers sang and prayed after the victory at majuba, were resounding with the religious and patriotic songs of men going forward to kill and to be killed. in their laagers the boers had religious services at daybreak and after sunset every day, whether they were near to the enemy or far away. at first the novelty of being awakened early in the morning by the voices of a large commando of burghers was not conducive to a religious feeling in the mind of the stranger, but a short stay in the laagers caused anger to turn to admiration. after sunset the burghers again gathered in groups around camp-fires, and made the countryside re-echo with the sound of their deep, bass voices united in dutch hymns and psalms of praise and thanksgiving. whether they ate a big meal from a well-equipped table, or whether they leaped from their horses to make a hasty meal of biltong and bread, they reverently bowed their heads and asked a blessing before and after eating. before they went into battle they gathered around their general and were led in prayer by the man who afterwards led them against the enemy. when the battle was concluded, and whether the field was won or lost, prayers were offered to the god of battles. in the reports which generals and commandants made to the war departments, victories and defeats were invariably ascribed to the will of god, and such phrases as "all the glory belongs to the lord of hosts who led us," and "god gave us the victory," and "divine favour guided our footsteps," were frequent. when one is a stranger of the boers and unacquainted with the simple faith which they place in divine guidance, these religious manifestations may appear inopportune in warfare, but it is necessary to observe the boer burgher in all his various actions and emotions to know that he is sincere in his religious beliefs and that he endeavours to be a christian in deed as well as in word. the boer army, like cromwell's troopers, could fight as well as pray, but in reality it was not a fighting organisation in the sense that warfare was agreeable to the burghers. the boer proved that he could fight when there was a necessity for it, but to the great majority of them it was heartrending to slay their fellow human beings. the boer's hand was better adapted to the stem of a pipe than to the stock of an army rifle, and he would rather have been engaged in the former peaceful pursuit had he not believed that it was a holy war in which he was engaged. that he was not eager for fighting was displayed in a hundred different ways. he loved his home more than the laagers at the front, and he took advantage of every opportunity to return to his home and family. he lusted not for battle, and he seldom engaged in one unless he firmly believed that success depended partly upon his individual presence. he did not go into battle because he had the lust of blood, for he abhorred the slaughter of men, and it was not an extraordinary spectacle to see a boer weeping beside the corpse of a british soldier. on the field, after the spion kop battle, where boer guns did their greatest execution, there were scores of bare-headed boers who deplored the war, and amidst ejaculations of "poor tommy," and "this useless slaughter," brushed away the tears that rolled down over their brown cheeks and beards. never a boer was seen to exult over a victory. they might say "that is good" when they heard of a spion kop or a magersfontein, but never a shout or any other of the ordinary methods of expressing joy. the foreigners in the army frequently were beside themselves with joy after victories, but the boers looked stolidly on and never took any part in the demonstrations. chapter iv the army organisation when the boer goes on a lion-hunting expedition he must be thoroughly acquainted with the game country; he must be experienced in the use of the rifle, and he must know how to protect himself against the attacks of the enemy. when he is thus equipped and he abandons lion-hunting for the more strenuous life of war the boer is a formidable enemy, for he has combined in him the qualities of a general as well as the powers of a private soldier. in lion-hunting the harm of having too many men in authority is not so fatal to the success of the expedition as it is in real warfare, where the enemy may have less generals but a larger force of men who will obey their commands. all the successes of the boer army were the result of the fact that every burgher was a general, and to the same cause may be attributed almost every defeat. whenever this army of generals combined and agreed to do a certain work it was successful, but it was unsuccessful whenever the generals disagreed. if the opportunity had given birth to a man who would have been accepted as general of the generals--a man was needed who could introduce discipline and training into the rudimentary military system of the country--the chances of the boer success would have been far greater. the leaders of the boer army were elected by a vote of the people in the same manner in which they chose their presidents and civil officials. age, ability, and military experience did not have any bearing on the subject except in so far as they influenced the mind of the individual voter. family influences, party affiliations, and religion had a strong bearing on the result of the elections, and, as is frequently the case with civil authorities in other countries, the men with the best military minds and experience were not always chosen. it was as a result of this system that general joubert was at the head of the army when a younger, more energetic, and more warlike man should have been commandant-general. at the last election for commandant-general, joubert, a progressive, also received the support of the conservatives, so that two years later he might not be a candidate for the presidency against paul kruger. in the same manner the commandants of the districts and the field-cornets of the wards were chosen, and in the majority of the cases no thought was taken of their military ability at the time of the election. the voters of a ward, the lowest political division in the country, elected their field-cornet more with a view of having him administer the laws in times of peace than with the idea of having him lead them into a battle, and in like manner the election of a commandant for a district, which generally consisted of five wards, was more of a victory for his popularity in peace than for his presumed bravery in war. the boer system of electing military leaders by vote of the people may have had certain advantages, but it had the negative advantage of effacing all traces of authority between officers and men. the burgher who had assisted in electing his field-cornet felt that that official owed him a certain amount of gratitude for having voted for him, and obeyed his orders or disobeyed them whenever he chose to do so. the field-cornet represented authority over his men, but of real authority there was none. the commandants were presumed to have authority over the field-cornets and the generals over the commandants, but whether the authority was of any value could not be ascertained until after the will of those in lower rank was discovered. by this extraordinary process it happened that every burgher was a general and that no general was greater than a burgher. [illustration: electing a field-cornet] the military officers of the boers, with the exception of the commandant-general, were the same men who ruled the country in times of peace. war suddenly transformed pruning-hooks into swords, and conservators of peace into leaders of armies. the head of the army was the commandant-general, who was invested with full power to direct operations and lead men. directly under his authority were the assistant commandant-generals, five of whom were appointed by the volksraad a short time before the beginning of hostilities. then in rank were those who were called vecht-generals, or fighting generals, in order to distinguish them from the assistant-generals. then followed the commandants, the leaders of the field-cornets of one district, whose rank was about that of colonels. the field-cornets, who were in command of the men of a ward, were under the authority of a commandant, and ranked on a par with majors. the burghers of every ward were subdivided into squads of about twenty-five men under the authority of a corporal, whose rank was equal to that of a lieutenant. there were no corps, brigades, regiments, and companies to call for hundreds of officers; it was merely a commando, whether it had ten men or ten thousand, and neither the subdivision nor the augmentation of a force affected the list of officers in any way. nor would such a multiplication of officers weaken the fighting strength of a force, for every officer, from commandant-general to corporal, carried and used a rifle in every battle. when the officers had their men on the field, and desired to make a forward movement or an attack on the enemy, it was necessary to hold a krijgsraad, or council of war, and this was conducted in such a novel way that the most unmilitary burgher's voice bore almost as much weight as that of the commandant-general. every officer, from corporal to commandant-general, was a member of the krijgsraad, and when a plan was favoured by the majority of those present at the council it became a law. the result of a krijgsraad meeting did not necessarily imply that it was the plan favoured by the best military minds at the council, for it was possible and legal for the opinions of sixteen corporals to be adopted although fifteen generals and commandants opposed the plan with all their might. that there ever was such a result is problematical, but there were many krijgsraads at which the opinion of the best and most experienced officers were cast aside by the votes of field-cornets and corporals. it undoubtedly was a representative way of adopting the will of the people, but it frequently was exceedingly costly. at the krijgsraad in natal which determined to abandon the positions along the tugela, and retire north of ladysmith the project was bitterly opposed by the generals who had done the bravest and best fighting in the colony, but the votes of the corporals, field-cornets, and commandants outnumbered theirs, and there was nothing for the generals to do but to retire and allow ladysmith to be relieved. at mafeking scores of krijgsraad were held for the purpose of arriving at a determination to storm the town, but invariably the field-cornets and corporals out-voted the commandants and generals and refused to risk the lives of their men in such a hazardous attack. even the oft-repeated commands of the commandant-general to storm mafeking were treated with contempt by the majority of the krijgsraad who constituted the highest military authority in the country so far as they and their actions were concerned. when there happened to be a deadlock in the balloting at a krijgsraad it was more than once the case that the vote of the commandant-general counted for less than the voice of a burgher. in one of the minor krijgsraads in natal there was a tie in the voting, which was ended when an old burgher called his corporal aside and influenced him to change his vote. the commandant-general himself had not been able to change the result of the voting, but the old burgher who had no connection with the council of war practically determined the result of the meeting. the krijgsraad was the supreme military authority in the country, and its resolutions were the law, all its infractions being punishable by fines. the minority of a krijgsraad was obliged to assist in executing the plans of the majority, however impracticable or distasteful they might have been to those whose opinions did not prevail. there were innumerable instances where generals and commandants attended a krijgsraad and afterward acted quite contrary to the resolution adopted by the council. in any other army such action would have been called disobedience of orders, with the corresponding punishment, but in the boer army it amounted to little beyond personal animosity. according to boer military law an officer offending in such a manner should have been arraigned before the krijgsraad and tried by his fellow officers, but such occurrences were extremely rare. one of the few instances where a man was arraigned before a krijgsraad for dereliction of duty was after the enemy succeeded in damaging one of the "long tom's" around ladysmith. the artillery officer who was in charge of the gun when the dynamite was exploded in its muzzle was convicted of neglect of duty and was disgraced before the army. after the battle of belmont vecht-general jacob prinsloo, of the free state, was court-martialled for cowardice and was reduced to the rank of burgher. it was prinsloo's first battle, and he was thoroughly frightened. when some of his men came up to him and asked him for directions to repel the advancing british force prinsloo trembled, rubbed his hands, and replied: "god only knows; i don't," and fled with all his men at his heels. two instances where commandants acted contrary to the decisions of krijgsraad were the costly disobedience of general erasmus, at dundee, and the still more costly mistake of commandant buis at hlangwe. when the boers invaded natal and determined to attack the british forces then stationed at the town of dundee, it was decided at a krijgsraad that general lucas meyer should attack from the east and south, and general erasmus from the north. general meyer occupied talana hill, east of dundee, and a kopje south of the town, and attacked general penn-symons's forces at daybreak. general erasmus and the pretoria commando, with field pieces and a "long tom," occupied impati mountain on the north, but when the time arrived for him to assist in the attack on the enemy several hundred yards below him he would not allow one shot to be fired. as a result of the miscarriage of plans general meyer was compelled to retire from talana hill in the afternoon, while the british force was enabled to escape southward into ladysmith. if general erasmus had followed the decision of the krijgsraad, and had assisted in the attack, there is hardly any doubt that the entire force of the enemy would have been captured. even more disastrous was the disobedience of commandant buis, of the heidelberg commando, who was ordered to occupy a certain point on the boschrand, called hlangwe, about february th. the british had tried for several weeks to drive the boers from the boschrand, but all their attempts proved fruitless. a certain commando had been holding hlangwe for a long time, and commandant buis was ordered to take his commando and relieve the others by night. instead of going to hlangwe immediately that night he bivouacked in a small nek near by, intending to occupy the position early the following morning. during the night the british discovered that the point was unoccupied and placed a strong force there. in this manner the british wedge was forced into the boschrand, and shortly afterwards the boers were obliged to retreat across the tugela and secure positions on the north bank of the stream. of less serious consequence was general de la rey's refusal to carry out a decision he himself had assisted in framing. it was at brandfort, in the free state, several weeks after bloemfontein was occupied, and all the boer generals in the vicinity met in krijgsraad and voted to make a concerted attack upon the british force at tafelkop, midway between bloemfontein and brandfort. generals smuts and botha made a long night trek to the positions from which they were to attack the enemy at daybreak. it had been arranged that general de la rey's commando should open the attack from another point, and that no operations should begin until after he had given a certain signal. the signal was never given, and, after waiting for it several hours, the other generals returned to brandfort only to find that general de la rey had not even moved from his laager. when the lower ranks of officers--the field-cornets and corporals--disobeyed the mandates of the krijgsraads, displayed cowardice or misbehaved in any other manner, the burghers under their command were able to impeach them and elect other officers to fill the vacancies. the corporals were elected by the burghers after war was begun, and they held their posts only so long as their behaviour met with the favour of those who placed them in authority. during the first three months of the war innumerable changes of that nature were made, and not infrequently was it the case that a corporal was unceremoniously dismissed because he had offended one of his men who happened to wield much influence over his fellows in the commando. personal popularity had much to do with the tenure of office, but personal bravery was not allowed to go unrewarded, and it happened several times in the laagers along the tugela that a corporal resigned his rank so that one of his friends who had distinguished himself in a battle might have his work recognised and appreciated. however independent and irresponsible the boer officer may have been, he was a man in irons compared with the boer burgher. the burgher was bound by no laws except such as he made for himself. there was a state law which compelled him to join a commando and to accompany it to the front, or in default of that law to pay a small fine. as soon as he was "on commando," as he called it, he became his own master and could laugh at mr. atkins across the way who was obliged to be constantly attending to various camp duties when not actively engaged. no general, no act of volksraad could compel him to do any duty if he felt uninclined to perform it, and there was no power on earth which could compel him to move out of his tent if he did not desire to go. in the majority of countries a man may volunteer to join the army but when once he is a soldier he is compelled to fight, but in the boer country the man was compelled to join the army, but he was not obliged to fight unless he volunteered to do so. there were hundreds of men in the natal laagers who never engaged in one battle and never fired a shot in the first six months of the war. again, there were hundreds of men who took part in almost every one of the battles, whether their commando was engaged or not, but they joined the fighting voluntarily and not because they were compelled to do so. when a krijgsraad determined to make or resist an attack it was decided by the officers at the meeting how many men were needed for the work. immediately after the meeting the officers returned to their commandos, and, after explaining to their burghers the nature and object of the expedition, asked for volunteers. the officer could not call upon certain men and order them to take part in the purposed proceedings he could only ask them to volunteer their services. it happened at times that an entire commando of several hundred men volunteered to do the work asked of them, but just as often it happened that only from one-tenth to one-twentieth of the burghers expressed their willingness to accompany the expedition. several days after the spion kop battle general botha called for four hundred volunteers to assist in resisting an attack that it was feared would be made. there were almost ten thousand men in the environs of ladysmith at that time, but it was with the utmost difficulty that the four hundred men could be gathered. two hundred men came from one commando, one hundred and fifty-three from another, twenty-eight from a third, fifteen from another, and five from another made a total of four hundred and one men--one more than was called for. when commandant-general joubert, at his hoofd--or head-laager at modderspruit, received an urgent request for reinforcements he was not able to order one of the commandos that was in laager near him to go to the assistance of the fighting burghers; he could only make a request of the different commandants and field-cornets to ask their men to volunteer for the service. if the men refused to go, then naturally the reinforcements could not be sent, and those who were in dire need of assistance had the alternative of continuing the struggle alone or of yielding a position to the enemy. the relief of ladysmith was due to the fact that generals botha, erasmus, and meyer could not receive reinforcements from commandant-general joubert, who was north of ladysmith with almost ten thousand men. botha, meyer, and erasmus had been fighting for almost a week without a day's intermission, and their two thousand men were utterly exhausted when joubert was asked to send reinforcements, or even men enough to relieve those from fighting for a day or two, but a krijgsraad had decided that the entire army should retreat to the biggarsberg, and joubert could not, or at least would not, send any burghers to the tugela, with the result that botha was compelled to retreat and abandon positions which could have been held indefinitely if there had been military discipline in the commandos. it was not always the case that commandants and generals were obliged to go begging for volunteers, and there were innumerable times when every man of a commando did the work assigned to him without a murmur. during the natal campaign the force was so large, and the work seemed so comparatively easy that the majority of the burghers never went to the firing line, but when british successes in the free state placed the boers on the defensive it was not so easy to remain behind in the laagers and allow others more willing to engage in the fighting. general cronje was able to induce a much larger percentage of his men to fight than commandant-general joubert, but the reasons for this were that he was much firmer with his men and that he moved from one place to another more frequently than joubert. towards the end of general cronje's campaign all his men were willing to enter a battle, but that was because they realised that they must fight, and in that there was much that was lacking in the natal army. when a boer realised that he must fight or lose his life or a battle, he would fight as few other men were able to fight, but when he imagined that his presence at the firing line was not imperative he chose to remain in laager. [illustration: krijgsraad, near thaba n'chu] there were hundreds of burghers who took part in almost every battle in natal, and these were the individuals who understood the frame of mind of some of their countrymen, and determined that they must take upon themselves the responsibilities of fighting and winning battles. among those who were most forward in fighting were the johannesburg police, the much-despised "zarps" of peaceful times; the pretoria commando, and the younger men of other commandos. there were many old boers who left their laagers whenever they heard the report of a gun, but the ages of the great majority of those who were killed or injured were between seventeen and thirty years. after the british captured bloemfontein, and the memorable krijgsraad at kroonstad determined that guerilla warfare should be followed thereafter, it was not an easy matter for a burgher to remain behind in the laagers, for the majority of the ox-waggons and other camp paraphernalia was sent home and laager life was not so attractive as before. commandos remained at one place only a short time, and there was almost a daily opportunity for a brush with the enemy. the war had been going on for six months, but many of the men had their first taste of actual war as late as that, and, after the first battle had been safely passed through, the following ones were thought of little consequence. when general christian de wet began his campaign in the eastern part of the free state there were hardly enough men left in the laagers to guard them properly when battles were in progress, and in the battles at sannaspost, moester's hoek, and wepener probably ninety-nine per cent. of his men took part in every battle. in natal the real fighting spirit was lacking from the majority of the men, or commandant-general joubert might never have been wiped aside from the path to durban; but months afterward, when the burgher learned that his services were actually needed, and that, if he did not fight, he was liable to be captured and sent to st. helena, he polished his mauser and fought as hard and well as he was able. the same carelessness or indifference which manifested itself throughout the early part of the natal campaign with regard to the necessity of assisting in the fighting was evident in that all-important part of an army's work, the guarding of the laagers. the boers did not have sentries or outposts as they are understood in trained armies, but they had what was called a "brandwacht," or fire-guard, which consisted of a hundred men or more who were supposed to take positions at a certain distance from the laagers, and remain there until daybreak. these men were volunteers secured by the corporal, who was responsible to his field-cornet for a certain number of men every night. it was never made compulsory upon any one to go on brandwacht, but the duty was not considered irksome, and there were always as many volunteers as were required for the work. the men on brandwacht carried with them blankets, pipes, and kettles, and, after reaching the point which they were to occupy during the night, they tethered their horse to one of their feet and made themselves comfortable with pipe and coffee. when the enemy was known to be near by the brandwacht kept awake, as a matter of personal safety, but when there seemed to be no danger of attack he fastened his blankets around his body and, using his saddle for a pillow, slept until the sun rose. there was a mild punishment for those who slept while on this duty, and occasionally the burgher found in the morning that some one had extracted the bolt of his rifle during the night. when the corporal produced the bolt as evidence against him in the morning and sentenced him to carry a stone or a box of biscuits on his head the burgher might decline to be punished, and no one could say aught against his determination. the boer scouts, or spies as they called them, received their finest tribute from sir george white, the british commander at ladysmith. in a speech which he delivered at cape town, sir george said-- "all through this campaign, from the first day the boers crossed the frontier to the relief of ladysmith, i and others who have been in command near me, have been hampered by their excellent system of intelligence, for which i give them all credit. i wish to goodness that they had neglected it, for i could not move a gun, even if i did not give the order till midnight, but they knew it by daylight next morning. and they had their agents, who gave them their intelligence through thick and thin. i locked up everybody who i thought could go and tell, but somehow or other the intelligence went on." the boer was an effective scout because he was familiar with the country, and because his eyes were far better than those of any of the men against whom he was pitted. the south african atmosphere is extraordinarily clear, and every person has a long range of vision, but the boer, who was accustomed to the climatic conditions, could distinguish between boer and briton where the stranger could barely see a moving object. field-glasses were almost valueless to boer scouts, and few of them were carried by any one except the generals and commandants, who secured them from the war department before the beginning of the war. there was no distinct branch of the army whose exclusive duty it was to scout, and there was even greater lack of organisation in the matter of securing information concerning the movements of the enemy than in the other departments of the army's work. when a general or commandant felt that it was necessary to secure accurate information concerning the enemy's strength and whereabouts he asked for volunteers to do the work. frequently, during the natal campaign, no scouting was done for days, and the generals were absolutely ignorant of everything in connection with the enemy. later in the campaign several scouting corps composed of foreign volunteers were organised, and thereafter the boers depended wholly upon the information they secured. there was no regulation which forbade burghers from leaving the laagers at any time, or from proceeding in any direction, and much of the information that reached the generals was obtained from these rovers over the veld. it was extremely difficult for a man who did not have the appearance of a burgher to ride over the veld for more than a mile without being hailed by a boer who seemed to have risen out of the earth unnoticed. "where are you going?" or "where are you coming from?" were his invariable salutations, and if the stranger was unable to give a satisfactory reply or show proper passports he was commanded, "hands up." the burghers were constantly on the alert when they were on the veld, whether they were merely wandering about, leaving for home, or returning to the laager, and as soon as they secured any information which they believed was valuable they dashed away to the nearest telegraph or heliograph station, and reported it to their general or commandant. in addition to this valuable attribute the boers had the advantage of being among white and black friends who could assist them in a hundred different ways in securing information concerning the enemy, and all these circumstances combined to warrant general white's estimate of the boers' intelligence department, which, notwithstanding its efficiency, was more or less chimerical. in no department or branch of the army was there any military discipline or system, except in the two small bodies of men known as the state artillery of the transvaal and the state artillery of the free state. these organisations were in existence many years before the war was begun, and had regular drills and practice which were maintained when they were at the front. the johannesburg police also had a form of discipline which, however, was not strict enough to prevent the men from becoming mutinous when they imagined that they had fought the whole war themselves, and wanted to have a vacation in order that they might visit their homes. the only vestige of real military discipline that was to be found in the entire boer army was that which was maintained by field-cornet a.l. thring, of the kroonstad commando, who had a roll-call and inspection of rifles every morning. this extraordinary procedure was not relished by the burghers, who made an indignant protest to general christian de wet. the general upheld the field-cornet's action, and told the men that if all the officers had instituted similar methods more success might have attended the army's operations. with the exception of the instances cited, every man was a disciplinary law unto himself, and when he transgressed that law no one would punish him but his conscience. there were laws on the subject of obedience in the army, and each had penalties attached to it, but it was extremely rare that a burgher was punished. when he endured discipline he did it because he cared to do so, and not because he feared those who had authority over him. he was deeply religious, and he felt that in being obedient he was finding favour in the eyes of the providence that favoured his cause. it was as much his religion as his ability to aim unerringly that made the boer a good soldier. if the boer army had been composed of an irreligious, undisciplined body of men, instead of the psalm-singing farmers, it would have been conquered by itself. the religion of the boers was their discipline. chapter v the boer military system the disparity between the british and boer armies seemed to be so great at the time the war was begun that the patriotic englishman could hardly be blamed for asserting that the struggle would be of only a month's duration. on the one side was an army every branch of which was highly developed and specialised and kept in constant practice by many wars waged under widely different conditions. back of it was a great nation, with millions of men and unlimited resources to draw upon. at the head of the army were men who had the theory and practice of warfare as few leaders of other armies had had the opportunities of securing them. opposed to this army was practically an aggregation of farmers, hastily summoned together and utterly without discipline or training. they were unable to replace with another a single fallen burgher and prevented from adding by importation to their stock of ammunition a single rifle or a single pound of powder. at the head were farmers who, perhaps, did not know that there existed a theory of warfare and much less knew how recent wars were fought and won. the means by which thirty thousand farmers of no military training were enabled to withstand the opposition of several hundred thousand well-trained soldiers for the greater part of a year must be attributed to the military system which gave such a marvellous advantage. such success as attended the boer army was undoubtedly the success of its system of warfare against that of the british. [illustration: boer commandants reading message from british officers after the battle of dundee] the boers themselves were not aware that they had a military system; at least, none of the generals or men acknowledged the existence of such, and it was not an easy matter to find evidences that battles were fought and movements made according to certain established rules which suggested a system. the boers undoubtedly had a military plan of their own which was naturally developed in their many wars with natives and with the british troops. it might not have been a system, according to the correct definition of the term--it might have been called an instinct for fighting, or a common-sense way of attempting to defeat an enemy--but it was a matter which existed in the mind of every single citizen of the two republics. it was not to be learned from books or teachers, nor could it be taught to those who were not born in the country. whatever that system was, it was extremely rudimentary, and was never developed to any extent by the discipline and training which any system necessarily requires in order to make it effective. there was a natural system or manner used by the boers when hunting for lion or buck, and it was identically the same which they applied against the british army. every boer was expert in the use of his rifle; he had an excellent eye for country and cover; he was able to tell at a glance whether a hill or an undulation in the ground was suitable for fighting purposes, whether it could be defended and whether it offered facilities for attack or retreat. just as every boer was a general, so it was that every burgher had in his mind a certain military plan fashioned after the needs and opportunities of the country, and this was their system--a sort of national as well as natural military system. in the british army, as well as in the other modern armies, the soldier is supposed to understand nothing, know nothing, and do nothing but give obedience to the commands of his officers. the trained soldier learns little, and is supposed to learn little, of anything except the evolutions he is taught on the drill-grounds. it is presumed that he is stupid, and the idea appears to be to prevent him from being otherwise in order that he may the better fulfil his part in the great machine to which a trained army has been likened. the soldier is regarded as an animal of low mental grade, whose functions are merely to obey the orders of the man who has been chosen by beings of superior intelligence to lead him. when the man who was chosen in times of peace to lead the men in times of war meets the enemy and fails to make a display of the military knowledge which it was presumed he possessed, then the soldiers who look to him for leadership are generally useless, and oftentimes worse than useless, inasmuch as their panic is likely to become infectious among neighbouring bodies of soldiers who are equipped with better leaders. in trained armies the value of a soldier is a mere reflection of the value of the officer who commands him, and the value of the army is relatively as great as the ability of its generals. in the boer army the generals and commandants were of much less importance, for the reason that the boer burgher acted almost always on his own initiative. the generals were of more service before the beginning of a battle than while it was in progress. when a burgher became aware of the presence of the enemy his natural instincts, his innate military system, told him the best manner in which to attack his adversary as well as his general could have informed him. the generals and other officers were of prime importance in leading the burghers to the point where the enemy was likely to be found, but when that point was reached their period of usefulness ended, for the burghers knew how to wage the battle as well as they did. generally speaking, the most striking difference between the boer army and a trained army was the difference in the distribution of intelligence. all the intelligence of a trained army is centred in the officers; in the boer army there was much practical military sense and alertness of mind distributed throughout the entire force. mr. disraeli once said: "doubtless to think with vigour, with clearness, and with depth in the recess of a cabinet is a fine intellectual demonstration; but to think with equal vigour, clearness, and depth among bullets, appears the loftiest exercise and the most complete triumph of the human faculties." without attempting to insinuate that every boer burgher was a man of the high mental attainments referred to by the eminent british statesman, it must be acknowledged that the fighting boer was a man of more than ordinary calibre. in battle the boer burgher was practically his own general. he had an eye which quickly grasped a situation, and he never waited for an order from an officer to take advantage of it. when he saw that he could with safety approach the enemy more closely he did so on his own responsibility, and when it became evident to him that it would be advantageous to occupy a different position in order that he might stem the advance of the enemy he acted entirely on his own initiative. he remained in one position just as long as he considered it safe to do so, and if conditions warranted he went forward, and if they were adverse he retreated, whether there was an order from an officer or not. when he saw that the burghers in another part of the field were hard pressed by the enemy he deserted his own position and went to their assistance, and when his own position became untenable, in his own opinion, he simply vacated it and went to another spot where bullets and shells were less thick. if he saw a number of the enemy who were detached from the main body of their own force, and he believed that they could be taken prisoner, he enlisted a number of the burghers who were near him, and made an effort to capture them, whether there was an officer close at hand or a mile distant. no one was surfeited with orders; in fact, the lack of them was more noticeable, and it was well that it was so, for the boer burgher disliked to be ordered, and he always did things with better grace when he acted spontaneously. an illustration of this fact was an incident at the fight of modderspruit where two young boers saved an entire commando from falling into the hands of the enemy. lieutenant oelfse, of the state artillery, and reginald sheppard, of the pretoria commando, observed a strong force of the british advancing towards a kopje where the krugersdorp commando was concealed. the two men saw that the krugersdorpers would be cut off in a short time if they were not informed of the british advance, so they determined to plunge across the open veld, six hundred yards from the enemy's guns, and tell them of their danger. no officer could have compelled the men to undertake such a hazardous journey across a bullet-swept plain, but oelfse and sheppard acted on their own responsibility, succeeded in reaching the krugersdorp commando without being hit, and gave to the commandant the information which undoubtedly saved him and his men from being captured. incidents of like nature occurred in almost every battle of the campaign, and occasionally the service rendered so voluntarily by the burghers was of momentous consequences, even if the act itself seemed trivial at the time. a second feature of the boer army, and equally as important as the freedom of action of its individuals, was its mobility. every burgher was mounted on a fleet horse or pony, and consequently his movements on the battlefield, whether in an advance or in a retreat, were many times more rapid that those of his enemy--an advantage which was of inestimable value both during an engagement and in the intervals between battles when it was necessary to secure new positions. during the progress of a battle the boers were able to desert a certain point for a time, mount their horses and ride to another position, and throw their full strength against the latter, yet remaining in such close touch with the former that it was possible to return and defend it in an exceedingly short space of time. with the aid of their horses they could make such a sudden rush from one position to another that the infantry of the enemy could be surrounded and cut off from all communications with the body of its army almost before it was known that any boers were in the vicinity, and it was due to that fact that the boers were able to make so many large numbers of captives. the fighting along the tugela furnished many magnificent examples of the boers' extreme mobility. there it was a constant jump from one position to another--one attack here yesterday, another there to-day. it was an incessant movement made necessary by the display of energy by the british, whose thrice-larger forces kept the boers in a state of continued ferment. on one side of the river, stretched out from the south of spion kop, in the west, to almost helpmakaar, in the east, were thirty thousand british troops watching for a weak point where they might cross, and attacking whenever there seemed to be the slightest opportunity of breaking through; on the other side were between two and three thousand mounted boers, jumping from one point to another in the long line of territory to be guarded, and repelling the attacks whenever they were made. the country was in their favour, it is true, but it was not so favourable that a handful of men could defend it against thousands, and it was partly due to the great ease and rapidity with which the boers could move from one place to another, that ladysmith remained besieged so long. the mobility of the boers was again well demonstrated by the retreat of the burghers from the environs of ladysmith. after the krijgsraad decided to withdraw the forces into the biggarsberg, it required only a few hours for all the many commandos to leave the positions they had held so long; to load their impedimenta and to be well on the way to the northward. the departure was so rapid that it surprised even those who were in ladysmith. one day the boers were shelling the town as usual and all the commandos were observed in the same positions which they had occupied for several months; the following day not a single boer was to be seen anywhere. they had quietly mounted their horses by night and before the sun rose in the morning they were trekking north beyond modderspruit and elandslaagte, on the way to glencoe. general cronje's flight from magersfontein was also accomplished with great haste and in good order, but what probably was the finest example of the boers' mobility was the magnificent retreat along the basuto border of generals grobler, olivier, and lemmer, with their six thousand men, when the enemy was known to be in great strength within several days' march of them. after the capture of cronje at paardeberg the three generals, who had been conducting the campaign in the eastern provinces of cape colony, were in a most dangerous position, having the enemy in the rear, the left and left front, the neutral basuto land on the right front, and only a small strip of territory along the western border of the basuto country apparently free of the enemy. the british were in bloemfontein and in the surrounding country, and it seemed almost impossible that the six thousand men could ever extricate themselves from such a position to join the boer forces in the north. it would have been a comparatively easy matter for six thousand mounted men to make the journey if they had not been loaded down with impedimenta, but the three generals were obliged to carry with them all their huge transport waggons and heavy camping paraphernalia. the trek northward was begun near colesburg on march th, and when all the different commandos had joined the main column the six thousand horsemen, the seven hundred and fifty transport-waggons, the two thousand natives, and twelve thousand cattle formed a line extending more than twenty-four miles. the scouts, who were despatched westward from the column to ascertain the whereabouts of the enemy, reported large forces of british cavalry sixty and seventy miles distant, but for some inexplicable reason the british made no attempt to cut off the retreat of the three generals, and on march th they reached kroonstad, having traversed almost four hundred miles of territory in the comparatively short time of sixteen days. sherman's march to the sea was made under extraordinary conditions, but the retreat of the three generals was fraught with dangers and difficulties much greater. sherman passed through a fertile country, and had an enemy which was disheartened. the three generals had an enemy flushed with its first victories, while the country through which they passed was mountainous and muddy. if the column had been captured so soon after the paardeberg disaster, the relief of kimberley and the relief of ladysmith, it might have been so disheartening to the remaining boer commandos that the war might have been ended at that time. it was a magnificent retreat and well worthy to be placed in the boer's scroll of honour with cronje's noble stand at paardeberg, with spion kop and magersfontein. [illustration: general grobler] the boer army was capable of moving rapidly under almost any conditions. the british army demonstrated upon many occasions that it could not move more than two or three miles an hour when the column was hampered with transport waggons and camping paraphernalia, and frequently it was impossible to proceed at that pace for many consecutive hours. a boer commando easily travelled six miles an hour and not infrequently, when there was a necessity for rapid motion, seven and even eight miles an hour were traversed. when general lucas meyer moved his commandos along the border at the outset of the war and learned that general penn-symons was located at dundee he made a night march of almost forty miles in six hours and occupied talana hill, a mile distant from the enemy, who was ignorant of the boers' proximity until the camp was shelled at daybreak. when general de wet learned that colonel broadwood was moving westward from thaba n'chu on march th, he was in laager several miles east of brandfort, but it required only several minutes for all the burghers to be on their horses and ready to proceed toward the enemy. the journey of twenty-five miles to sannaspost, or the bloemfontein waterworks, was made in the short time of five hours, while colonel broadwood's forces consumed seven hours in making the ten miles' journey from thaba n'chu to the same place. the british column was unable to move more rapidly on account of its large convoy of waggons, but even then the rate of progress was not as great as that made by the trekking party of the three generals who were similarly hampered. it was rarely the case that the boers attempted to trek for any considerable distance with their heavy waggons when they were aware of the presence of the enemy in the vicinity. ox-waggons were always left behind, while only a small number of mule-waggons, bearing provisions and ammunition, were taken, and on that account they were able to move with greater rapidity than their opponents. frequently they entered dangerous territory with only a few days' provisions and risked a famine of food and ammunition rather than load themselves down with many lumbering waggons which were likely to retard their progress. after fighting the battle at moester's hoek, general de wet had hardly three days' food and very little ammunition with him, yet rather than delay his march and send for more waggons, he proceeded to wepener where, after several days' fighting, both his food and ammunition became exhausted and he was obliged to lie idle around the enemy and await the arrival of the supplies which he might have carried with him at the outset of the trek if he had cared to risk such an impediment to his rapid movements. one of the primary reasons why the boer could move more rapidly than the british was the difference in the weight carried by their horses. the boer paid no attention to art when he went to war, and consequently he carried nothing that was not absolutely essential. his saddle was less than half the weight of a british saddle, and that was almost all the equipment he carried when on a trek. the boer rider and equipment, including saddle, rifle, blankets, and a food-supply, rarely weighed more than two hundred and fifty pounds, which was not a heavy load for a horse to carry. a british cavalryman and his equipment of heavy saddle, sabre, carbine, and saddle-bags, rarely weighed less than four hundred pounds--a burden which soon tired a horse. again, almost every boer had two horses, so that when one had been ridden for an hour or more he was relieved and led, while the other was used. in this manner the boers were able to travel from twelve to fourteen hours in a day when it was absolutely necessary to reach a certain point at a given time. six miles an hour was the rate of progress ascribed to horses in normal condition, and when a forced march was attempted they could travel sixty and seventy miles in a day, and be in good condition the following morning to undertake another journey of equal length. small commandos often covered sixty and seventy miles in a day, especially during the fighting along the tugela, while after the battles of poplar grove and abraham's kraal, and the capture of bloemfontein, it seemed as if the entire army in the free state were moving northward at a rate of speed far exceeding that of an express train. the mobility of the boer army was then on a par with that of the british army after the battle of dundee, and it was difficult to determine which of the two deserved the palm for the best display of accelerated motion. a feature of the boer system of warfare which was most striking was the manner in which each individual protected himself, as far as possible, from danger. in lion-hunting it is an axiom that the hunter must not pursue a wounded lion into tall grass or underbrush lest the pursuer may be attacked. in the boer army it was a natural instinct, common to all the burghers, which led them to seek their own safety whenever danger seemed to be near. men who follow the most peaceful pursuits of life value their lives highly. they do not assume great risks even if great ends are to be attained. the majority of the boers were farmers who saw no glory in attempting to gain a great success, the attainment of which made it necessary that they should risk their lives. it seemed as if each man realised that his death meant a great loss to the boer army, already small, and that he did not mean to diminish its size if he could possibly prevent it. the boer was quick in noting when the proper time arrived for retreat, and he was not slothful in acting upon his observations. retreating at the proper time was one of the boers' characteristics, but it could not be called an advantage, for frequently many of the boers misjudged the proper time for retreating and left the field when a battle was almost won. at poplar grove the boers might have won the day if the majority of the burghers had remained and fought an hour or two longer instead of retreating precipitately when the individuals determined that safety was to be found only in flight. at elandslaagte the foreigners under general kock did not gauge the proper moment for retreat, but continued with the fighting and were almost annihilated by the lancers because of their lack of discretion in that respect. the burghers of the free state, in particular, had the instinct of retreating abnormally developed, and whenever a battle was in progress large numbers of burghers could be observed going in an opposite direction as rapidly as their ponies could carry them over the veld. the lack of discipline in the commandos made such practices possible; in fact there was no rule or law by which a burgher could be prevented from retreating or deserting whenever he felt that he did not care to participate in a battle. after the british occupation of bloemfontein there was a small skirmish about eight miles north of that city at a place called tafelkop which sent the free staters running in all directions. the veld seemed to be filled with deserters, and at every farmhouse there were from two to six able-bodied men who had retreated when they believed themselves to be in grave danger. foolish men attribute all the moral courage in the world to the soldiers of their own country, but nature made a wise distribution of that gift, and not all the boers were cowards. boer generals with only a few hundred men time and again attacked thousands of british soldiers, and frequently vanquished them. general botha's twenty-five hundred men held out for a week against general buller's thirty or forty thousand men, and general cronje with his four thousand burghers succumbed to nothing less than forty thousand men and a hundred and fifty heavy guns under field-marshal lord roberts. those two examples of boer bravery would suffice to prove that the south african farmers had moral courage of no mean order if there were not a thousand and one other splendid records of bravery. the burghers did not always lie behind their shelter until the enemy had come within several hundred yards and then bowl them over with deadly accuracy. at the platrand fight near ladysmith, on january th, the boers charged and captured british positions, drove the defenders out, and did it so successfully that only a few boers were killed. the spion kop fight, a second majuba hill, was won after one of the finest displays of moral courage in the war. it requires bravery of the highest type for a small body of men to climb a steep hill in the face of the enemy which is three times greater numerically and armed with larger and more guns, yet that was the case with the boers at spion kop. there were but few battles in the entire campaign that the boer forces were not vastly outnumbered by the enemy, who usually had from twice to twenty times their number of cannon, yet the burghers were well aware of the fact and did not allow it to interfere with their plans nor did they display great temerity in battling with such a foe. when lord roberts and his three thousand cavalry entered jacobsdal there were less than one hundred armed boers in the town, but they made a determined stand against the enemy, and in a street-fight a large percentage of the burghers fell, and their blood mingled with that of those they had slain. large bodies of boers rarely attacked, and never resisted the enemy on level stretches of veld, not because they lacked courage to do so, but because they saw the futility of such action. after the british drove the boers out of the kopjes east and north-east of bloemfontein the burghers had no broken country suited to their particular style of warfare, and they retreated to the vaal without much effort to stop the advance of the enemy. the boer generals knew that the british were equipped with innumerable cannon, which could sweep the level veld for several miles before them and make the ground untenable for the riflemen--the mainstay of the boer army. [illustration: spion kop, where boers charged up the hillside] when they were on hills the boers were able to entrench themselves so thoroughly that the fire of several hundred heavy guns made hardly any impression on them, but as soon as they attempted to apply those tactics on level ground the results were most disastrous. at colenso and magersfontein the burghers remained in their trenches on the hills while thousands of shrapnel and other shells exploded above and around them, but very few men were injured, and when the british infantry advanced under cover of the shell fire the boers merely remained in the trenches until the enemy had approached to within several hundred yards and then assailed them with rifle fire. trenches always afforded perfect safety from shell fire, and on that account the boers were able to cope so long and well with the british in the fighting along the tugela and around kimberley. the boers generally remained quietly in their trenches and made no reply to the british cannon fire, however hot it was. the british generals several times mistook this silence as an indication that the boers had evacuated the trenches, and sent forward bodies of infantry to occupy the positions. when the infantry reached the boer zone of fire they usually met with a terrific mauser fire that could not be stemmed, however gallant the attacks might have been. hundreds of british soldiers lost their lives while going forward under shell fire to occupy a position which, it was presumed by the generals, was unoccupied by the boers. there were innumerable instances, also, of extraordinarily brave acts by individual burghers, but it was extremely difficult to hear of them owing to the boers' disinclination to discuss a battle in its details. no boer ever referred to his exploits or those of his friends of his own volition, and then only in the most indefinite manner. he related the story of a battle in much the same manner he told of the tilling of his fields or the herding of his cattle, and when there was any part of it pertaining to his own actions he passed it over without comment. it seemed as if every one was fighting, not for his own glorification, but for the success of his country's army, and consequently there was little hero-worship. individual acts of bravery entitled the fortunate person to have his name mentioned in the _staats-courant_, the government gazette, but hardly any attention was paid to the search for heroes, and only the names of a few men were even chronicled in the columns of that periodical. one of the bravest men in the natal campaign was a young pretoria burgher named van gas, who, in his youth, had an accident which made it necessary that his right arm should be amputated at the elbow. later in life he was injured in one of the native wars and the upper arm was amputated, so that when he joined a commando he had only the left arm. it was an extraordinary spectacle to observe young van gaz holding his carbine between his knees while loading it with cartridges, and quite as strange to see the energy with which he discharged his rifle with one hand. he was in the van of the storming party at spion kop, where a bullet passed completely through his chest. he continued, however, to work his rifle between his knees and to shoot with his left arm, and was one of the first men to reach the summit of the hill, where he snatched the rifles from the hands of two british soldiers. after the battle was won he was carried to a hospital by several other burghers, but a month afterwards he was again at the front at the tugela, going into exposed positions and shouting, "come on, fellows, here is a good chance!" his companions desired to elect him as their field-cornet, but he refused the honour. evert le roux and herculaas nel, of the swaziland police, and two of the best scouts in the boer army, were constantly engaged in recklessly daring enterprises, none of which, however, was quite equal to their actions on april st, when the vicinity of ladysmith had been in british hands for almost two months. the two men went out on patrol and by night crept up a kopje behind which about three hundred british cavalrymen were bivouacking. the men were twenty miles distant from their laagers at dundee and only a short distance from ladysmith, but they lay down and slept on the other side of the kopje, less than a hundred yards from the cavalrymen. in the morning the british cavalry was divided into three squads, and all started for ladysmith. le roux and nel swept down toward the last squad, and called, "hands up," to one of the men in the van. the cavalryman promptly held up his hands and a minute afterward surrendered his gun and himself, while the remainder of the squad fled precipitately. the two scouts, with their prisoner, quickly made a _détour_ of another kopje, and appeared in front of the first squad, of whom they made a similar demand. one of the cavalrymen, who was in advance of the others, surrendered without attempting to make any resistance, while the others turned quickly to the right and rode headlong into a deep sluit. le roux shot the horse of one of the men before he reached the sluit, loaded the unhorsed man on one of the other prisoner's horses, and then pursued the fleeing cavalrymen almost to the city-limits of ladysmith. major albrecht, the head of the free state-artillery, was one of the bravest men in general cronje's commando, and his display of courage at the battle of magersfontein was not less extraordinary than that which he made later in the river bed at paardeberg. at magersfontein albrecht and two of his artillerymen operated the cannon which were located behind schanzes twenty feet apart. the british had more than thirty cannon, which they turned upon the boer cannon whenever one of them was discharged. after a short time the fire became so hot that albrecht sent his assistants to places of safety, and operated the guns alone. for eight hours the intrepid free state artilleryman jumped from one cannon to another, returning the fire whenever there was a lull in the enemy's attack and seeking safety behind the schanze when shells were falling too rapidly. it was an uneven contest, but the bravery of the one man inspired the others, and the end of the day saw the boers nearer victory than they were in the morning. at tafelkop, on march th, three burghers were caught napping by three british soldiers, who suddenly appeared before them and shouted, "hands up!" while the soldiers were advancing toward them the three burghers succeeded in getting their rifles at their captors' heads, and turned the tables by making prisoners of them. there were many such instances of bravery, but one that is almost incredible occurred at the place called railway hill, near the tugela, on february th. on that day the boers did not appear to know anything concerning the position of the enemy, and james marks, a rustenburg farmer, determined to go out of the laager and reconnoitre on his own responsibility. marks was more than sixty-two years old, and was somewhat decrepit, a circumstance which did not prevent him from taking part in almost every one of the natal battles, however. the old farmer had been absent from his laager less than an hour when he saw a small body of british soldiers at the foot of a kopje. he crept cautiously around the kopje, and, when he was within a hundred yards of the men, he shouted, "hands up!" the soldiers immediately lifted their arms, and, in obedience to the orders of marks, stacked their guns on a rock and advanced toward him. marks placed the men in a line, saw that there were twenty-three big, able-bodied soldiers, and then marched them back into camp, to the great astonishment of his generals and fellow burghers. [illustration: plan of battlefield of sannaspost] chapter vi the boers in battle the battle of sannaspost on march st was one of the few engagements in the campaign in which the forces of the boers and the british were almost numerically equal. there were two or three small battles in which the boers had more men engaged than the british, but in the majority of instances the boers were vastly outnumbered both in men and guns. at elandslaagte the boers had exactly seven hundred and fifty burghers pitted against the five or six thousand british; spion kop was won from three thousand british by three hundred and fifty boers; at the tugela botha with not more than twenty-six hundred men fought for more than a week against ten times that number of soldiers under general buller; while the greatest disparity between the opposing forces was at paardeberg, where cronje spent a week in trying to lead his four thousand men through the encircling wall of forty or fifty thousand british soldiers. sannaspost was not a decisive battle of the war, since no point of great strategical importance was at stake, but it was more in the nature of a demonstration of what the boers were able to do when they were opposed to a force of equal strength. it was a test which was equally fair to both contestants, and neither of them could reasonably claim to have possessed an advantage over the other a day before the battle was fought. the british commander, colonel broadwood, had seventeen hundred men in his column, and general de wet was at the head of about two hundred and fifty less than that number, but the strength of the forces was equalised by the boer general's intimate knowledge of the country. colonel broadwood was experienced in indian, egyptian, and south african warfare, and the majority of his soldiers were seasoned in many battles. de wet and his men were fresh from poplar grove, abraham's kraal, and the fighting around kimberley, but they were not better nor worse than the average of the boer burghers. the british commander was hampered by a large transport train, but he possessed the advantage of more heavy guns than his adversary. all in all, the two forces were equally matched when they reached the battlefield. the day before the battle general de wet and his men were in laager several miles east of brandfort, whither they had fled after the fall of bloemfontein. his scouts brought to him the information that a small british column was stationed in the village of thaba n'chu, forty miles to the east, and he determined to march thither and attack it. he gave the order, "opzaal!" and in less than eight minutes every one of his burghers was on his horse, armed, provided with two days' rations of biltong, biscuit, coffee, and sugar, and ready to proceed. de wet himself leaped into a light, ramshackle four-wheeler, and led the advance over the dusty veld. without attempting to proceed with any semblance of military order, the burghers followed in the course of their leader, some riding rapidly, others walking beside their horses, and a few skirmishing far away on the veld for buck. the mule-teams dragging the artillery and the ammunition waggons were not permitted by their hullabalooing basuto drivers to lag far behind the general, and the dust which was raised by this long cavalcade was not unlike the clouds of locusts which were frequently mistaken for the signs of a trekking commando. mile after mile was rapidly traversed, until darkness came on, when a halt was made so that the burghers might prepare a meal, and that the general might hear from the scouts, who were far in advance of the body. after the men and horses had eaten, and the moon rose over the dark peak of thaba n'chu mountain, the burghers lighted their pipes and sang psalms and hymns until the peaceful valley resounded with their voices. [illustration: village and mountain of thaba n'chu] panting horses brought to the little stone farmhouse, where general de wet was drinking milk, the long-awaited scouts who carried the information that the british force had evacuated thaba n'chu late in the afternoon, and that it was moving hurriedly toward bloemfontein. again the order: "opzaal," and the mule train came into motion and the burghers mounted their horses. a chill night air arose, and shivering burghers wrapped blankets around their shoulders. the humming of hymns and the whistling ceased, and there was nothing but the clatter of horses' hoofs, the shouts of the basutos, and the noises of the guns and waggons rumbling over the stones and gullies to mark the nocturnal passage of the army. lights appeared at farmhouse windows, and at their gates were women and children with bread and bowls of milk and prayers for the burghers. small walls enclosing family burial plots where newly-dug ground told its own story of the war seemed grim in the moonlight; native huts with their inhabitants standing like spectres before the doors appeared like monstrous ant-heaps--all these were passed, but the drooping eyes of the burghers saw nothing. at midnight another halt was made, horses were off-saddled and men lay down on the veld to sleep. the generals and officers met in krijgsraad, and other scouts arriving told of the enemy's evident intention of spending the remainder of the night at an old-time off-saddling station known as sannaspost. the news was highly important, and the heads of the generals came closer together. maps were produced, pencil marks were made, plans were formed, and then the sleeping burghers were aroused. the trek was resumed, and shortly afterward the column was divided into two parts; the one consisting of nine hundred men under general peter de wet, proceeding by a circuitous route to the hills south of sannaspost, and the other of five hundred men commanded by general christian de wet moving through a maze of kopjes to a position west of the trekking station. the burghers were not informed of the imminence of a battle; but they required no such announcement from their generals. the atmosphere seemed to be surcharged with premonitions of an engagement, and men rubbed sleep out of their eyes and sat erect upon their horses. the blacks even ceased to crack their whips so sharply, and urged the mules forward in whispers instead of shrieks. burghers took their rifles from their backs, tested the workings of the mechanism and filled the magazine with cartridges. artillerymen leaped from their horses and led them while they sat on the cannon and poured oil into the bearings. young men speculated on the number of prisoners they would take; old men wrote their names on their hats by the light of the moon. the lights of bloemfontein appeared in the distance, and grey-beards looked longingly at them and sighed. but the cavalcade passed on, grimly, silently, and defiantly, into the haunts of the enemy. after four hours of trekking over veld, kopje, sluit, and donga, the two columns halted, the burghers dismounted, and, weary from the long journey and the lack of sleep, lay down on the earth beside their horses. commandants, field-cornets and corporals, bustling about among the burghers, horses and waggons, gave orders in undertones; generals summoned their scouts and asked for detailed information concerning the whereabouts of the enemy; patrols were scurrying hither and thither to secure accurate ideas of the topography of the territory in front of them; all who were in authority were busy, while the burghers, who carried the strength of battle in their bodies, lay sleeping and resting. the first dim rays of the day came over the tops of the eastern hills when the burghers were aroused and asked to proceed to the positions chosen by their leaders. the men under peter de wet, the younger brother of the commandant-general, were led to an elevation about a mile and a half south of sannaspost, where they placed their cannon into position and waited for the break of day. christian de wet and his five hundred burghers advanced noiselessly and occupied the dry bed of koorn spruit, a stream which crossed the main road running from thaba n'chu to bloemfontein at right angles about a mile from the station where the british forces had begun their bivouac for the night, two hours before. no signs of the enemy could be seen; there were no pickets, no outposts, and none of the usual safeguards of an army, and for some time the boers were led to believe that the british force had been allowed to escape unharmed. the burghers under the leadership of christian de wet were completely concealed in the spruit. the high banks might have been held by the forces of their enemy, but unless they crept to the edge and looked down into the stream they would not have been able to discover the presence of the boers. where the road crossed the stream deep approaches had been dug into the banks in order to facilitate the passage of conveyances--a "drift" it is called in south africa--and on either side for a distance of a mile, up and down the stream, the burghers stood by their horses and waited for the coming of the day. 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. some estimated the intervening distance at a mile, others were positive it was not more than a thousand yards--it was not light enough to distinguish accurately. "tell the burghers that i will fire the first shot," said general de wet to one of his staff. immediately the order was spread to the men in the spruit. "i see men leading oxen to the waggons; they are preparing to trek," remarked a commandant. "they are coming down this way," announced another, slapping his thigh joyfully. a few minutes afterwards clouds of dust arose, and at intervals the waggons in the van could be seen coming down the slope toward the drift. the few tents fell, and men in brown uniforms moved hither and thither near the waterworks building. waggon after waggon joined in the procession; drivers were shrieking and wielding their whips over the heads of the oxen, and farther behind were cavalrymen mounting their horses. it was daylight then, although the sun was still below the horizon, and the movements of the enemy could be plainly discerned. the ox-teams came slowly down the road--there seemed to be no limit to their number--and the generals retreated down the drift to the bottom of the spruit, so that their presence should not be discerned by the enemy, and to await the arrival of the waggons. the shrieking natives drew nearer, the rumbling of the waggons became more distinct, and soon the first vehicle descended the drift. a few burghers were sent forward to intercept it. as soon as it reached the bottom of the spruit the men grasped the bridles of the horses, and instantly there were shrieks from the occupants of the vehicle. it was filled with women and children, all pale with fright on account of the unexpected appearance of the boers. the passengers were quickly and gently taken from the waggon and sent to places of safety in the spruit, while a burgher jumped into the vehicle and drove the horses up the other drift and out upon the open veld. the operation of substituting drivers was done so quickly and quietly that none of those approaching the drift from the other side noticed anything extraordinary, and proceeded into the spruit. other burghers stood prepared to receive them as they descended the drift with their heavily laden ammunition and provision waggons, and there was little trouble in seizing the british drivers and placing the whips into the hands of boers. waggon after waggon was relieved of its drivers and sent up to the other bank without creating a suspicion in the minds of the others who were coming down the slope from the waterworks. after fifty or more waggons had crossed the drift a solitary cavalry officer with the rank of captain, riding leisurely along, followed one of them. his coat had a rent in it and he was holding the torn parts together, as if he were planning the mending of it when he reached bloemfontein. a young boer sprang toward him, called "hands up!" and projected the barrel of his carbine toward him. the officer started out of his reverie, involuntarily reached for his sword, but repented almost instantly, and obeyed the order. general de wet approached the captain, touched his hat in salute, and said, "good morning, sir." the officer returned the complimentary greeting and offered his sword to the boer. de wet declined to receive the weapon and told the officer to return to his men and ask them to surrender. "we have a large force of men surrounding you," the general explained, "and you cannot escape. in order to save many lives i ask you to surrender your men without fighting." the officer remained silent for a moment, then looked squarely into the eyes of the boer general and said, "i will return to my men and will order them to surrender." de wet nodded his head in assent, and the captain mounted his horse. "i will rely upon your promise," the general added, "if you break it i will shoot you." general de wet and several of his commandants followed the cavalry officer up the drift and stood on the bank while the horseman galloped slowly toward the troops which were following the waggons down the slope. the general raised his carbine and held it in his arms. his eyes were fixed on the officer, and he stood as firm as a statue until the cavalryman reached his men. there was a momentary pause while the captain stood before his troops, then the horses were wheeled about and their hoofs sent showers of dust into the air as they carried their riders in retreat. general de wet stepped forward several paces, raised his carbine to his shoulder, aimed steadily for a second, then fired. the bullet whistled menacingly over the heads of oxen and drivers--it struck the officer, and he fell.[ ] [ ] this incident of the battle was witnessed by the writer, as well as by several of the foreign military attachés. whether the british officer broke his promise by asking his men to retreat or whether his troopers were disobedient is a question, but it is more than likely that he endeavoured to act in good faith. whether the officer was killed or only wounded by general de wet's shot could not be ascertained. all along the banks of the spruit, for a mile on either side of the ravine, and over on the hills where peter de wet and his burghers lay, men had been waiting patiently and expectantly for that signal gun of christian de wet. they had been watching the enemy toiling down the slope under the very muzzles of their guns for almost an age, it seemed, yet they dared not fire lest the plans of the generals should be thwarted. men had lain flat on the ground with their rifles pointing minute after minute at individuals in the advancing column, but the words of their general, "i will fire the first shot," restrained them. the flight of the bullet which entered the body of the cavalry officer marked the ending of the long period of nervous tension, and the burghers were free to use their guns. [illustration: the author, and a basuto pony which assisted in the fight at sannaspost] until the officer advised his men to retreat and he himself fell from his horse the main body of the british troops was ignorant of the presence of the boers, but the report of the rifle was a summons to battle and instantly the field was filled with myriads of stirring scenes. the lazy transport-train suddenly became a thing of rapid motion; the huge body of troops was quickly broken into many parts; horses that had been idling along the road plunged forward as if projected by catapults. officers with swords flashing in the sunlight appeared leading their men into different positions, cannon were hurriedly drawn upon commanding elevations, and red cross waggons scattered to places of safety. the peaceful transport-train had suddenly been transformed into a formidable engine of war by the report of a rifle, and the contest for a sentiment and a bit of ground was opened by shrieking cannon-shell and the piercing cry of rifle-ball. down at the foot of the slope, where the drift crossed the spruit, boers were dragging cannon into position, and in among the waggons which had become congested in the road, burghers and soldiers were engaging in fierce hand-to-hand encounters. a stocky briton wrestled with a youthful boer, and in the struggle both fell to the ground; near by a cavalryman was firing his revolver at a boer armed with a rifle, and a hundred paces away a burgher was fighting with a british officer for the possession of a sword. over from the hills in the south came the dull roar of boer cannon, followed by the reports of the shells exploding in the east near the waterworks. british cannon opened fire from a position near the white smoke-stack and scores of bursting projectiles fell among the waggons at the spruit. oxen and horses were rent limb from limb, waggons tumbled over on their sides; boxes of provisions were thrown in all directions, and out of the cloud of dust and smoke stumbled men with blood-stained faces and lacerated bodies. terrified and bellowing oxen twisted and tugged at their yokes; horses broke from their fastenings in the waggons and dashed hither and thither, and weakling donkeys strove in vain to free themselves from waggons set on fire by the shells. explosion followed explosion, and with every one the mass became more entangled. dead horses fell upon living oxen; wheels and axles were thrown on the backs of donkeys, and plunging mules dragged heavy waggons over great piles of _débris_. the cannon on the southern hills became more active and their shells caused the landscape surrounding the waterworks to be filled with geysers of dust. troops which were stationed near the white smoke-stack suddenly spurred their horses forward and dashed northward to seek safety behind a long undulation in the ground. the artillerymen in the hills followed their movements with shells, and the dust-fountains sprang up at the very heels of the troops. the cannon at the drift joined in the attack on the horsemen scattered over the slope, and the big guns at the waterworks continued to reply vigorously. the men in the spruit were watching the artillery duel intently as they sped up and down the bottom of the water-less stream, searching for points of vantage. a large number of them moved rapidly down the spruit towards its confluence with the modder river in order to check the advance of the troops driven forward by the shell-fire, and another party rushed eastward to secure positions in the rear of the british cannon at the waterworks. the banks of the stream still concealed them, but they dared not fire lest the enemy should disturb their plans. on and on they dashed, over rocks and chasms, until they were within a few hundred yards of a part of the british force. slowly they crept up the sides of the spruit, cautiously peered out over the edge of the bank and then opened fire on the men at the cannon and the troops passing down the slope. little jets of dust arose where their bullets struck the ground, men fell around the cannon, and cavalrymen quickly turned and charged toward the spruit. the shells of the cannon at the drift and on the southern hills fell thicker and thicker among the troops and the air above them was heavy with the light blue smoke of bursting shrapnel. the patter of the boer rifles at the spruit increased in intensity and the jets of brown dust became more numerous. the cavalrymen leaped from their horses and ran ahead to find protection behind a line of rocks. the intermittent, irregular firing of the boers was punctuated by the regular, steady reports of british volleys. the brown dust-geysers increased among the rocks where the british lay, and soon the soldiers turned and ran for their horses. burghers crept from rock to rock in pursuit of them, and their bullets urged the fleeing horsemen on. the british cannon spoke less frequently, and shells and bullets fell so thickly around them that bravery in such a situation seemed suicidal, and the last artilleryman fled. boers ran up and turned the loaded guns upon the backs of those who had operated them a few moments before. down in the north-western part of the field a large force of troops was dashing over the veld toward the banks of the spruit. officers, waving swords above their heads and shouting commands to their subordinates, led the way. a few shells exploding in the ranks scattered the force temporarily and caused horses to rear and plunge, but the gaps quickly disappeared, and the men moved on down the slope. boers rode rapidly down the spruit and out upon the veld behind a low range of kopjes which lay in front of the british force. horses were left in charge of native servants, and the burghers crept forward on hands and knees to the summit of the range. they carefully concealed themselves behind rocks and bushes and waited for the enemy to approach more closely. the cavalrymen spread out in skirmishing order as they proceeded, and, ignorant of the proximity of the boers, drew their horses into a walk. the burghers in the kopje fired a few shots, and the troops turned quickly to the left and again broke into a gallop. the firing from the kopje increased in volume, the cannon from the hills again broke forth, the little dust-clouds rose out of the earth on all sides of the troopers, and shrapnel bursting in the air sent its bolts and balls of iron and steel; into the midst of the brown men and earth. horses and riders fell, officers leaped to the ground and shouted encouragement to their soldiers, men sprang behind rocks and discharged their rifles. minutes of agony passed. officers gathered their men and attempted to lead them forward, but they had not progressed far when the boers in the spruit in front of them swept the ground with the bullets of their rifles. burghers crept around the edge of the kopjes and emptied their carbines into the backs of the cavalrymen, cannons poured shell upon them from three different directions, and these men on the open plain could not see even a brace of boers to fire upon. men and horses continued to fall, the wounded lay moaning in the grass, while shells and bullets sang their song of death more loudly every second to those who braved the storm. a tiny white cloth was raised, the firing ceased instantly, and the brave band threw down its arms to the burghers who sprang out from the spruit and rocky kopje. in the east the low hills were dotted with men in brown. to the right and left of them, a thousand yards apart, were boer horsemen circling around kopjes and seeking positions for attacking the already vanquished but stubborn enemy. rifle fire had ceased and cannon sounded only at intervals of a few minutes. women at the doors of the two farmhouses in the centre of the battlefield, and a man drawing water at a well near by, were not inharmonious with the quietness and calmness of the moment, but the epoch of peace was of short duration. the boer horsemen stemmed the retreat of the men in brown, and compelled them to retrace their steps. another body of burghers made a wide _détour_ north-eastward from the spruit, and, jumping from their horses, crept along under the cover of an undulation in the ground for almost a half-mile to a point which overlooked the route of the british retreat. the enemy was slow in coming, and a few of the boers lay down to sleep. others filled their pipes and lighted them, and one abstracted a pebble from his shoe. as the cavalrymen drew nearer to them the burghers crept forward several paces and sought the protection of rocks or piled stones together in the form of miniature forts. "shall we fire now?" inquired a beardless free state youth. "wait until they come nearer," replied an older burgher close by. silence was maintained for several minutes, when the youth again became uneasy. "i can hit the first one of those lancers," he begged, as he pointed with his carbine to a cavalryman known to the boers as a "lancer," whether he carried a lance or not. the cannon in the south urged the cavalrymen forward with a few shells delivered a short distance behind them, and then the old burgher called to the youth, "see if you can hit him now." the boy missed the rider but killed the horse, and the british force quickly dismounted and sought shelter in a small ravine. the reports of volley firing followed, and bullets cut the grass beside the burghers and flattened themselves against the rocks. another volley, and a third, in rapid succession, and the burghers pressed more closely to the ground. an interval of a minute, and they glanced over their tiny stockades to find a british soldier. "they are coming up the kopje!" shouted a burgher, and their rifles swept the hillside with bullets. more volleys came from below and, while the leaden tongues sang above and around them, the burghers turned and lay on their backs to refill the magazines of their rifles. another interval, and the attack was renewed. "they are running!" screamed a youth exultingly, and burghers rose and fired at the men in brown at the foot of the kopje. marksmen had their opportunity then, and long aim was taken before a shot was fired. men knelt on the one knee and rested an elbow on the other, while they held their rifles to their shoulders. reports of carbines became less frequent as the troops progressed farther in an opposite direction, but increased again when the cavalrymen returned for a second attack upon the kopje. "lend me a handful of cartridges, jan," asked one man of his neighbour, as they watched the oncoming force. "they must want this kopje," remarked another burgher jocularly, as he filled his pipe with tobacco and lighted it. the british cannon in the east again became active, and the dust raised by their shells was blown over the heads of the burghers on the kopje. the reports of the big guns of the boers reverberated among the hills, while the regular volleys of the british rifles seemed to be beating time to the minor notes and irregular reports of the boer carbines. at a distance the troops moving over the brown field of battle resembled huge ants more than human beings; and the use of smokeless powder, causing the panorama to remain perfectly clear and distinct, allowed every movement to be closely followed by the observer. cannon poured forth their tons of shells, but there was nothing except the sound of the explosion to denote where the guns were situated. rifles cut down lines of men, but there was no smoke to indicate where they were being operated, and unless the burghers or soldiers displayed themselves to their enemy there was nothing to indicate their positions. shrapnel bursting in the air, the reports of rifles and heavy guns and the little puffs of dust where shells and bullets struck the ground were the only evidences of the battle's progress. the hand-to-hand conflicts, the duels with bayonets and swords and the clouds of smoke were probably heroic and picturesque before the age of rapid-fire guns, modern rifles, and smokeless ammunition, but here the field of battle resembled a country fox-chase with an exaggerated number of hunters, more than a representation of a battle of twenty-five years ago. on the summit of the kopje the burghers were firing leisurely but accurately. one man aimed steadily at a soldier for fully twenty seconds, then pressed the trigger, lowered his rifle and watched for the effect of the shot. bullets were flying high over him, and the shrapnel of the enemy's guns exploded far behind him. there seemed to be no great danger, and he fired again. "i missed that time," he remarked to a burgher who lay behind another rock several yards distant. his neighbour then fired at the same soldier, and both cried simultaneously: "he is hit!" the enemy again disappeared in the little ravine, and the burghers ceased firing. shells continued to tear through the air, but none exploded in the vicinity of the men, and they took advantage of the lull in the battle to light their pipes. a swarm of yellow locusts passed overhead, and exploding shrapnel tore them into myriads of pieces, their wings and limbs falling near the burghers. "i am glad i am not a locust," remarked a burgher farther to the left of the others, as he dropped a handful of torn fragments of the insects. shells and bullets suddenly splashed everywhere around the burghers, and they crouched more closely behind the rocks. the enemy's guns had secured an accurate range, and the air was filled with the projectiles of iron and lead. exploding shells splintered rocks into atoms and sent them tearing through the grass. puffs of smoke and dirt were springing up from every square yard of ground, and a few men rose from their retreats and ran to the rear where the basuto servants were holding their horses. more followed several minutes afterwards, and when those who remained on the summit of the kopje saw that ten times their number of soldiers were ascending the hill under cover of cannon fire they also fled to their horses. an open plain half a mile wide lay between the point where the burghers mounted their horses, and another kopje in the north-east. the men lay closely on their horses' backs, plunged their spurs in the animals' sides, and dashed forward. the cavalrymen, who had gained the summit of the kopje meanwhile, opened fire on the fleeing boers, and their bullets cut open the horses' sides and ploughed holes into the burgher's clothing. one horse, a magnificent grey who had been leading the others, fell dead as he was leaping over a small gully, and his rider was thrown headlong to the ground. another horseman turned in his course, assisted the horseless rider to his own brown steed, and the two were borne rapidly through the storm of bullets towards the kopje. another horse was killed when he had carried his rider almost to the goal of safety, and the boer was compelled to traverse the remainder of the distance on foot. apparently all the burghers had escaped across the plain, and their field-cornet was preparing to lead them to another position when a solitary horseman, a mere speck of black against a background of brown, lifeless grass, issued from a rocky ravine below the kopje occupied by the enemy, and plunged into the open space. lee-metfords cracked and cut open the ground around him, but the rider bent forward and seemed to become a part of his horse. every rod of progress seemed to multiply the fountains of dust near him; every leap of his horse seemed necessarily his last. on, on he dashed, now using his stirrups, now beating his horse with his hands. it seemed as if he were making no progress, yet his horse's legs were moving so swiftly. "they will get him," sighed the field-cornet, looking through his glasses. "he has a chance," replied a burgher. seconds dragged wearily, the firing increased in volume, and the dust of the horse's heels mingled with that raised by the bullets. the sound of the hoofs beating down on the solid earth came louder and louder over the veld, the firing slackened and then ceased, and a foaming, panting horse brought his burden to where the burghers stood. the exhausted rider sank to the ground, and men patted the neck and forehead of the quivering beast. down in the valley, near the spruit, the foreign military attachés in uniforms quite distinct were watching the effect of the british artillery on the saddle belonging to one of their number. "they will never hit it," volunteered one, as a shell exploded ten yards distant from the leathern mark. "they must think it is a crowd of boers," suggested another, when a dozen shells had fallen without injuring the saddle. fifteen, twenty tongues of dust arose, but the leather remained unmarred by scratch or rent, and the attachés became the target of the heavy guns. "i am hit," groaned lieutenant nix, of the netherlands-indian army, and his companions caught him in their arms. blood gushed from a wound in the shoulder, but the soldier spirit did not desert him. "here, demange!" he called to the french attaché, "hold my head. and you, thompson and allen, see if you cannot bind this shoulder." the norwegian and hollander bound the wound as well as they were able. "reichman!" the injured man whispered, "i am going to die in a few minutes, and i wish you would write a letter to my wife." the american attaché hastily procured paper and pencil, and while shells and shrapnel were bursting over and around them the wounded man dictated a letter to his wife in holland. blood flowed copiously from the wound and stained the grass upon which he lay. he was pale as the clouds above him, and the pain was agonising, but the dying man's letter was filled with nothing but expressions of love and tenderness. in the south-eastern part of the field a large party of cavalrymen was speeding in the direction of thaba n'chu. on two sides of them, a thousand yards behind, small groups of horsemen were giving chase. at a distance, the riders appeared like ants slowly climbing the hillside. now and then a boer rider suddenly stopped his horse, leaped to the ground, and fired at the fleeing cavalrymen. a second afterwards he was on his horse again, bending to the chase. shot followed shot, but the distance between the forces grew greater, and one by one the burghers turned their animals' heads and slowly retraced their steps. a startled buck bounded over the veld, two rifles were turned upon it, and its flight was ended. [illustration: calling for volunteers to man captured cannon after sannaspost] the sound of firing had ceased, and the battle was concluded. waggons with red cross flags fluttering from the tall staffs above them, issued from the mountains and rumbled through the valleys. burghers dashed over the field in search of the wounded and dying. men who a few moments before were straining every nerve to kill their fellow-beings became equally energetic to preserve lives. wounded soldiers and burghers were lifted out of the grass and carried tenderly to the ambulance waggons. the dead were placed side by side, and the same cloth covered the bodies of boer and briton. men with spades upturned the earth, and stood grimly by while a man in black prayed over the bodies of those who died for their country. boer officers, with pencils and paper in their hands, sped over the battlefield from a group of prisoners to a line of passing waggons, and made calculations concerning the result of the day's battle. three boers killed and nine wounded was one side of the account. on the credit sheet were marked four hundred and eight british soldiers, seven cannon, one hundred and fifty waggons, five hundred and fifty rifles, two thousand horses and cattle, and vast stores of ammunition and provisions captured during the day. in among the north-eastern hills, where a farmer's daub-and-wattle cottage stood, were the prisoners of war, chatting and joking with their captors. the officers walked slowly back and forth, never raising their eyes from the ground. dejection was written on their faces. near them were the captured waggons, with groups of noisy soldiers climbing over them in search of their luggage. on the ground others were playing cards and matching coins. young boers walked amongst them and engaged them in conversation. near the farmhouse stood a tall cape colony boer talking with his former neighbour, who was a prisoner. several americans among the captured disputed the merits of the war with a yankee burgher, who had readily distinguished his countrymen among the throng. some one began to whistle a popular tune, others joined, and soon almost every one was participating. an officer gave the order for the prisoners to fall in line, and shortly afterward the men in brown tramped forward, while the burghers stepped aside and lined the path. a soldier commenced to sing another popular song, british and boer caught the refrain, and the noise of tramping feet was drowned by the melody of the united voices of friend and foe singing-- "it's the soldiers of the queen, my lads, who've been, my lads--who've seen, my lads, * * * * * we'll proudly point to every one of england's soldiers of the queen." chapter vii the generals of the war the names and deeds of the men who led thirty thousand of their fellow-peasants against almost a quarter of a million of the trained troops of the greatest empire in the world, and husbanded their men and resources so that they were enabled to continue the unequal struggle for the greater part of a year will live for ever in the history of the dark continent. when racial hatred and the bitternesses of the war have been forgotten, and south africa has emerged from its long period of bloodshed and disaster, then all afrikanders will revere the memory of the valiant deeds of cronje, joubert, botha, meyer, de wet, and the others who fought so gallantly in a cause which they considered just and holy. such noble examples of heroism as cronje's stand at paardeberg, botha's defence of the tugela and the region east of pretoria; de wet's warfare in the free state, and meyer's fighting in the transvaal will shine in african history as long as the southern cross illumes the path of civilised people in that region. when future generations search the pages of history for deeds of valour they will turn to the records of the boer-british war of - , and find that the military leaders of the farmers of south africa were not less valorous than those of the untrained followers of cromwell or william of orange, the peace-loving mountaineers of switzerland, or the patriotic countrymen of washington. the leaders of the boer forces were not generals in the popular sense of the word. almost without exception, they were men who had no technical knowledge of warfare; men who were utterly without military training of any nature, and who would have been unable to pass an examination for the rank of corporal in a european army. among the entire list of generals who fought in the armies of the two republics there were not more than three who had ever read military works, and cronje was the only one who ever studied the theory and practice of modern warfare, and made an attempt to apply the principles of it to his army. every one of the boer generals was a farmer who, before the war, paid more attention to his crops and cattle than he did to evolving ideas for application in a campaign, and the majority of them, in fact, never dreamed that they would be called upon to be military leaders until they were nominated for the positions a short time before hostilities were commenced. joubert, cronje, ferreira, and meyer were about the only men in the two republics who were certain that they would be called upon to lead their countrymen, for all had had experience in former wars; but men like botha, de wet, de la rey, and snyman, who occupied responsible positions afterward, had no such assurance, and naturally gave little or no attention to the study of military matters. the men who became the boer generals gained their military knowledge in the wilds and on the veld of south africa where they were able to develop their natural genius in the hunting of lions and the tracking of game. the boer principle of hunting was precisely the same as their method of warfare and consequently the man who, in times of peace, was a successful leader of shooting expeditions was none the less adept afterward as the leader of commandos. when the volksraad of the transvaal determined to send an ultimatum to great britain, it was with the knowledge that such an act would provoke war, and consequently preparations for hostilities were immediately made. one of the first acts was the appointment of five assistant commandant-generals--piet cronje, schalk burgher, lucas meyer, daniel erasmus, and jan kock--all of whom held high positions in the government, and were respected by the boer people. after hostilities commenced, and it became necessary to have more generals, six other names were added to the list of assistants of commandant-general joubert--those chosen being sarel du toit, hendrik schoeman, john de la rey, hendrik snyman, and herman r. lemmer. the selections which were so promiscuously made were proved by time to be wise, for almost without exception the men developed into extraordinarily capable generals. in the early part of the campaign many costly mistakes and errors of judgment were made by some of the newly-appointed generals, but such misfortunes were only to be expected from men who suddenly found themselves face to face with some of the best-trained generals in the world. later, when the campaign had been in progress for several months, and the farmers had had opportunities of learning the tactics of their opponents, they made no move unless they were reasonably certain of the result. one of the prime reasons for the great success which attended the boer army before the strength of the enemy's forces became overwhelming, was the fact that the generals were allowed to operate in parts of the country with which they were thoroughly acquainted. general cronje operated along the western frontiers of the republics, where he knew the geographical features of the country as well as he did those of his own farm. general meyer spent the greater part of his life in the neighbourhood of the biggarsberg and northern natal, and there was hardly a rod of that territory with which he was unfamiliar. general botha was born near the tugela, and, in his boyhood days, pursued the buck where afterward he made such a brave resistance against the forces of general buller. general christian de wet was a native of dewetsdorp, and there was not a sluit or donga in all the territory where he fought so valiantly that he had not traversed scores of times before the war began. general de la rey spent the greater part of his life in griqualand west, cape colony, and when he was leading his men around kimberley and the south-western part of the free state he was in familiar territory. general snyman, who besieged mafeking, was a resident of the marico district, and consequently was acquainted with the formation of the country in the western part of the transvaal. in the majority of cases the generals did not need the services of an intelligence department, except to determine the whereabouts of the enemy, for no scouts or patrols could furnish a better account of the nature of the country in which they were fighting than that which existed in the minds of the leaders. under these conditions there was not the slightest chance for any of the generals falling into a trap laid by the enemy, but there always were opportunities for leading the enemy into ambush. the boer generals also had the advantage of having excellent maps of the country in which they were fighting, and by means of these they were enabled to explain proposed movements to the commandants and field-cornets who were not familiar with the topography of the land. these maps were made two years before the war by a corps of experts employed by the transvaal government, and on them was a representation of every foot of ground in the transvaal, free state, natal, and cape colony. a small elevation near durban and a spruit near cape town were marked as plainly as a kopje near pretoria, while the british forts at durban and cape town were as accurately pictured as the roads that led to them. the boers had a map of the environs of ladysmith which was a hundred times better than that furnished by the british war office, yet ladysmith was the natal base of the british army for many years. the greater part of the credit for the boers' preparedness must be given to the late commandant-general piet j. joubert, who was the head of the transvaal war department for many years. general joubert, or "old piet," as he was called by the boers, to distinguish him from the many other jouberts in the country, was undoubtedly a great military leader in his younger days, but he was almost seventy years old when he was called upon to lead his people against the army of great britain, and at that age very few men are capable of great mental or physical exertion. there was no greater patriot in the transvaal than he, and no one who desired the absolute independence of his country more sincerely than the old general; yet his heart was not in the fighting. like kruger, he was a man of peace, and to his dying day he believed that the war might have been avoided easily. unlike kruger, he clung to the idea that the war, having been forced upon them, should be ended as speedily as possible, and without regard to the loss of national interests. joubert valued the lives of the burghers more highly than a clause in a treaty, and rather than see his countrymen slain in battle he was willing to make concessions to those who harassed his government. joubert was one of the few public men in the transvaal who firmly believed that the differences between the two countries would be amicably adjusted, and he constantly opposed the measures for arming the country which were brought before him. the large armament was secured by him, it is true, but the volksraads compelled him to purchase the arms and ammunition. if joubert had been a man who loved war he would have secured three times as great a quantity of war material as there was in the country when the war was begun; but he was distinctly a man who loved peace. he constantly allowed his sentiments to overrule his judgment of what was good for his country, and the result of that line of action was that at the beginning of hostilities there were more boer guns in europe and on the ocean than there were in the transvaal. general joubert was a grand old boer in many respects, and no better, more righteous, and more upright man ever lived. he worked long and faithfully for his people, and he undoubtedly strove to do that which he believed to be the best for his country, but he was incapable of performing the duties of his office as a younger, more energetic, and a more warlike man would have attended to them. joubert was in his dotage, and none of his people were aware of it until the crucial moment of the war was passed. when he led the boers at majuba and laing's nek, in , he was in the prime of his life--energetic, resourceful, and undaunted by any reverses. in , when he followed the commandos into natal, he was absolutely the reverse--slow, wavering, and too timid to move from his tent. he constantly remained many miles in the rear of the advance column, and only once went into the danger zone, when he led a small commando south of the tugela. then, instead of leading his victorious burghers against the forces of the enemy, he retreated precipitately at the first sign of danger, and established himself at modderspruit, a day's journey from the foremost commandos, where he remained with almost ten thousand of his men for three months. joubert attempted to wage war without the shedding of blood, and he failed. when general meyer reported that about thirty boers had been killed and injured in the fight at dundee, the commandant-general censured him harshly for making such a great sacrifice of blood, and forbade him from following the fleeing enemy, as such a course would entail still greater casualties. when sir george white and his forces had been imprisoned in ladysmith, and there was almost a clear path to durban, joubert held back and would not risk the lives of a few hundred burghers, even when it was pointed out to him that the men themselves were eager to assume the responsibility. he made only one effort to capture ladysmith, but the slight loss of life so appalled him that he would never sanction another attack, although the town could easily have been taken on the following day if an attempt had been made. although he had a large army round the besieged town he did not dig a yard of entrenchment in all the time he was at modderspruit, nor would he hearken to any plans for capturing the starving garrison by means of progressive trenches. while generals botha, meyer, and erasmus, with less than three thousand men, were holding the enemy at the tugela, joubert, with three times that number of men to guard impotent ladysmith, declined to send any ammunition for their big guns, voted to retreat, and finally fled northward to colenso, deserting the fighting men, destroying the bridges and railways as he progressed, and even leaving his own tents and equipment behind. there were extenuating circumstances in connection with joubert's failure in the campaign--his age, an illness, and an accident while he was in laager--and it is but charitable to grant that these were fundamentally responsible for his shortcomings, but it is undoubted that he was primarily responsible for the failure of the natal campaign. the army which he commanded in natal, although only twelve or thirteen thousand men in strength, was the equal in fighting ability of seventy-five thousand british troops, and the only thing it lacked was a man who would fight with them and lead them after a fleeing enemy. if the commandant-general had pursued the british forces after all their defeats and had drawn the burghers out of their laagers by the force of his own example, the major part of the history of the natal campaign would have been made near the indian ocean instead of on the banks of the tugela. the majority of the boers in natal needed a commander-in-chief who would say to them "come," but joubert only said "go." the death of general joubert in pretoria, on march th, was sincerely regretted by all south africans, for he undoubtedly was one of the most distinguished men in the country. during his long public career he made many friends who held him in high honour for his sterling qualities, his integrity, and his devotion to his country's cause. he made mistakes--and there are few men who are invulnerable to them--but he died while striving to do that which he regarded the best for his country and its cause. if dying for one's country is patriotism, then joubert's death was sweet. when war-clouds were gathering and the storm was about to burst over the transvaal piet cronje sat on the stoep of his farmhouse in potchefstroom, evolving in his mind a system of tactics which he would follow when the conflict began. he was certain that he would be chosen to lead his people, for he had led them in numerous native wars, in the conflict in , and later when jameson made his ill-starred entry into the transvaal. cronje was a man who loved to be amid the quietude of his farm, but he was in the cities often enough to realise that war was the only probable solution of the differences between the uitlanders and the boers, and he made preparations for the conflict. he studied foreign military methods and their application to the boer warfare; he evolved new ideas and improved old ones; he planned battles and the evolutions necessary to win them; he had a natural taste for things military. before all the world had heard the blast of the war-trumpet, cronje had deserted the peaceful stoep and was attacking the enemy on the veld at mafeking. a victory there, and he was riding at the head of his men toward kimberley. a skirmish here, a hard-fought battle there, and he had the diamond city in a state of siege. victories urged him on, and he led the way southward. a magersfontein to his wreath, a belmont and a graspan--and it seemed as if he were more than nominally the south african napoleon. a reverse, and cronje was no longer the dashing, energetic leader of the month before. doggedly and determinedly he retraced his steps, but advanced cautiously now and then to punish the enemy for its over-confidence. beaten back to kimberley by the overpowering force of the enemy, he endured defeat after defeat until finally he was compelled to abandon the siege in order to escape the attacks of a second army sent against him. the enemy's web had been spun around him, but he fought bravely for freedom from entanglement. general french was on one side of him, lord roberts on another, lord kitchener on a third--and against the experience and troops of all these men was pitted the genius of the potchefstroom farmer. a fight with roberts's horse on thursday, february th; a march of ten miles and a victorious rear-guard action with lord kitchener on friday; a repulse of the forces under lords roberts and kitchener on saturday, and on sunday morning the discovery that he and his four thousand men in the river-bed at paardeberg were surrounded by forty thousand troops of the enemy--that was a four days' record which caused the lion of potchefstroom merely to show his fangs to his enemy. when general cronje entered the river-bed on saturday he was certain that he could fight his way out on the following day. scores of his burghers appealed to him to trek eastward that night, and commandant-general ferreira, of the free state, asked him to trek north-east in order that their two boer forces might effect a junction, but cronje was determined to remain in the positions he then occupied until he could carry all his transport-waggons safely away. in the evening commandants de beer and grobler urged the general to escape and explained to him that he would certainly be surrounded the following day, but cronje steadfastly declined, and expressed his ability to fight a way through any force of the enemy. even late that night, while the british troops were welding the chain which was to bind him hard and fast in the river-bed, many of cronje's men begged the general to desert the position, and when they saw him so determined they deserted him and escaped to the eastward. cronje might have accepted the advice of his officers and men if he had not believed that he could readily make his way to the east, where he did not suspect the presence of any of lord roberts's troops. not until the following forenoon, when he saw the british advance-guard marching over the hills on the south side of the river, did he realise that the enemy had surrounded him and that he had erred when he determined to hold the position. the grave mistake could not be rectified, and cronje was in no mood for penitence. he told his men that he expected reinforcements from the east and counselled them to remain cool and fire with discretion until assistance came to them. later in the day the enemy attacked the camp from all sides but the little army repulsed the onslaught and killed and wounded more than a thousand british soldiers. when the sabbath sun descended and the four thousand boers sang their psalms and hymns of thanksgiving there was probably only one man who believed that the burghers would ever be able to escape from the forces which surrounded them, and that man was general cronje. he realised the gravity of the situation, but he was as calm as if he had been victorious in a battle. he talked cheerily with his men, saying, "let the english come on," and when they heard their old commander speak in such a confident manner they determined to fight until he himself announced a victory or a defeat. on monday morning it seemed as if the very blades of grass for miles around the boer laager were belching shot and shell over the dongas and trenches where the burghers had sought shelter. lyddite shells and shrapnel burst over and around them; the bullets of rifles and machine-guns swept close to their heads, and a few yards distant from them were the heavy explosions of ammunition-waggons set on fire by the enemy's shells. burghers, horses and cattle fell under the storm of lead and iron, and the mingled life-blood of man and beast flowed in rivulets to join the waters of the river. the wounded lay groaning in the trenches; the dead unburied outside, and the cannonading was so terrific that no one was able to leave the trenches and dongas sufficiently long to give a drink of water to a wounded companion. there was no medicine in the camp, all the physicians were held in jacobsdal by the enemy, and the condition of the dead and dying was such that cronje was compelled to ask for an armistice. the reply from the british commander was "fight or surrender," and cronje chose to continue the fight. the bombardment of the laager was resumed with increased vigour, and there was not a second's respite from shells and bullets until after night descended, when the burghers were enabled to emerge from their trenches and holes to exercise their limbs and to secure food. the boers' cannon became defective on tuesday morning, and thereafter they could reply to the continued bombardment with only their rifles. hope rose in their breasts during the day when a heliograph message was received from commandant froneman; "i am here with generals de wet and cronje," the message read; "have good cheer. i am waiting for reinforcements. tell the burghers to find courage in psalm xxvii." the fact that reinforcements were near, even though the enemy was between, imbued the burghers with renewed faith in their ability to defeat the enemy and, when a concerted attack was made against the laager in the afternoon, a gallant resistance followed. on wednesday morning the british batteries again poured their shells on the miserable and exhausted boers. shortly before midday there was a lull in the storm, and the beleaguered burghers could hear the reports of the battle between the relieving force and the british troops. the sounds of the fight grew fainter and fainter, then subsided altogether. the bombardment of the laager was renewed, and the burghers realised that froneman had been beaten back by the enemy. the disappointment was so great that one hundred and fifty boers bade farewell to their general, and laid down their arms to their enemy. the following day was merely the repetition of the routine of former days, with the exception that the condition of the men and the laager was hourly becoming more miserable. the wounded clamouring for relief was in itself a misery to those who were compelled to hear it, but to allow such appeals to go unanswered was heartrending. to have the dead unburied seemed cruel enough, but to have the corpses before one's eyes day after day was torture. to know that the enemy was in ten times greater strength was disheartening, but to realise that there was no relief at hand was enough to dim the brightest courage. yet cronje was undaunted. friday and saturday brought nothing but a message from froneman, again encouraging them to resist until reinforcements could be brought from bloemfontein. on saturday evening jan theron, of krugersdorp, succeeded in breaking through the british lines with despatches from general de wet and commandants cronje and froneman, urging general cronje to fight a way through the lines whilst they would engage the enemy from their side. cronje and his officers decided to make an attempt to escape, and on sunday morning the burghers commenced the construction of a chain-bridge across the modder to facilitate the crossing of the swollen river. fortunately for the boers the british batteries fired only one shot into the camp that day, and the burghers were able to complete the bridge before night by means of the ropes and chains from their ox-waggons. on monday morning the british guns made a target of the bridge, and shelled it so unremittingly that no one was able to approach it, much less make an attempt to cross the river by means of it. the bombardment seemed to grow in intensity as the day progressed, and when two shells fell into a group of nine burghers, and left nothing but an arm and a leg to be found, the krijgsraad decided to hoist a white flag on tuesday morning. general cronje and commandant schutte were the only officers who voted against surrendering. they begged the other officers to reconsider their decision, and to make an attempt to fight a way out, but the confidence of two men was too weak to change the opinions of the others. in a position covering less than a square mile of territory, hemmed in on all sides by an army almost as great as that which defeated napoleon at waterloo, surrounded by a chain of fire from carbines, rapid-fire guns and heavy cannon, the target of thousands of the vaporous lyddite shells, his trenches enfiladed by a continuous shower of lead, his men half dead from lack of food, and stiff from the effect of their narrow quarters in the trenches, general cronje chose to fight and to risk complete disaster by leading his four thousand men against the forty thousand of the enemy. the will of the majority prevailed, and on february th, the anniversary of majuba hill, after ten days of fighting, the white flag was hoisted above the dilapidated laager. the bodies of ninety-seven burghers lay over the scene of the disaster, and two hundred and forty-five wounded men were left behind when general cronje and his three thousand six hundred and seventy-nine burghers and women limped out of the river-bed and surrendered to field-marshal lord roberts. in many respects general cronje was the boers' most brilliant leader, but he was responsible for many serious and costly reverses. at magersfontein he defeated the enemy fairly, and he might have reaped the fruits of his victory if he had followed up the advantage there gained. instead, he allowed his army to remain inactive for two months while the british established a camp and base at the river. general french's march to kimberley might readily have been prevented or delayed if cronje had placed a few thousand of his men on the low range of kopjes commanding french's route, but during the two days which were so fateful to him and his army general cronje never stirred from his laager. at magersfontein cronje allowed thirty-six cannon, deserted by the british, to remain on several kopjes all of one night and until ten o'clock next morning, when they were taken away by the enemy. when he was asked why he did not send his men to secure the guns cronje replied, "god has been so good to us that i did not have the heart to send my overworked men to fetch them." cronje was absolutely fearless, and in all the battles in which he took part he was always in the most exposed positions. he rarely used a rifle, as one of his eyes was affected, but the short, stoop-shouldered, grey-bearded man, with the long riding-whip, was always in the thick of a fight, encouraging his men and pointing out the positions for attack. he was a fatalist when in battle, if not in times of peace, and it is told of him that at modder river he was warned by one of the burghers to seek a less exposed position. "if god has ordained me to be shot to-day," the grim old warrior replied, "i shall be shot, whether i sit here or in a well." cronje was one of the strictest leaders in the boer army, and that feature made him unpopular with the men who constantly applied to him for leaves-of-absence to return to their homes. they fought for him in the trenches at paardeberg not because they loved him, but because they respected him as an able leader. he did not have the affection of his burghers like botha, meyer, de wet, or de la rey, but he held his men together by force of his superior military attainments--a sort of overawing authority which they could not disobey. personally, cronje was not an extraordinary character. he was urbane in manner and a pleasant conversationalist. like the majority of the boers he was deeply religious, and tried to introduce the precepts of his religion into his daily life. although he was sixty-five years old when the war began he had the energy and spirit of a much younger man, and the terrors and anxieties of the ten days' siege at paardeberg left but little marks on the face which has been described as christlike. his patriotism was unbounded, and he held the independence of his country above everything. "independence with peace, if possible, but independence at all costs," he was wont to say, and no one fought harder than he, to attain that end. when the vryheid commandos rode over the western border of their district and invaded natal, louis botha, the successor of commandant-general joubert, was one of the many volksraad members who went forth to war in the ranks of the common burghers. after the battle of dundee, in which he distinguished himself by several daring deeds, botha became assistant-general to his lifelong friend and neighbour general lucas meyer. several weeks later, when general meyer fell ill, he gave his command to his compatriot, general botha, and a short time afterward, when commandant-general joubert was incapacitated by illness, botha was appointed to assume the responsibilities of the commander-in-chief. when joubert was on his deathbed he requested that botha should be his successor, and in that manner louis botha, burgher, became louis botha, commandant-general, in less than six months. it was remarkable, this chain of fortuitous circumstances which led to botha's rapid advancement, but it was not entirely due to extraneous causes, for he was deserving of every step of his promotion. there is a man for every crisis, but rarely in history is found a record of a soldier who rose from the ranks to commander-in-chief of an army in one campaign. it was meyer's misfortune when he became ill at a grave period of the war, but it was the country's good fortune to have a botha ready at hand to fight a colenso and a spion kop. when the burgher army along the tugela was hard pressed by the enemy and both its old-time leaders, joubert and meyer, lay ill at the same time, it seemed little less than providential that a botha should step out of the ranks and lead the men with as much discretion and valour as could have been expected from the experienced generals whose work he undertook to accomplish. it was a modern representation of the ploughman deserting his farm in order to lead in the salvation of rome. thirty-five years before he was called upon to be commandant-general of the army of his nation louis botha was born near the same spot where he was chosen for that office, and on the soil of the empire against whose forces he was pitting his strength and ability. in his youth he was wont to listen to the narratives of the battles in which his father and grandfather fought side by side against the hordes of natives who periodically dyed the waters of the tugela crimson with the blood of massacred men and women. in early manhood botha fought against the zulus and assisted lucas meyer in establishing the new republic, which afterward became his permanent home. popularity, ability, and honesty brought him into the councils of the nation as a member of the first volksraad, where he wielded great influence by reason of his conscientious devotion to duty and his deep interest in the welfare of his country. when public affairs did not require his presence in pretoria, botha was with his family on his farm in vryheid, and there he found the only happiness which he considered worth having. the joys of a pastoral existence combined with the devotion and love of his family were the keystone of botha's happiness, and no man had a finer realisation of his ambitions in that respect than he. botha was a warrior, no doubt, but primarily he was a man who loved the peacefulness of a farm, the pleasures of a happy home-life, and the laughter of his four children more than the tramp of victorious troops or the roar of cannon. there are a few men who have a certain magnetic power which attracts and holds the admiration of others. louis botha was a man of this class. strangers who saw him for the first time loved him. there was an indescribable something about him which caused men looking at him for the first time to pledge their friendship for all time. the light in his blue eyes seemed to mesmerise men, to draw them, willing or unwilling, to him. it was not the quality which gained friends for kruger nor that which made joubert popular, but rather a mysterious, involuntary influence which he exerted over everybody with whom he came in contact. a man less handsome, of less commanding appearance than botha might have possessed such a power, and been considered less extraordinary than he, but it was not wholly his personal appearance--for he was the handsomest man in the boer army--which aroused the admiration of men. his voice, his eyes, his facial expression and his manner--all combined to strengthen the man's power over others. it may have been personal magnetism or a mysterious charm which he possessed--but it was the mark of a great man. the early part of botha's career as a general was fraught with many difficulties, the majority of which could be traced to his lack of years. the boer mind could not grasp the fact that a man of thirty-five years could be a military leader, and for a long time the boers treated the young commander with a certain amount of contempt. the old takhaars laughed at him when he asked them to perform any duties, and called him a boy. they were unable to understand for a long time why they should act upon the advice or orders of a man many years younger than they themselves, and it was not until botha had fought colenso and spion kop that the old burghers commenced to realise that ability was not always monopolised by men with hoary beards. before they had these manifestations of botha's military genius hundreds of the burghers absolutely refused to obey his commands, and even went to the length of protesting to the government against his continued tenure of the important post. the younger boers, however, were quicker to discern the worth of the man, and almost without exception gave him their united support. there was one instance when a young boer questioned botha's authority, but the burgher's mind was quickly disabused, and thereafter he was one of the commandant-general's staunchest supporters. it was at the battle of pont drift, when general botha was busily engaged in directing the movements of his men and had little time to argue fine points of authority. the general asked two young boers to carry ammunition to the top of a kopje which was being hard-shelled by the enemy. one of the boers was willing immediately to obey the general, but the other man refused to undertake the hazardous journey. the general spoke kindly to the boer, and acknowledged that he would be risking his life by ascending the hill, but insisted that he should go. the boer finally declared he would not go, and added that botha was too young to give orders to men. the commandant-general did not lose his temper, but it did not require much time for him to decide that a rebuke of some sort was necessary, so he knocked the man to the ground with his fist. it was a good, solid blow, and the young boer did not move for a minute, but when he rose he had fully decided that he would gladly carry the ammunition to the top of the kopje. after general botha demonstrated that he was a capable military leader he became the idol of all the boers. his popularity was second only to that of president kruger, and the hero-worshippers arranged for all sorts of honours to be accorded to him after the war. he was to be made president, first of all things; then his birthday anniversary was to be made the occasion of a national holiday; statues were to be erected for him, and nothing was to be left undone in order that his services to his country might be given the appreciation they deserved. the stoical boers were never known to worship a man so idolatrously as they did in this case, and it was all the more noteworthy on account of the adverse criticism which was bestowed upon him several months before. general botha's reputation as a gallant and efficient leader was gained during the campaign in natal, but it was not until after the relief of ladysmith that his real hard work began. after the advance of lord roberts's large army from bloemfontein was begun myriads of new duties devolved upon the commandant-general, and thereafter he displayed a skill and ingenuity in dealing with grave situations which was marvellous, when it is taken into consideration that he was opposing a victorious army with a mere handful of disappointed and gloomy burghers. the situation would have been grave enough if he had had a trained and disciplined army under his command, but in addition to making plans for opposing the enemy's advance, general botha was compelled to gather together the burghers with whom he desired to make the resistance. his work would have been comparatively easy if he could have remained at the spot where his presence was most necessary, but it was absolutely impossible for him to lead the defensive movements in the free state without men, and in order to secure them he was obliged to desert that important post and go to the biggarsberg, where many burghers were idle. telegraph wires stretched from the free state to natal, but a command sent by such a route never caused a burgher to move an inch nearer to the free state front, and consequently the commandant-general was compelled to go personally to the biggarsberg in search of volunteers to assist the burghers south of kroonstad. when general botha arrived in natal in the first days of may he asked the standerton commando to return with him to the free state. they flatly refused to go unless they were first allowed to spend a week at their homes, but botha finally, after much begging, cajoling, and threatening, induced the burghers to go immediately. the commandant-general saw the men board a train, and then sped joyously northward toward pretoria and the free state in a special train. when he reached pretoria botha learned that the standerton commando followed him as far as standerton station, and then dispersed to their homes. his dismay was great; but he was not discouraged, and several hours later he was at standerton, riding from farm to farm to gather the men. this work delayed his arrival in the free state two days, but he secured the entire commando, and went with it to the front, where it served him valiantly. the masterly retreat of the boer forces northward along the railway and across the vaal river, and the many skirmishes and battles with which botha harassed the enemy's advance, were mere incidents in the commandant-general's work of those trying days. there were innumerable instances not unlike that in connection with the standerton commando, and, in addition, there was the planning to prevent the large commandos in the western part of the transvaal, and meyer's large force in the south-eastern part, from being cut off from his own body of burghers. it was a period of grave moment and responsibilities, but botha was the man for the occasion. although the british succeeded in entering pretoria, the capital of the country, the boers lost little in prestige or men, and botha and his burghers were as confident of the final success of their cause as they were when they crossed the natal border seven months before. even after all the successive defeats of his army, commandant-general botha continued to say, "we will fight--fight until not a single british soldier remains on south african soil." a general who can express such a firm faith in his cause when he sees nothing but disaster surrounding him is great even if he is not always victorious. the military godfather of commandant-general botha was general lucas meyer, one of the best leaders in the boer army. the work of the two men was cast in almost the same lines during the greater part of the campaign, and many of the commandant-general's burdens were shared by his old-time tutor and neighbour in the vryheid district. botha seldom undertook a project unless he first consulted with meyer, and the two constantly worked hand-in-hand. their friends frequently referred to them as damon and pythias, and the parallel was most appropriate, for they were as nearly the counterparts of those old grecian warriors as modern limitations would allow. botha attained the post of commandant-general through the illness of meyer, who would undoubtedly have been joubert's successor if he had not fallen ill at an important period of the campaign, but the fact that the pupil became the superior officer of the instructor never strained the amicable relations of the two men. general meyer received his fundamental military education from the famous zulu chieftain, dinizulu, in , when he and eight hundred other boers assisted the natives in a war against the chieftains of other tribes. in a battle at labombo mountain, june th of that year, meyer and dinizulu vanquished the enemy, and as payment for their services the boers each received a large farm in the district now known as vryheid. a government named the new republic was organised by the farmers, and meyer was elected president, a post which he held for four years, when the transvaal annexed the republic to its own territory. in the war of meyer took part in several battles, and at ingogo he was struck on the head by a piece of shell, which caused him to be unconscious for forty-two days. in the later days of the republic general meyer held various military and civil positions in the vryheid district, where his large farm, "anhouwen," is located, and was the chairman of the volksraad which decided to send the ultimatum to great britain. when war was actually declared, general meyer, with his commandos, was on the transvaal border near his farm, and he opened hostilities by making a bold dash into natal and attacking the british army encamped at dundee. the battle was carefully planned by meyer, and it would undoubtedly have ended with the capture of the entire british force if general erasmus, who was to co-operate with him, had fulfilled the part assigned to him. although many british soldiers were killed and captured, and great stores of ammunition and equipment taken, the forces under general yule were allowed to escape to the south. general meyer followed the fleeing enemy as rapidly as the muddy roads could be traversed, and engaged them at modderspruit. there he gained a decisive victory, and compelled the survivors to enter ladysmith, where they were immediately besieged. meyer was extremely ill before the battle began, but he insisted upon directing his men, and continued to do so until the field was won, when he fell from his horse, and was seriously ill for a month. he returned to the front, against the advice of his physicians, on december th, and took part in the fighting at pont drift, boschrand, and in the thirteen days' battle around pieter's hill. in the battle of pont drift a bullet struck the general's field-glasses, flattened itself, and dropped into one of his coat pockets, to make a souvenir brooch for mrs. meyer, who frequently visited him when no important movements were in progress. when general joubert and his krijgsraad determined to retreat from the tugela and allow ladysmith to be relieved, general meyer was one of those who protested against such a course, and when the decision was made meyer returned to the tugela, and remained there with his friend louis botha during the long and heroic fight against general buller's column. meyer and botha were among the last persons to leave the positions which they had defended so long, and on their journey northward the two generals decided to return and renew the fight as soon as they could reach modderspruit and secure food for their men and horses. when they arrived at modderspruit they found that joubert and his entire army had fled northward, and had carried with them every ounce of food. it was a bitter disappointment to the two generals, but there was nothing to be done except to travel in the direction of the scent of food, and the journey led the dejected, disappointed, starved generals and burghers north over the biggarsberg mountains, where provisions could be secured. during the long period in march and april when neither boers nor british seemed to be doing anything, general meyer arranged a magnificent series of entrenchments in the biggarsberg mountains which made an advance of the enemy practically impossible. foreign military experts pronounced the defence impregnable and expressed the greatest astonishment when they learned that meyer formulated the plans of the entrenchments without ever having read a book on the subject or without having had the benefit of any instruction. the entrenchments began at a point a few miles east of the british outposts and continued for miles and miles north-east and north-west to the very apex of the biggarsberg. spruits and rivers were connected by means of trenches so that a large boer force could travel many miles without being observed by the enemy, and the series of entrenchments was fashioned in such a manner that the boers could retreat to the highest point of the mountains and remain meanwhile in perfect concealment. near the top of the mountain long schanzes or walls were built to offer a place of security for the burghers, while on the top were miles of walls to attract and to inveigle the enemy to approach the lower wall more closely. the plan was magnificent, but the british forces evaded the biggarsberg in their advance movements, and the entrenchments were never bathed in human blood. [illustration: commandant-general christian h. de wet] when the boers in the free state were unable to stem the advance of the british, general meyer was compelled to retreat northward to ensure his own safety, but he did it so slowly and systematically that he lost only a few men and was able, now and then, to make bold dashes at the enemy's flying columns with remarkable success. the retreat northward through the transvaal was fraught with many harassments, but general meyer joined forces with general botha east of pretoria and thereafter the teacher and pupil again fought hand in hand in a common cause. the free state was not as prolific of generals as the transvaal, but in christian de wet she had one of the ablest as well as one of the most fearless leaders in the republican ranks. before he was enlisted to fight for his country de wet was a farmer, who had a penchant for dealing in potatoes, and his only military training was secured when he was one of the sixty boer volunteers who ascended the slopes of majuba hill in . there was nothing of the military in his appearance; in fact, christian de wet, commandant-general of the orange free state in , was not a whit unlike christian de wet, butcher of barberton of , and men who knew him in the gold-rush days of that mining town declared that he was more martial in appearance then as a licensed slayer of oxen than later as a licensed slayer of men. he himself prided himself on his unmilitary exterior, and it was not a little source of satisfaction to him to say that his fighting regalia was the same suit of clothing which he wore on his farm on the day that he left it to fight as a soldier in his country's army. before the war, de wet's chief claim to notoriety lay in the fact that he attempted to purchase the entire supply of potatoes in south africa for the purpose of effecting a "corner" of that product on the johannesburg market. unfortunately for himself, he held his potatoes until the new crop was harvested, and he became a bankrupt in consequence. later he appeared as a potato farmer near kroonstad, and still later, at nicholson's nek in natal, he captured twelve hundred british prisoners and, incidentally, a large stock of british potatoes, which seemed to please him almost as greatly as the human captives. although the vegetable strain was frequently predominant in de wet's constitution, he was not over-zealous to return to his former pastoral pursuits, and continued to lead his commandos over the hills of the eastern free state long after that territory was christened the orange river colony. [illustration: general peter de wet] general de wet was at the head of a number of the free state commandos which crossed into natal at the outbreak of the war, and he took part in several of the battles around ladysmith; but his services were soon required in the vicinity of kimberley, and there he made an heroic effort to effect a junction with the besieged cronje. it was not until after the british occupation of bloemfontein that de wet really began his brilliant career as a daring commander, but thereafter he was continually harassing the enemy. he led with three big battles in one week, with a total result of a thousand prisoners of war, seven cannon, and almost half a million pounds' worth of supplies. at sannaspost, on march st, he swept down upon colonel broadwood's column and captured one-fourth of the men and all their vast supplies almost before the british officer was aware of the presence of the enemy. the echoes of that battle had hardly subsided when he fell upon another british column at moester's hoek with results almost as great as at sannaspost, and two days later he was besieging a third british column in his own native heath of wepener. column after column was sent to drive him away, but he clung fast to his prey for almost two weeks, when he eluded the great force on his capture bent, and moved northward to take an active part in opposing the advance of lord roberts. he led his small force of burghers as far as the northern border of the free state, while the enemy advanced, and then turned eastward, carrying president steyn and the capital of the republic with him to places of safety. whenever there was an opportunity he sent small detachments to attack the british lines of communications and harassed the enemy continually. in almost all his operations the commandant-general was assisted by his brother, general peter de wet, who was none the less daring in his operations. christian de wet was responsible for more british losses than any of the other generals. in his operations in natal and the free state he captured more than three thousand prisoners, thousands of cattle and horses, and stores and ammunition valued at more than a million pounds. the number of british soldiers killed and wounded in battles with de wet is a matter for conjecture, but it is not limited by the one thousand mark. [illustration: general john de la rey] general john de la rey, who operated in the free state with considerable success, was one of the most enthusiastic leaders in the army, and his confidence in the boers' fighting ability was not less than his faith in the eventual success of their arms. de la rey was born on british soil, but he had a supreme contempt for the british soldier, and frequently asserted that one burgher was able to defeat ten soldiers at any time or place. he was the only one of the generals who was unable to speak the english language, but he understood it well enough to capture a spy whom he overheard in a free state hotel. de la rey was a transvaal general, and when the retreat from bloemfontein was made he harassed the enemy greatly, but was finally compelled to cross the vaal into his own country, where he continued to fight under commandant-general botha. among the other boer generals who took active part in the campaign in other parts of the republics were j. du p. de beer, a raad member, who defended the northern border of the transvaal; sarel du toit, whose defence at fourteen streams was admirably conducted; snyman, the old marico farmer, who besieged mafeking; hendrik schoeman, who operated in cape colony; jan kock, killed at the elandslaagte battle early in the campaign; and the three generals, lemmer, grobler, and olivier, whose greatest success was their retreat from cape colony. the boer generals and officers, almost without exception, were admirable men, personally. some of them were rough, hardy men, who would have felt ill at ease in a drawing-room, but they had much of the milk of human kindness in them, and there was none who loved to see or partake of bloodshed. there may have been instances when white or red cross flags were fired upon, but when such a breach of the rules of war occurred it was not intentional. the foreigners who accompanied the various boer armies--the correspondents, military attachés, and the volunteers--will testify that the officers, from commandant-general botha down to the corporals, were always zealous in their endeavours to conduct an honourable warfare, and that the farmer-generals were as gentlemanly as they were valorous. chapter viii the war presidents the real leader of the boers of the two republics was paul kruger, their man of peace. his opinions on the momentous questions that agitated the country and his long political supremacy caused him many and bitter enemies, but the war healed all animosities and he was the one man in the republics who had the respect, love, and admiration of all the burghers. wherever one might be, whether in the houses on the veld or in the battlefield's trenches, every one spoke of "oom paul" in a manner which indicated that he was the boer of all boers. there was not one burgher who would not declare that kruger was a greater man than he was before he despatched his famous ultimatum to great britain. his old-time friends supported him even more faithfully than before hostilities began, and his political energies of other days became the might of his right arm. those who opposed him most bitterly and unremittingly when it was a campaign between the progressive and conservative parties were most eager to listen to his counsels and to stand by his side when their country's hour of darkness had arrived. not a word of censure for him was heard anywhere; on the contrary, every one praised him for opposing great britain so firmly, and prayed that his life might be spared until their dream of absolute independence was realised. sir charles dilke once related a conversation he had with bismarck concerning paul kruger. "cavour was much smarter, more clever, more diplomatically gifted than i," said the prince, "but there is a much stronger, much abler man than cavour or i, and that man is president kruger. he has no gigantic army behind him, no great empire to support him. he stands alone with a small peasant people, and is a match for us by mere force of genius. i spoke to him--he drove me into a corner." kruger's great ability, as delineated by bismarck, was indisputable, and a man with less of it might have been president and might have avoided the war, but only at a loss to national interests. the president had one aim and one goal, his country's independence, and all the force of his genius was directed toward the attainment of that end. he tried to secure his country's total independence by peaceable means, but he had planted the seed of that desire so deeply in the minds of his countrymen that when it sprouted they overwhelmed him and he was driven into war against his will. kruger would not have displaced diplomacy with the sword, but his burghers felt that peaceful methods of securing their independence were of no avail, and he was powerless to resist their wishes. he did not lead the boers into war; they insisted that only war would give to them the relief they desired, and he followed under their leadership. when the meetings of the volksraad immediately preceding the war were held, it was not paul kruger who called for war; it was the representatives of the burghers, who had been instructed by their constituents to act in such a manner. when the president saw that his people had determined to have war, he was leader enough to make plans which might bring the conflict to a successful conclusion, and he chose a moment for making a declaration that he considered opportune. the ultimatum was decided upon eleven days before it was actually despatched, but it was delayed eight days on account of the free state's unpreparedness. kruger realised the importance of striking the first blow at an enemy which was not prepared to resist it, and the free state's tardiness at such a grave crisis was decidedly unpleasant to him. then, when the free state was ready to mobilise, the president secured another delay of three days in order that diplomacy might have one more chance. his genius had not enabled him to realise the dream of his life without a recourse to war, and when the ultimatum was delivered into the hands of the british the old man wept. [illustration: president kruger addressing american volunteers] when the multitudinous executive duties to which he attended in peaceful times were suddenly ended by the declaration, the president busied himself with matters pertaining to the conduct of the war. he worked as hard as any man in the country, despite his age, and on many occasions he displayed the energy of a man many years younger. the war caused his daily routine of work and rest to be changed completely. he continued to rise at four o'clock in the morning, a habit which he contracted in early youth and followed ever after. after his morning devotions he listened to the reading of the despatches from the generals at the front, and dictated replies in the shape of suggestions, censure, or praise. he slept for an hour after breakfast, and then went to the government buildings, arriving there punctually every morning as the clock on the dome struck nine. he remained in consultation with the other members of the executive council and the few government officials, who had remained in the city, for an hour or more. after luncheon he again worked over despatches, received burghers on leave of absence from the front and foreigners who sympathised with his people's cause. he never allowed himself to be idle, and, in fact, there was no opportunity for him to be unemployed, inasmuch as almost all the leading government officials were at the front, while many of their duties remained behind to be attended to by some one. kruger himself supervised the work of all the departments whose heads were absent, and the labour was great. his capacity for hard labour was never better demonstrated than during the war, when he bore the weight of his own duties and those of other government officials, as well as the work of guiding the boer emissaries in foreign countries. added to all these grave responsibilities, when the reverses of the army grew more serious, was the great worry and the constant dread of new disasters which beset a man who occupies a position such as he occupied. no man had greater influence over the boers than kruger, and his counsel was always sought and his advice generally followed. when the first commandos went to the front it was considered almost absolutely necessary for them to stop at pretoria and see "oom paul" before going to battle, and it seemed to affect the old man strangely when he addressed them and bade them god-speed in the accomplishment of their task. it was in the midst of one of these addresses that the president, while standing in the centre of a group of burghers, broke down and wept as he referred to the many men who would lose their lives in the war. when the boer army was having its greatest successes kruger constantly sent messages to his burghers, thanking them for their good work, and reminding them not to neglect thanking their god for his favours. one of the most characteristic messages of this nature was sent to the generals, commandants, officers, and burghers on january th, and was a most unique ebullition to come from a president of a republic. the message was composed by himself, and, as literally translated, read:-- "for your own and the war-officers' information, i wish to state that, through the blessing of our lord, our great cause has at present been carried to such a point that, by dint of great energy, we may expect to bring it to a successful issue on our behalf. "in order that such an end be attained, it is, however, strictly necessary that all energy be used, that all burghers able to do active service go forward to the battlefield, and that those who are on furlough claim no undue extension thereof, but return as soon as possible, every one to the place where his war-officers may be stationed. "brothers! i pray you to act herein with all possible promptitude and zeal, and to keep your eyes fixed on that providence who has miraculously led our people through the whole of south africa. read psalm , from verse to the end. "the enemy have fixed their faith in psalm , where it is said that this people shall not exist and its name must be annihilated; but the lord says: 'it shall exist' read also psalm , the th and th verses, where the lord saith that the children of christ, if they depart from his words, shall be chastised with bitter reverses, but his favour and goodness shall have no end and never fail. what he has said remains strong and firm. for, see, the lord purifieth his children, even unto gold, proven by fire. "i need not draw your attention to all the destructiveness of the enemy's works, for you know it, and i again point to the attack of the devil on christ and his church. this has been the attack from the beginning, and god will not countenance the destruction of his church. you know that our cause is a just one, and there cannot be any doubt, for it is with the contents of just this psalm that they commenced with us in their wickedness, and i am still searching the entire bible, and find no other way which can be followed than that which has been followed by us, and we must continue to fight in the name of the lord. "please notify all the officers of war and the entire public of your district of the contents of this telegram, and imbue them with a full earnestness of the cause." when the president learned that commandant-general joubert had determined to retreat from the neighbourhood of ladysmith he sent a long telegram to his old friend, imploring him not to take such a step, and entreating him to retain his forces at the tugela. the old general led his forces northward to glencoe, notwithstanding the president's protest, and a day afterward kruger arrived on the scene. the president was warrior enough to know that a great mistake had been made, and he did not hesitate to show his displeasure. he and joubert had had many disagreements in their long experiences with one another, but those who were present in the general's tent at that glencoe interview said that they had never seen the president so angry. when he had finished giving his opinion of the general's action the president shook joubert's hand, and thereafter they discussed matters calmly and as if there had been no quarrel. to the other men who were partly responsible for the retreat he showed his resentment of their actions by declining to shake hands with them, a method of showing disapprobation that is most cutting to the boers. "if i were five years younger, or if my eyesight were better," he growled at the recalcitrants, "i would take a rifle and bandolier and show you what we old boers were accustomed to do. we had courage; you seem to have none." after the president had encouraged the officers, and had secured their promises to continue the resistance against their enemy he wandered about in the laagers, shaking hands with and infusing new spirit into the burghers who had flocked together to see their revered leader. when several thousand of the boers had gathered around him and were trying to have a word with him the president bared his head and asked his friends to join him in prayer. instantly every head was bared, and kruger's voice spread out over the vast concourse in a grand appeal to the god of battles to grant his blessing to the burgher army. the grey-haired old man was conspicuous in a small circle which was formed by the burghers withdrawing several paces when he began the prayer. on all sides there spread out a mass of black-garbed, battle-begrimed boers with eyes turned to the ground. here and there a white tent raised its head above the assemblage; at other points men stood on waggons and cannon. farther on, burghers dismounted from their horses and joined the crowd. in the distance were talana hill, where the first battle of the campaign was fought; the lofty drakensberg where more than fifty years before the early boer voortrekkers had their first glimpses of fair natal, while to the south were the hills of ladysmith of sombre history. there in the midst of bloody battlefields, and among several thousand men who sought the blood of the enemy, kruger, the man of peace, implored almighty god to give strength to his burghers. it was a magnificent spectacle. he had been at glencoe only a short time when the news reached him that the burghers in the free state had lost their courage, and were retreating rapidly towards bloemfontein. he abbreviated his visit, hastened to the free state, and met the fleeing boers at poplar grove. he exhorted them to make a stand against the enemy, and, by his magnetic power over them, succeeded in inducing the majority to remain and oppose the british advance. his own fearlessness encouraged them, and when they saw their old leader standing in the midst of shell fire as immobile as if he were watching a holiday parade, they had not the heart to run. while he was watching the battle a shell fell within a short distance of where he stood, and all his companions fled from the spot. he walked slowly away, and when the men returned to him he chided them, and made a witty remark concerning the shell, naming it one of "the queen's pills." while the battle continued, kruger followed one of the commandos and urged the men to fight. at one stage of the battle the commando which he was following was in imminent danger of being cut off and captured by the british forces, but the burghers fought valiantly before their president, and finally conveyed him to a place of safety, although the path was shell and bullet swept. he returned to bloemfontein, and in conjunction with president steyn, addressed an appeal to lord salisbury to end the war. they asked that the republics should be allowed to retain their independence, and firmly believed that the appeal would end hostilities, inasmuch as the honours of war were then about equally divided between the two armies. to those who watched the proceedings it seemed ridiculous to ask for a cessation of hostilities at that time, but kruger sincerely believed that his appeal would not be in vain, and he was greatly surprised, but not discomfited, when a distinct refusal was received in reply. several weeks after the memorable trip to the free state, president kruger made another journey to the sister-republic, and met president steyn and all the boer generals at the famous krijgsraad at kroonstad. no one who heard the president when he addressed the burghers who gathered there to see him, will ever forget the intensity of kruger's patriotism. kroonstad, then the temporary capital of the free state, was not favoured with any large public hall where a meeting might be held, so a small butcher's stand in the market-square was chosen for the site of the meeting. after president steyn, commandant-general joubert, and several other leading boers had addressed the large crowd of burghers standing in the rain outside the tradesman's pavilion, kruger stepped on one of the long tables, and exhorted the burghers to renewed efforts, to fight for freedom and not to be disconsolate because bloemfontein had fallen into the hands of the enemy. when the president concluded his address the burghers raised a great cheer, and then returned to their laagers with their minds filled with a new spirit, and with renewed determination to oppose the enemy--a determination which displayed itself later in the fighting at sannaspost, moester's hoek, and wepener. kruger found the burghers in the free state in the depths of despair; when he departed they were as confident of ultimate victory as they were on the day war was begun. the old man had the faculty of leading men as it is rarely found. in times of peace he led men by force of argument as much as by reason of personal magnetism. in war-time he led men by mere words sent over telegraph wires, by his presence at the front, and by his display of manly dignity, firm resolution and devotion to his country. he was like the kings and rulers of ancient times, who led their cohorts into battle, and wielded the sword when there was a necessity for such action. during the war president kruger suffered many disappointments, endured many griefs, and withstood many trials and tribulations; but none affected him so deeply as the death of his intimate friend, commandant-general joubert. kruger and joubert were the two leading men of the country for many years. they were among those who assisted in the settlement of the transvaal and in the many wars which were coincident with it. they had indelibly inscribed their names on the scroll of the south african history of a half-century, and in doing so they had become as intimate as two brothers. for more than two score years kruger had been considered the boers' leader in peaceful times, while joubert was the boers' warrior. the ambition of both was the independence of their country, and, while they differed radically on the methods by which it was to be attained, neither surpassed the other in strenuous efforts to secure it without a recourse to war. the death of joubert was as saddening to kruger, consequently, as the demise of his most dearly-beloved brother could have been, and in the funeral-oration which the president delivered over the bier of the general, he expressed that sense of sorrow most aptly. this oration, delivered upon an occasion when the country was mourning the death of a revered leader and struggling under the weight of recent defeats, was one of the most remarkable utterances ever made by a man at the head of a nation. "brothers, sisters, burghers, and friends," he began,--"only a few words can i say to you to-day, for the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. we have lost our brother, our friend, our commandant-general. i have lost my right hand, not of yesterday, but my right hand since we were boys together, many long years ago. to-night i alone seem to have been spared of the old people of our cherished land, of the men who lived and struggled together for our country. he has gone to heaven whilst fighting for liberty, which god has told us to defend; for the freedom for which he and i have struggled together for so many years, and so often, to maintain. brothers, what shall i say to you in this our greatest day of sorrow, in this hour of national gloom? the struggle we are engaged in is for the principles of justice and righteousness, which our lord has taught us is the broad road to heaven and blessedness. it is our sacred duty to keep on that path, if we desire a happy ending. our dear dead brother has gone on that road to his eternal life. what can i say of his personality? it is only a few short weeks ago that i saw him at the fighting front, humbly and modestly taking his share of the privations and the rough work of the campaign like the poorest burgher, a true general, a true christian--an example to his people. and he spoke to me then and even more recently; and, let me tell you, that the days are dark. we are suffering reverses on account of wickedness rampant in our land. no success will come, no blessings be given to our great cause unless you remove the bad elements from among us; and then you may look forward to attaining the crowning point, the reward of righteousness and noble demeanour. we have in our distinguished departed brother an example. chosen, as he was, by the nation, time after time, to his honourable position, he had their trust to such an extent that everything was left in his hands; and he did his work well. he died, as he has lived, in the path of duty and honour. let the world rage around us, let the enemy decry us, i say, follow his example. the lord will stand by you against the ruthless hand of the foe, and at the moment when he deems it right for interference peace will come once more. why is the sympathy of the whole world with us in this struggle for freedom? why are the strangers pouring in from europe to assist to the maintenance of our beloved flag, to aid us in the just defence of our independence? is it not god's hand? i feel it in my heart. i declare to you again, the end of our struggle will be satisfactory. our small nation exists by the aid of the almighty, and will continue to do so. the prophets say the closed books shall be opened, the dead shall arise, darkness be turned into light; nothing be concealed. every one will face god's judgment throne. you will listen to his voice, and your eyes shall be open for the truth of everything. think of the costly lives given by us for our cause, and you will rally to the fight for justice to the end. brothers, to the deeply bereaved widow of our commandant-general, to his family, to you all, i say trust more than ever in the almighty; go to him for condolence; think and be trustful in the thought that our brother's body has gone from amongst us to rise again in a beautiful and eternal home. let us follow his example. weep not, the lord will support you; the hour of all our relief is near; and let us pray that we may enter heaven, and be guided to eternity in the same way as he whom we mourn so deeply. amen." early in his life kruger formed an idea that the boers were under the direct control of providence, and it displeased him greatly to learn that many petty thefts were committed by some of the burghers at the front. in many of the speeches to the burghers he referred to the shortcomings of some of them, and tried to impress on their minds, that they could never expect the lord to took with favour on their cause if they did not mend their ways. he made a strong reference to those sins in the oration he delivered over joubert's body, and never neglected to tell the foreign volunteers that they had come into the country for fighting and not for looting. when an american corps of about fifty volunteers arrived in pretoria in april he requested that they should call at his residence before leaving for the front, and the men were greatly pleased to receive and accept the invitation. the president walked to the sidewalk in front of his house to receive the americans, and then addressed them in this characteristically blunt speech: "i am very glad you have come here to assist us. i want you to look after your horses and rifles. do not allow any one to steal them from you. do not steal anybody else's gun or horse. trust in god, and fight as hard as you can." undoubtedly one of the most pathetic incidents in kruger's life was his departure from pretoria when the british army was only a short distance south of that city. it was bitter enough to him to witness the conquest of the veld district, the farms and the plantations, but when the conquerors were about to possess the capital of the country which he himself had seen growing out of the barren veld into a beautiful city of brick and stone, it was indeed a grave epoch for an old man to pass through. it hurt him little to see johannesburg fall to the enemy, for that city was ever in his enemy's hands, but when pretoria, distinctly the boer city, was about to become british, perhaps for ever, the old man might have been expected to display signs of the great sorrow which he undoubtedly felt in his heart. at the threshold of such a great calamity to his cause it might have been anticipated that he would acknowledge defeat and ask for mercy from a magnanimous foe. it was not dreamt of that a man of almost four score years would desert his home and family, his farms and flocks, the result of a lifetime's labour, and endure the discomforts of the field merely because he believed in a cause which, it seemed, was about to be extinguished by force of arms. but adversity caused no changes in the president's demeanour. when he bade farewell to his good old wife--perhaps it was a final farewell--he cheered and comforted her, and when the weeping citizens and friends of many years gathered at his little cottage to bid him goodbye he chided them for their lack of faith in the cause, and encouraged them to believe that victory would crown the boers' efforts. seven months before, kruger stood on the verandah of his residence, and, doffing his hat to the first british prisoners that arrived in the city, asked his burghers not to rejoice unseemingly; in may the old man, about to flee before the enemy, inspired his people to take new courage, and ridiculed their ideas that all was lost. whether the boers were in the first flush of victory or in the depths of despair paul kruger was ever the same to them--patriot, adviser, encourager, leader, and friend. it was an easy matter to see the president when he was at his residence at pretoria, and he appeared to be deeply interested in learning the opinions of the many foreigners who arrived in his country. the little verandah of the executive mansion--a pompous name for the small, one-storey cottage--was the president's favourite resting and working place during the day. just as in the days of peace he sat there in a big armchair, discussing politics with groups of his countrymen, so while the war was in progress he was seated there pondering the grave subjects of the time. the countrymen who could always be observed with him at almost any time of the day were missing. they were at the front. occasionally two or three old boers could be seen chatting with him behind barnato's marble lions, but invariably they had bandoliers around their bodies and rifles across their knees. few of the old boers who knew the president intimately returned from the front on leaves-of-absence unless they called on him to explain to him the tide and progress of the war. according to his own declaration his health was as good as it ever was, although the war added many burdens to his life. although he was seventy-five years old he declared he was as sprightly as he was twenty years before, and he seemed to have the energy and vitality of a man of forty. the reports that his mind was affected were cruel hoaxes which had not the slightest foundation of fact. the only matter concerning which he worried was his eyesight, which had been growing weaker steadily for five years. that misfortune alone prevented him from accompanying his burghers to the front and sharing their burdens with them, and he frequently expressed his disappointment that he was unable to engage more actively in the defence of his country. when pretoria fell into british hands kruger again sacrificed his own interests for the welfare of his government and moved the capital into the fever-districts, the low-veld of the eastern part of the transvaal. the deadly fever which permeates the atmosphere of that territory seemed to have no more terrors for him than did the british bullets at poplar grove, and he chose to remain in that dangerous locality in order that he might be in constant communication with his burghers and the outside world rather than to go farther into the isolated interior where he would have assumed no such great risks to his health. mr. kruger was not a bitter enemy of the british nation, as might have been supposed. he was always an admirer of britons and british institutions, and the war did not cause him to alter his convictions. he despised only the men whom he charged with being responsible for the war, and he never thought to hide the identity of those men. he blamed mr. rhodes, primarily, for instigating the war, and held mr. chamberlain and sir alfred milner equally responsible for bringing it about. against these three men he was extremely bitter, and he took advantage of every opportunity for expressing his opinions of them and their work. in february he stated that the real reason of the war between the boers and the british was rhodes's desire for glory. "he wants to be known as the maker of the south african empire," he said, "and the empire is not complete so long as there are two republics in the centre of the country." whatever were the causes of the war, it is certain that president kruger did not make it in order to gain political supremacy in the country. the dutch of cape colony, president steyn of the free state, and secretary reitz of the transvaal, may have had visions of dutch supremacy, but president kruger had no such hopes. he invariably and strenuously denied that he had any aspirations other than the independence of his country, and all his words and works emphasised his statement to that effect. several days before commandant-general joubert died, that intimate friend of the president declared solemnly that kruger had never dreamt of expelling the british government from south africa and much less had made any agreement with the dutch in other parts of the country with a view to such a result. it was a difficult matter to find a transvaal boer or a boer from the northern part of the free state who cared whether the british or the dutch were paramount in south africa so long as the republics were left unharmed, but it was less difficult to meet cape colonists and boers from the southern part of the free state who desired that great britain's power in the country should be broken. if there was any real spirit against great britain it was born on british soil in cape colony and blown northward to where courage to fight was more abundant. its source certainly was not in the north, and more certainly not with paul kruger, the man of peace. president steyn, of the orange free state, occupied even a more responsible position than his friend president kruger, of the transvaal. at the beginning of hostilities, steyn found that hundreds of the british-born citizens of his state refused to fight with his army, and consequently he was obliged to join the transvaal with a much smaller force than he had reckoned upon. he was handicapped by the lack of generals of any experience, and he did not have a sufficient number of burghers to guard the borders of his own state. his government had made but few preparations for war, and there was a lack of guns, ammunition, and equipment. the mobilisation of his burghers was extremely difficult and required much more time than was anticipated, and everything seemed to be awry at a time when every detail should have been carefully planned and executed. as the responsible head of the government and the veritable head of the army steyn passed a crisis with a remarkable display of energy, ingenuity, and ability. after the army was in the field he gave his personal attention to the work of the departments whose heads were at the front and attended to many of the details of the commissariat work in bloemfontein. he frequently visited the burghers in the field and gave to them such encouragement as only the presence and praise of the leader of a nation can give to a people. in february he went to the republican lines at ladysmith and made an address in which he stated that sir alfred milner's declaration that the power of afrikanderism must be broken had caused the war. several days later he was with his burghers at kimberley, praising their valour and infusing them with renewed courage. a day or two afterward he was again in bloemfontein, arranging for the comfort of his men and caring for the wives and children who were left behind. his duties were increased a hundred-fold as the campaign progressed, and when the first reverses came he alone of the free staters was able to imbue the men with new zeal. after bloemfontein was captured by the british he transferred the capital to kroonstad, and there, with the assistance of president kruger, re-established the fighting spirit of the burgher army. he induced the skulking burghers to return to their compatriots at the front, and formed the plans for future resistance against the invading army. when lord roberts's hosts advanced from bloemfontein, president steyn again moved the capital and established it at heilbron. thereafter the capital was constantly transferred from one place to another, but through all those vicissitudes the president clung nobly to his people and country. chapter ix foreigners in the war in every war there are men who are not citizens of the country with whose army they are fighting, and the "soldier-of-fortune" is as much a recognised adjunct of modern armies as he was in the days of knight-errantry. in the american revolutionary war both the colonial and british forces were assisted by many foreigners, and in every great and small war since then the contending armies have had foreigners in their service. in the franco-prussian war there was a great number of foreigners, among them having been one of the british generals who took a leading part in the natal campaign. the brief græco-turkish war gave many foreign officers an opportunity of securing experience, while the spaniards in the hispano-american war had the assistance of a small number of european officers. even the filipinos have had the aid of a corps of foreigners, the leader of whom, however, deserted aguinaldo and joined the boer forces. there is a fascination in civilised warfare which attracts men of certain descriptions, and to them a well-fought battle is the highest form of exciting amusement. all the world is interested in warfare among human beings, and there are men who delight in fighting battles in order that their own and public interest may be gratified. it may suggest a morbid or bloodthirsty spirit, this love of warfare, but no spectacle is finer, more magnificent, than a hard-fought game in which human lives are staked against a strip of ground--a position. it is not hard to understand why many men should become fascinated with warfare and travel to the ends of the earth in order to take part in it, but a soldier of fortune needs to make no apologies. the boer army was augmented by many of these men who delighted in war for fighting's sake, but a larger number joined the forces because they believed the republics were fighting in a just cause. the boer was jealous of his own powers of generalship, and when large numbers of foreigners volunteered to lead their commandos the farmers gave a decidedly negative reply. scores of foreign officers arrived in the country shortly after the beginning of hostilities and, intent on securing fame and experience, asked to be placed in command, but no request of that kind was granted. the boers felt that their system of warfare was the perfect one, and they scoffed at the suggestion that european officers might teach them anything in the military line. every foreign officer was welcomed in pretoria and in the laagers, but he was asked to enlist as a private, or ordinary burgher. commissions in the boer army were not to be had for the asking, as was anticipated, and many of the foreign officers were deeply disappointed in consequence. the boers felt that the foreigners were unacquainted with the country, the burgher mode of warfare, and lacked adroitness with the rifle, and consequently refused to place lives and battles in the hands of incompetent men. there were a few foreigners in the service of the boers at the beginning of the war, but their number was so small as to have been without significance. several european officers had been employed by the governments of the republics to instruct young boers in artillery work---and their instruction was invaluable--but the oft-repeated assertion that every commando was in charge of a foreign officer was as ridiculous as that of the _cape times_ which stated that the british retired from spion kop because no water was found on its summit. the influx of foreigners into the country began simultaneously with the war, and it continued thereafter at the rate of about four hundred men a month. the volunteers, as they were called by the burghers, consisted of the professional soldier, the man in search of loot, the man who fights for love of justice, and the adventurer. the professional soldier was of much service to the burghers so long as he was content to remain under a boer leader, but as soon as he attempted to operate on his own responsibility he became not only an impediment to the boers, but also a positive danger. in the early stages of the war the few foreign legions that existed met with disaster at elandslaagte, and thereafter all the foreign volunteers were obliged to join a commando. after several months had passed the foreigners, eager to have responsible command, prevailed upon the generals to allow the formation of foreign legions to operate independently. the legion of france, the american scouts, the russian scouts, the german corps, and several other organisations were formed, and for a month after the investment of bloemfontein these legions alone enlivened the situation by their frolicsome reports of attacks on the enemy's outposts. during those weeks the entire british army must have been put to flight scores of times at the very least, if the reports of the foreign legions may be believed, and the british casualty list must have amounted to thrice the number of english soldiers in the country. the free-rein given to the foreign legionaries was withdrawn shortly after villebois-mareuil and his small band of frenchmen met with disaster at boshof, and thereafter all the foreigners were placed under the direct command of general de la rey. the man in search of the spoils of war was not so numerous, but he made his presence felt by stealing whatever was portable and saleable. when he became surfeited with looting houses in conquered territory and stealing horses, luggage, and goods of lesser value in the laagers he returned to johannesburg and pretoria and assisted in emptying residences and stores of their contents. this style of soldier-of-fortune never went into a battle of his own accord, and when he found himself precipitated into the midst of one he lost little time in reaching a place of safety. almost on a par with the looter was the adventurer, whose chief object of life seemed to be to tell of the battles he had assisted in winning. he was constantly in the laagers when there was no fighting in progress, but as soon as the report of a gun was heard the adventurer felt the necessity of going on urgent business to pretoria. after the fighting he could always be depended upon to relate the wildest personal experiences that camp-fires ever heard. he could tell of amazing experiences in the wilds of south america, on the steppes of siberia, and other ends of the earth, and after each narrative he would make a request for a "loan." the only adventures he had during the war were those which he encountered while attempting to escape from battles, and the only service he did to the boer army was to assist in causing the disappearance of commissariat supplies. the men who fought with the boers because they were deeply in sympathy with the republican cause were in far greater numbers than those with other motives, and their services were of much value to the federal forces. the majority of these were in the country when the war was begun, and were accepted as citizens of the country. they joined commandos and remained under boer leaders during the entire campaign. in the same class were the volunteers who entered the republics from natal and cape colony, for the purpose of assisting their co-religionists and kinsmen. of these there were about six thousand at the beginning of hostilities, but there were constant desertions, so that after the first six months of the war perhaps less than one-third of them remained. the afrikanders of natal and cape colony were not inferior in any respect to the boers whose forces they joined, but when the tide of war changed and it became evident that the boers would not triumph, they returned to their homes and farms in the colonies, in order to save them from confiscation. taking into consideration the fact that four-fifths of the white population of the two colonies was of the same race and religion as the boers, six thousand was not a large number of volunteers to join the federal forces. the artillery fire of the boer was so remarkably good that the delusion was cherished by the british commanders that foreign artillerists were in charge of all their guns. it was not believed that the boers had any knowledge of arms other than rifles, but it was not an easy matter to find a foreigner at a cannon or a rapid-fire gun. the field batteries of the state artillery of the transvaal had two german officers of low rank, who were in the country long before the war began, but almost all the other men who assisted with the field guns were young boers. the heavy artillery in natal was directed by mm. grunberg and leon, representatives of creusot, who manufactured the guns. m. leon's ability as an engineer and gunner pleased commandant-general joubert so greatly that he gave him full authority over the artillery. major albrecht, the director of the free state artillery, was a foreigner by birth, but he became a citizen of the free state long before the war, and did sterling service to his country until he was captured with cronje at paardeberg. otto von lossberg, a german-american who had seen service in the armies of germany and the united states, arrived in the country in march, and was thereafter in charge of a small number of heavy guns, but the majority of them were manned by boer officers. none of the foreigners who served in the boer army received any compensation. they were supplied with horses and equipment, at a cost to the boer governments of about £ for each volunteer, and they received better food than the burghers, but no wages were paid to them. before a foreign volunteer was allowed to join a commando, and before he received his equipment, he was obliged to take an oath of allegiance to the republic. only a few men who declined to take the oath were allowed to join the army. the oath of allegiance was an adaptation of the one which caused so much difficulty between great britain and the transvaal before the war. a translation of it reads-- "i hereby make an oath of solemn allegiance to the people of the south african republic, and i declare my willingness to assist, with all my power, the burghers of this republic in the war in which they are engaged. i further promise to obey the orders of those placed in authority according to law, and that i will work for nothing but the prosperity, the welfare, and the independence of the land and people of this republic, so truly help me, god almighty." [illustration: battlefield of elandslaagte] no army lists were ever to be found at pretoria or at the front, and it was as monumental a task to secure a fair estimate of the boer force as it was to obtain an estimate of the number of the foreigners who assisted them. the boers had no men whom they could spare to detail to statistical work, and, in consequence, no correct figures can ever be obtained. the numerical strength of the various organisations of foreigners could readily be obtained from their commanders, but many of the foreigners were in boer commandos, and their strength is only problematical. an estimate which was prepared by the british and american correspondents, who had good opportunities of forming as nearly a correct idea as any one, resulted in this list, which gives the numbers of those in the various organisations, as well as those in the commandos:-- nationality. in organisations. in commandos. french ... hollanders ... russian ... germans ... americans ... italians ... scandinavians ... irishmen ... ... afrikanders ... ... , total in organisations , ... ... total in commandos ... , grand total ... , the french legionaries were undoubtedly of more actual service to the boers than the volunteers of any other nationality, inasmuch as they were given the opportunities of doing valuable work. before the war one of the large forts at pretoria was erected by french engineers, and when the war was begun frenchmen of military experience were much favoured by general joubert, who was proud of his french extraction. the greater quantity of artillery had been purchased from french firms, and the commandant-general wisely placed guns in the hands of the men who knew how to operate them well. mm. grunberg and leon were of incalculable assistance in transporting the heavy artillery over the mountains of natal, and in securing such positions for them where the fire of the enemy's guns could not harm them. the work of the heavy guns, the famous "long toms" which the besieged in ladysmith will remember as long as the siege itself remains in their memory, was almost entirely the result of french hands and brains, while all the havoc caused by the heavy artillery in the natal battles was due to the engineering and gunnery of leon, grunberg, and their boer assistants. after remaining in natal until after the middle of january the two frenchmen joined the free state forces, to whom they rendered valuable assistance. leon was wounded at kimberley on february th, and, after assisting in establishing the ammunition works at pretoria and johannesburg, returned to france. viscount villebois-mareuil was one of the many foreigners who joined the boer army and lost their lives while fighting with the republican forces. while ranking as colonel on the general staff of the french army, and when about to be promoted to the rank of general, he resigned from the service on account of the dreyfus affair. a month after the commencement of the war villebois-mareuil arrived in the transvaal and went to the natal front, where his military experience enabled him to give advice to the boer generals. in january the colonel attached himself to general cronje's forces, with whom he took part in many engagements. he was one of the few who escaped from the disastrous fight at paardeberg, and shortly afterwards, at the war council at kroonstad, the french officer was created a brigadier-general--the first and only one in the boer army--and all the foreign legions were placed in his charge. it was purposed that he should harass the enemy by attacks on their lines of communication, and it was while he was at the outset of the first of these expeditions that he and twelve of his small force of sixty men were killed at boshof, in the north-western part of the free state, early in april. villebois-mareuil was a firm believer in the final success of the boer arms, and he received the credit of planning two battles--second colenso and magersfontein--which gave the boers at least temporary success. the viscount was a writer for the _revue des deux mondes_, the _correspondant_, and _la liberté_, the latter of which referred to him as the latter-day lafayette. colonel villebois-mareuil was an exceptionally brave man, a fine soldier, and a gentleman whose friendship was prized. lieutenant gallopaud was another frenchman who did sterling service to the boers while he was subordinate to colonel villebois-mareuil. at colenso gallopaud led his men in an attack which met with extraordinary success, and later in the free state campaign he distinguished himself by creditable deeds in several battles. gallopaud went to the transvaal for experience, and he secured both that and fame. after the death of villebois-mareuil, gallopaud was elected commandant of the french legion, and before he joined de la rey's army he had the novel pleasure of subduing a mutiny among some of his men. an algerian named mahomed ben naseur, who had not been favoured with the sight of blood for several weeks, threatened to shoot gallopaud with a mauser, but there was a cessation of hostilities on the part of the algerian shortly after big, powerful gallopaud went into action. the majority of the hollanders who fought with the boers were in the country when the war was begun, and they made a practical demonstration of their belief in the boer cause by going into the field with the first commandos. the dutch corps was under the command of commandant smoronberg, the former drill-master of the johannesburg police. among the volunteers were many young hollanders who had been employed by the government in pretoria and johannesburg establishments, and by the netherlands railways. in the first engagement, at elandslaagte, in november, the corps was practically annihilated and general kock, the leader of the uitlander brigade, himself received his death wounds. afterward the surviving members of the corps joined boer commandos where stray train-loads of officers' wines, such as were found the day before the battle of elandslaagte, were not allowed to interfere with the sobriety of the burghers. the russian corps, under commandant alexis de ganetzky and colonel prince baratrion-morgaff, was formed after all the men had been campaigning under boer officers in natal for several months. the majority of the men were johannesburgers without military experience who joined the army because there was nothing else to do. the german corps was as short-lived as the hollander organisation, it having been part of the force which met with disaster at elandslaagte. colonel schiel, a german-boer of brief military experience, led the organisation, but was unable to display his abilities to any extent before he was made a prisoner of war. captain count harran von zephir was killed in the fight at spion kop, and herr von brusenitz was killed and colonel von brown was captured at the tugela. the corps was afterward reorganised and, under the leadership of commandant otto krantz of pretoria, it fought valiantly in several battles in the free state. among the many german volunteers who entered the country after the beginning of hostilities was major baron von reitzenstein, the winner of the renowned long-distance horseback race from berlin to vienna. major von reitzenstein was a participant in battles at colesburg and in natal, and was eager to remain with the boer forces until the end of the war, but was recalled by his government, which had granted him a leave of absence from the german army. three of the forts at pretoria were erected by germans, and the large fort at johannesburg was built by colonel schiel at an expense of less than £ , . [illustration: colonel john e. blake, of the irish brigade] the americans in south africa who elected to fight under the boer flags did not promise to win the war single-handed, and consequently the boers were not disappointed in the achievements of the volunteers from the sister-republic across the atlantic. in proportion to their numbers the americans did as well as the best volunteer foreigners, and caused the government less trouble and expense than any of the uitlanders' organisations. the majority of the americans spent the first months of the war in boer commandos, and made no effort to establish an organisation of their own, although they were of sufficient numerical strength. a score or more of them joined the irish brigade organised by colonel j.e. blake, a graduate of west point military academy and a former officer in the american army, and accompanied the brigade through the first seven months of the natal campaign. after the exciting days of the natal campaign john a. hassell, an american who had been with the vryheid commando, organised the american scouts and succeeded in gathering what probably was the strangest body of men in the war. captain hassell himself was born in new jersey, and was well educated in american public schools and the schools of experience. he spent the five years before the war in prospecting and with shooting expeditions in various parts of south africa, and had a better idea of the geological features of the country than any of the commandants of the foreign legions. while he was with the vryheid commando hassell was twice wounded, once in the attack on caesar's hill and again at estcourt, where he received a bayonet thrust which disabled him for several weeks and deprived him of the brief honour of being general botha's adjutant. the one american whose exploits will long remain in the boer mind was john n. king, of reading, pennsylvania, who vowed that he would allow his hair to grow until the british had been driven from federal soil. king began his career of usefulness to society at the time of the johnstown flood, where he and some companions lynched an italian who had been robbing the dead. shortly afterward he gained a deep insight into matters journalistic by being the boon companion of a newspaper man. the newspaper man was in jail on a charge of larceny; king for murder. when war was begun king was employed on a johannesburg mine, and when his best friend determined to join the british forces he decided to enlist in the boer army. before parting the two made an agreement that neither should make the other prisoner in case they met. at spion kop, king captured his friend unawares and, after a brief conversation and a farewell grasp of the hand, king shot him dead. king took part in almost every one of the natal battles, and when there was no fighting to do he passed the time away by such reckless exploits as going within the british firing-line at ladysmith to capture pigs and chickens. he bore a striking resemblance to napoleon i., and loved blood as much as the little corsican. when the scouts went out from brandfort in april and killed several of the british scouts, king wept because he had remained in camp that day and had missed the opportunity of having a part in the engagement. the lieutenant of the scouts was john shea, a grey-haired man who might have had grand-children old enough to fight. shea fought with the boers because he thought they had a righteous cause, and not because he loved the smell of gunpowder, although he had learned to know what that was in the spanish-american war. shea endeavoured to introduce the american army system into the boer army, but failed signally, and then fought side by side with old takhaars all during the natal campaign. he was the guardian of the mascot of the scouts, william young, a thirteen-year-old american, who was acquainted with every detail of the preliminaries of the war. william witnessed all but two of the natal battles, and several of those in the free state, and could relate all the stirring incidents in connection with each, but he could tell nothing more concerning his birthplace than that it was "near the shore in america," both his parents having died when he was quite young. then there was able-bodied seaman william thompson, who was in the _wabash_ of the united states navy, and served under maccuen in the chinese-japanese war. thompson and two others tried to steal a piece of british heavy artillery while it was in action at ladysmith, but were themselves captured by some boers who did not believe in modern miracles. of newspaper men, there were half a dozen who laid aside the pen for the sword. george parsons, a _collier's weekly_ man, who was once left on a desert island on the east end of cuba to deliver a message to gomez, several hundred miles away; j.b. clarke, of webberville, michigan, who was correspondent for a pittsburg newspaper whenever some one could commandeer the necessary stamps; and four or five correspondents of country weeklies in western states. starfield and hiley were two texans, of american army experience, who fought with the boers because they had faith in their cause. starfield claimed the honour of having been pursued for half a day by two hundred british cavalryman, while hiley, the finest marksman in the corps, had the distinction of killing lieutenant carron, an american, in lord loch's horse, in a fierce duel behind ant-heaps at modder river on april st. later in the campaign many of the americans who entered the country for the purpose of fighting joined hassell's scouts, and added to the cosmopolitan character of the organisation. one came from paget [transcriber's note: sic] sound in a sailing vessel. another arrival boldly claimed to be the american military attaché at the paris exposition, and then requested every one to keep the matter a secret for fear the war department should hear of his presence in south africa and recall him. on the way to africa he had a marvellous midnight experience on board ship with a masked man who shot him through one of his hands. later the same wound was displayed as having been received at magersfontein, colenso, and spion kop. this industrious youth became adjutant to colonel blake, and assisted that picturesque irish-american in securing the services of the half-hundred red cross men who entered the country in april. of the many americans who fought in boer commandos none did better service nor was considered more highly by the boers than otto von lossberg, of new orleans, louisana [transcriber's note: sic]. lossberg was born in germany, and received his first military training in the army of his native country. he afterwards became an american citizen, and was with general miles' army in the porto-rico campaign. lossberg arrived in the transvaal in march, and on the last day of that month was in charge of the artillery which assisted in defeating colonel broadwood's column at sannaspost. two days later, in the fight between general christian de wet and mcqueenies' irish fusiliers, lossberg was severely wounded in the head, but a month later he was again at the front. with him continually was baron ernst von wrangel, a grandson of the famous marshal wrangle [transcriber's note: sic], and who was a corporal in the american army during the cuban war. when one of the four sons of state secretary reitz who were fighting with the boer army asked his father for permission to join the irish brigade, the secretary gave an excellent description of the organisation: "the members of the irish brigade do their work well, and they fight remarkably well, but, my son, they are not gentle in their manner." blake and his men were among the first to cross the natal frontier, and their achievements were notable even if the men lacked gentility of manner. the brigade took part in almost every one of the natal engagements and when general botha retreated from the tugela colonel blake and seventy-five of his men bravely attacked and drove back into ladysmith a squadron of cavalry which intended to cut off the retreat of botha's starving and exhausted burghers. blake and his men were guarding a battery on lombard kop, a short distance east of ladysmith, when he learned that joubert was leading the retreat northward, and allowing botha, with his two thousand men, to continue their ten days' fighting without reinforcements. instead of retreating with the other commandos, blake and seventy-five of his men stationed themselves on the main road between ladysmith and colenso and awaited the coming of botha. a force of cavalry was observed coming out of the besieged city, and it was apparent that they could readily cut off botha from the other boers. blake determined to make a bold bluff by scattering his small force over the hills and attacking the enemy from different directions. the men were ordered to fire as rapidly as possible in order to impress the british cavalry with a false idea of the size of the force. the seventy-five irishmen and americans made as much noise with their guns as a boer commando of a thousand men usually did, and the result was that the cavalry wheeled about and returned into ladysmith. botha and his men, dropping out of their saddles from sheer exhaustion and hunger, came up from colenso a short time after the cavalry had been driven back and made their memorable journey to joubert's new headquarters at glencoe. it was one of the few instances where the foreigners were of any really great assistance to the boers. after the relief of ladysmith the irish brigade was sent to helpmakaar pass, and remained there for six weeks, until colonel blake succeeded in inducing the war department to send them to the free state, where these "sons of the ould sod" might make a display of their valour to the world, and more especially to michael davitt, who was then visiting in the country. when the brigade was formed it was not necessary to show an irish birth certificate in order to become a member of the organisation, and consequently there were swedes, russians, germans, and italians marching under the green flag. a half-dozen of the brigade claimed to be irish enough for themselves and for those who could not lay claim to such extraction, and consequently a fair mean was maintained. a second irish brigade was formed in april by arthur lynch, an irish-australian, who was the former paris correspondent of a london daily newspaper. colonel lynch and his men were in several battles in natal and received warm praise from the boer generals. the italian legion was commanded by a man who loved war and warfare. camillo richiardi and general louis botha were probably the two handsomest men in the army, and both were the idols of their men. captain richiardi had his first experience of war in abyssinia, when he fought with the italian army. when the philippine war began he joined the fortunes of aguinaldo, and became the leader of the foreign legion. for seven months he fought against the american soldiers, not because he hated the americans, but because he loved fighting more. when the boer war seemed to promise more exciting work richiardi left aguinaldo's forces and joined a boer commando as a burgher. after studying boer methods for several months he formed an organisation of scouts which was of great service to the army. before the relief of ladysmith the italian scouts was the ablest organisation of the kind in the republics. the scandinavian corps joined cronje's army after the outbreak of war, and took part in the battle of magersfontein on december th. the corps occupied one of the most exposed positions during that battle and lost forty-five of the fifty-two men engaged. commandant flygare was shot in the abdomen and was being carried off the field by captain barendsen when a bullet struck the captain in the head and killed him instantly. flygare extricated himself from beneath barendsen's body, rose, and led his men in a charge. when he had proceeded about twenty yards a bullet passed through his head, and his men leapt over his corpse only to meet a similar fate a few minutes later. chapter x boer women in the war one of the most glorious pages in the history of the boer nation relates to the work of the women who fought side by side with their husbands against the hordes of murderous zulus in the days of the early voortrekkers. it is the story of hardy boer women, encompassed by thousands of bloodthirsty natives, fighting over the lifeless bodies of their husbands and sons, and repelling the attacks of the savages with a spirit and strength not surpassed by the valiant burghers themselves. the magnificent heritage which these mothers of the latter-day boer nation left to their children was not unworthily borne by the women of the end of the century, and the work which they accomplished in the war of - was none the less valuable, even though it was less hazardous and romantic, than that of their ancestors whose blood mingled with that of the savages on the grassy slopes of the natal mountains. [illustration: mrs. general lucas j. meyer] the conspicuous part played in the war by the boer women was but a sequence to that which they took in the political affairs of the country before the commencement of hostilities, and both were excellent demonstrations of their great patriotism and their deep loyalty to the republics which they loved. some one has said that real patriotism is bred only on the farms and plains of a country, and no better exemplification of the truth of the saying was necessary than that which was afforded by the wives and mothers of the burghers of the two south african republics. many months before the first shot of the war was fired the patriotic boer women commenced to take an active interest in the discussion of the grave affairs of state, and it increased with such amazing rapidity and volume that they were prepared for hostilities long before the men. women urged their husbands, fathers, and brothers to end the long period of political strife and uncertainty by shouldering arms and fighting for their independence. even sooner than the men, the boer women realised that peace must be broken sometime in order to secure real tranquillity in the country, and she who lived on the veld and was patriotic was anxious to have the storm come and pass as quickly as possible. so enthusiastic were the women before the war that it was a common saying among them that if the men were too timorous to fight for their liberty the daughters and grand-daughters of the heroines who fought against the zulus at weenen and doornkop would take up arms. even before the formal declaration of war was made, many of the boer women prevailed upon their husbands, brothers, and sons to leave their homes and go to the borders of the boer country to guard against any raids that might be attempted by the enemy, and in many instances women accompanied the men to prepare their meals and give them comfort. these manifestations of warlike spirit were not caused by the women's love of war, for they were even more peace-loving than the men, but they were the natural result of a desire to serve their country at a time when they considered it to be in great peril. the women knew that war would mean much bloodshed and the death of many of those whom they loved, but all those selfish considerations were laid aside when they believed that the life of their country was at stake. for weeks preceding the commencement of hostilities farmers' wives on the veld busied themselves with making serviceable corduroy clothing, knapsacks, and bread-bags for their male relatives who were certain to go on commando; and when it became known that an ultimatum would be sent to great britain the women prepared the burghers' outfits, so that there would be no delay in the men's departure for the front as soon as the declaration of war should be made. no greater or harder work was done by the women during the entire war than that which fell to their lot immediately following the formal declaration of war by the authorities. in the excitement of the occasion the government had neglected to make any satisfactory arrangements for supplying the burghers with food while on the journey to the front and afterward, and consequently there was much suffering from lack of provisions and supplies. at this juncture the women came to the rescue, and in a trice they had remedied the great defect. every farmhouse and every city residence became a bakery, and for almost two months all the bread consumed by the burgher army was prepared by the boer women. organisations were formed for this purpose in every city and town in the country, and by means of a well-planned division of labour this improvised commissariat department was as effective as that which was afterward organised by the government. certain women baked the bread, prepared sandwiches, and boiled coffee; others procured the supplies, and others distributed the food at the various railway stations through which the commando-trains passed, or carried it directly to the laagers. one of the women who was tireless in her efforts to feed the burghers and make them comfortable as they passed through pretoria on the railway was mrs. f.w. reitz, the wife of the transvaal state secretary, and never a commando-train passed through the capital that she was not there to distribute sandwiches, coffee, and milk. when the first battles of the campaign had been fought and the wounded were being brought from the front the women again volunteered to relieve an embarrassed government, and no nobler, more energetic efforts to relieve suffering were ever made than those of the patriotic daughters of the transvaal and orange free state. women from the farms assisted in the hospitals; wives who directed the herding of cattle during the absence of their husbands went to the towns and to the laager hospitals; young school girls deserted their books and assisted in giving relief to the burghers who were bullet-maimed or in the delirium of fever. no station in life was unrepresented in the humanitarian work. two daughters of the former president of the transvaal, the rev. thomas françois burgers, were nurses in the burke hospital in pretoria, which was established and maintained by a boer burgher. miss martha meyer, a daughter of general lucas meyer, devoted herself assiduously to the relief of the wounded in the same hospitals, and in the institution which barney barnato established in johannesburg there were scores of young women nurses who cared for british and boer wounded with unprejudiced attention. in every laager at the front were young boer vrouwen who, under the protection of the red cross, and indifferent, to the creed, caste, or country of the wounded and dying, assuaged the suffering of those who were entrusted to their care. in the hospital-trains which carried the wounded from the battlefields to the hospitals in pretoria and johannesburg were boer women who considered themselves particularly fortunate in having been able to secure posts where they could be of service, while at the stations where the trains halted were boer women bearing baskets of fruit and bottles of milk for the unfortunate burghers and soldiers in the carriages. when the war began and all the large mines on the witwatersrand and all the big industries and stores in johannesburg and pretoria were obliged to cease operations, much distress prevailed among the poorer classes of foreigners who were left behind when the great exodus was concluded, and after a few months their poverty became most acute. again the boer women shouldered the burden, and in a thousand different ways relieved the suffering of those who were the innocent victims of the war. subscription lists were opened and the wealthy boers contributed liberally to the fund for the distressed. depôts where the needy could secure food and clothing were established, while a soup-kitchen where mrs. peter maritz botha, one of the wealthiest women in the republics, stood behind a table and distributed food to starving men and women, was a veritable blessing to hundreds of needy foreigners. in johannesburg, boer women searched through the poorest quarters of the city for families in need of food or medicine and never a needy individual was neglected. among the few thousand british subjects who remained behind there were many who were in dire straits, but boer women made no distinctions between friend and enemy when there was an opportunity for performing a charitable deed. nor was their charity limited to civilians and those who were neutral in their sentiments with regard to the war. when the british prisoners of war were confined in the racecourse at pretoria the boer women sent many a waggon-load of fruit, luxuries, and reading matter to the soldiers who had been sent against them to deprive them of that which they esteemed most--the independence of their country. the spirit which animated the women was never better exemplified than by the action of a little boer girl of about ten years who approached a british prisoner on the platform of the station at kroonstaad and gave him a bottle of milk which she had kept carefully concealed under her apron. the soldier hardly had time to thank her for her gift before she turned and ran away from him as rapidly as she had the strength. it seemed as if she loved him as a man in distress, but feared him as a soldier, and hated him as the enemy of her country. besides assisting in the care of the wounded, the baking of bread for the burghers, and giving aid to the destitute, the women of the farms were obliged to attend to the flocks and herds which were left in their charge when the fathers, husbands, and brothers went to the front to fight. all the laborious duties of the farm were performed by the women, and it was common to witness a woman at work in the fields or driving a long ox-waggon along the roads. when the tide of war changed and the enemy drove the burghers to the soil of the republics the work of the women became even more laborious and diversified. the widely-separated farmhouses then became typical lunch stations for the burghers, and the women willingly were the proprietresses. boers journeying from one commando to another, or scouts and patrols on active duty, stopped at the farmhouses for food for themselves and their horses, and the women gladly prepared the finest feasts their larder afforded. no remuneration was ever accepted, and the realisation that they were giving even indirect assistance to their country's cause was deemed sufficient payment for any work performed. certain farmhouses which were situated near frequently travelled roads became the well-known rendezvous of the burghers, and thither all the women in the neighbourhood wended their way to assist in preparing meals for them. midway between smaldeel and brandfort was one of that class of farmhouses, and never a meal-time passed that mrs. barnard did not entertain from ten to fifty burghers. near thaba n'chu was the residence of john steyl, a member of the free state raad, whose wife frequently had more than one hundred burgher guests at one meal. when the battle of sannaspost was being fought a short distance from her house, mrs. steyl was on one of the hills overlooking the battlefield, interspersing the watching of the progress of the battle with prayers for the success of the burghers' arms. as soon as she learned that the boers had won the field she hastened home and prepared a sumptuous meal for her husband, her thirteen-year-old son, and all the generals who took part in the engagement. when the winter season approached and the burghers called upon the government for the heavy clothing which they themselves could not secure, there was another embarrassing situation, for there was only a small quantity of ready-made clothing in the country, and it was not an easy matter to secure it through the blockaded port at delagoa bay. there was an unlimited quantity of cloth in the country, but, as all the tailors were in the commandos at the front, the difficulty of converting the material into suits and overcoats seemed to be insurmountable until the women found a way. unmindful of the other vast duties they were engaged in they volunteered to make the clothing, and thenceforth every boer home was a tailor's shop. president kruger's daughters and grand-daughters, the misses eloff, who had been foremost in many of the other charitable works, undertook the management of the project, and they continued to preside over the labours of several hundred women who worked in the high court building in pretoria until the british forces entered the city. thousands of suits of clothing and overcoats were made and forwarded to the burghers in the field to protect them against the rigors of the south african winter's nights. one of the most conspicuous parts played in the war by the boer women was that of urging their husbands and sons to abbreviate their leaves-of-absence and return to their commandos. the mothers and wives of the burghers of the republics gave many glorious examples of their unselfishness and deep love of country, but none was of more material benefit than their efforts to preserve the strength of the army in the field. when the burghers returned to their homes on furloughs of from five days to two weeks the wives urged their immediate return, and, in many instances, insisted that they should rejoin their commandos forthwith upon pain of receiving no food if they remained at home. it was one of the boer's absolute necessities to have a furlough every two or three months, and unless it was given to him by the officers he was more than likely to take it without the prescribed permission. when burghers without such written permits reached their homes they were not received by their wives with the customary cordiality, and the air of frigidity which encompassed them soon compelled them to return to the field. the boer women despised a coward, or a man who seemed to be shirking his duty to his country, and, not unlike their sisters in countries of older civilisation, they possessed the power of expressing their disapprobation of such acts. it was not uncommon for the women to threaten to take their husbands' post of duty if the men insisted upon remaining at home, and invariably the ruse was efficient in securing the burghers' early return. during the war there were many instances to prove that the boer women of the end of the century inherited the bravery and heroic fortitude of their ancestors who fell victims to the zulu assegais in the natal valley, in . the boer women were as anxious to take an active part in the campaign as their grandmothers were at weenen, and it was only in obedience to the rules formulated by the officers that amazon corps were absent from the commandos. instances were not rare of women trespassing these regulations, and scores of boer women can claim the distinction of having taken part in many bloody battles. not a few yielded up their life's blood on the altar of liberty, and many will carry the scars of bullet-wounds to the grave. in the early part of the campaign there was no military rule which forbade women journeying to the front, and in consequence the laagers enjoyed the presence of many of the wives and daughters of the burghers. commandant-general joubert set an example to his men by having mrs. joubert continually with him on his campaigning trips, and the burghers were not slow in patterning after him. while the greater part of the army lay around besieged ladysmith large numbers of women were in the laagers, and they were continually busying themselves with the preparation of food for their relatives and with the care of the sick and wounded. not infrequently did the women accompany their husbands to the trenches along the tugela front, and it was asserted, with every evidence of veracity, that many of them used the rifles against the enemy with even more ardour and precision than the men. on february th, while the fighting around pieter's hills was at its height, the british forces captured a boer woman of nineteen years who had been fatally wounded. before she died she stated that she had been fighting from the same trench with her husband, and that he had been killed only a few minutes before a bullet struck her. while the boer army was having its many early successes in natal few of the women partook in the actual warfare from choice, or because they believed that it was necessary for them to fight. the majority of those who were in the engagements happened to be with their husbands when the battles were begun, and had no opportunity of escaping. the burghers objected to the presence of women within the firing lines, and every effort was made to prevent them from being in dangerous localities, but when it was impossible to transfer them to places of safety during the heat of the battle there was no alternative but to provide them with rifles and bandoliers so that they might protect themselves. the half-hundred women who endured the horrors of the siege at paardeberg with cronje's small band of warriors chose to remain with their husbands and brothers when lord roberts offered to convey them to places of safety, but they were in no wise an impediment to the burghers, for they assisted in digging trenches and wielded the carbines as assiduously as the most energetic men. [illustration: mrs. otto krantz, a boer amazon] one of the women who received the government's sanction to join a commando was mrs. otto krantz, the wife of a professional hunter. mrs. krantz accompanied her husband to natal at the commencement of hostilities, and remained in the field during almost the entire campaign in that colony. in the battle of elandslaagte, where some of the hardest hand-to-hand fighting of the war occurred, this amazon was by the side of her husband in the thick of the engagement, but escaped unscathed. later she took part in the battles along the tugela, and when affairs in the free state appeared to be threatening she was one of the first to go to the scene of action in that part of the country. among the prisoners captured by the british forces at colesburg were three boer women who wore men's clothing, but it was not until after they had been confined in the prison-ship at cape town for several weeks that their sex was discovered. a real little boertje was helena herbst wagner, of zeerust, who spent five months in the laagers and in the trenches without her identity being revealed. her husband went to the field early in the war and left her alone with a baby. the infant died in january and the disconsolate woman donned her husband's clothing, obtained a rifle and bandolier, and went to the natal front to search for her soldier-spouse. failing to find him, she joined the forces of commandant ben viljoen and faced bullets, bombs, and lyddite at spion kop, pont drift, and pieter's hills. during the retreat to van tonder's nek the young woman learned that her husband lay seriously wounded in the johannesburg hospital, and she deserted the army temporarily to nurse him. when louis botha became commandant-general of the army he issued an order that women would not be permitted to visit the laagers, and few, if any, took part in the engagements for some time thereafter. when the forces of the enemy approached pretoria the women made heroic efforts to encourage the burghers, and frequently went to the laagers to cheer them to renewed resistance. mrs. general botha and mrs. general meyer were specially energetic and effective in their efforts to instil new courage in the men, and during the war there was no scene which was more edifying than that of those two patriotic boer women riding about the laagers and beseeching the burghers not to yield to despair. on the fifteenth of may more than a thousand women assembled in the government buildings at pretoria for the purpose of deciding upon a course of action in the grave crisis which confronted the republic. it was the gravest assemblage that was ever gathered together in that city--a veritable concourse of spartan mothers. there was little speech, for the hearts of all were heavy, and tears were more plentiful than words, but the result of the meeting was the best testimonial of its value. it was determined to ask the government to send to the front all the men who were employed in the commissariat, the red cross, schools, post and telegraph offices, and to fill the vacancies thus created with women. a memorial, signed by mrs. h.s. bosman, mrs. general louis botha, mrs. f. eloff, mrs. p.m. botha, and mrs. f.w. reitz, was adopted for transmission to the government asking for permission to make such changes in the commissariat and other departments, and ending with these two significant clauses:-- .--a message of encouragement will be sent to our burghers who are at the front, beseeching them to present a determined stand against the enemy in the defence of our sacred cause, and pointing out to those who are losing heart the terrible consequences which will follow should they prove weak and wanting in courage at the present crisis in our affairs. .--the women throughout the whole state are requested to provide themselves with weapons, in the first instance to be employed in self-defence, and secondly so that they may be in a position to place themselves entirely at the disposition of the government. the last request was rather superfluous in view of the fact that the majority of the women in the transvaal were already provided with arms. there was hardly a boer homestead which was not provided with enough rifles for all the members of the family, and there were but few women who were not adepts in the use of firearms. in pretoria a woman's shooting club was organised at the outset of the war, and among the best shots were the misses eloff, the president's grand-daughters; mrs. van alphen, the wife of the postmaster-general, and mrs. reitz, the wife of the state secretary. the object of the organisation was to train the members in the use of the rifle so that they might defend the city against the enemy. the club members took great pride in the fact that mrs. paul kruger was the president of the organisation, and it was mutually agreed that the aged woman should be constantly guarded by them in the event of pretoria being besieged. happily the city was not obliged to experience that horror, and the club members were spared the ordeal of protecting president and mrs. kruger with their rifles as they had vowed to do. the boer women endured many discomforts, suffered many griefs, and bore many heartaches on account of the war and its varying fortunes, but throughout it all they acted bravely. there were no wild outbursts of grief when fathers, husbands, brothers or sons were killed in battle, and no untoward exclamations of joy when one of them earned distinction in the field. reverses of the army were made the occasions for a renewed display of patriotism or the signal for the sending of another relative to the field. unselfishness marked all the works of the woman of the city or veld, and the welfare of the country was her only ambition. she might have had erroneous opinions concerning the justice of the war and the causes which were responsible for it, but she realised that the land for which her mother and her grandmother had wept and bled and for which all those whom she loved were fighting and dying was in distress, and she was patriotic enough to offer herself for a sacrifice on her country's altar. [illustration: mrs. commandant-general louis botha] chapter xi incidents of the war in every battle, and even in a day's life in the laagers, there were multitudes of interesting incidents as only such a war produces, and although sherman's saying that "war is hell" is as true now as it ever was, there was always a plenitude of amusing spectacles and events to lighten the burdens of the fighting burghers. there were the sad sides of warfare, as naturally there would be, but to these the men in the armies soon became hardened, and only the amusing scenes made any lasting impression upon their minds. it was strange that when a burgher during a battle saw one of his fellow-burghers killed in a horrible manner, and witnessed an amusing runaway, that after the battle he should relate the details of the latter and say nothing of the former, but such was usually the case. men came out of the bloody spion kop fight and related amusing incidents of the struggle, and never touched upon the grave phases until long afterward when their fund of laughable experiences was exhausted. after the battle of sannaspost the burghers would tell of nothing but the amusing manner in which the drivers of the british transport waggons acted when they found that they had fallen into the hands of the boers in the bed of the spruit and the fun they had in pursuing the fleeing cavalrymen. at the ending of almost every battle there was some conspicuous amusing incident which was told and retold and laughed about until a new and fresh incident came to light to take its place. in one of the days' fighting at magersfontein a number of youthful boers, who were in their first battle, allowed about one hundred highlanders to approach to within a hundred yards of the trench in which they were concealed, and then sprang up and shouted: "hands up!" the highlanders were completely surprised, promptly threw down their arms, and advanced with arms above their heads. one of the young boers approached them, then called his friends, and, scratching his head, asked: "what shall we do with them?" there was a brief consultation, and it was decided to allow the highlanders to return to their column. when the young burghers arrived at the boer laager with the captured rifles and bandoliers, general cronje asked them why they did not bring the men. the youths looked at each other for a while; then one replied, rather sheepishly, "we did not know they were wanted." in the same battle an old boer had his first view of the quaintly dressed highlanders, and at a distance mistook them for a herd of ostriches from a farm that was known to be in the neighbourhood, refused to fire upon them, and persuaded all the burghers in his and the neighbouring trenches that they were ostriches and not human beings. during the second battle at colenso a large number of boers swam across the river and captured thirty or forty british soldiers who had lost the way and had taken refuge in a sluit. an old takhaar among the boers had discarded almost all his clothing before entering the river, and was an amusing spectacle in shirt, bandolier, and rifle. one of the soldiers went up to the takhaar, looked at him from head to foot, and, after saluting most servilely, inquired, "to what regiment do you belong, sir?" the boer returned the salute, and, without smiling, replied, "i am one of rhodes' 'uncivilised boers,' sir." in the same fight an ammunition waggon, heavily laden, and covered with a huge piece of duck, was in an exposed position, and attracted the fire of the british artillery. general meyer and a number of burghers were near the waggon, and were waiting for a lull in the bombardment in order to take the vehicle to a place of safety. they counted thirty-five shells that fell around the waggon without striking it, and then the firing ceased. several men were sent forward to move the vehicle, and when they were within several yards of it two kafirs crept from under the duck covering, shook themselves, and walked away as if nothing had interrupted their sleep. in the pretoria commando there was a young professional photographer named reginald shepperd who carried his camera and apparatus with him during the greater part of the campaign, and took photographs whenever he had an opportunity. on the morning of the spion kop fight, when the burghers were preparing to make the attack on the enemy, mr. shepperd gathered all the burghers of the carolina laager and posed them for a photograph. he was on the point of exposing the plate when a shrapnel shell exploded above the group, and every one fled. the camera was left behind and all the men went into the battle. in the afternoon when the engagement had ended it was found that another shell had torn off one of the legs of the camera's tripod and that forty-three of the men who were in the group in the morning had been killed or wounded. before the same battle, general schalk burger asked mr. shepperd to photograph him, as he had had a premonition of death, and stated that he desired that his family should have a good likeness of him. the general was in the heat of the fight, but he was not killed. while ladysmith was being besieged by the boers there were many interesting incidents in the laagers of the burghers, even if there was little of exciting interest. in the staats artillery there were many young boers who were constantly inventing new forms of amusement for themselves and the older burghers, and some of the games were as hazardous as they seemed to be interesting to the participants. the "long tom" on bulwana hill was fired only when the burghers were in the mood, but occasionally the artillery youths desired to amuse themselves, and then they operated the gun as rapidly as its mechanism would allow. when the big gun had been discharged, the young boers were wont to climb on the top of the sandbags behind which it was concealed, and watch for the explosion of the shell in ladysmith. after each shot from the boer gun it was customary for the british to reply with one or more of their cannon and attempt to dislodge "long tom." after seeing the flash of the british guns the burghers on the sandbags waited until they heard the report of the explosion, then called out, "i spy!" as a warning that the shell would be coming along in two or three seconds, and quietly jumped down behind the bags, while the missile passed over their retreats. it was a dangerous game, and the old burghers frequently warned them against playing it, but they continued it daily, and no one was ever injured. the men who operated the british and boer heliographs at the tugela were a witty lot, and they frequently held long conversations with each other when there were no messages to be sent or received by their respective officers. in february the boer operator signalled to the british operator on the other side of the river and asked: "when is general buller coming over here for that christmas dinner? it is becoming cold and tasteless." the good-natured briton evaded the question and questioned him concerning the date of paul kruger's coronation as king of south africa. the long-distance conversation continued in the same vein, each operator trying to have amusement at the expense of the other. what probably was the most mirth-provoking communication between the two combatants in the early part of the campaign was the letter which colonel baden-powell sent to general snyman, late in december, and the reply to it. colonel baden-powell, in his letter, which was several thousand words in length, told his besieger that it was utter folly for the boers to continue fighting such a great power as great britain, that the british army was invincible, that the boers were fighting for an unjust cause, and that the british had the sympathy of the american nation. general snyman made a brief reply, the gist of which was, "come out and fight." [illustration: general snyman] a british nobleman, who was captured by the boers at the moester's hoek fight in the free state in april, was the author of a large number of communications which were almost as mirthful as colonel baden-powell's effort. when he was made a prisoner of war the earl had a diary filled with the most harrowing personal experiences ever penned, and it was chiefly on that evidence that general de wet sent him with the other prisoners to pretoria. the earl protested against being sent to pretoria, asserting that he was a war correspondent and a non-combatant, and dispatched most pitiful telegrams to presidents kruger and steyn, state secretary reitz and a host of other officials, demanding an instant release from custody. in the telegrams he stated that he was a peer of the realm; that all doubts on that point could be dispelled by a reference to burke's peerage; that he was not a fighting-man; that it would be disastrous to his reputation as a correspondent if he were not released in order that he might cable an exclusive account of the moester's hoek battle to his newspaper, and finally ended by demanding his instant release and safe conduct to the british lines. the boers installed the earl in the officers' prison, and printed his telegrams in the newspapers, with the result that the briton was the most laughed-at man that appeared in the boer countries during the whole course of the war. several days before commandant-general joubert died he related an amusing story of an irishman who was taken prisoner in one of the natal battles. the irishman was slightly wounded in one of his hands and it was decided to send him to the british lines together with all the other wounded prisoners, but he refused to be sent back. after he had protested strenuously to several other boer officers, the soldier was taken before general joubert, who pointed out to him the advantages of being with his own people and the discomforts of a military prison. the irishman would not waver in his determination and finally exclaimed: "i claim my rights as a prisoner of war and refuse to allow myself to be sent back. i have a wife and two children in ireland, and i know what is good for my health." the man was so obdurate, general joubert said, that he could do nothing but send him to the pretoria military prison. an incident of an almost similar nature occurred at the battle of sannaspost, where the boers captured almost two hundred waggons. among the convoy was a red cross ambulance waggon filled with rifles and a small quantity of ammunition. the boers unloaded the waggon and then informed the physician in charge of it that he might proceed and rejoin the column to which he had been attached. the physician declined to move and explained his action by saying that he had violated the rules of the international red cross and would therefore consider himself and his assistants prisoners of war. general christian de wet would not accept them as prisoners and trekked southward, leaving them behind to rejoin the british column several days afterward. [illustration: first british prisoners of war captured near dundee] during the war it was continually charged by both combatants that dum-dum bullets were being used, and undoubtedly there was ample foundation for the charges. both boers and british used that particular kind of expansive bullet notwithstanding all the denials that were made in newspapers and orations. after the battle of pieter's hills, on february th, dr. krieger, general meyer's staff physician, went into general sir charles warren's camp for the purpose of exchanging wounded prisoners. after the interchange of prisoners had been accomplished general warren produced a dum-dum bullet which had been found on a dead boer's body and, showing it to dr. krieger, asked him why the boers used the variety of cartridge that was not sanctioned by the rules of civilised warfare. dr. krieger took the cartridge in his hand and, after examining it, returned it to sir charles with the remark that it was a british lee-metford dum-dum. general warren seemed to be greatly nonplussed when several of his officers confirmed the physician's statement and informed him that a large stock of dum-dum cartridges had been captured by the boers at dundee. it is an undeniable fact that the boers captured thousands of rounds of dum-dum cartridges which bore the "broad arrow" of the british army, and used them in subsequent battles. it was stated in pretoria that the boers had a small stock of dum-dum ammunition, which was not sent to the burghers at the front at the request of president kruger, who strongly opposed the use of an expansive bullet in warfare. it was an easy matter, however, for the boers to convert their ordinary mauser cartridges into dum-dum by simply cutting off the point of the bullet, and this was occasionally done. one of the pluckiest men in the boer army was arthur donnelly, a young irish american from san francisco, who served in the pretoria detective force for several years, and went to the war in one of the commandos under general cronje. at the battle of koodoesberg donnelly and captain higgins, of the duke of cornwall's regiment, both lay behind ant-heaps, several hundred yards apart, and engaged in a duel with carbines for almost an hour. after donnelly had fired seventeen shots captain higgins was fatally wounded by a bullet, and lifted his handkerchief in token of surrender. when the young irish-american reached him the officer was bleeding profusely, and started to say: "you were a better man than i," but he died in donnelly's arms before he could utter the last two words of the sentence. at magersfontein donnelly was in a perilous position between the two forces, and realised that he could not escape being captured by the british. he saw a number of cavalrymen sweeping down upon him, and started to run in an opposite direction. before he had proceeded a long distance he stumbled across the corpse of a red cross physician which lay partly concealed under tall grass. in a moment donnelly had exchanged his own papers and credentials for those in the physician's pockets, and a minute later the cavalrymen were upon him. he was sent to cape town, and confined in the prison-ship _manila_, from which he and two other boers attempted to escape on new year's night. one of the men managed to reach the water without being observed by the guards, and swam almost three miles to shore, but donnelly and the other prisoner did not succeed in their project. several days later he was released on account of his red cross credentials, and was sent to the british front to be delivered to the boer commander. he was taken out under a flag of truce by several unarmed british officers, and several armed boers went to receive him. while the transfer was being made a british horseman, with an order to the officers to hold the prisoner, dashed up to the group and delivered his message. the officers attempted to take donnelly back to camp with them, but he refused to go, and, taking one of the boer's rifles, ordered them to return without him--a command which they obeyed with alacrity in view of the fact that all of them were unarmed, while the boers had carbines. when the british column under colonel broadwood left the village of thaba n'chu on march th all the british inhabitants were invited to accompany the force to bloemfontein, where they might have the protection of a stronger part of the army. among those who accepted the invitation were four ladies and four children, ranging in ages from sixteen months to fifteen years. when the column was attacked by the boers at sannaspost the following morning, the ladies and children were sent by the boers to a culvert in the incomplete railway line which crossed the battlefield, and remained there during almost the entire battle. they were in perfect safety, so far as being actually in the line of fire was concerned, but bullets and shells swept over and exploded near them, and they were in constant terror of being killed. the nervous tension was so great and continued for such a long time that one of the children, a twelve-year-old daughter of mrs. j. shaw mckinlay, became insane shortly after the battle was ended. an incident of the same fight was a duel between two captains of the opposing forces. in the early parts of the engagement the burghers and the soldiers were so close together that many hand-to-hand encounters took place and many a casualty followed. captain scheppers, of the boer heliographers, desired to make a prisoner of a british captain and asked him to surrender. the british officer said that he would not be captured alive, drew his sword, and attempted to use it. the boer grasped the blade, wrenched the sword from the officer's hand, and knocked him off his horse. the briton fired several revolver shots at scheppers while the boer was running a short distance for his carbine, but missed him. after scheppers had secured his rifle the two fired five or six shots at each other at a range of about ten yards and, with equal lack of skill, missed. finally, scheppers hit the officer in the chest and laid him low. at the same time near the same spot two boers called upon a recruit in roberts's horse to surrender, but the young soldier was so thoroughly frightened that he held his rifle perpendicularly in front of him and emptied the magazine toward the clouds. while the siege of ladysmith was in progress, piet boueer, of the pretoria commando, made a remarkable shot which was considered as the record during the natal campaign. he and several other boers were standing on one of the hills near the laager when they observed three british soldiers emerging from one of the small forts on the outskirts of the city. the distance was about , yards, or almost one mile, but boueer fired at the men, and the one who was walking between the others fell. the two fled to the fort, but returned to the spot a short time afterward, and the boer fired at them a second time. the bullet raised a small cloud of dust between the men, sent them back again, and they did not return until night for their companion, who had undoubtedly been killed by the first shot. there were many other excellent marksmen in the boer army, whose ability was often demonstrated in the interims of battles. after , shooting clubs were organised at pretoria, potchefstroom, krugersdorp, klerksdorp, johannesburg and heidelberg, and frequent contests were held between the various organisations. in the last contest before the war e. blignaut, of johannesburg, won the prize by making one hundred and three out of a possible one hundred and five points, the weapon having been a mauser at a range of seven hundred yards. these contests, naturally, developed many fine marksmen, and, in consequence, it was not considered an extraordinary feat for a man to kill a running hare at five hundred yards. while the boers were waiting for lord roberts's advance from bloemfontein, commandant blignaut, of the transvaal, killed three running springbok at a range of more than , yards, a feat witnessed by a score of persons. the boers were not without their periods of depression during the war, but when these had passed there was no one who laughed more heartily over their actions during those times than they. the first deep gloom that the boers experienced was after the three great defeats at paardeberg, kimberley and ladysmith, and the minor reverses at abraham's kraal, poplar grove and bloemfontein. it was amusing, yet pitiful, to see an army lose all control of itself and flee like a wild animal before a forest fire. as soon as the fight at poplar grove was lost the burghers mounted their horses and fled northward. president kruger and the officers could do nothing but follow them. they passed through bloemfontein and excited the population there; then, evading roads and despising railway transportation, they rode straight across the veld and never drew rein until they reached brandfort, more than thirty miles from poplar grove. hundreds did not stop even at brandfort, but continued over the veld until they reached their homes in the north of the free state and in the transvaal. in their alarm they destroyed all the railway bridges and tracks as far north as smaldeel, sixty miles from bloemfontein, and made their base at kroonstad, almost forty miles farther north. a week later a small number of the more daring burghers sallied toward bloemfontein and found that not a single british soldier was north of that city. so fearful were they of the british army before the discovery of their foolish flight that two thousand cavalrymen could have sent them all across the vaal river. appendix the strength of the boer army the war departments of the two boer governments never made any provision for obtaining statistics concerning the strength of the armies in the field, and consequently the exact number of burghers who bore arms at different periods of the war will never be accurately known. a year before the war was begun the official reports of the two governments stated that the transvaal had thirty thousand and the free state ten thousand men between the ages of sixteen and sixty, capable of performing military duties, but these figures proved to be far in excess of the number of men who were actually bearing arms at any one period of the war. in the early stages of the war men who claimed to have intimate knowledge of boer affairs estimated the strength of the republican armies variously from sixty thousand to more than one hundred thousand men. major laing, who had years of south african military experience, and became a member of field-marshal lord roberts's bodyguard, in december estimated the strength of the boer forces at more than one hundred thousand men, exclusive of the foreigners who joined the fortunes of the republican armies. other men proved, with wondrous arrays of figures and statistics, that the boer army could not possibly consist of less than eighty or ninety thousand men. the real strength of the boer armies at no time exceeded thirty thousand armed men, and of that number more than one-half were never in the mood for fighting. if it could be ascertained with any degree of accuracy it would be found that not more than fifteen thousand boers were ever engaged in battles, while the other half of the army remained behind in the laagers and allowed those who were moved by the spirit or by patriotism to volunteer for waging battles. as has been pointed out in other chapters, the officers had no power over their men, and consequently the armies were divided into two classes of burghers: those who volunteered their services whenever there was a battle, and those who remained in the laagers--the "bible-readers," as they were called by some of the more youthful boers. there were undoubtedly more than thirty thousand men in the republics capable of bearing arms, but it was never possible to compel all of them to go to the front, nor was it less difficult to retain them there when once they had reached the commando-laagers. ten per cent. of the men in the commandos were allowed to return to their homes on leave of absence, and about an equal proportion left the laagers without permission, so that the officers were never able to keep their forces at their normal strength. the war departments at pretoria and bloemfontein and the officers of the commandos at the front had no means of learning the exact strength of the forces in the field except by making an actual enumeration of the men in the various commandos, and this was never attempted. there were no official lists in either of the capitals and none of the commandos had even a roll-call, so that to obtain a really accurate number of burghers in the field it was necessary to visit all the commandos and in that way arrive at a conclusion. early in december the transvaal war department determined to make a christmas gift to all the burghers of the two republics who were in the field, and all the generals and commandants were requested to send accurate lists of the number of men in their commands. replies were received from every commando, and the result showed that there were almost twenty-eight thousand men in the field. that number of presents was forwarded, and on christmas day every burgher at the front received one gift, but there were almost two thousand packages undistributed. this was almost conclusive proof that the boer armies in december did not exceed twenty-six thousand men. at various times during the campaign the foreign newspaper correspondents--mr. douglas story, of the london _daily mail_; mr. john o. knight, of the _san francisco call_; mr. thomas f. millard, of the _new york herald_, and the writer--made strenuous efforts to secure accurate information concerning the boers' strength, and the results invariably showed that there were less than thirty thousand men in the field. the correspondents visited all the principal commandos and had the admirable assistance of the generals and commandants, as well as that of the officers of the war departments, but frequently the results did not rise above the twenty-five thousand mark. according to the statement of the late commandant-general joubert, made several days before his death, he never had more than thirteen thousand men in natal, and of that number less than two thousand were engaged in the trek to mooi river. after the relief of ladysmith the forces in natal dwindled down, by reason of desertions and withdrawals, to less than five thousand, and when general buller began his advance there were not more than four thousand five hundred boers in that colony to oppose him. the strength of the army in the field varied considerably, on account of causes which are described elsewhere, and there is no doubt that it frequently fell below twenty thousand men while the boers were still on their enemy's territory. the following table, prepared with great care and with the assistance of the leading boer commanders, gives as correct an idea of the burghers' numerical strength actually in the field at various stages of the campaign as will probably ever be formulated:-- -----------------+----------+------------+------------+------- date. | natal. | free state | transvaal | total. | | and border.| and border.| -----------------+----------+------------+------------+------- november , | , | , | , | , december , | , | , | , | , january , | , | , | , | , february , | , | , | , | , march , | , | , | , | , april , | , | , | , | , may , | , | , | , | , june , | | , | , | , july , | | , | , | , -----------------+----------+------------+------------+------- according to this table, the average strength of the boer forces during the nine months was considerably less than , men. in refutation of these figures it may be found after the conclusion of hostilities that a far greater number of men surrendered their guns to the british army, but it must be remembered that not every boer who owned a weapon was continually in the field. the gresham press unwin brothers, woking and london. a vendetta of the desert by william charles scully published by methuen and co, london. this edition dated . a vendetta of the desert, by william charles scully. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ a vendetta of the desert, by william charles scully. chapter one. the power of the dog. old tyardt van der walt, head of the family of that name, came of good netherlands stock. his grandfather had emigrated from holland with his family in the middle of the eighteenth century and settled at the cape. he bought a farm in the stellenbosch district and there commenced life anew as a wine farmer. the family consisted of his wife, a son and several daughters--all of whom married early. at his death the farm descended to his son cornelius from whom, in course of time, another tyardt inherited it. the last-mentioned tyardt forsook the settled and fertile environs of stellenbosch and trekked forward to seek his fortune in the unknown and perilous wilderness. a story is told as to the reason for this migration which, though it has no direct bearing on the story which is to be recorded in this volume, is interesting enough in itself to merit relation. there was, it is said, a gruesome legend connected with the van der walts. it dated from the times of william the silent and was to the following effect:--the head of the van der walt family of that period lived in the town of maestricht. he was a man of solitary habits. in his youth his wife had deserted him for another. he had been passionately attached to her, and he never recovered from the blow, but lived the rest of his days in solitude. years afterwards, when he was quite an old man, a son of the man who had wronged him--a young and zealous lutheran preacher, came to live in his vicinity. this preacher was in the habit of visiting in disguise families of his co-religionists in the provinces where the spaniards held complete dominion. he had a dog that had been trained to convey cypher messages from place to place. van der walt betrayed this preacher to the authorities, with the result that he was captured and sentenced to be burnt alive. the betrayer was among those who crowded round the stake to gloat over the agonies of the victim. the dog had followed its master and, seeing his evil case, set up a piteous howling. the spaniards, judging the heretic to be a wizard, and the dog his familiar spirit, caught the unhappy animal and bound it among the faggots at its master's feet. just as the pile was lit the preacher lifted up his voice and cried aloud:-- "gerrit van der walt,--for thy black treachery to a servant of the lord, thou shalt die in misery within a year and a day. thy soul shall wander homeless for ever and shall howl like a dog as the harbinger of misfortune whenever it is about to fall upon one of thy blood." it has been declared on respectable authority that from and after the death of gerrit, which took place under miserable circumstances within the period named by his victim, a dog which was never seen would howl around the dwelling of any van der walt about to die, for the three nights previous to the passing of his soul. thus a new terror was added to the death-bed of any member of the family. the following account of the last occasion when this warning howl was heard is firmly believed by the few surviving descendants in the direct line. it is taken from an old manuscript which purports to date from the year in which the incidents related are alleged to have taken place. towards the end of the last century, tyardt's father, cornelius van der walt, lay ill in bed, but no one imagined that his illness was likely to be fatal, until one night after supper the dreaded howl was heard under his window. the sick man, filled with terror, arose to a sitting posture in his bed, and called tyardt, who was his eldest son, before him. "if that dog be not shot by you before the day after to-morrow," he said, "i will make my will anew and dispossess you of everything that the law will allow me to leave to others." next day tyardt brooded long and deeply over the occurrence. he did not love his father, so the old man's death would have caused him no regret, but he knew that the threat would be carried out. there was an old and tattered family bible on the loft, with a strong and heavy metal clasp. this clasp tyardt broke into fragments about the size of ordinary slugs, and with them he loaded his gun, using portions of the leaves as wadding. as soon as night fell he stole quietly out and posted himself among the branches of a small tree which grew just in front of the window of the room in which his father lay. the night was pitch dark; a damp fog had rolled in from the sea and covered everything. tyardt had not long to wait before a long, low howl, which curdled his blood with dread, arose from just beneath him. terrified as he was, he thought of the property at stake, so he hardened his will to the purpose and carefully cocked his gun. there could be no mistaking the exact locality from which the howling came; it was almost at his feet. he fired, and a horrible, half-human yell followed the report of the gun. then came a sound of scuffling upon the ground. soon a light was brought from the house, and then tyardt descended from the tree. beneath lay the huddled, bleeding figure of an old man of hideous aspect, clad in a garb unknown at the cape but which, it was afterwards thought, suggested some wood-cuts in an old book brought out by the last-deceased van der walt from holland. a sheet was thrown over the horror, and the trembling family sat up, waiting for, but dreading, the light of day. it was not until after the sun had arisen that they ventured to go out and visit the scene of the tragedy,--but no trace of the body could be seen; nor was there any sign of the blood which had so much horrified the beholders on the previous night. there appeared to have been no doubt as to the main facts having occurred; slaves, servants, and, in fact, every member of the household except the sick man, had seen the body. the mystery was never solved; no body was ever found; no one from the neighbourhood was missed, nor, so far as could be ascertained, had any man resembling the description of the body ever been seen in the neighbourhood. cornelius van der walt died during the following night, but without altering his will. tyardt, however, took the matter so much to heart that he became a changed man. he came to hate the neighbourhood, and, leaving the farm in the hands of his mother and a younger brother, he set his face to the northward. he purchased two wagons, packed them with his goods, and, with his young wife and three small children, plunged into the unknown wilderness. after having passed some distance beyond the farthest outposts of civilisation, he at length halted high up near the head of a valley where the tanqua river gorge cleaves the southern face of the roggeveld mountain range. here he built a homestead and took possession of the ground surrounding it for some miles. from the large numbers of elands which haunted the hills he named his new home "elandsfontein." for some time he was left to enjoy the solitude for which his nature craved; but he lived long enough to feel himself inconveniently crowded when neighbours established themselves at distances of from fifteen to twenty miles from him on each side. however, he still drew comfort from the thought that beyond the mountain chain which frowned down upon his homestead on the northward, the vast, unoccupied desert lay--and appeared likely to lie for ever unappropriated. moreover, it was certainly convenient to have the assistance of the aforesaid neighbours in hunting bushmen, with whom the surrounding mountains were infested. the occurrence of the night before his father's death affected the character of tyardt van der walt permanently. for years he could never bear to be alone in the dark;--he suffered from the dread that the horrible creature he had shot would re-appear to him. this man, who did not know what fear of any material thing meant, was for long an abject slave to dread of the supernatural, and fell into a state of piteous terror if a dog howled within his hearing after dark. it is said that his death was, after all, caused by the howling of a dog. during one of his periodical fits of nervous depression he felt unwell and, under his wife's persuasion, went to his bed one day a few hours before the usual time. that night a dog howled on the hill across the valley; the sick man, as soon as he heard it, turned his face to the wall, saying that his summons had come. he refused to take any nourishment, and died in the course of a few days. strange,--that the crime of over two centuries back should have sent its baleful influence across the ocean wastes and the desert sands to drag a man who was blameless in it to his doom. no stouter-hearted men than those of the van der walt stock ever took their lives into their hands and faced, with unflinching eye, the dangers of the desert which they helped so mightily to reclaim. it is, however, an extraordinary fact that no member of this family in the direct line could ever hear the howling of a dog after nightfall without being reduced to abject terror. chapter two. how the brothers quarrelled. tyardt van der walt left a widow, two sons--stephanus and gideon--who were twins, and three daughters. as is usual among the boers, the daughters married early in life; they have nothing to do with this story. the beginning of the quarrel between the twin-brothers dated from years back--from the time when they went down with a wagon load of game peltries and other produce to stellenbosch and there fell in love, instantaneously and unanimously, with marta venter, their fair-haired cousin, whom they met in the street, coming from confirmation class. stephanus, the elder twin, had a slightly looser and glibber tongue than gideon; besides, he was probably not so much in earnest as the latter; so, other things being equal, his suit was practically bound to prosper. when, after advantageously selling their load in cape town, the brothers inspanned their wagon and started for home, stephanus and fair-haired marta were engaged to be married and the darkened heart of gideon was filled with a love which, in spite of many shocks and changes, never wholly died out of it. the wedding took place at the next _nachtmaal_, gideon managing, by means of some pretext, to avoid being present. soon afterwards old tyardt cut off a portion of the farm and handed it over to his married son, who thereupon built a homestead and began farming on his own account. it was some time before gideon could bring himself to meet his sister-in-law without embarrassment; however, an accidental event cleared the way for what appeared to be a complete reconciliation. one day, when the brothers happened to be camped with their wagons on the southern bank of the swollen tanqua river, waiting for the flood to subside, stephanus, against his brother's advice, ventured into the current and was swept away. gideon dashed in to the rescue and saved his brother's life at the risk of his own. after this the old friendly relations were, to all appearances, firmly re-established. these brothers strikingly resembled each other in both disposition and appearance. both were large, handsome, keen-featured men, with flashing black eyes and choleric tempers. there was only one slight difference apparent: under strong excitement or deep feeling gideon became morose and taciturn,--stephanus excited and talkative. shortly after old tyardt's death the quarrel broke out afresh. the portion of the farm assigned to stephanus was secured to him by will; the remaining extent was bequeathed to gideon. the shares of the daughters in the estate were paid out in stock. elandsfontein was a large farm and was naturally divided into two nearly equal parts by a deep kloof running almost right through it. in dry seasons this kloof contained no water, but on the side which had been assigned to stephanus there was a small spring situated in a rocky depression which was filled with scrubby bush. from this a pure, cool stream flowed. immediately after issuing from the scrub this stream lost itself in a swamp; near its source, however, it had never been known to fail in the most severe drought. although the spring was about a hundred paces from the dividing line, a clause had been inserted in the will of old tyardt, in terms of which the water was to be held as common property between the owners of the farm; thus stock from gideon's land were to be allowed to drink at the spring whenever circumstances required. within a very few years after old tyardt's death the land was smitten by a heavy drought and the elandsfontein spring soon proved unequal to the demands made upon it from both sides. then strife of the most embittered description resulted between the brothers. the dispute was the subject of a law suit before the supreme court at cape town, but no satisfactory settlement was arrived at. as a matter of fact--owing to the clumsiness with which the will was drawn--no settlement was possible without concessions on both sides, and neither brother would concede so much as a hair's breadth. the feud between the brothers became a scandal to the neighbourhood; in fact they could hardly meet without insulting each other grossly. on several occasions they had come to blows. the climax was reached when, in response to a formal call, they appeared before the court of elders of the dutch reformed church at stellenbosch. after due enquiry had been made into the causes of the quarrel the brothers were called upon to tender hands to each other in token of reconciliation. this they both refused, in insulting terms, to do. then the sacred and highly respectable precincts of the vestry became the scene of an unseemly brawl, and the brothers were formally excommunicated. some time before this, and shortly before matters became hopelessly embittered, gideon had married aletta du val, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer. there was little love on gideon's side, for he had never got over his first passion for his fair-haired cousin. one fateful morning in early summer gideon placed the saddle upon his horse, took down from the rack his long-barrelled "roer," his bandolier of greased bullets and his powder-horn, and started for a ride along the western boundary of his farm. his flock of flat-tailed sheep were kraaled at an outpost which was in charge of a hottentot herd, and he wished to count them. this flock was in the habit of drinking every morning at the stream which had caused so much strife, for the weather had been dry for some months, and the rivulet which sometimes ran in the dividing kloof had long since disappeared. the day was hot, but not oppressively so. every now and then a breeze sweet with suggestion of the distant western ocean would breathe refreshingly over the arid land, acting like a tonic on all who inhaled it. the tulip-like cups of the sweet-scented gethyllis blossomed out in rich masses from the hot sand on the wayside, the wild notes of the chanting falcon seemed to fill the sky as the birds circled round the highest points of the cliffs that flanked the valley; the hoarse call of the sentinel baboons echoed from the black bluffs. on reaching the kraal gideon found that the sheep had been turned out earlier than usual. then he rode to the spring and found it evidenced by the spoor, which lay thick about the water's edge, that the flock had already been watered. wondering at the reason for this manifestation of activity on the part of the usually-lazy hottentot herd, he lit his pipe and stood for a moment or two enjoying the cool shade which surrounded the spring, after the heat of the ride. a slight sound caused him to turn his head and then he saw old gert dragoonder, the herd, step out from the cover behind him. gert had been on the point of falling asleep when his master's arrival had startled him. after ascertaining from the hottentot that the flock of sheep were grazing safely behind the big bluff--well away from the dividing line-- gideon handed over to him his horse and told him to take the animal up to the sheep kraal and fasten it to a bush. the sea-breeze was freshening and he meant, when the air became cooler, to take a turn on foot among the rocks high up on the mountain side, in the hope of getting a shot at a rhebok. gideon lay back under a bush and finished his pipe; then he turned upon his side and fell asleep. he awoke to the sound of a foot step and opened his eyes. before him, on the other side of the spring, he could see stephanus, who had just dismounted from his horse. the animal began to graze, its bridle hung and trailed upon the ground as it wandered on, cropping the herbage, until it crossed the dividing kloof. when the animal had passed well over the boundary gideon arose stealthily, seized his gun and hurried towards the horse with the intention of seizing it. but stephanus, who now noticed his brother for the first time, rushed forward and grappled with him, and the two fell struggling to the ground. stephanus, being slightly the stronger of the two, managed to get gideon under; then he twisted the gun from his adversary's grasp, sprang away to one side and looked back with a mocking smile. stephanus cocked the gun and again looked at gideon who, having risen to his feet, was trembling and livid with rage. stephanus knew that he had the law on his side; it had been laid down in the judgment of the court that although gideon had the right to drive his stock to drink at the spring, he had no right to approach it for any other purpose. up to this not a word had been spoken; gideon was foaming with impotent fury; stephanus, feeling that he was master of the situation, had managed to keep his anger within bounds. "see the jackal caught in his own trap," he tauntingly shouted. "_my_ hottentot wants an old gun to shoot baboons with; this one will just do." "you are nothing but a bastard jackal, yourself," yelled gideon in reply. "you are very brave because you have my gun in your hand; put it down and i will take that dirty beard of yours to stuff my saddle with-- if it would not give the horse a sore back." stephanus, now in a transport of ungovernable fury, flung the gun away from him,--into the scrub,--and sprang towards his brother. but the gun, after crashing through the branches, went off, and gideon fell to the ground with his shoulder torn open by the bullet. stephanus, his anger now completely gone, and feeling as if the events of the past few minutes had completely wiped out the black rancour which had darkened so many years, knelt at the side of his unconscious brother and cut away the coat and shirt from the neighbourhood of the wound. then he tried to staunch the flowing blood with strips of cloth which he tore from his own garments. the wound was a terrible one; the bone had been splintered, and portions of it were visible at the spot where the bullet had emerged. stephanus made balls of moss which he tied up in linen rags and bound over the gaping mouths of the hurt. then he fetched water in his hat from the spring and flung it into the pallid face of the sufferer, who thereupon slowly began to revive. when gideon opened his eyes they rested upon his brother's face for a few seconds without recognition, and then an expression of the most bitter hatred dawned upon his countenance and gradually distorted his features until they became almost unrecognisable. the sound of approaching footsteps was heard, and immediately afterwards gert dragoonder appeared. the hottentot had seen stephanus approach the spring and then, after a short interval, heard the shot, so he returned to see what had happened. when gideon saw gert, he raised himself painfully on the elbow of his uninjured arm and gasped out in a voice horrible to hear:-- "gert--come here--you are my witness--the man, there--my brother--he shot me.--there lies my gun in the bush--he threw it there to hide it--i shall die of this.--go to the field cornet--he tried to murder me--i am already a dead man.--he must hang--" here he fell back once more in a faint stephanus turned to the hottentot who, thinking that his master was dead, was stealing away with the keenest terror depicted on his countenance. "here, gert,--take my horse and ride to the homestead--tell your mistress to send men with poles and sacks, and to send for uncle diederick at once. wait,--when you have told the mistress, ride off yourself on my horse as fast as you can for uncle diederick." uncle diederick was an old boer who lived about half a day's journey away,--to the westward, and who had a reputation which extended all over the country side as a bone-setter and herbalist. the hottentot galloped off, and stephanus again turned to the wounded man, who by this time had recovered consciousness. when gideon's glance again fell upon his brother's face, his features, already twisted by the agony which he endured, took on an expression of diabolical malice, fearful to behold. stephanus spoke gently to him once or twice, asking if he were comfortable, but gideon closed his eyes and maintained an obstinate silence. after about an hour had elapsed a party of people from the homestead arrived, carrying poles, skins and sacks. out of these a litter was soon formed. when gideon was lifted from the ground he groaned in anguish and half-swooned. again he rallied, and his eyes, blazing with hate, fell again upon his brother. "remember"--he gasped--"if i die, he shot me.--there lies my gun--he threw it there to hide it--" gideon insisted on the gun being sought for and removed from the scrub before he was borne away, groaning and cursing, upon the improvised litter. stephanus attempted to accompany him, but was driven away with imprecations. stephanus returned to the spring and sat down on a stone, his head bowed over his clasped hands. he sat in this posture for some time; then he arose, stood erect for a few moments and fell upon his knees. the crisis of his life had come upon him; he stood upon that spiritual eminence from which men see good and evil and must distinguish one from another as clearly as one distinguishes night from day. the tangled sophistry which his mixed motives weave to blind the wrong-doer, who often would fain do right if he but knew how, was cut by the sword to which the apostle of the gentiles likened the word of god. it was his day of judgment; he was the judge, the accuser and the accused. when stephanus van der walt arose from his knees he felt that his sins had fallen from him as the slough falls from a snake when the sun of spring wakens it from its winter sleep. his heart was burning with a deep and fearful joy,--his brain was braced with giants' strength to a sublime resolve. in the exaltation of his newly acquired faith stephanus knew for a certainty that gideon would not die of the accidentally inflicted wound, and he thanked god for the agony that would purge his brother's soul of its share in the mutual sin. then, with head erect and springing steps he wended his way homewards. chapter three. blind elsie. stephanus had two children, both daughters. sons had been born to him but they died in infancy. his elder daughter, sara, was seventeen years of age at the time of the encounter at the spring; elsie, the younger, was eight. she had been blind from her birth. sara was comely to look upon. tall and dark, with strongly marked features, she resembled her father in appearance to a remarkable degree. little elsie took after her mother; she was of fair complexion, with long locks of dead-gold hair which took a wonderful depth of colour in certain half-lights. her eyes were very strange and in no way suggested blindness. they were of a deep steel-blue colour, but in the lights which made her hair wonderful an amber tone would shimmer up through the blue and give forth startling gleams and flashes. this peculiarity was especially noticeable when the child was under the influence of strong excitement. elsie was a silent child and possessed a calm and happy nature. her faculty for finding her way about in the utter darkness in which fate had hopelessly placed her was almost miraculous. strangers, seeing her eyes and noticing the sure and fearless way in which she went abroad, would often doubt the fact of her blindness, but, as a matter of fact, she was incapable of perceiving even the faintest glimmer of light. the soul of this blind child with the sweet inscrutable face, expressed itself in a passionate love for her father, and from the day upon which it came home to the strong, dour, hate-preoccupied man that this being who seemed the very incarnation of sunlight was doomed to walk in darkness all her days, he had wrapped her in a protecting love which was almost the only influence that kept him human, and which was the salvation of his better nature. her touch--the mere flicker of her fragile, pink fingers upon his rugged forehead or his brown hand--would cool, for the time being, his hottest resentment; the renewed hatred born of an encounter with his brother would sink abashed before the unconscious glance of her deep, sightless eyes. when she crept upon his knee and laid her yellow head against his breast it was as though the peace of god were knocking at the door of his heart. elsie possessed intelligence far in advance of her age and circumstances. it seemed as though she never forgot anything that befel her or that she had heard. with a strange, uncanny intuition she would piece together with extraordinary correctness such fragments of disjointed information as she acquired, and thus gain an understanding of matters almost as soon as she became aware of their existence. the blind child's position in the household was a peculiar one. over her father, neither her mother nor her sister had any influence. of late years an almost hopeless estrangement had grownup between stephanus and his wife. sara loved her mother, but for her father she felt little else than fear. he was passionate and violent with all except elsie; with her he was invariably gentle and reasonable. thus it came to pass that elsie became, as it were, the arbiter of the domestic destinies; neither her mother nor her sister ever attempting to direct her. for several years she had been a law unto herself as well as to the household. few children could have stood this and remained unspoilt; in elsie's case strength seemed to come with the strain. when stephanus returned home after the encounter with gideon he found the blind child waiting for him under a large mulberry tree. this was her accustomed trysting-place; here elsie would sit for hours when her father was away, waiting, with the pathetic patience of the blind, for his return. she advanced to meet him, guided by the sound of his footsteps, and took his hand. "father,--why are you so late--and where is your horse?" "late," he repeated, musingly--"yes, it is late, but not too late." the child's intuitive sense prevented her from questioning further. the two walked silently towards the house. elsie was puzzled; for the first time she was conscious of something in her father which she not only could not understand--but which filled her with wonder and dread. at supper stephanus, contrary to his wont, ate but little. none of the others spoke to him. it was the custom of the household for all to refrain from speech in stephanus' presence whenever the feud reached one of its crises. supper over stephanus arose and left the room. elsie followed him; she took his hand and led him to the mulberry tree, at the foot of which a rough bench had been made out of the debris of a superannuated wagon. stephanus sat down and elsie seated herself upon his knee. then she passed her hands softly over his face, as though reading his features with her finger tips. "father--you are not angry--but what has happened? i cannot read your face." "angry--no, my child; i shall never more be angry." "strange--you seemed to have changed to-day; your voice has got so soft and your hand throbs. your face"--here she again passed her hands softly over his features--"feels happy--although you are not smiling." "my child,--one does not smile when one is happiest. yes i am happy, for god has forgiven me my sins and whitened my heart." "_do_ you no longer hate uncle gideon?" "no, my child--all that is past." elsie sat silently nestled against her father's side until long after the others had gone to rest. the soft touch of the night wind made the leaves of the mulberry tree whisper as with a thousand tongues. to stephanus they seemed as the tongues of angels welcoming him to his place among the saved. to blind elsie they sang that the feud which had made her father's life full of trouble was at an end; that he and she were happy together under the stars which she had never seen. happiness seemed to descend upon her like a dove. its poignancy fatigued her so that she sank to sleep. chapter four. uncle diederick. uncle diederick lived in a structure known in south africa as a "hartebeeste house." such a structure suggests a house of cards in its most rudimentary form--when one card is laid against another and thus an edifice like roof without walls is formed. the house looked indeed like a roof with a very high pitch, from under which the walls had sunk away until it rested on the ground. thickly thatched, and closed by a vertical wall at the end opposite the door, it was very warm in cold weather and, in spite of the want of ventilation, fairly cool in the heat of summer. the end farthest from the door was fitted up with shelving, and the shelves were loaded with bundles of dried plants and jars, filled with tinctures, infusions and decoctions. in front of the shelves stood a table and a bench,--the former bearing an ordinary pair of grocers' scales, and an immense volume which the sage always referred to before prescribing. this volume was a translation into dutch of a collection of herbalistic lore published in italy in the sixteenth century; it was looked upon by uncle diederick's numerous customers with almost as much respect as the bible. uncle diederick, judging from the extent of his practice, ought to have made a fortune,--and he probably would have done so had he been paid for his services in cash instead of in kind. he was really a useful personage and saved many a life. his absorbing taste for medicine and surgery--joined to his undoubted natural ability, would have made him a successful if not an eminent practitioner had he had the necessary training. when a boy he had obtained possession of an old book upon anatomy, and from this he gained a fair general knowledge of the human frame. later he acquired a manual of simple surgery and another of household medicine (as practiced in the eighteenth century), and upon these was founded his professional eminence. these books were kept strictly in the background, their size and binding not being impressive, but the old italian herbal was invariably referred to in the presence of the patient before diagnosis was completed. even at this day every boer woman in the outlying districts who has reached the age of forty, considers herself competent to treat all of the ills that flesh is heir to. her pharmacopoeia is a limited one, consisting, as it does, of some seven or eight drugs, all more or less violent in their effects upon the human organism. in her choice of these in prescribing she is guided solely by her intuitions. a century ago the number and quantity of drugs at her disposal was more limited, and therefore the mortality from this cause was less than at the present day. but uncle diederick was a quack of a different class. he knew well enough that in a large number of cases the best chance of recovery lay in leaving nature quite to herself. like paracelsus, however, he had to live down to the prejudices of his age. many a bulky bottle of nasty but innocuous mixture did he prescribe to amplitudinous _tanta_ or corpulent _oom_, whose only complaint was the natural result of too much exercise of the jaw-bones and too little of the arms and legs. the old women looked upon uncle diederick with jealousy, but they could not help admitting that in surgery, at all events, he was far their superior. in the case of a broken limb or a wound from a bushman's poisoned arrow he was the first person thought of,--if the accident occurred within a radius of a hundred miles of his dwelling. many a miserable sufferer has been brought to the "hartebeeste house" from distances that entailed a week's travelling over wretched roads in a jolting wagon. in medicine uncle diederick did not by any means stick to the orthodox pharmacopoeia; he supplemented the few crude drugs in general use by a number of decoctions and infusions of different herbs, the properties of which he had learnt from hottentots and captive bushmen,--with whom he often managed to make friends. as the effect of these remedies was quite equal in violence to that of those in common use, and as there was an added element of mystery about them, uncle diederick's treatment was generally popular. the boer does not believe in any medicine which is not administered in large doses and which does not act as a kind of physiological earthquake upon the invalid. uncle diederick was a widower with an only daughter. he had lost his wife soon after marriage, and, contrary to the general custom, had not remarried. jacomina, his daughter, was a comely damsel of seventeen, whose keen and practical interest in her father's pursuits boded a terrible future for her prospective husband and family. it was she who presided, like another medea, over the brewing of the decoctions; it was she who neatly bound up and carefully stored away the different kinds of dried herbs from which these decoctions were made. in fact she knew almost as much as her father did about the healing art. where she shone brightest, however, was in collecting payment for her father's services. many suitors had laid their hearts at jacomina's substantial feet, while she, on her part, cherished a passion for the handsome, melancholy adrian van der walt, gideon's son. adrian likewise admired her, but his diffidence kept him from definitely telling her so, or doing more than gaze at her in deep but hopeless admiration whenever he thought himself unobserved in her company. for many months jacomina had put forth all her arts to bring adrian to the proposing point, but his unconquerable shyness always stood in the way of the desired result. at a distance adrian was brave enough, but in the presence of his beloved his courage fled. on several occasions he had pretended to be ill in order to have an excuse for visiting the "hartebeeste house," when the nasty decoctions he received from the hands of jacomina tasted as sweet as nectar. one day uncle diederick was sitting just inside the door of his dwelling engaged in the commonplace occupation of mending his saddle. from the road behind the kopje at the foot of which he dwelt came the rattle and rumble of an approaching wagon. he at once hid the saddle in a corner under a sheep skin, went over to his table, opened the herbal volume and began poring over its pages. it was thus that he was usually found by his patients. jacomina was on the watch. shortly after the wagon came in sight she put her head in through the doorway. "pa,--it is aunt emerencia's wagon; she is sure to be coming for some more medicine for her _benaudheid_." aunt emerencia descended from the wagon through the back opening of the tent by means of a short and strongly built ladder and, leaning heavily on a stick, approached the "hartebeeste" house. she was a stout woman with a very pale face, the flesh of which seemed loose and flabby. jacomina felt the strongest animosity towards the visitor, who was a widow and was suspected of harbouring matrimonial designs upon uncle diederick. after a friendly but breathless greeting aunt emerencia sat down on a stool and, being fatigued and warm from the exertion of walking up the slope from the wagon, pulled off her _cappie_ and began fanning herself with it. after a few minutes uncle diederick came forward briskly. he sat down, asked jacomina to go and brew some coffee, and then, in his most sprightly manner, began talking to and complimenting his visitor. "no, no,--uncle," she replied, deprecatingly, to some flattering remarks on his part,--"although i may be looking well, i am very, very sick. being on my way to brother sarel's i thought i would outspan here and get some medicine." "that's right--i am glad to see you, even though you are not well.--but a cup of coffee will do you good." "yes,--i will be glad to drink a cup, uncle. i have brought you a couple of pumpkins which you will be glad to have; they are from some new seed which jan niekerk got from stellenbosch last year." jacomina, afraid to leave her father for long alone with the suspected siren, kept darting in and out between the stages of the coffee-making. "jacomina, my child," she said in a wheezy aside, "call to the _schepsel_ and tell him to bring in two of the biggest pumpkins." then she turned to uncle diederick: "uncle, i am sick, very sick. after i eat my heart goes just like an old churn--and i dream--_alle wereld_, how i dream. last night i dreamt that nimrod built the tower of babel on my chest." just then a small hottentot came staggering in with two immense pumpkins, which he laid on the floor; then he went and stood just outside the door. uncle diederick cast a careless eye upon them, smiled almost imperceptibly, and then began very deliberately, to light his pipe. "are these not beautiful pumpkins?" asked aunt emerencia. "they are fairly large; but i am surprised at nephew jan taking the trouble to bring that kind of seed all the way from the cape. there is plenty of the same kind here." "truly?" she said in a tone of injured surprise. then she called to the hottentot, who, mindful of previous experiences, had remained close at hand. "here, _schepsel_,--bring in a bottle of that honey from the front chest. yes, uncle,--you would not believe how i have suffered since i finished that last medicine i had from you. this bottle of honey is from the bees' nest piet took out from the _dassie's_ krantz last week." the honey was placed alongside the pumpkins. uncle diederick did not even take the trouble to glance at it. he went on silently puffing at his pipe. "don't you like honey, uncle?" "yes,--but it is very plentiful this year, and i am tired of it." aunt emerencia groaned audibly. "_schepsel_,--fetch that new pair of _veldschoens_ from the side-bag." "yes," she continued, addressing uncle diederick--"and you would not believe what a pain i get here, just below my breast. these drops i got from aunt susannah did me no good whatever." in the meantime jacomina was busy trying on the _veldschoens_, which turned out to be by no means badly made. uncle diederick continued smoking, calmly and silently. "do they fit, my child?" he asked without turning his head. "yes, pa,--they fit well." at once uncle diederick laid down his pipe and began attending to his patient. he felt her pulse; he thumped, prodded and sounded her until she groaned and grunted. she was a woman who, for nearly thirty years, had eaten and drunk largely, and who never took the least exertion that she could avoid. her malady, from which she chronically suffered, was simply indigestion in an acute form. "here, aunt,--take half a cupful of this whenever you feel bad." he took down from the shelf a large black flask, which had originally contained gin, and handed it to the invalid, who grasped it greedily. "uncle,--these _veldschoens_ are a beautiful pair.--this bottle holds so few doses and i get sick very often." uncle diederick had returned to his seat and his pipe. he took not the slightest notice of what aunt emerencia said. she, knowing by experience that there was no chance of screwing another bottle out of the physician, arose with the apparent intention of taking her departure. but first she tried another move. "_alle wereld_," she said in anguished tones, putting her hand to her side at the same time--"here is the pain again; can you not give me a dose now, uncle?" "yes, aunt,--certainly. jacomina, bring me a corkscrew and a cup." these implements were soon brought and placed upon the table. uncle diederick took the corkscrew and approached the sufferer. "come, aunt--give me the bottle and i will open it for you." "but, uncle,--i do not like to open the bottle whilst on the road. it is so liable to spill." uncle diederick returned to his chair, the inscrutability of his visage somewhat modified by a palpable wink. aunt emerencia, after a few supplementary groans, stated that she felt a little better and would defer taking a dose until another bad attack came on. then she took her ponderous course back to her wagon. the sun was nearly down when the clattering hoofs of a galloping horse was heard on the road. a few minutes afterwards gert dragoonder dismounted, and, without waiting to remove the saddle from his smoking horse, hastened to the door of the "hartebeeste house." "well, _schepsel_," said uncle diederick, "it is easy to see that you have been riding your master's horse. for how far has the devil been chasing you?" "baas must hasten," replied the hottentot, breathlessly, "or it will be too late. my master has got a bullet in the shoulder and he has bled plenty." "a bullet in the shoulder--that's bad. what an accident! let's see,-- to which of the loving brothers do you belong?" "baas gideon is my baas. but it was not an accident; baas stephanus shot my baas with his own gun." uncle diederick gave a long, low whistle. "well, i always said it would come to murder between those two. here, danster,--saddle up my horse. is the bone broken?" "the bone is coming out in big lumps," said gert, with the exaggerative rhetoric of his race, "he has lost about a bucketful of blood and there is a hole in his shoulder you could put your fist into. baas must make haste and bring his very best medicine." "h'm.--if all that is true, it is the field cornet that they should have instead of me. however, i suppose i must go." by this time the horse had been driven into the little kraal at the side of the homestead. uncle diederick went to the shelf and took down a few bottles, bundles of dried herbs and bandages. then he selected from a camphor-wood chest a few home-made splints and rough surgical appliances. all these he packed carefully into his saddle-bags. after bidding a very matter-of-fact farewell to jacomina, and telling the hottentot to rest his horse for the night and return home quietly next day, he started on his long, lonely ride. chapter five. the triumph of gideon. gideon, suffering great agony, had been carried home and laid upon his bed. he adhered firmly to the false accusation which he had brought against his brother, and the whole world, or that portion of it which knew the van der walts, believed in stephanus' guilt. the field cornet, who lived only some twenty miles away, was sent for, and arrived during the night. he took down the wounded man's statement in writing and then went over and arrested stephanus. when the written statement was read over in stephanus' presence to the wounded man, he adhered to it still and, having by that time somewhat rallied from the shock, gave a supplementary account of what had transpired in such clear, circumstantial and deadly detail, that all present were convinced of its truth. stephanus maintained absolute silence. uncle diederick did his duty as well, and probably as successfully, as if he had been a member of the royal college of surgeons. after removing every splinter of bone and carefully cleansing the gaping wound, he laid a cooling, antiseptic compost of herbs all over the injured parts. as gideon's constitution was perfectly clean and healthy, he made a rapid recovery. the shoulder joint was, however, so seriously injured, that the arm was henceforth of little use. marta and sara were thrown into terrible distress by the arrest of stephanus. elsie, taking her impressions of the situation from her father's mental state, retained her serenity, but was puzzled at the turn things had taken. stephanus remained quite unmoved when the field cornet announced that he would have to make him a prisoner and take him to cape town, there to await his trial. a day's delay, to enable him to put his affairs in order, was all that he asked for. this was granted, so he counted his sheep and cattle, assembled his servants,--whom he made promise to serve their mistress faithfully during his absence,--and wrote to the husband of his eldest sister to ask that his nephew, a lad of seventeen, whose services had recently been offered to him, might be sent to assist in managing the farm. the letter was sent off by a special messenger, as his brother-in-law lived only a little more than a day's journey away. the field cornet having acquainted marta with the main facts of the case, she shared in the general belief in her husband's guilt. on the evening before stephanus' departure for prison, the family sat down to their last meal together, and at its conclusion stephanus did a thing which he had left undone for years past: he called upon those assembled to kneel down and pray. then he offered up a petition that god might forgive him his many misdeeds and grant him and all present patience to bear whatever punishment might be justly meted out to him. elsie then took his hand and the two went out to the seat under the mulberry tree, where they sat until half the night was spent. few words passed between them, and the parting which was to take place on the morrow was hardly referred to. the unhappy women broke down completely at the leave-taking in the grey of the early morning. stephanus maintained his composure until it came to bidding farewell to elsie. the child clung to him convulsively, and her clasp had to be detached by force. then the father's anguish was terrible to behold. the trial took place at the criminal sessions of the supreme court in cape town, some four months afterwards. the prisoner's family went down in their wagon to be present at it. gideon gave his false evidence with composure, and gert dragoonder, the hottentot, corroborated him strongly. stephanus pleaded "not guilty," but otherwise made no defence. when the court found him guilty not a muscle of his face betrayed the least emotion. after the judge had sentenced him to be imprisoned for ten years with hard labour, he quietly remarked that he had been justly punished. when he was removed from court it was noticed by those present who knew him that his step had a spring and his eyes a brightness which had never been noticed before. gideon enjoyed one wild moment of exultation when his brother was led away to a living grave. then he turned to leave the court-room, from which the people were emerging in a struggling crowd,--the trial just concluded having closed the proceedings for the day. in the vestibule he stood aside to let the congested crowd flow past. a woman whose bent head was concealed in a long "cappie," and who led a young girl by the hand, was forced against him. the child, frightened by the crowd, seized his hand and held it fast. when the crush slackened he turned, looked down, and found himself gazing into the glowing, sightless eyes of little elsie, the blind girl he had damned his soul to orphan. then he glanced up and met the eyes of the woman whom he loved still, although he had not seen her face for years. there was something different to the reproach he expected in her look; he seemed to read in it an appeal for forgiveness of the wrong which she imagined her husband had done him, and to see the flicker of a love answering his own, which filled him with dismay. the mute appeal in her eyes was worse than any reproach could have been, and the fact that his perjury had made her worse than widowed seemed to crush him to the earth. in another moment marta and elsie had followed the last of the crowd and gideon found himself alone. then the nobility of the mien of the man whom, innocent, he had sent forth to a doom more sorrowful than death came back to his mind with such dread distinctness that it excluded everything else. suddenly it seemed all unreal;--could it be a dream? no--there was the court-room--he could see it through the open doorway before which he was standing. he stepped forward on tip-toe and looked in. involuntarily his eye sought the prisoners' dock--the spot where his twin-brother had stood with rapt, unmoved face and heard the pronouncement of his doom. his strained brain easily conjured up the figure in all its menacing nobility, and before the vision he felt abased to the dust. had there been another human creature present, gideon would have cried aloud a confession of his sin, but he stood alone with the hideousness of his own transgression. then a reaction set in and he staggered from the room grasping wildly at the shred of comfort which lay in the realisation of the fact that the man whom he had hated through so many bitter years had now been taken out of his life. a strange duality was set up in his consciousness:--it seemed as though the man he had seen undergoing sentence, although still his brother, was no longer the stephanus who had used him so despitefully. thus his mind was buffeted hither and thither by a gusty storm of conflicting emotions. so the long-looked-forward-to triumph of gideon van der walt sank foully smouldering upon its own ashes, and he entered into that hell out of which there is seldom redemption. chapter six. gideon and marta. night had almost fallen when gideon reached his homestead on the seventh day after the trial. he had been, throughout the whole journey, a prey to the keenest misery. in the short and broken sleep which visited his distracted brain the image of stephanus as he had last seen him, haunted his dreams. the dauntless mien and the noble courage with which his brother had met his doom; the puzzled, pathetic expression upon the face of the blind child; the belated revelation of love combined with a terrifying appeal for forgiveness which he had read in the face of the woman for whom his passion had never died, swept over the field of his consciousness like clouds across a storm-swept sky. he felt no remorse for what he had done; on the contrary, his inability to enjoy the revenge he had long panted for, was the cause of redoubled resentment against his enemy. after greeting his family with forced cheerfulness, gideon drank a cup of coffee and at once retired to bed, saying that he felt fatigued after his long journey. his wife, aletta, was not deceived by his demeanour, but there was that in his face which caused her to forbear asking any questions. next morning gideon tried to avoid everybody, and it was not until midday that aletta contrived to satisfy her painful suspense in regard to the result of the trial. he was then standing at the back of the wagon-house with bent head and an air of painful preoccupation. he did not hear her approaching footsteps. when she laid a hesitating hand upon his arm he started as though he had been struck, and looked at her with troubled eyes. "gideon," she said in a low and hurried tone--"tell me about stephanus." "the wolf is in a trap," he said with a savage laugh--"for ten long years he will have to bite the door before it opens." "ten years"--repeated aletta in an awed whisper--"_poor_ stephanus; i did not think it would have gone so hard with him." "aletta," he broke out wrathfully, "are you taking the part of this wolf--this jackal in a man's skin, against me?" "no--no--gideon,--i do not take his part;--but ten years is such a long time.--and i was thinking of marta and the children; they will never see him again." "and a good thing too. the murdering wild beast should have been hanged." in reality the wives of the brothers had, all through the weary course of the feud, been inclined to take the parts of their respective brothers-in-law against their husbands. each, brought into daily contact with the black rancour displayed by her husband, had thought that the feeling could not possibly be so bad on the other side. weary as had been the days to aletta and adrian, those which followed were wearier still. a black cloud seemed to brood over the household. no one ever smiled. each avoided the eyes of the others as though fearful of what the eyes might read or reveal. at each cheerless meal the silent, invisible presence of stephanus seemed to take its seat; in the brightest sunlight its shadow seemed to darken the house. more than once aletta had been on the point of suggesting that advances might be made to marta in her loneliness, but gideon had lately got into the habit of bursting into such fury on the slightest provocation, that aletta was afraid of irritating him and held her peace. gideon, also, had more than once thought of going to visit his sister-in-law, but the dread of again meeting what he had read in her eyes on the day of the trial held him back. it was currently known that marta was in bad health and that uncle diederick had been called in to prescribe for her more than once. thus the weary days dragged on through three weary years, but the stricken household kept no count of time. in material things gideon prospered. each season the years came with unusual regularity, and his flocks and herds increased until he became rich among his fellows. one day two figures were seen approaching from the direction of stephanus' homestead. they turned out to be those of the blind girl, elsie, and a very diminutive bushman lad named kanu, who had grown up on the farm. kanu had been captured as a child, years before, in the course of an exterminating raid upon some bushman depredators at their stronghold in an almost inaccessible part of the roggeveld mountains. kanu was about sixteen years of age. from her early childhood he had devoted himself to the service of the blind girl; at last his devotion had grown to positive worship. in kanu's company elsie would wander far and wide, over mountain and plain, in perfect safety. the bushman had picked up a smattering of dutch, but still spoke his own tongue fluently, for there were a number of semi-domesticated bushman servants on the farm--captives from different raids. such raids were, no doubt, sometimes rendered necessary by the plundering propensities of the pygmy sons of ishmael, but there was another side of the question:-- where bushmen were plentiful the boers did not, as a rule, find it necessary to purchase slaves. the blind child was led by her guide to the front door of the house, which stood open. the day was hot and the family were sitting at table, trying to hurry through their dismal midday meal. elsie crossed the threshold without knocking and stood at her uncle's side. her hair hung below her waist in a rich, yellow mass, and her eyes gleamed as they always did under the influence of excitement, and in appropriate light. the three sitting at the table sat and gazed at her in silent and startled surprise. "uncle gideon," she said in a clear, piercing voice. "well," said gideon in a voice of forced roughness, "what do you want?" "my mother bids me tell you that she is dying, and that you must come to her at once." gideon rose to his feet, his face twitching. elsie slowly turned, held out her hand for the guiding twig which kanu extended to her, and stepped swiftly forth. within the space of a few minutes gideon sprang on a horse and galloped off in the direction of the homestead where the woman he loved lay dying. marta sent one of the servants to fetch a span of oxen, and soon followed her husband, in a wagon. when gideon arrived at marta's homestead he could at once see that directions had been given as to the details of his reception. as he ascended the steep flight of steps which led to the _voorkuis_ the door swayed open and revealed the weeping figure of sara, his niece. walking on tip-toe she beckoned to him to follow her, and led the way to an inner room, the door of which stood ajar. gideon entered, every nerve in his body tingling with apprehension. sara softly closed the door behind him, and then he heard her retreating footsteps upon the clay floor of the passage. the dying woman lay propped up in bed, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted in a smile of loving welcome. she looked, for the moment, not more than twenty years of age. her face carried gideon back to the spring morning of long ago, when he met her for the first time, walking under the budding oaks of the stellenbosch street. with a last, pathetic effort of coquetry, the poor remnant of her once-beautiful hair was spread over her shoulder. her hand appeared for an instant from under the bed-clothes; it looked like the hand of a skeleton in a livid glove. gideon stood for a space looking into the smiling eyes of the woman whom he loved and sunning himself in their dying glow. the soiled years seemed to shrivel away like a burnt-up scroll, the past lived again in a borrowed glamour of lost joy that had never existed and his withered heart expanded like a rose in summer. with a long-drawn sigh he sank to his knees at the side of the bed and pressed his lips hurriedly upon the tress of silky hair; then he drew hurriedly back, startled at his own temerity. marta turned her head slightly until she could see his face. her eyes became softer with the dew of happiness and a smile hovered upon her lips. then she spoke: "listen--i am dying;--will you take my children and care for them?" gideon could not speak; he nodded his head and she proceeded: "i only knew you loved me when it was too late... i waited for you to speak--then they said that you loved someone else--" gideon's brain was busy recalling the long-past. every obscure detail of the days of his brother's courtship and his own bitter disappointment came back to him with strange distinctness. how had the misunderstanding arisen; who was to blame?--"stephanus always hated you and i loved you all the time--aletta need not know--i only tell you now that i am dying--" gideon tenderly took the wasted hand and laid it against his rugged cheek. "my children--i love them--let them not suffer for their father's sin--" "wait, marta," said gideon in a strained and trembling voice, "i must tell you--" "there is nothing to tell--i know it all.--he got to know i loved you and he tried to kill you.--forgive him, if you can, for my sake--" "wait, marta,--i must tell you the truth--you are wrong--i must tell you the truth, even if it kills us both." the dying woman's lips became compressed, and the colour began to fade from her cheeks. gideon tried to move so that her eyes, full of startled interrogatory and the pain of apprehension, might not rest upon his face whilst he made his confession, but they followed and held his spell-bound. then in a hoarse, broken murmur he said: "stephanus shot me by accident--i accused him falsely--because i hated him all my life." when he ceased speaking he drooped his head and hid his face among the bed-clothes next to marta's shoulder. a slight shudder went through the woman's frame and then she ceased to breathe. gideon kept his head bowed for a long time. when, by a torturing effort he lifted it, he saw a dead, ashen face lying on the pillow at his side,--the face of an old woman who seemed to have died in sharp agony. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ when gideon left the chamber of death he moved like a man in a dream. mounting his horse mechanically he allowed the animal to stray homewards at a walk. he met the wagon in which aletta was hurrying to the death-bed as fast as the team of oxen could bring her, but he passed it without recognition. the pathway led past the spring, the scene of the three-years' past tragedy. the day was hot and the horse turned, aside to drink as was its wont. it was not until the animal paused and bent its head to the water that the rider recognised the locality. he was quite calm and the environment in which he found himself seemed appropriate to his mood. he dismounted when the horse had finished drinking, led it away to a spot where it could graze, a few paces distant, and then returned to the water-side. he went over the whole scene anew. there was the spot where he had sat sleeping; he stepped over and sat there again, in the same attitude. there stephanus had approached through the bushes; yonder was the place where the struggle for possession of the gun had taken place and where he had ignominiously sunk to the ground beneath his brother's superior strength. a little to the right was the green tussock upon which stephanus, after wrenching the gun from his grasp, had stood and looked insulting defiance at him. he recalled the face which bore such a detestable resemblance to his own, and remembered its look of triumphant hate. he recalled the taunting words that stephanus had uttered and his own insulting reply. again he felt the sickening torture of the crashing bullet tearing through flesh and bone. involuntarily he lifted quickly the half-crippled limb; a torturing twinge shot through it and almost made him scream. his thoughts swung back--searching among the mists of old memory for a clue to the one that had wrecked his life by telling falsehoods about him to the woman he loved, and who, he now knew for the first time, had loved him. who could it be? none but the brother whose life he had been fool enough to save and who had always been his evil genius. the scene he had just lived through was too recent for him to take in its full significance. he knew that he had caused marta's death by his confession--which he now bitterly regretted having made, and he wondered if they should meet in the next world whether she would hate him for what he had done. he had left the house of death with the full intention of confessing his transgression and expiating it in the fullest manner. it was not that he had made any resolution to this effect, but rather that a full confession, with its consequences, seemed to be the only possible outcome of what had happened. now, however, he determined to maintain silence. it was not that he dreaded the consequences of a confession to himself--his life was too full of misery for him to dread that--but rather that his somewhat waning hate of his brother had been reinforced by marta's words, and he could not bring himself to abate a jot of that brother's bondage. had it been possible to confess his sin without benefiting stephanus by so doing, he felt that he would have told his tale to the first human creature he met, were it only a bushman. he had saved his brother's life; it was not much, after all, to demand ten years of that life for the exigencies of his revenge. stephanus, of course, deserved his punishment richly. what business had he to interfere with the gun at all? every despiteful act,--every provocative detail, every maddening annoyance to which stephanus had subjected him during the long, hate-blackened years of the feud, came back and grinned at him. he found himself wondering whether anybody had been listening at the door when he made his confession, and the sudden dread of this contingency took precedence of every other consideration for the time. well,--if he had been overheard he would abide by the result and make a full confession; if not his lips should remain sealed. after the funeral, which gideon attended with outward calmness, aletta remained at the homestead for a few days arranging for the removal of the two girls. uncle diederick, who had been called in professionally, but had arrived on the scene after marta's death, said a simple prayer over the grave which was dug on the hill-side just behind the homestead. sara was convulsed with grief, but elsie hardly shed a tear. she and her mother had always been strangers; now the blind child's utter ignorance of convention kept her from feigning a grief she did not feel. gideon's mind was now so far relieved, that he had no longer the fear of anyone having overheard his confession. uncle diederick arranged to come and live at stephanus' farm and manage it for the benefit of the two children, until stephanus' release from prison. accordingly, the "hartebeeste house" was abandoned--jacomina having, in the meantime, carefully packed up all the drugs, herbs and surgical appliances in boxes and skin bags, and placed them in the wagon. thus, within a week of marta's death uncle diederick and his daughter were settled in their new dwelling. for months afterwards weary invalids from a distance continued to arrive at the "hartebeeste house" and to learn to their dismay that the physician had departed and left no address. chapter seven. how gideon wandered, and how elsie overheard his prayer. at the period at which the action of this story is laid the only settled parts of the cape colony lay well to the south of the rugged mountain chain, the eastern portion of which is called the "roggeveld" or "rye land." it was in a valley which cleft the range that the farm of the van der walts was situated. the boer has ever been intolerant of near neighbours; he likes to feel that the utmost expanse his glance can sweep over is his, to use or neglect as suits him. he has a great objection to any habitation being within sight of his homestead. for centuries the government tried to prevent the expansion of the colony to a distance from the central authority at cape town, but the efforts were as useless as though one were to try to control quicksilver on a slanting board with the hand. the enactment of the most stringent laws was of no avail to prevent the more adventurous spirits from seeking their fortune in the vast, mysterious hinterland. such men looked upon the heathen as their inheritance and on the wilderness as their portion. steadfast in his narrow faith, tenacious as steel to his limited purpose, valiant as any crusader that charged the saracens on the plains of palestine, the primitive boer was of the texture of the strongest of the sons of the earth. such a typical boer was tyardt van der waldt, the father of stephanus and gideon. he had come to this lonely valley down which the yet-unpolluted tanqua stream flowed through its waving sedges,--far beyond the camp of the boldest pioneer. his wagon was his castle of strength; he trusted in the lord of hosts, and he kept his powder religiously dry. he found hill and valley stocked with the great beasts of the desert, and on the blood of these he slaked his nature's needs, thanking god for the draught. upon the mountain side roamed the noble eland; in the thorny copses the stately koodoo herded,--wild cattle with which providence had stocked the pasture for his use. here was his canaan. more fortunate than moses, he possessed it,--whilst vigour yet thrilled his foot and hand. at night the deep-rumbling growl of the marauding lion would be heard in the scrub below the cattle-kraal, and the trembling touch of wife and children as they clung to him, made the strong man rejoice in his strength. every considerable mountain-cave harboured his amalekite, the bushman,--and him he hewed in pieces before the lord whenever opportunity offered. to the northward of the roggeveld the wide and usually waterless plains of what is yet known as bushmanland stretched away indefinitely. arid as these plains are, and apparently always have been, they supported an enormous amount of animal life. many of the larger fauna of south africa can exist for an indefinite time without drinking; some, such as the gemsbok or oryx, can dispense with it altogether, owing to the instinct which teaches them to dig for succulent tubers in the arid sand dunes, from the surface of which every vestige of vegetation may have disappeared. many a time had tyardt van der walt trekked over the mountain chain with his wagon and penetrated a few days' journey into the waste. then he would return with a load of game of kinds different from those found among the mountains. a sense of danger, which is the salt of life to some natures, lent zest to these expeditions. this danger was by no means imaginary; the bones of many an adventurous boer have been gnawed by the jackals of bushmanland. gideon had, as a boy, accompanied his father upon some of the later of these expeditions. now, when his load of unrecognised remorse hung heavily upon him, he sighed his tired soul towards the vast and vague unknown which lay, rich in the glamour of the unknown and the mysterious, beyond the frowning mountain rampart. there, he had come to think, peace must surely have her habitation; into that solitude the ghosts of men and things could not follow. he put his wagon in order, loaded it with provisions and ammunition enough to last for several months, and went forth into the wilderness. aletta, reminiscent of disasters, opposed the idea, but gideon was not to be withheld from his purpose. the mind of the unhappy wife, in whose heart love for her husband still dwelt, in spite of half a lifetime of neglect, was full of apprehension. many were the current tales of boers who had gone northward upon hunting trips, as her husband was now about to go, and who never again had been heard of. lured by the fugacious verdure upon the shining track of some vagrant thunderstorm which had filled the "pans" with water, and made them look like silver shields strewn upon some tourney-field of the gods, they had ventured farther and farther, forgetting that the thirsty sun was busy behind them, drinking up the moisture and cutting off their retreat. other narratives told of cheerful camp-fires with men sitting around them, tired after a long day's hunting. suddenly would come a silent flight of deadly arrows. then would the fires be hurriedly quenched, and a volley fired at random into the darkness in the vain hope of smiting a foe as subtle as a serpent, as nimble as a swallow and as noiseless as a ghost. afterwards the homeward struggle of a few desperate survivors,-- those still unwounded trying to alleviate the agony of their dying comrades, well knowing that their every step would be doggedly followed by an implacable enemy, seeking a fitting opportunity of inflicting further slaughter by the same cruel means. however, after gideon's departure, life at elandsfontein took on a deep peacefulness. the reaction from the constant dread of violence on gideon's part was such a relief that something like happiness seemed as though it were about to dawn upon the stricken home. aletta learned, to her surprise, that the domestic relations in stephanus' household had never been satisfactory. bit by bit she learned from sara things which threw a strange light upon marta's home life. it appeared that for the past two years marta had not been right in her mind. she had been in the habit of sitting silent and alone for days together, not answering when spoken to, and refusing to eat. ever since her husband's conviction she had manifested the strongest objection to his name being mentioned. this had naturally had the effect of estranging elsie completely from her. even sara, to whom the mother had formerly been passionately attached, had recently been treated with indifference. the two girls now seemed to find in the woman who had always hitherto been lonely, what they had missed in their own mother. aletta had always felt the greatest pity for stephanus; knowing, as she did, the provocation he had sustained, and the rancour gideon had shown. a sympathetic bond was thus set up between the three, and the ever-present sorrow was shorn of some of its more painful features. insensibly elsie became the centre of the household. she was now twelve years of age. in spite of the fact that her intellect as well as her intuitions had developed to a strange and almost unnatural extent, her stature and features were still those of a very young child. with her pallid and spiritual countenance, and her yellow hair hanging in a thick mass below her waist, the blind girl with the wonderful eyes startled and impressed all who saw her, and seemed, in her rugged surroundings, like a being from another world. elsie's aunt and sister seemed to take a pride in decking out her strange beauty with whatever they could obtain in the way of simple finery, such as infrequent wandering hawkers brought to the lonely homestead. even in those days traders used to wander over the land with wagons loaded with simple necessaries, and there always was a box full of such things as women take delight in, the contents of which were looked upon almost with awe by the simple daughters of the wilderness. the best material in the simple stock would be purchased for elsie's dress;--the brightest ribbon for her hair. kanu, the bushman, was still her guide as she wandered about at will. he would have long since followed the fashion of his kind and fled back to the wilderness that gave him birth had it not been for his attachment to elsie. one characteristic of the blind child was that she was utterly fearless. she seemed to dread nothing. one thing alone seemed to cause her any uneasiness:--the hoarse roaring of the baboons with which the black rocks that crowned the mountains on either side of the tanqua valley abounded. she seemed to read a menace in the guttural tones, and a pained expression could be noticed upon her face whenever they were heard. gideon returned safely after an absence of four months. his expedition had been successful in some respects; he had slaughtered much game; he had brought back all his cattle and horses. but the peace he had gone to seek had eluded him. in the daytime, whenever the divine rage of the chase was upon him, he would almost forget the past,--but at night, which is the season in which those who love the desert feel the full force of its mysterious and almost rapturous calm, the memory of his sin hovered over him like a bat and kept sleep and rest from his tired soul. sometimes he would seem to catch glimpses of the sad face of the peace-angel hovering pityingly afar,--desiring but unable to succour him from his tormentor. after he had spent a month or two at the farm gideon again became violently restless. elsie's presence seemed to cause him keen discomfort. when he spoke, as he seldom did whenever he could maintain silence, the sightless eyes of the child would train themselves upon his face, until the guilty man found himself overcome by a sense of inquietude which drove him away from the range of the accusing look. a party of restless spirits visited elandsfontein on their way northward in search of adventure and large game. gideon at once made up his mind to join them. he had been wishing for another opportunity of getting away, but had dreaded going again alone. the shadow of the feud had caused an estrangement between himself and the neighbouring farmers such as made it impossible for him to join any of the hunting parties got up from time to time among his acquaintances. but these people were strangers; the occasion offered the very opportunity he had sought. the hunters were poor, their cattle and horses were of inferior quality and their stores were meagre. gideon was rich, and his joining the expedition suited the strangers as well as it suited him. so gideon van der walt once more set his course towards the wilderness, in the vain hope of finding the footsteps of peace. nearly a year elapsed before he returned; he looked then at least five years older than when he had started. he had penetrated farther into the wilderness than any european had previously done, and his course could almost have been followed from the whitening bones of the game he had slaughtered. but the boundless desert had proved to be as close a prison to his guilty soul as the valley where stood his home. he had quarrelled with his companions and came home alone. but almost immediately the old restlessness fell upon him, and he longed anew for the wastes. this time, however, he would go alone. he blamed his companions for most of the dissatisfactions of his last excursion. it was springtime when he returned; he would go forth once more when the first thunderstorms trailed over the desert. perhaps peace dwelt farther away than he had yet reached. he would find her dwelling even if to do so he had to traverse the length of the continent, and reach that egypt of which he had read in the bible, where the lord loosed the children of israel from their bitter bondage. a few days before gideon's projected departure elsie and kanu were resting in the shade close to the spring in the kloof, after a long ramble on the mountain side. it was afternoon and the sun smote hard upon the drowsy earth. "i see the baas coming this way again," said the bushman. "i wonder why he comes here so often." elsie, although no doubt of her father's guilt had ever formulated itself in her mind, had developed an instinctive distrust of her uncle. perhaps it was because he had done what she had never experienced from another--persistently avoided all communication with her. "it is a strange thing," continued kanu, in a whisper, "but i saw him coming from here yesterday with the tears running from his eyes." it was elsie's habit to sit, silent, motionless and absorbed in her thoughts, for long periods. in her present situation she was completely concealed by the fringe of thick scrub which grew around the margin of the spring. the bushman instinctively crept into concealment close behind her and lay with every keen sense alert and a glint of curiosity in his bright, restless, suspicious eyes. the heavy, tired foot-fall of gideon thudded nearer and nearer until he stood,--motionless, with folded arms and downcast head, at the side of the still, clear pool. his intent look seemed to pierce the dark and limpid depths as though searching for a sign. he stood thus for several minutes; then he dropped heavily upon his knees and covered his face with his hands. then issued from the lips of gideon van der walt a prayer such as one might imagine being uttered from the heart of a lost soul upon whom the brazen gates of the pit have closed for ever. his petition was that god might give him forgetfulness and sleep,--just a little slumber when he laid himself down and folded his hands upon his breast in the night time.--just a little forgetfulness of the past when the sun sank and all the world except himself lost itself in happy dreams or happier unconsciousness. then he poured out his guilt in words which, although broken and incoherent, left no possible doubt as to their significance. he bargained with his maker: his brother's life,--the life which he had saved,--was it not, in a sense, his to dispose of? and although stephanus had not done the deed for which he was suffering punishment, had he not, by his heinous hate protracted through long years, deserved the heaviest chastisement that it was possible for him to receive? from all this storm of agonised and incoherent sophistry, only one clear idea reached the understanding of blind elsie,--the innocence of her father--the knowledge that he was suffering cruel punishment for a crime he had never committed. until now she had never doubted her father's guilt. knowing the provocation he had received, she had made excuses for him, and her very soul had moulded itself on the conception that he was suffering just retribution for a broken law. the conviction of her father's guilt had never diminished her love for him. on the contrary, its effect was to heighten her affection to the most exalted pitch. and now,--to know that he was innocent. the clash of joy and indignation in elsie's brain was such as almost to make her swoon. gideon arose from his knees and wandered slowly away with bent head and set face. he felt that his prayer had not been answered. every outburst of this kind had seemed to rivet anew the shackles which bound him to his load. elsie and kanu sat still until the sun sank, and then arose. mechanically the blind child put forth her hand for the guiding willow-wand which she knew would be stretched out for her grasp. as the pair walked slowly towards the homestead the dusk was glooming down. elsie's brain was in a whirling turmoil when she set forth. only one thought stood fast, and that was as moveless as a rock in a stormy sea: to save her father--that was the task to which her mind set itself. but how? for the first time she bitterly regretted her blindness. poor, ignorant child, shut up in a cavern of formless darkness,--what could she do? but before half the homeward road had been traversed, the turmoil of her mind had ceased and her thoughts had crystallised around a purpose as hard as steel. at the supper-table it was noticed that the blind child's face was paler and more set than usual, and that the lustre of her eyes was like red, molten gold,--but no word escaped her lips. it surprised aletta and sara to find that elsie did not reply when spoken to, but she had been so long a law unto herself that no particular notice was wont to be taken of her peculiarities. supper over, she did not, as was her wont, go at once to her bed in the little room at the end of the front "stoep," where she was in the habit of sleeping alone, but sat in the "voorhuis" until all the others had gone to rest. this was only "one of elsie's ways," which were different from other people's. to her the darkness had no more terrors than the day. next morning no trace of either elsie or kanu could be found. this circumstance was only rendered remarkable by the fact that her bed had not been slept in, and that a warm cape of brayed lambskin which she was in the habit of wearing in cold weather, as well as a loaf of bread from the "voorhuis" cupboard and a large piece of mutton from the kitchen, had disappeared. search was made, but no trace of the missing ones could be found. word was passed on from farm to farm,--from one lonely squatter's camp to another, until the whole country side for hundreds of miles was on the alert. the mountain haunts of the bushmen were ransacked--with the usual accompaniment of slaughter and pillage,--the secret places of the desert were searched,--but without success. had kanu been found he would have been shot at sight--so great was the indignation against him. poor kanu was tried, found guilty, and sentenced for the crime of kidnapping; fortunately, the defendant made default. thus another fold of shadow was added to the gloom which wrapped the stricken household. gideon, whose mind was ever on the alert upon the devious planes of thought, speculated upon the mystery through the preconception that it contained some element which had been lost sight of. knowing kanu as he did he could not conceive that the bushman would have harmed elsie. an idea took root in his brain which bore a sudden fruit of deadly fear. setting spurs to his horse he left the search-party on the hill-side and galloped down to the spring at the margin of which he had made his wild confession. under a thick curtain of shrub a few yards from where he had knelt he found the undergrowth crushed down as though someone had recently sat upon it, and, close by, where a mole had thrown up a heap of loose earth, was the print of a small foot, freshly indented. the discovery turned him sick with horror. in a few minutes, however, he laughed at his ridiculous fears. nevertheless, a speculation which, he persuaded himself over and over again was quite preposterous, kept persistently coming back and grinning at him,--even after it had been driven away over and over again with contumely, by his better understanding. the days came and went with dreary monotony. one by one the search-parties returned from their fruitless seekings. after hurried preparations gideon again set face towards the burning northern deserts, and resumed his vain quest for the habitation of peace. chapter eight. elsie's quest. the excitement consequent upon the battle of blauwberg and the conquest of the cape by england had just died down, and the inhabitants of cape town were involuntarily coming to the conclusion that the english were not such stern tyrants as they had been led to expect. juffrouw du plessis and her two daughters were sitting in their garden behind the oleander hedge, through an opening in which they could look out over the lovely expanse of table bay. the cottage, embowered in oak trees and with the north front covered by the soft green foliage of an immense vine, was built upon one of the terraces which lead up to the foot of table mountain, and which have, long since, been absorbed by the expanding city. behind the cottage the frowning crags of the massive mountain had hidden their rigour beneath the "table cloth" of snowy cloud, whose tossing, ever-changing folds and fringes were flung like foam into the blue vault of the sky by the boisterous "south-easter" which had given it birth. but in spite of the turmoil overhead, no breath of rude air disturbed the halcyon quiet which seemed to have spread a wing of wardship over the dwelling. an old slave who, notwithstanding his wrinkled skin and frosted hair, was still of powerful frame, was working with great deliberation among the flowers,--where large cabbage-roses lifted their heads high over violet-bordered beds that were sweet with mignonette and gay with pinks. the juffrouw was of huguenot descent and showed her french origin in the alertness of her movements and the sensibility of her features. she was the wife of a merchant who carried on a flourishing business in the city. "mother," suddenly said helena, the younger girl, "while you were out this morning i met a blind girl with the longest and yellowest hair i have ever seen." "a blind girl.--where was she?" "on the footpath behind the house." "and where did she come from?" "i do not know; she would not tell me. i think she must be mad, for she said she was going to talk to the governor and she asked me where he lived." "what an extraordinary thing." "yes. she was walking with a little hottentot man, who was leading her by means of a stick. she said they were both very hungry, so i gave them some bread and milk. i left them sitting at the side of the path, eating, and when i went back to look for them they were gone." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ elsie and kanu sat at the side of a stream in a deep ravine in the western face of the drakenstein mountain range. around them was a mass of dense scrub which was gay with lovely flowers. the child drooped wearily as she sat with her swollen feet in the cool, limpid water. her cheeks were faintly flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes shone with strange brilliancy. it was the morning of the sixth day after they had stolen away from elandsfontein. kanu looked gaunt with hunger. famine seemed to glare out of his hollow eyes. in spite of the proverbial toughness of the bushman, he was almost in the last stage of exhaustion. a belt made of twisted bark was tightly bound around his waist, and a bundle of grass and moss, rolled into a ball, was forced between it and his body, over the abdomen. "kanu,--how much farther do you think cape town is?" asked elsie in a tired voice. "i have heard the people say that the town lies under a big mountain with a flat top," replied the bushman,--"i can see such a mountain far away across the sand-flats. we will reach it to-morrow night if your feet do not get too sore." the child drew up her feet from out of the water and passed her fingers gently over them. even this slight touch made her wince. she threw back her head with a movement of impatience. her eyes were swimming in tears. beside her, on the grass, lay a pair of tattered _veldschoens_. "kanu,--do you think we will reach there in time to see the governor to-morrow night?" "i do not know; we might not be able to find his house in the dark,--and perhaps he goes to bed early." "but, kanu,--everyone must know the governor's house, so you can knock at the first door we pass and ask where it is." "yes,--we can try." "but, kanu,--i _must_ get my father out of prison at once when we arrive. i am sure the governor will come from his house and open the door as soon as i tell him,--even if he is in bed and asleep when we get there." "i do not think you will see baas stephanus to-morrow night," replied the bushman, after a pause.--"i heard from a man who had been there that the prison is not in cape town but in a place they call an island, in the sea." elsie hid her face in her hands and burst into a passion of tears. she had held out against hunger and fatigue, against exposure to chilling rain and scorching sun, her thoughts strained to the conception of "cape town" as an objective. often, when she was swaying with exhaustion, the words "father"--"cape town"--murmured half under her breath, would brace her flagging sinews. and now it was bitter to hear that her father was not in cape town after all, but farther off still. she had set her heart on meeting him immediately after her arrival. the governor was sure to be a good, pitiful man;--otherwise the great king across the sea, who now owned the whole country, would not have sent him to rule the land. as soon as ever she had told her tale, he would tell one of his soldiers to take her down at once to the prison, which he would open with a big key. then her father would look round and, seeing his little blind daughter, would know that she had saved him,--which was more than people with good eyesight had been able to do. over and over again the poor little child had rehearsed the scene of the meeting in her mind. the groove was well worn, and she followed the details accurately, step by step. she knew the feel of the big key; she had asked the kind governor to let her hold it, and then that she might carry it down to the prison, instead of the soldier,--but the governor said that he could not do this because it was against the law to let anyone have the key unless he were a soldier carrying a big gun. then the long walk down the street,--and how the soldier walked too slow, and how she knew without being told the direction of the prison. everything was quite clear until the key grated in the lock, as the key did in the lock of the barn at home,--and the heavy door swung back on its hinges. at this point imagination died in a swoon of bliss. however, kanu comforted her with the assurance that the island was close to cape town; he was quite sure his informant had told him it could be seen from the city. but she had to surrender the hope of seeing her father immediately after her arrival, and she felt that her former conception of the meeting and its prelude would have to be somewhat modified. she had rehearsed the scene so often that it had become utterly real to her; to alter it now gave her the keenest pain. kanu's woodcraft had stood elsie in good stead on the journey, but it was all he could do to procure food sufficient to enable the child to bear up against the terrible hardships incidental to such an undertaking. the heavens had been propitious, in so far that but little rain had fallen, but the cold had been severe in the rugged mountain tracts they were obliged to travel through. water had been scarce at times and cooking had always been difficult. for these poor wanderers had to avoid frequented ways, and, even thus, to travel only by night, kanu knew well enough that if they were seen by any european they would be stopped and sent home. so every morning at daybreak they camped in the most suitable spot to be found in their vicinity. here, on a bed of soft moss or grass, carefully prepared for her by the tender hands of her savage guide, elsie would slumber through the day, while kanu foraged for food, and, after ascending some eminence, surveyed the country with reference to the night's course of travel. kanu's adventures were sometimes alarming. once he came face to face with a boer who was evidently in a bad temper, for he unslung his gun and, without a word of challenge, fired. kanu only saved himself by dropping behind a rock. then he fled, incontinently, before his natural enemy had time to reload. more than the boers he dreaded his own kind. the wild men had been so often treacherously deceived by tamed specimens of their own race who, after gaining their confidence, betrayed them to the boers, that any stranger with the taint of civilisation upon him was liable to be put to death with horrible tortures. in his own native desert kanu would have had no difficulty in finding enough of bulbs, roots, lizards and other local products wherewith to satisfy the needs of his own appetite, but the farther south his steps trended the more unfamiliar the flora and minor fauna became. even the little of this description of produce he found was of no use to elsie; for her he had to steal, and it was in doing this that he ran into greatest danger. his habitual method of plundering was to locate a flock of sheep or goats, crawl around the bases of hills and up and down gullies until he got close to it, and then hang on its skirts until an opportunity offered for seizing and stifling a lamb or a kid. on the day before reaching the kloof where elsie had the bitter disappointment of hearing that her father was not at cape town after all, but at some island beyond it, kanu had, after waiting nearly all day for his opportunity, captured a lamb from a flock which was crossing the gully in which he lay waiting. this lamb had loitered behind with its mother,--the shepherd being, at the time, engaged in beating up stragglers in another locality. kanu carried the prey into a deep, forest-filled hollow. here he lit a fire of dry wood, which gave off no smoke, and roasted the toothsome carcase whole. reserving the entrails for his own share, he stripped the roasted flesh from the bones and carried it back to elsie, who was almost fainting with hunger. being now so near their goal and in a country of well-defined roads and many travellers, who did not appear to take much notice of one another, kanu consented to make a start whilst it was yet daylight, so the strange pair emerged from their concealment and moved slowly down the rugged side of the mountain. when they reached the sandy flat at its foot they set boldly out towards the great mountain whose snowy cowl shone white as a snowdrift under the clear october sky. they walked on until deep into the night. elsie, buoyed up by her purpose and almost unconscious of her swollen feet, would still have pressed forward. she declared that she felt no fatigue, but kanu insisted on her lying down and then she fell into a deep sleep which lasted until dawn. as the light grew kanu was astonished to find that the mountain looked nearly as far off as ever. the unfamiliar atmosphere--close to the level of the sea had deceived him. this day turned out to be the most fatiguing of all. the sun smote fiercely upon the red sand and water was scarce and brackish when obtained. however, when the sun sank they were nearly at the foot of the mountain. the soft, steady breeze brought up the thunder of the surf from the muizenberg beach, and filled the soul of the bushman with dismay at the unaccustomed sound. he had never been near the sea, so the thrilling diapason of the moving waters was full of terrors. "kanu, are you sure that this is the mountain that cape town is under? tell me, what it is like." elsie had dropped in the road from sheer fatigue, and kanu had borne her to a small copse, only a few yards away. "the side of the mountain is black with trees but its top is white with a cloud that never moves." "yes,--that is the mountain," said the child in a tone of relief; "my father told me that it always had a white cloud upon its top." then her head drooped and she fell asleep. kanu tightened his belt and mounted guard. in the desert, among the haunts of the fiercest beasts, he would have lain down after a few simple precautions, and felt perfectly safe. here, near the dwellings of christians, he felt--and with reason--uneasy. there was a small quantity of meat left, and the smell of it assailed his nostrils, made keen as those of a pointer by famine. how he longed for that meat,--for only one bite. the savage in his breast seized him as it were by the throat every now and then and tried to hurl him at the morsel. but it was elsie's, he told himself,--all she had to sustain herself with on the morrow, when there would be still a long walk before her. at length he fell into a troubled sleep, and dreamt of sumptuous banquets for some delightful seconds. another tug at the belt. well, it would soon be morning, and then this great, powerful, beneficent governor whom elsie knew of and talked such a lot about, would surely give them something for breakfast. when day broke the mist had drawn away from the mountain, the huge bulk of which stood out, robed in purple and edged with the gold of the unarisen sun. elsie slept long and deeply, and woke to a passionate flood of accusing tears when she found that the sun was already high. as they walked along the well-beaten road they met other sojourners. the savage instinct in kanu prompted him to hide in the bushes whenever he saw anyone approaching; but, when he found that of the many passers-by none attempted to interfere with them, he merely bent his head and hurried furtively past. no houses were yet in sight, except two square structures high up on the shoulders of the mountain. these were the watch-houses from which, in yet older times, the approach of the indian fleet was wont to be signalled to the castle. the bushman devoutly hoped that the governor did not live in either of these, for he knew that elsie, weak as she was, would never be able to make the ascent. anon they reached the shores of table bay, and the wide expanse of water filled the bushman's soul with deep awe. the scent of the sea stung the flagging blood of the spent child to new vigour; the "whish-whish" of the wavelets and the wild, strange cries of the sea-birds--perhaps they had flown across from the island where her father was waiting for her-- spoke to her strained ear in tones of sweetness and mystery, which thrilled through her to the very depths of her being. her fatigue and her lacerated feet were forgotten; she seemed to tread on air. at length kanu gave a sudden exclamation;--the goal of their terrible endeavours was at last in sight. there, shimmering in the soft, opaline haze, lay the lovely city, its white flat-topped houses embowered in trees, whilst the bright green slopes surrounding softened the contrast between its peaceful beauty and the mighty embodied desolation which seemed to prop the sky above it. elsie did not speak, but her face lit up and her eyes flashed with almost unearthly gleams. she felt that she was now at length, after all her sore travail, about to meet her father--her father who, innocent, had been torn from her and cast into prison among the vilest of men. sweetest of all was the thought that she, in her own weak hands, was bearing to him the precious gift of freedom. in imagination she was already passing her hands over his face, as she had been wont to do when she wanted to read his mood, and smoothing out the lines of suffering. the bliss was almost painful in its intensity. "kanu,--oh, kanu--we are nearly there; are we not?" "yes,--but i never thought there were so many houses in the whole world. it would take half an hour on a fresh horse to get to the farthest i can see." "kanu,--i suppose the governor lives in the biggest house; don't you think so?" "yes,--but there are so many big houses that i do not know where to look for the biggest." the bushman had been on the point of asking more than one of the people whom they had passed, in the street to direct them to the governor's house, but he had invariably lost courage at the last moment. in those days there was little traffic in the cape town streets except in the late afternoon, when many carriages were to be seen. during the heat of the day all, gentle and simple, retired for the siesta. thus the wanderers reached the centre of the city without attracting any attention, and without meeting anyone but a few slaves, who were out executing errands. at length they paused before what kanu felt sure must be the governor's house. it was a large building, several storeys high, and had a lofty, spacious "stoep" surrounded by heavy iron railings, which overlooked the street. the big windows were flanked by bright green shutters which had been thrown back against the wall. a sound of music issued through the wide, open door,--interspersed, every now and then, with loud bursts of laughter. yes,--the governor must certainly live here; he and his friends were, doubtless, holding revel inside. a steep flight of steps led up to one end of the stoep; these kanu mounted, leading elsie by the hand. the bushman paused before the open doorway and looked in. the splendour appalled him. rich mats of varied colour covered the floor; wonderful coloured objects hung upon the walls; a large glass case stood upon a table just before him. it was full of clear water, in which numbers of golden fishes darted to and fro,--red light flashing from their scales. yes, this was surely the house he had been seeking. as he paused, shrinking back against elsie who was trying to push him forward, a door suddenly opened on the other side of the room and a man as burly as any boer kanu had ever seen emerged, walking unsteadily. he was dressed in blue cloth with bright buttons, and had a funny-looking glazed hat placed sideways on his head. at first he seemed to be unaware that there was anyone but himself in the room. when, however, he became conscious of the presence of elsie and her companion he started, and paused unsteadily, hiccoughing. "sam," he shouted to someone in the next room, "come and look at this." sam came. he also walked unsteadily. he was nearly as big as his companion and was similarly dressed. "well, sam,--what do you make of it?" "it gets over me, cap'n," said sam, after a pause of anxious scrutiny. "well,--i've been round the world and i've never seen hair like that-- say, my lass, where do you hail from?" kanu replied in dutch, asking if the governor lived there, and if he were at home. "dry up with that monkey-chatter, or i'll wring your neck," rasped the irate captain. kanu shrank back in dread, pressing elsie behind him. the captain lurched over to the child and laid his hand on her shoulder. "my lass,--i've a little girl at southampton who looks like you, but you can show her your heels as far as hair goes.--why--sam--the child's blind." the captain had sat down on a chair, drawn elsie towards him by the shoulders, and looked into her face at close quarters. when his eyes met hers something penetrated to his perceptions through the fumes of the liquor he had drunk and told him she was blind. sam came forward and had a look. he did not believe the child was blind, and said so. she was just a beggar, shamming. he had often seen the same kind of thing on london bridge. the captain roughly, but kindly, drew the child again towards him. elsie kept passive and silent in his hands. perhaps this was one of the governor's friends,--or even the governor himself. she read his character by his touch, and trusted him, but she had shrunk away from sam. "come, my lass,--you look tired and hungry; is it some dinner you want?" elsie, feeling that this remark was directly addressed to her, replied in dutch, using almost the same words as kanu had used. "i cannot understand this blooming lingo," growled the captain--"sam,-- call the waiter." the waiter, a black boy, who spoke both dutch and english well, came in and interpreted. the captain was mystified; sam was sure that the whole thing was a "plant," and growled an advice to the captain to keep a careful guard upon his silver watch. then the landlady was called. she, good woman, was too busy to be much interested. however, the captain sent for some food, which he gave to elsie. she ate a little and passed the rest on to kanu, who ate it wolfishly. the captain sent for another plateful, which kanu disposed of with great rapidity. the captain--and even sam--became interested. the bushman was asked, through the waiter, if he could eat any more. he replied in the affirmative, so another, and after that yet another-- plateful was brought. this kind of thing might have gone on indefinitely, had not a young man, who looked like a merchant's clerk, come and taken possession of the captain for business purposes. as he was going away, elsie arrested him with a cry, and when he turned for a moment she begged pathetically to be told if the house she was in was the governor's, and, if not, where his house was. the captain tossed sixpence to the black waiter and told him to take the "monkey-chap,"--for thus he designated kanu,--down the street and show him where the governor berthed. the waiter, fully persuaded that he had to do with two lunatics, hurried them up one street and down another at the further end of which stood a large white building. "there," said he to kanu, "is where the governor lives." then he turned round and bolted. chapter nine. how they sought the governor and found the good samaritan. elsie's heart again bounded with delight as she and kanu hurried along the street. they reached the building indicated by the black boy. it had a large doorway opening to the street on the ground floor; several wagons drawn by horses stood before it,--some full of bales and boxes,-- others empty. kanu led the way in between the scattered parcels of merchandise and paused before a stout man who was making entries in a note-book. "please, mynheer, is the governor in?" asked the trembling bushman. the stout man glanced carelessly and contemptuously at his interlocutor. then, having finished his entries, he closed his pocket-book, put it hurriedly into his pocket, and strode away. just then a truck heavily laden with sacks was trundled in at the door; kanu quickly dragged the child aside and just saved her from being knocked down and run over. a big malay seized elsie roughly by the arm and dragged her into the street; then he returned, caught kanu by the neck and flung him after her. "here," he said, "take your white brat away; you all know that we don't allow beggars here." the two belated wanderers drew a little to one side to avoid the traffic and stood in silent and astonished desolation. in obedience to elsie's prompting, kanu accosted several of the passers with his now stereotyped enquiry about the governor. as a rule no attention was paid to his question. one or two answered him with jibes. at length a coloured man answered him kindly, telling him that the house opposite was a store, and that the governor did not live anywhere in the neighbourhood. he added significantly that they had better move on, or else he might get into trouble. kanu asked what trouble would be likely to come upon them. the man replied that he might be whipped and added that his companion's hair might be cut off. the threat of whipping filled the sensitive-skinned bushman with terror. he seized elsie's hand and hurried away. by this time the sun had gone down behind the lion's head, and the streets were full of people. the dismayed pair wandered about, sick with perplexity. poor kanu had been utterly demoralised by the threat of the whip, and elsie could not, for a long time, induce him to accost any of the people they met. when he did so the result was the same as previously; no one would take his enquiry seriously. their random steps took them to a quarter of the town where people of mixed race dwelt in low-built houses. the streets were full of bands of shouting boys, who jostled them and jeered annoyingly. a stout coloured woman was standing at the door of a little shop, the stock-in-trade of which appeared to be composed principally of stale, unwholesome-looking fruit. some spell of kindness in the woman's homely face caused kanu to pause. then the woman addressed elsie in dutch, in a kind voice, and the tired child bent her head and burst into a passion of tears. the woman drew elsie into the shop and tried to comfort her, but it was long before the child's pent-up woe, terror and disappointment had spent themselves. at length, when exhaustion had brought calmness, elsie murmured that she wanted to see the governor. the woman at once looked askance at her, suspecting that she was mad. but in a moment her look softened and her eyes became moist. then the kind creature drew the child into a little room at the side of the shop and laid her tenderly on a bed. elsie became calmer, so the woman drew off the tattered shoes and wept over the poor, lacerated feet. she covered the poor waif up with a soft patchwork quilt, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing her sink into a deep sleep. the woman then went out to the shop, where kanu was lying exhausted on the floor. she questioned him closely--and afterwards angrily, but the bushman was proof against her cross-examination. all she could elicit from him was that they had come from a great distance and that they wanted to see the governor about an important matter. the woman stole back into the room on tip-toe, and gazed at the sleeping child. made paler by sleep the face of elsie looked like that of a corpse. her hair lay in a glowing, tangled mass on the pillow; the gazer picked up one of the tresses and examined it with reverent wonder. then she left the room, closed the door softly, shut up the shop and went to her kitchen for the purpose of concocting some strong broth. it was late when elsie woke. her hostess was sitting at the bedside. she soothed the child, gave her a drink of warm broth and made her lie down again. then the woman crept into the bed, and the two slumbered together until morning. kanu had been accommodated with a sack in the kitchen and a supper of fruit which had become unsaleable stock. at early dawn the woman arose, leaving elsie still sleeping. she went to the kitchen and lit a large fire, over which she placed a capacious pot of water. then she fetched a wooden tub and laid it noiselessly in the bedroom. when elsie awoke she found a good cup of coffee and a biscuit ready for her. these she consumed with a good appetite. it was in preparing her for the bath that the woman found out that the child was blind. then her pity overcame her so that she sobbed aloud. she had lost her own only child, a girl of about elsie's age, a few years previously. after elsie had bathed, the woman went to a cupboard and fetched out what was her greatest treasure,--the clothes of her dead child, which she had folded carefully away interspersed with aromatic herbs to keep out the moth. with the best of the garments she clothed her little guest. then, after dressing the lacerated feet, she wrapped them in clean strips of linen, and put shoes and stockings which would have been much too large under other circumstances, upon them. this done, she combed out the child's hair, marvelling audibly at its length and richness. elsie could no longer resist the importunities of her kind friend, so she told her story,--how her dearly-loved father was in prison, suffering for a crime he had never committed; how she and kanu were the only ones who could establish his innocence; how they had run away and wandered thither over mountain and desert plain for the purpose of seeing the great english governor and obtaining justice. the woman did not know what to make of it. the places named were strange to her; the whole thing seemed uncanny. the extraordinary tale of the shooting, the child's blindness,--her wonderful tresses,--the savage, wild-animal look of her diminutive protector,--his language--an outlandish click-mingled corruption of an already corrupt patois--it was quite beyond the good soul's imaginative range, so she gave up the problem with a sigh and redoubled her tenderness to elsie. after breakfast elsie and kanu again wandered forth on their pathetic quest. the woman tried her very best to induce elsie to remain, and let kanu endeavour to locate the governor's dwelling as a preliminary measure. she herself could give no information on the subject, nor could any of the neighbours of whom she enquired. she made elsie promise to return if her search proved unsuccessful. this woman was a lonely soul, with nothing to love, and elsie had made a way straight to her heart. she exultingly made up her mind to adopt the child, knowing that the latter, even if she succeeded in finding the governor's house, would never be let in by the attendants. therefore she made sure that her guests would return in the evening. all day long she could think of nothing but elsie, the silky richness of whose yellow hair seemed to adhere to her dusky fingers and to lie like chrysm upon her charitable palm. that day the little shop and dwelling was swept and garnished as it had never been since the death of the woman's own child. clean sheets were placed upon the bed and a new and more wonderful patchwork quilt was unearthed from the depths of the press and spread out in all its glory. as evening drew near she cooked a dainty little supper; the child would surely return hungry after her walk. the hour at which the visitors had arrived on the previous day drew on. supper was ready,--done to a turn,--and the woman stood before her doorway, anxiously scanning the street, up and down. the neighbourhood had grown loud with the strident tones of squalid children, rushing about in bands at uncouth games as was their wont. the darkness came but there was no sign of the missing guests. the night drew on and the noises died down in the streets, until almost utter silence reigned. when midnight struck in the spire of the distant church, the disappointed woman sadly closed the door. she sat in the shop for a while longer, her ear alert for the footstep her heart yearned for. then she put out the light and went weeping to bed, leaving the untasted supper on the table. chapter ten. the sorrows of kanu. the two waifs resumed their search for the governor's dwelling with feelings very different from those which had inspired them at the beginning. throughout the long, blistering morning they wandered about the streets, timidly accosting any occasional passer-by whose appearance suggested possibilities of kindness, but no one would take their enquiries seriously. some sent them purposely wrong, as one has seen unfeeling persons send an ignorant native round a village on april fool's day, carrying a paper with the legend: "send the fool on." most of the people they spoke to smiled and passed on; more than once kanu had to spring to one side to avoid a blow. he, poor savage, had a continual dread of the whip hanging over his shuddering shoulders, whilst cold and deepening despair lay like lead upon his blind companion's breast. and, truly, the appearance of the two was sufficiently _bizarre_ and startling. kanu, clad in a few tattered skins,--gaunt with famine, his body and limbs scarred by brambles and his quaking soul glaring out through his eyes,--his questions clothed in badly-broken dutch and his whole manner that of a wild beast at bay,--why, such a being had never been seen in the city of cape town before. of the two, however, the blind girl was the more alarming object than the bushman, who made for her a most effective foil. her face was pale with the hue born of that fatigue and starvation against which her frail body had been braced by a great resolve and a transcendent hope,--but staring through this pallor was the bitter agony of disappointment and fear. her eyes, grown large and hollow, glowed deeply under the masses of her hair. her face had taken on a terrible beauty that seemed to radiate calamity and despair. thus passed this day of tribulation, but it was late in the afternoon before the full measure of their sufferings was attained. elsie had sunk exhausted on the pavement near an almost deserted street-corner. suddenly a noise of shouting was heard, and within a few seconds the terrified waifs found themselves surrounded by a swarm of tormenting street boys. elsie sprang to her feet and clasped her hands around her companion's sinewy arm. they stood close to the wall, and the boys formed a half-circle before them. the crowd seemed ever to increase. although molested, neither was actually hurt. now and then some bolder urchin would jostle them and once or twice elsie's hair was tugged at. but it seemed as though the touch of the rich fibre had some strange effect; each one who laid hands on it drew away at once, and slunk to the outskirts of the crowd, as though ashamed. they were rescued from this terrible predicament by three soldiers who were evidently taking a stroll. these, seeing what was going on, laid into the persecutors with their canes to such effect that the street was soon clear. kanu spoke to his rescuers, asking the old question, but they could not understand his language, and passed on. kanu now tried to shape his course towards the harbour of the previous night, trying to avoid the more frequented streets. but the instinct by means of which the bushman could find his way unerringly through the desert spaces in the deepest darkness, was useless to him here, in an unnatural environment. he had lost all perception of distance, direction and locality. but yonder, impassive above this scene of persecution and confusion, towered the bastioned crags of the great mountain. this at least was a wild, natural object kanu turned towards it as a drowning man turns towards an islet suddenly seen close at hand in a waste of waters, and pressed up the steepening slope. the shouts of the horrible boys became fainter and fainter as the waifs struggled up the rocky terraces. it was sundown before they reached a rugged ledge at the foot of the main precipice. here were thick bushes and great irregular masses of rock scattered formlessly about; between them the tough mountain grass was thickly matted. elsie sank to the ground and lay as if dead. she had got beyond tears; even the sense of pain had nearly died in her. fortunately, kanu still had his wallet, and in it was the piece of bread which their kind entertainer had given them in the morning. there was a bright trickle of cool water issuing from a cleft at the foot of the cliff, and to this kanu led the child after she had rested for a space. she had been for some time dreadfully thirsty, although hardly aware of the fact, and a drink of the cool water somewhat revived her. then she removed her shoes and stockings, and placed her feet on a stone where the water splashed upon them. when kanu placed a piece of bread in her hand she began mechanically to eat it. the site was suitable as a camping-place. it was hemmed in by a loose-linked chain of great, irregular rocks, and, from the absence of paths in the neighbourhood, was evidently not often visited by human beings. around were strewn soft cushions of moss and sheaves of waving grass swayed from high tussocks. dead wood from the fallen branches of sugar-bushes lay about in considerable quantities. kanu gathered a number of these together and lit a fire at the back of the largest of the rocks. the weather was perfect. at the cape, spring performs her duties at the time which chronologically ought to be winter. thus, by the time her own proper season arrives, the flowers have already emerged to meet the mild, cloudless, steadfast sky, which, where the ground lies at any considerable elevation, scorches not by day nor chills by night. thus, the unthinking cruelty of man was, in the case of these derelicts, in a measure compensated for by the careless kindness of the heavens. "kanu,--what shall we do?" asked elsie at length, in a dejected voice. "i do not know. it seems to be against the law down here to ask about the governor," replied the bushman, reminiscent of the possibility of the whip. "kanu,--have you seen the island where the prison is?" "yes,--it is far away across the water. if the water were land it would take half a day to walk to it." after some further discussion it was finally agreed that next day kanu was to leave elsie on the mountain and continue his search for the governor's residence alone. so at break of day the bushman stole down the mountain side and continued his quest. at length he met one who vouchsafed a reply to his question. this was a blind hottentot beggar whom he met being led by a little child to the street-corner where he was wont to ply his trade. "the governor," replied the beggar, with an air of superiority, "lives at rondebosch, which is at the other side of the mountain, at this time of the year. i know this, because my niece, who is a washerwoman and washes for his coachman, told me so." "is it against the law to ask where the governor lives?" "no,--why should it be against the law?" "then one cannot be whipped for asking?" "whipped? no; what an idea. but there are many things a hottentot can get whipped for, all the same." "what kind of things?" asked kanu, starting. "oh, plenty; stealing, for instance, or getting drunk, or being found in a garden at night. but who are you and where do you come from?" kanu was not prepared to answer on these points. however, he managed to elicit some further particulars,--for instance that if he walked along the main road he would pass the governor's house on his right hand; that the house had big pillars of stone before it; that two soldiers with red coats and guns walked up and down in front of it night and day. kanu hurried away towards rondebosch. two things it was imperatively necessary to do,--to locate the governor's house, and to get something for elsie and himself to eat. he had left elsie a small portion of bread,--hardly enough to serve for the scantiest of breakfasts. his own hunger was horrible. in spite of the tightening of his bark belt, which now nearly cut into his skin--the bushman tribal expedient for minimising the pangs of famine--he was in agony. he passed the fruit market and saw piles of luscious eatables that made his mouth water, and the odour of which made him almost faint with longing. all this plenty around him--whilst he and elsie were starving. he hurried away, the wild animal in him prompting to a pounce upon the nearest table, to be followed by a bolt. he knew his legs were swift, but there were too many people about and he would be sure to be caught. stealing, he remembered with a tingling of the shoulders, stood first in the old beggar's category of deeds for which one might get whipped. a thought struck him,--he would first locate the governor's house, then return and try, by following the course he had taken the first day, to rediscover the dwelling of the charitable woman who kept the little shop. but rondebosch was on the other side of the mountain; would he be able to go there and back without food? well, there was nothing else to be done. he would try it at all events. but after he had walked a few hundred yards his hunger got the better of him and he turned back and began to search for the woman's dwelling. he reached the hotel with the wide stoep; from there he had no difficulty in reaching the store which the waiter had pointed out to him as the governor's house. after this, however, he could no more unravel his way among the unfamiliar lines of exactly-similar houses, than a bird could find its way through a labyrinth of mole-burrows. so the day drew to a close without kanu obtaining any food. his own agony of hunger had given place, for the time being, to a sick feeling of weakness; it was elsie's plight that now filled his thoughts. food he must have, so he decided to steal the first edible thing he saw and trust to his swift running for escape. the whip was only a contingency, albeit a dreadful one,--but the hunger was a horrible actuality. kanu made for the outskirts of the city and began to prowl about seeking for food to steal. in the valley between table mountain and the lion's head were the dwellings of a number of coloured people of the very lowest class. most of the dwellings were miserable huts built of sacking and other rubbish, and standing in small clearings made in the thick, primaeval scrub. in the vicinity of some of these huts fowls were pecking about kanu skirted the inhabited part of the valley, marking, with a view to possible contingencies, the huts near which fowls appeared to be most plentiful. in a path near a hut which stood somewhat distant from any others, the matchless eye of the bushman discerned a well-grown brood of chickens, evidently just released from parental tutelage. a swift glance showed him how he might, unobserved, get between them and the hut. after worming his way through the scrub he emerged close to the unsuspicious poultry, into the midst of which he flung his stick, quick as lightning and with practised hand. two chickens lay struggling on the ground. the others fled homeward, with wild cacklings. within the space of a couple of seconds kanu had clutched the two unhappy fowls, wrung their necks and wrapped them up in his tattered kaross. then he sprang aside, ran for a few yards and dropped like a stone. a man and a boy came rushing up the pathway and then commenced searching the thicket in every direction. once the man passed within a yard of the trembling bushman, whose back began to tingle painfully. however the danger passed, so after a short time he crept along through the thicket to a safe distance, and then fled up to the mountain side to where he had left elsie. bitter was the poor child's disappointment when she heard that the governor did not live in cape town after all. however, kanu was sanguine now of being able to locate the dwelling they had so long and so painfully sought for. kanu soon lit a fire and cooked the chickens, which proved tender and toothsome. the bushman ate hardly anything but the entrails. he lied freely to elsie in regard to the manner in which he had come by the birds, and waxed nobly mendacious as to the amount of food which he pretended to have enjoyed during the day. next morning elsie's feet were still so much inflamed that she could hardly put them to the ground. kanu gave her the rest of the meat,-- which, as the chickens had been but small to begin with--came to very little. then he bade her farewell, promising to be back as early in the afternoon as possible, and started on his way along the western flank of the mountain to rondebosch. he crossed the high neck which connects the eminence known as "the devil's peak" with table mountain. this name used then to cause great scandal to the dutch colonists,--the term being an unconscious perversion by the english of the original name of "duiven's," or "dove's" peak. then he descended the almost perpendicular gorge to the thickets behind groot schuur, and soon found himself in the straggling village of rondebosch. it did not take him long to find the big house with the tall stone shafts before it, as described by the old beggar. his eye caught a glint of scarlet through the trees,--yes, there were the two soldiers walking up and down, armed with guns from the muzzles of which long bright knives projected. however, it was best to make sure, so he took up a position fronting the house, but on the opposite side of the road. he saw people going in and coming out, some in scarlet and some in wonderfully shiny black clothes. several people passed by, but they all looked too important for him to accost. at length a miserable-looking coloured woman hobbled by and he plucked up courage to address her: "what are those two men walking up and down for?" "who are you that you don't know soldiers when you see them?" "are these soldiers;--and what are they doing here?" "taking care of the governor, of course. that is his house." at last. well, he had found what he wanted, and there was nothing to do now but to tell elsie, and bring her out here as soon as her feet were better. but now that the excitement of the quest which had sustained him hitherto was over, a sudden agony of hunger gripped his vitals like a vice, and he felt that he must presently eat or die. elsie, too! he had only left her a bite of cold chicken. he would go and seek for more prey. the whip was clean forgotten. hunger--supremely agonising hunger--held him by the throat. he would go and seek for more fowls. there must be other places on the outskirts of the city where they were obtainable. so kanu started swiftly back along the main road to cape town, with all his faculties concentrated upon fowls and the stealing thereof. it was early afternoon when he reached the outskirts of the city. the sun shone oppressively; there was hardly a soul to be seen. he passed a little shop, the proprietor of which,--a stout malay, was apparently sleeping under a small awning hung over the front to protect the wares from the sun. a barrow, piled with cakes and other comestibles, stood at his side. they were queer, outlandish-looking eatables, such as kanu had never seen before. the sight and the smell made him wolfish. he looked up and down the street; not a soul was in sight. he tightened his left arm against his side and let a fold of the ragged kaross hang over it like a bag. then he shuffled his feet on the ground to test the slumber of the malay, who gave no sign of observance. then he clutched as many of the cakes as his hands would hold, placed them in his improvised bag, and hurried away on tip-toe. just afterwards a strong grasp compressed his neck and he was borne to the ground. when he managed to turn his head he saw the enraged countenance of the malay glaring down upon him. kanu stood in the dock, looking like the terrified wild animal that he was, and pleaded "guilty" to stealing the cakes. he had spent the night in a foetid cell with a number of other delinquents who had been scummed off the streets. the case attracted no particular attention, being one of a class very common in, it may be supposed, every city. the prisoner took some pains to explain to the bench how hungry--how _very_ hungry he had been, and how he had found it impossible to pass by the food after he had seen and smelt it. the magistrate asked kanu where he had come from and what he was doing in. cape town. the reply came in the form of a long, rambling statement which caused the minor officials to titter audibly, and the obvious untruthfulness of which caused his worship, to frown with judicial severity. he had, come--the bushman said--from a great distance, but from what exact locality he begged to be excused from saying. his business in cape town was "a big thing"; no less than an interview with the governor. if mynheer would only let him go to seek a companion who was waiting for him, and who must, by this time, be very hungry indeed;--and would let him have a piece of bread--just one little piece of bread no bigger than his hand, he would promise to return at once.--and if mynheer would let him and his companion be taken before the governor, mynheer would soon see that the story he told was true. then he went on to say that he knew that he had done wrong in stealing the cakes, and consequently he deserved punishment, but mynheer must please remember how hungry he had been, and how hungry his companion had been, and not give him the whip. he had heard that "brown people" were whipped in cape town if they stole, which was quite right if they stole when they were not hungry. he had never stolen before; he had only stolen this time because he could get nothing to eat, and had been unable to find the governor. only two things he begged of mynheer: to let him go to his companion with a little piece of bread;--she had had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, and must be very hungry now, and frightened, for she had been alone all night. the other favour was that mynheer might spare him the whip. by this time everyone in court,--except his worship, who had no sense of humour,--was almost convulsed with merriment at the quaint and guileful fictions of the bushman. where, wondered carelessly some of the more thoughtful, had this "_onbeschafte_" savage learnt to practise such artful hocus pocus. it was, they thought, an interesting object lesson, as proving the essential and hopelessly-mendacious depravity of the bushman race. his worship was "down on" vagrancy in all its forms. probably, being responsible for the good order of the city, he had to be. his official harangue in passing sentence was not long, nor,--with the exception of the last paragraph,--interesting, even to kanu. this last paragraph struck into the brain of the bushman with a smart like that produced by one of the poisoned arrows of his own race, for it sentenced him to receive that whipping the dread of which had persistently haunted his waking and sleeping dreams. in addition he was to be imprisoned for a week--the greater portion of which had to be spent upon spare diet. after this he had to leave the precincts of the city within twenty-four hours, on pain of a further application of the lash. kanu, the bushman thief, received his stripes dumbly, as a wild animal should; but the bitter physical agony which he underwent when the cruel lash cut through the skin of his emaciated body expressed itself in writhings and contortions which, the prison warders said (and they spoke from an extended experience), were funnier than any they had ever seen before. the spare diet he did not so much mind, being well accustomed to that sort of thing. after the shock of his punishment, which had dulled every other feeling for the time, had somewhat passed away, kanu realised that by this time elsie must surely be dead, and he fell, accordingly, into bitter, if savage, tribulation. but soon he found himself thinking, in quite a civilised way, that it was better, after all, that the blind child should be free from her sufferings. then kanu turned his face to the wall of his cell and slept with inconsiderable waking intervals, throughout the rest of his period of durance. when he was released a throb almost of joy went through the bushman's untutored breast. freedom, to the wild man, is as necessary as to the sea-mew. he hurried from the gaol door and made his way up the side of the mountain to where he had left elsie eight days before, expecting to find her lying white among the rocks, half-covered by her shining hair. bushmen, everyone says, have no hearts,--yet a spasm contracted the throat of this bushman as he neared the spot where he had left the blind girl, which, in the case of a civilised man, would have been attributed to an agony of grief. but no trace of elsie could he see. his keen, microscopic eye searched the ground for a sign, but none was visible. the north-east wind had blown; the swift springing of vegetation had affected nature's obliterative work--wiping away the faint traces of the tragedy from this small theatre as completely as time, with the assistance of lichens, grass and a few others of nature's busy legion, will finally obliterate man with all his works and pomps. no sign.--stay,--there, floating on the slow, sweet stream of sun-buoyant air, quivered a yellow thread,--bright as materialised sunlight. it hung from the bough of a shrub upon which bright, sweet-scented buds were struggling through between cruel-looking, black thorns, and miraculously getting the best of the struggle. kanu carefully disentangled the precious filament, rolled it up into a minute coil and put it into a little bag containing several namelessly-unpleasant charms, which hung by a strand of twisted sinew from his neck. swiftly the bushman examined every nook and cranny in the vicinity, but no other trace of the blind girl he had served so faithfully and unselfishly could be found. then his eyes began to swim with what in the case of a european would certainly have been called tears, and his throat tightened once more with the same sensation he had a few minutes previously experienced. far away to the northward the great blue peaks of the drakenstein glowed and pulsed in the sunshine, while their hollows were dyed a more wonderful purple than tynan artificer ever took from the depths of the mediterranean. beyond this range, albeit on the other side of an almost interminable series of other ranges, seemingly as impassable, lay the desert; and towards this kanu the bushman sighed his savage soul. one more look round--lest, haply he might have left some sign unread or some nook unsearched;--one more recurrence of the unaccountable (for a bushman) sensation in his throat, and kanu set his face to the north, and went forth for ever from the shadow of the dwelling-places of civilised men. chapter eleven. elsie and the satyrs. the long day drew to a close but elsie, with the sweet steadfastness of a nature that had hardly ever known what it was to repine, did not feel impatient. she knew that it would be impossible for her to go to rondebosch until the following day, so she was content to sit in the mild sunlight, bathing her feet in the cool stream. the portion of cold chicken that remained she had divided into two, one of which she ate for breakfast. when she knew from the coolness of the air that the sun had gone down, she ate the remainder. when night came she wondered why kanu had not arrived, and the wild thought that he might by some wonderful chance have seen the governor and then gone straight off to procure her father's release lifted her heart for one moment's wild delight. but she soon saw the impossibility of her imaginings, and her joy fell, broken-winged, to earth. however, her spirits soon regained the former mean. fear she felt not; the only thing that had caused her terror was the mob of boys in the street of the city, but here, where kanu had placed her, she felt quite safe. to those who are blind from birth darkness harbours no more terror than day. although the lovely scene which lay around her was cut off from her cognisance by the failure of her principal channel of sense, her remaining faculties had been so sharpened by the striving of the imprisoned individuality to apprehend its environment, that she might almost be said to have developed a special sense which those possessing sight have no idea of. to elsie the evening was full of beauty and for one short hour she was soothed in the lap of peace. the faint, far-off murmur of the city stole up and seemed to cluster like a lot of echo-swallows against the sheer rock-wall that soared into its snow-white fleece of cloud above her head. to her fine-strung ear they made music. she wondered in what direction her father's prison lay. perhaps he had breathed the very air which now, full of the scents and ichor of the sea, gently stirred her locks. the dew-fall made everything damp; it was cold and she longed for a fire. why was kanu so long in coming back?--her mind searched in vain for an explanation. could it be possible, after all, that he had seen the governor and then gone with the soldier and the great key to effect her father's release? even now he might be hurrying up the rugged path, under the faithful bushman's guidance, to greet the beloved child who had dared, suffered and accomplished so much for his sake. no, she reflected with a sigh, that was hardly to be hoped. the governor would, doubtless, want to see and talk to herself before taking any steps. kanu was, after all, only a bushman, and, although she knew how brave and honest and true he was, and how superior to his race, it was not to be expected that the governor would recognise his good qualities at the very outset of their acquaintance. but where _was_ kanu? it was most extraordinary that he should have left her so long as this, all alone. surely he could not have forgotten that she had no food and no means of lighting a fire. it was now, she knew, very late, for the noises had died down and the city lay as silent as the grave. she knew also that kanu was not anywhere near. last evening her supersensitive ear had been able to detect his approaching footsteps long, long before he arrived. she was now very hungry indeed and the penetrating dew had chilled her to the bone. but she was accustomed to exposure and she did not suffer in this respect as another might have done. she was crouched under the lee of a rock. drawing her knees up for the sake of warmth she shook her tresses out over her like a tent, and soon fell asleep. she awoke suddenly and started up with a wild cry, her every nerve tingling with horror. from the krantz-ledges above her head were issuing strident shrieks and hoarse roarings. in an instant she recognised the sounds:--they came from a troop of large, fierce, dog-faced baboons which had taken up their quarters on the face of the cliff. the baboons were having one of those noisy scuffles which, several times in the course of a night, invariably disturb an encampment of these animals. down the face of the cliff came bounding good-sized pebbles and even small rocks, dislodged by the struggling simians. these thudded into the grass or crashed into the bushes close beside her. seizing the short staff which she always carried, the terror-smitten child felt her course away from the vicinity of the cliff and began descending the mountain with stumbling steps. the sole and only terror which elsie had felt on her native farm,--the dread of these animals,--returned upon her with irresistible force. the tanqua valley was full of these monsters, whose hoarse roarings, heard from afar, haunted the dreams of her nervous childhood. in seasons of drought they would sometimes rush in among a flock of sheep and tear open the stomachs of the young lambs with their powerful paws, for the sake of the newly-drunk milk. to elsie and her kind the baboon took the place of the dragon, the giant, and the gnome, around which cluster the terrors of northern childhood. bruised, bleeding, and palpitating with horror, the poor little blind child stumbled on down the rough, brambly mountain side until she lost her footing and fell heavily over a ledge. then she swooned from the combined mental and physical shock, and for a time lay still in merciful unconsciousness. when she revived she could not at first realise what had occurred; then the horror came back upon her like a flood, and she once more arose and staggered forward, groping before her with her stick. then came another dreadful thought:--kanu would not now know where to find her when he returned. what was she to do? she had dreaded the boys in the cruel, perplexing city--yet she felt that she could now fly to them for protection--if she only knew the way. and kanu might--the thought brought a momentary gleam of cheerfulness--possibly track her course down the mountain side, but--if she once reached the streets he would never be able to trace her. no,--she had better remain somewhere on the mountain.--but the baboons--thus the poor, over-laden little brain reeled along the mazes of a labyrinth of frightful alternatives. now her alert senses told her that the day was breaking and the sweet influences of the dawn brought a momentary relief from the worst of her imaginary terrors. she thanked god with happy tears for the returning of the blessed day. but almost immediately afterwards the ripple of relief was swamped by a returning tide of dismay. even at this late day the baboons of table mountain sometimes assume a very threatening attitude to persons rambling alone in the more unfrequented spots, but in the early days of the cape settlement these great simians were far more daring. it was no uncommon thing for them to raid the vineyards and gardens on the outskirts of the city in the early morning,--and this is what they were preparing to do on the occasion of elsie's great travail. at the first streak of light they began to descend from the krantzes and spread in skirmishing order over the slopes beneath. the centre of the scattered column headed direct for the spot where elsie lay cowering, and it was the guttural bark by which the animal that discovered her announced the presence of a human being to the others, that gave her such a redoubled shock of dread. she tried to move, but her strength failed her; so she crept under a bush and lay there, crouched and quaking. on right and left she could hear the harsh signals of the sentinels, from flank to flank of the long-extended troop. far and near she could hear the stones being rolled over as the baboons searched for scorpions and other vermin. she heard a rustling close to her, and then a guttural grunt of mingled curiosity and surprise. the horrors of the situation struck her rigid, and she ceased, for a few seconds, to breathe. the baboon was now close to her, wondering no doubt, as to who and what she was. then, with a movement which combined the elements of a slap and a scratch, the creature drove its hairy paw into her face. with a long, shrill shriek elsie sprang to her feet and fled down the steep slope. a thorny shrub caught and held her dress fast. she thought that one of the monsters had overtaken and captured her, and she fell to the ground and lay huddled in a swoon that was very nigh to death. the fruit-orchard at the back of the du plessis' dwelling had on several occasions suffered severely from the depredations of the baboons. thus, whenever these brutes were heard roaring and coughing on the mountain side--which usually happened in the very early morning, it was customary for all the male members of the household to turn out in a body, to repel the attack. on this occasion the slaves, armed with whatever weapons could be hurriedly laid hands on, and headed by the old white-headed gardener, who carried a blunderbuss of ancient make, rushed out to protect the fruit mr du plessis and his two daughters joined in the sortie a few minutes afterwards. the girls enjoyed this sort of thing very much, and the cry of "baviaan" would turn them out of bed earlier, and more quickly, than anything else. the sensation of "creeps," which any enterprise involving a small tincture of imaginary danger brings, is dear to the youthful female breast. on the present occasion the enemy made even less show of resistance than usual. driven back in disorder, they retreated to the mountain krantzes which were inaccessible to all but themselves, hoarsely defiant and threatening what they would do next time. the morning was delightful as only an early morning can be when listless spring coquettes with impatient summer under a cloudless, calm, and southern sky; so mr du plessis and his daughters decided to spend some of the time which must elapse before breakfast would be ready in strolling over the flower-strewn mountain slope. the lovely bay lay like a white-fringed purple robe cast down to earth from the couch of some regal goddess; in the deep, deep hollows of the drakenstein the shattered remnants of the host of conquered night were cowering; overhead the scarred crags of table mountain lent, by force of contrast, a splendid foil to the softness of the rest of the landscape. they had left the footpath and were wandering among the dew-bejewelled bushes. suddenly, with one accord they all stood still; before them lay what appeared to be the dead body of a young girl, fallen upon its face. mr du plessis stepped forward and bent over the pallid form. he ascertained that it still contained life, and he signed to the two girls to approach. they turned the unconscious frame over upon its back and placed the slack limbs in an easy position. the face was untouched, but the poor hands had been sorely torn by thorns. the lips were almost bloodless and the whole form as cold as the earth it lay on. the hair, sadly tangled, glowed in the sunshine like live gold. "the blind girl we saw with the bushman," said helena, in an awed whisper. "yes," said mr du plessis,--"there has been some foul play here. you girls rub her body as hard as you can and loosen her dress at the throat; i will run and send ranzo and one of the boys with a basket-chair." it was not long before the chair arrived, carried by two strong slaves. elsie was tenderly lifted from the cold earth and carried down to the cottage, where she was soon laid upon a soft, warm bed. her damp clothes were removed and warm wraps substituted. the doctor had been sent for at once, but in the meantime mrs du plessis poured a hot cordial down her throat. this soon caused a glow of warmth to spread over the almost pulseless body. soon the doctor arrived and ordered that the patient should be laid in a warm bath. this caused her to revive considerably. when her eyes opened it seemed as if they were filled with the pain of the whole world. after swallowing a little nourishment she fell into a swoon-like sleep, which lasted all day and into the middle of the night. when elsie awoke it was to delirium of the most painful kind. ever and anon she would shriek with terror and try to spring from the bed. this lasted for several days, until the doctor feared brain-fever. however, she once more fell asleep, and lay for days like a faintly-breathing statue. she was wakened now and then and given nourishment, which she mechanically swallowed,--immediately afterwards sank back to deepest sleep. the strange story of the finding of the blind girl with the wonderful hair had in the meantime spread abroad, and the circumstance aroused general interest. many now recalled having seen the strange pair wandering up and down the streets upon their hopeless quest, and regretted, too late, that they had not rendered assistance. public feeling,--that mad perverter of probabilities,--was very much aroused against kanu, and had that unhappy bushman been caught it would have gone hard with him. however, kanu, with his savage equivalent for the emotion of grief, was straining every nerve to get as far away from civilisation as possible, bent on hiding his suspected head in the depths of the uttermost desert. many were the visitors at the cottage on the mountain slope during elsie's illness. when the child grew better a favoured few were allowed to take a peep into the dimly-lighted room where, upon a bed as white as snow, the pallid, pathetically-beautiful image of tragic suffering lay. the wonderful hair had been carefully combed; it flowed like a golden cataract over the headrail of the bedstead. when the light of a candle shone upon it through the gloom of the darkened room the beholders marvelled at a depth and richness of colour such as they had never before thought possible. up from the vaults of blank unconsciousness floated the mind of the blind girl until she became cognisant of her immediate surroundings; but the past remained to her an utter blank. bit by bit she recovered the faculty of speech. it would be more correct to say that she re-acquired it, for she picked up words from those around her almost as an infant does--only more rapidly and intelligently. her sweet, equable disposition had not altered. thus, she began to fill in the obliterated pages of her mind with serene unconsciousness. she never laughed, but a strain of music, a sweet scent, or a soft touch from the hands she had learnt to love for their constant kindness would bring to her pale face the light of a rare smile, and flood it with a soft colour that was good to behold. thus blind elsie, after her sore travail and disappointment, drifted, a derelict, into a harbour of safety and loving-kindness. chapter twelve. elsie's awakening. four years had come and gone; four times had the winter rains from the hidden antarctic floated up to the storm-smitten shores of that continent over which the wings of ancient mystery still brood, and made sweet the ways of spring. the cottage still stood on the slope of table mountain but it was no longer alone; other dwellers of the city had selected sites and built near it. moreover, it could not so readily be seen from a distance as formerly, for the reason that the bowering trees had enviously stretched forth their boughs around it. mr and mrs du plessis had been tenderly dealt with by time; being young in heart they still knew youth, and the lady's french vivacity remained unimpaired. gertrude and helena had grown into young women comely to see, and the path leading to their dwelling was often trodden by the feet of the young men of the city and the officers of the garrison. the suit of a young minister of the dutch reformed church had found favour with gertrude. he had graduated in leyden in a distinguished manner three years previously. mr brand and gertrude were engaged and meant to be married in the early part of the ensuing year. the greatest change was, however, to be seen in elsie. she was about seventeen years of age and as beautiful as a lily. tall and slight, her sweet face marble-pale, her deep eyes fringed with long, brown lashes and her wonderful hair full of amber hues mingled with the golden tints of dawn, the blind girl who dwelt in darkness was the sunshine of the household. although her mind was still a blank so far as events that had occurred previous to her waking in the home of her protector were concerned, her intellect otherwise was quite unimpaired. her memory had regained its old strength, and once more she became remarkable for never forgetting anything she experienced. she was quite without fear except of the baboons, the barking of which upon the mountain side always made her tremble. it was this circumstance which led the old doctor who attended the household to express his belief that she would one day recover her memory. she was called agatha by the du plessis after numerous attempts to elicit her name had failed. the reverend philip brand, gertrude's _fiance_, was an earnest and a muscular christian. he was a man who held quite original views upon most questions; one peculiarity of his being that he rather preferred the society of the very bad to that of the correspondingly good. the visitation of the unfortunates condemned to serve in chains at the quarries on robben island was a self-imposed branch of his duties which he took the greatest interest in. "i have recently come in contact," he said one day to gertrude, "with a very remarkable man. he is a convict at robben island,--a man named van der walt. he tried to murder his brother, and was sentenced to ten years imprisonment in consequence." "yes;--and why does he specially interest you?" "well,--'tis a very curious thing;--you know that i am apt to take a liking to reprobates; this man's influence upon me is, however, very strange. whenever i have been talking to him i come away with the impression that there is some mistake,--that he is god's minister and i am the criminal." "i wish i could meet him." "i wish you could. i can hardly describe him.--the man is as humble as christ himself, and is always, without the least sign of cringing, grateful for the least attention. he does not talk religion at all; in fact he tries rather to avoid the subject, but he continually endeavours to enlist my help towards getting favours granted for the other prisoners. he has never, so far as i can make out, asked for anything for himself." "do you know the particulars of his crime? his story ought to be interesting." "i only know a few of the bare facts. it appears that he and his brother--they lived far up country, near the roggeveld--had been quarrelling for years. one day they met in the veld, and this one shot the other with his own gun,--tried to murder him, in fact murder or no murder, something always seems to say to me when we meet: `that man is a better christian than you.'" "has he been long in prison?" "about eight years. they tell me that he has never been known during all that time to disobey an order or to grumble at anything. his wife died five years ago, and just afterwards his little daughter, whom he loved better than anyone else, disappeared. they say his health afterwards broke down completely for a time, and his hair and beard turned from jet black to pure white within a few months." "poor old man,--why don't they let him out if he has suffered so much and has become so good?" "they are talking of asking the governor to commute the last year of his sentence. i shall do my best to have the idea carried out, but i had better not move in the matter openly, because all say i am already too much on the side of the convicts, and i am no longer listened to when i intercede for them." summer had not yet come, but its approach was making itself felt from afar. the du plessis' were spending the day on the western side of the peninsula, where the south atlantic tides, steel-grey and cold, sweep past the black, broken rocks. to landward the bastioned turrets known as the "twelve apostles" soared into a blue sky; from seaward the rollers were thundering up, in front of a steady north-west breeze. elsie had been placed in a comfortable situation such as she loved--safe above the reach of the moving waters, but where faint fragrant whiffs of spray might now and then reach her, and where the generous sunshine prevented her from feeling chilled. she loved sometimes to be left alone thus, so the others wandered away. soon she fell into a deep sleep. when the strollers returned they were alarmed at the change which had taken place in the blind girl. she was sitting straight up; her face was drawn, her lips were parted; she breathed with quick, husky gasps and her eyes blazed. the two girls ran up and put their arms around her; then she shrieked loudly, and became almost convulsed. but she soon became calmer under their soothing words and touch. "kanu,--are you here?" she uttered. "we are here," replied helena, gently--"gertrude and i. what is the matter.--what frightened you?" "oh,--how long have i been sleeping.--where is kanu? where am i?" they noticed that she spoke in quite a different tone to her usual one, and in an uncouth idiom they had never heard from her before. "hush, dear," said helena, soothingly. she guessed what had happened. the doctor had told her that an awakening of the girl's dormant memory might happen at any time.--"hush,--do not trouble to think just now. you will remember it all by and by." helena drew the blind, frightened face down upon her generous breast, whilst gertrude softly stroked the rigid hand which had seized one of hers with such a convulsive grasp as caused her acute pain. the blind girl's brain was reeling perilously near to madness. like a flood came the memory of her journey and its purpose--of the misery of disappointment, and the terror of the baboons. her mind began anew at the flight from elandsfontein, and retraced every painful step of the journey which came to such a tragic close in the inhospitable streets of the city. the whole pageant went through her consciousness in a whirling phantasmagoria. when she reached that stage of her adventures wherein she left the dwelling of the kind old coloured woman, she instinctively passed her hand over her knees to feel if she still wore the dress which had been lent her then. again she ascended the rugged slopes of table mountain, with her ears filled with the horrid shouts of the persecuting boys. the long-waited-for kanu seemed so imminent that she bent her ear to listen for his expected step in the sound of the rocking surf. then her terror of the baboons returned upon her like a hurricane sweeping everything away in fury; she started up with a shriek and tried to rush away. "oh god,--the baboons. kanu--kanu." "hush--hush, dear," said the soothing voice of helena; "you are safe with us; nothing can hurt you. feel--we are holding you safely." the sudden rupture of the cells in the blind girl's brain, within which the terrors of that dire morning of four years back were pent, was like the breaking of the seventh seal. the shock almost unseated her reason. however, she gradually came to realise that she was with friends, whose tender touch brought comfort and a sense of safety. for the moment the last four years of her life were as effectually blotted out as though they had never been. then, as a tortured sea gradually glasses over when the storm-cloud has passed on, although it yet heaves with silent unrest, her mind began to calm down and the recollection of more recent events to dawn upon the verge of her consciousness. "but where is kanu? why did he not come back to me?" "was kanu the bushman who led you about?" asked helena, gently. "kanu left me on the mountain and went to find out where the governor lived.--my father--how long ago is it--where have i been?" "what is your father's name and where does he live?" asked gertrude. "my father is in prison, but he is innocent, and only kanu and i know the truth. we came to tell the governor, so that he might let my father out." "come, agatha,--let us go back to mother and tell her." "my name is not agatha,--my name is elsie,--elsie van der walt." the two girls looked at each other in surprise, recalling the name of the prisoner in whom mr brand was so much interested, and of whom he had spoken several times. after gently assisting elsie to arise they led her to where the other members of the party were waiting. helena then drew her mother and mr brand aside and told them of what had occurred. "find out her father's christian name," said the latter; "if it is stephanus you may safely tell her that she will be taken to him to-morrow. i will get permission to-night and arrange to have a boat ready in the morning." "elsie," said helena, passing her arm over the bewildered girl's shoulder, "is your father's name stephanus van der walt?" "yes--yes,--that is his name. is he still in prison?" "he is still in prison, but he is well. you will be taken to him to-morrow." the light of a great happiness seemed to radiate from elsie's face. at last--at last--the compensation for the long travail was about to be hers. and he--the innocent and long-suffering, would be freed from his bonds. the eventful day was drawing to a close, so preparations for the return homeward were at once made. mr brand started on foot for cape town, by a short cut. he meant to call upon the magistrate at once and obtain a written permission to visit robben island and see the prisoner on the following day. as the party drove homeward elsie was wrapped in a trance of utter happiness. the lovely day had ripened into a sunset-flower of gorgeous and surpassing richness, and, as the pony drew the little carriage up the hill-side to the peaceful home among the trees, its rarest light seemed to be intensified in and reflected from the radiant face of the blind girl. elsie spoke no more that night, and the others made no attempt to disturb her blissful silence. in the middle of the night mrs du plessis arose, lit a candle and stepped softly to the room where the blind girl slept alone. she was dreaming, and her lips were parted in a smile. her long, brown lashes lay darkly fringed upon her cheeks, her face and throat had lost their marble pallor and were faintly tinged with the most delicate rose. adown her sides and completely concealing her arms flowed the double cataract of her peerless hair. across her bosom and concealing her clasped hands, the streams coalesced into a golden billow which, as it heaved to her breath showed full of changing lights. the kind woman gazed, spell-bound, until happy tears came and blurred her vision. then, with thanks to the power which had sent this angel to her household upon her lips, she noiselessly withdrew. chapter thirteen. father and daughter. stephanus van der walt had entered the door of his prison with the firm conviction that his god--the just and mighty god of the psalms that he knew so well--had laid this burthen upon him for his great transgressions. in the light of his changed heart all the provocation which gideon had given him seemed to melt away like snowflakes in the sunshine, whilst his own contributions to the long-drawn-out quarrel waxed larger and blacker the more he looked at them. the exaltation of spirit which buoyed him up when he received his sentence had never flagged. he gloried in his sufferings. his only prayer was that god might not visit his crimes upon his innocent children,--that elsie, his little blind child, might have the shield of divine protection extended over her helplessness--that marta, the wife whom he had neglected, and sara, his elder daughter who stood on the threshold of womanhood, might find the wind of adversity tempered to their need. when he heard of marta's death he bent his head anew in bitter self-reproach. he felt he had left the weak woman whom he had vowed to cherish alone and unprotected,--disgraced and sorrowful. up till now he had been happy--happier than he had felt for years, for his heart was no longer the home of torturing hate. he felt that this later misfortune was sent to chasten him,--a thing which his imprisonment had failed to do. he took his wife's death as a sign of the wrath of the almighty, and he winced at the soreness of the stroke. but when, a year later, the loss of his little blind daughter became known to stephanus, his bones seemed to turn to water and light died out of his life. it was the uncertainty of her fate which made the blow so terrible. month by month would he write letters asking for news and suggesting places to be searched. had her body only been found it would have brought some consolation. but no--god's wrath was still sore against him. it was his perfect trust in god's justice that saved him from despair. he had no hope that elsie was alive; god, he firmly believed, had taken her to himself, and had left her fate uncertain so as to punish her father, who was the greatest of sinners. his health nearly broke down under the strain. however, his sublime faith triumphed in time--he bent his back to the sore stroke and the soreness grew less. stephanus was employed with the ordinary convict gang in the stone-quarries upon robben island. for the first few years he had worked in chains. afterwards his good conduct had attracted so much remark that he was freed from his fetters and allowed several privileges which, however, he always tried to pass on to his fellow-convicts. whenever any of the others fell sick, it was stephanus who would tirelessly nurse them, night and day. he had even offered on one occasion to receive corporal punishment to which another prisoner had been sentenced, but this, of course, the authorities would not allow. since his prostration consequent upon the news of elsie's disappearance stephanus had not been asked to do any labour in the quarries. moreover, he had not been forced to cut his hair or beard of late years. these were snow-white and of considerable length, and, combined with his upright figure, strongly marked features, and keen but kindly eyes, gave him that appearance we are accustomed to associate with the hebrew prophets filled with the fire of inspiration. an early breakfast was hardly over at the du plessis' home next morning, before mr brand appeared, armed with permission for himself and elsie to visit the convict van der walt. they drove down to the wharf, where they found a boat awaiting them. the day was clear and bracing and the stout boat flew before the south-east wind across the heaving welter of table bay. although elsie had never been on the sea before, she felt neither alarm nor inconvenience. in the course of a couple of hours the keel grated on the shingle and the passengers were carried ashore through the surf. her impatience had given place to a feeling of calm, and she paced up the pathway to the prison without the least appearance of agitation. leaving her in charge of the wife of one of the officials, mr brand went to prepare stephanus for the great surprise. elsie's beauty became almost unearthly when she was led up the stone steps, at the other side of which she knew her father was waiting to receive her. she entered a flagged passage and then was led to a doorway on the right. the door opened, and she stepped into the room where her father was waiting. he, with a wild look of astonishment and almost incredulity, clasped her in his arms. the door was gently closed, leaving the two alone together. some time elapsed before any words were spoken. stephanus drew elsie upon his knee and she passed her white hands over his worn face in the old enquiring way. the wrinkled lines that had been ploughed deep by sorrow were traced by her fingers, one by one. then she clasped her arms around his neck and laid her face against his. stephanus could hardly bring himself to believe, at first, that this beautiful and daintily dressed young woman was the roughly-clad and unkempt little girl he had parted from so long ago. the rest of mind and body she had enjoyed,--the calm and wholesome life she had led during the past few years had blotted out the traces of the hardships she had undergone, and had fostered her physical development. the serenity of her spirit had stamped itself upon her beautiful face and she had imbibed the refinement of her surroundings as though to the manner born. when, at length, her speech came, and her father learnt, bit by bit, all she had endured for his sake, his tears fell fast. but for her the bitterness of the past only enhanced the happiness of the present. even when he laid a charge upon her, which almost seemed to take away the true value of all she had suffered for his sake, she did not attempt to repine. "god laid this punishment upon me," said stephanus, "and it is his will that i should bear it to the end." "but when i tell them what i heard they will surely set you free." "my child,--god does not smite without knowing where and how the stripes will fall." "but you did not mean to shoot uncle gideon, and he knew it when he spoke at your trial." "my child,--you have been brave for my sake, and we will soon be happy together once more. i lay this charge upon you:--that you go back to the farm,--to your uncle's house, and wait for me there. moreover, that you say not a word to anyone of what you know. if god wants this revealed he will reveal it in his own way." elsie no longer questioned her father's decision. it was agreed between them that as soon as arrangements could be made she was to return to elandsfontein, and there await her father's release. elsie and mr brand slept at the house of the superintendent of the convict station that night, and returned to the mainland next morning. there was grief and dismay in the du plessis' household when it became known that elsie was about to take her departure. it was as though a child of their own were leaving. they tried every persuasive argument to detain her, but all were of no avail. it was pointed out that if she remained in cape town she would be near her father and could return with him after his release. but his will to her was law, and her determination was not to be shaken. a letter was written to gideon apprising him of the fact that his niece had been found, and another to uncle diederick, asking him to come and fetch elsie with his tent-wagon and a team of stephanus' oxen. in due course a reply was received, to the effect that gideon was absent on a hunting trip, and that uncle diederick would start for cape town in the course of a few days, accompanied by elsie's cousin adrian. elsie had begged that enquiry should be made as to whether kanu had returned to the farm, but nothing had been seen or heard of him there. this was, of course, a very fortunate circumstance for the bushman. had he ever been found and recognised, it is to be feared that a short shrift and a round bullet would have been his portion. chapter fourteen. adrian and jacomina. aletta, who had mentally and physically become grey like her surroundings, like a tree growing in a damp and dark corner which has long since given up the attempt to shine and burgeon like its fellows that rejoice in the sunlight--received the news of elsie's having been found with but a faint shock of surprise and satisfaction. her perceptions had become dulled by the woe-laden years. sara had, some two years previously, married a young farmer from an adjoining district. uncle diederick was glad of the opportunity of visiting cape town; he had heard of some wonderful new discoveries in the drug line, and he wanted to advance professionally with the times. his farming on joint behalf of himself and stephanus had prospered. he felt that when his (at present) sleeping partner should be released, he, uncle diederick, would be able to build himself another "hartebeeste house" of ample proportions and sumptuous style, and devote his energies exclusively to the exercise of that healing art which his whole soul loved. adrian had--being of a careful and frugal nature--begun acquiring stock when still very young. this had increased considerably, owing to a long series of excellent seasons and the exercise of careful management. thus, he had recently found himself quite rich enough to start farming on his own account. when, however, he mooted this contingency with his father, gideon at once offered him a full partnership in the farm as a going concern, leaving him the unrestricted management and only stipulating for the supply of teams of oxen and relays of horses for use on the hunting trips upon which he now spent by far the greater proportion of his time. adrian at once closed with the offer. whilst uncle diederick was making preparations for his trip the thought struck adrian that the present might prove a good opportunity for him to visit that city which he had never yet seen. he felt that not alone could he make the journey pay its expenses, but that a handsome profit might be won by taking down a load of produce and bringing back another of supplies. so he overhauled his wagon, packed it with ostrich feathers and hides and then sent over to tell uncle diederick of his intention. uncle diederick had arranged to start on the third day following. adrian's notification came in the form of a message sent through a hottentot who was directed to enquire as to the hour of uncle diederick's intended departure, so that the wagon might arrive at the spot where the two roads from the respective homesteads met, at the same time. up to this it had been understood that jacomina was to remain behind and attend to any patients who might turn up. "pa," said that artless damsel, at supper, "it will be very lonely here while you are away." a quizzical expression crinkled over the withered-apple-like visage of uncle diederick. otherwise he impassively went on with his meal. "yes,--and i have never seen cape town. besides elsie will be very lonely on the road if there is not another girl to talk to and look after her." after she had obtained her father's consent jacomina began at once making preparations for her trip. her best frock was taken from the box and thoroughly overhauled, her smartest _cappie_ and her newest _veldschoens_ were laid ready for the morrow. a brooch of old workmanship and some other trinkets which had drifted into uncle diederick's coffers in the course of trade, and thence been annexed by his daughter as part of her share in the profits, were examined and judiciously selected from. next day adrian was astonished, elated and embarrassed to find jacomina, resplendent in what passed, locally, for finery, sitting throned upon uncle diederick's wagon box when the wagons met at the appointed spot. as a matter of fact adrian's shyness had grown with his passion until each had reached a pitch of tragic intensity. he had often ridden over to uncle diederick's homestead with full and valiant intentions of declaring his love, but invariably his courage had failed at the last moment jacomina had been at her wits' end to bring him to the point of proposing which, she knew perfectly well, he was longing to do. she had tried various ways and means, but all had failed. when she became cold he sank into gloomy despondency and moped away by himself. if she grew tender he seemed to dissolve in nervousness and grew as shy as a young girl. once, she tried flirtation with another, for the purpose of arousing jealousy, but the effect was alarming. adrian went without food or sleep for several days and rode about the country like one demented. the obvious way to arrange matters would have been to get uncle diederick to intervene. this, however, in spite of many direct hints from jacomina he had declined to undertake. in the days we tell of no marriage could be solemnised in the cape colony unless the parties had previously appeared before the matrimonial court in cape town. it is an historical although almost incredible fact that in the early days of the present century couples wishing to marry had to come to the metropolis for the purpose from the most distant parts of the colony. now, in the tender but astute soul of jacomina a bright and happy thought had been born. like the birth of athene was the issue of this fully equipped resolve that stood before jacomina in sudden and dazzling completeness. adrian was to accompany her and her father to cape town,--she would induce him to propose on the way down and then there would be no difficulty in leading him up to the marrying point. he was of full age; she was accompanied by her father. there was no reason why the wedding should not take place at once, and thus save them all the necessity for another trip. adrian's shyness did not diminish during the journey. at each outspan jacomina exercised all her faculties to shine as a cook. he shewed by his appetite that he deeply appreciated the results, but he got no farther than this. with her own deft hands would jacomina mix adrian's well-known quantity of milk and sugar with his coffee, and then pass him the cup which he would receive so tremblingly that the contents were in danger. the skin bag of rusks made so crisp and light that they would melt instantaneously and deliciously in coffee or milk--the jar of pickled "_sassatyes_,"--hanks of "_bultong_" and other delicacies would be produced from the wagon-chest at each outspan and, if adrian's passion might be gauged by his appetite, he was, indeed, deeply enamoured. but jacomina was at her wits' end,--her lover would not declare himself, do what she might. one day, however, some difficulty arose with the gear of adrian's wagon, so that off uncle diederick started alone, its owner's intention being to wait for his travelling companion at the next outspan place, where water and pasturage were known to be good. uncle diederick, as was his wont, fell asleep shortly after a start had been made. jacomina sat at the opening of the vehicle behind, gazing back along the road in the direction of where she had left her lover. it was a drowsy day; a faint haze brooded over the land; not a breath stirred the air, faint with the scent of the yellow acacia blooms. the road was deep with heavy sand, through which the oxen slowly and noiselessly ploughed. a small, bush--brimming _kloof_ was crossed. through it sped a small stream, plashing over a rocky bar into a pool around which nodded a sleepy forest of ferns. jacomina put her head out of the back of the tent. then she sprang from the back of the wagon and went to examine the grot. she found a flat ledge, out of range of the spray, which made a most convenient seat, so she sate herself down and contemplated the scene. jacomina liked the scenery so much that she determined to stay for a few minutes, and then follow the retreating wagon. anon she thought she would wait a little longer and get adrian to give her a seat as he came past. the hottentot driver had seen her dismount, so her father would know that she had not fallen off and got hurt, at all events. she sat among the ferns for a good half-hour before she heard the shouts of the driver urging on the labouring team. then the wagon laboured through the _kloof_, and jacomina peered through the ferns as it passed her. adrian was walking behind the wagon, with long, slow strides and bent head. jacomina was just about to arise and call out to him when he lifted his face at the sound of the plashing water, hesitated for a few seconds, and then stepped towards the grot. jacomina knew, instinctively, that the hour she had long hoped for had come; that her lover was at length to be caught in the toils which she had, half-unwittingly, set for his diffident feet,--and the knowledge filled her with a feeling of bashfulness to which she had hitherto been a stranger. thus, when adrian walked heavily through the fern and almost touched her dress before he perceived her, she felt covered with confusion. adrian started as though he had seen a ghost. jacomina lifted a blushing face and gave him an instantaneous glance from her bright eyes--made brighter now by a suspicion of tears. then she bent her face forward upon her hands and began to sob. adrian was bewildered. this was something he had never thought the matter-of-fact jacomina capable of. something must be very wrong indeed. but he felt no longer awe, and his shyness was swept away in a tide of pity. there was room on the ledge for two; adrian sat down next to the distressed damsel and endeavoured to comfort her. "what is it, then, jacomyntje,--has your pa been scolding you?" jacomina nearly gave herself away by indignantly repudiating the bare notion of her succumbing to anybody's scolding, but she remembered herself in time. after a partial recovery she was seized by another paroxysm of sobs, in the course of which she pressed one hand across her eyes and allowed the other to droop, limply, to her side. no observer of human nature will be in doubt as to which hand it was she let droop. adrian, after a moment's hesitation, nervously lifted the hand and pressed it slightly. as it was not withdrawn he increased the pressure. the sobbing calmed down somewhat, but the head remained bowed in an apparent abandon of hope. "what is it, jacomina; tell me why you are weeping." "ach, adrian,--i am so unhappy." this was getting no farther forward. the sobbing again recurred, and the fingers of the sufferer took a tight grasp of those of the consoler. then the afflicted form swayed so helplessly that adrian felt bound to support it with his arm, and in a moment the head of jacomina reposed quietly upon his breast. "what is it, 'meintje; tell me?" there was no reply. adrian looked down upon the sorrow-bowed head and felt that the growing lassitude of the girl called for firmer support, which was at once forthcoming. the experience was new and alarming but, taken all round, he liked it. jacomina was no longer formidable; in a few moments he forgot that he had ever been afraid of her. "come, jacomyn', tell me what is the matter." "oh, adrian,--i am afraid to tell you for fear you would despise me." "despise you? no, you know i could never do that." "i am so unhappy because--because you used to like me so much, and now you never speak to me." jacomina had now come to believe in the genuineness of her own woe, so she fell into a flood of real and violent tears. adrian gradually gathered her into his arms, and she allowed herself to be consoled. after a very few minutes a full understanding was arrived at; then jacomina recovered herself with remarkable rapidity, and recollected that the wagons were far ahead. adrian's shyness had by this time completely gone, so much so that jacomina had some difficulty in getting him to make a start. in fact she had to escape from his arms by means of a subterfuge and dart away along the road. her lover did not lose much time in following her. the course was interrupted by amatory interludes whenever the wayside boskage was propitious, so it was not before the outspanning took place that the wagons were reached. when the blushing pair stood before uncle diederick, that man of experiences did not need to have matters explained to him. "well, jacomina," he said, "i'll have to see about getting a wife myself now. but you need not be afraid on account of aunt emerencia; no one, who is not a fool, buys an old mare when he can get a young one for the same price." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ uncle diederick, who had not been to cape town since the days of his early youth, was very much impressed by everything he saw, but by nothing so much as the chemists' shops. he never got tired at gazing at the rows of bottles with their various coloured contents. he wandered from one drug emporium to another, until he made the acquaintance of an affable young assistant who dispensed with an engaging air from behind a counter deeply laden with wondrous appliances and enticing compounds. this young man loved experiment for its own sake, and he had a wide field for the exercise of his hobby among the poorer classes, who usually came to him for panaceas for their minor ills. as paul sat at the feet of gamaliel, uncle diederick sat on a high-legged stool in the chemist's shop, drinking in greedily the lore which fell from the young man's lips, and making notes of the same in a tattered pocket-book, with a very stumpy pencil. thus uncle diederick widened his medical knowledge considerably, until he felt that all worth knowing of the healing art was now at his command. the young man was the only one who suffered; his moral character became sadly deteriorated owing to the reverence with which uncle diederick regarded him, and the wrapt attention with which every essay of his was observed and recorded. eventually uncle diederick placed an order worth about ten pounds at the shop, and obtained copious directions as to treatment of the different maladies which the contents of each bulky bottle might be expected to cure. the wagons had outspanned on the mountain slope, not far below the du plessis' dwelling. jacomina was much impressed at the luxuriousness of elsie's surroundings and the quality of the stuff of which her garments were made. gertrude and helena tried to be civil and attentive to jacomina and adrian but--well, jacomina was not long in seeing that the two town-bred girls were much more attractive than she was herself, and she did not care to appear at a disadvantage before her lover. elsie she did not at first feel jealous of. as she expressed it to adrian, the blind girl reminded her of the great peak at the head of the tanqua valley, when it was covered with snow in winter. one day, however, she observed a look upon adrian's face as he was regarding his cousin, which made her resolve to hurry on the wedding at all hazards. at the lower end of plein street was a shop, a mere contemplation of the contents of which filled jacomina's soul with satisfaction. it was a large emporium, specially stocked and arranged for the purpose of supplying the needs of the farmers visiting the metropolis. at this establishment produce of all kinds was purchased, the value being usually taken out in goods--a double profit thus being secured by the management. everything--from hardware to drapery, from groceries to hymn-books could here be purchased. it was at the establishment described that uncle diederick and adrian had disposed of their respective loads of produce, and jacomina had had a certain sum placed to her credit in the books. each day she would spend several hours wandering through the store, from one bewildering room to another, and now and then making a small purchase after such protracted deliberation and examination as drove the assistants well over the bounds of distraction. the object which most fascinated jacomina was a dummy attired in gorgeous bridal array and enclosed in a glazed frame. this model, strange to say, bore a remote resemblance to jacomina herself, and might have easily passed for an intentional likeness had its inane simper been changed into a smart and decidedly wide-awake expression. no youthful artist hovered, fascinated, before milo's venus so devotedly as did jacomina before this glass shrine in which seemed to be housed the goddess of love. she breathed no conscious prayer to the deity; yet it was in one of her ecstasies of worship that an inspiration came to her which eventuated in propitiously bringing about the end she had in view. jacomina fell into bad spirits, and grew cold to her lover. adrian became distressed and redoubled his attentions. jacomina one day arranged so that she met adrian on his way to the city. she tried to avoid him, but he pursued her and persuaded her to accompany him for the sake of the walk, which was to be to the shop of perennial attractions. as the pair entered the establishment, jacomina hesitated for an instant, bent her head and seemed as though about to retrace her steps into the street. a wild hope surged up in the breast of a counter-clerk who had seen her approach, and now thought he was going to have a respite. adrian became perplexed and bent over jacomina's bowed head with solicitude. then, with a mighty effort she managed to raise a blush; lifting her face, when she had succeeded, to that of her lover for a ravishing instant. after a pause she allowed herself to be reluctantly drawn into the building. before the door, which led into the drapery department--which adrian had not previously visited, stood the shrine, and from it the goddess beamed down upon the pair with inane benignity. adrian caught a glimpse of the ravishing form, and was at once struck by the resemblance it bore to his beloved. a wild tumult seethed up in his ingenuous breast. just like that, he felt, jacomina would look if similarly attired. the embarrassed damsel moved away, causing consternation behind the counter she approached, and left her spell-bound adorer gaping. adrian transacted his business with masculine promptitude, and then sought for jacomina, whom he found at a counter absorbed in the examination of many coils of ribbon. but she had executed the real business she had visited the shop for to her entire satisfaction, so she went away with her lover at once, leaving behind her a general sense of relief. adrian tried to steer his course for an exit past the shrine, but jacomina knew it would be a better move to get out by another door. when they were in the street adrian began to refer to the subject which had caused such a ferment in his bosom: "jacomyn--that girl in the white dress. i wonder who made her. she looked just like you." "ach, adrian,--how can you joke so?" "jacomina,--she's really just like you, only not half so pretty. i--i-- i'd like to see you in a dress like that, jacomina." "ach, adrian,--how can you talk like that? it's only town girls that ever dress like that and then only--" "but, jacomyn,--when we get married you might buy that very dress and put it on. i--i--i wonder if they'd sell it. they might easily make another for the figure in the glass case." jacomina sighed deeply, and looked down with an air of mingled dejection and confusion. "that dress will be old before i will want it," she said. "how can you talk like that? why, i want you to put a dress like that on very soon." jacomina sighed deeply and did not speak for a while. then she sadly said--raising, as she spoke, her eyes to adrian's emotion-lit face: "i know that my father will go to live at the old place as soon as we return, and it will be years and years before he will ever come to cape town again. no, adrian,--you had better forget me, and look out for some girl whose father will be able to bring her to cape town soon. i do not want you to be bound to one who may have to keep you waiting such a long, long time." the sentence ended with a sob. they had now reached beyond the outskirts of the dwellings, and were on a pathway which meandered between patches of scrub. at an appropriate spot jacomina darted in behind a thicket, sank with every appearance of exhaustion on to a stone, and burst into tears. "leave me,--leave me,"--she sobbed, as her lover, fondly solicitous, attempted to console her. "i have had a dream; i know i shall never be able to come to cape town again. go away, adrian, and find some girl who will not have to keep you waiting for years and then die without making you happy." adrian became seriously alarmed. like most of his class, he was a firm believer in dreams. jacomina became more wildly dear at the thought of losing her. his mind sought distractedly for an expedient to avert the threatened doom. then the memory of the goddess flitted across his brain and gave him an inspiration. "jacomina,--i will buy that dress and we can be married at once. i will go straight back now and ask the price of it." jacomina feebly shook her head, but surrendered herself insensibly to her lover's embrace. then followed hotly-pressed argument on his side, feebly, but mournfully combated on hers. eventually she agreed to leave the matter in the joint hands of her lover and her father. she then allowed herself to be led home, leaning heavily on the arm of her enraptured adorer. both were equally happy; each had gained that point the attainment of which was most desired. no difficulty was experienced in obtaining uncle diederick's consent to speedy nuptials. much distress was, however, felt by adrian when he found, on calling at the emporium next day, that the nuptial robe of the goddess had been purchased by another prospective bride. when he entered the establishment he found the goddess in a lamentable state. the dress, the veil and the wreath of orange blossoms had disappeared. the head and face were intact, but the rest of her once-ravishing form was little else than a wiry skeleton,--not constructed upon any known anatomical principles. adrian's heart sank; he thought of jacomina's dream. he had made much capital out of the garment and its accessories--he had, in fact, used the goddess as a kind of battering ram wherewith to level jacomina's supposed objections to a speedy union; now he thought in his innocence that jacomina would draw back from the performance of her side of the contract. after hurrying from the emporium with a sinking heart he arrived, pale and breathless, at the wagon. uncle diederick happened to be in the city, engaged in the selection of drugs. "jacomina,"--panted adrian, "the dress is gone--sold to someone else-- and it will take a week before another can be made. do you think pa will wait for a few days more?" uncle diederick had this peculiarity: if he announced his intention of doing any given thing on a given day, he stuck to his word; nothing short of absolute necessity would stop him. it was this that adrian had in view. uncle diederick had said that he meant to start on the following monday; it was now tuesday; wedding or no wedding it was quite certain that he would not alter his plans. jacomina put on the look of a virgin saint who had just been condemned to the lions. "no, adrian,--you know pa _never_ waits." she spoke with a resigned sigh. "but, my little heart,--it will only be for two days." "pa _never_ waits. no, adrian--we will bid each other good-bye--you must forget me--my dream--if it had not been this it would have been something else--good-bye, adrian--think of me sometimes--" she dissolved in tears. adrian sprang to her side and tried to comfort her, but she was beyond consolation for a long time. then she ceased weeping and sat with her eyes fixed steadfastly on the far away. "no, adrian,--i had another dream last night. i thought i met an old bushwoman gathering roots in the veld, and she said to me that if any delay came you and i would never be married. good-bye, adrian,--i would only bring you bad luck. go and find some other girl--but don't--forget me--altogether." the last words were spoken with a sobbing catch. adrian became agonised. jacomina, exhausted by her emotions, allowed him to possess her waist and draw her to him. "if you would not mind--of course i know it would not be what i had promised--but as you have had those dreams;--if you would not mind being married in another dress;--we might get married on monday, after all. come, jacomyntye, what does the dress matter?" jacomina allowed herself to be persuaded, leaving her lover under the impression that she was conferring a great favour upon him. but the shadow of an abiding sadness was upon her visage, as though she saw the hand of fate uplifted to strike her. she told her lover that he was not to hope too much--that she felt as though something were sure to intervene at the last moment. this made adrian feverishly anxious that the ceremony should take place and, had it been possible, he would have marched down to the church and had the knot tied at once. jacomina told him that she did not want to trouble her father, who was enjoying himself so much, with her forebodings, and accordingly, her manner in uncle diederick's presence was as cheerful as usual. adrian was much impressed by this evidence of filial feeling. he grew more and more enamoured as the hours dragged slowly past, and shuddered increasingly at the imminent catastrophe to which jacomina continually alluded when the lovers were alone. at length the blissful day dawned. a garment somewhat less ambitious than that which had clothed the goddess in the glass case had been hurriedly put together for the occasion, adrian calling on the sempstress several times each day, to enquire how the important work was progressing. after the ceremony, the bridal party returned to the wagon, and thence to the du plessis' house, where a small feast had been prepared. jacomina, feeling herself at a disadvantage, was anxious to get away. adrian was speechless with bliss, and had no eyes for anyone but his bride. he did not appear to advantage in his new store-clothes, which did not suit his stalwart form nearly as well as the rough, home-made garments to which he was accustomed. uncle diederick enjoyed himself immensely. he had never previously tasted champagne; under the influence of the seductive wine he nearly went the length of proposing marriage to helena. in the afternoon a start was made. uncle diederick's wagon had been comfortably fitted up for elsie. gertrude and helena accompanied their friend as far as the first outspan place, where a farewell libation of coffee was poured out from tin pannikins. the wagon with the newly-married pair started first; that of uncle diederick remaining until the pony-carriage, which was sent out to fetch the two girls, arrived. the wagon with its green sides and long white tent rolled heavily away over the sand. the two girls gazed through their tears until this ship of the desert which bore back to the unheeding wilds this strange and beautiful creature who had brightened their home during four happy years, slowly disappeared. chapter fifteen. elsie's return to elandsfontein. it was late in the evening of a misty, depressing day, when elsie arrived at the elandsfontein homestead. the same air of unkempt mournfulness brooded over the place. aletta, who had grown stout and frowsy, had prepared herself to meet her errant niece with bitter reproaches, but one glance at elsie's stately presence and superior attire, proved sufficient to demoralise the aunt. aletta had a furtive, crushed look. the long years of misery and isolation had left their mark upon her. the only thing which kept her above the level of the mere animal was the love she still bore her husband, in spite of his consistent neglect gideon had spent the greater portion of the past four years in wandering vaguely through desert spaces, the more remote the better. in fact he only returned to the farm from time to time to refit his wagon or renew his cattle or stores. on each occasion of his departure aletta had made up her mind that she would never see him again. he had now been absent for several months, and none could say when he was likely to return. but aletta's curiosity soon got the better of her awe, so one day she began, tearfully and apologetically, to ask elsie about her adventures. why had she gone--how could she leave them all in such a state of fear and uncertainty--how could she, a white girl, run away with a bushman and thus bring disgrace on respectable people? the questions came out in an incoherent torrent, which ended in a flood of tears. "i went on account of my father," replied elsie. "but why did you go without telling us?" "had i told you, you would have stopped me." "but you don't mean to tell me that you and kanu walked all the way to cape town. why, it takes ten days to reach cape town with a span of fat oxen." "yes, kanu and i walked all the way." "but where is kanu." "i cannot say; i thought to have found him here." "we thought he had taken you away and murdered you. had he come back here he would have been shot." "poor kanu; i am glad he did not return." "but, my child, there must be more to tell. why did you go just then, and why did you never let us know where you were?" "there is much to tell, but the time to tell it has not yet come. when my father returns you will, perhaps, know all, but until he bids me speak i cannot." the blind girl's words made aletta quail. the return of stephanus was above all the thing she most dreaded. deep down in her consciousness lay a conviction of stephanus' innocence and her husband's guilt. this she had never admitted even to herself. the first suspicion of the dreadful truth began to grow upon her immediately after the trial; of late years suspicion had developed into certainty. her knowledge of the deeply-wronged man led her to infer that he would return raging for vengeance, and that her husband's life would inevitably pay the penalty of his sin. many a time had she poured out frantic petitions to heaven that stephanus might die in prison, and thus free her husband from the shadow that darkened his life. to think now that the event she dreaded so sorely was about to happen within the space of a few months, turned her heart to stone. a few weeks, however, of elsie's society made her think that possibly her conviction that stephanus would come back filled with an implacable desire for vengeance was a mistaken one. the pledge which elsie had made to her father sealed her lips on the subject of his forgiveness of the wrong that had been done him, but the influence of her strong, sweet nature came more and more to still the terror that had recently made aletta's life more of a misery to her than ever. the only hope of the unhappy woman now lay in the possibility of being able to influence stephanus through the child that he loved so dearly, and she meant to pour out her whole soul, with all its doubts and suspicions to elsie before her father's return, and beg for her intercession. nearly four months elapsed after elsie's arrival before her uncle returned. one night, late, the footsteps of a horse were heard, and soon afterwards gideon entered the house with weary tread. he had left the wagon some distance behind. when aletta told him of elsie's return he started violently and turned deadly pale. he did not ask where his niece had been. as his wife descanted with nervous volubility upon the mystery, and explained how she had been unsuccessful in eliciting from elsie any particulars of her flight and subsequent adventures, gideon found himself wondering whether it would not be possible for him to get away secretly and return to the wilderness, thus to avoid meeting the accusing look of the blind eyes that he remembered so well and dreaded so sorely. but elsie just then stepped softly into the room. "where is uncle gideon?" she said in a soft voice. gideon gazed in speechless astonishment at elsie. his apprehensive eye wandered over her graceful form and her pallid, beautiful face. he noticed how her figure had developed and how the gold had deepened in her hair. as aletta tremblingly led her forward to the bench upon which gideon was seated the unhappy man quailed and tried vainly to avoid the blind, accusing eyes, which seemed to seek his and to hold them when found. elsie lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders. "uncle gideon," she said, "my father sent me back to live with you until his release." gideon murmured some unintelligible words. elsie passed her hands lightly over his features. aletta quietly left the room. "yes," said elsie, "you have suffered; i will try to comfort you, uncle gideon." a sense of immediate relief came over the unhappy man. it was now clear to him that stephanus could not have told her the truth about the tragedy at the spring, or else she would never have met him and spoken to him as she did. so far it was well, but the fact of stephanus not having taken her into his confidence was a proof of the implacability of his mind. but in an instant his mind rushed to another conclusion: this blind creature who loved her wronged father so utterly,--was it not certain that her desire for vengeance must be as keen as his? but he would balk them both by plunging again into the wilderness--so far, this time, that he would never be able to return. "a good way to comfort one," he growled ungraciously, "to wander away with a bushman and make us run all over the country looking for you." "would you like to know, truly, why i went, uncle gideon?" "oh, as you are back all right now and have had enough to eat, wherever you have been, it does not matter; you can tell me some other time.-- only you must not do such a thing again." "no,--there will be no need for me to do the like again." gideon left the room, feeling more and more puzzled. each one of elsie's ambiguous remarks sent his speculations farther and farther afield. one thing only was clear to him,--it was time to carry out that intention which had been gradually growing of late years as time went by and his brother did not, as the miserable man had confidently expected, die in prison. this was the intention, previously unformulated, of finally leaving wife, home and everything else and trekking to some unknown spot far beyond the great, mysterious gariep,--to some spot so distant that his brother's vengeance would not be able to reach him, and there spending the remnant of his miserable days. to do gideon but justice, the strongest element in his dread of meeting stephanus was not physical but moral. he felt he could not bear to confront the stern accusation which he pictured as arising in the injured man's piercing eyes. he feared death, for he dared not meet his god with this unrepented crime on his soul, but he feared it less than the eyes of his injured brother,--that brother whom he had robbed of ten precious years of life. chapter sixteen. gideon's flight to the wilderness. after gideon had become somewhat accustomed to elsie's presence that awe with which she had at first inspired him began to lessen. now that he meant to go away finally nothing she knew or could do mattered to him very much. he was fond of aletta in a way,--more or less as one is fond of a faithful dog, but she was the only being in the wide world who cared for him, so he felt the prospect of parting from her very keenly. he determined to make a full confession of his transgression to her before leaving, feeling persuaded that thenceforth she would look upon him with abhorrence and thus would not sorrow at his departure. the thought that he was about to destroy his patient wife's regard for his lonely self was not the least of gideon's troubles. he tried to carry off his distress with an air of unconcern which, however, did not deceive anyone. as the preparations for his departure were being hurried towards completion he became more talkative than usual. aletta, at the near prospect of the parting, was sunk in the depths of misery. adrian and his wife who resided with uncle gideon, now and then visited the homestead. jacomina had refused to leave her father, on the pretext that her assistance in his medical practice was indispensable. the true reason was, however, that she wanted, if possible, to prevent him marrying again. elsie, to whom the night was as the day, continued her old habit of wandering abroad after all the others had gone to bed. she invariably dressed in light colours and used to flit like a ghost among the trees. gideon had dubbed her "white owl," and he never addressed her as anything else. two days before gideon's intended departure the three were sitting at breakfast. a messenger who had been despatched to the residence of the field cornet, some forty miles away, was seen approaching. gideon was in one of his forced sardonic moods. "aletta," he said, "your eyes are red again; have you been boiling soap?" "no, gideon; it is not only the steam from the soap-pot that reddens the eyes." "has the maid spoilt a batch of bread? if she has, _her_ eyes ought to be red and not yours." "no, gideon,--the bread has been well baked." "what is the matter, then? sunday, monday and tuesday your face is like a pumpkin when the rain is falling; wednesday, thursday and friday the water is still running; saturday it is not dry. did you ever laugh in your life?" "it is long since i have heard you laugh, gideon." "i? i can laugh now,--well,--you have never seen me weep." "would to god you did rather than laugh like that." "uncle gideon," said elsie, "one day your tears will flow." "when will that day come, white owl?" "when my father's prison doors are opened." gideon glared at her, terror and fury writ large upon his distorted face. just then a knock was heard; aletta arose and went to the door where she found the returned messenger, who had just off-saddled his horse. she came back to the table and silently laid a letter before gideon who, when he recognised the handwriting started violently. after looking at the letter for a few seconds he picked it up as though about to open it; then he flung the missive down and hurried from the room. "elsie," said aletta in agitated tones, "here is a letter from your father." elsie sprang to her feet. "read it,--read it,--aunt," she said, "perhaps the prison doors are open." aletta opened the letter with shaking fingers and read it aloud laboriously and in an agitated voice:-- "my brother gideon, "in three days from now i shall once more walk god's earth--a free man. because i worked well and did as i was bidden without question, my time of punishment has been shortened. from our cousins at stellenbosch i have obtained a wagon and oxen, by means of which i shall at once hurry home. when this reaches you i shall be well on my way. my first business must be to see you. "we two have a reckoning to make together. it will be best that we be alone when it is made. "your brother, "stephanus." aletta uttered a moan and bent forward with her face on the table. elsie, with a rapt smile on her face stood up and laid her hand upon her aunt's shoulder. then a hurried step was heard and gideon entered the room. seeing the letter lying upon the table where it had fallen from his wife's nerveless hand, gideon picked it up and hurriedly read it through. then, with a curse, he flung it down. "aletta," he cried, "i am going at once. i cannot meet him. god--why was i born this man's brother?--nine long years thirsting for my blood." "it is not your blood that he wants, uncle gideon," said elsie in a calm tone. "yes,--yes, gideon," said aletta, "go away for a time. i will keep him here and try to soften his heart." "yes,--keep him here for a time--for only a little time--but i shall go away for ever. i shall go where never a white man's foot has trod, and when i can go no farther i will dig my own grave." "do not go, uncle gideon," said elsie, "stay and meet him." "silence, blind tiger's cub that wants my blood. get out of my sight." "you will not go so far but that he will find you," said elsie as she moved from the room. "he will have his reckoning. he does not want your blood." "aletta, i have told them to inspan the wagon and start. put in my food and bedding at once. when the wagon has gone we will talk; i will follow it on horseback. i have things to tell you that will make you hate me and wish never to see my face again." "nothing could make that happen.--gideon, i know--" "wait,--let me see when this letter was written--christ! it is thirteen days old,--he must be nearly here--" gideon rushed from the room and began to hurry the servants in their preparations for departure. the oxen had just been driven down from their grazing ground high on the mountain side. the wagon had been hurriedly packed with bedding, water, food and other stores. the mob of horses were driven in from the kraal; gideon gave hurried directions to the hottentot servants as to which were to be selected. soon the wagon was lumbering heavily up the steep mountain track towards the unknown, mysterious north, in the direction where gideon had so sorely and vainly sought for the dwelling-place of peace. the horses were now caught and gideon's favourite hunting steed saddled up. the spare horses were led after the wagon by a hottentot after-rider. then gideon entered the house to take farewell of his wife. he bent down and kissed her almost passionately on the lips. "aletta," he said, "you will not understand me; nobody could. what i have done will seem to you the worst of sins;--yet to me it was right-- and yet it has hung like a millstone about my neck all these years." aletta seized one of his hands between hers. "it will fall from you if you repent," she said. "repent. never. he deserved it; i would do it again to-morrow. aletta," (here he moved towards the door, trying to disengage his hand) "stephanus never meant to shoot me; the gun went off by accident. i accused him falsely and he has suffered all these years for a thing he did not do. now,--good-bye." he again tried to escape, but aletta held him fast. "come back, come back, gideon,--i have known this for years." "known it?" "yes,--and so has elsie, although no word of it has passed between us." "do not think that i regret it; do not think that i repent. he deserved it all, and more. think of all he did to me.--and yet i fear to meet him.--that blind girl--she wants to dip her white fingers in my blood-- and yet i do not fear his killing me. do you know why i am running away from him?" "yes, you fear to meet his eyes." "that is it,--his eyes. i am not afraid of death at his hands--although i suppose god will send me to burn in hell for doing the work he keeps for his own hands.--and he means to kill me when he finds me--the white owl knows it--but his eyes--nine years chained up with blacks, thinking the whole time of his wrong and his revenge.--you remember how big and fierce his eyes used to get in anger.--i have seen them across the plains and the mountains for nine years, getting bigger and fiercer. they are always glaring at me; i fear them more than his bullet." "yes, gideon, it is well that you go away for a time. i will try what i can do. he is getting to be an old man now and anger does not burn so hotly in the old as in the young. i will not speak to him now, but when he has been free for a time i will kneel to him and beg him to forgive for marta's sake, and elsie's. elsie does not hate you, gideon." "she must, if she knows what i have done to her father. she hates me. you heard what she said about his having his reckoning. were his anger to cool she would light it anew with those eyes of hers that glow like those of a lion in the dark. but anger such as his does not cool." "gideon, you are wrong about elsie; she loves her father, but she will not counsel him to take revenge. oh, gideon, we are old now, and this hatred has kept us in cold and darkness all our lives. one little, happy year; then the first quarrel,--and ever since misery and loneliness. if he forgives, you will come back. do not take away my only hope." "he will never forgive." "i will follow him about and kneel to him every day until he forgives. then you will come back and we will again be happy--just a little happiness and peace before we die." "happy, aletta? there is no more happiness for us. he--he killed our joy years back, for ever. i go away now and i shall never return. get adrian and his wife to come and live here. for years i have known that this would happen. at first i hoped that he would die; then i knew that god was keeping him alive and well and strong to punish me for doing his work. i have made over the farm and stock to you; the papers are in the camphor-wood box. good-bye,--we must never meet again." "my husband, the desert, holds spoor a long time. the sand-storm blots it out for a distance, but it is found again farther on. when stephanus forgives i will follow you and bring you back." "no, aletta, we will meet no more. when i die my bones will lie where no christian foot has ever trod." "gideon, on the day when stephanus forgives i will go forth seeking you, and i will seek until i find you or until i die in the waste." when gideon van der walt reached the mountain saddle at the head of the kloof, across which the track which led into the desert plains of bushmanland passed, he turned and took a long look at his homestead. then his glance wandered searchingly over the valley in which his life had been passed. there it lay, green and fertile,--for the south-western rains had fallen heavily and often during the last few months. the black, krantzed ranges glowed in the noontide sun. the last spot his eye rested upon before he crossed the saddle was the little patch of vivid foliage surrounding the spring on the tiny ripples of which his life and the lives of so many others had been wrecked. just on the edge of the copse the stream seemed to hang like a bright jewel, as the sunlight glinted from the pure, limpid water. as gideon turned away his eyes grew moist for an instant, and he felt a queer, unbidden feeling of almost tenderness for the brother with whom among these hills and valleys he had played and hunted in the days of his innocence, creeping like a tendril about his heart. but he crushed the feeling down, and rode on with his hat pressed over his eyebrows. on the other side of the mountain pass the outlook was different. he was on the north-eastern limit of the coast rains. bushmanland depended for its uncertain rainfall upon thunderstorms from the north in the summer season. but for two years no rain had fallen anywhere near the southern fringe of the desert, so the plains which stretched forth northward from gideon's feet were utterly void of green vegetation. to one familiar with the desert the sight before him had an awful significance; it meant that there was no water, nor any vegetation worth considering for at least a hundred and fifty miles. gideon had known, by the fact of the larger game flocking down into the valleys, that bushmanland was both verdureless and waterless, and that anyone who should attempt to cross it would incur a terrible risk. but nothing before him could compete for terror with what he was fleeing from. setting spurs to his horse gideon passed the wagon; then he rode ahead at a walk, the patient oxen following with the rumbling wagon, upon his tracks. chapter seventeen. the return of stephanus. "come, child, it is past our time for sleep," said aletta. she was sitting on the sofa in the _voorhuis_. it was midnight of the day of gideon's departure. elsie stood at the open window which faced the south. the night was still and sultry and a dense fog covered the earth. "i shall not go to bed to-night, aunt. my father draws near. his wagon has reached the sand-belt where the dead tree stands." "nonsense, child, the sand-belt is an hour's ride on horseback from here. let us pray to god for sleep and good dreams, and then lie down until the day comes." "i shall not go to bed to-night; my father is coming." "nonsense, nonsense,--you cannot hear at such a distance." "i can hear, and the sound stills the long pain in my heart. my father draws near and nearer." "well--well--perhaps it is true--perhaps--" she fell upon her knees and threw up her clasped hands. "oh god, let him not come before my husband is far away. oh god,--i am blameless.-- grant me only this." elsie approached her with a smile, bent down and encircled her with a protecting arm and then drew her gently to a seat. "aunt,--let me talk to you: do you know that i am often very glad that i was born blind?" "glad you are blind?" "yes, because i have knowledge of many things unknown to people who can see." "what kind of things?" "many things of many kinds. for instance:--to-night you cannot see the stars; a dry mist has rolled up from the sea since we have been in this room; it covers the valley like a blanket. but the hill-tops are clear; they are hidden from you, but i can see them--and the stars above, as well.--and my father draws nearer." "god's mercy forbid. three days,--three short days is all i ask for." "where you see but clouds i see the stars; where you see danger i see joy. you fear my father without cause." "without cause.--nine long years--no cause--?" "there was cause enough, but my father is not angry." "not angry? hark. did you not hear a sound?" "yes, i hear the wild ostriches booming in the valley." "close the window and come away, child; the darkness is full of horror. you are right not to go to bed. i could not sleep to-night." "why do you fear the open window, aunt?" "the night is dark." she shuddered and crouched into the corner of the sofa. "the day is ever dark to me, yet i fear not." "last night the dogs howled and i saw white shapes flitting among the trees where the graves are." "what of that? shapes often flit about me; i call them and they are here; i bid them depart and they are gone." "child,--you are blind and thus cannot understand.--hark.--is not that a sound of shouting, afar off?" "it is but the jackals howling on the hill-side.--the time has not yet come.--but, aunt,--let me tell you farther of the things i know." "not to-night,--i am in terror enough as it is." "what i have to tell you will not terrify you, for you are guiltless." "guiltless,--yes; but god visits the sins of the guilty upon the guiltless. but it is not for myself that i fear." "one of the things which i see with clearness is that there is no reason for your terror." aletta bowed her head forward on her hands. the candle had almost burnt out; only a faint, uncertain flicker arose out of the socket. she started, and lifted her head: "listen,--that is surely a sound." "yes,--the springbucks came over the mountain last week; you hear the bellowing of the rams on the upland ledge and the clashing of their horns as they fight--but i can hear that my father draws nearer." "if he be not coming in anger, why does he hasten thus? but you cannot hear him; the sound is in your own ears." "may not one hasten in love as well as in hate? the wagon has now reached the rocky pass between the kopjes. it will soon be here." aletta arose and walked over to the window. she linked her arm in that of elsie and tried to draw the blind girl away from her post. "come to bed,--i am not so terrified as i was a while ago." "hark.--even the ears of one who is not blind can hear that." a light breeze was streaming up the valley, driving the mist before it in broken masses. from the rough, stony pass could be heard the heavy thumpings of the massive wheels. aletta once more sank to her knees in agony. "oh god,--you have brought him here.--oh god,--soften his heart--" "aunt,--god heard your prayer long before you spoke it. his heart has been softened." "no, no, child. i hear anger in the noise of the wheels and in the clappings of the whip.--nine years--nine years--and innocent.--oh god, soften his heart,--or let my husband get away.--elsie,--i charge you not to tell your father what road my husband has gone.--tell him that your uncle went a month ago.--let us go to the huts and warn the servants--" "aunt,--wait just a little while and you will see. i shall walk down the road and meet my father." "yes,--yes,--and, elsie,--pray to him for the sake of a lonely old woman who seems to have never known joy.--go, child--but wait--no, i cannot stay here alone; i fear the darkness." "come with me, aunt." "yes,--yes,--but what if it be not his wagon?" "it is my father's wagon. come." the breeze had freshened; the mist had been rolled out of the valley, leaving it clear to the stars, but the vapour hung in wisps from every mountain head and streamed away white in the shining of the rising moon. as the two walked down the road it was she who was blind that walked forward with unfaltering steps, leading her who could see, but who faltered at every yard. nearer and nearer came the clattering wagon, and the driver's voice as he shouted to the team could be clearly heard. aletta sank down upon a stone at the wayside and elsie, after walking on for a few paces, stood motionless in the middle of the road. her loosened hair floated on the wind; her tall figure, clad in fluttering white, made a striking picture in the light of the now fully arisen moon. the leader threw up his hand and stopped the team with a call; stephanus sprang from the wagon box, ran forward and clasped elsie to his breast. "my little child--grown into a woman--her face shining as brightly as the sun she has never seen, and making night like day.--but where is my brother--where is gideon--?" aletta staggered forward and knelt in the road at his feet. "oh, stephanus,--have mercy and let him be.--he fled when he heard you were coming.--have mercy.--he has suffered too--" "we both need the mercy of god.--aletta, do not kneel to me.--where is my brother gideon?" he drew the half-unconscious woman to her feet and she burst into a storm of tears. "oh, stephanus," she said, "you are not deceiving me?--tell me,--have you forgiven the wrong?" "yes, aletta,--as i hope to be forgiven. whither did gideon go? let me follow him." "thank god,--thank god, who has heard my prayer." chapter eighteen. how kanu prospered. kanu arose from his hard couch on the floor of the cavern wherein he dwelt with his followers and clambered to the top of the rocky ridge which capped the krantz at the foot of which the cavern was situated. it was hunger and thirst which drove him forth thus restlessly under the midnight stars. every night for more than a month he had sat for hours at this spot. rain had not fallen for nearly two years and the little brackish fountain in the kloof below, on which these bushmen were solely dependent for water to keep body and soul together, had shrunk and shrunk until it was reduced to a mere trickle. as the fountain shrank it became more and more brackish; so much so that after his long day of unsuccessful hunting kanu had been unable to quench his thirst at it. when he reached the top of the ridge the bushman instinctively turned his gaze to the north-east. the sky was absolutely cloudless and the stars were shining and throbbing as they only shine and throb over the desert. he sat long motionless and was about to return, sick at soul, to the cave, when he caught his breath short, and his heart gave a great throb, for a faint flash lit up the horizon for a instant. another flash, brighter than the first, soon followed. kanu clambered swiftly down the steep hill-side, wakened the other cave-dwellers and informed them of what he had seen. in a few seconds the cave was the scene of bustling activity, preparatory to an immediate migration. these distant flashes of lightning had for the little clan--or rather family of bushmen, an all-important significance, for they meant that in some distant region beyond the north-eastern horizon a thunderstorm was raging and thus the long drought had broken on the vast plains sloping northward to the mighty, mysterious gariep. the cave was situated in a spur of that rugged range of iron-black hills known as the kamiesbergen, and which were now, after the long-protracted drought, covered with blackened stumps marking the spots where, after rain, the graceful sheaves of the "twa" grass grow. the bushmen knew there was no chance of rain falling where they were, for their moisture came in the winter season in the form of wet mists from the sea. these never passed the limit of the hills. on the other hand, the only rains which visited the plains were those which swept down with the thunderstorms from the torrid north, when the great clouds advanced with roarings as though to smite the hills asunder but, within the compass of a vulture's swoop, would be stopped as though by a wall of invisible adamant and sent reeling to the eastward. it was now midsummer and the bushmen well knew that they would never be able to survive in their present situation until midwinter, before which season no rain from the southward was to be expected. for some time they had realised that their only chance of escaping a death of terrible suffering lay in cutting the track of the first thunder shower which would, as they were well aware, be the track of the others soon following. should they succeed in doing this they would revel in a belt of desert turned as though by magic into a smiling garden, full of game, and with many a rock-bottomed, sand-filled depression in which good water could be easily reached by burrowing. already the herds of famished game would be on the move, apprised by the lightning-sign of the falling of that rain which was to be their salvation:--springbucks,--flitting like ghosts under the late-risen moon; gemsbucks,--sore-footed from digging out with their hoofs the large tap-roots from which they get that supply of moisture that serves them in lieu of water to drink; hartebeests lumbering along with swift, ungainly stride, and other desert denizens in bewildering variety. hanging on the flanks of the horde might be seen the gaunt, hungry lions, seeking in vain to quench their raging thirst in the blood of their emaciated victims. when kanu found that elsie had disappeared from where he had left her among the rocks and bushes at the foot of table mountain, he took to the veldt with the intention of getting as far from the dwellings of civilised men as possible. he knew that if he returned to elandsfontein and told the van der walts his remarkable story he would never be believed, and that the consequences would be distinctly unpleasant, if not fatal, to him. so he exercised the utmost wariness, taking great precautions against the possibility of being observed by day when seeking food. it will, of course, be understood that he travelled only by night. being a bushman of intelligence kanu reflected upon many things in the course of his exciting and wearisome journey. in his untutored ignorance he classified the caucasian race arbitrarily into two categories,--the good and the bad. elsie comprised within her own person the one category; all other europeans fell into the other. cautiously feeling his way northward, kanu made a wide detour to avoid passing anywhere near the tanqua valley, and then wandered vaguely on in the hope of falling in with some of his own race. this hope was realised one morning in a somewhat startling manner. following some tracks which he had discovered leading up the stony side of a very steep mountain, he suddenly found himself confronted by a number of pygmies such as himself; each, however, with a drawn bow and an arrow which kanu knew was most certainly poisoned, trained upon him at point-blank range. kanu at once did what was the only proper thing to do under the circumstances,--he cried out in the bushman tongue that he was a friend and a brother, and then fell flat on his face and lay, with extended arms, awaiting death or the signal to arise. then he heard the warriors consulting together as to whether they should summarily despatch him or lead him captive to the cave in which they dwelt and kill him there for the amusement of the non-combatant members of the little community. they decided in favour of the latter alternative and then kanu knew that most probably his life would be spared. but as yet he was not by any means out of the wood his vestiges of european clothing caused him to be suspected and, in the savage mind, suspicion and condemnation are not very far apart. cases were familiar to all in which renegade sons of the desert had betrayed the hiding-places of their compatriots to their deadly enemies, the boers, and it was quite possible that kanu might turn out to be a traitor. but when the captive showed the unhealed stripes with which his back was still scored, the captors began to feel more kindly disposed towards him, and they eventually came to the conclusion that he was not a spy. later, when kanu told his father's name, and related the circumstances of the raid which swept his family from the face of the earth and made him a bondman to the hated boer,--and when it turned out that old nalb, the patriarch of the party, had once seen a picture painted by kanu's father who, though he had died comparatively young, had been a somewhat celebrated artist, the new arrival was accepted into full fellowship and made free of the cave and all its contents. the bushman acknowledged no chieftain, nor was he bound by any tribal ties. each family was independent of every other family and hunted on its own account. the little community into which kanu found himself adopted consisted of eight men, seven women and fourteen children of various ages. they lived after the manner of their kind,--absolutely from hand to mouth, taking no thought for the morrow. their movements about the country were determined by accidents of weather and the chase, but they retired from time to time to their cave in the kamiesbergen, whenever the adventitious rains made the locality habitable. when they, or any of them, killed a large animal, they would not attempt to remove the meat, but would camp alongside the carcase and gorge until everything but the hair and the pulverised bones was finished. the family cave, besides being endeared by many associations, had the advantage of being in the vicinity of a spring which, although its water was rather brackish, had never been known to give out completely in the severest drought. the cave had another great advantage,--that of being surrounded on all sides by a wide belt of desert, so the pygmies were not at all likely to be disturbed by inconvenient callers. it was spacious, and its walls were well adapted for the exercise of that remarkable art which the bushman practised,--the art of painting. here, on the wide natural panels were frescoed counterfeit presentments of men and all other animals with which the bushmen were familiar, in more or less skilful outline. there was no attempt at anything like perspective, but some of the figures were drawn with spirit and showed considerable skill as well as an evident natural artistic faculty. the animals most frequently represented were the eland, the hartebeeste, the gemsbok and the baboon. one picture was a battle-piece and represented a number of men being hurled over a cliff. this was old nalb's handiwork, and was executed in commemoration of an attack by some strangers upon the ancestral cave, which was repulsed with great slaughter. a few of the paintings were the work of itinerant artists, who sometimes, in seasons of plenty, wandered from cave to cave,--possibly in the interests of art,--even as royal academicians have found it necessary to visit the schools of rome and paris. such paintings could be distinguished among the others by the hand-print of the artist in paint below each. they were usually somewhat better executed than the others, and often represented animals not common in the neighbourhood, but with whose proportions the artist had evidently familiarised himself in other and, perhaps, distant parts. the paints used were ochres of different tints,--from white, ranging through several reds and browns, up to black. these were mixed with fat and with some vegetable substance to make the colours bite into the rock. some of the most vivid tints were taken from those fossils known as coprolites, in which small kernels of ochreous substance are found to exist. the brush was made of the pinion feathers of small birds. it was not long before kanu rose to a position of eminence in the little clan. he took unto himself, as wife, ksoa, a daughter of old nalb and, when that venerable leader's physical vigour began to decline, kanu gradually came to be looked upon as his probable successor. his sojourn among the boers, whilst it had told against his skill as a hunter, had sharpened his wits generally. soon he became as expert as any in the tracking of game. then he introduced a slight improvement in the matter of fixing an arrow-head to the shaft, which was immediately recognised by the superstitious bushmen as an evidence of more than human ability. thus, when old nalb met his death from thirst, after finding that the store of water-filled ostrich-eggshells which he had cached a long time previously had been broached, kanu was at once looked upon as the leader. for a few seasons peace and plenty reigned. the locusts appeared year after year, on their way to devastate the cultivated portions of the colony, and the bushmen thanked their gods for the boon, with elaborate sacrifices in which kanu officiated as high priest. then came the drought, which was attributed to the fact of one of their number having allowed his shadow to fall upon a dying ostrich in the afternoon. had this happened in the morning, it would not have mattered so much but, happening when the sun was going home to rest, and thus preventing the luminary from taking his lawful dues in the matter of supper, it was looked upon as likely to prove a deadly affront to all the spirits of the sky, who were the sun's subjects. these spirits, who sent or withheld run as pleased their capricious minds, the bushmen feared and constantly endeavoured to propitiate. the man guilty of this heinous offence was looked at askance by all, but was forgiven after elaborate and painful rites had been solemnised over him. nevertheless, when the drought increased in intensity, and the children began to sicken from drinking the salt-charged water from the failing spring, the offender found it judicious to disappear. as soon as the women had returned from the spring, bearing their bark nets full of ostrich-eggshells containing water,--the shells being closed with a wooden peg at each end, a start was made. the skins were rolled up into bundles and upon these were bound the earthen pots and the bags containing the very scanty store of grain. this grain was the seed of the "twa" grass, plundered from the store-houses of ants. the women and children were loaded to their utmost capacity of draught, whilst the men carried nothing but their bows and arrows, and their digging sticks. these last were pointed pegs of very hard wood, about eighteen inches long, stuck through round stones four or five inches in diameter, which had been pierced for the purpose. the object of the stone was to give the sticks weight in the digging. the oldest of the women was charged with the important duty of carrying fire. the bushman knew no metal and, consequently, had no tinderbox, so his only way of kindling fire was by the long and laborious process of twirling a stick with the point inserted in a log, between the palms of the hands. thus whenever a move was made from one place to another, one of the party was appointed fire-carrier. when the two sticks which invariably were carried had nearly burnt out, a halt was called and a fire lit from twigs; in this two fresh sticks were lighted; these would then be carried forward another stage. as a matter of fact kanu had learnt the use of tinder from the hottentots, and had, as a great miracle, kindled some dry and pulverised bark from a spark generated by striking a fragment of iron which he picked up at the spot where some european hunters had camped, upon a flake of quartz. but, after the principle enunciated by a modern philosopher, that it is a mistake to call down fire from heaven whenever you cannot lay your hand upon the matchbox, kanu rightly judged that his miracle would lose some of its most important advantages if repeated too often, so he reserved it for great emergencies, and allowed the time-honoured plan of fire-carrying from place to place to continue. in this kanu showed a very sound political instinct, and his example might be profitably followed by many reformers whose impatience to put the whole world straight all at once, often defeats its own ends. consider, for a moment, what the result of a popularising of the tinderbox would have been:--in the first place what was looked upon as a miracle would have ceased to be regarded as such and, with the miraculous, a good deal of kanu's influence would have gone. then,--the old woman whose function it was to carry fire-sticks would not alone have lost her importance, but would have had to carry heavy loads like the other women. not only she, but her immediate relations, might have resented this, and, accordingly, kanu would probably have weakened the allegiance of at least one-fourth of his subjects. there is nothing, in the humble opinion of the writer, which proves kanu's natural fitness for leadership so much as his having decided against the popularising of the tinderbox. now that the lightning-sign, which had been so long and so anxiously waited for, had come, the black despair which kanu and his companions had been the prey of during the last few months, gave way to sanguine hope. they knew that the ordeal which had to be endured,--the crossing of the black belt of scorched desert which lay between them and the track of the thunder shower, would strain their endurance to the utmost, but such experiences are but incidents in the life of the bushman--and he takes them as they come, without repining at fate. in their different hunting trips they had exhausted all the caches of water-filled eggshells within a distance of two days' march, but there was one cache far away on the edge of the great dune-region to the north-eastward which, if they could manage to hold out for four days on the brackish liquid which they were carrying and,--if the treasure should prove not to have been broached, would relieve their necessities for the moment, and enable them to make a successful dash for the deep and precipitous gorge through which the great gariep winds on its mysterious course to the ocean. after descending the mountain the bushmen struck across the plain in single file, heading due north-east. the men stalked ahead, trusting that their dread of prowling beasts of prey would keep the women and children, heavily laden as they were, close behind. soon the liquid beams of the morning star warned them that the friendly night was nearly over, and they quickened their paces so as to reach a long, low ridge dotted with _karee_ bushes and large arboreal aloes, which lay some distance ahead, and on the side of which some protection might be afforded from the raging sun. when day broke this ridge loomed large before them in the midst of the oceanlike plain, but before they reached it the day was well on towards noon. then water was dealt out in sparing quantities to human beings and dogs alike, and the weary wayfarers scattered about seeking shade under rock, tree and shrub. in several directions could be seen clouds of dust arising,--indications of the migrating herds of game; far and near the silent sand-spouts glided about in stately rhythm, like spectres of the daytime threading some mysterious dance-measure. early in the afternoon the clean-cut margin of a snow-white cloud projected slightly above the north-eastern horizon. this turned the expectation of rain falling upon the plains before them to a certainty, but the track of the storm-cloud was an appalling distance ahead. when the sun had somewhat declined another start was made. the women now kept together, while the men scattered out on other side of the course with digging-picks in readiness to unearth roots and tubers should the drought have left any indication of their existence above ground. each warrior wore a skin fillet around his head, into which his supply of poisoned arrows was stuck by the points, the shafts standing straight up in a circle reaching high above him. this served the double purpose of having the arrows where they could be easily got at when required, and making the braves look fierce and formidable in the event of an enemy being met with. the unbroken plain now lay before them in all its solitary horror; their only hope of relief lay a three-days agony in front. the sand,--so hot in summer on the plains of bushmanland that one can cook an egg in it several inches below the surface,--scorched their feet; it even caused the dogs to roll over and lie on their backs, howling from the pain they suffered. as night fell the men closed in, bringing the scanty supply of lizards, striped-faced desert mice with long, bushy tails, roots and other desert produce which they had succeeded in capturing or unearthing. the little band pressed on silently over the sand which had now begun somewhat to cool down, and beneath the stars which seemed so close above them in the purple vault. some of the men now remained behind to assist the weaker of the women, who were lagging, by relieving them of portions of their heavy loads. at each halt which was made for the purpose of rekindling the fire-sticks, all but the one charged with the duty of kindling the fire lay down and sank at once into deep sleep. when the sticks were once more properly alight the sleepers would be wakened by a touch and, once more, the party would steal, ghost-like, across the velvet-like sand. day broke, and when the party halted a little shade was obtained by stretching skins over sticks stuck into the ground. then a fire was soon kindled and the food obtained on the previous day cooked and eaten. another sparing ration of water was issued and, in spite of its scarcity, and of the fact that every drop was as it were their life-blood, a small libation was poured out on the sand to propitiate the spirits of the sky who so greedily drank up moisture from the thirsty earth. it was late in the afternoon of the third day when they reached the spot where the water-filled eggshells lay buried. some of the women and children had been left half a day's march behind, where they had dropped from thirst and exhaustion. fortunately the cache was found to be intact. during the night a supply of water was sent back to those left behind, and early in the forenoon of next day the whole party was once more together. their only loss was that of their best dog; the animal went mad while they were digging for the water, and rushed away to meet its death alone among the dunes. they rested all that day as well as the next night, and it was on the following day that kanu made the great discovery which more than ever convinced his followers of their leader's supernatural powers. before dawn kanu left the encampment on a solitary hunting expedition. skirting the edge of the dune-tract he went on and on, wondering sorely at the absence of game of every description. then he noticed a number of tracks of jackals, all converging towards one point. following one of these he was led to a narrow opening in a low, overhanging ledge of rock. entering the opening and groping about, he found himself in a small, oblong cave. his heart beat fast, for he distinctly smelt water. feeling along the walls of the cavern he came to an inner opening, of size just sufficient to admit the body of a man. this proved to be the mouth of a passage which dipped inward at a steep angle. kanu held his bow by one end and tried to find the bottom of the shaft, but unsuccessfully. then he carefully let himself down, feet first. soon he found himself standing,--or rather half-reclining,--with his feet in icy cold water, but the passage was so narrow that he could not stoop sufficiently to reach the water even with his hands. with some difficulty he managed to extricate himself, and then he turned and let himself down head first, having previously placed his bow across the opening and fastened a thong to it, so as to enable him to work his way back again. he drank his fill of water more delicious than anything he had tasted for years past and then hastened back to where he had left his companions. great were the rejoicings over what to all appearances was a permanent spring, the water of which was absolutely perfect in quality. the little community at once decided to make the cave their head quarters. food was plentiful and easy to obtain. on account of the general drought no water was to be found anywhere else in the neighbourhood; consequently, numbers of jackals visited the spot every night. of these, the flesh of which is looked upon by the bushman as being a special delicacy, as many as were required for consumption were slain. later, when the rains came, the herds of game returned; moreover, the vicinity proved to be rich in "veldkost," which is the name by which the edible bulbs and tubers with which the desert sometimes abounds, are known by. the years went by and these bushmen, isolated as they were from the rest of mankind, led a life of absolutely ideal happiness from their own point of view. they had no want ungratified; to them the desert and what it contained were all-sufficing. there were no other human creatures anywhere near them, so they had nothing to fear. it is a mistake to suppose that the life of the bushmen was solely that of animals. besides painting, they possessed the art of mimicry to a high degree and were, moreover, excellent actors. their plays were hunting scenes, the characters being the different animals they were accustomed to hunt. the cries, movements and peculiarities of such were imitated as accurately as was possible by human beings, and a curious tincture of humour,--humour of a kind almost unintelligible to the civilised mind, was imported into the personifications. for instance: the shifts and stratagems by means of which a trio of ostriches will endeavour to lead an enemy away from their nest,--the simulated alarm of the birds when the enemy takes a wrong direction and the comparative absence of any sign of uneasiness if he takes the right one, were hit off to the life and accentuated with an amount of drollery one might think the subject incapable of sustaining. the favourite episode for dramatic representation was the robbing of the lion of his prey. the lion's favourite time for killing is just before daybreak. after he has killed he loves to drain, at his ease, every drop of blood from the carcase of his quarry. the act of killing by the king-killer of the wilderness is a noisy affair and, if it happened within a radius of several miles, and the wind were not unfavourable, the sound was almost sure to reach the keen ears of the pygmies. then all would turn out, each being armed with a firebrand and carrying a bundle of dry, inflammable grass and twigs. approaching the spot where the kill had taken place, from different directions, the bushmen would begin to shout and jeer at the lion and call him by all sorts of ridiculous and insulting terms. if he attempted to attack, some of the inflammable stuff would at once be ignited, and the lion, no matter how enraged, would always turn tail and retreat from the blaze. all this time the circle would be gradually closing in, leaving a gap through which the baffled and furious animal could beat a retreat, snarling and showing his teeth. in the bushman's moonlit theatre this scene would be acted with astonishing skill and realism. in regions where the clans were thickly distributed, a good actor of the lion's part in this popular play would be as sure of a welcome as if he were a great painter, and thus could pick and choose his society among the different communities. kanu had much to tell his fellows about his varied experiences, and the relation of these was always more than half acted. the old, bald-headed man with the white beard who had sentenced him to be whipped, would have felt his dignity to be seriously compromised if he had seen his former victim perched on a rock mimicking him, and declaiming gibberish to a group of convulsed admirers; accentuating in a most preposterous manner every one of his worshipful peculiarities. it was in the hunting-field that the true potency of the bushman was shown. inside a wicker framework covered with the skin of an ostrich, the hunter would stalk in among an unsuspecting flock of feeding birds. with slow, swaying stride,--the long neck bent down and the beak bobbing as though pecking at the green beetles on the bushes, the counterfeit presentment of a stately, full-plumaged male would edge its way in, making the characteristic by-play which the male adopts when he wants to attract the females by an affective display of his beauties. then, one by one, the members of the doomed flock would bite the dust, and the slayer, doffing his disguise, would proceed to cut up the carcases into pieces convenient for roasting,--or else collect fuel pending the arrival of his friends with the fire-stick. thus passed the halcyon days. kanu and his men became muscular and wiry; the women and children fat and sleek. kanu was venerated by his subjects as a powerful but beneficent magician, who had gone to some wonderful "other" world and returned laden with gifts of useful knowledge. ksoa, delilah-like, tried to get him to reveal to her the secret of his power, so he told her that he had been taken captive once by a monstrous being which was about to eat him,--when a blind lioness of wonderful size, strength and beauty had set him free and destroyed his enemy. this lioness had given him as a charm a hair out of her own splendid mane. so long, he said, as this hair were not stolen from him, or lost, all would go well with him and his. if, however, the hair were to be stolen,--not alone would good fortune depart from kanu and his clan, but dire disaster would fall upon the stealer. one day, after much persuasion, kanu consented to show his wife the talisman. it had been carefully rolled around a dry leaf; ksoa marvelled greatly as she saw its length uncoiled and saw how it glinted in the sun. she did not dare to touch it, but begged of her lord to put the precious thing safely away at once, lest anything should happen to it. "what a great and wonderful lioness that must have been.--and a lioness with a mane," she commented, in an awed whisper. "yes," answered kanu, with a sigh. chapter nineteen. how stephanus pursued gideon. early in the morning after the arrival of stephanus, the mob of cattle was driven in and with the assistance of some of the hottentots a fairly good span of oxen was sorted out. then the wagon was loaded with provisions and water, and stephanus started in pursuit of the brother who had fled before his accusing face. elsie insisted on accompanying her father; stephanus, full of the trust in providence which he had attained to through suffering,--imbued with that sublime confidence which had come to him in his nine years of repentance, prayer and watching,--made no objection. a great happiness welled up in aletta's heart and seemed to transfigure her, body and soul. she felt that her dark hour had indeed been the prelude to a day brighter than her starved soul had known for many years. with feverish haste she completed the preparations for departure, and when the wagon rolled away up the steep kloof-track, its fresh team of sixteen drawing it with hardly an effort, she watched it until her sight grew dim with happy tears. then she and stephanus knelt down and he breathed forth a prayer as humbly exultant as ever the rapt singer of israel uttered like trumpet blast whose sound still fills the centuries. afterwards, stephanus followed the wagon on horseback, and aletta turned to the joyful task of garnishing the dismal, unkempt house in preparation for her husband's return. at the top of the saddle the oxen were outspanned and driven to the spring to take their last drink before entering the region of thirst. stephanus, like gideon--but with what different feelings--looked back and let his eye luxuriate upon the fertile valley. how sweet and peaceful it all looked.--how the frowning krantzes shut it in on each side, their stark forms accentuating the soft slopes that billowed away from their bases. he could see the patch of scrub that hid the spring,--and the silvern water issuing from it,--like a jewelled pendant. the forenoon sun took the foliage at an angle which turned its usual hue to a rich, full tint. that spot was the pivot upon which his life and that of his brother had turned, and from which they had been whirled off into such strange regions. he turned his gaze until it swept the blackened desert across which his course lay, but the prospect had for him no dismay. he knew by experience the dangers that lay before him, but his faith was to him as a strong shield and a buckler of might against all evil. elsie stood at his side and held his horny, toil-worn hand between hers that were so soft and white. few words passed between the father and daughter; they were content just to be together. she, happy in the fulfilment of her long-deferred hope,--he, exultant with the feeling that he was fighting satan for his brother's soul and confident of victory. the thoughts of stephanus moved upon a stage higher than elsie's could attain to. to stephanus the presence of his beloved child was enough to fill his heart with joy. she seemed to be the embodiment of peace,--the dove that had come back across the troubled waters of his life. but over and above this towered high the realisation of the task laid upon him,--the lifting of his brother's life from the slough in which it had been so long sunk. to elsie happiness and duty were one; to her father his great happiness and his burning responsibility were different and, as it were, filled separate chambers of his mind. it was noon by the time the oxen again stood in the yoke. the trail of gideon's wagon lay plainly marked across the sand, far below. stephanus could see between the stones--close to where he stood, the clear print of his brother's large _veldschoen_; gideon had here paced restlessly to and fro. yonder was the spot where he had stood gazing back into the valley which he deemed he had left for ever; there he had paused to cast his haggard eyes across the desert which he meant should be his dwelling-place henceforth. it seemed to stephanus as though he could enter into all the phases of his brother's mind at this spot where the physical conditions seemed to suggest appraisement of the probabilities of the future as well as of the results of the past. he felt as though standing on the boundary-line between two worlds. then, with brake-shoe fixed to the wheel the wagon jolted heavily down the mountain side until it reached the red and burning sand-waste which seemed to stretch northward to infinity. at every outspan place could be seen the remains of the fires lit by the fugitive. these places were far apart; it was clear that gideon had made desperate efforts to put as many miles as possible between himself and his injured brother. the wilderness was in a frightful state of aridity, so the unhappy cattle suffered much from thirst. stephanus always let them rest in the heat of the day; in the evening he would inspan and then push on through the cool hours of the night. the leader had no difficulty, by the diffused light of the stars, in following the wheel-tracks. elsie would lie sleeping in the wagon, undisturbed by the least jolt, for the surface of the plain was as soft as down. her father would walk ahead under the liquid stars, which seemed to look down upon him with more than human sympathy and understanding. during his captivity stephanus had never seen the sky at night; thus, the memory of what had always strongly influenced him became idealised in his awakened and alert soul. now, the vastness and the thrilling mystery of the night skies seemed to have fused with his purpose, and his spirit inhabited the infinite. the travellers had brought enough water in kegs for their own personal needs, but day by day the agonies of the wretched cattle increased. the hottentot driver and leader became more and more uneasy, feeling themselves in danger of that worst of all deaths,--a long-drawn death of thirst in the desert. but stephanus was sustained by his lofty trust, and never doubted that they would issue safely from their difficulties. each forenoon as the mocking mirage was painted athwart the northern sky, the clear, wide stream of the far-fountained gariep, with its fringe of vivid green boskage, seemed as though lifted out of the depths of the awful gorge and hung across the heavens for their torment. one morning they saw the red-mounded dunes quivering far ahead in the ratified air, slightly to their right. stephanus and the hottentots knew this region by repute, and accordingly recognised the fact that their last and most terrible effort was now at hand,--that now they would have to plough their way through some ten miles of sand so light and loose that the wheels of the wagon would sink in it to the axles. once through the sand-hills, they would be within a day's journey of that cleft in the black mountains through which the cattle might be driven to the river. the day smote them with fury. the sand became so hot that it blistered the soles of their feet through the _veldschoens_. the wind, heavily charged with fine, red sand, was moaning and shrieking across the waste. their only chance lay in keeping moving, for the drifting sand would have buried the wagon, if stationary, in a few hours. but the moment came when the unhappy cattle were unable to advance with the wagon another step, so had to be outspanned. the oxen staggered away for a few paces and sank exhausted to the ground. it was clear that without water, not one of them would ever rise again. it was now the eighth day since they had last drunk their fill. the hottentots surrendered themselves to despair. stephanus knelt in the sand and lifted heart and voice in supplication to his god. chapter twenty. the end of the feud. one morning kanu and his men, who had shortly before left their place of abode on a hunting expedition, were astonished at seeing the white tent of a wagon slowing moving through the sand dunes at a short distance from them. they at once dropped in their tracks and then crept into concealment for the purpose of discussing the situation. the bushmen, although the different clans often quarrelled among themselves, had one sentiment in common,--hatred of the european. after they returned to the cave there was a general furbishing-up of the best arrows, a testing and a tightening of the bow-strings and a performance of the war sacrifice. this last consisted in drawing a small quantity of blood from the right knee of each warrior, mixing it in an earthen bowl with a small quantity of arrow-poison and pouring the mixture out upon the ashes of the previous night's fire. then, with arrows erect around their heads, they looked impatiently towards their leader for the signal to attack. the wagon was only about a couple of miles away; the white tent intermittently gleaming between the driving clouds of sand. among the broken hillocks the strangers were quite at the mercy of an attacking force, no matter how small. thus, the pygmies might have crept right up to the wagon without being noticed, and discharged their deadly shafts from within point-blank range, settling the business with one noiseless volley. but kanu did not give the signal; he sat with his head bowed in thought, and his braves looked at him and at each other in astonishment. kanu reflected. he was aware of many things beyond the cognisance of his followers. one thing had specially impressed him during his captivity,--the implacable vengeance with which the boers pursued the marauders who murdered their friends and stole their cattle. this wagon had certainly come much farther than any wagon had ever come before, and it was not likely to be followed by others. better not interfere with it. the cave had not been discovered; it was impossible that any white men would come and settle in the waterless neighbourhood. tempting as was the opportunity of wreaking vengeance for many wrongs, policy demanded that they should forego it, so kanu threw down his bow, plucked the arrows from his head and said that he had been told by the spirits not to attack these people. it was a critical moment and, had kanu's authority not been far more strong than that which the bushman leader usually held over his followers, his orders would have been disregarded. however, no attack was made and the wagon was permitted to proceed upon its laboured course unmolested,--the people with it little deeming of their narrow escape. two days afterwards another wagon was reported to be proceeding along the same course, and kanu saw by the demeanour of his followers that he would probably be unable to restrain them from attacking, so he led them forth, and the little band took up its position in a patch of scrub which crowned a small sand-hill overlooking the two-days-old track. the travellers were evidently in terrible straits, and before they reached the ambush the oxen collapsed. leaving his braves with strict injunctions not to move before his return, kanu went towards the wagon for the purpose of reconnoitring. creeping sinuously among the hollows between the hillocks over which the streaming sand was being swept like spray from the crests of waves, he crept up to within a few yards of the wagon and lay, concealed by a bush, watching it intently. just then elsie came out of the tent and stood, protecting her face from the stinging sand with her hands, and with her hair streaming in the wind. kanu started. the figure and the hair suggested elsie, but he could not see the face, and the girl had grown almost beyond recognition. then stephanus arose from where he had been kneeling at the other side of the wagon and stood at his daughter's side. kanu recognised his former master in an instant, and now had no doubt as to elsie's identity. throwing down his bow and arrows, he strode forward and called out:-- "baas stephanus--miss elsie--here is kanu." stephanus turned and gazed at the bushman with astonishment. elsie stepped forward with hands outstretched to greet her old guide and preserver. "kanu," she cried, "can you get us water?" "yes,--the water is close at hand." "god, who has sent this creature to succour us, i thank thee," said stephanus, solemnly. "baas must give me a small present of tobacco, so that i may soothe the hearth of my people," said kanu. with his hands full of the much-coveted treasure kanu sped back to his impatient band. no one knows how, when or where the bushmen learnt the use of tobacco. when first the europeans came in contact with them they were evidently accustomed to its use. in an instant the rancour of the warriors was turned into extravagant delight. with these children of the wilderness the transition from ferocity to amiability was instantaneous, and the one sentiment arose as unreasonably and inspired them as completely as the other. immediately they crowded around the wagon, ready to assist with all their power those who a few minutes previously they would have delighted to put to a cruel death. soon every keg and other utensil in the wagon capable of holding water was carried over to the spring and then the water was dealt out by willing hands as fast as circumstances would permit. vessels were afterwards borne from one to the other of the famishing oxen and each animal was allowed to take a sup at a time. all through the afternoon this went on, until the cattle were once more able to arise. kanu told stephanus of another spring which he had discovered among the mountains to the north-west, about half a day's journey away, and thither the oxen were taken during the night, and allowed to drink their fill. then, after a day's rest they were driven back to the wagon. the bushmen and their womenkind were, in the meantime, made happy with liberal presents of tobacco, coffee and sugar. the tobacco had a most curious effect upon them. they smoked it through a rough kind of a hookah made out of a hartebeeste's horn, a stone bowl and a piece of reed a few inches in length. there was no mouth-piece, so the smoker pressed his mouth into the natural aperture at the base of the horn, and inhaled the smoke. it was thus that they were accustomed to smoke the "dagga" or wild hemp. after each smoker had filled his lungs and again emptied them about a dozen times, he passed on the pipe to a companion, and then laid himself upon the ground where, after becoming slightly epileptic, he stiffened from head to feet and lay unconscious and scarcely breathing for some minutes. the women enjoyed the coffee and sugar, which were delicacies they knew of only by report, with great zest. they were not satisfied with merely drinking the beverage, but insisted on eating the grounds also. these artless, cruel, innocent and murderous savages made their guests royally welcome, when the latter visited the camp. they entertained the strangers with songs, dances and dramatic performances, and presented them with a supply of edible roots some of which proved exceedingly good eating. stephanus soon ascertained from kanu that gideon's wagon had passed but a few days previously. it was evident that gideon meant to cross the dune-tract at its junction with the mountain range that skirts the river gorge, and then make for the eastward. kanu accompanied them when they returned to the wagon, and then he and elsie had a long talk, relating to each other their respective adventures since they had last met. elsie was struck by an idea. "kanu,--will you do something for me?" "anything that young mistress asks of me." "well,--i want you to go after the other wagon, steal all the oxen and horses and bring them to me." "yes,--that can easily be done." "mind,--you are not to kill or harm anyone, but just to bring the cattle and horses to me." "yes, i understand." in the cool of the evening a start was made. the oxen, refreshed by their drink, stepped out briskly. thus, long before daylight came again they had succeeded in passing through the heavy sand. the ground now immediately before them was easy to travel over. when outspanned for breakfast they saw a lot of cattle and some horses being driven towards them. these were gideon's,--stolen by the bushmen at elsie's instigation. stephanus, who had not been told of the plot, laughed loud and long at elsie's stratagem for stopping gideon's flight. gideon's journey across the desert had not been so difficult as was that of his pursuer. his team was composed of picked oxen that were well accustomed to such work, and the day on which fell the crisis of the journey,--the crossing of the dune-belt,--was comparatively cool. nevertheless, the cattle were almost exhausted when he outspanned on the salt-impregnated ridge on which the mission station of pella now stands--just opposite the head of the deep kloof which breaks through the otherwise impassable mountains, thus affording a way to the orange river. this kloof is about eight miles long, and the cattle were hardly able to stagger down it to the drinking place. when the animals smelt the water from afar they uttered pitiful lowings, and those that were less exhausted broke into a stumbling run. it was found impossible to bring the span back to the wagon until they had rested for a couple of days. gideon, chafing with impatience, remained with the wagon. the servants replenished the kegs with water and then returned to the river bank, where they remained with the cattle. gideon, in his loneliness, was the prey of the most miserable apprehensions. in estimating possibilities he had always endeavoured to place himself in his brother's situation and by this means had driven from his mind the possibility of stephanus being otherwise than absolutely implacable. he pictured the injured man hurrying, immediately after his release, to the farm, his whole mind bent on the wreaking of his long-panted-for revenge. then, how he would have foamed with fury at finding that the one in whose blood he had so longed to imbue his fingers, had escaped. of course a hot pursuit would be immediately undertaken, and it would be as keen and relentless as that of a blood-hound. the thought of this man, whose eyes he dreaded more than he dreaded the face of death, pressing furiously after him across the blackened waste was ever before his vision, sleeping or waking. he had not the slightest doubt that stephanus was following him, for it was exactly what he felt he would have done himself to stephanus under similar circumstances, but he drew a little comfort from the conclusion that his pursuer could not have crossed the scorched desert anything like as quickly as he himself had done. the raging heat of the past few days had been as balm to his suffering spirit. others had died in bushmanland--even when it had not been as arid as it now was; why not stephanus? but, he reflected, he had never expected his hotheaded brother,--the restless, passionate man who could never brook restraint in any form, to survive his long term of imprisonment; his heart should have broken years ago. well,--here in the desert it was a case of man to man, and each was a law unto himself. one thing was sure: if his vengeful brother persisted in following him now,--if stephanus would not even leave him the starved desert as his lonely portion,--then the wide earth was not spacious enough to hold them both. he was doing his best to put the miles between them; if stephanus followed he did so at his own risk and must abide by the consequences. but for the dread of hell-fire gideon would have ended it all years ago, by means of a bullet through his own brain. that would be nothing,--the bullet,--but gideon imagined his soul standing, immediately afterwards, naked before the vestibule of the pit, listening to the roaring of the flames and the shrieks of the damned, and awaiting its own summons to enter. after the cattle and horses had been driven back to the wagon from the river, it was necessary for them to be allowed a night's grazing on the edge of the plains, no grass having been found on the river bank. so the horses were hobbled and turned out to graze with the oxen. the leader was strictly enjoined to get up before daylight next morning and bring the animals back to the wagon in time to admit of an early start being made. there were tracks of lions visible here and there, but the risk of beasts of prey had to be taken. gideon now meant to turn due east, cross the "neck" which connects the dune-tract with the river mountains, and plunge into the unknown country beyond. next morning, soon after daylight, the herd returned, terrified, and reported that both oxen and horses had been driven off by bushmen. gideon's heart stood still. this appeared to be proof of what he had often suspected, that the lord had singled him out for relentless persecution because he had done his work of vengeance. however, there was only one thing now to be done: to pursue the marauders and attack them at all hazards. arming the leader and driver and taking his own gun, he left the wagon and its contents to their fate and started on the spoor. to his surprise he found that the spoor, instead of leading into the rough ground, as was invariably the case when animals were stolen by bushman marauders, led back along the track made by his own wagon. after walking for about an hour he reached the top of a low ridge from which the eye could range for an immense distance across the plains. then gideon saw what made the blood curdle in his veins with horror. a wagon which he knew must be that of stephanus was approaching and behind it was being driven a mob of loose cattle and horses which he could not doubt were his own. the hottentots raised a shout of joy; to their astonishment gideon turned and fled back across the plains towards his wagon. the miserable man now became insane in his terror. his only thought was to escape,--to hide from the face of the man he had so greatly wronged. fear lent wings to his feet and, by the time stephanus had reached the top of the ridge where the two hottentots were waiting in their perplexity, gideon had almost reached his wagon. stephanus, overjoyed at hearing that his brother was so close at hand, at once mounted his horse and rode forward. gideon took refuge in the wagon and laid himself down with his loaded gun in his hand. he had made up his mind as to what he would do in this last emergency:--he would allow his brother to approach and, when he arrived within point-blank distance, would cover him with the gun and bid him stand. then he would solemnly warn stephanus not to approach, holding him at parley where he stood. if the warning should be disregarded gideon determined to shoot his brother dead, but he hoped not to be driven to do this. he would force stephanus, under the muzzle of the gun, to swear to go back and trouble him no more. he would say:--"your life is mine, here in this lawless land, to destroy by the mere slight pressure of my finger upon the trigger against which it rests.--it is mine,--forfeit because you have pursued me when i tried my best to avoid you, and driven me to bay.--i give it to you in exchange for the wrong i have done you. take it and go in peace and i will never cross your path again,--but come one step nearer and you are a dead man with your blood upon your own revengeful soul." as the past is said to crowd upon the consciousness of a drowning man so these thoughts, wild and half-unformulated, hurtled against the distracted consciousness of gideon van der walt as he lay shaking in the wagon, holding his loaded gun with the muzzle projecting through the slit in the canvas which, he had made with his knife for the purpose. every few seconds he lifted his head and glanced out with fevered eyes to see whether his enemy were approaching. at length he saw what his eyes had been seeking with expectant dread; riding down the long slope swiftly on a stout pony was a man with a long, snow-white beard, whom he recognised as stephanus.--but what did this mean? his brother was unarmed.--but perhaps the gun was concealed--slung from the saddle behind as guns were sometimes carried in the hunting-field.--no,--the pony swerved to avoid a shrub,--stephanus was certainly unarmed. he was riding in his shirt-sleeves and not even a switch did he carry in his hand. surely, gideon thought, the man who was engaged in this implacable pursuit could not expect his enemy to allow him to approach to within gripping distance. no matter,--gideon would challenge his brother when he came close, and bid him stand if he valued his life.-- but would the man who had tenaciously held to a trail across bushmanland in a black drought stand still when bidden? gideon felt sure that he would not. well,--he must shoot,--there was nothing else for it. as stephanus came nearer gideon could see clearly the silvery whiteness of his beard. he thought of the last time his eyes had rested on his brother's face, when the sentence was pronounced, and that then the beard was as black as the wing of a raven. then a sudden horror struck him to the heart.--he could not--could not--stain his already guilty hands with this man's blood, after having ruined his life. the threatened curse of cain thundered in his ears. with a wild shriek he sprang from the wagon, and fled among the naked, piled-up rocks which formed the base of the hideous mountain at the foot of which his wagon stood. unheeding the shout of stephanus, gideon sped on, leaping from boulder to boulder in his mad endeavour to avoid the presence of the man against whom he had so terribly sinned. by some curious trick of thought his brother, thus unarmed, was more formidable to his maddened and guilty soul than had he come with a primed and loaded gun. a dread of some such fascination as the snake is said to exercise over his victim possessed him; he felt that once under his brother's eyes he would be bound and helpless. it was a terrible illustration of the dread which the malefactor sometimes feels towards the one he has wronged. stephanus followed steadily, his heart full of its lofty purpose. he knew that his brother could not escape him now,--that the moment he had longed for through the slow years was at hand. serene in his trust, confident in his faith that providence was directing his and gideon's steps, and that neither could stumble until god's purpose had been fulfilled, he breasted the steep, rugged incline with a careful and methodical expenditure of energy. soon the mountain narrowed to a wedge-shaped slope of an easier gradient, which culminated in a naked peak on each side of which a black gulf yawned. under this, at a sheer depth which it made the senses dizzy to contemplate, the mighty river, now turbidly brimming from the heavy thunder-rains which had fallen upon its course, rolled down between fringes of tall green timber. when gideon saw that he was trapped,--that in front of him and on either hand were perpendicular cliffs, and behind him the brother whose face he dreaded more than the face of death, such a mighty cry of agony and despair issued from his deep chest that the dead, black chasms seemed for the instant to become peopled with lost souls. then, nerved with the courage of despair he turned and faced his pursuer. "keep back--keep back," he shouted hoarsely, "or i will shoot you dead and follow you to hell over the krantz." "you cannot do it, my brother," called out stephanus; "the shield of the lord would turn the bullet aside and his hand would bear you up from the depths." "stand, i tell you.--stand.--another step and you are a dead man." stephanus continued to approach, so gideon lifted his gun and pulled the trigger, but the powder flashed in the pan. stephanus never faltered, but walked composedly to where the desperate man was hastily endeavouring to reprime the gun with loose powder from his pocket. stephanus laid his hand on his brother's shoulder and gideon at once ceased in his attempt,--the gun slipped from his nervous fingers and crashed upon the stones, and he sank, swooning, to the ground. when he regained consciousness gideon found himself supported by the arms of his brother, whose eyes, deep with love and dimmed with pity, looked steadily into his own. then his sin, his anguish and his terror slipped from him like a cast-off garment, and for the first time in his manhood he wept. it did not need much to be said on either side for an understanding, full and complete, to be at once established. it was as though the unveiled souls looked at each other, revealing all and wholly revealed. before turning to retrace their steps the brothers stood for a short space and looked forth across the awful, titanic chaos, in the convoluted depths of which the weary river hurried improvidently along with its wasted load of fertilising wealth. the sun had nearly sunk; already the dark chasms were full of almost opaque gloom, above which the rarefied air quivered around each sun-scorched mountain head, seeming to cap it with thin, colourless flame. in the north-east a great crudded cloud lifted its soaring towers into the blue heart of the awful aether. pure white on the side lit by the sun, on the other it was deep purple, and through it shafts of lightning were incessantly playing. higher and higher it towered, sweeping past at a distance of a few miles. now and then during the pauses of the thunder could be heard the low roar of the rain which fell like the fringe of a pall from the lower margin of the immense mass. then they knew that the black, two-years' drought was over,--that along the track over which they had so laboriously struggled a few short days since, the flowers would be bursting forth in a few hours and the rocky depressions brimming with silvern water. stephanus' wagon had in the meantime arrived and was standing, outspanned, close to that of gideon. elsie stood near it, her face turned to the mighty thunder-chariot from which a refreshing wind, laden with the ichor of the fallen rain, stirred the richness of her hair. she turned as her quick ear caught the sound of their approaching footsteps, and it seemed to them as though the spirit of peace inhabited her and looked out from the unfathomable depths of her sightless eyes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ glossary. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "alle wereld" "whole world": equivalent to "good gracious." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ baas: master. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ baviaan: baboon. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ benauwdheid: indigestion. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ bultong: dried meat. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ cappie: a sun bonnet. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ dassie: a rock-rabbit or coney. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ field cornet: rural official with powers resembling those of a justice of the peace. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ karee bush: a shrub; rhus viminalis. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ kloof: a valley. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ krantz: a cliff. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ nachtmaal: the lord's supper. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ onbeschafte: unshorn; uncivilised. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ oom: uncle. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ pan: a depression in the ground which sometimes contains water. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ rhebok: an antelope which frequents mountain heights. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ tanta: aunt. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ schepsel: creature; a term of tolerant contempt. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ stoep. the platform in front of or at the side of a house. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ sassatyes: flakes of pickled meat cooked with skewers stuck through them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ spoor: trail. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ veldschoen: a heelless, home-made boot. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ voorhuis: the sitting-room in a boer homestead. proofreading team. origin of the anglo-boer war revealed the conspiracy of the th century unmasked by c.h. thomas of belfast transvaal formerly orange free state burgher second edition london: hodder and stoughton paternoster row mcm _butler & tanner the selwood printing works frome and london_ notice the present book had been intended for publication in south africa before the end of , with the object of laying bare the wicked and delusive aims of the afrikaner bond combination, to which the anglo-boer war alone is attributable, and to counteract its disastrous influences so far as then still possible. but until quite lately circumstances had conspired so as to prevent the writer from leaving the transvaal, and when he at last obtained the required passport to lourenço marques he was there denied a permit to visit a colonial port. he therefore sailed for london in order to publish this book without more loss of time. though too late to serve as a deterrent, the contents may be effective towards showing up the really guilty parties--the instigators and seducers of the deluded boer nation, and so pave and widen the avenue of peace and of conciliation between boer and briton who were duped and victimized alike. the exposure of the actual culprits and originators should also operate favourably, and in mitigation in behalf of the much less guilty boers, so as to dispose the victors to the exercise of magnanimous consideration. in exposing the villainy of the dutch coterie in holland, the writer is far from impugning the honourable character of that nation, the better part of whom, when once undeceived, will be the first to reprobate and disown those arch-plotters who sacrificed the peace of south africa for personal and national advantage. some other information regarding the boers and south africa will be found interspersed in this study, which will be found of use to the uninitiated and to intending emigrants to that sub-continent. as the reader proceeds with the examination of this book it will suggest comparisons and even analogies which may commend themselves as singularly apposite and instructive in relation with the study of the presently budding eastern question. c.h. thomas note to second edition the issue of a second edition has afforded an opportunity to correct a few linguistic blemishes, but the work has only been very slightly revised. contents page notice v introduction cursory history of the boer nation prosperity of boers and political relations with england up to transvaal history--suzerainty treatment of uitlanders, franchise, venality, bribery monster petition, jameson incursion, armaments bloemfontein conference, boer ultimatum boer language the dutch coterie, its seat in holland afrikaner bond--outlines and programme pacific policy of great britain press propaganda--secret service--trade rivalries disloyalty of colonial boers portuguese territory--transvaal low veldt--malaria--horse sickness climate and topography boer preparedness for war alliance of orange free state with transvaal--suzerainty squabble--transvaal armaments prior to jameson raid the transvaal dynamite and explosives monopoly boer fighting strength boer conservatism, education, dundee dossier, anti-english pamphlet entitled "a hundred years' injustice" an old free stater's admonition modus vivendi suggested by old free stater mr. chamberlain's policy to avert war afrikaner bond guilt in gradations rÉsumÉ boers' native policy england's native and colonial policy occult operations and agencies religion physique and habits president krÜger peace adjustments introduction apart from the progress of the present anglo-boer war a world-wide interest has been excited also upon the question of its actual origin. much disparity of opinion prevails yet as to how it was provoked and upon which side the guilt of it all lay. english statesmen of noblest character and best discriminating gifts are seen professing opposite convictions; one party earnestly asserting the complete blamelessness of their government, whilst the other, with equally sincere assurance, denounces the responsible ministry for having provoked a most unjust war against a totally inoffensive people, whose only fault consisted in asserting its love of freedom, and for thus plunging the entire british nation into blackest guilt deserving universal reprobation, a blot and stigma upon her majesty's reign. in following the course of the arguments which have led to those opposing verdicts, one is impressed with the paucity and the clashing character of the information adduced. the marked reticence on the part of the british cabinet in regard to its diplomatic proceedings tends further to mystify the inquirer, and leaves the bulk of the british nation in a painful state of suspense without conclusive data for judging whether the war is really justifiable or not. nor do the various pamphlets and press articles furnish sufficient light for exploring the maze and producing an approximate unanimity of conviction. it is hoped that the succeeding pages will be found to supplement the material so essential for diagnosing those grave questions with some degree of certainty, and to locate the guilt more precisely. since my youth i have passed nearly forty years in uninterrupted and intimate intercourse with all classes of boers, resulting in a sincere attachment to that people, with no small appreciation of its many good traits and character. besides making myself familiar with the earlier portion of that nation's history, i have had leisure and opportunities to closely follow up its later interesting phases up to the present moment. these presented a more perplexing aspect during the last decade, adding a zest to my endeavours for unravelling them, and happening to be a good deal in the know i felt that i might not remain quiet. being anything but anti-boer, nor an englishman, but a foreigner, born of continental parents and brought up in europe, these facts should exempt me from a supposition of bias in exonerating england. it is with real grief that i must record my convictions against the boer nation as solely and entirely guilty, but with this qualification, that its responsibility is much attenuated by the fact, as i will endeavour to show, that the bulk of that people has been unconsciously decoyed as tools of a gigantic intrigue, a conspiracy which was originated some thirty years ago by an infamous hollander coterie, and operated since by its product and engine, the now well-known "afrikaner bond association," with its significant motto of "afrika voor afrikaners"[ ]--its object being no less than the eviction of all that is english from south africa, and to substitute a federation of all south african states into one free and independent republic, the affiliation to be with holland instead, and dutch the common and official language, other nations, in return for afforded aid, to participate in the trade and other advantages wrested from england. i only regret that my ability falls so much short for the task of demonstrating all this in an approved style--for doing justice to the subject. its investigation embraces a wider range of details to serve as evidence than may, upon first thought, be held as relevant; but i believe that a willing study will show their connection as serviceable for arriving at an independent and unhesitating verdict. a very strong and convincing case is indeed needed for remodelling opinions where there is preconceived boer partisanship, and where party spirit or else foreign jealousy have already warped judgment and established bias. it would be no small relief to every honest-minded person, especially in england, to be clear upon the subject that england is free of guilt--equally so to the soldier who is called upon to fight her battles. but other objects of no less importance are in view, viz., to open the eyes of the misguided boer people to the wicked artifices by which it has been seduced from friendly relations with england into an unjustifiable war, to deter the still wavering portion from joining the ranks of sedition, and, lastly, the grounds for palliation being recognised, to pave the way to an early termination of the war by adjustments which could restore mutual goodwill and respect between the contending parties, and so bring about a speedy return of south african prosperity and progress. the writer is fully prepared to give data and names of the incidents adduced in this paper in support of their authenticity. footnotes: [footnote : africa for white african citizens.] cursory history of the boer nation the two principal elements of the boer nation were the settlers of the dutch trading company at the cape of good hope, sturdy farmers and tradesmen belonging to the proletarian class of holland, and a subsequent contingent of french huguenot refugees and their families who joined as colonists soon after the revocation of the edict of nantes. i mention below the names still existing which form a large proportion of the present boer nation of huguenot descent:-- billion blignaut bisseux delporte du prez du toit de la bey durand davel de langue duvenage fourie fouché grove hugo jourdan lombard le roux roux lagrange labuscaque maré marais malan malraison maynard malherbe de meillon de marillac matthée naudé nortier rousseau taillard theron terblanche de villiers fortier lindeque vervier vercueil basson pinard duvenage celliers de clercq leclercq devinare men of the best french stock, noted for honour, energy and perseverance, rather than recant their protestant faith, abandoned seigneurial homes, high positions and lucrative callings to carve out fresh careers, and even to become humble farmers wherever they found asylums and tolerance, men who became very valuable accessions to the nations who received them and a correspondingly significant loss to france. to those two main elements were added sparse accessions from other nations at later intervals, and also a strain of aboriginal blood, of which a more or less faint tinge is still discernible in some families, an admixture which many deplore and others consider as most serviceable, supplying a subtle piquancy for perfecting the general stock. the early cape governors aimed at the prompt assimilation of those french people with their own colonists--to make dutchmen of them. among other drastic enactments to enforce that object, no other language but dutch was permitted to be used in public of pain of corporal punishment. not a few noble frenchmen were subjected to that indignity for inadvertent breaches of that draconian law, but, as conscientious observers of biblical commands which enjoin subjection to all governmental rule, they willingly submitted and obeyed. intermarriages with their dutch fellow-colonists further promoted assimilation into one cohesive community. at the same time the huguenot faith was transmitted to their descendants, and had a marked influence in sustaining common religious fervour and consistency. they did not look for a reward or compensation for the sacrifices endured, for the sake of faith, by those refugees, though a gracious providence, as the sequel showed, held in store a most ample restitution--magnificent heirlooms for their later descendants, heirlooms which are now unhappily staked in this present war. in a payment of six millions sterling received by the prince of orange closed the transfer of the dutch cape settlement to great britain. immigration of english settlers followed and the area of the colony soon largely extended. as under the dutch _régime_, the practice of slavery had continued until its abolition in by the ransom payable by the english government to the owners of slaves. the boer colonists deeply resented that act, and especially the next to impracticable condition which provided that payments could only be received in england instead of on the spot. many were cheated of all their emancipation money by their appointed proxies or agents, or else had to submit to exorbitant charges and commissions; a great number voluntarily renounced all in disgust. by that time the existence had become known of promising tracts of country lying north of the orange river beyond the confines of the british colonies, and a large number of boers combined with the intention of establishing an independent community northwards free from british restraint. the british authorities appeared at that time not to fully realize that that movement was rife with future dangers and complications to their own colonial interests, that it meant the creation of a nucleus of a people openly averse to the english, and who would independently carry out practices in near proximity, especially in dealing with aborigines, which would seriously compromise them and become a standing menace against peaceful expansion and civilization. it was, on the other hand, anticipated that the movement could only end in disaster, the people being too few to make a successful stand against the numerous hostile kaffir tribes. the government, therefore, refrained from preventive measures, and confined its efforts to discouraging the emigration and to reconcile the malcontents. those efforts, however, proved fruitless; the people held to their project with resolute fearlessness and self-confidence, and were even content to sacrifice their farms and homesteads, their sale being in some cases forbidden by special enactment. the terms of "boer" and "boer nation" do not convey or mean anything disparaging, rather the contrary. boer simply means farmer, as a rule the proprietor of a farm of about , to , acres, who combines stock-breeding with a variety of other farming enterprises as well, according to the soil and locality. as a national designation, the term "boer" conveys the distinction from the recently arrived dutchman, who is called "hollander." hollanders, again, delight of late to claim the boer nation as their kith and kin, but prefer to ignore the existence of the french huguenot factor. the great "trek," with families and movables, as the emigration movement is called, occurred in ; some families started even before, and other contingents followed shortly afterwards. after many vicissitudes and nearly twenty years of wanderings, and a nomadic life attended with untold hardships and dangers, intermittent conflicts with native tribes, and at times also contests with british forces, they were eventually permitted, under treaty with england, to settle down and to constitute the independent orange free state and transvaal republics. that was in and respectively. but, until then, progress in the british colonies and peaceful relations with the several kaffir nations had at times been sadly impeded by the aggressive native policy pursued by the boers after the pattern adopted from the previous dutch _régime_, which admitted of slavery, whilst english law had abolished and forbade that practice as contrary to a soundly moral method of civilizing natives and inimical to prosperous and peaceable colonial progress. broils and wars between boers and kaffirs had been almost incessant, and intervals of peace only proved their mutually latent hostility. besides being occasionally engaged in unavoidable wars with neighbouring tribes themselves, it became frequently incumbent upon the british military authorities to intervene in conflicts induced by the boers, alternately protecting them against natives and natives against the boers, and all that at the unnecessary expenditure of much blood and treasure. the boer occupation of natal was found to be wholly prejudicial to british interests on aforesaid accounts, and was, besides, contrary to the express declaration of the boer emigrants at the time of their exodus from the cape colony, which was that their new settlements should be located north of the orange river. stepping in to the eastward and claiming part of the littoral constituted a rivalry in conflict with that understanding, and england therefore considered it within her rights to expel the boers from natal, and to proceed with the colonization there with british settlers instead. that temporary occupation of natal had been fraught to the boers with most stirring episodes--some of the most melancholy description, and others representing records of really unsurpassed heroism, which can but arouse deepest emotions and admiration in any reader of their history. there was the treacherous massacre of retief and potgeiter and his party by the zulu king dingaan at his military kraal, followed by other wholesale massacres of men, women, and children at weenen and other boer camps in natal. then came the punitive expedition of boers, armed with flint-locks only, who utterly defeated dingaan's most redoubtable impi of , warriors, and resulted in the complete overthrow of that zulu monarch. when that punitive boer commando was about to start upon its mission it was solemnly vowed to observe a day of national thanksgiving each year if divine aid were vouchsafed to accomplish the object. that brilliant victory had occurred on the th december, , and the day has ever since been religiously observed as had been vowed. the celebrations in the transvaal take place at paarden-kraal, near johannesburg, and some other accessible and central camping grounds, where the burghers with their families congregate in thousands--a sort of feast of tabernacles, lasting three days, undeterred by the most boisterous weather. the declaration of independence fell on that same date at paarden-kraal in , and it was also in december of the succeeding year that the boers proved victorious over the british troops in natal, after which the transvaal had its independence generously restored by the gladstone ministry (subject to treaty ). on those anniversaries stirring speeches would be made by the elder leading men, rehearsing the events of the nation's history so as to grave them upon the minds of the younger, and to revive the thankful memories of the elder people. it is only in human nature that unsympathetic feelings against the english would intrude upon the thanksgivings on those occasions, especially as it continues yet to be averred that the british authorities had incited the zulu king dingaan to those massacres. nevertheless, except in instances of implacable natures, the predominant sentiments at those gatherings were those of gratitude to the almighty and good-will towards all men. after the peace of , it used to be publicly recognised that the english were entitled thenceforth to a first place in the nation's friendship, and that the retrocession put a term to all recriminations applying to previous dates. the sequel has shown that soon afterwards another spirit was allowed to intrude to displace those good and just sentiments, and that without any reason or provocation and despite a persistently loyal and sincere attitude of friendship and confidence observed towards the boers by the, british government and the english people in south africa. as instances may be cited: ( ) england's conceding spirit in assenting to a modification of the convention of and agreeing to that of ; ( ) genial treatment of the colonial boers on perfect equality with english colonists, sharing in the privileges of self-government, the dutch language also raised to equal rights with english; ( ) most harmonious relations with the orange free state; ( ) reduction of transit duties for goods to the republics to per cent, and later to per cent.; ( ) unrestricted privilege for the importations of arms and ammunition to both republics. in lieu of friendly reciprocity the return began to be rancorous mistrust and revival of hatred. in the course of our study to account for this sad and unwarrantable change on the part of the boers we will be following the trail of the serpent and track it right up to its hollander lair and to its at first unsuspected product, the afrikaner bond. prosperity of boers and political relations with england up to a period of about twenty-five years following the establishment of the orange free state and transvaal republics was marked with much progress and prosperity in the cape colonies and natal, both republics also having cause to rejoice over similar advancement. the evil influence which aimed at rending good relations between boer and english became more apparent after . during the preceding era the two races actually had been in a fair way towards friendly assimilation. mutual appreciation was further stimulated by the reciprocal benefits arising from trade and economic relations. intermarriages became more frequent under such friendly intercourse, a respectable englishman being truly prized in those days as a boer's son-in-law. the english language also largely advanced in favour and prestige not only among the cape colonial and natal boers, but also in both republics, and anti-english sentiments were fast being supplanted by amity and goodwill. the principal event in the orange free state during that period was a three years' exhaustive war with the basuto nation, which ended in the latter's defeat in . their chief moshesh then appealed for british intervention. the basutos thus came under england's protection, and a peace resulted which has ever since continued, through british prestige and authority as well as good government. the orange free state gained a large tract of the territory conquered by that state, but had to renounce the rest. then, in about , came the discovery of the diamond-fields, situated on the then still ill-defined western limits of the state. according to a boundary line claimed by great britain, those diamond-fields fell outside free state territory. that state received £ , compensation for improvements and expenses incurred during its short occupation of that disputed strip of diamondiferous ground. the diamond-fields at jagersfontein and koffyfontein were subsequently discovered and lie deep within the confines of the state. president brand had proved his sagacity and discretion in concluding the negotiations with england upon the question of the peace with the basutos and then again in submitting to the boundary delimitations, it being contended even yet that the orange free state had the weightier arguments in its favour in both instances. the people of that republic proved however to be the ultimate gainers in those adjustments; they did not miss the more solid advantages attending the discovery of the diamond-fields. believed of the grave responsibility involved in governing a turbulent population of foreign diggers, the geographical position of the kimberley fields secured to the free state farmers an almost entire monopoly in the supply of products; trade also flourished apace, all tending to enrich the inhabitants and the state revenue as well. but the orange free state derived a permanent advantage, quite unique and more than compensating the apparent set-back suffered by the loss of the diamond-field territory and by british intervention in the basuto war matter, in that the method of those procedures saddled england with the responsibility of guaranteeing the internal safety of the state from those hitherto unprotected borders "altogether at her own cost." the keate award completed the british cordon around the free state, excepting only in regard to the transvaal frontier. no need thenceforth for costly military provisions for the protection of the state--it was, as it were, walled and fenced in at british expense, and the state revenue was thus for ever relieved of a very heavy item of expenditure, which could be devoted to the increase of the national wealth instead--a peaceful security accompanied with an intrinsic gain constituting a veritable and permanent heirloom for the people of that state. it is notable that the position of the orange free state, without any other access to the sea-board than from colonial ports, made its status and welfare entirely dependent upon the friendly and loyal good faith of england. up to the present unhappy war that state enjoyed unaltered the best relations without being ever subjected to even a trace of chicanery from the part of great britain. by what illusion, it may well be asked, could that hitherto friendly people have been deluded to risk all in a disloyal breach with england by joining the transvaal in a "bond" issue against her best friend? towards the transvaal also had england proved her earnest desire to maintain an intercourse on the basis of sincere amity, desirous only of reciprocity, which indeed could be expected in willing return, seeing that england took upon her own shoulders to provide for the protection and welfare of the entire area of south africa by sea and land, whilst both republics freely participated in all the great benefits so derived. these considerations should substantially disprove the wicked aspersion lately made that british policy aimed at the subversion of republican autonomy in those two states. all that great britain needed and confidently expected in return for her goodwill was friendly adhesion, and a willing recognition of her paramountcy in matters affecting the common weal of south africa as a whole, and also such reciprocity and mutual concern in the welfare of all as consistently comport with common interests. how fell and malignant the "influence" which operated a treacherous ingratitude and hostility instead! transvaal history--suzerainty the references made to the history of the transvaal so far reach up to the rehabilitation of its independence and the convention of . some of the conditions of that treaty, especially the subordinate position imposed by the suzerainty clause, were found to be repugnant to the burghers. delegates were therefore commissioned to proceed to england in order to get the treaty so altered as to place the state into the status provided by the sand river convention, which conceded absolute independence. mr. jorrison, a violent anti-english hollander, was the chief adviser of the members of that delegation. to that the english ministry could not assent, but sought to meet the wishes of the people by agreeing to certain modifications of the convention of . this was effected with the treaty of . the delegates had specially urged the renunciation of the suzerainty claim, but that claim appears not to have been abandoned, to judge from the absence of such mention in the novated treaty. had its renunciation been agreed to, as has been since averred, it is quite certain that the delegates would not have been content without the mention in most distinct terms of that, to them, so important point. it may therefore be assumed as a fact that the negotiations did not result in an active suspension of the relations as set forth in the convention of , and that the transvaal continued in a status of subordinacy to england, but only with a wider range in regard to conditions of autonomy. to most lay minds it therefore appears perfectly clear that the transvaal delegates had well understood and accepted, and so had also their government, that the convention of was _de facto_ a renewal of that of , with the only difference that it provided an enlarged exercise of autonomy, but without in the least abrogating the principles of respective relations, which were left intact, or at least latent. it has been averred and a strong point made in the theory of repudiating suzerainty or over-lordship that lord kimberley had given the assurance that the right of transvaal autonomy and independence was meant to equal that of the orange free state. this need not be contested, as that minister obviously relied upon a similar observance of staunch adhesion towards england which that state had shown during a period of thirty years previous; the fact that the transvaal was quite differently situated as to adjoining territory imposed the necessity, if only as a matter of form, to preserve the written conditions of transvaal vassalage. lord kimberley, in , intimated the readiness of his government to afford advisory and other co-operation with the transvaal government in order to cope with the new element of foreign immigration, resulting from the discovery of the rich gold-fields, and to provide appropriate relations with a new floating population, without materially altering the status of transvaal authority, or the methods of government then in practice. the transvaal government, however, preferred to ignore that loyal offer, and to be guided by bond principles instead. that circumstance affords another proof that england did not then see the necessity, as has subsequently been the case, of strengthening her position against bond aggression by imposing a demand of general franchise for uitlanders. one aspect of the prolonged controversy _re_ suzerainty forced upon england would be to denote a lack of honour, which is not of unfrequent occurrence when one party to a contract seeks by cavil and legal quibble to evade compliance with some of its conditions, simply because the written terms appear to afford scope for doing so. but the principal reason of the transvaal contention proceeded from the project of gaining over some strong foreign ally who would see an obstacle, if not scruples, in joining common cause whilst england's claim of over-lordship remained unshaken. but for that consideration the transvaal government inwardly viewed the whole of the treaties as waste paper, since it was not only intended to violate them all, but also to bring about, at an opportune moment, a hostile severance from england. in the meantime, the academic squabble was to serve as a decoy to hide transvaal identification with any such sinister objects, and to divert attention and suspicion. transvaal history--treatment of uitlanders--franchise to resume the cursory history of the transvaal. mr. burger, during his presidency in the early seventies, went to europe with the mission of attracting capital to the development and exploitation of gold, etc., then already authentically discovered; also, to provide for the building of a railway connecting with delagoa bay. the transvaal boers were at that time exceedingly poor, and without a sufficient revenue for properly maintaining the administration. beyond creating a lively interest, his success was confined to an agreement with a company in holland for building a section of that railroad, which, however, fell through, because the transvaal proved ultimately unable to furnish its quota of the necessary funds. the present president fared better. a dutch company styled "the nederlandsch zuid afrikaansche spoorweg maatschappy," abbreviated "z.a.s.m.," undertook the work and completed it in , from the portuguese border to pretoria. the line from pretoria to the natal border was soon after built, as also several extensions around the wit-waters rand, and that from pretoria to pietersburg. the section connecting delagoa bay as far as the transvaal border had previously been completed by mcmurdo, and is the subject of the present berne arbitration.[ ] the contract conferred to the dutch company a monopoly, and most advantageous financial terms as well. by that time great strides had been made in the development of the transvaal gold-fields, especially at the wit-waters rand (johannesburg); and immigration on a large scale from all parts of the world had set in, and was constantly increasing with vast amounts of investments in mercantile and other enterprises, as well as in mining industries. at first, equitable laws governed burghers and uitlanders alike, administered by an independent judiciary. all desirable security was afforded for person and property, with confidence in the safety of investments, and great general prosperity kept pace with ever-increasing activities and enterprise. it was a great satisfaction to uitlanders that the peace of , and the reinstatement of transvaal independence, had restored harmony between boer and english, and that a policy was being followed to preclude friction between the respective governments. those facts largely stimulated investments and enhanced confidence. by the alien population had already exceeded , , and the capital investments £ , , sterling, and the desire so ardently entertained by the people of the land, for twenty years back, was gratified at last. the burghers shared in the prosperity to a very large degree, and in lieu of former poverty, competence and wealth became the rule, and many of them became exceedingly rich. it was not unusual to hear boers expressing undisguised gratitude, not merely for the natural gold deposits, but specially also that people had come to prospect and to invest capital, without which the wealth of the land would have remained unexploited and lain fallow. harmony and cordiality were the proper outcome between foreigners and boers. the influx of capital and of immigrants continued to increase, but not so the happy conditions. these were gradually getting marred by a spirit of variance, no one seemed to know how. the study of this paper will reveal it. the variance between boers and uitlanders began to be specially discernible from and had been increasing like a blight ever since. this was noticeably coincident with the numerous arrivals of educated hollanders employed for the railways and the government administration. in the earlier period of the transvaal republic, one year's residence was first held sufficient for acquiring full franchise or burgher rights and voting qualifications. the condition was successively raised to two, three, and five years; but in laws were passed which required fourteen years' probation, with conditions which virtually brought the term to twenty-one years, and even then left the acquisition of full franchise to the caprice of field-cornets and higher officials. englishmen and their descendants were at one time totally and for ever excluded and disqualified just merely because of their nationality whilst hollanders were admitted in very large numbers without having to pass any probation at all or only comparatively short terms. the english language became a target for hostility and as good as proscribed; impracticable and ludicrous attempts even were made to exclude its use in johannesburg, where hardly any uitlander understood dutch, whilst every boer official was well versed in english: market and auction sales were to be conducted only in dutch; bills of fare at hotels and restaurants were also to be in full-fledged dutch only--and all this, it must be remembered, some years before the jameson incursion took place. the judiciary, which, according to the "grondwet" (constitution), was the highest legal authority, was by one stroke of enactment rendered subservient and subordinate to the first volksraad. the then chief justice (kotzee) was ignominiously deposed for honourably contending against the grave departure from right and justice in subverting the sacred prerogative due to the highest tribunal, which boer and uitlander alike relied upon for independent justice. a new system of education was next introduced which admitted only high dutch as the medium of instruction in public schools. as only hollander children could benefit by such tuition, and whereas those of other immigrants could not understand that language, the effect was that parents of english and other nationalities had to combine in establishing private schools or else to employ private teachers at their own expense--whilst paying, in the way of taxation, for hollander public schools as well. that oppressive system was subsequently somewhat modified in a manner which admitted the english language as a medium for a portion of the school hours, the proportion so accorded being larger in johannesburg and other such wholly english-speaking centres than in other parts of the state; but the amelioration did not take place until after much irritation and expense had been occasioned, nor did it meet the case of hardship more than half-way. i may here place the remark that the public educational department is conducted without stint of expenditure in providing from holland the amplest and best school equipments and highly salaried dutch professors and teachers. irritating class legislation began to be systematically resorted to, to the prejudice of uitlanders (the majority of whom, it will be borne in mind, were english), which painfully pointed to a fixed determination on the part of the boers to lord it over them as a totally inferior class, allowing them no representation, and to treat them, in fact, just as a conquered people placed under tribute and proper only to be dominated and exploited. boers could walk or ride about armed to the teeth, whilst uitlanders were forbidden to possess arms under penalty of confiscation and other punishments (except sporting-guns under special permit). the like irritations became rampant by already. the alien population were at first too much occupied with their prosperous vocations to combine in the way of protesting against such prevailing usage. the press was, however, eventually employed, and the government was approached with respectful petitions praying for redress of the most glaring causes of discontent; but those were invariably either disdainfully rejected or ignored, or, if some matter was relieved, other more exasperating enactments were defiantly substituted. they were cynically told that they had come to their (the boer's) country unasked, and were at liberty, and in fact invited, to leave it if the laws did not please them. this was said, well knowing that to leave would involve too great sacrifices of homes and investments. the uitlanders could not, however, be brought to the belief that the government of a conscientious people could persist in dealing with them as if a previous design had existed--first to inveigle them and their capital into their midst, with the object of goading and despoiling them afterwards. the course of petitioning and respectful remonstrances was therefore persevered in, but all to no purpose. indignation and resentment were the natural result of those failures. there appeared no alternative but to submit or else to abandon all and leave the country. it is true that numerous uitlanders acquired competences, and some were amassing fortunes, but such prizes were comparatively few. the majority just managed, with varying success, to reap a reasonable return for their outlays and energies, or only to live more or less comfortably. the fashion of luxurious and unthrifty living, so prevalent among the "_nouveaux riches_" and the section who vied with them, impressed the boers with the notion that all were getting rich, and that soon there would be nothing left for them in the race. in their hollander press they were reminded that the gold, in reality belonging to them, was rapidly being exhausted, and the wealth appropriated by aliens, whose hewers of wood and drawers of water they would finally become. all this galled them to the heart, and the government readily lent itself to proceedings intended to balance conditions in favour of their burghers, as the process was described. i will adduce a few instances. as is well known, it is only burghers and some privileged hollanders who are employed in government service, from president down to policeman. there are very few exceptions to this rule, which also applies to the nominations of jurymen, who are well paid too. the salaries of all, especially in the higher grades, had been largely augmented; the president receiving £ , per year, and so on downwards. for government supplies and public works the tenders of burghers only, and perhaps of some privileged persons, are accepted. in many instances the tenderers are without any pretence of ability for the performance of the contract, but are nevertheless accepted, performing only a _sub rosa rôle_. one such instance occurred some years ago when a burgher who did not possess £ --a simple farmer and a kind of "slim" speculator--received by volksraad vote the contract for building a certain railway.[ ] the price included a very large margin to be distributed in places of interest--as douceurs of £ , to £ , each, and £ , for the _pro forma_ contractor and his volksraad confederates; all those sums were paid out by the firm for whom the contract was actually taken up. similarly in contracts for road making, repairing, and making streets, etc., etc. on one occasion a rather highly placed official obtained a contract for repairing certain streets in pretoria for £ , . the work being worth £ , at most, the difference went to be shared by the several official participants. one of the first instances of glaring peculation occurred about fifteen years ago in relation with the selati railway contract obtained by baron oppenheim.[ ] the procedure was publicly stigmatized as bribery. it had transpired that nearly all the volksraad's members had received gifts in cash and values ranging each from £ to £ , prior to voting the contract, but what was paid after voting did not become public at the time of exposure. the acceptance of those gifts was ultimately admitted, in the face of evidence adduced in a certain law case; denial became, in fact, impossible. the plea of exoneration was that those gifts had been freely accepted without pledging the vote. the president publicly exculpated the honourable members, expressing his conviction that none of them could have meant to prejudice the state in their votes for the contract; and as there had been no pledge on their part, the donor had actually incurred the risk of missing his object. from that time the practice of obtaining and selling concessions or of sinecures and other lucrative advantages grew quite into a trade; and receiving douceurs became a hankering passion from highest to lowest, but happily with not a few exceptions where the official's honour was above being priced. there was nothing shocking in all this venality to the bulk of the johannesburg speculator class and others of that category. the rest assessed official morality at a depreciated value, but hoped the blemishes might be purged out with other and graver causes for discontent, if uitlanders, were only granted some effective representation in public matters. that appeared to be the only constitutional remedy. but this continued to be resentfully refused, even in matters which partook of purely domestic interest, such as education, municipal privileges, etc. the latter were opposed upon the specious argument that such extended rights would constitute an _imperium in imperio,_ and thus a condition incompatible with the safety and the conservation of complete control. in the usual intercourse with burghers and officials a great deal of exasperating and even humiliating experiences had often to be endured, uitlanders being treated as an inferior class, with scarcely veiled and often with arrogant assumption of superiority. i witnessed a field cornet enjoying free and courteous hospitality at a uitlander's house, while being entertained by his host and others in the vernacular dutch, peremptorily object to the conversation in english in which the lady of the house happened to be engaged with another guest at the further end of the table. his remark was to the effect "that he could not tolerate english being spoken within his hearing"; this was in about . no wonder that under such conditions and ungenial usage englishmen and other uitlanders were put in a resentful mood, and many of them bethought themselves of methods other than constitutional to improve their position. identification was resorted to with the imperial league, a political organization called into being in the cape colony to stem boer assertiveness there and to restrain bond aspirations. it was also seriously mooted to obtain the good offices of great britain as an influence for intervention and remonstrance. it was not that the transvaal government was unaware of its duty and responsibility to remove causes which produced discontent and resentment among by far the larger section of the people under its rule. it seemed rather that the uitlanders were provoked with systematic intention. footnotes: [footnote : the berne award has, as is well known, since been given.] [footnote : the ermelo-machadodorp branch.] [footnote : these very details were since made public in the belgian law courts in the recent _cause célèbre_ of "the government of the south african republic _versus_ baron oppenheim."] monster petition--jameson incursion--armaments it was at this stage in may, , that a monster petition with some , signatures was presented to the volksraad, setting forth the entire position, and praying for a commission to be appointed to examine the merits of the uitlander complaints, and to frame a programme of reforms, the interests of the mining community needing such in a most urgent degree, not only for the sake of its own prosperity, but for the welfare of the entire state. a commission was indeed appointed, who reported in favour of the petitioners, and suggested a series of reforms; but the final volksraad vote resulted in an angry rejection of the petition and denunciation of its organizers. as on the occasion of previous memorials, some few abuses were redressed, but those benefits were made worse than nugatory by enactments in other directions of a still more galling nature. the petitioners found themselves snubbed and in the position of humiliating defeat. treatment of coloured british subjects a glaring instance of oppression practised by the transvaal government was its cruel treatment of coloured british subjects who had been admitted into the state. among these figured some thousands of educated asiatic traders, including numerous cultured indian and parsee merchants with large stakes in the state and well-appointed residences, people whose very religion exacted the most scrupulous cleanliness and who had all proved themselves obedient and law-abiding. these were classed under one rubric with the vastly inferior coolie labourer, with kaffirs and hottentots, and actually compelled to abandon their stores and residences to reside in one common ghetto upon the outskirts of the towns, a measure which entailed great losses apart from the gratuitous humiliation--to many it involved ruin and in fact meant their expulsion. it will be remembered that some years before already the english government had felt it incumbent to advocate the cause of coloured british subjects and to remonstrate against their ill-usage. the matter was ultimately submitted to arbitration at bloemfontein, under the umpireship of sir henry de villiers, whose award, contrary to expectation, was adverse to the coloured people. here was indeed a unique occasion for the transvaal government to exercise geniality upon a point sorely felt by the british government; but the very contrary course was adopted under the ægis of that notorious award, and upon the untenable plea that sanitation and regard to public health necessitated that measure of segregation. despite the fact that no royalty was yet exacted upon the gold output, probably to please french, american, and german investors, there seemed to exist a veiled hostility against the representatives of mining capitalists, as if the government regretted to have allowed the exploitation of the mines to fall into private hands and would welcome an opportunity to take them under state control altogether. the uitlander press vented public sentiment and denounced the government attitude in unmistakable terms; there were besides some angry public demonstrations. it was an alarming time of impending crisis, rife with signs of open revolt; the government looking calmly on awaiting developments. it was then that the president's since famous saying was pronounced, viz., "that the tortoise must first be allowed to put out its head before it could be struck off, and that he was ready for any emergency." the situation had a truly anomalous aspect. more discoveries of gold and even of diamonds followed apace, and the scope for mining, commercial and industrial enterprises expanded to an incalculable magnitude. all that was needed was a stable and good government to encourage the needful investments. a most tantalizing picture indeed, based upon undeniably well-grounded facts. as it was, the situation was one of alarm for capital already invested--a stake then of over millions sterling in a country where more than half of the population were in almost open revolt against a government commanding very large repressive forces, and resolved to maintain its stand. british intervention appeared to be the only means of salvation to restore security, and to give a fillip to the brilliant prospects of the country, for the good of the burgher estate as well as for the sake of uitlanders. as the government continued deaf and obdurate to representations, other means were sought for. no wonder the uitlanders longed for a change, not by any means with the object of altering the style of republican status, but to get the augean stable of misgovernment cleansed, to escape oppressive and rapacious boer domination. the farcical failure of dr. jameson was the outcome of those endeavours. the unspeakable cowardice of his johannesburg confederates was the chief feature of that puny attempt. laurels, like those gained by lord peterborough, warren hastings, or lord clive, were not decreed to that ill-advised emulator. nothing could have been more propitious than that very jameson incursion to fan race hatred and to advance the projects of the afrikaner bond--"afrika voor de afrikaners," for, whilst no one acquainted with the facts can for a moment doubt the guilt of the transvaal government for having systematically provoked that attempt at revolution, "bond" propaganda and paid journalism had a rare chance to set up the theory that annexation on behalf of great britain had been foully planned--the prince of wales even being an abettor of the attempted _coup d'état_ purely to gratify the lust of greed for the gold and diamonds of the poor innocent boers. no terms were too vituperative to denounce the enormity. millions of honest persons all over the world were deluded--there was a bitter cry of almost universal indignation. the boer government posed as innocent; the designs of the afrikaner bond were not even suspected--its ranks, in sympathy with those delusions sped on filling up faster than ever, and the father of lies was scoring another very sensible triumph. in lieu of reforms, bond projects and armaments were secretly pursued with redoubled vigour towards the climax which should install afrikanerdom supreme in south africa, financially as well as politically. bloemfontein franchise conference--boer ultimatum capitalists had already begun to feel nervous about the final security of their investments; operations and credit became restricted, fresh projects were abandoned and a persistent withdrawal of capital set in. trade and prosperity were progressively waning, accompanied with still more ominous portents for the uitlanders' future. it all meant a very extensive weeding out of investments under enormous losses, except such as stood in relation with dividend-paying mines. england, though apparently apathetic and inactive, was not inattentive to the situation. whoever had a stake, whether in south africa or abroad, looked to great britain as the power upon whom the duty devolved to provide a peaceable remedy. the suzerainty controversy was then followed by other questions of diplomatic difference, among which that of the franchise reform. upon this matter english intervention took an insistent form. it clearly turned all upon that--and once it were satisfactorily arranged, the amicable solution of other questions might in turn be expected to follow. as to suzerainty, that claim appeared relegated to remain in abeyance. a conference was convened at bloemfontein early in june, , for the discussion of those topics between the colonial governor, sir alfred milner, and the presidents of the two republics. the outcome was a final demand for the right of representation of the uitlander interests in the legislative bodies of the transvaal, amounting to one-fifth of the total aggregate of members, the voting qualifications to consist in the usual reasonable conditions and a residence in the state of five years, operating retrospectively. we may here consider whether such a demand contained any real feature of unfairness to warrant refusal. three-fifths of the entire white transvaal population were uitlanders, the majority of them english. they own four-fifths of the total wealth invested in the state. about half of them have been domiciled, with house and other fixed property, for periods of from five to ten years and more. the preponderance is not only in numbers and wealth, but also in intelligence and in contributing at least four-fifths of the total state revenues. is it right or prudent to exclude such interests and such a majority from legislative representation? could a minority of one-fifth, that is to say, twelve uitlander members against forty-eight boer members, be said to constitute a menace to the status or to the conservative interests of state? do uitlanders not deserve equal recognition with the burghers in respect to intrinsic interest in the land, seeing that the former supplied all the skill and the capital to explore and exploit the mine wealth, all at their risk, and without which it would all have remained hidden and the country continued fallow and poor? though one-fifth would be so small a minority, it would at least have afforded the constitutional method of declaring the wishes of uitlanders, and have done away with the disquieting and less effective practices of press agitations, public demonstrations, and petitions. the measure could also have been expected to open up the way towards reconciling relations between the english and boer races, beginning in the transvaal, where it was hoped that the burghers would be gained over as friends, and so to stand aloof from the afrikaner bond. these were the supreme objects for peaceful progress and not for annexation. solemn assurances from highest quarters were repeatedly given that no designs existed against the integrity of the republic, that nothing unfriendly lurked behind the franchise demand, but that necessity dictated it for general good and the preservation of peace. nor were other diplomatic means left unemployed to ensure the acceptance of the franchise reform. in addition to firmness of attitude and a display of actual force, most of the other powers, including the united states of america, were induced to add their weight of persuasion in urging upon the transvaal the adoption of the measures demanded by england for correcting the existing trouble. it may be urged that the display of force in sending the first batches of troops would have afforded grounds for exasperation, and be construed by the transvaal as a menace and actual hostility, tending to precipitate a conflict which it was so earnestly intended to avoid. to this may be replied that the , men sent in august were readily viewed as placing the hitherto undermanned colonial garrisons upon an appropriate peace effective only; but not so with respect to the army corps of , men despatched in september--this was felt as an intended restraint against "bond" projects, to enforce the observance of any agreement which the transvaal might for the nonce assent to, and above all it was tending, unless at once opposed by the bond, to weaken its ranks by producing hesitation and ultimate defection from that body; the die was thus to be cast, duplicity appeared to be played out--the ultimatum of th october was the outcome; and england, though unprepared, could not possibly accept it otherwise than as a wilful challenge to war. as the pursuit of our study will show, the success of mr. chamberlain's diplomacy to avert war depended upon the very slender prospects that the transvaal government might have been induced to waver, and finally to break with the afrikaner bond--a forlorn hope indeed, considering the perfection which that formidable organization had reached. its cherished objects were not meant to be abandoned. the advice of "bond" leaders prevailed. war was declared and the rubicon crossed in enthusiastic expectations of soon realizing the long-deferred bond motto: "the expulsion of the hateful english." it is true the transvaal had made a show of acquiescence to british and foreign pressure. this first took the shape of an offer of a seven years' franchise, and then one of five years, exceeding even mr. milner's demands as to the number of uitlander representation. that of seven years was so fenced in with nugatory trammels and conditions that it had for those reasons to be rejected; whilst that at five years was coupled with the equally unacceptable conditions that the claim of suzerainty should be renounced, and that in all other respects the transvaal should be recognised as absolutely independent in terms of the sand river convention of . those offers could hardly have been made in sincerity, but rather as a temporary device and to meet the susceptibilities of the advising powers, for all the time preparations for war were never relaxed for a moment, but were pushed on with extreme vigour. on the other hand, the british programme seeking to ensure peace by the franchise expedient had been strictly followed without deviation. when the transvaal government professed irritation over the disposition of some british troops too near the transvaal border, they were promptly removed to more remote and less strategic positions, rather than incur the risk of rupture. during the month preceding the outbreak of the war, some large continental consignments of war munitions were, as usual, permitted to reach the republics unhindered through several colonial ports, portions being actually smuggled over the colonial railways as merchandise addressed to a well-known pretoria firm, but on arrival were secretly delivered, under cover of night, at the various forts and arsenals. these proceedings were carried out with the connivance of the colonial bond authorities, and though known to the british governor, it was all winked at rather than hazard the momentous objects of peace by the introduction of another knotty subject. to sum up the situation, it was a diplomatic contest on the part of great britain aiming at peace and to safeguard her possessions and prestige, while the afrikaner bond, on the other part, continued active in the work of sedition and preparing for a war of usurpation. every one must admit that the demand of the british ministry for an immediate and adequate representation proceeded from the necessity and the desire to overcome the south african crisis in a just and pacific way. the measure was counted upon to effect conciliation between the uitlander and burgher elements, and as a further result was earnestly hoped to bring about the secession of the transvaal from the afrikaner bond, and so reduce that dangerous confederacy to a somewhat negligible impotence. to discover other objects of a sinister sort lurking behind needs a more than inventive genius. a united afrikaner bond, persistent to carry out its fell project, definitely meant war sooner or later. its first step in launching out to it was that notorious ultimatum, which was tantamount to snatching back the feigned offers of the seven and five years' franchise. according to original programme, the very next step to accomplish the _coup d'état_ was the immediate seizure of all colonial ports, and to complete a general and irrevocable boer rising all over the colonies. all the while the old device had been put into practice of hiding bond guilt by accusing england of designs against the integrity of the boer republics. but directly after, in the exultation of victorious invasions, the mask was shamelessly dropped, and boerdom stands out defiantly and nakedly self-confessed, aiming at conquest and supremacy over all south africa. will the ensuing century have in store an instance to match that record plot of artifice and dissimulation, and see half the world duped into partisanship with it--by journalistic craft? it may well be imagined that mr. chamberlain and his noble colleagues had anything but beds of roses whilst pursuing the diplomacy adopted to checkmate the bond. they had to gain national support without divulging their own proceeding, and were at the same time reduced to a situation which imposed a spartan fortitude in concealing and repressing involuntary perturbation in the presence of an impending national crisis, and also the stoical endurance of bitter recriminations on the part of an opposition comprising a large and honourable but poorly informed section of the english nation. boer language we come now to the topic of language, which will be found relevant, showing hollander and bond influence in using that also as a hostile weapon. what the boers still speak is a vernacular or dialect so far removed from high dutch as to be unintelligible to the uninitiated hollander. it took its form from the dialects brought to the cape of good hope by unlettered dutch colonists and a large admixture of locally produced idioms, with a slight trace of the structure of the french language in expressing negations. in the two republics high dutch rules for official purposes, but in common intercourse the vernacular dutch is still about the same as it had been a hundred years ago. for an english-dutch interpreter the thorough knowledge of the vernacular is essential. preachers and teachers have to adapt their speech by combining high dutch with the dialect, the one or the other predominating according to the capacity of the hearers. hollanders follow the same method when learning the vernacular dutch. in towns and villages, not only in the colonies, but also in both republics, english is almost exclusively used. the boers, and especially the younger generation, have a much greater aptitude and penchant for learning english than for high dutch; and generally it has been held more important by the parents that their children should become proficient in english, that language being more easily acquired and of vastly greater use than dutch. the latter, it was truly averred, would be learnt as they grew up quite sufficiently for all purposes. the feeling thus existed some twenty years ago that english would become general, and ultimately oust both dutch and the vernacular. numerous boer patriots then devised the remedy of preserving the vernacular by raising it to the standard of a written and printed language for official as well as common use. the rev. du toit, later appointed minister (or superintendent) of education in the transvaal, worked tenaciously towards making that movement a national success. he had the co-operation of many other educated patriots likewise. the _paarl patriot_, a journal published in the vernacular, is one of the surviving efforts. vocabularies, school books, etc., etc., were printed in that dialect, and the translation of the bible had also been brought to an advanced stage, when the project had to be abandoned, principally through hollander influence, aided by some of the republican leaders and bond men. dr. mansfeld, the present superintendent of education in the transvaal, was subsequently appointed--a very able hollander, but also a very strong advocate in the general hollander bond movement for proscribing the use of the english language, and making high dutch the compulsory medium of instruction. since then, and during the past ten years, considerable progress has been made by the average boer children, and even the grown-up people, in approaching a better knowledge of high dutch. before hardly any boer cared to read a newspaper except, perhaps, the _paarl patriot_, the vernacular journal referred to. high dutch and english papers were equally beyond his ready knowledge, but since then the interest in politics gave an impulse to a reading tendency, and at this moment the majority of the boers manage to read and understand fairly well what is presented in simply written high dutch by the local press. they also are fond of simply written books of travels, and especially of narratives of a religious trend. with the bible they are most familiar from childhood, but literature in high dutch is beyond them as yet. greater pains have of late years been taken to qualify boer sons for the administrative service of the republics, where imperfect knowledge of high dutch is an obvious bar to advancement, and hollanders would otherwise continue to monopolize the better positions. taking the fairly educated free state and transvaal youth, the average proficiency in english compared to that in high dutch is as two to one, whilst many possess even a literary mastery in english whilst quite poor in the other language. in the cape colony the above comparison among the boer section is still more in favour of english. it may be judged what an important _rôle_ the educated hollander group can take in those republics, and are yet aiming at in the colonies. it is also worthy of reflection why and how the dutch language has been raised to equality with english in the cape colony, seeing english was more generally understood by the boers there than high dutch, and none of the boer legislators or members of parliament even now know more than the dutch vernacular, the high dutch language having actually yet to be learnt by the boer population--an important step thus gained by afrikanerdom under the indulgent ægis of self-government, the thin end of another wedge to nurse sedition and treason introduced by that odious bond under pretence and veil of boer patriotism and loyalty. as one of the world's languages, dutch figures under a very sorry _rôle_ indeed. it had been ignored everywhere outside of holland and her distant colonies. the consequence to hollanders is that they are of necessity subjected to the ordeal of learning several other continental languages for commercial intercourse, and in order to keep at all abreast with the progress of science, literature, and culture. dutch is in the moribund stage; its salvation from imminent extinction consists in the expansion of its sphere. boer successes in south africa would just accomplish that. the dutch coterie: its seat in holland as has been shown, the conditions of the two boer republics, with high dutch as the official language, lent themselves to favour the immigration into those states of educated dutchmen (hollanders, as they are styled, to distinguish them from the old-established boer dutchmen). these were indeed indispensable, as none of the boers possessed the competence in high dutch requisite for the conduct of the more important portion of the clerical work in the administration. the professional branches were recruited from holland likewise, in natural sequence. they were men of high attainments and possessed of energy and astuteness and of various qualifications--doctors, lawyers, editors, clergymen, teachers. those who did not receive government appointments quickly found lucrative positions in their vocations. the scope increased as time went by and as those states developed with the growth of the populations and the establishment of numerous towns and villages, especially after the discovery of the diamond-fields in . every year brought fresh contingents from holland, including also the commercial class, artisans, and even servants of both sexes, and agriculturists. preserving a constant intercourse with their native country, those hollanders also maintained cohesion and clanship among themselves in their newly-adopted homes. nor did holland fail to realize the great advantages accruing to that country and its people from the new south african outlets--regular preserves with almost unlimited scope for further extension and for increasing permanent, profitable connections. a formidable barrier presented itself in the gradually ascendant tendencies of the english language and english trade, with corresponding neglect of the dutch factors. regretful forebodings aroused energetic efforts to check rival interests. the prize was too valuable, and increasing each year in importance. a dyke needed to be erected to stem the english encroachments and to preserve and consolidate the hollander position of vantage. the ablest men in holland and south africa exercised themselves with that task with an ardour impelled by jealous hatred against the english and intensified by successive revelations of more startling discoveries of gold and other mineral wealth in the transvaal. it was then, about thirty years ago, that a well-informed, influential and unscrupulous coterie in holland devised the fell projects which developed into that potential association since known as the afrikaner bond. the building of the transvaal railway lines brought other large accessions of educated hollanders, and as they were completed some thousands more were added to serve as permanent staff. dutch influence was thus attaining strength to assert and consolidate its interests with an expanding impulse. the monopolized railway company promoted immigration from holland by largely increasing the salaries to such of the staff who were married. the transvaal government, under the advice of their educational chief, dr. mansfeld, provided similar premiums to secure married teachers from holland and by raising the salaries of married hollander officials already placed. the hollander population attracted to the transvaal since , and which did not number above in , had increased by to fully , , representing, as ranged with the boers, by far the largest factor of educated intelligence, attached to and dependent upon the government and its staunch allies. the men received full burghership as a rule soon after arrival, exempt from the formalities and probation prescribed by law. holland being the locality of the inception, i may say the ingestion, of the afrikaner bond, one's thoughts are apt to retrace, by way of contrast, that little nation's creditable past. the view presents those dykes, monuments of labour's heroism; then that glorious resistance against the mighty persecutor of religion, those unsurpassed performances in the arena of culture, arts, and sciences, and that long epoch of success in exploits of colonization, finance, and commerce. "but view them closer, craft and fraud appear; even liberty itself is bartered here."--_goldsmith_.[ ] one notes the placid landscapes intersected by those still but deep-flowing rivers and canals, scenes so conducive to mental exercise--the dutch patriot mourning over the transition of former national prestige to present condition of decadence presaging complete national submersion, but at the same time courageously employing his fertile brain in devising far-reaching projects of remedy over distant perspectives so as to stem that tide of decadence and declension and to erect a firm barrier against that menace--to gain (by inspiration from the titular genius of commerce and craft so conspicuous in that famed art representation[ ] exhibited in his bourse) a dazzling prize for his nation by one fell swoop and, so to say, with folded arms, just by pitting against the english his almost forgotten and long-neglected clan, the boer nation, inciting them to usurp great britain in south africa, holland sharing the spoils. see here the master mind exulting in the conception, gestation, and birth of the afrikaner bond conspiracy; note the hollander patriot's glitter of satisfaction at the vista of realizing the restoration of holland to a position excelling its former glory, of a moribund language revived to significance, and of witnessing besides a sweet vendetta operated upon england, the old enemy and despoiler of his nation, to compass the humiliation and disintegration of the british empire. patience, dear reader; preserve judicial composure. evidence is following on the heels of the charge. footnotes: [footnote : this is of course not directed against the nation as a whole. see also notice, page vi.] [footnote : oil painting in the amsterdam exchange building representing mercurius.] afrikaner bond--outlines and programme the late mr. jan brand, that noble president who was succeeded by reitz and now by steyn in the presidency of the orange free state, appeared to have had early intimations, or at least presages, as to the true nature of the afrikaner bond, for during the early eighties that association had yet posed as a harmless body, intended to preserve old boer traditions upon perfectly constitutional lines. president brand and some others then already suspected more, as the following incident will show. in president brand officially opened the new wagon-road bridge over the caledon river at commissie drift, near smithfield, orange free state. towards the conclusion of the ceremony, one of the other speakers, mr. advocate peeters, member of the volksraad for smithfield district, in the course of his speech formally suggested that president brand should accept the leadership of the orange free state section of the afrikaner bond. the president, addressing the burghers and all present, replied in about the following terms: the proposal just then made by advocate peeters had pained and offended him; the festive event would be marred by that incident were it not that it afforded him the opportunity, which he otherwise would have missed, of telling them all what he thought of the afrikaner bond--that it was an evil thing; he could not find terms strong enough to warn the people against its subtle seductions. the afrikaner bond professed its objects to be peace and harmony, but it really contained the pernicious seeds of division and strife, to set up enmity between english afrikaners and boer afrikaners. he pointed out the sincerity of friendly relations on the part of england towards both the orange free state and the transvaal republics. the peace which restored to the transvaal its independence a few years before was one big proof; his government had many proofs of england's good will, too. it suited both parties to maintain harmony--it behoved every afrikaner to be one-minded in friendly reciprocation. through a gracious providence both republics were prosperous and enjoyed independence. all over the world the prosperity of states depended upon good relations with their neighbours--this was especially so as regards the orange free state. they knew what kind of bond the bible enjoined. it was the bond of peace and concord; and he concluded by declaring his well-grounded fears that the afrikaner bond was a device of the devil directed against the well-being of the entire afrikaner nation. instead of being encouraged, it should, like the "boete bosch"[ ] (_xanthium spinosum_, burr weed), be extirpated from the soil of south africa. memoranda of bond programme, emanating from holland (translation from gleanings). the afrikaner bond has as final object what is summed up in its motto of "afrika voor de afrikaners."[ ] the whole of south africa belongs by just right to the afrikaner nation. it is the privilege and duty of every afrikaner to contribute all in his power towards the expulsion of the english usurper. the states of south africa to be federated in one independent republic. the afrikaner bond prepares for this consummation. argument in justification:-- (_a_) the transfer of the cape colony to the british government took place by circumstances of _force majeure_ and without the consent of the dutch nation, who renounce all claim in favour of the afrikaner or boer nation. (_b_) natal is territory which accrued to a contingent of the boer nation by purchase from the zulu king, who received the consideration agreed for. (_c_) the british authorities expelled the rightful owners from natal by force of arms without just cause. the task of the afrikaner bond consists in:-- (_a_) procuring the staunch adhesion and co-operation of every afrikaner and other real friend of the cause. (_b_) to obtain the sympathy, the moral and effective aid of one or more of the world's powers. the means to accomplish those tasks are:-- personal persuasion, press propaganda, legislation and diplomacy. the direction of the application of those means is entrusted to a select body of members eligible for their loyalty to the cause and their abilities and position. that body will conduct such measures as need the observance of special secrecy. upon the rest of the members will devolve activities of a general character under the direction of the selected chiefs. one of the indispensable requisites is the proper organization of an effective fund, which is to be regularly sustained. bond members will aid each other in all relations of public life in preference to non-members. in the efforts of gaining adherents to the cause it is of importance to distinguish three categories of persons-- ( ) the class of afrikaners who are to some extent deteriorated by assimilative influences with the english race, whose restoration to patriotism will need great efforts, discretion, and patience. ( )the apparently unthinking and apathetic class, who prefer to relegate all initiative to leaders whom they will loyally follow. this class is the most numerous by far. ( ) the warmly patriotic class, including men gifted with intelligence, energy, and speech, qualified as leaders and apt to exercise influence over the rest. among those three classes many exist whose views and religious scruples need to be corrected. scripture abounds in proofs and salient analogies applying to the situation and justifying our cause. in this, as well as in other directions, the members who work in circulating written propaganda will supply the correct and conclusive arguments accessible to all. upon the basis of our just rights, the british government, if not the entire nation, is the usurping enemy of the boer nation. in dealing with an enemy it is justifiable to employ, besides force, also means of a less open character, such as diplomacy and stratagem. the greatest danger to afrikanerdom is the english policy of anglicizing the boer nation--to submerge it by the process of assimilation. a distinct attitude of holding aloof from english influences is the only remedy against that peril and for thwarting that insidious policy. it is only such an attitude that will preserve the nation in its simple faith and habits of morality, and provide safety against the dangers of contamination and pernicious examples, with all their fateful consequences to body and soul. let the dutch language have the place of honour in schools and homes. let alliances of marriage with the english be stamped as unpatriotic.[ ] let every afrikaner see that he is at all times well armed with the best possible weapons, and maintains the expert use of the rifle among young and old, so as to be ready when duty calls and the time is ripe for asserting the nation's rights and be rid of english thraldom. employ teachers only who are animated with truly patriotic sentiments. let it be well understood that english domination will also bring religious intolerance and servitude, for it is only a very frail link which separates the english state church from actual romanism, and its proselytism _en bloc_ is only a matter of short time. equally repugnant and dangerous is england's policy towards the coloured races, whom she aims, for the sake of industrial profit, at elevating to equal rank with whites, in direct conflict with scriptural authority--a policy which incites coloured people to rivalry with their superiors, and can only end in common disaster. whilst remaining absolutely independent, the ties of blood relationship and language point to holland for a domestic base. as to commerce, germany, america, and other industrial nations could more than fill the gap left by england, and such connections should be cultivated as a potent means towards obtaining foreign support to our cause and identification with it. if the mineral wealth of the transvaal and orange free state becomes established--as appears certain from discoveries already made--england will not rest until those are also hers. the leopard will retain its spots. the independence of both republics is at stake on that account alone, with the risk that the rightful owners of the land will become the hewers of wood and drawers of water for the usurpers. there is no alternative hope for the peace and progress of south africa except by the total excision of the british ulcer. reliable signs are not wanting to show that our nation is designed by providence as the instrument for the recovery of its rights, and for the chastisement of proud, perfidious albion. footnotes: [footnote : literally "bush of fines" (fines imposed on landowners where the burr weed was not eradicated).] [footnote : africa for the african citizen or african-born whites.] [footnote : it is notorious that from about such marriages were denounced from the boer pulpits and on the occasions of the independence day anniversaries ( th december).] pacific policy of great britain during the period of, say, twenty-five years after the inception of the afrikaner bond, and while its organization and development were secretly kept at full pace with occurring events, the british government consistently and openly pursued the policy of bringing about the unification of south africa. mr. froude, a speaker of rare gifts, was sent to lecture upon the topic: this was in about . the colonial governor, sir bartle frere, strenuously advocated that union. the lines suggested were a general federation under one protective flag, self-government in the colonies, and the continuance of uncurtailed autonomic independence in the two republics. the benefits which such a coalition promised to all concerned in south africa are obvious. it would guarantee harmony between the two white races without involving the least sacrifice of liberty with any party--it simply meant coincident peace, prosperity and security, and would relieve england of a considerable burden of anxiety. the scheme promised to find all-round acceptance, but, unaccountably, except to bond men, its greatest opponents were the cape colonial boers. it was, however, confidently hoped that, with patience, opposition and indifference would be overcome, and in view of this no opportunity was lost to prove england's loyal sincerity by genial treatment, by conciliating the various interests, and gratifying the wishes of the boer communities, and so to ensure the desideratum of complete _rapprochement_ between the white races. conferences were convened with the objects of coming to agreements for the establishment of a general south african customs union, and for adjusting railway tariffs upon fair bases and a more reliable permanency of rates suggesting reciprocal terms advantageous to the republics. these efforts also proved fruitless through similar opposition. the afrikaner bond party, as the reader will understand, had ranged itself against all such attempts, whilst successfully masking its own object all the time. other differences, which, with a friendly and united spirit, were capable of easy adjustment, were welcomed by that party as grist to its mill in order to widen the gulf and to increase the tension. besides the chagrin over the failure of its peace policy, the british cabinet had finally to admit itself confronted with a very real and ominous national peril, face to face with the south african medusa, afrikanerdom, defying great britain in preconcerted aggression and revolt. that apparition was all the more startlingly disquieting because of the suddenness with which the magnitude of the menace and its wide perspectives had begun to expand into clearer view. it was interesting to note how the english ministry responded to the call upon its fortitude; the terrifying apparition did not seem to petrify that body of men, despite the galling handicapping consequences through the opposition of part of the nation, which was indeed tantamount to encouraging south african rebels and usurpers. bond press propaganda--secret service--trade rivalries the bond leaders in holland and south africa had at an early stage acted upon stuart mill's recognised saying, "that conviction in a cause is of more potent avail than mere interest in it." among those leaders there was no lack of men of erudition and of psychological science, than whom no one knew better the prime importance of ensuring uniformity of convictions among the boers and their partisans, and that the public mind needs to be framed and trained so as to view the boer cause as just and that of the english as odiously wicked. they knew how indispensable the press is for attaining those objects, how journalism is capable of plausibly representing black as white and to convince people so--that, in fact, it is on occasion an agency of persuasion more potent than armies are. its needs are unscrupulous pens and ample payments. for money is the sinews of journalism as well as of war, whether the projectiles be charged with lyddite or with lies, whether it is bullets or throwing dust into people's eyes. we have seen how a few articles (for which a leading french paper received £ , ) were instrumental in enabling the panama canal co. to swindle the french public of forty million pounds sterling, and more recently, where through press agency it became feasible to a combination of jesuitism and militarism to seduce by far the greater portion of the noble french nation into frenzied agitation and anti-semitic excesses, and load the entire people with almost ineffaceable guilt in the matter of that unfortunate dreyfus. in its press campaign the afrikaner bond employed several leading colonial organs--the bloemfontein _express_, the pretoria _volksstem_, the _standard and diggers' news_ of johannesburg, and numerous papers of note abroad as well. these were coached, in the usual masterly manner, sophisticating and perverting truth. whenever a lull occurred in treating one or other of the more salient questions, those south african papers would invariably contain--especially in their dutch columns--aspersive articles, coupled with invective comments to prejudice the boer mind and to reawaken anti-english sentiments. it is notable as a proof that the bond party lacked all occasions for recriminations, so that those papers had to resort for material for their vituperation to distorted incidents of transvaal history prior to the peace of . there would, for example, be dished up falsely rendered and dramatically coloured and perverted selections, such as the treacherous massacre of retief's party in , averring that the zulu king, dingaan, had been incited thereto by the british authorities; tragic descriptions of events, coupled with the massacres by zulu impis soon after at weenen and blaauwkrantz, averred also to have taken place at the instance of the english government, and ever and anon references and full tragic descriptions of the slachtersnek execution in , omitting to state that the boer culprits were hanged after fair and open trial and conviction by a "boer" jury for high treason in conspiring with kaffirs against the government, which crime had led to bloodshed, and that their relatives had been ordered to witness the execution because they had been abettors and privy to the crime. books teaching the history of south africa were adapted for school use wherein denunciations against the english appear in almost every chapter. poetry in the vernacular dutch and pamphlets teeming with like burdens and calumnies also did their share in inspiring race hatred. pro-boer journalism in england and elsewhere abroad had assumed such dimensions, especially during the past decade, as to bring the secret service expenditure on that head during recent years to over £ , per annum. dr. leyds, the transvaal ambassador, now (december, ) in europe, is known to some to have with him some £ , to defray press expenditure, etc., apart from the millions to which he is authorized to engage his government in diplomatic projects, such as procuring allies, or to create embroilments and diversions to the prejudice of england. to sum up the success achieved by anti-english propaganda, we find the boer nation, from the zambesi to the cape, unanimous in convictions as to their fancied claims, their own absolute innocence, and the immeasurable guilt of the british government, abetted by capitalism--guilt which cries to heaven for retribution; and those convictions take with each man the form of a resolute patriotism wherein mingled fanaticism and religious fervour in their cause form a powerfully sustaining part. partisanship outside of africa counts by millions of individuals and entire peoples; with these it is not so much conviction, but rather persuasion induced by political hatred and the souring effects of jealousy and unsuccessful rivalry. this feature is, of course, most accentuated in holland, where, with the eyes set upon the loaves and fishes in south africa, that nation has for some time been "publicly praying" for boer victory over england. these are instances of mere interest in lieu of genuine convictions. in england the spectacle is more varied. there we see interest where there are paid agencies, and persuasion more or less pronounced induced by political party spirit and also by real convictions. it is in regard to the latter category where perverted journalism triumphs most and stabs deepest, where men of honour and patriotism have adopted views which clash against public interest, and convictions which torture their own minds with grief and shame under the supposed idea of england's unjust attitude towards the boer people, assuming that a government majority allows itself to be actuated by base motives. is it not attributable in a large proportion to misguided as well as to venal journalism that the boer cause has so heavily scored? was all this not manifest in the divisions of england's counsels, in the hampered progress of her diplomacy, her fateful hesitancy and delay in providing appropriate preventive and protective measures in south africa? and as regards the tenacity of those convictions, it is with them as it is in plant life. the longer a tree is in maturing, the harder is it to uproot it. the activities of bond propaganda have been in continuance for many years, and the prejudices fostered so long are correspondingly deep-rooted. bond patriotism was not long subjected to the strain of individual contributions and unpaid performances. when the transvaal revenues advanced with such giant strides the afrikaner bond leaders in that state contrived arrangements by which the financial requirements were supplied from state receipts. nor was the least compunction felt in doing so. was the revenue of the state not chiefly derived from the uitlander element--from uitlander investments, which all throve from the nation's own buried gold wealth? no scruples existed to provide from those sources the armaments and all else needed for the common cause of conquest. a secret service fund of some £ , per year only was placed upon the budget list. but this amount was vastly exceeded by the growing requirements of the afrikaner bond for expenditure in south africa alone. it was easily contrived to divert, _sub rosa_, large state receipts to supply the remaining financial needs. among these figured, besides the heavy outlays in journalism abroad, gratuities, etc., a large bill also for secret agencies, spies, and the like. the entire expenditure was under the direction of a few only of the trusted leaders and audited by the chiefs, all being kept otherwise undivulged. the transvaal thus became the treasury as well as the arsenal of the entire afrikaner bond. hundreds of agents were in constant employ in the cape colonies and natal suborning the boer colonists; many of them occupied positions in various branches of the colonial government, and were able to supply information upon any subject and even to influence elections. there were numerous permanent agents drawing large emoluments in europe also, and emissaries to different places abroad, some touring in america, england, and the continent, as the rev. mr. bosman did recently, and also the p.m.g., isaac van alphen. much energy and money were also devoted to electioneering campaigns, as had notoriously been done in the cape colony towards bringing in a bond majority. large sums are spent in the diplomatic arena in holland to propitiate foreign statesmen, soliciting sympathy, and in coquettings for transvaal allies. one of these attempts that failed had been with germany. it would appear that some progress had been feasible some years ago in temporarily luring emperor william to favour a holland-transvaal combination, but when that sovereign had at last penetrated the infamous business that lay behind it all, he, as a true "_bayard_" promptly washed his hands clean of it, preferring to forego obvious brilliant advantages for his people than to sully germany's fair fame in a connection amounting to no less than abetting a foul conspiracy. the readers of the johannesburg _standard and diggers' news_ will remember among the staple attacks upon capitalism quite a series of articles intended to decoy mining artisans and operatives to boer views. secret agents were also employed for that purpose, and to induce the belief that the government was the enemy of capitalism, and would champion its victims (the mining operatives) in the state. it would support miners and the working class generally against attempts to curtail the just rights of labour, and to parade its sincerity actually passed a law constituting eight tours a legal day's labour. with such coquettings it was hoped to gain the miners' confidence and adhesion. those men were, however, not to be taught by quasi-socialistic professions of concern, and when, some months later, the exodus prior to the war occurred, they nearly all left, much to the disgust and discomfiture of the government, which had counted upon them to stay to work the mines for its own account when the moment should arrive. the appropriation of gold mines and their exploitation for government benefit bring about a singular anomaly for a nation engaged in war, viz., that of a plethora of gold and a scarcity of paper currency, the transvaal mint coining the sinews of war at the expense of its victims, but the plundered gold after all not equalling commercial paper values. in connection with the foregoing remarks the following may also be said. states professing neutrality still permit themselves to trade with the transvaal to a large extent. it is notorious that that state possesses no funds available for payments except the gold derived from the misappropriated mines. the output is seized in its entirety, and not limited to the extent accruing to british scrip holders only. the hustling rivalry of doing business with the transvaal thus involves receiving stolen money in payment of trade accounts. we see the receivers eager to stand upon the same platform as the thief, thus not only as his political partisans, but also as his accomplices. disloyalty of colonial boers the boer section in the cape colonies represents nearly one-half of the white population there. their representatives in the administration were ever profuse and assertive in professions of loyalty to the queen and to the english government, and any aspersions to the contrary were always indignantly and stoutly repelled. the afrikaner bond was averred to include nothing to clash with loyal sentiments, no severance from england, but, on the contrary, that its principal objects were to strengthen the lines of amity and joint solidarity in view of a general federation of south africa upon imperial bases. in support of such sentiments one of the first acts of the bond party when recently come into power was a vote of £ , per year towards british naval outlays, and in grateful recognition of naval protection; it was at the same time mooted, in fact almost pledged, that the transvaal would similarly offer £ , as well. the sequel has proven these to be athenian gifts, for no sooner had the republican commandoes invaded the cape colonies in november last than those identical men enthusiastically welcomed the queen's enemies as their friends and deliverers from hateful english dominion. there they stood--self-avowed and unmasked traitors. members of the legislative assembly met those boer invaders with addresses and speeches, assuring them of their own and of every other true afrikaner's aid and fidelity in their common cause. "the star of liberty," they said, "had arisen at last--it had been the nation's desire and prayers during the past fifteen years." "he could thank god with tears of joy for having granted those prayers." such were the words of mr. van der walt, m.l.a., uttered at colesberg. mr. de wet, m.l.a., mr. van den heever, m.l.a., and other colonial notables were spokesmen in similar terms of enthusiasm on other occasions as the invasion advanced. all this is sadly notorious, but still it seems a hard task to convince people who prefer to remain blind or only see a presumptuous adversary in any one who seeks to enlighten them upon this glaring and premeditated treachery. october and november were months of unrestrained exultation to the boer party, to judge from letters and articles which appeared in the _standard and diggers' news_, johannesburg, dated nd november, , and in the pretoria _volksstem_, dated th november, .[ ] there one sees the mask off, in language of defiant insult and of scurrilous mendacity against all that is english, avowing that the present anglo-boer war has been the outcome of preparations during the past thirty years. that letter is not all suitable reading for the tender sex, but should serve as evidence to the still unconvinced sceptic that the boers are fighting for something more than their mere independence and liberty, viz., for conquest and the domination of afrikanerdom. his excellency dr. leyds may deny all those too previous intentions with his placid effrontery of assumed innocent calm. he may denounce mr. chamberlain, rhodes, jameson, and even the prince of wales, and he may use the old device of posing as innocent by accusing others. the detected robber, however, does not always escape with his booty by running off himself, whilst shouting "stop, thief!" something refreshingly analogous to such attempts of screening and exculpation has been extemporized in cape journals of late. there, in an ingeniously pretended dissertation, it is invented how ill founded the aspersions are against mr. premier schreiner, and that the acts, upon which he was so wrongly suspected as an amphibious helmsman, are really attributable to another person--by the way, to one at a safe distance, viz., to mr. f.w. reitz, the transvaal state secretary; whilst this gentleman again, when lecturing at johannesburg in july last, naively deplored the confusion of people's ideas who see anything wrong in the afrikaner bond, adding: "lord, forgive them, for they know not what they do or talk about." "the peace of south africa is only possible under boer supremacy," is the bond shibboleth. the end justifies the means, even to sedition, to a war of conquest and the wholesale plunder of investors. many of the younger boers in the cape colony and natal had shown a singular ardour in joining the several volunteer corps. they were equipped with uniforms and best weapons, were drilled into efficiency, received pay, and all went on well until the oath of allegiance was to be tendered. this they refused, preferring to resign and to provide arms from other sources--mauser rifles by preference. this happened some considerable time before the outbreak of the war. boer arguments denying uitlanders' complaints many plausible arguments are proffered to prove that uitlanders' grievances and irritations are purely fictitious, but few, i venture to say, will bear examination. taxation, for example, is stoutly averred to fall alike upon burgher and uitlander, but a glance at the long rubric of articles specially taxed will show that the selection is contrived to hit the latter and to spare, or even to protect and benefit, the burgher section. the gold industry is not charged with a royalty as is customary in other gold-producing countries, but with per cent. only upon the net profits; but here an intolerant and corrupt domination proves much more prejudicial than a heavy royalty would be. proper representation would be the remedy and afford contentment, even with higher taxation, but that is refused upon bond principles. the anglo-boer war is attributed to base motives on the part of the british government, operating in collusion with capitalism--to england's passion for annexation, her rapacious greed for the transvaal gold, her inordinate ambition to universal commercial supremacy, etc. what a confusion of assertions and of self-refuting contradictions! would england really acquire the transvaal gold by the annexation of that state, seeing that its mines are already capitalized and as good as expropriated in favour of the host of shareholders, some of whom are english, but the greater portion german, french, and of other nations? what advantage would accrue to shareholders? would england, in case of forcible annexation, not be under the necessity of incurring a heavy charge in the increase of her south african garrisons, and so be justified in levying a considerable royalty upon the output, which would materially reduce the dividends? what advantage would arise to england by substituting an unproductive and costly war in south africa for conditions of peace and prosperity, which alone can yield her commerce profit? england can only derive profit from wars waged between other peoples. and as to the incentive of commercial supremacy, england, while possessing that to a large extent already, freely and voluntarily allows all comers from other nationalities to share the benefits with her by her principle of free trade. footnotes: [footnote : extract from pretoria _volksstem_, th november, , from a long letter averred to have appeared in the london _times_, dated th october, , said to have been signed by a well-known cape boer, then in england:-- "we have desired delay, and we have had it, and we are now practically masters of south africa from the zambesi to the cape. all the afrikaners in the cape colony have been working for years past for this end. "for thirty years the cape dutch have been waiting their chance, and now their day has come; they will throw off their mask and their yoke at the same instant, and , dutch heroes will trample you tinder foot. we can afford to tell you the truth now, and in this letter you have got it."] portuguese territory--transvaal low veldt--malaria--horse sickness between the north-eastern borders of the transvaal and the coast lies the portuguese colony mozambique. its frontier railway station, ressario garcia, is near that of the transvaal, viz., komati poort, which is miles from delagoa bay. a low-lying country extends from the coast about to miles inland, and is tropical. except some elevated spots, the whole of it is almost uninhabitable in summer by whites on account of malaria. during some specially bad seasons natives even succumb to that malady. the only comparatively safe months are from june to november. marshy localities, and wherever there is shaded rank vegetation in low-lying parts, are dangerous all the year round; in such places the water is deadly at all times unless first boiled. this malarial poison is distinct from that which produces yellow fever in america, and is so far unlike it as it is not contagious. the theory is that the poison is produced below the surface by decaying vegetable matter in low and dank parts during the more inactive but still warm and sunny winter season and during the hot months preceding the summer rainfall. upon the first rains the malarial poison escapes through the then softened crust in the shape of vapoury miasms. this happens during the night, after the surface of the earth has been cooled off. those miasms are dissipated or neutralised by the action of the sun. the dewy grass retains the poison until it is thoroughly dried to the root. all surface water is liable to that poisonous impregnation. malarial manifestations occur all over south africa, but in progressive degrees of virulence with the advance to warmer latitudes, and with the descent from the high table-lands to the coast levels. on the transvaal high veldt, for example, a mild form is developed which, in midsummer, to a small extent, affects and kills sheep. it is called _blaauwtong_, and does not affect horses. descending further, this danger to sheep increases and begins earlier. below , feet altitude in the transvaal the summer season is dangerous to sheep, and horses and mules are subject to horse sickness; whilst lower still the same malaria attains sufficient virulence to attack human beings, and becomes very deadly upon levels nearing the coast. komati poort, the frontier railway station already mentioned, is dreaded as a still worse death-trap than even delagoa bay, where it is very unsafe, say, from december to end of april. the season of horse sickness terminates upon the appearance of the first sharp frost in may. the safeguards for human beings consist in avoidance at night and early morning of low-lying localities, or such elevated places even which are subject to be invaded by miasmatic emanations produced on and wafted from dangerous lower levels. drink no unboiled water except that from deep wells or rain-water; maintain careful and moderate diet, active habits, but avoiding extreme exertions and excitements; a very sparing use of alcoholic drinks, preferably taken with the regular meals, is admissible. donkeys, horned cattle, and goats are exempt from malarial risks. for horses and mules no certain remedy appears as yet to be known. the best research, on behalf of the transvaal government, by specially requisitioned french bacteriologists, assisted by that famous microbe-hunter, dr. theiler (dr. theiler is the transvaal veterinary surgeon and chief of the medical laboratory, pretoria, a noted swiss savant, who, with the aid of the said french experts, discovered the rinderpest inoculation remedy), has failed to find the bacillus of horse sickness. barely five per cent, of the horses attacked recover, and about ten per cent, of mules. these are then called salted, and are immune from horse sickness; they can after that be safely used in the worst localities, and are correspondingly more valuable. they are, however, liable periodically to light after-attacks, when it is safer to exempt them from work for a day, or for a few hours at least. some proprietors of mail coaches are in the habit of administering doses of arsenic to their horses and mules, which are said to operate in lessening the death rate and to favour the salting process. as safeguards for horses and mules, the following rules have been found to minimise losses in dangerous tracts where the low clinging miasmatic vapours are so deadly during the night and earlier parts of the morning. (during rainfall there is hardly any danger, nor is there after a night's rain for the day following):-- do not traverse low suspicious tracts during the hours between p.m. and, say, two hours after sunrise, lest poisonous vapours be encountered and inhaled by man or horse. choose the most elevated spots for camping out at night. no grazing to be allowed from p.m. to about or a.m., unless it is raining. dewy grass is fatally poisoned; the heavy moist air close to the surface is also suspected. grazing is only safe after the soil and grass are dried of all dewy moisture. avoid all water of at all a stagnant nature; rather let the animals remain thirsty. if the animals have been fed with dry fodder during the night, let the first morning stage be moderate and not exhausting. with empty stomachs the task might be somewhat increased, but even then it should be less than any other succeeding stage. when the first symptoms of sickness are noticed they may pass over if the animal is at once freed from work and allowed to rest, or is at most led when marching. among the most dangerous places for horse sickness and for fever to human beings are the luxurious dongas, ravines, and valleys which abound along the long stretches of mountains and broken country immediately below the high plateaux. the passes leading up to the high veldt are few in number, and so precipitous as to be almost impracticable for vehicles. of late years those roads have been allowed to fall into disrepair, in order, it may be supposed, to check wagon traffic and to promote that by railway; apart from the railway, communication with delagoa bay would now be impossible. what with the fever climate in summer, and the formidable mountain barriers, the transvaal high veldt is well protected from aggression from the direction of delagoa bay. a few thousand men distributed at the few mountain passes, blocking the tunnel at one of these (at waterval boven), and breaking up some few bridges, would effectually arrest the progress of any invading force. climate and topography from the tropical zambesi regions and the torrid kalahari plains, down to the th parallel at cape point, a great diversity of climatic conditions is met with. to the north and north-east are the steaming, death-breeding low lands, abounding with dank virgin forests and scrubby stretches; and to the north-west extend the arid, sandy, and stony levels. there are the temperate and fruitful inland reaches along the southern and south-eastern littoral, and again further inward the vast plateaux at , to , feet elevation, which represent nearly one-half of the sub-continent with quite other climatic aspects. in the southern and western provinces of the cape colony the rainy season occurs during the winter months, probably because of the proximity to the trade wind influences prevailing over the south atlantic; over the rest of south africa the winters are dry and sunny, the rains falling in summer, most copiously in december and january, the effect being that there are hardly any winter rigours, and the heat of summer is minimised. the most agreeable climate is that on the higher plateau levels: never hot nor altogether cold, and yet virile and bracing; something like the climate on sunny days found in the higher alpine regions in summer and in the mild algerine winters. this climate is found from the queenstown district at about , feet elevation, extending north and westwards over the stormberg, the orange free state, and along the lordly drakensberg range and its spurs some to miles into the transvaal, where the highest plateau levels occur between ermelo and to near lydenburg, viz., , feet. the harrismith district near that mountain range is at a similar altitude with an identical climate. these high tracts are called _hoogeveldt_ or highlands. their altitude rises steadily with the advance northwards towards warmer latitudes, and with the compensating effect that the climate in the queenstown district, bontebok flats for example, at , feet elevation, is exactly similar to that in the eastern portions of the orange free state at , feet, right up to near lydenburg at , feet altitude, and being some six degrees further north than queenstown. the northern half of natal also partakes of that character, though there, as well as over the rest of the eastern slopes of the drakensberg mountains, the country is more broken and hilly than on the western side. the cape colonial high veldt near the drakensberg range is intersected by high continuations or spurs, but north and westwards those plateaux assume more the real aspect of continuous high plains. there is a gradual descent to the west; from occasional hilly ranges those dwindle to kopjes, and to still less elevated "randjes" occurring in clusters more and more apart, until yet further westwards one gets to the merely undulating sterile approaches of the karoo and the plains around and beyond kimberley, which merge at last in the still lower kalahara desert. within or miles from the drakensberg slopes the country is well-watered, and the rainfall ample and generally regular, but westwards this abundance progressively decreases with a more tardy and precarious rainy season, occasioning at times severe droughts accompanied with correspondingly protracted and very hot weather. those high plains make up one vast green sward from the time of the spring rains in september to april. from may the absence of rain, together with the night frosts, shrivel up the herbage, giving the country a pale-brown aspect. this continues until the return of spring, varied with large expanses of black, caused by accidental or intentional grass fires, and here and there a few green spots in specially sheltered and moist localities. those burnt spaces may extend for miles, and are for the time veritable deserts. the landscape being quite black and the atmosphere generally very clear, it is obvious that objects of any lighter colour would be conspicuous at very long distances: an ideal background for khaki targets. most of the land is well suited for agriculture, but by far the largest proportion is as yet used only for raising sheep, horses and cattle. angora goats also thrive in the hillier parts. about forty years ago the karoo plains, the orange free state, and transvaal were, so to say, monopolised by milliards of game. standing upon an eminence or a swell one could see in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, innumerable herds of all sorts of game grazing, resting or gambolling; the different kinds would be ranged in separate groups and could be distinguished by their special colours--the black-looking wildebeest (gnu) next to the striped quag-gas, the white-flanked springbocks, blesbocks with a blaze on their foreheads, the larger elands and other kinds of the antelope species. almost all those vast herds have disappeared since, having been killed off by natives and boers for their hides and for food, or else scared away farther north, where rinderpest extirpated nearly all the rest in - . in the earlier days, and even not so long ago in some parts, the farmers' crops required guarding during the night against the depredations of game. this is still so in the north-western plains of the cape colony, as already remarked. in may most of the harrismith district farmers and those of the transvaal high veldt move their sheep, horses and cattle to winter in natal, swaziland, and to the other extensive low lands most adjacent, to return after the spring rains in september or october. sheep and horses could not with safety remain longer in those warm regions, as then the fatal malarial _blaauwtong_ begins there to attack sheep, and horse sickness becomes virulent as well. the high veldt, as said before, is exempt from that danger. some of the wealthier farmers can arrange it so that they and their families can winter at their comfortable high-veldt homes and send attendants with their cattle to the low veldt, while others, not so well favoured, must close up their houses and accompany their flocks to winter in the warm tracts, where they live in their wagons and tents and escape the outlay for winter clothing. owing to the scarcity of wood on the high veldt, kraal fuel used formerly to be the staple substitute. this would be obtained by penning up sheep over-night. the deposits were after a month or two dug out in thick flags, which, after being stacked and dried over the kraal wall, would burn nearly as well and as brightly as wood. the discovery of coal beds in so many accessible places in the cape colony, natal, and in the two republics has since superseded that sort of fuel to a great extent. the small divergence between summer and winter temperature upon the high table lands will be seen from the following table taken from observations at , to , feet altitude in the transvaal:-- fahr. fahr. in winter-- ° to ° at night; ° to ° by day in the shade. in summer-- ° to ° at night; ° to ° by day in the shade. it is not often that ° is reached, and rarely above. this applies equally to the more southern and thus colder latitudes of queenstown, at , feet elevation, and to the eastern half of the orange free state, at , to , feet, the warmth increasing, as said before, proportionately with the descent in altitude, and on occasions of tardy summer rains. the winter is the most enjoyable of the seasons, being an almost uninterrupted continuation of fine sunny weather. on occasions there would be spells of boisterous weather with a rather sudden and inclement decrease of temperature, brought on by cold south-east winds; if these are accompanied with rain in winter, which, however, rarely happens, it would sometimes turn to sleet or even snow, or else to hard freezing at night. the snow would, however, thaw with the warmth of the sun, and so restore the temperature as before. the bracing quality of the climate mostly consists just in those variations of cool nights and warm days, and the occasional days of comparatively cold, boisterous weather. the latter must indeed be provided against, for even in december--that is to say, in the middle of summer--it would be imprudent to travel without great-coats as well as waterproofs, so as to be protected against unexpected changes, from say, ° in the sun, almost suddenly to ° with a driving wind, accompanied perhaps with rain. such transitions are trying in the open, even if one is well clad, and the blustering weather is sometimes so severe, if it happens in winter or early spring, as to approach the character of a blizzard. one such lasted about thirty hours in the early spring of . it swept over the entire south african plateaux and destroyed great numbers of sheep and cattle. these fell exhausted in their flight before they could reach some sheltering hills or ravines. in situations where such protections from the cold south-east wind were far apart the veldt was on the following day found strewn with their carcases, and upon the still more extensive and unbroken plains antelopes even perished in enormous numbers simply from exhaustion in trying to escape and find shelter from the cold wind. i will just describe one of those occurrences, the severest in my experience and well remembered by the free state and the transvaal boers--it was, i think, in . one sunny day, early in august (spring time), at a place about twenty miles east of reddersburg, in the orange free state, the wind veered to the south-east, and by afternoon had begun to blow fairly hard and cold, about ° fahrenheit--that is to say, about ° below the temperature of a few hours previously. i had managed to get some milch cows driven near to the kraal, where there would have been very fair shelter for them, but luckily, as the sequel proved, they refused to enter, and rushed past in a scared way, just snatching up one mouthful of forage which had been thrown down to entice them to stay, and making off as hard as they could. the wind did not abate till the day after, when tales kept pouring in of terrible losses of sheep and cattle killed by the cold wind; sheep in open plains had suffered most, and cattle which had been kraaled were nearly all dead, whilst the herds of cattle and horses which had been left grazing out had been driven away and were also believed to have died. at the farm of a certain andries bester, near by, some seventy head of cattle in very good condition were found dead, piled up to the level of one of the kraal walls, showing the struggle which some thirty others had in escaping over the mound of dead cattle to the outside of the kraal. the next day all those thirty head were found grazing some fifteen miles westwards under the lee of hills near reddersburg, where they had found safe shelter. everybody's cattle were recovered which had not been kraaled, including mine. this was the case as well with cattle which had been tethered to their transport wagons and which succeeded in breaking loose, whilst the rest were found dead where they had been tied. there was no possibility of restraining cattle or horses from stampeding--they did it from the instinct of self-preservation, for, whilst running with the wind, its force of driving cold was proportionately lessened, and some loss of heat was made good by the exertion of running, which they had to keep up till in safe shelter of hills or ravines. had such a cold storm overtaken an army or patrol, the situation would have been exactly similar, and would have been an ordeal even to experienced boers or colonial farmers, and if an enemy had been located near reddersburg, all the cattle and horses would simply have fallen into his lap. the obvious safeguard would be a rug for each horse and mule, and for oxen the erection of a shelter against the wind, consisting of all available wagons and stores, or else, if practicable, to move at once to a sheltered locality and always provide a good reserve supply of forage or other provender. that sort of boisterous, cold weather continues sometimes, with more or less severity, two or three days. the want of food and inclemency besides would result in killing the weak cattle and weaken the rest so as to be incapable of work for some days after. the difficulty consists in that such inclement changes occur so suddenly, and that their severity and duration cannot be forecasted. upon other much less severe occasions entire gangs of - kaffirs, travelling from the warm north to the diamond-fields or gold-mines, and not sufficiently provided with blankets, would be found at their camping places huddled together, nearly all numbed to death. the months when such surprise weather is most liable to occur are from "july to october," before and during the earlier spring rains. it is then, and even up to december at times, that the drakensberg and other mountains resume their snow-capped winter decorations for some days. there is a saying which fairly well applies to the high-veldt climate, _i.e._, that cold and inclement weather is not met with until well in towards summer, especially about the time of spring rains, and that hot weather of any considerable continuance mostly occurs in spring. this will be understood upon considering that the midsummer months, december to february, are cooled by very frequent and copious rains, whilst the heat accumulates more during the preceding sunny spring months, which are interrupted at rarer intervals by short showers only. upon the whole, and despite the few eccentricities mentioned, the high veldt is favoured with a climate which, for genial comfort all the year round, exempt from prolonged winter rigours and excessive summer heat, is not found anywhere else in the world, or only in rare privileged spots. it is withal most healthy, promoting the highest possible physical development and even longevity. under such favoured conditions the hand of man only is needed in providing good habitations, planting trees, in the culture of the soil, and some irrigation labour, to transform nearly every little farm within five to ten years from a bare pastoral monotony to a really idyllic spot. there are many such already in basutoland, the orange free state, and the transvaal, as well as in the cape colonies and natal--veritable eden-like places, as it were bits dropped from heaven. with a continuance of peace these could be multiplied to any extent each year, thus rendering those sparsely inhabited tracts the most beautiful areas in the world, with a prosperous self-sustaining population, quite apart from considerations of mineral wealth. the foregoing description of the high-veldt climate points to clothing composed of woollen fabrics as the only _rational and safe_ attire for men travelling or taking the field. no constitution could be expected to hold out against the ever-changing temperature and weather if depending upon being clad, for example, in a cotton suit; this would only do on warm days for men who are certain of being safely housed at night and sheltered during rainy weather. horses and mules in the open should be provided with woollen rugs during winter and spring. boer preparedness for war the ultimatum cabled to england had no sooner expired at p.m. on the th october last than the same evening and on the very next and succeeding days appeared, published all over the orange free state and the transvaal, "government gazettes extraordinary," filling scores of pages, comprising proclamations of martial law, and the hundred and one enactments and provisions regulating that new condition. their preambles stated: whereas in secret session on such and such dates (that is to say, months previous) the honourable first volksraad had passed this or that law--or whereas the two volksraads, assembled in secret session, had authorized the government to frame such and such laws, to come into force immediately after publication. this shows at least a studious purpose months beforehand to be in complete readiness, for it obviously took no little time to prepare all those laws, and have them ready in type for despatch and publication as had been done. it accords with the assumption that war had been predetermined, and this is further confirmed by numerous statements, publicly made by volksraad members, and also by president steyn's famous and now historic message to president krüger some short time before, in the laconic and oracular words, "we are ready." that the afrikaner bond had been for years past preparing for its _coup d'état_ is further shown by the following incidents which can be substantiated by the writer:-- during the days of the jameson raid a very prominent transvaal boer, holding office and who had two sons at the scene of the disturbance, remarked at a public place in conversation with other burghers:-- "england just wants to annex the transvaal, and no doubt the orange free state too. this we know; but what she does not know is, that we can at this moment reverse the tale--we can seize in one day cape town, port elizabeth, east london, and durban, and within a very short time turn every englishman out of the colonies, out of the land which england has robbed us of." those words were spoken by a bond man who is known to rarely speak in public. when asked by a uitlander how it could be done, he relapsed into his usual prudent reticence, and merely remarked grimly, "we can do it." but for subsequent revelations and the present sequel those words would have been forgotten, and were at the time attributed by some to mere boastful exuberance. in july last the topic was discussed by some boers at the house of a highly placed military official, about the five per cent. tax upon the profits of the gold industry. one said it should be raised to twenty-five per cent. for the benefit of the burgher estate. that official, who, by the way, had just returned from a gathering of country officials at pretoria, sententiously replied "that it was no more a question of any tribute, but of taking the mines altogether out of the capitalists' hands"; and when another burgher interposed a doubt as to the fairness of such a proceeding, that official continued by saying, "fairness indeed! it is we who have submitted to unfairness only too long--_ons wil nou engelse schiet_ (we want now to go on the battue of englishmen)." when the transvaal government had secured the assent of both volksraads to the seven years' franchise measure it was thought desirable, as a matter of form and to gain time, to defer the formal passing of the law until after it had been referred to the burghers. this was not done till august last. a large section of the people were known to be against extending the franchise, but the government had no misgivings about the result, counting upon the persuasive influence of the volksraad members who were to preside at the plebiscite meetings, and had before been drilled up to their task. their success was as desired, and the measure became law in due course. those meetings in the different districts and wards of the state were characterised by almost uniform proceedings, so that the description of one of them can serve for all. the burghers assembled on the appointed day at the local government office. the landdrost, or chief official of the ward, took the chair. there were four volksraad members, who each in turn recommended the adoption of the seven years' franchise measure. the burghers were invited to express their views. the majority appeared dead against it, but were gradually appeased, and they finally assented to a motion of approval presented by the chairman, which also conveyed full confidence in the government and their representatives to deal with the enactment and to modify it as they might consider appropriate. one of the burghers had in his speech stated in passionate terms that no dictation on the part of uitlanders could be tolerated; they must either obey the laws or leave the state. the function and prerogative of making laws belonged to the burghers. they had been ill-used enough by the english; it would be still worse, he said, if they were invested with legislative rights. "on the contrary, it is the boer nation which is entitled to supremacy, not only in the transvaal but right to the sea. the cape colonies," he continued, "are ours by divine right, and so is natal, and no afrikaner may rest until we are reinstated." general approbation and stamping of feet followed that passionately rendered speech. not a word of restraint or censure from any of the four volksraad members. some of these had addressed the meeting already, and the others in turn followed. their speeches had one import, viz., "burghers! the government and the two volksraads have carefully and prayerfully weighed this seven years' franchise measure. you may safely approve of it; it can result in no harm; it will strengthen our cause. we know that england wants our land because of the gold in it; but this law will contribute to thwart her, though it will not avert war. we were a small nation when our fathers trekked to this side of the orange river; we have become united and strong since. it will be soon seen that our people have to be reckoned with among the other nations of the earth; we have right on our side, and, with god's help, we are certain to prevail. burghers, you may trust us as your representatives; we are all of one mind with you; you may safely approve of the proposed franchise law, and leave possible modifications in the hands of the government." then followed tumultuous approval from the great majority, motions of confidence and of thanks. those burgher meetings were convened during july and august. * * * * * president krüger is famous for employing clever and original similes in order to illustrate a policy as he wants his people to understand it. it has already been noted that the franchise law of excluded uitlanders from full burgher rights until after twenty-one years' probation. the reduction to seven years was proclaimed to be a concession to meet mr. chamberlain's demand. the simile, as addressed to the volksraad and published in the journals, ran as follows:-- "first my coat was demanded of me, which i gave; next were asked my boots, vest, and trousers. i surrendered these as well; and now, as i stand in my bare shirt, my limbs are wanted besides." the people were thus led to be unanimous in the resolve to oppose any further concession, and to view sir alfred milner's unconditional insistence for a five years' franchise as a conclusive proof that england in reality wanted no less than the country itself. in this way the boer mind was designedly fashioned into the conviction that war was inevitable, and that both president and people were absolved from all responsibility in it. had the offered franchise of seven years and the subsequent one of five years been honestly meant, there should, indeed, have been little difficulty for adjusting in the one case the difference of two years; but it being so surrounded by impossible trammels that what purported to be an egg proved more like a stone, and even that was not intended to be given, it was a mere subterfuge to gain time for carrying out bond designs. alliance of orange free state with transvaal--suzerainty squabble--armaments before jameson raid the project of alliance between the transvaal and the orange free state had been mooted before . after that came conferences between the respective presidents and delegates for closer union as it was then styled. mr. john g. fraser, one of the noblest and most distinguished orange free state statesmen, was conspicuous among the few opponents. his arguments against federation were so logical and conclusive that it seemed for a while that the idea would have to be renounced. among other grounds adduced against that alliance was the fact that england possessed claims of suzerainty over the transvaal, and, the orange free state itself being entirely independent, the incongruity and incompatibility were obvious of joining a vassal state. there was trouble if not danger lurking behind it, if such two states were to join in an actual federation. whatever was desirable for mutual advantage might be attained without offensive and defensive alliance. the two governments, however, knew how to manipulate matters. the closer union scheme was carried through before the jameson incursion, and soon after that event an offensive and defensive alliance completed the federation. the afrikaner bond then had advanced another important stage. mr. john g. fraser's persistent objections to federation, upon the ground that the transvaal stood under british suzerainty, had given that question a prominence operating against the afrikaner bond project, viz., that of gaining a strong power as ally to its cause. it was felt that no power could, with decency, enter into a connection with that state while such a claim was maintained. to overcome that obstacle the transvaal government proceeded to raise a controversy with england, taking up the position of repudiating the claim of suzerainty, and averring the complete independence of the state, subject only to the one clause _re_ treaties with foreign nations. another object would be gained, viz., of diverting england from bond aims by that and similar controversies. to make a show of sincerity about it all, the opinions (foregathered, of course) of certain eminent jurists in england and holland were obtained, who refuted the claim in elaborate disquisitions and with that readiness of apparent conviction so peculiar to some advocates' affected faith in their clients' cause. thus england was decoyed into a protracted tournament of words and phrases without any practical result, but gratifying and inspiring no doubt to certain well-paid _soi-disant_ champions of the principle defined as the "_perfection of justice_," who revel in a display of forensic erudition, which, however, only illustrates to the unedified lay mind how speech is adaptable to veil inward conviction, and how a mass of rhetoric can be employed to justify the breach of simple and well-understood engagements. it continues to be clumsily insisted upon in official and paid press organs how the need of providing transvaal armaments became realized only with that anglo-capitalistic plot of - against boer independence, and that, in fact, dr. jameson was worthy of the boer nation's lasting gratitude for opening their eyes to their helplessly unarmed and unprepared condition up to that time. in those papers it is declared with unblushing inexactness how the transvaal at that epoch possessed only two hundred and fifty inefficient and ill-equipped artillerists, with only a few cannons of various antiquated types, and how the burgher element had, up to that time, continued unarmed and in unsuspecting insecurity. to stamp these misstatements as false, it needs only to be considered that from the time of the boer trek in - every boer had been a hunter and guerilla soldier possessed of the best firearms then extant, ready at any sacrifice to provide still more effective weapons as inventions in arms of precision in turn progressed. his passion to be well armed only equalled that of his love for land. from every transvaal and orange free state boer without exception had, and was obliged to have, his martini-henry rifle. the government arsenals were supplied with reserves of that up to recently unsurpassed weapon and with large stores of ammunition. the authorities supplied that rifle at £ each, and even gratis in the case of indigent burghers. at the frequent reviews (_wapenschouwingen_) each burgher had to appear mounted, with his martini-henry rifle and thirty rounds ammunition. to maintain proficiency in rifle practice, prizes and honours were distributed at government expense in each ward, whilst there was plenty of private emulation encouraged among young and old in the science of sharp-shooting, the governments of both republics contributing ammunition at below cost price. in about the transvaal government introduced about , new rifles of the guede pattern, firing a steel-pointed bullet, but the issue did not become general, as the martini-henry rifle continued to be held more effective for game and for war. the mauser rifle was only provided, after long hesitation and much diffidence, for its rapid-firing quality in war, whereas for game it is still considered inferior to the larger bored martini-henry. on the occasion of the jameson incursion, the transvaal had in readiness extensive parks of the most modern quick-firing maxims and nordenfeldts of various calibres, and breech-loading field artillery of the krupp make. the orange free state hurried to their assistance with similar artillery, each burgher armed with a martini-henry rifle. besides all that, there was the dynamite and explosives factory equipped to manufacture all sorts of modern ammunition as it does now, and this is why president krüger described that factory as one of the corner-stones of boer independence. in the face of these facts it is a most singular departure to say that the transvaal only thought of arming when becoming alarmed for the future by the jameson attempt, and that statement could only have been intended to mislead the uninformed at a distance. "_qui s'excuse s'accuse_" is applicable in this as well as in other ruses for hiding those sinister bond aims and to pose as the guileless and victimized boer nation. it was just the other way about--it was england who was unprepared and exposed to imminent risk of aggression on the part of the boer combination. what had amazed and actually exasperated many boers was the ludicrously puny attempt made by jameson and the johannesburg revolutionary concert. it was at the time thought that the invasion of some men was only a first installment, and that much larger developments were in preparation to attack the state. it was for that reason that only a few batteries of artillery were despatched at a late moment to doornkop under commandant trichaart to operate against jameson's party, while the bulk was held in reserve with an extensive mobilization of burghers to resist other supposed opposition of an altogether more formidable but yet undefined character. when nothing further transpired, the feeling uppermost with the people was unbounded derision at that impotent fiasco, and a loathing contempt for the cowering johannesburg rabble who betrayed and sacrificed the insensate doctor. it was loudly asserted that the combined forces of the two republics were competent to resist an invasion a hundred times stronger than the one so foolishly attempted; but, with cooler counsels, it was resolved to adopt the appealing attitude of the deeply injured party who miraculously and providentially escaped a great national peril. upon these lines the raid incident afforded an immense advantage to afrikaner bond tactics, and an impulse to bond propaganda which enormously increased boer partisanship, inflicting at the same time a fatal check upon the diplomacy of england and upon the essential peace-preserving measures for safeguarding her south african interests. the circumstances, however, served to embolden many hitherto undecided sympathisers into openly declared and vehement boer partisans, revealing the singular spectacle, among english people even, of a morbid cult apparently ready to sacrifice their nation just to vindicate their judicial dicta about boer innocence and to parade their own darling sense of shocked and violated national honour. quite other and more emphatic terms apply to the revolting sewerage such as the socialistic platform and other purulent nurseries for breeding wilful and hypocritical abettors, at so much a score, of misguided and treason-hatching afrikanerdom. the transvaal dynamite and explosives monopoly the factory pertaining to this enterprise, situated near pretoria, is recognised to be the most extensive and best equipped of its kind in existence. it is capable of turning out all the dynamite and similar blasting material needed for the gold and other mines of the state, also every description of explosive needed for modern ammunition. its equipments include ateliers and laboratories under the conduct of eminent scientists and men of most advanced technical proficiency. the site is a farm named modderfontein of about , acres near pretoria. the industry provides employment for over , persons. in connection with this factory is a foundry at pretoria for casting shells, etc. the various ingredients, such as sulphur, guhr, saltpetre, etc., are believed to be plentiful in the state, but their exploitation is found to be more costly than it is to import the pure articles from europe. the investment is represented mostly by french and german shareholders, the transvaal government also possessing a portion of the shares. the contract with the state conveys a complete monopoly for the manufacture and importation of all descriptions of explosives, and is so framed as to base its subsistence upon international rights. one of the conditions is that the issue of ammunition is relegated to state control. in this manner burghers only get supplies, whilst uitlanders are limited to very small quantities for sporting purposes by special permits. bond fighting strength in beginning of efficiently _mounted infantry._ at least about , trained. , orange free state, between - years . . . . . . . . . . . . . , , transvaal, between - years . . , , cape colonies, between - years . . . . . . . . . . . . . , , natal and elsewhere, between - years . . . . . . . . . . . . . , , of above, aged - and - . . , ------- ------ , _artillery_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . , orange free state, including trained reserves . . . . . . . . , transvaal . . . . . . . . . . . . . , ------- ----- ------- , . . . . . . . . . . . total at least about , , highly efficient, and , partly trained. the mounts are docile, hardy and nimble, with large reserves available. the above includes johannesburg mounted police, a picked body of men armed with carbine, revolver, and sabre. _small arms_ . . . . . . . . . about , martini-henry rifles in orange free state } } , " " " in transvaal } guede rifles in transvaal . . . . . . . . , mauser rifles in transvaal . . . . . . . . , revolvers in both states . . . . . . . . . , ------ _artillery, both republics_ . . . . . . . . maxims and nordenfeldts, modern . . . . . field cannon and howitzers " . . . . . siege and heavy guns " . . . . . boer conservatism rudyard kipling truly said "the boers are the most conservative people on earth." habits and views which had prevailed two hundred years ago with their forefathers are still tenaciously preserved by them. we see this in matters of language, religion, in certain antipathies, and even in attire. they are justly famed for hospitality, not only amongst themselves, but also towards strangers, and a very pleasing trait, no doubt handed down from the seigneurial huguenots, is the genial politeness which a stranger will receive in an otherwise wholly uncultured boer family. on his farm the boer is chief and supreme after the patriarchal fashion--no thought of tolerating an equal or a rival in authority. collectively also, as in governmental representation, he is extremely averse to the introduction of any foreign element; such a factor would meet with his undisguised suspicion and jealousy. it must be boer supremacy, and to this strangers must submit; the boers to figure as the only caste or military aristocracy privileged to carry arms, very much like the samouris nobles of japan, who from of old until recently had represented the feudal estate, and had made quite a famous cult of personal bravery, chivalry and devotion to their mikado and for their independent caste. long intercourse and inter-marriage with a boer family would ultimately remove the barrier. with such rooted exclusiveness it is only in accord with boer nature to be reluctant in admitting uitlanders to burgher franchise, and the greater their numbers and influence of wealth the more would they be viewed as an innovating menace and their admittance to political equality be resisted. upon newly occupied farms a boer will always seek to locate one or more squatters of his own nation upon allotments ultimately intended for the occupation of some of his own children as soon as they are grown up. the usual conditions for privileges of residence, grazing, and cultivation are that the squatter builds a dwelling and does all the other permanent improvements at his own cost, that he accounts to the owner for half or one-third of all products raised, and that he and his family should render services whenever required. when the squatter acquires land of his own he will in turn adopt similar feudal methods to get it improved and to obtain services without expense. should the conditions accorded to the squatter result in advantages which prove any way lucrative to him, the owner would in nine cases out of ten immediately impose more exacting conditions, upon the plea of making provision for his own children. such dependants are otherwise treated with familiar equality, as are also other white employees, and are admitted at the common table like any of the family, but below the salt. to acquire farms is a boer's greatest ambition. the love of land is his special passion, so that his children also may be independent owners of farms. formerly such land acquisitions were made by encroachments upon the possessions of natives or by purchases from them and by barter, and failing those means, by conquest. since , however, the stipulations in connection with the anglo-swaziland settlement effectually barred expansion and encroachments in any direction. the boers resent this check as an exceedingly sore point. there is not enough land for the sons who have since grown up. these cannot possibly compete with the educated hollanders in quest of good positions, nor are they taught any handicrafts, and the galling prospect is inevitable that they will have to content themselves with very humble stations in life, dependent even upon the more prosperous uitlanders. no wonder these boers fell an easy prey to the seductions and deceptive fallacies of the afrikaner bond doctrine of conquest, for dispossessing england of her colonies, and to resume a free hand for expansion northwards as well. in connection with the stated inadequacy of spare land it is well to note that, of the two republics, the transvaal only possesses undeveloped government reserve land. this is all situated in more or less low-lying and fever-stricken parts, large tracts being absolutely uninhabitable for that reason, especially in summer. some of the rest is occupied on terms of lease by burghers, and has up to the present afforded scope for some of the less aspiring class. about one-quarter of the aggregate transvaal farms are owned by uitlander individuals or by companies who are mostly english. but the bulk of the land owned by burghers in both states has gradually become cut up by the process of succession into holdings so small as to admit of hardly any further division. there are, of course, numerous exceptions of wealthy farmers who can still bequeath to each of their sons a whole farm of , acres, or half a farm. in the face of these restrictive circumstances a scheme has been in preparation during the past years, promoted by the bond coterie in holland and the governments of the two republics, to effect a large emigration from holland to those states. a company has thus been formed, called "nederlandsche emigratie maatschappy voor transvaal en oranje vry staat." the prospectus describes the objects as agricultural, pastoral, and industrial, but, as "members," only such are invited as are disposed to join hands with the boer cause. that scheme came into operation before the outbreak of the war. what else does it reveal but a thinly veiled recruiting device for auxiliaries against england? education what has been said about the ignorance and illiteracy of the boers may be admitted to apply to the great majority of the grown-up and of the more maturely aged population; those of youthful age have of late years had the benefit of a better education than had before been possible to provide. but the great drawback consists in the still very imperfect knowledge of high dutch, and it will take many years yet before a more general proficiency in that language will qualify the youth for more than purely elementary studies. there are numerous exceptions, however, of very creditably educated boers, whose parents have been able to get them taught at colonial schools, such as the stellenbosch seminary, and even in holland. besides this, there are the children and grandchildren of the many educated hollanders who have continued to stream into the republics since , and who had the advantage of learning high dutch from their parents. those, as a rule, bestowed great attention to their children's education, and in many cases sent them to holland to complete their studies. the greatest factor of the educated dutch element in south africa consists of the mass of hollanders itself, who have made their way to the republics, and especially to the transvaal, during the past eighteen years, among whom are many of highest european attainments, so that altogether a big muster is made up of well-instructed people, comparing well enough with other nations, and ample to meet all the exigencies of the two rapidly developing republics. this educated contingent is being continuously supplemented by like arrivals from holland, including eminent technical experts and scientists. it is a well-known feature that many chief posts of the administration are filled by aged, uneducated burghers who are altogether without the qualification required for the exercise of their function, but this drawback is effectually remedied by the expedient of providing proficient hollanders as working adjuncts and secretaries, in which manner all the branches of the administration are nevertheless efficiently and most creditably served. hundreds of young boers are admitted as supernumeraries into the various offices to prepare them for responsible positions later on. dundee secret dossier the greatest stir was made upon the discovery of secret documents left behind by the british military at the hurried evacuation of dundee (natal). it was made public that those documents contained all the details of a plan of invading the orange free state, and that it furnished most incontestable proofs of british designs as early as against the independence of both republics. it was promised to publish those details, but this has not yet been done. it appears, however, that no incriminating details exist. nevertheless, the matter has been made to serve calumniating reports on a considerable scale in the pro-boer press abroad, declaring that those documents conveyed absolute proofs of england's perfidious intentions of attacking the orange free state unawares, whilst all the time professing friendly relations and undertaking to respect the complete integrity of the republican status of both states. what actually has transpired is that the whole thing was a mare's nest, simply and nothing more than military information under cover marked "secret," giving topographical and other details upon the orange free state--a proceeding which is carried out by all military authorities of any pretensions to prudent activity in the information department, and no more construable into actual hostile intentions than are other geographical surveys for general instructions or for school use. the incident again shows the absence of tangible grounds for accusations against england when a foolish invention as the one cited must do duty for such, and to rekindle race hatred. the interest and the manipulation devoted to that fabrication by the pro-boer press have, however, scored another success to bond propaganda in fixing the belief with boer partisans, of england's really predetermined designs to annex both republics. every boer has since been more than ever so persuaded, the conviction fanning the fervour of patriotism and stimulating his eagerness to resist the would-be ravishers of his country. considering, on the other hand, that the english government had known much about the afrikaner bond menace, it is singular that precautionary measures had halted with that bare effort of making military observations. the only way to account for this apparent lethargic inaction is the assumption that a persevering patience and friendly attitude was expected in time to effectually dissipate all trouble in south africa, and that a display of anxiety or of force would have frustrated such peaceable tactics. in refutation of the aspersion against england, it may be sufficient to point to the fact that during those very years ( - ) both republics were in a condition of complete helplessness through the rinderpest scourge which was then raging. if any hostile designs had in reality existed they could have been carried out with utmost ease then, as that scourge presented no obstacle to england. but it was the programme of peace which was pursued as undeviatingly then as since, with a constancy which refused to be foiled. pamphlet entitled _a hundred years of injustice_ a mass of so-called proof against england of her guilt in provoking the present war and justifying the boer attitude was presented to the public in south africa and abroad in november last in the shape of a voluminous pamphlet entitled _a hundred years of injustice_ (published both in english and dutch, and later even translated into french). that production covers boer history and its troubles with england up to . it then travels over the diplomatic appeals of the transvaal delegation, which resulted in the renewed convention of . then it wades through all the mire of academic squabble _re_ suzerainty, etc. after exhausting the jameson episode with bitter invective, and seeking applause for the transvaal government for its professed desire to conciliate and to propitiate england by the offer of a seven years' franchise, the reader is, in conclusion, 'treated to a literary display of pyrotechnic denunciations and prophetic burdens against wicked albion, with appeals to divine justice for righting the cause of an innocent nation so foully driven to a war of pure self-defence. lest he be taken unawares the reader of that pamphlet would do well to note the significant fact in connection with those preferred accusations and aspersions that not a single act construable to the prejudice of england is adduced dating after the anglo-transvaal peace of , that peace which had been mutually understood to close up all by-gones. but the recriminations all revert to previous history, nothing having occurred since to form real grounds for accusations. there had, on the contrary, been an exhibition of unwearied friendly endeavours on the part of great britain to maintain loyal peace with an ever-shifty and truculent government, and to induce it to desist from scandalous intrigue against imperial interests in south africa, and to adopt a more rational attitude towards uitlanders, which in itself would have precluded troubles like that of the johannesburg revolt and the jameson raid. an old free stater's admonition the doctrines of the afrikaner bond coterie have been so assiduously and deeply instilled into the boer mind that demonstrations are utterly futile in shaking the national conviction of the divinely approved justice of his cause. the first occasion when i saw this illustrated, and also the people's unreasoning adherence to their leaders' opinions, happened about ten years ago at burgher meetings which had been convened to discuss the then projected law for restraining uitlanders from admission to transvaal franchise and other political topics. an old free state burgher was led then and subsequently to express his views upon the subject in about the following strain: "it is our duty to guard our nation against being swamped out or supplanted by strangers; they are in great force already, and their number will constantly increase, yet what attracts them, as you know, is our gold. that will give out eventually, when the majority will again depart. those strangers, who then elect to remain with us, might be admitted to full burgher rights. in the meantime it behoves us to reserve the full franchise, nor will many aspire to it if they are only treated well as strangers should be, as we should wish to be treated if we were in their place. this is what they expect from us, and it can well be done without giving full franchise, which they indeed do not need and will then not claim. they will be content if their own interests are not hampered or interfered with, and will be satisfied with such rights and privileges as are reasonably due to guests, and we may say welcome guests (for it is plain that the land is also largely benefited by their presence). in other respects let us support law and order to suppress evil, which they desire as well as we do. "does the bible not say, 'the lord loveth the stranger?' so also then must we; and again, 'thou shalt not devise mischief against the stranger who dwelleth in peace with thee.' we are reputed as a god-fearing people. is it not well that we should take great care to act in accordance? but i have observed with shame that instead of love and peace a spirit of hatred and strife has been allowed to gain upon us. let us strive to expel that evil, lest we fall under god's displeasure and forfeit his favour. we cannot afford to lose that." at this stage the speaker was interrupted by violent remarks about england's incurable perfidy and the like, when he added, prolonging his speech more than he had probably intended: "yes, we may not trust england, but what we must do is to trust in god. did god not pull us through all along? was it not he who provided the peace of which restored our independence? and can that gracious lord, if we only let him act, not also protect us against any wiles and dangers if such should occur in the future? as yet none such have arisen. the lord was with us in our battles for liberty; he was equally present and prompted the sense and conditions of that very convention of , which the people were subsequently dissatisfied with and in their own wisdom sacrificed for that of . it is just possible that that presumptuous act of wanting to improve upon the lord's work will result in trouble and prove to our sorrow that we have simply tampered and tinkered with a good thing and spoilt it to our hurt. "'thou shalt not provoke thy children to wrath lest they be discouraged and be tempted to do evil,' applies specially also to the duties of governments. our rulers need wisdom in this direction, and will be responsible if our strangers are subjected to unfair laws. the older people here will call to mind, when the old voortrekkers were obliged to go hundreds of miles, as far as pietermaritzburg, for their supplies, that we prayed for shopkeepers in our land so that we might be spared those long journeys. what was done soon after we had attracted strangers to establish businesses with us? we were seduced to deliberately attempt their ruin by starting those _nationale boerenwinkels_ (national boer stores), supported by our own capital, but governed by hollanders who eventually squandered our money. was that dealing fairly by confiding strangers? later on, again in response to our prayers, we got railways; skilled men and much capital from foreign countries, first to prospect for gold and then to develop and exploit the mines. their labour and hard-earned money were risked when the return was still problematic. shall we begrudge them their successes now, seeing that our whole land is equally enriched at the same time, and but for them and their enterprise the gold would still be lying uselessly hidden in the depths of the ground? there are now, in , over , such strangers in the land, and probably over millions capital invested. shall they be treated in a manner to justify the accusation that they were inveigled into our land with the object of despoiling them afterwards after the style of 'come into my parlour, says the spider to the fly'? these people count upon our honest friendship, especially the many english among them who ground that confidence upon the honourable peace accorded us in . shall we deceive them? may we hate them for old questions which that peace was intended to bury for ever? think of the lord's dealings with our people--poor, wandering, and despised at first. he had blessings in store for the tried voortrekkers and their children. 'the beggar was raised from the dunghill [_asch-hoop, i.e._, ash-heap, was the word he used] to sit with princes'--'a table laid for us in the sight of our enemies.' all this is literally fulfilled. our president and others representing us have been to europe and sat with princes, and we have a country full of riches enough to make any enemy to rage with jealousy at the sight. who else but the devil is that enemy? it is he who persecuted our dutch and huguenot ancestors for their faith, and is pursuing us since. it is he and his army that rage the most at our unexampled blessings. it is he who wants us to forfeit them all and the lord's favour as well. it emanates from the evil one that so many among us are seduced into wicked political plans to subvert authority installed by god, to incite our brethren to sedition in the colonies, wanting to dispossess the english. for the queen's government there is as much from god as are the authorities over us here and in the orange free state. "god saith by solomon (prov. xxiv. - ): 'my son, fear thou the lord and the king; and meddle not with them that are given to change: for their calamity shall rise suddenly; and who knoweth the destruction of them both?'" and he finally warned them of the risk they incurred, after having been advanced and blessed in an unexampled way, of being flung back to their previous ignoble position upon the ash heap. there are plenty of respectable boers in whose ears those expressions still tingle. the man, who is no speaker, was, nevertheless, apt to grow warm and impressive, drawn out probably by interruptions and opposing views. the speeches terminated on one occasion by one of the party saying in violent bond fashion: "the english hired the zulus to massacre our people. they robbed us of natal, and drove us from the colonies. there can be no peace with them until we have our own. god helps them who help themselves. whoever takes their part is against us and against every true afrikaner." _modus vivendi_ suggested by old free stater as is known, the conference between sir alfred milner and president krüger, assisted by president steyn, took place at bloemfontein during the first days of june last ( ), and resulted in the refusal to a demand of a five years' franchise made on behalf of the transvaal uitlanders, which refusal was some time later modified by enacting a law admitting them to full burgher rights after a probation of seven years, but coupled with restrictive forms and conditions which made that measure unacceptable. some time before that conference the old free stater already mentioned obtained several prolonged interviews with the hon. state secretary reitz, at pretoria, with the object of dissuading the transvaal government from conferring with sir alfred milner while as yet no sufficient friendly _rapprochement_ had been reached and no advance had been made as to mutually approved bases upon which to confer. he strongly deprecated the idea of granting "full" burgher rights to uitlanders, but held that their needs and wishes could be met by allowing their interests to be amply represented without impinging upon the special privileges which should be reserved for the burgher status proper. he was finally invited by mr. reitz to submit his scheme in writing, with the promise that it should receive careful consideration. that old free stater complied, and supplied president krüger with a duplicate separately as well. the scheme ran in substance as follows: "_modus vivendi_" the population of the transvaal to be divided into two classes, pending the continued presence of the large floating portion consisting of uitlanders who derive their subsistence from the mining industries, viz.:-- st class.--the fixed or burgher estate. nd class.--the floating or alien estate or guests. the st volksraad to be elected by burghers only, and to represent the highest legislative and administrative powers. the nd volksraad to be elected by uitlanders and burghers, and to be vested with all such reasonable legislative powers as will cover the domestic, industrial, and vocative interests of both burghers and guests. the uitlander franchise shall be limited to representation in the nd volksraad, and be extended under usual fair conditions of eligibility to all white persons after two years' residence, retrospectively reckoned. aliens may be admitted to full burgher rights and vote for st volksraad, president, and commandant-general, after five years' residence, if approved of by two-thirds of the burghers of his ward, possesses landed property to the value of £ , , and has not been convicted here or elsewhere of any degrading crime. members of both volksraads and for public service shall be eligible without respect of creed. the exploitation of mines shall be subject to a tax of per cent., reckoned upon the yearly net profits, such revenue to be applied at the discretion of the st volksraad solely for the benefit of the burgher estate--schools, hospitals, universities, pensions, by means of permanent endowments. the government of the transvaal undertakes:-- . there shall be no identification or co-operation permitted, on the part of any of the transvaal people, with the association known as the afrikaner bond, or any such-like political complot. . the recognition of british paramountcy over south africa, including the transvaal, in so far as it does not clash with the intentions and provisions set forth in the conventions of and , and does not extend to interference with or curtailment of complete internal autonomy. . renunciation of indemnity claim _re_ jameson incursion. . to regulate the question of coloured british subjects resident in the transvaal upon a genial basis, irrespective of the bloemfontein arbitration award upon that subject. . poll and war taxes shall be abolished. . dual rights equal with the dutch language shall be accorded to the english language, similarly as is done in the cape colony for dutch. . the railways and dynamite factory to be expropriated as soon as possible--the loans required thereto to be amortized within twenty years, and pending those expropriations the freights upon coal and oversea goods shall be reduced per cent, and the price of explosives s. per case, these reductions to be met from the revenue accruing to the burgher estate from the tax upon mining profits. . to join a general customs union upon equitable conditions. . restore the high court to independent power in terms of constitution. the sequel has shown that bond counsels prevailed over the suggestions of that old free stater. as to the seven years' franchise offered under the pretence and colour of meeting sir alfred milner's demand, it had clearly been intended to serve as a decoy and stop-gap pending the contemplated war of conquest, and to mask bond duplicity while further preparations were to be completed in diplomacy abroad and in the seditious conspiracy in the colonies. natal was at that time swarming with boer emissaries, and transvaal artillery officers with hollander engineers in disguise were seen inspecting laing's nek tunnel and other strategic points in that colony. not knowing at the time that state secretary reitz was an inveterate bondman, that old free state patriot had roundly denounced to him the wickedness of bond aims, and added the remark that the establishment of a united boer republic apart from british supremacy in south africa was a deceptive dream. england has a mission in africa--that of the boers can only be subordinate to it. it would need the aid of a powerful maritime combination to supplant england. the case of america does not present an analogy; there england only was actually interested, but here various other nations were concerned in their respective huge investments. they would have a voice in the business. armed intervention would lead to a big european war and extreme misery to entire africa--just what the devil wants, but not the investor. indiscriminate franchise will cause the loss of national independence, and so might ultimately cosmopolize and obliterate their distinctive nationality, but so would also a war with england, with the total sacrifice of their independence into the bargain. let the government rather prove to england its sincere friendship and agree to deal well by the uitlanders, treating them as privileged guests, then the unhappy strain in relations will cease. above all, renounce that wicked afrikaner bond with its motto of conquest. the demand for franchise is england's device of self-protection against bond designs. england will desist from that demand if we renounce the bond and prove our friendship. that old free stater had moreover expressed his most earnest conviction that a _modus vivendi_ upon the lines suggested would find ready consideration as an alternative to the five years' franchise demand, and that the british government would hail with the utmost satisfaction and relief any tentative towards a sound _rapprochement_ based upon the contentment of the boer people within the areas of their republics and which would terminate bond aspirations for boer supremacy in south africa. had he been permitted, the old free stater would gladly have called upon the british agent at pretoria, mr. conyngham greene, and felt confident that the _modus vivendi_ would lead finally to a complete cessation of british interference and to best relations and prosperous conditions for all instead. he also cautioned the government at pretoria, giving chapter and verse, against counting upon "the arm of man." they would find they had trusted on reeds--it would be so in regard to any foreign help, and even in regard to men of their own nation in the cape colony. during one of the interviews mr. reitz had remarked that he had a special theory in regard to the situation; but it varied from that of the president, who, in reality, was king, and whose will overcame all opposition. mr. chamberlain's policy to avert war seeing that twenty years of patient, loyal endeavours and friendly conciliatory proceedings following upon the rehabilitation of the transvaal independence had utterly failed in advancing the object of uniting the english and boer races, and that instead the existing gulf was ever widening through the spread of those fell afrikaner bond doctrines, it had become imperative, on the part of british statesmen, to employ special efforts to overcome the serious menace hanging over south africa. the critical situation designedly brought about by the action of the transvaal government and by the influence of the bond party indicated the remedy. a liberal franchise in favour of the uitlanders would at one stroke correct that evil, and counteract the other impending danger as well. with a large accession of legitimized voters working in accord with england's desire for peace and progress, that good influence would be potent, first to shackle bond action and ultimately to reduce it to colonial limits. the transvaal would then no longer be the giant ally, the arsenal, and the treasury of the afrikaner bond, and that organisation would then be checkmated into impotence for evil. the success of such a remedial and defensive measure would naturally depend upon the adequacy of the franchise aimed at. mr. chamberlain and his colleagues were not a little sanguine in expecting that a five years' qualification for voting and a representation equal to one-fifth of the total number of seats in the legislature would be effective for all that which was needed; nor could it be averred that the transvaal burghers would be swamped out thereby. the bond chiefs did not fail to at once penetrate the object when the demand for a five years' franchise was made, and in vain did sir alfred display that firm attitude and exhaust his arguments at the historic bloemfontein conference. he had pointed out to president krüger in a rudimentary fashion which was no doubt convincing enough--that it was incompatible with professions of concord and desire for peace while persisting in excluding from representation a large majority of the population accustomed to and expecting liberal treatment, and which, moreover, held four-fifths of the wealth invested in the state. there could be no other result than a dangerous tension and alienation from the government, instead of the peaceful co-operation so essential to security and progress. in these days of advanced ideas of personal and political liberty people will resist domination by a minority. they want to be consulted, and to have at least the opportunity of making their wishes known by means of representation. the right of petitioning could not meet that need, and in fact implied the recognition of an inferior status so repugnant to any one's sensibility. when people are ignored they resent even light impositions and taxes, but if allowed a voice will cheerfully submit to heavy burdens, because they then become, in a manner, self-imposed. representation is the panacea against popular disaffection and for assuring governmental stability. to concede to uitlanders one-fifth of the seats in the legislature could not operate to the prejudice of burgher interests, but less would not meet the case. it was, however, not president krüger alone who had to decide--it affected the bond as a whole. the diplomatic contest so far proved just the thing to ripen conditions for the meditated bond _coup d'état_. an alternative offer of a seven years' franchise was interposed as a mere ruse. never for a moment did the afrikaner bond leaders waver or quail in the face of resolute firmness, display of force, or even of moral pressure and notes of advice from imposing quarters, as mr. chamberlain had at first still fondly hoped. to the bond it had all resolved itself to a mere question of time, of choosing the most opportune moment when to assume the aggressive. british attitude had only hastened the issue. mr. jan hofmeyer had indeed been sent for from the cape so as to assure that section of the bond of transvaal firmness, but he found no sign of flinching or of renouncing the common object laboured for so long and then so near fruition. the only difficulty was that british action had hastened the issue somewhat too fast. hence the repeated hurried visits of the bond leaders--jan hofmeyer, abraham fisher, and others--the frequent caucus meetings of the executive in consultation with those delegates, the secret midnight sessions of the combined volksraads and executive, the prolonged telegraphic conferences between the two presidents, and the final resulting word of "ready" which preceded the fatal war ultimatum. the gordian knot had been in evidence many years ago; it is now recognised with regret that england had deferred action for cutting it much too long. but why not agree to arbitration, it will be asked, that peaceable method so strenuously appealed for by the transvaal government and advocated by her partisans, to adjust all differences, of which the suzerainty claim and the uitlander question appeared to be the principal ones? the reply is not that england was unwilling, but because the transvaal was insincere, and the request was a cover for shameless duplicity, for, while it had been declared by the former that the claim to suzerainty would be left in abeyance and that infractions of convention which had been committed by the latter would be overlooked in consideration of future friendly relations and co-operation, the transvaal government in reality never for a moment meant to be content with less than british overthrow and complete boer supremacy in south africa, and efforts and intrigues were never relaxed, in concert with the bond, to compass those objects. afrikaner bond guilt in gradations the promiscuous details and incidents, together with the circumstantial and _primâ facie_ evidence thus far adduced in arraigning the afrikaner bond combination, point mostly to conditions existent before the war broke out. we had the smoke before the conflagration--it is a wonder how people could manage to ignore the menace. now the war torch is over us in its full luridness. ordinary fires, if not kindled, originate either from accident, spontaneous combustion, or incendiarism. with war the origin may be traced to similar causes either singly or in combination, or, when we cannot hit the exact diagnosis, we explain it with a handy word and call it evolution, as we may do in the case of the present anglo-boer conflict. we may for a moment review the material and then also the agencies and incentives which operated that evolution against harmony and peace, and to which the conflagration is due. we have noted the legal acquisition of the cape colonies by great britain, the equally recognised occupation under treaties with england of the two boer republics, the english and boer races in progress of friendly assimilation and in happy prosperity all over south africa. this was essentially the position in , until it became gradually marred by an invidious element. we have further noted the declining condition of holland, its moribund language, and finally the prospects which south africa presented for that nation's restoration to powerful significance, the english factor only standing in the way. the next aspect brings out the marring manifestations: greed of land and of conquest with the pretoria-bloemfontein combination; malignant sedition in the cape colonies, urged by lust to participate more directly in the wealth of gold and diamonds in the north and to share general plunder--both categories of covetousness merged into one purulent fester by men of conceited ambition, all cemented with collusion, but the whole of it devised, engineered, and operated by the most malignant agencies from holland under the coaching of the evil one himself. the reader may be able to assess the degrees of guilt of each category--of the republican boer aspirant for land, the colonial boer rebel seeking his particular profit, the accomplices who for ambitious ends lead the first two, and the insidious hollander intriguers who seduced and actuated all in order to seize the lion's share of the spoliation. to sum up, the respective rewards which lured them all are: plunder for the boers and rebels, laurels and "fat" places for the bond leaders, and a substantial harvest for entire holland, with pæans of praise for the coterie and dr. leyds from a grateful people for successfully restoring the good fortunes of the dutch nation, and for effecting a retributive vendetta upon england, all under world-wide, gloating acclaims of gratified and vindictive jealousy. the hollander coterie may plead patriotism which pointed to the duty of using the tempting opportunity presented in south africa in saving holland from national submersion and political extinction by means of the boer nation, but against this stands the unparalleled vileness of expedients and the treacherous deceptions employed to attain that object. it involved the wholesale seduction of one section of that nation into sedition and rebellion against a most beneficent and just government under which they prospered and enjoyed the highest conceivable degree of liberty and even special privileges, and of pitting the other section into hostility and war against a power which meant nothing else than peace and amity towards them, thus placing both into a position of risk to forfeit all their prosperity, apart from the inevitable horrors of a war evoked by their rapacious and murderous hollander malice. the bond scientists in holland had fully persevered in their craftily laid programme. after having succeeded in producing race hatred between boer and english, the next step had been to convince the boer leaders and the people of the inevitableness of a contest for ensuring the supremacy of the afrikaners, coupled with the absolute necessity of the complete expulsion of the entire british element. as arguments were adduced that the british element had proved itself unassimilable and irreconcilable, its retention in south africa would necessitate continuous provisions to keep it in a state of subjection. the existence of such conditions would be inconsistent and incompatible with the true ideal liberty as intended for the whole of south africa, and which must be linked with all-round equality and fraternity. the presence of a british factor would be an unsurmountable bar to that consummation, hence the necessity of its total removal. the bond leaders are the next in guilt; with these the incentive is principally ambition, which, by degrees, became mis-shaped into a specious patriotism. it is known how an ardently desired object pursued for a long period is apt to so monopolize and infatuate the mind as to totally vitiate and pervert the sense of discernment between right and wrong, both as to the legitimacy of the object and the means to be employed for its attainment. as the realization remains deferred and the efforts are increased, the object from being considered legitimate is by degrees invested with merit, a halo of virtue is added to the aspect, its pursuit is viewed as a duty by fair or by questionable means, the end justifying the latter. all, it is said, is fair in love and warfare. this diagnosis appears particularly applicable to president krüger and state secretary f.w. reitz, both men of sincere piety (perhaps also to mr. schreiner), who would have abandoned their project and renounced and repudiated the afrikaner bond if ever they had doubted its legitimacy of principle. so also with most of the other boer leaders and their clergy too. the agencies must have been exceedingly subtle, and the jugglery and artifice superhuman, to operate such processes of reasoning, such deception and aberration in honest-minded and even godly persons. as to the bulk of the boer people, they are simply led by their chiefs and superiors, in whom they repose unquestioning confidence. they go unreasoningly with the stream of opinion under the firm belief that all is divinely sanctioned, including rebellion and violence, and blindly obey their call, considering their cause analogous to that of the jews of old, who were enjoined to spoil the egyptians and then to pass over and conquer their land of promise. no papal bull of indulgence ever freed people's consciences more than the boer people now feel in regard to the warfare in which they are engaged. rÉsumÉ the boers in the cape colonies have been prospering in a marked degree since the british accession in , enjoying ideal liberty and good government upon perfect equality with the english colonists. the people of the orange free state fared equally well under best relations with the british government up to the outbreak of the present war. in the transvaal the boers were more handicapped, being furthest removed from profitable cape connections, and having to cope with powerful hostile tribes within their border. the most redoubtable, under secoecoenie, was subdued during the british occupation in . then followed the short war of , with the voluntary retrocession and peace of january, . all appeared to progress remarkably well for about ten years after, until the irrational treatment by the boers of british subjects in the transvaal furnished the first cause of friction, and engendered at last the johannesburg crisis with the jameson incursion, followed by four years' vain attempts on the part of england to bring about satisfactory and peaceful relations. the afrikaner bond had been inaugurated some thirty years ago, under the mask of a constitutional organization, professing loyalty to england; that body had succeeded in hiding its object, which was no less than the expulsion from south africa of all that is english, and which object was brutally avowed since the outbreak of the war by declarations in the press and by incendiary speeches of colonial bond leaders and members of the cape parliament. the british government did not view very seriously the information it received regarding the bond menace until the definite action of the transvaal government partially opened its eyes prior to the johannesburg revolt. the hope was, however, still clung to in an undefined way that patience and forbearance would yet overcome boer prejudice and disperse racial antipathies, and with characteristic self-confidence as well, things were allowed to drift rather out of hand. the two republics had been _de facto_ allied some time before the johannesburg crisis in . both were then already provided with very abundant armaments of up-to-date types, with equipments and preparations far and away above any conceivable needs except indeed for a _coup d'état_ against british supremacy and to sustain a colonial revolt. on the occasion of the jameson incursion the orange free state promptly appeared near the scene with best equipped mounted boer commandoes and artillery to assist the transvaal if needed. before and some time subsequently there had been continued progress towards the assimilation of the english and boer races in south africa. this was marred by afrikaner bond doctrines and intrigues proceeding from a hollander coterie, the formula being "afrika voor de afrikaners"--the aims including the usurpation of british authority in the colonies, supremacy of the boer nation under one great republican federation, and an affiliated status with holland which should restore that people, all to the prejudice of england, to a political and economic significance and power surpassing its former epoch of european and colonial eminence. as to the incentives to the boer nation, these were principally the plunder of capital investments and land conquests, which the people had learnt to consider legitimate and in fact incumbent as a duty to themselves and descendants. the means employed in that conspiracy were a subtle, so to say, occult propaganda to seduce a simple people to false convictions, to induce the creation of gigantic armaments, a secret service employing at a vast cost journalism, emissaries, and agencies, to gain partisans and allies outside south africa, the transvaal mint to coin the sinews of war from the appropriation of the mines and their output, the dynamite factory (that bond corner-stone for manufacturing ammunition[ ]), a system of immigration from holland towards supplanting the english factor and to introduce auxiliaries. other such means were: laws for admitting auxiliaries to immediate full burgher rights and privilege to carry arms, from which uitlanders were rigorously excluded, the rabid campaign proscribing the english language and fostering high dutch instead (which was much less understood by the entire boer people, and much harder for them to learn than english). to the above list of devices came the exhaustive efforts to obtain an independent seaport for the transvaal, first at st. lucia bay, then at delagoa bay (ostensibly with a german syndicate, and since by subsidizing portugal or suborning portuguese notables and officials). the climax of duplicity is reached when it is averred that the pursuit of such an organized programme during the past twenty years and more had meant peace only, never a thought of conquest, as ambassador leyds so innocently declared after failing to gain abroad the hoped-for support for the monstrous bond enormity. the afrikaner bond leaders would have preferred the war to have been deferred a little longer--preferably to a moment when england might be embroiled elsewhere. it was also thought of importance that the transvaal should first realize the auriferous "underground rights" situated around the johannesburg mines, which government asset was expected to net at least fifty million pounds sterling. the sales had already been advertised, and were in preparation when the outbreak of the war intervened. upon the word "ready," flashed from bloemfontein, followed at once the fateful pretoria ultimatum. the proceeds of those underground rights must now come in afterwards to defray the war bill. footnotes: [footnote : president krüger's reference to that factory is well known, styling it as one of the corner-stones of boer independence.] the boers' native policy boer views regarding coloured peoples are those retained from dutch practices of a hundred and more years ago, when the cape of good hope still belonged to that nation. servitude, if not absolute slavery, was then generally recognised as the proper status for coloured aborigines, and that principle of differentiation continues to be upheld and applied in a modified form, it must be admitted, in all the colonial possessions of holland. the authority for this stand is sought from ancient biblical history, where the descendants of ham appear marked out for servitude, and from that basis it is interpreted that people so marked are not designed for tuition or evangelization until after they have been subjugated. according to such a doctrine the injunction to preach the gospel to every creature would be limited to civilized whites, and might only be extended to such coloured peoples who have been fitted, as is said, for the reception of the christian faith by being placed under the subserviency of whites, as their sponsors if not their actual masters, and requiring mundane tuition and education as essential bases to precede conversion. for the refutation of such monstrous doctrines it may be urged that, according to scripture, savage as well as cultured peoples have a consciousness of guilt towards the divine judge. the object of the gospel is to end the history of the culprit as such and to place him upon a new standing--"the wind bloweth as it listeth": a new birth operated by the acceptance of the gospel proclamation addressed to every creature, black as well as white. growth and moral amendment properly "follow" that spiritual birth; neither is conceivable before, except purely human education, which is incapable of effecting a change, and in fact tends only to fortify the natural man in his implacable hostility against the newly implanted element, each lusting against the other.[ ] history records how the spanish and other early explorers operated with the aborigines in the regions discovered by them. the territories with their inhabitants were declared possessions accruing to their respective sovereigns, whose main policy was the exploitation of all the wealth possible. the aborigines were dispossessed, treated as conquered peoples, and forced to do the exploiting labour. no other results could follow than the gradual diminution and final exhaustion of all the wealth and the partial, if not total, extinction of the aboriginal races. what retribution overtook those nations is also on record. those enslaved peoples were forced to accept the religion of their conquerors. can true converts be made to order by constraint, motives of self-interest, or by baptizing them _en bloc_? what else but deepest aversion and mistrust could a religion inspire which is professed and taught by a people who practise spoliation, murder, and other descriptions of wickedness abhorrent even to a savage mind? the aborigines would daily behold their own land and possessions enjoyed by usurpers and "would be teachers," who subjected them besides to slavery and abject misery. could the religion of such teachers ever find favour with their victims? how could doctrines of righteousness and love be understood when so glaringly violated by their preceptors? it presents a sad paradox to see that the boers, who are in many respects consistently religious and even exemplary, could uphold principles which place coloured people out of caste, not only in regard to political rights but also as to the common religious standing before the creator. it would be unjust to charge the boers with actually barbarous practices towards the natives--what they do enforce is their submission to the condition of servants. the boer people ever chafed against the restraining action of the british government as to their practice of slavery, and they have not hesitated either to exhibit their hostility to missionary enterprise. the confiscation of protestant mission sites in the orange free state is one of the instances; another was exemplified in a raid perpetrated about forty years ago by the transvaal boers upon the inoffensive bechuana tribe, whose chief and many of his people had accepted the christian faith through the teaching of moffat, david livingstone, and other evangelists. the pretext for that raid was a lying report that that bechuana chief had bartered some guns from traders to fight the boers with. the boers sent an ultimatum requiring the surrender of those weapons. despite the protestation of the chief and his people that not more than eight guns had been bartered for hunting, which had later proved true, a commando was sent against them under commandant paul krüger, now president krüger. many of the natives were slain, their villages burnt, their cattle seized, and great numbers of the tribe taken captive for distribution as servants among the boer farmers in the transvaal. that raid was further signalized by the total destruction of moffat's mission station--church, school buildings, and industrial shops. these, after being looted, were all consigned to the flames, as also the missionary dwellings, among which was that of david livingstone, with his furniture, books, and belongings. there are abundant records, besides that of the bechuana nation, that barbarous and idolatrous peoples are amenable to christianity without the prior influences of civilization or individual education, or that they should be subjugated first, as the boers would have it. what indeed is of immense aid for moral and economic advancement is the operation of civilized and liberal governmental authority, repressing slavery, under which proprietary rights and justice are equally afforded to black and white, and where the gospel might have a free course without constraint and without inducements of material advantages. it seemed that such conditions were on the eve of eventuating for the rescue and disenthralment of darkest africa. this is what moffat, livingstone, coillard, and many other devoted servants of the gospel had prayed for all their lives, what has been and still is the burden of the prayers (no doubt all inspired) of millions of christians. the interior is no more a blank on the map. much is done for the suppression of slavery. the whole continent is parcelled out among different nations, who have assumed the task of civilizing their respective spheres. the world's energy and capital stand available for the object, and it appeared that many souls were being seriously aroused to the responsibility of obeying the charge pronounced in ezekiel xxxiii. - . but sinister influences have not failed in attempts to bar beneficent dispensations. we have seen fanaticism resulting in the fierce revolt of mahdism in the north, and are now awaiting the issue of the war brought on by afrikaner bondism in the south. footnotes: [footnote : another has aptly illustrated the change by comparing such a man's new condition to a hotel that has come under totally different and perfectly new management and controlling proprietorship.] england's native and colonial policy until the earlier parts of this nineteenth century england has been conspicuous among other nations in tolerating slavery in some of her possessions, and in permitting her people to engage in systematic man-hunts, with the accompanying atrocities and horrors of a regular slave trade. manifestations of national abhorrence and condemnation of that inhuman traffic and of slavery in general appeared during the first quarter of this century. the nation hid its shame and contrition in acts towards remedying its share of the evil committed. these took the shape of expending some twenty million pounds sterling towards the emancipation of slaves and various other costly measures to repress the trade in human beings, and in proclaiming personal freedom for all slaves in her dominions. the desire to do justice to coloured races was further exemplified in the adoption, dating some fifty years back, of a totally altered colonial and native policy. up to then the practice with all colonizing powers had been to utilize their foreign dominions as preserves for financial exploitation, involving the most crying injustice to aborigines. the departure then effected consisted in a policy of just laws instead, directed to ensure to those people equitable treatment and a recognition of their rights to fixed property and to a position before the law equal with that of white inhabitants. the revenues produced by the colonies were thenceforward all to be devoted to the advancement of their own local prosperity. free trade followed that _régime_ of liberty and equity, and, as intended, such colonial dominions began to partake of the character and were constituted off-shoots of the mother country, with a like status of liberty and enjoying the benefit of british protection at the same time. many were the auguries that the experiment would result in political and economic failure, but the good results to all concerned proved to be so far-reaching as to startle even its most sanguine advocates. the extension of privileges and rights operated upon the natives as a magical incentive to labour and emulation for the improvement of their economic condition; people who had before preferred an indolent, semi-nomadic existence betook themselves more to agricultural and sedentary habits, living in much greater comfort and steadily increasing in wealth. civilization went on apace, and with it the moral improvement of the aborigines, paving the way as well for the spread of christianity. all this was accompanied with an immense and ever-advancing expansion of trade with england and the recognition of british prestige as a successful colonizing power. numerous other principalities courted the privilege of coming under the ægis of the english flag, their potentates and people readily submitting to the abolition of practices which were not in accord with humane and civilized usages and eager to share the benefits and advancement of civilization which were enjoyed under british rule. in not a few instances it was, however, not feasible to extend the protectorate so coveted. while other nations were engaged in wars during the past half-century, england had opportunities to largely expand and consolidate her colonial dominions. at the same time british trade, industries and shipping advanced with gigantic strides, and that nation has since gained the foremost rank as a commercial and colonial empire, governing over the choicest portions of the globe some four hundred millions of loyal and contented subjects, who enjoy liberty and a degree of prosperity unequalled elsewhere as yet, the whole being protected by a navy which constitutes england as champion on sea as well. all this national success and example of liberal government have had a salutary influence upon the rest of the world in evoking wholesome competition and emulation. but another and very untoward effect is that widespread and deep-rooted envy and jealousy have also been aroused, which on occasion are apt to develop into pretexts for actual hostility, or hostile partisanship as is now the case. what signalises the beneficent reign of queen victoria more than anything else is the peculiarly devoted manner in which that august lady has personally acquitted herself of her duty and responsibility in regard to the elevation and rehabilitation of the hitherto socially enslaved condition of womanhood in her indian empire; for it is well known how the philosophic religions of the east have been subtly adapted for establishing the political and social pre-eminence of certain classes of a population over its majority, at the same time dooming womanhood generally to the lowest rank of drudges, perpetual contempt and ignorance, refusing them education (as had been done in the case of the roman slaves)--specially despised if without a husband, and if a widow, immolated at last upon her husband's funeral pyre. step by step, by means of strenuous and disinterested exertions, employing prestige and encouragements, by legislation and otherwise, a breach was effected which bids fair to break down that caste-fenced and chained thraldom, and to raise over a hundred millions of her humble subject sisters from unnatural degradation to occupy the honourable and responsible rank assigned by the creator to woman as man's social help, meet for him, and to whom honour is due as to the weaker vessel. millions of women have already found emancipation and recognition of their right position, to man's reciprocal joy and to the felicity of their families. their sons and daughters in turn now form armies to complete the mission of liberty so zealously inaugurated by their beloved empress, their own peculiar star of india. maybe this and similar earnests evinced during that noble queen's reign, among which the shelter afforded to the jewish people, will come into remembrance in mitigation of visitations deserved by the nation for its previous complicity in the hideous traffic in african souls of men. it throws a light upon the credulity and simplicity of the bulk of the poor deluded peasant boers when, in the face of most genial rule and almost an excess of liberty and privileges, bond artifice could succeed in conjuring up contrary notions, and to poison them into the monstrous belief that they, the boers, were an oppressed people, whose downfall was designed by rapacious england, and that no other remedy existed for preserving independence, religion and homes than to expel that wicked english people from african soil. this is, then, what bond artifice effected in the absence of actual cause and in order to dissimulate its own nefarious objects. it was the work of twenty years' sedulously applied deception and calumnious machinations. the hollander coterie has at last succeeded in its ardently desired purpose of pitting the boer nation against england, and to bring about the present war. what is even more astounding is the success of those villainous artificers upon intelligent partisans of the boer cause outside of africa and in england even. occult operations and agencies will it be considered the mere fancy of enthusiasts, which admits the thought of occult forces of a sinister kind set in array to overturn beneficent dispensations, that the evil one, the father of lies, has been active in all this marring of peace? had that personage or evil principle, if this term is more acceptable, not scored with his malignant skill of deception , years ago, and been walking up and down his domain ever since, intent upon undoing redemptive provisions and counteracting all endeavours to ameliorate the miseries of humanity? his malice would seem discernible against the boer nation, the people who continued in the simple faith which had been kept by their ancestors despite the persecutions heaped upon them in france and by the oppressor of holland; he must have viewed with growing rage the designs of a gracious providence surrounding that very people with the blessings of security and peace and accumulations of unparalleled riches, all construable as in compensation for the sacrifices so willingly submitted to by their forefathers and for their own fidelity to the faith. would he tamely brook that--and not bend on all his artifices to reverse those provisions and to divert those rich dispensations in favour of his own devotees instead, or else rather cause them to be devoured by wasting war? he has so far succeeded in instigating the boer nation to acts which involve the forfeiture of their special heirlooms. he would also thwart the programme of the world's nations for the civilization of central africa, and would gratify his malice against the people to whom is largely attributable the spread of governmental principles of equity and liberty. he would seek to stamp with failure those hitherto successful and self-rewarding methods, and so strike an effective blow against their further adoption as being goody-goody, weak and inefficient. we see civilized humanity congested with over-population, excess of energy and of production and suffering from a plethora of capital, the entire condition rife on the one hand with prodigal waste and on the other fraught with the cruel want of toiling and jostling millions vainly fighting for space and the most modest means of existence--conditions which presage an inevitable and universal crash unless checked by a malthusian or else by a beneficent and humane remedy. we know the right remedy for at least staving off the impending universal crisis lies in the manifold opportunities of creating outlets. these exist to the full in the vast fallow regions of africa, and in the scope for industries and commerce in asia and elsewhere. each well-devised colonizing scheme, every railway built, and every other new investment would afford improved employment and relieve the general strain; every true convert gained by the spread of christianity would become an obedient and reliable unit towards the menaced stability of authorized governments. we see capital impelled to vast enterprises, as it were by secret forces;[ ] we are aware of the activity of nations singly and in co-operation in promoting and sustaining such projects. all those efforts and outlets would serve as safety-valves for the discontent of the ill-provided masses, and their success would render them governable at a lesser cost, and even admit the reduction of standing armies and other objects treated by the recent peace conference at the hague. the essential thing, indeed, is peace, and that in turn would consolidate security and progress. but the enemy is interested exactly the other way. his ascendancy is coincident, not with the mitigation of the conditions of human existence, but in accentuating the misery of the masses, driving them to desperation and to embrace illogic and deceptive maxims of socialism and violent anarchy. it is with those forces that he intends to uproot and usurp divinely instituted authority expressly set up to repress evil and to protect person and property. he wants by licence and not liberty to hasten the advent of that murderous political power prophetically depicted with the statue standing upon feet of clay and iron: supreme authority vested in the world's proletariat in unstable and uncohesive union with militarism, satan himself the actual lawless animator.[ ] as to the scope for outlets in the east, it is more restricted to industries and commerce, but those enterprises, however brilliantly promising, are fraught with the risks incidental to hostile rivalries and political complications, while in africa the openings are at least as vast and inviting immigration on a huge scale as well, but all with much greater security, inasmuch as the spheres of operation are definitely apportioned to various nations, and where in the nature of things the success of each would be promoted by joint-solidarity, and thus afford a guarantee for the peaceable and prosperous development of the whole continent. our common enemy would fain frustrate it all with his afrikaner bond device, and then finally gloat over the accomplished ruin of his deluded boer victims. africa has for some thousands of years been the enemy's favourite and undisturbed haunt for his gory orgies, for the hecatombs of millions of immolated victims each year, the teeming recruiting preserve for his contingents. is he likely to surrender it all to an invading beneficent operation? will he not rather continue a most determined and desperate resistance and oppose the most advanced of his subtle devices? the malignant power of his agencies is ever and anon manifest--if restrained in one direction his sway is doubly asserted in another. while the boer war is proceeding a diversion upon a large scale is being effected in asia which may result in deferring progress in africa, or history may be brought to repeat itself by the production of some african attila or grenseric or a saladin or another moselikatse or mahdi, whose overrunning hordes will efface all the good work thus far done and restore conditions in accord with his murderous sway, whilst at the same time revelling over the ominous developments looming in europe and america for the production of giant strikes and other imminent socialistic outbursts which could all be prevented, or at least staved off for a long time, if the existing immense spheres for civilizing outlets could only be peaceably utilized. footnotes: [footnote : one of those enterprises is the railway which is to connect the cape with cairo.] [footnote : pro-boer propaganda is persisting in designating england as answering to that prophetic image destined to signal destruction.] religion the old voortrekkers who emigrated from the cape colony all belonged to the dutch reformed protestant persuasion. with very little learning, the bible, catechism, and the orthodox "psalm and hymn-book" constituted their sole means for building up their faith. the scope of their education was likewise limited to these simple aids during their chequered wanderings for nearly twenty years, proving ample, however, in preserving themselves and children from the tendencies of receding into barbarism. the bible was the recognised reference and guide in private and public affairs, and it is so still. it is, indeed, notable with what wisdom and prudence those simple people managed to frame their treaties with native potentates, their conventions with the portuguese and the british governments, and, finally, in compiling their own constitutions. their experiences teem with incidents of extreme sufferings, dangers, and reverses, and also with many signal deliverances, which all operated in deepening religious fervour and dependence upon the almighty. their vicissitudes led them to make analogous comparisons with ancient jewish history. this practice resulted in some erroneous conceptions, notably in regard to their relations with aborigines and general native policy, as referred to in previous chapters. it also imperceptibly fostered sentiments confounding legality with grace, and the by-product of that subtle corrupting leaven which is apt to see a splint in the eye of another whilst unmindful of the beam in one's own. upon the whole, the religious status of the boers may be fairly compared to that of the old american pilgrim fathers, only much less intolerant, fairly strict sabbatarians, and jealous in maintaining national and individual morality. about forty years ago a small group seceded from the dutch reformed church and formed a separate connection under the name of "enkel gereformende kerk" (simply reformed church), more generally known under the sobriquet of "doppers." this cult is identical with the parent church, and differs only in a somewhat stricter church discipline and the rejection of the hymns from the common psalm and hymn-book upon the ground that many of them are tainted with dangerously anti-scriptural doctrine.[ ] these doppers are really very worthy people, but noted for their strong conservatism and adherence to old habits and customs, even in the matter of dress. president krüger is one of their prominent members and so is general piet cronjé. the devotional habits of the boers form one of their national characteristics. the family collect at dawn for morning worship, led by the parent or else by the tutor--it consists of a hymn, scripture-reading, and prayer--similarly before retiring at night, devout grace before and after each meal. these practices are not relaxed when travelling with their wagons or when in the field. on sundays an extra (forenoon) service is added. strangers and travellers receiving hospitality are always courteously and unostentatiously admitted to those family devotions. one may thus meet with one or more wagons camped in the wilderness and find a cluster of men, women, and children engaged in happy devotions and singing psalms or hymns in the familiar old "herrenhut" melodies, or one may come upon a scene where men just returned to camp, begrimed and still perspiring from a day's hunt or battle, join with husky voices an already assembled group in the customary service. such practices of piety cannot fail to have a salutary effect upon the young, nor can it be with justice said that the bulk of the people are inconsistent in their conduct, though formality and insincerity are sadly frequent enough, and in late years a decadence in seriousness and an increase of frivolity instead have marked the present epoch, especially among those who are exposed to the pernicious influences and contaminations incidental to town life. the old free stater mentioned before expressed the expectation that the present war and trials will tend to check that declension, and in that way prove to have a compensating character for good. during my frequent travels it had been my privilege as a guest to make the acquaintance of numerous truly christian boer families, both well-to-do and poor. on one occasion i had to accept the hospitality at a farmhouse of one named brits,[ ] nicknamed "vuil" or dirty brits. this was an old blind widower; his household was composed, besides himself, of an old brother, also a widower, and the family of a son-in-law. after the evening meal the service was led by the blind man, the daughter reading some chapters in the bible indicated by him. the two old men and i occupied separate cots in one small side room. happening to wake up at dawn the following morning, i saw those old men sit up facing each other, with their feet upon the floor, and begin their morning hymn of praise, after which the house resounded with younger voices from the other end with a similar song. i do not call to mind any special untidiness at that poor blind man's house to warrant his sobriquet; my recollections are, on the contrary, of the happiest, and i mentally called him clean brits, clean every whit. in another part of the country i was privileged to meet with a family, which included a grown-up blind daughter,' who had st. john's gospel in raised letters. while reading with her fingers her upturned face would shine with joy when repeating some of the salient, consoling, and sustaining verses. and how common are the records among those simple boers of happy and triumphant death-bed scenes of old and young, softening the grief of the bereaved believers. frivolous education and advanced surroundings are accountable for a certain waning of the original habits of serious piety; this is to some extent more the case among the cape colonial and orange free state boers, the declension appearing greatest with those residing in or in close proximity to towns. among the men of exemplary and consistent piety in the transvaal are conspicuous: president krüger, state secretary reitz, commandant-general joubert, general piet cronjé, and others holding highest positions, and also many of the volksraad members, including the late general kock. upon the occasion when the transvaal executive, with the assembled volksraads, finally determined upon war, and the momentous matter had been considered of handing over the passports to mr. greene, the british agent, just before signing them, president krüger was observed occupied in silent prayer for a few moments, while many of the others bowed their heads similarly engaged, after which the documents were firmly completed. when the first commandoes were about to depart for the field, the president addressed a farewell to the burghers, assuring them that god's aid could confidently be implored for their just cause; he also quoted part of the verse, "whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it," intending it as an exhortation for the timorous, warning them of the greater danger incurred by retreat or flight than when maintaining a manful stand. (the reader will know that the above quotation does not complete the verse, the rest being, "but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake or for the gospel shall preserve it.") it points to the operation of most persevering and subtle agencies and potent illusions that could mislead and carry away the chief men and the most intelligent of the boer nation so far as to engender the erroneous convictions which caused them to court the present war and to consider it just. as to the bulk of the people, they are in turn led astray by their leaders' example and opinions as victims of the general delusion. these convictions, together with the acceptance of afrikaner bond doctrines, have developed into quite a national infatuation, a kind of boer koran, invested with similar fanaticism. analogies are assumed as existing between the case of the israelites brought by moses through the wilderness, and led by joshua into the conquered possession of their promised canaan. following those prototypes, paul krüger is held as having guided the boer nation thus far through the mazes of political troubles, and so also is general joubert,[ ] now their leader in the conquest, south africa in its entirety being considered as rightfully belonging to them. the orange river stands for jordan, dividing as yet the possessions of the people, and the analogy only needs completion by a pisgah for president krüger. that such hallucinations have taken deep root appears from the fact that the wife of president krüger dreamt of the accomplishment of such a typical history, and that her husband had died at an early stage of the conquest. such complete faith is attached to the prophetic import of that dream that the president was prevailed upon to permit its publication in full detail some time in november last. the president's death was anticipated within two months after. (i am far from referring to those incidents in a mocking mood, but rather to show the intense sincerity of boer convictions, confounding the christian's exalted calling with one which is temporal; and i fancy that those very boers, if equally well instructed, might sadly eclipse some of us who have the privilege and also the responsibility of enjoying correct teaching.) the writer has endeavoured to represent in a true light both the character of the boer nation and its responsibility in regard to the origin of the present deplorable war. the reader will be able to judge whether that people is wilfully guilty, or whether the circumstances admit of generous, mitigating condonement, always considered apart from that horrible hollander element which has been the root and instigating cause of all the evil. footnotes: [footnote : some readers will recognise the significance, the protective competence, the keen and reliable instinct which enable untutored believers to discern and detect doctrinal leaven insidiously concealed in the garb of worship.] [footnote : at modder river, on the road between bloemfontein and kimberley.] [footnote : at the time, december, , when this was intended for publication.] physique and habits we have noted in former pages that the boers' ancestry some two centuries ago was composed of about two-thirds of sturdy dutch peasants, artizans, etc., while the other third consisted mostly of french huguenots. it is known that the immigrant class, though generally somewhat poor, are uniformly men and women endowed with an adventurous, self-reliant spirit and with unimpaired health. naturally none but robust persons were permitted to join the dutch settlement at the cape of good hope. we see in that combination the patient, resolute quality prevailing in holland and the more ardent, vivacious, and chivalrous character found with the french people. the huguenot refugees belonged undisputably to the cream of that impulsive nation--intellectual, educated, and fearless--whilst both portions were pervaded with deep-rooted religious fervour and habituated to moral and temperate lives. those combined qualities and habits would naturally be transmitted to the progeny; prosperity and splendid climatic conditions tended still further to develop a virile physique of first order. the moral and physical standards were maintained by the practice of men and women marrying early in life, and by occupations which required the people to pass most of their time in the open. educationally, there was unavoidably some retrogression, but there is always plenty of scope in the existence of colonists in a new country for the exercise of a vigorous mind in the study of nature, in overcoming difficulties and in cultivating the faculty of resourcefulness. whilst missing the intellectual benefits of advanced civilization, the people escaped the dangers of its vitiating tendencies, thus preserving a healthy mental calibre as well as robust physical health. in addition may be mentioned a very notable fecundal power, which accounts for the phenomenally rapid increase of the people. all those conditions have continued to be maintained with the successive generations up to now. those who joined in the exodus north of the orange river in and the years following comprised the most indomitable and best endowed of that stalwart race. twenty years of a nomadic life after that and until they got somewhat settled down served to weed out the weaklings among them; since then their mode of life accorded well to keep up the highest physical standard, not pampered with many comforts, inured to hardships and to out-of-door exercise, with a diet consisting very largely of meat and venison, coupled with energetic exercise of mind and body (the women sharing in the less arduous duties). all this constituted a regimen and training which did not fail to keep the people in a constant condition of high efficiency and equipoise for the performance of tasks and for surmounting difficulties needing more than usual strength, endurance, and fortitude. the rough labour all over south africa is done mostly by kaffirs and other coloured people. a boer farmer will have from two to ten or more kaffirs (men and women) employed for out-of-door work and for domestic drudgery. often absent from home on hunting trips and sometimes on commando, the men entrust their work on such occasions (as is now the case during the present war) to the care of their wives and daughters, assisted by some younger sons, if the family includes any, or else simply with the aid of kaffir servants. sometimes they are without any such help, when they take a pride in doing it alone. girls as well as boys learn to ride on horseback when quite young. it is quite a usual thing to see women riding astride fashion, collecting sheep and cattle, or driving their horse carts and spiders (carriages), unattended by males, over distances of over twenty and thirty miles--women spanning in ox-teams to their travelling wagons, driving them with long whips on journeys occupying one or more days. during the kaffir wars the boers used to trek (travel) in bodies with their wagons, which would serve to form a laager or fort, their families and belongings being placed in the centre. during an attack the women would attend to the men's wants, reload their rifles, and even take a more active part in repelling the enemy, many of them being also crack shots. the above-stated efficient and hardy habits with men and women apply more to the people in the two republics, and particularly so to those of the transvaal, while the colonial boers on the whole have had no such experience, but instead have lived in uninterrupted peace and comfort for generations, and may be classed with farmers of any other well-governed and protected country or colony. the boer farmers in the northern portions of the cape colony, however, approximate to those of the orange free state in hardy habits and ability to fend for themselves when in difficulty. but with the transvaal boers the training incident to wars, hunting, and nomadic movements has been more sustained, and they are thus in best form and fitness of efficiency compared with all the rest. in the orange free state nearly every man above fifty years of age has had the experience of the three years' basuto war in - , and almost all above forty are very expert huntsmen and crack shots. quite a good number have also taken part in the transvaal war against the english in ; the rest have been trained by the elder veterans, and, though not so well seasoned, are good horsemen, expert with the rifle, and competent in the field. as to the transvaalers, the men have all had plenty of field practice before the previous war with england and since, in subduing formidable kaffir rebellions, the last being the operations against the magato chief, which terminated just before the outbreak of the present anglo-boer war. besides this, game had continued longer in abundance in the transvaal, and is still hunted with success in the northern low veldt and in the adjacent portuguese territory. added to this, the young boers in the cape colony, natal, orange free state, and transvaal have been encouraged to attain proficiency in rifle practice and competence in the field, ostensibly for the gratification of keeping up old traditions, but in reality to be prepared for the struggle against england meditated by the afrikaner bond. about thirty odd years ago the orange free state and transvaal were still swarming with all sorts of game. venison was the staple diet. lions and leopards also infested those states, but these and the game have been pretty well extirpated since, except in some of the lower parts of the transvaal. in the earlier days ammunition was costly and hard to procure, and the use had to be husbanded accordingly. it became thus a practice never to pull a trigger unless with intense aim and the certainty of an effective shot. a man would go out stalking for an hour or so with perhaps but one or two charges, and would rarely fail in bringing home the kind of game wanted--either a springbock, blesbock, or wildebeest (gnu). in hunting lions, the lads would form part of the company for the purpose of being taught. the boys would learn that if a lion meant to attack he would approach to within twenty or thirty yards, and then straighten himself up before making the final charge. it was during that short halt that the disabling or killing shot would have to be delivered. father and son would then be standing ready--the son to fire first; if unsuccessful, the animal would be brought down by the father. if there were a larger party and the lions numerous, the lessons would be learnt so much better by way of emulation. the boys soon realized that a lion, means business only when he advances silently and with smoothed gait, but that bristling up and roaring is a sure prelude to his skulking off. what we read of the terror-inspiring roar is to the boer stripling pure romance and non-sense; but what he does realize is that he must hit the animal in a vital spot at the right moment or else run the risk of being clawed and bitten. the confidence, however, which he has in his gun gives him all the requisite nerve, and mishaps are of very rare occurrence. those lion hunts used to be very profitable, not only for the valuable skins, but especially when a number of young cubs were also caught, which would realize considerably high prices from menagerie purveyors. at the age of about eight years a boy would be taught to ride on horseback; when twelve years old he would be an expert horseman and a deadly rifle shot as well; at sixteen he would be able to perform all farm duties and rank with pride and confidence as an efficient burgher to take the field against any enemy. his brain is not addled with school lore, but is thoroughly versed and taught from nature's book. hardened to the fatigue of long rides over unfamiliar country in search of stray cattle, the boer youth has often to subsist upon a bit of dried biltong (junked beef or venison), endure at intervals scorching heat and drenching rains, swim rivers, and pass the night with a stone for a pillow and his saddle as the only shelter, while his horse, securely hobbled, feeds upon the grass around. never will he lose his way; if landmarks fail him and clouds hide moon and stars, he is guided by wind, the run of water or his horse's instincts. accustomed to wide horizons, he can promptly distinguish objects at a distance, which, to an ordinarily good eyesight, would need careful scanning through a field-glass. he is expert in finding and following any trail, and can promptly tell the imprint from whatever animal it might be, or of whatever human origin; an ideal scout and unsurpassed as a pioneer. when travelling over roadless country the boer's instinct will direct him in tracing the most practicable route for his wagons, and with his experience he can foretell what kind of topography he will in succession have to traverse, avoiding unnegotiable spots and unnecessary detours, and when about to halt, a surveying gaze will locate the safest and most suitable position for his temporary camp. such capacities serve with obvious advantage in defensive and offensive war tactics. prompt in seizing an advantage and in avoiding danger, he has also learnt to be an adept in ruses to decoy and mislead an enemy, and as for self-help and resourcefulness, there is hardly a situation or difficulty conceivable which will not be successfully surmounted. the usual boer can also fend for himself and cope with the minor perplexities of every-day life in the field, which would strand a less initiated man. he can cook, bake bread, mend clothes, make boots, repair saddles, harness, and vehicles, and is full of expedients and able to make shift. most of them know how to shoe their horses, whilst many of them are expert also in working wood and metals and similar handicrafts. in short, the boers make ideal scouts and are unique as colonizing pioneers. in their nomadic wanderings and frequent wars, the boers have gained much useful experience in tactics, strategy, and in the wiles of diplomacy too. they also learnt to adopt methods of organization, of cohesion, combined action, and a certain amount of discipline among themselves. they elect as subordinate and chief leaders men whose abilities and influence have commended them for such responsible appointments. before committing themselves to any very important step these leaders would first confer with the people, who in turn would generally be easily swayed to their opinions, and who found by experience that it was safest to follow their judgment. it thus also became a habit to leave the main thinking over to those leaders, which enhanced unanimity and led to a self-imposed obedience and discipline recognised as necessary for the common welfare and also indispensable for common safety. so prevalent had the practice become of deferring to the opinions of their leaders that it engendered an apathy among the people against considering political and public matters which were not altogether of engrossing importance. public meetings would be poorly attended, and at elections not half the votes were recorded. "let the elected heads see to it; they are paid for doing the controlling and thinking work"--that used to be the general feeling. but during the past twenty years public interest has by degrees been successfully aroused by the activities of the afrikaner bond; the former apathy and distaste to the consideration of public concerns have given place to a more lively identification even with politics, but the tendency of being swayed by men of influence of their own kind remains unchanged. the boers are great smokers--tobacco appears to have no hurtful effects whatever upon them, but seems rather to serve as a grateful sedative. the first thing offered on meeting a boer is his tobacco pouch, and if one is a guest at his house, this is followed by one or more cups of coffee. this is drunk by men and women in large quantities, often without sugar, but very weak. the people are justly famed for cordial hospitality to strangers, and the pleasing tact and unostentatious correct politeness met with from the most ordinary and uneducated boer are only accountable for on the theory that that particular culture of manners has been transmitted from his noble french ancestry of a couple of hundred years ago. in stature the men near the average of six feet (say five feet ten inches)--full-bearded, brawny-limbed, and of stalwart build, suggesting a homeric capacity for aggression and resistance. they present a standard of sturdy and active manhood, which would have delighted the critical eye of frederick the great for the formation of his very best regiments. what is really singular is the infinitesimally small proportion of ineffective and sickly men found left behind when all the commandoes are called out, and also the considerable number of hale old men above sixty who voluntarily join the field. and when the hardy training and general high efficiency are considered down to the youth of sixteen, one may estimate the formidableness of such a foe, all well mounted on tough and nimble horses, well provisioned and provided with the best weapons extant, guided by very competent chiefs and european advisers--withal self-reliant and conscious of a superior aggressive and defensive capability for repeating their splendid ancestral records of prowess. add to this inbred patriotism stimulated to an enthusiasm approaching fanaticism by a mind fashioned to the belief that their war is against an unjust usurper destined to be overthrown; it all sums up a long way towards balancing numerical inferiority and inexperience in the science of modern warfare. as to military science, they are apt to become quickly tutored into proficiency by daily observation and experience, and by the coaching of the numerous military officers who have joined their ranks. another advantage upon the boer side consists in complete acclimatization and perfect knowledge of the country. lastly, but by no means less important, is the rational practice of always going as light and unencumbered as at all possible, preferably with stripped saddle, and to subsist mostly upon meat when in the field, both serving to enhance staying power and to provide a reserve of stamina and of energy for occasions of supreme effort, which often decide the fate of battle against combatants, however courageous, who are fagged out with marching on foot, and through being overladen with accoutrements and pack and a lumbersome diet as well. what can such panting, unsteadied men do in conflict with boers who are fresh and in well-preserved form, and whose steady sharp-shooting simply results in calvaries for their opponents, however brave, disciplined and well equipped they may be? yet to be noted is the small commissariat needed for boer horses and mules. these are accustomed to subsist altogether on grass, and when it is plentiful, during summer and fall, to keep in good condition, working six to ten hours daily, if only allowed to graze during the rest of the time. they are then usually knee-haltered, _i.e._, one foreleg tied to the halter, with about eighteen inches space between. a few feeds of dry mealies (maize) will be amply supplementary when the pasture is inferior, or if the animals have to be picketed much. as said before, alcoholism does not prevail among the boers, and any tendency to it is sedulously checked by legislation and public reprobation. president krüger is an absolute abstainer from intoxicants, and even at banquets he will sip water only when joining in a toast. his contention is that the effects generally go beyond a harmlessly exhilarating point; the action of alcohol unbalances the nervous equilibrium, producing in most cases an excitement above the normal level, followed by a corresponding depressive reaction below it, creating an appetite for repeating the potation, with exactly similar and progressively aggravated results. then man's moral standard and general efficiency and dignity become impaired, to the serious damage of his own welfare and involving the common weal as well. when at the outbreak of the war the sale of intoxicants became totally prohibited the measure was received with willing submission and hailed with general approval, which speaks volumes for the burgher population and without doubt also tends to preserve their efficiency and stamina. president krÜger stephanus johannes paulus krüger is about the most accessible president on record. every morning--except sundays and holidays, after family worship, that is to say, from . in summer and in winter to o'clock--he gives audience to boer and uitlander, rich or poor alike, and also on each afternoon, from to and even later. his residence in the west end of church street, pretoria, is quite an ordinary modest building of the bungalow type. the only distinction observable is two crouching lion figures, life size, on pedestals about three feet high, at the balustrade entrance to the front verandah. a lawn of about thirty feet across extends to the street limit, where at a very unpretentious gate two armed burgher guards are constantly stationed. these will receive an intending visitor's name, an unarmed domestic guard will then come forward, who, after a short scrutiny, if the person is a stranger, will report to the president and will immediately return to conduct you to that dignitary, who may be sitting under the front verandah or in the adjoining reception-room. there the president will readily shake hands and point to a chair, rather near by because he is slightly hard of hearing, the domestic guard standing or sitting between, but a good way back. by his questions and final remarks one feels assured that the topic introduced has been attentively listened to and fully grasped. while conversing, other audience-seekers would drop in, and, while waiting their turn, coffee would usually be served to all. the manners observed are devoid of any stiffness of etiquette, but rather marked with a cordial decorum approaching intimacy, most assuring to the simplest and humblest visitor. the only leisure the president enjoys is the interval from to , between his official labours at the government buildings, which are about half a mile distant from his house. he drives there and back in a modest carriage attended by a guard of mounted policemen. his honour is invariably dressed in black cloth, with the usual tall silk hat. six feet high, with a slight stoop, broad shouldered, deep-chested, with well-developed limbs, arms rather long, the president presents a stately, burly figure, portly without obesity. when younger he was noted, as something like a ulysses, for personal strength and prowess as well as for sagacity. although seventy-five years old now, mr. krüger has still a remarkably hale bearing and an intellect of undiminished quality. his eyesight, however, has been suffering of late, rendering the attendance of an oculist necessary. his honour is in his fifth term of presidency, and has held the office twenty-two years. his salary is £ , per annum, of which he probably does not expend £ , , his habits being exceedingly simple and frugal, mrs. krüger being equally conservative and thrifty, preferring rather to expend money for her children and in unostentatious benevolence than in superfluities. president krüger is an exemplary christian, an earnest student of the bible since his youth, ever ready to employ his gifts to strengthen the faith of his people and to maintain their religious standard. he often occupies the pulpit, and on other occasions gives exhorting discourses. upon the completion of the imposing johannesburg synagogue his honour was requested to preside at its dedication. it was an impressive function, and withal so anomalous and unrabbinical a departure--the head of the state, a devout christian, opening the edifice for jewish worship and addressing a discourse to the thousands of assembled israelites. in his zeal and concern mr. krüger could not refrain from adverting to their blessed messiah, the god-man of jewish stock, rejected through ignorance by their forefathers, exalted since, but who loved his people nevertheless, as typified by joseph's narrative when he revealed himself to his brethren in egypt. he adjured them to a prayerful reading of their old testament, and he invoked god's mercy to remove the veil which obscured from their eyes their own and also the gentiles' glorious immanuel. the ceremony was concluded with perfect decorum, despite the surprise that the address had drifted into an impassioned gospel sermon. this grand old boer is the very personification of noble patriotism and devoted concern for the welfare of his nation. while admiring and loving the man, what sorrow on the one side and indignant execration on the other do not overwhelm one, seeing that such a pattern and leader of men should have become the victim of that heartless hollander coterie! one cannot but marvel at the same time at the alert skill and wily patience which must have been employed during the many years past to hold president krüger with state secretary keitz and president steyn in the afrikaner bond leash ready to let loose with unshaken convictions upon the supreme contest designed for them and their people by the machinations intended for upraising holland at the risk of immolating the victimized boer nation. peace adjustments upon this topic a few remarks may be placed under the assumption that the arch enemy's triumph in the present war will be circumscribed by the havoc and the bereavements created by it, and by the forfeiture inflicted upon the poor deluded boers of their special heirlooms. one of the considerations would be the war cost and its recoupment, and another important one is the measures needful to prevent a repetition of a bond revolt. as to the war indemnity: it is well understood on all hands that the supremacy of great britain, when once established as the result of the war, will greatly enhance the value of all existing capital investments-- to per cent., and many even per cent. it is not to be denied that capitalism has evinced decided eagerness that english supremacy should be asserted, and it is in a manner amenable together with the afrikaner bond, for secretly striving to bring about the contest each independently in its own way, but without the least concert with each other. it appears therefore equitable that capital should become contributable to the cost of the war which will eventually result in so largely enhancing its invested values. a tax of - / per cent. upon the aggregate investment values and a royalty upon the mining industries of per cent. of the net profits would appear reasonable. the - / per cent. tax might bring a sum of ....... millions the royalty could be reckoned at capitalized value ............................................ " the confiscations might reach ...................... " and the underground rights around the johannesburg mines might realize .............................. " thus together millions, possibly not sufficient to cover the entire war cost if pensions are to be included. it is a sad reflection to note that the entire wealth which constituted the national heirloom of the transvaal will have been wasted, and comes far short to cover the actual war expenditure. in regard to preventive measures against another bond war, nothing appears clearer than the necessity of applying the _lex talionis_ upon the hollander element in south africa (though not in that inhuman fashion as was practised upon the english refugees before and at the commencement of the war). whilst not so guilty to the same extent of enormity as the coterie in holland, who devised all the bond mischief at a safe distance, the hollanders in south africa were nevertheless their eager abettors and sedulous henchmen. it will be remembered that the bond cry had been "drive the english into the sea, out of africa," and that the first earnest in carrying out that fiat was practised some months before the outbreak of the war upon the unaggressive coloured british subjects, traders, merchants, etc., whose removal from their residences and businesses to ghettos outside the towns practically compassed their ruin and expulsion from the transvaal. this was followed, first by a voluntary and afterwards by the forced exodus of uitlanders at the rate of thousands per day--men, women, and children packed in uncleansed coal and cattle trucks, together with coolies, kaffirs, and hottentots, and hustled over the portuguese border, dumped down at that death-trap komati poort if unable to pay the railway fare for fifty-three miles further to delagoa bay. those refugees were obliged to abandon or sacrifice their belongings--they had no time allowed to realize them; it meant their financial ruin. that hollander element comprises the most insidious menace, and, like a cancer, must be unsparingly excised from south africa, unless encouragement is intended to be given for an attempt to go one better next time, with a repetition, or rather an aggravation, of the horrors of war and the cost in life and treasure, turning the sub-continent into a second vast algeria, with perhaps such another "abd el kadr" to subdue, and without any reserve asset, as now, to fall back upon towards reimbursing the expense. their expulsion should, however, not be effected without giving some fair notice affording them time for the realization of their estates. as to the dutch language, it will not entail any excessive hardship if it is equally banished as an official language, seeing that english is on the whole not more unfamiliar to the bulk of the boer people than pure high dutch is, and seeing that the dual right was accorded to dutch as an official language under this almost inconceivable feature, that it admittedly had yet to be learnt to become of any practical use or utility other than as an instrument for keeping the races apart and to facilitate the bond objects of usurpation and revolt. finis aletta, by bertram mitford. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ aletta, by bertram mitford. chapter one. book i--the transvaal emissary. the delegate from pretoria was in full blast. the long room was packed full--full of male boers of all ages: that is to say, from those in earliest manhood to the white-bearded great-grandfathers of the community--boers of every type, boers hairy, boers shaven, moleskin-clad and collarless boers, and boers got up with near approach to european neatness; boers small, dark, and wiry, still, after generations, preserving the outward characteristics of their huguenot and french ancestry; boers tall, large-limbed, fair, of saxon aspect and descent. what sitting accommodation the room held was absorbed by the older of those present, for the patriarchal tradition is very strong among that old-world and conservative race. the residue stood in a closely packed mass, literally hanging on the words of the orator. the latter was a tall, elderly man, all fire and energy both as to speech and words. his face, strong and bronzed and lined, was of the roman type, and the brown of his short beard was just beginning to show threads of grey. standing there in his suit of black broadcloth, his sinewy figure seemed hardly in keeping with such attire. it seemed to demand the easier and more picturesque hunting costume of the veldt. andries erasmus botma was his name, and he ranked among his fellow-countrymen as a "patriot," second to none as deserving their closest attention and deepest veneration. on the table before him stood two lighted candles, throwing out the lines of his strong, rugged countenance, and between them a ponderous dutch bible, upon the closed cover of which one great hand constantly rested. on one side of him sat "mynheer," as the local _predikant_, or minister, is commonly known among his flock; on the other jan marthinus grobbelaar--or swaart jan, as he was popularly termed--the owner of the farm on which the gathering was taking place. the minister was a puffy, consequential-looking man, with long, shaven upper lip and a light beard cut after the pattern of that worn by the world-famed president, a white tie, reaching nearly from shoulder to shoulder, standing aggressively forth from the clerical black. the farmer was a wizened individual, with a pronounced stoop, and, at first sight, of retiring temperament; but a long nose and deep-set eyes, together with two teeth projecting tusk-like from each corner of the mouth out upon a lank, grizzled beard, imparted to him an utterly knowing and foxy aspect, in keeping with the reputation "swaart jan" actually held among his kinsfolk and acquaintance. the delegate from pretoria was in full blast. the meeting, which had opened with long prayer by the _predikant_ and a long speech of introduction and welcome from swaart jan grobbelaar, was now just beginning to become of intense interest--to the meeting itself. beginning far back, with the insurrection under adrian van jaarsveldt and the capitulation of the cape by general janssens, the orator had hitherto been rather academical. even the emancipation of the slaves, with its wholly farcical system of compensation, did not appeal over much to a younger generation, to whom it was all ancient history of rather too ancient date. but when he came to the slagter's nek tragedy, he had got his finger on a chord that would never cease to vibrate. the tense attitude of his listeners was that of one mind, of one understanding. "brothers," he went on. "brothers--and sons--for many are here to-night who are the men of the future--the men of the very near future--to whom the one long life-struggle of their fathers in days of old is but a name; to whom, however, the righting of the wrongs of their fathers is bequeathed; to whom life--yea, even life itself, has been given and allowed by the lord above that they may carry out the solemn bequest of righteous vengeance which their fathers have handed down to them; that they may have ever before them, ever in their thoughts, the deliverance of this their dear land, their splendid fatherland, from the hated english yoke. you then--you younger men especially--stand up day by day and bless god for the noble privilege which is yours, the privilege of the patriot, of the man who sacrifices all, worldly possessions, even life itself, for the sake of his beloved fatherland. not many days since i stood upon that spot, that holy ground, where five of your fathers were cruelly done to death for no other crime than repudiating the rule of a bloody-minded king, an english king who was not their king, whose sovereignty they had never owned. there they were hung up to the infamous gallows where they died the most ignominious of deaths, with every circumstance of barbarity which could have been practised by the savage heathen against whom they have ever striven. standing upon that spot i could see the whole of it again. i could see those five men hauled beneath the english gallows-tree, i could see the brave and noble fortitude wherewith they went to their death. i could see the weeping crowd of their fellow-countrymen--of our fellow-countrymen--and women-- gathered to witness their sufferings. and the five patriots--the five martyrs--were dragged up by ropes to their doom. but, brothers, god intervened. heaven intervened. even as the lions' mouths were shut to daniel--as the fiery furnace kindled by the idolatrous king passed over the three servants of god unhurt--even so heaven intervened to render the slaughter instruments of the cruel english king of no effect. the apparatus of death gave way, and the five patriot martyrs fell to the earth unharmed. what then? what then, sons and descendants of those great ones? did the english recognise the hand of god? did they recognise that even their puny mockery of justice had to bow before the manifestation of his will? they did not. in the face of the tears and supplications and bitter grief of those who beheld; of those in whose veins ran the blood of the martyred men, those five patriots were once more put through the bitterness of death. this time heaven did not intervene. and why? in order that the death agonies of those tortured patriots should be held in remembrance; that they should be ever before the eyes of their descendants as an earnest of the death agonies of the hated and hateful race which was their oppressor and is ours. brothers, i stood upon that ground, that very spot, that holy ground, and i prayed and gained strength that i might fulfil the purpose for which i am here. slagter's nek! the infamous name which was given to that holy spot has gone down to generations in its infamy, and ever will. is there here a bezuidenhout, is there a meyer, is there a faber, is there a snyman-- yea, and i could name a score of others, a hundred others, a thousand others--in the veins of whom runs the blood of the patriot martyrs? let them not forget the english butchery of slagter's nek; then, when their rifles are pointing straight, let their watchword be `slagter's nek'!" the speaker paused. utterly carried away by his own feeling; his whole frame was in a quiver. his eyes were flashing, and the sinews of his great hand resting upon the holy volume leapt out into knots. the _predikant_, seated at his right, poured out a glass of water from an earthenware carafe on the table, and thrust it into his hand, and he swallowed the contents as with an effort, and in choking gulps. the effect upon the audience was marvellous. thoroughly overawed, its feeling was expressed by exclamations deep rather than loud, and several of the old men present uncovered--for all wore their hats except the orator himself--and mumbled a fervid prayer. the fact that the historical tragedy had been enacted eighty-three years previously was quite lost to view. it might have taken place yesterday for the effect the recalling of it produced upon the gathering. the orator proceeded. he drew vivid pictures of the exodus of the original dutch settlers, sacrificing all to be free from the hated english rule; of their intrepid and simple and god-fearing lives; of their daily hardships and toil; of their peril at the hands of fierce and warlike tribes; and while setting forth their endurance and heroism, he never wandered far from the main point, the text of his whole discourse--viz. how all that their fathers, the old voortrekkers, had to endure was the outcome of the oppressive rapacity of the english yoke. the myrmidons of england would not leave them in peace and quietness even when they had avenged the bloodshed and treachery of the zulu despot, and had reason to believe they had at last found the land of promise. let them look at natal to-day. they, the dutch, had bought it from dingane, and had occupied it. but the english had come and had seized it from them, had robbed them of the fruit of their labours and of their toil, and of their outpoured blood. let them look at the transvaal of to-day. it was the same there. a horde of english bloodsuckers had poured in, fevered by the lust of gold, and still more and more, until the land was overrun by them, as the land of pharaoh under the plague of locusts. and not only that, but they had brought with them every life and soul destroying vice which satan and his hell-kingdom, europe, could bring to bear to contaminate and utterly corrupt a god-fearing people. the speaker went on to portray in lurid colours the vices of johannesburg, a town, he put it, purely english, which those emissaries of satan had raised in their midst, contriving to put his finger, with considerable native astuteness, on the darker spots inseparable from the advance of european methods and progress. he further drew contrasts between the simple life of the young boer of a quarter of a century back, and the smart, educated, english-speaking, english-dressing, young boer up to date, so vivid and so little to the advantage of the latter, as to cause several there present perceptibly to wince. "brothers," he went on, "the time for purging away these iniquities is at hand. the eye of god is ever upon his people, and his wrath upon their oppressors. who turned back england's might, now nineteen years ago? who turned the hearts of her trained and drilled soldiers into water, so that they fled down the sides of majuba like hunted bucks before us--before a few farmers, whom they despised as so many ignorant boers? who smote them hip and thigh at schuins hoogte, and, indeed, everywhere, down to the wicked attempt upon our land--our beloved land, two years ago? not the arm of our brave burghers, but the arm of the lord. his arm brought us in triumph forth from the midst of our enemies, and assured our peace and safety, and prosperity, in the land wherein we dwell. and as the might of the lord was over us then, so is it now. england may send out her ships, as she is doing--may pour her soldiers into our land, as she is doing--may threaten our noble president, as she is doing--but what is that to us? when a nation, a god-fearing nation, is in peril, god will raise up for that nation a deliverer. he has raised up one for this nation, and the name of that deliverer is stephanus johannes paulus kruger." the roar of applause which went up at the mention of the great name-- held in veneration by every dutchman from the zambesi to cape agulhas-- would have drowned the speaker's voice, even if he had not been sufficiently master of his craft to pause in order to allow this touch to have its full effect. it was long before he could continue, and then with his right hand impressively laid upon the holy book before him, he thundered forth a volley of passages therefrom, deftly applied so as to work upon his audience, in such wise that many among it were by no means sure that the president of the south african republic was not actually mentioned by name therein, while a few were quite certain he was. the whole constituted a strange and instructive scene, for these enthusiasts were, with the exception of the orator himself, all british subjects, dwelling and prospering within a british colony, enjoying a responsible government and equal rights and representation for all. at length arose shouts for order and silence, and the speaker was able to resume: "brothers, i have heard it said that ye are our brethren no more; that we of the two republics are of another nation, of a different blood; that you on this side of the groote rivier have become english now--" "_nee, nee_!" burst from the audience, in roaring negative. "--that you will not raise a rifle in the holy cause of your brethren, i believe it not. our watchword is not `africa for the transvaal,' or `africa for the free state,' but `africa for the afrikanders'." again a shout of acclamation greeted the words. "brothers, i have been in england; i have seen her millions of people, her splendour, and her enormous wealth. but i have seen more. i have seen her weakness. i have seen her large cities, and their vice and squalor. i have seen the frivolous luxury of her rich, and the hideous misery and want and desperation of her poor; and i tell you that for all her outward strength she is a weak nation, a rotten nation, with all her best blood poisoned by disease, and her common blood turned to water by foul air and hunger and drunkenness. and this is the nation which is greedy for our land, is ravening to steal the gold which it contains." then, raising his powerful voice to thunder pitch: "brothers, shall this go on? now, nay, it shall not, i tell you. all is in readiness. for years _we_ have been in readiness, increasing our armed might, and now we are ready to strike--to strike with a force and terror that shall amaze the whole world. be in readiness, too, brave burghers, patriots all; and to deliver this message to you am i here to-night god does not will that this rotten, frivolous, and enfeebled nation shall rule over you any longer. be ready, for the day is at hand. `africa for the afrikanders!' is our watchword, and the flag that shall wave over that united africa is this." with the celerity of a conjurer he produced the four-coloured flag of the transvaal republic, and with one fierce jerk of the hand unfurling it, he waved it above his head. instantly every hat was off, and round after round of deafening cheering hailed the symbol. then, led by the emissary himself, the whole assembly struck up the "volkslied," the national hymn of the transvaal, roaring it forth in a manner that left nothing to be desired in the way of fervour, but much in the way of time and tune, and which must have impressed the numerous baboons infesting the crags and krantzes of the surrounding wildschutsbergen with the instinct that it was high time to quit that section of country, never to return. when the singing and cheering had subsided the emissary invited any of those present to express their opinions, but few cared to do so. one or two of the old men got up, but their remarks were mere quavering comments--interspersed with pious aspirations--upon all that the speaker had said, and fell woefully flat after the fiery periods and power of eloquence of the delegate from pretoria. and the secret of that power lay in the fact that the man was so terribly in earnest. no timeserving, self-seeking stump-agitator was andries botma. every word he uttered he implicitly believed, and that the whole dutch race in south africa were under special divine protection, and the anglo-saxon under the divine curse, he no more doubted than that the sky was above and the earth beneath. though a hopelessly fanatical patriot, he was essentially an honest one, and this his hearers knew. the _predikant_ having made a speech to high heaven, in the guise of a long prayer thoroughly in accordance with the prevailing sentiment of the meeting, the latter broke up. a few, mostly the older men, remained behind, talking over the ideas they had just heard with all seriousness, but most of them had crowded into another room where vrouw grobbelaar, aided by her trio of fine and rather pretty daughters, was dispensing coffee and other refreshment. these, too, were talking over the situation, but with a breezy boisterousness which was absent in their elders. "it's coming now, tanta, it's coming now," cried one young fellow, thrusting his way to the front. the old lady looked at him across the table. "what is coming now?" she repeated shortly--a way she had with those of the speaker's age and type. "why, the war, of course. we are going to drive the english out of the country. the patriot says so." the old lady snorted. "_you_ look like driving anybody out of the country, theunis venter, even the english. you'd be afraid to lie behind an antheap waiting to shoot _rooi-baatjes_ for fear of spoiling that pretty waistcoat of yours"--looking him up and down contemptuously. "and his tight riding-breeches--oh!--oh! wouldn't they split? and the rings! and yet you don't look like an englishman, theunis, not even in your grand english clothes." a roar of applause and derision from that section of her hearers which had not enjoyed the advantage of a south african college education and a parent with advanced ideas and generous bank-balance greeted the old woman's scoffing words. "_ja, ja_, theunis, that is just what the patriot said," they chorussed. but the young fellow looked sulky--very much so. he was one of that type of young boer who no longer thinks it the mark of a man and a patriot to sleep in his clothes and wear his hat in the house. nor was he the only one of that type there present. others took his side, and hurled corresponding gibes at the conservative party, and the uproar became simply deafening, all talking and bellowing at once. but if it be imagined that this turn of affairs caused the slightest uneasiness or alarm to the fair sex as there represented, the notion can be dismissed forthwith. there was a twinkle of mirth in the old lady's eyes which belied the sardonic droop of her mouth, and as for the girls they looked as placid and unconcerned as though some thirty odd infuriated males were not bawling the very house down within a couple of yards of them. "there--there!" sang out vrouw grobbelaar when she had had enough of it. "make not such a row, for dear heaven's sake! theunis, you are not such a bad sort of boy after all, for all your trimmed moustache and english clothes. hendrina, give him a _soepje_--that is to say, if he does not turn up his nose at the good liquor his father drank before him. i'm told that the english get drunk on stuff made from smoked wood, down in cape town. only one, though--i won't encourage young men to drink, but the night is cold, and he has a long way to ride. after all, it isn't his fault they tried to make an englishman of him." boer brandy, when pure and well matured, is about the best liquor in the world, and this was the best of its kind; wherefore under its influence, aided by the smiles of the ministering hendrina, the youth's ruffled feathers were soon smoothed down, and three or four of his sympathisers claiming to join in the privilege, good-humour was restored and plenty of mirth and good-fellowship prevailed before they separated for their long ride home over the moonlit veldt; for boers are by nature sociable folk among themselves, and the younger ones, at any rate, addicted to chaff and practical joking. in the other room, where refreshment had been taken in for their physical weal, sat the more serious-minded. "jan," said andries botma, turning to his host, "where is stephanus de la rey? is he sick?" "no!" "why is he not here to-night?" swaart jan shrugged his shoulders and grinned, his two tusks protruding more than ever. "how do i know, brother? only we must not forget that his wife is half an englishwoman." "ah!" said the delegate, who appeared to be struck with the idea. "oom stephanus would not come," put in a young man reverentially. "that is all i know about it." the speaker had been one of the most fervid listeners to the "patriot's" discourse, and with much trepidation had lingered behind among his elders, preferring their conversation to the boisterous merriment in the other room. "it is stephanus' nephew, adrian de la rey," said jan grobbelaar. "ah! a good name. a good name," declared the delegate. "bear it worthily, nephew, when the time comes." then, turning to the _predikant_, "we must win over stephanus de la rey, mynheer. we must win him over." "he is the only `good' man here whom we have not won," was the reply, given dubiously. "_ja, ja_!" assented swaart jan, shaking his head softly. "_ja, ja_! we must win over stephanus de la rey." chapter two. sidelights. down by the river bed a girl was standing. the river bed was dry. so, too, was the wide, flat expanse of veldt stretching before and around her, and the slopes of two low cliff-crowned mountains which at some distance off relieved the dead level of the arid plain were brown where they should have been green. the only green spot visible upon the whole landscape was formed by an extensive cultivated patch lying around a farmhouse half a mile away, and this was the result of irrigation, not of the opening of the windows of heaven. but, although the sun shone down from a cloudless sky in the full glory of his midday splendour, his rays were without power, for there was a keen icy edge upon the air, stirred by a light breeze that was suggestive of exhilaration combined with warm clothing, and imparted a very entrancing touch of additional colour to the cheeks of the girl standing there. she is a pretty girl, the large pupils of whose blue eyes lend to those attractive orbs a velvety softness which is in strange contradiction to the firm cut of the chin and the full though decided lips. she is of medium height, and her well-rounded figure is arrayed in a blouse and skirt, about as neat and serviceable a form of feminine attire as exists--on the veldt or elsewhere; but her hair, wavy and golden, is, save for a rebellious lock or two over the forehead, concealed within an ample white _kapje_, or sunbonnet--so becoming a framework to a pretty face. standing there among the dry mimosa bushes which fringe the river bank, her eyes wander meditatively forth over the brown and treeless plains beyond. here and there, black dots moving near or far represent the staple wealth of that section of country, in the shape of male ostriches in full plumage, and now and again the stillness is broken by a triple booming, as that most truculent of bipeds lifts up his voice; but these are everyday sights and sounds and of them the girl takes not the smallest notice, nor yet of the antics of one great savage bird, who, with all his jetty plumage bristling in wrath, towers up to a formidable height as he presses against the wires of the dividing fence in his futile efforts to reach her and kick her into smithereens. suddenly her eyes dilate and she gives a slight start--even losing a little of her colour. for this yon black demon stalking up and down in impotent menace but a few yards off is in no wise responsible. the fence will take care of him. can such an effect be produced by the sight of that tourniquet of dust, far away over the plain, yet whirling nearer and nearer? perchance, for no mere erratic "dust-devil" is yonder cloud. it is raised by the hoofs of a horse. yet no assignation is this. not for the purpose of meeting anybody is this girl here to-day. for all that her breast heaves somewhat, and her forsaking colour returns with a little more added as she glances round nervously towards the farmhouse, and finds herself wishing she had on headgear less conspicuous than the snowy whiteness of a _kapje_. on comes the dust-cloud, powdering up from the road at each hoof-stroke as the horseman advances at a canter. he, whoever it may be, is yet a great way off, and a speculation, in which hope is about equal to disappointment and disgust combined, escapes those pretty lips: "only some dutchman, i suppose." but a very few minutes of further watching suffices to bring back the light to her face, and an eager, expectant look, which she strives to repress, shines from her eyes. for the rider is very near now, and instinctively she moves a little further down the river bank in such wise that the dip in the ground where the drift lies conceals her effectually, white _kapje_ and all, from view of the homestead. the horseman, who is now descending into the drift, perceives her and turns his steed, so as to join her among the thorns. "why, may, this is good of you," he says, as he joins her. seen dismounted he is a tall, well-set-up man of about five-and-thirty, with clean-cut features and a dark moustache. his brown eyes are clear and searching, and there is a certain quickness about his speech and movements which is totally disassociated with any suggestion of flurry. "what is `good of' me? you don't suppose i came down here on purpose to meet you, i hope?" is the characteristic rejoinder, uttered with a certain tinge of defiance. "why not? it would have been very nice of you--very sweet of you, in fact, and i should have appreciated it. don't you run away with the idea that the faculty of appreciation is exclusively vested in the softer sex." they were still holding each other's hands--holding them a good deal longer than the usages of social greeting exacted. "well, i'm glad i came, anyhow," she answered, in a softer tone, relaxing her grasp of his with ever so perceptible a final pressure. "the slowness of this place gets upon my nerves." "you've spoilt it now," he laughed, looking her in the eyes. "for penalty you deserve what i'm about to tell you. i haven't time to off-saddle. i'm going straight on." she started. the bright face clouded over. the new arrival, who had never removed his eyes from it, needed all his self-command to refrain from an uncontrollable burst of merriment. "if you pass our door to-day or any other day without off-saddling i'll never speak to you again," she declared. "why should i not when you indignantly vow you would not come this little way to meet me?" he rejoined, still with a faint smile playing round the corners of his mouth. "you know i would," she flashed forth impulsively. "don't be horrid, colvin! i didn't, exactly come to meet you, but i did walk down here on the--offchance that--that you might be coming. there. why is it that you always make me say everything right out--things i don't in the least want to say? nobody else could. yet you do." for answer colvin kershaw deliberately placed one arm around the speaker, and, lifting her face with his other hand, kissed her on the lips. he did not hurry over the process either, nor did she seem anxious that he should. yet these two were not lovers in the recognised and affianced sense of the term. "how pretty you look in that white _kapje_!" he said, as he released her. "it suits you so well. if it hadn't been for the glint of the white catching my eye i believe i should have passed you without seeing. and of course you would have let me?" "of course i should. but we had better go back to the house now, because if frank or mother saw you ride down to the drift, they will be wondering how it is you are so long in getting to the other side. come!" they strolled up the stony river bank together, he leading his horse. but a sort of constraint fell upon the girl as they drew near the house. she had noticed her mother looking at her strangely of late when the talk had turned upon the man now at her side. he, for his part, felt no constraint at all. in point of fact, he never did. no dogs heralded their approach with loud-mouthed clamour. no self-respecting dog given to erratic movement, and poking his nose into every corner where he should not, could live a day on a well-organised ostrich farm by reason of the poisoned morsels--carefully planted out of the way of the birds themselves--wherewith the run is strewn; for the benefit of cats and jackals, and leopards. one ancient and wheezy cur, however, incapable of any lengthier peregrination than a hundred yards, greeted their approach with sepulchral barks, and behind it came the owner, with his coat half on half off. "hallo, colvin!" he sang out. "why, you're quite a stranger these days. haven't been here for weeks. plotting treason with your friends the dutchmen, i believe?" "that's it, frank. we're going to hold your place up for arms and ammunition first thing. then they're going to make me state secretary of the new cape colony republic on condition i do the shooting of you with my own hand. so now you're warned." the point of these amenities lay in the fact that colvin kershaw was not without pronounced dutch sympathies at a time of strong political tension. whereas frank wenlock, though on good enough terms with his dutch neighbours individually, was one of those not uncommon types who labour under a firm conviction that the powers above built this planet earth primarily for the benefit of--and eventually to be solely and absolutely ruled from north to south, and from east to west by--england, and england only. personally considered frank wenlock was a presentable young fellow enough. externally of medium height, strong and energetic, his face, lighted up by a pair of blue eyes not unlike those of his sister, though not handsome, was open and pleasing. in character, though somewhat quick-tempered, he was the soul of good-nature, but withal no part of a fool. he and colvin kershaw had been fellow-pioneers together in rhodesia, and had fought side by side throughout the grim struggle of the matabele rebellion. "now, mr kershaw, can't you and frank get together for a moment without fighting about the boers?" interrupted a brisk, not unpleasing, and yet not altogether refined voice. "but where did you pick up may?" colvin turned to greet its owner; a well-preserved, middle-aged woman, not so many years his senior, good-looking too, after a fine, fresh, healthy type. "oh, we haven't begun upon them yet, mrs wenlock," he replied, ignoring the last query. "we'll worry that out after dinner." "you're not going on to-night?" "yes, i must i want to get to stephanus de la rey's. there's a joker there i want to meet." "is that the transvaal emissary?" said frank, looking up quickly from his plate, for they had sat down to dinner. "i suppose that's what you'd call him. but, do you know, all this rather interests me. i like to hear all there is to be said on both sides." "why they'll hold a meeting and simply spout treason all night," rejoined frank vehemently. "good lord, if i were milner, i'd have that fellow arrested and shot as a spy." "my dear chap, you can't shoot `spies' when we are not at war with anybody, and botma, i suppose, has about as much right to hold a meeting among his countrymen here as a british labour delegate has to organise a strike. these are among the advantages of a free country, don't you know?" "did you come straight here from your place to-day?" said mrs wenlock, by way of covering the angry growl with which her son had received the other's words. "no. i slept at swaart jan grobbelaar's." "that's the old buck who brought away a lot of british skulls from majuba," burst in frank. "they say he sticks one up at a couple of hundred yards every majuba day, and practises at it until there isn't a bit left big enough for a bullet to hit." "he must have brought away about a waggonload of them, then, considering that majuba happened eighteen years ago," said colvin. "but i don't know that it isn't all a yarn. people will say anything about each other just now." "i hear there's a lot of war-talk among the dutch in the wildschutsbergen now, mr kershaw," said mrs wenlock. "you must hear it, because you're right in among them all." "oh, they talk a good bit about war, but then what do we do? when i was down at the port elizabeth show all the english were busy taking the transvaal. it was the same thing along fish river and koonap. if two or three fellows got together on any given farm they were bound to spend the evening taking the transvaal. in fact, no boer could give a shoot on his place without his english neighbours swearing he was rifle-practising for the great upheaval. we talk nothing but the war, but if the dutchmen do it becomes menace, sedition, and all the rest of it right away." those were the days subsequent to the failure of the bloemfontein conference, and racial feeling was near attaining its highest pitch. frank wenlock, as we have said, got on with his dutch neighbours more than passably, which was as well, considering that his english ones were but few and at long distances apart. but even upon him the curse of a far-off dissension had fallen. colvin kershaw, on the other hand, was a man of the world, with a well-balanced mind, and somewhat unconventional withal. he took a judicial view of the situation, and, while recognising that it had two sides, and that there was a great deal to be said for both, he distinctly declined to allow any political considerations to make any difference to the relationship in which he stood towards his boer neighbours and their families, with several of whom he was on very good terms indeed. a wild effort was made to abandon the burning subject, and for awhile, as they sat upon the stoep smoking their pipes--the conversation ran upon stock and local interests, and the prospects of rain to carry them through the winter. but it soon came round again, as, indeed, in those days it was bound to do, and the hotter and hotter grew frank wenlock on the subject, the cooler and cooler remained his opponent. may, for her part, sat and listened. she mostly shared her brother's prejudices on that particular subject; but here was one whose opinion on most subjects she held in the highest regard. clearly, then, there was something to be said on the other side. "why need you go on to-night, mr kershaw?" struck in mrs wenlock. "your room is always ready, you know, and it's quite a long while since you were here." "it won't be so long again, mrs wenlock. but i must be at stephanus de la rey's to-night, because, over and above the delegate, i made an appointment with piet lombard over a stock deal." "not to mention other attractions," cut in may, with a mischievous look in her blue eyes. "which is the favoured one--andrina or condaas?" "how can one presume upon a choice between two such dreams of loveliness? both, of course," was the mirthful rejoinder. but there was no real merriment in the mind of the girl. she had hoped he would stay, had mapped out a potential afternoon's stroll--it might be, by great good luck, the two of them alone together. and things were so slow, and times so dull, there where they saw no one month in month out, save an occasional boer passer-by, or a travelling _smaus_, or feather-buyer, usually of a tolerably low type of jew--and therefore, socially, no acquisition. yes, after all, that was it. times were so dull. "don't be so long finding your way over again," was the chorus of god-speed which followed the departing guest as his steed ambled away. he, for his part, seemed to find a good deal to think about as he held on over the wide brown plains, dismounting absently to let himself through a gate every few minutes, for the whole veldt was a network of wire fencing. ostriches, grazing, lifted their long necks, some in half-frightened, some in half-truculent curiosity, to gaze at him, then dropped them again to resume their picking at the dried sprigs of karroo bush. his acquaintance with the wenlocks dated from just a year back: with the family that is, for he and frank had, as we have said, campaigned together in rhodesia. on returning to the colony at the close of the rebellion he had come to visit his former comrade-in-arms at the latter's own home, and had spent three months there while looking about for a place of his own. he had soon found one to his liking, and now owned a , -morgen farm in the wildschutsberg range, where report said he got through more game-shooting than farming. if so, it didn't seem to matter greatly, for colvin kershaw was one of those phenomena occasionally encountered--an habitually lucky man. what he undertook in a small and careless way was wont to turn out better results than ten times the carefully prepared labour and forethought exercised by other people. furthermore he was uncommunicative as to his own affairs, and whatever was known about him among his neighbours amounted to just nothing at all. "come again soon," had been may's parting words, and the blue eyes uplifted to his during that last handclasp had been wondrously soft and appealing. was it upon this his thoughts were dwelling so intently as he rode along mile after mile? perhaps. yet he had often bidden her farewell before. chapter three. a boer farm. ratels hoek, the farm owned by stephanus de la rey, was situated in a broad, open basin, surrounded by the craggy, cliff-crowned hills of the wildschutsberg range. it was a prosperous-looking place. the homestead was large and roomy, and not unpicturesque, with its deep verandah shaded by growing creepers, which, however, at that time of year were destitute of leafage. a well-kept flower garden, which was a blaze of bright colour in good seasons, went round two sides of the house, and behind, abundant stabling and shearing sheds and kraals and dipping tank testified to the up-to-date ideas and enterprise of its owner. beyond these again large patches of cultivated lands, shut in by high quince hedges, sloped down to the sneeuw river, which took its rise in the wildschutsberg, and which, normally dry or the merest trickle, could roar down in a terrific torrent at very short notice what time thunderstorms were heavy and frequent in the mountains beyond. away over the veldt, which, until joining the grassy slopes of the surrounding heights, was gently undulating and fairly covered with mimosa bush, ostriches grazed, or stalked defiantly up and down the wire fencing which divided one large "camp" from another. if ratels hoek was a creditable example of the better class of dutch farm, no less was its owner an excellent specimen of the better type of dutch farmer. stephanus de la rey was a tall, handsome man of about fifty. he had a fine forehead, blue eyes, and straight, regular features, and the masses of his full brown beard had hardly yet begun to show threads of grey. his character was in keeping with his general appearance, for though quiet-mannered, he was the most straight forward and genial of men, and was immensely looked up to and respected far and wide by such few english as the neighbourhood contained, no less than by his own compatriots. his wife was a bright, cheerful, brisk-mannered little woman, who, as we have already heard it stated, was half english in that she had owned an english mother. their family consisted of a liberal eight, of which those now at home represented the younger two of each sex. stephanus de la rey was seated on his stoep, smoking a meditative pipe and thinking deeply. he had just been reading the newspapers, and there was enough in them at that time to give a thoughtful man plenty to think about. his own sympathies were not unnaturally with the transvaal, where two of his sons had settled, and for its president he entertained a very warm admiration. but he was no fiery patriot. war was a terrible thing, and war between two white nations--two christian nations, in a land swarming with heathen barbarians--seemed to him hardly justifiable under any circumstances whatever. even if the worst came to the worst, let the republic fight its own battles. he and his neighbours had no grievance against the english government under which they dwelt--save grievances which were purely sentimental and belonging to ancient history; and as he gazed around upon his own prosperous lands the gravity of his thoughts deepened. this was momentarily diverted by the approach of two of his sons--who had just come in from the veldt-- tall, light-haired, quiet-looking youths of two- and three-and-twenty respectively. they seemed to be under the influence of some unwonted excitement. "we heard some news to-day, pa," said the elder of the two. "we are to have a visitor to-night. who do you think it is?" "i cannot guess. who is it?" "the patriot," burst forth the other. "_ja_, that is good! i have wanted so much to see him." both looked furtively at each other and then at their father. the latter did not seem overjoyed at the news. in point of fact he was not. personally the presence in his house of the transvaal delegate would have afforded him the keenest gratification but that he knew as surely as though he had been told that the latter's visit would be purely of a political nature, and stephanus de la rey preferred to leave politics severely alone. not only that, but that his own conversion to the ranks of the secret agitators was the motive of the visit he more than suspected. "where did you hear that, jan?" he said. "adrian told us, pa. we saw him as we passed friedrik schoemann's. he is coming up to-night too. _ja_! you should hear him talk of the patriot. he heard him two nights ago at jan grobbelaar's. the patriot spoke to him too--to him, adrian. he says in a month or two we shall have driven all the english out of the country. see, cornelis," turning to his brother, "i wonder if that second post from the gate away yonder were an englishman how long it would be standing there," and he levelled his long martini as though to put the matter to the test. but the reply which this demonstration elicited from their habitually easy-going and indulgent father both surprised and startled the two youths, and that mightily. "are you not ashamed of yourself, jan, to stand there before me and talk such wicked nonsense? is that the sort of christianity the teaching of mynheer, as well as of your own parents, has implanted in you, that you can talk about shooting men--christian men like ourselves, remember--as you would talk of shooting buck? i have nothing to do with adrian's movements or ideas, although he is my nephew, but i have with yours; so listen to me. there is a great deal of wild talk being flung around just now, but i wish you to have nothing to do with it. of course you cannot help hearing it from time to time, there is too much of it everywhere unfortunately; but i enjoin you not to take part in it. it is shameful the light way in which such weighty and serious subjects are discussed. when our fathers took up arms to defend their rights and liberties and their lives they did so prayerfully and with the full weight of their solemn responsibilities, and that is why they were victorious. but now such matters are bragged and chattered about by a herd of thoughtless boys. leave them alone. the times are quite troublous enough, and things may come right or may not, but the only way in which we can help is to be quiet and to attend to our own business." "_oh, goeije_! what are you giving those children such a scolding about, father?" chimed in a cheery voice, whose owner came bustling out on to the stoep. stephanus de la rey turned his head, with a smile. "i am giving them a little good advice," he said, relighting his pipe. "and i don't think i've ever given them any bad. have i, boys?" "no, pa," they answered, meaning it, too, but not sorry that their mother had come to the rescue: yet profoundly impressed by the stern earnestness of the paternal expostulation. "here come people," said stephanus, gliding easily from the subject, which he had no wish to prolong. "can you make them out, cornelis?" "i think so," replied the youth, shading his eyes, and gazing at two distant but rapidly approaching horsemen. "one is adrian, and the other--i believe it's an englishman from the way he holds his feet in the stirrups. _ja_--it is. it must be colvin kershaw." "is it?" "where?" and the utterers of both queries came forth on to the stoep, causing their brothers to break into a splutter of mirth. the younger of the two girls took after her mother. she was short and dark, and rather too squat for her seventeen years, but had fine eyes. the other, who was a year older, was taller, fair and blue-eyed, and rather pretty. "which _is_ it, andrina?" whispered jan to this one mischievously. "the englishman, of course! you all go mad over him." "do we? who's `we,' and who is `all,' i should like to know?" retorted andrina, with a toss of her golden head. "i know i don't," said the other girl. "why, we fight too much for that. but i like fighting him. i wish all englishmen were like him though. he is so full of fun." stephanus welcomed both arrivals with his usual geniality, not allowing the fact that he disapproved of his nephew politically to make the slightest difference in his manner. the young boer, however, whose self-confidence was lacking in the presence of one to whom he looked up so much, felt somewhat constrained. however, his message had to be delivered, so he jerked out: "the patriot will be here at sundown, oom stephanus." "so?" "he addressed us for nearly three hours at jan grobbelaar's two nights ago. _ja_, it was magnificent to hear him," went on the speaker, losing himself in his enthusiasm for the cause. "i wish you would hear him, oom stephanus. he would soon convince you." "make a `patriot' of me, you mean, adrian. i am that already in the real meaning of the word. well, colvin, what have you been doing lately? it's a long time since i've seen you." "that so, stephanus? oh, all sorts of things--farming, and hunting, and taking it easy generally." "and making love to that pretty miss wenlock," said condaas, the younger girl, in a sly undertone. colvin turned, with a laugh. he and this household were upon quite intimate terms, and he had been exchanging greetings all-round during the colloquy between uncle and nephew. "there would be every excuse, wouldn't there?" he answered, entering into the joke, and, moreover, hugely amused, remembering that almost the last words may had spoken to him had been to chaff him about these very girls, and now almost their first words had been to chaff him about her. "you ought not to say that in our presence," said andrina, with a mimic pout. "of course not. but if you had not interrupted me i was going to add--`but for the fact of the propinquity of ratels hoek and the entrancing but utterly perplexing choice of counter-attractions it affords.'" "why will you make those girls talk such a lot of nonsense, mr kershaw?" laughed mrs de la rey. "they always do whenever you come here. i declare you are making them very dreadful." "didn't know i exercised such influence over the young and tender mind. it isn't i who do it, mrs de la rey. it's adrian there. depend upon it, he is the delinquent." now adrian was a good-looking, well-set-up young fellow, who, his fiery "patriotism" notwithstanding, had his clothes built by an english tailor and talked english fluently. indeed, in the de la rey household it was spoken almost as frequently as the mother tongue, and the above conversation had been carried on about equally in both languages, gliding imperceptibly from one to the other and back again. "adrian? why, there isn't a grain of fun left in adrian these days," said condaas, mischievously. "see how solemn he looks. i believe he thinks about nothing but fighting the english." "well, we have just ridden two solid hours together, and he didn't want to fight me," said colvin. but the young "patriot" was not enjoying this form of chaff, for he turned away, indignantly muttering to the effect that some matters were too high and too great to be made fun of by a pair of giggling girls. "now we have made him _kwaatj_," said andrina. "see now, i'll get him to laugh again." then, raising her voice, "adrian! adrian! wait. i want to stroll round the garden with you and hear about the cause." "that has made him more _kwaat_ than ever," whispered condaas; for the badgered one, who had hesitated, turned away again with an angry jerk, scenting more chaff on his sacred subject. andrina looked knowing. "adrian!" she hailed again--"wait. i want to tell you about aletta. really. you know, i heard from her yesterday." the effect was magical, also comical. the affronted "patriot" stopped short. there was no irresolution now about his change of front. "come, then," he said. with a comical look at the other two, andrina tripped off, and that she had satisfactorily carried out her stated intention was manifest by the animated way in which they appeared to be conversing. "that drew him," chuckled condaas. "you know, mr kershaw, he was awfully mashed on aletta the last time she came home." "condaas, what sort of expressions are you using?" said her mother reprovingly. "i don't know where you learnt them, or what mr kershaw will think." "why we learnt them from him, of course, ma," replied the girl. "you don't suppose we picked up that kind of thing from the very solemn old maid you got for us as english governess." "not from me. maybe it was from frank wenlock," said colvin, who was speculating how the object of their present merriment could pass by the charms of andrina, who was undeniably a pretty girl, in favour of her elder sister. the latter he had never seen. she had been absent in cape town, at school or with relatives, ever since his own arrival in that part of the country, but there were photographic portraits of her, decking the wall of the sitting-room and the family album. these, to his impartial eye, conveyed the impression of rather a heavy-looking girl, at the awkward stage, with bunched-up shoulders and no pretensions whatever to good looks. to be sure, he had heard a great deal on the subject of the absent one, her attainments and attractiveness, but such he unhesitatingly attributed to family bias. struck with a sudden idea, he moved into the sitting-room, and casually, as it were, drew up in front of a framed portrait which stood upon the piano. "that is the latest of aletta," said condaas, who had followed him in. "she sent it up to us only a post or two ago; since you were here." "so?" he bent down and examined it intently. it represented a girl of about nineteen or twenty. the idea of awkwardness conveyed by the other portraits was no longer there, but in looks he failed to detect any improvement aletta de la rey was plain, assuredly plain, he decided. "_oh, goeije_! here come a lot of people," exclaimed condaas. "the `patriot,' i suppose." a rumbling sound was audible, drawing nearer and nearer. both made for the window. a cavalcade of boers was approaching the house, and in the midst, as though escorted by it, moved the white tent of a cape cart. chapter four. the conversion of stephanus de la rey. a striking contrast no less than a striking personality was offered by the two leading figures in this group as stephanus de la rey advanced to welcome his noted visitor. both were fine types of their nationality and class--the one calm-faced, reposeful, with the air of a thoroughly contented and prosperous man; the other bright-eyed, restless, alert, with the nervous rapidity of movement of one existing in a state of chronic tension. the greeting between the two was cordial enough, and there was much handshaking, as the others, to the number of a round dozen, dropped in by twos and threes. "why, who is this?" exclaimed the delegate, a shade of distrust coming into his face as he shook hands with colvin kershaw--for among boers the ceremony of introduction is but seldom performed. "an englishman, i believe?" "that is so, mynheer botma. and one who is very proud to make the acquaintance of so famous and gifted a man as yourself," replied colvin, who spoke the _taal_ very fairly well. the delegate shot a keen glance at the speaker, then he became quite cordial. he hated the english, but it suddenly occurred to him that this particular englishman had a look of one who might be turned to some account. accordingly he engaged him in conversation, during which colvin adroitly contrived to insinuate that his sympathies were all with the transvaal cause, and that for the person of oom paul in particular he entertained feelings of the profoundest admiration. "that is good," said jan grobbelaar, showing his tusks approvingly. "we were having much talk about this only last evening, brother," turning to the delegate: "colvin is a neighbour of mine. he is not like other english." whether the object of this comment was gratified thereby or not, he made no sign; but one result of the voucher thus made was that the assembled boers, to most of whom he was well known, conversed with far less restraint--both then and during the course of the evening. and the burden of their conversation was confined well-nigh entirely to the very strained relations then existing between the transvaal and the suzerain power, and what was going to be done upon the final and certain rupture thereof. not much was said during the evening meal, and that little was mainly confined to local and farming matters and the prospects or the reverse of a speedy rain. the boer guests fell to with a will, and did ample justice to the springbuck stew and other delicacies of the veldt as there set forth in abundance; for mrs de la rey had anticipated just such an inroad as had taken place. moreover, she was a model housewife, and possessed of wonderful dutch recipes of old-time cape and batavian origin, and within her domain here were none of the insipid and over-sweetened dishes which prevailed in the ordinary and rougher class of boer household. after supper--when pipes were in full blast, in such wise, indeed, that it was hardly possible to see across the room--it was not long before the subject engrossing all minds came to the fore. "_so_, colvin. _you_ smoke transvaal tobacco, then?" said one young boer with a wink at his neighbours, and affecting surprise. "rather, marthinus. why not?" "why, because you're an englishman, to be sure." "ha-ha. but then, marthinus, i happen to be an englishman who smokes what he likes. and i like transvaal tobacco. shall i tell you what else i like? i like _dop_. so just send along that decanter that's at the other side of barend van zyl's elbow, will you?" there was a great laugh at this, and barend van zyl aforesaid made believe to withhold the decanter on the ground that its contents might impair the speaker's patriotism. it led to a lot of chaff with regard to the political situation, some of which, albeit good-humoured, was keen enough to have thrown some englishmen, frank wenlock, for instance, into a real fighting rage. this one, however, was made of different stuff. it didn't ruffle him in the least. moreover, he knew that they were merely "taking the measure of his foot." "and they say that we can't shoot any more, we young ones," said another boer. "i saw it in a cape english newspaper which piet lombard had sent him. they say that we are all going off in our shooting, and are good for nothing; that we cannot bring down game like out fathers could." "_maagtig_! but they are liars, those english newspaper men," assented somebody else. "_nee wat_. i would like to get the miserable ink-squirter who wrote that, and make him run at five hundred yards from my martini. we would soon show him whether we young ones are so _sleg_." "hallo, marthinus, that's a little too loud," cut in colvin kershaw with a laugh. "why, man, how about that old springbuck ram i saw you miss twice running that shoot we had at tafelfontein at the end of last season there, _oerkant_, by the vlei? he wasn't a step over four hundred yards. come now, what would you do with your runaway man at five hundred?" "that's true," assented marthinus a little crestfallen. then brightening up: "but then the english newspaper man would be running too hard. _ja, kerelen_. now, an english newspaper man _would_ run!" "do you know how i was taught to shoot, colvin?" asked a wiry, middle-aged boer with a long light beard, pushing his tobacco bag made of dressed buckskin across to the englishman. "when i was eight years old my father used to put a loaded rifle into my hand. it was a muzzle-loader--we had no martinis or mausers in those days. _maagtig_-- no. he didn't give me a second charge for reloading either. he would start me out into the veldt at daybreak, and if i returned without having shot a buck i got no breakfast. then he would start me off again, and if i returned a second time without having shot a buck i was allowed some dinner, but first of all i got plenty of `strop.' then i was turned out again, and if i failed again i got still more `strop,' and went to bed without any supper. but it was not more than two or three times that happened. _nee, kerelen_! well, that is the way to teach a youngster to shoot." "that's all very well, izaak," replied colvin; "but it might be the way to teach some youngsters not to shoot. the fact of knowing they hadn't another chance might get upon their nerves and make them miss." but the other, whose name was izaak van aardt, and who was known amongst his neighbours as second to none for a sure and deadly game shot, only shook his head, unconvinced. "but," struck in the young dutchman who had started the chaff about the transvaal tobacco, "it is only english youngsters who have nerves. boer youngsters have no nerves." and he winked at the others as at first. "haven't they?" responded colvin kershaw, with a tranquil smile. "no, especially when you tell them some yarn about the _spoek_ that comes out of the waggon-house at night and yells." they laughed somewhat foolishly at this, the point being that boer children, filled up as they are with all sorts of hottentot stories, weird and grotesque, are no more intrepid under the circumstances named than would be other children. the above conversation, however, was significant of two things. one was the high-pitched tension to which racial feeling had attained among the northern border dutch. it bristled with sly digs, and open ones too, at the english. they could no more keep such out of their conversation than could mr dick keep king charles's head out of his classic memorial. the second was the exceedingly friendly terms upon which this one englishman, alone in their midst, stood towards them. had it been otherwise, while they would have refrained from intentionally saying anything that might have been offensive to their fellow-guest, and one held in so much esteem by the people under whose roof they found themselves, they would have sat taciturn and constrained, confining the conversation for the most part to heavy monosyllables. and as emphasising these two points it is worthy of record. now the talkers began to break up, some, however, remaining rooted to their chairs, talking out the situation with increasing vehemence. others went out to see after their horses, while others again had convened music in the other room. the boer, as a rule, is fond of music, even if it takes no more aspiring form than the homely strains of a concertina; and whereas both the de la rey girls could play, and one could sing, fairly, well, their audience listened with a whole-hearted appreciation not always to be found under like circumstances in the drawing-rooms of the fashionable and of the would-be artistic. colvin kershaw likewise was in great request, for he had a smattering of ear knowledge which enabled him to rattle off snatches from most of the comic operas of the day, and these were hugely in favour with his somewhat primitive hearers. he could, too, on occasions, as when performing for the benefit of some old-fashioned and highly orthodox old "tanta" who deemed all secular music an invention of satan for the snaring of souls, turn such and similar lively strains, by an alteration of time and expression, into the most solemn and soul-stirring of psalm tunes; to the convulsive, because concealed, delight of andrina and condaas and others in the know, and to the ecstatic edification of the antiques aforesaid, who would go away thinking that if only "mynheer" would induce the performer to play on the harmonium in church on sunday, what a long way they would travel in order to be present. but the lighter side of life is never far removed from the momentous, and this was represented in another part of the house, whose owner was closeted in long and earnest conversation with "the patriot." "you are the man we want, brother de la rey," the latter was saying in his quick, emphatic voice, having spent an hour setting forth his mission in all its fulness, and that with the convincing earnestness of a man who thoroughly believes in it. "just consider. the whole of this district is with us, and not merely the whole of this district but the whole of the northern border. others, too, as far as the seaboard on one side and the cape on the other. you cannot stand aloof. you cannot be the only one to refuse to side with your countrymen, those of your own blood, in their struggle for freedom and power." "we had better not talk too much about freedom," was the reply, with a grave head-shake, "i should like to know, brother botma, under what government we could enjoy greater freedom than that under which we are now living." "`under which?' yes, that is just it. `under which.' but we ought not to be living `under' any government but our own. our independence--that is the star to which our eyes turn. that you yourself dwell happy and in comfort here, stephanus de la rey, is but an unworthy way of looking at it. are the ties of blood-brotherhood nothing? are the ties of nationality nothing? is our independence nothing? selfish considerations must be thrown away now. why, even you have two sons with us. they will fight in our ranks. will you, then, fight in those of the enemy?" "i do not desire any fighting. i deplore this trouble. if the kafirs were to rise, for instance, i do not think you would find me backward. ask those who know me if i am not speaking true. but this is a struggle between white men, and in a land, too, where they ought to be brothers." "brothers? we and the english can never be brothers. listen, stephanus," laying an impressive hand upon the other's arm. "it is a struggle for life and death between us and them. to this end they have been working. to this end have they been throwing all their adventurers into our land. yes; how many from this country, this very british colony you are so proud to belong to, have come to us without a penny-- unable even so much as to make a living under the british flag--have come to us on the very verge of bankruptcy, and actually through it--to make not merely a living, but in many cases large fortunes? and these are the people with a grievance! these are the people who fatten on our land, and then want to seize it because it is richer than theirs. that is why they desire the franchise, that they may oust the burghers who fought for their independence; whose fathers shed their blood like water in withstanding the heathen savage, who went forth determined never again to submit to the english yoke." "that is true," rejoined the other. "yet it seems to me that it is because of them that the country has become rich. had they not come there, what then? who would have worked the gold and the mines?" "we could have done without the gold and the mines," was the fiery response. "we did not desire them. we were better as we were. and look, brother. did these uitlanders come into our land to benefit our land? if so, why do they not stay there when they have enriched themselves out of it? do they? not so. they return to spend the wealth they have made out of us among the babylon sinks of vice, the large cities of europe. they came into the land to enrich themselves, certainly not to enrich our land. but now that it is rich they want to seize it." the listener made no immediate reply. he sat in troubled meditation, his brow clouded. the speaker, watched him the while with a kind of hungering anxiety. this was the man he desired to win over, a man of weight and standing, whose influence thrown into the scale would bring hundreds to the afrikander cause and confirm hundreds more who might be wavering. he went on: "everything is ready now. the president will never yield to their demands, and even if he would the burghers will never allow it. if we gave them the five years' franchise they would then ask for two, then for none at all. and where would we be? where would we be, i ask you, remembering the shameful attempt upon us three years ago? mark now, brother. we are about to put forth our strength. we know our strength, they do not. they know not that we are ten times stronger than they think. they boast that by the end of the year the english flag will wave over pretoria. will it? we shall see. "they think that they have only to threaten us and we shall collapse. they have forgotten the lessons of . a god-protected people fighting for its liberties is a terrible thing, stephanus, and that is what we were then and what we are now. we have for years been collecting arms and ammunition which will render us strong enough for the whole british army. and then when the whole british army is hurled against us there are european nations who will hurl themselves upon england. they will not lose their opportunity. they hate england too much for that. then is our time. now, stephanus, will you be the only man who refuses to join his own nationality? i go from here to-morrow, for my mission is at an end, and it has been fruitful beyond my hopes. when i return it will be with our conquering forces to help plant the `vierkleur' over our new republic, which shall extend from the zambesi to the cape. my dear brother, think. we want you; we want such men as you among our leaders. throw selfish considerations away, and link yourself with the holy army of patriots." the speaker ceased. carried away by his own fervour, he could hardly any longer bring out his words with sufficient coherence. and that very fervour had carried his listener with him. stephanus de la rey was, to tell the truth, deeply impressed. true, he himself had no reason to be otherwise than perfectly contented; but had he any right to consider his own prosperity, his own well-being, when the cause of his countrymen was at stake? transvaal, free state, or cape colony, were they not all of one blood--all dutch? many a man would have considered what advantages might accrue to himself by joining the movement, what risk, even danger, was incurred by abstaining; but this one was honest to the core. the patriotic side was what appealed to him, that and that only. and looking at him as though reading his thoughts, andries botma, the transvaal delegate, was filled with a whole-souled elation. he knew he had won, and that however much time and thought he might give to the situation between this and then, the moment the forces of the allied republics crossed the border stephanus de la rey would be upon their side. but this stephanus de la rey did not know himself, not, at any rate, at that time. chapter five. signs. "_jij verdomde engelschman! stil maar! ik saal nit nou jou kop afslaan_!" [note .] the speaker is a big dutchman, the scene the stoep of a roadside hotel in the karroo, the spoken-to frank wenlock. we regret, however, to be obliged to record that our friend has taken on board a glass or two more than he can stow with absolute regard either to equilibrium or strict decorum. a cape cart and a buggy, the harness hung loosely to the splashboard, stand out-spanned by the broad dusty road, and three or four horses with their saddles on are grouped beneath a stumpy, spreading mimosa, as rooted to the spot by the mere fact of two or three inches of their bridles trailing on the ground as though tied fast to anything solid and tangible. for reply to the threat, frank wenlock utters a defiant laugh, then once more lifts up his voice in song: "ta-ra-ra-ra boom-de-ay! oom paul op een vark gerij, af hij val en zier gekrij, toen klim op en veg gerij." with a growl and a curse the big boer comes at him. he is nearly a head the taller and far the heavier and more powerful man; but frank wenlock knows how to use his hands a bit, and, "sprung" as he is, he parries the sledge-hammer blow aimed at him by his large assailant, and stands ready. the latter begins to parley: "what do you insult our president for, then?" he growls. "can't i sing a song if i want?" returns frank. "besides, oom paul isn't your president." "ah, but he soon will be. and won't he make the _rooineks_ run?" "well, here's a _rooinek_ you can't make run, hermanus delport, elephant as you are. come along and have a try, will you? what? you won't? you're a bally coward then--and you're twice my size. "ta-ra-ra-ra boom-de-ay, oom paul op een vark gerij--" he begins again in a tone that is insulting and defiant to the last degree. there are other dutchmen on the stoep. these, who have laughed hitherto, expecting to see their huge compatriot simply double up the smaller but foolhardy englishman, now spring to their feet with incensed shouts. "go at him, hermanus. knock him down and lay your _sjambok_ about him. cut him into _riempjes_. we'll give him oom paul!" are some of the cries wherewith they nerve their champion on to war. there is no backing out of it now. delport hurls himself upon frank, who stands there, squaring up, and still singing the nonsensical--and to boer susceptibilities offensive--quatrain. but a very hard right- and lefthander meets him, and that in each eye, causing him to stagger back. frank, however, has not come off unscathed, for the big boer's fist has more than grazed his cheekbone. the others crowd up behind their champion, renewing their shouts of encouragement. "come on, come on! i'll take the bally lot of you, when i've polished off that elephant there," shouts frank in english, waltzing towards the group, his hands up and ready. "no, you jolly well won't, frank," cuts in another english voice, whose owner tranquilly steps in between the combatants. "come now, stop making a fool of yourself, of all yourselves." "i shan't. get out of this, colvin, and--mind your own business," retorted frank, speaking none too articulately. "old elephant hermanus said he could make rooineks run. i want him to make this _rooinek_ run--if he can." "he insulted the president," shouted the boers. "_ja_, he sang an insulting song." "now, frank, you know you did, for i heard you while i was getting ready to inspan," said colvin kershaw in his most persuasive tones. "and look here, old chap, fair-play you know is fair-play. if one of them had sung such stuff as that about the queen--rotten, contemptible stuff as it is--how long would it be before you sailed into him?" "not one bally second," replied frank briskly. "well, then--you've trodden on these chaps' corns pretty hard, and you might as well tell them you were only larking." the speaker was on tenterhooks, for he knew by experience what a difficult customer frank wenlock was to manage on the few occasions when he had had a drop too much. the chances that he would become obstreperous and provoke a general row or not were about even. but either the moral influence of his mentor was paramount, or some glimmer of the logical faculty had worked its way into frank's thoughtless but good-natured mind, and he was amenable. "_toen, kerelen_, i didn't mean anything," he called out in dutch; "i was only larking. let's have another drink all-round." "no, you don't, frank," said colvin quickly and in an undertone. "you've quite enough of that cargo on board already." by this time the horses were inspanned, and the two went among the group of boers to bid farewell. some put out a paw with more than half a scowl on their faces, others turned into the house to avoid the necessity of shaking hands with englishmen at all. among these was hermanus delport. "_ja_, wait a bit!" he growled, half aloud. "wait a bit, friend wenlock! if i don't put a bullet through you before this year is dead, i'll--i'll become an englishman." and he rubbed some raw spirit on his now fast-swelling bruises, a dark and vengeful scowl upon his heavy face. the seed scattered by andries botma had been well sown. chucking a sixpence to the ragged, yellow-skinned hottentot, who sprang away from the horses' heads, colvin whipped up, sending the buggy spinning over the flat karroo road, the dust flying up obliquely from the hoofs and wheels in a long, fan-like cloud. they were returning from schalkburg, the district town, and had a good two hours of smart driving to reach spring holt, the wenlocks' farm, before dark--for they had made a late start from the township. for the first hour frank was a bit drowsy, then, when he had pulled himself together a bit, his guide, philosopher, and friend judged it time to deliver something of a lecture. "frank, you know this won't do. i thought you had more self-control. the last two times we have been into schalkburg together you've come out boozy." "oh, hang it, old chap, it was so beastly hot! if we had started before breakfast instead of at twelve, it would have been all right. but schalkburg is such a dry hole, and you get such a thirst on!" "i don't. but you will get liquoring up with every man jack who speaks to you." "well, but--you can't refuse. and then you only go in there once in a blue moon. surely one can have a bit of a spree." "no, you needn't--not that sort of spree. and you can refuse. i often do. no--no--old chap, you can't afford to make a hottentot of yourself, and remember, you've got womenkind to look after." "er--i say, colvin, you know. don't let go anything to them about this, will you?" "of course not. don't you know me better than that? but squarely, frank, unless you undertake to get on another tack i'll never go into schalkburg with you again." "anyone would think i was a regular boozer," said frank, sulkily. "that's just what i don't want you to become. and look here, you jolly near got up the devil's own row at reichardt's. those dutchmen will spread all over the country that we were both roaring tight. besides, what if that row had come off--we should come home nice objects with our noses broken and our teeth kicked down our throats? for remember they were a round dozen, and we only two, and some of these very ones, i happen to know, are pretty tough customers. here, frank. take the reins, so long. there are a couple of fine _pauw_. think we can get any nearer?" "no. let go at them from the cart." they had just topped a light swell, and there, about two hundred and odd yards from the road, stalked the great bustards. quickly colvin slipped from the buggy, and keeping on its other side, rifle in hand, watched his chance. taking a careful and steady aim, he fired. both birds rose, and winged their flight, but, after a few yards, the hindermost half dropped, then, flopping along a little further, came heavily to the earth, where it lay with wings outspread and quite dead. "that's good!" observed colvin; "i knew he'd got it, heard the bullet `klop'." they picked up the splendid bird and regained the road. but before they had gone half a mile they made out a horseman riding furiously after them as though in pursuit. "it's old sarel van der vyver," said frank, looking back. "let's give him a gallop, eh? he looks in a devil of a rage." "no--no! we must smooth him down," answered colvin, drawing the pace in to a slow trot. very soon their pursuer galloped up, and they made out an old boer in a weather-beaten white chimney-pot hat, and wearing a bushy grey beard. he seemed, as frank had said, "in a devil of a rage," and brandished in his hand a long-barrelled martini. "_daag_, oom sarel!" called out the two in the buggy. but the old man met this amenity with a torrent of abuse. what did they mean by coming into his veldt and shooting his game without his leave, and scaring his ostriches all over the place? he did not keep game to be shot by _verdomde rooineks_, not he. and much more to the same effect. both were rather surprised. they had never been on other than the friendliest of terms with this old man, and now he was rating them as though he had never seen them before in their lives. well, here was another very significant sign of the times. but it gave colvin an idea. "take the bird, oom sarel," he said, making as though he would pull it out from the back of the buggy. "i only shot it for the fun of the thing--and besides, it was possible that andries botma might be at spring holt when we got back, and a fine _pauw_ might come in handy for the supper of the patriot." the effect of the name was magical. "_kyk_! do you know mynheer botma, then?" asked the old boer, in round-eyed astonishment. "we had a great talk together at stephanus de la rey's the other night, oom sarel," responded colvin; "but come along with us, and see if he has arrived at wenlock's to-night." this invitation the old man declined, though somewhat reluctantly. "he could not leave home," he said. "but the bird--of course they must keep it. a friend of the patriot! well, well, colvin must not mind what had been said at first. he," the speaker, "had been a little put out that day, and was growing old." then exchanging fills out of each other's pouch, they literally smoked the pipe of peace together, and parted amid much cordial handshaking. "there's a sign of the times for you, frank," said colvin as they resumed their way. "andries botma's name is one to conjure with these days. but note how his influence crops up all along the line! even old sarel van der vyver was prepared to make himself disagreeable. not a dutchman round here will hesitate to join the transvaal, if things go at all wrong with us." "i'd cut short his influence with a bullet or a rope if i were milner," growled frank. soon, in the distance, the homestead came in sight colvin dropped into silence, letting his thoughts wander forth to the welcome that awaited him, and the central figure of that welcome spelt may wenlock. he was not in love with her, yet she appealed to more than one side of his nature. she was very pretty, and very companionable; and girls of whom that could be said were very few and far between in the wildschutsberg surroundings. several of the boer girls were the first, but few of them had any ideas, being mostly of the fluffy-brained, giggling type. may was attractive to him, undeniably so, but if he tried to analyse it he decided that it was because they had been thrown so much together; and if he had evoked any partiality in her, he supposed it was for the same reason--there was no one else. "who's that likely to be, frank?" he said, as they drew near enough to make out a male figure on the stoep. "eh? who? where?" returned frank, starting up, for he was drowsy. "_maagtig_, it looks like upton, the scab-inspector. _ja_. it is." no--there was nothing lacking in the welcome that shone in may's eyes, thought colvin, as they exchanged a hand-pressure. and he was conscious of a very decided feeling of gratification; indeed he would not have been human were it otherwise. "well, upton, what's the news?" said frank, as they were outspanning, and unpacking the contents of the buggy. "is it going to be war?" "don't know. looks like it. the troops in grahamstown and king are getting ready for all they know how. man, but things are looking nasty. the dutchmen up in the rooi-ruggensberg are as bumptious as they can be. two of them wouldn't let me look at their flocks at all. i shall have to summon them, i suppose." the duties of the speaker being to overhaul periodically the flocks of all the farmers, dutch and british, within a large area, in search of the contagious and pestilential scab, it followed that he was in the way of gauging the state of feeling then prevalent. personally, he was a very popular man, wherefore the fact of his having met with active opposition was the more significant as to the state of the country. "they're just the same here," said frank. "for my part, the sooner we have a war the better. i wish our farm was somewhere else, though. we are too much in among the dutch here for things to be pleasant for the mother and may when the fun does begin." now master frank, though carefully omitting to specify what had led up to the incident of the road wherewith this chapter opens, expatiated a great deal upon the incident itself in the course of the evening, thereby drawing from his mother much reproof, uttered, however, in a tone that was more than half an admiring one. but in that of may was no note of admiration. it was all reproving. "you are much too quarrelsome, frank," she said; "i don't see anything particularly plucky in always wanting to fight people. it's a good thing you had someone to look after you." and the swift glance which accompanied this should have been eminently gratifying to the "someone" who had looked after him. "oh, if you're all down upon a chap, i shall scoot. i'm going round to give the horses a feed. coming, upton?" "_ja_," replied that worthy; and they went out. so did mrs wenlock, having something or other to see to in the kitchen. there was silence between the two thus left. colvin, sitting back in a cane chair, was contemplating the picture before him in the most complacent state of satisfaction. how pretty the girl looked bending over the ornamental work she was engaged in, the lamplight upon her wavy golden hair, the glow of freshness and health in her cheeks, the thick lashes half veiling the velvety-blue eyes! "well?" she said softly, looking up. "talk to me." "haven't got anything to say. i'm tired. i prefer to look at you instead." "you are a dear to say so," she answered. "but all the same i want livening up. i am getting a dreadful fossil--we all are--stuck away here, and never seeing a soul. i believe i shall get mother to let me go away for quite a long time. i am horribly tired of it all." "and of me?" "you know i am not." the blue eyes were very soft as they met his. a wave of feeling swept over the man. looking at her in her winning, inviting beauty as she sat there, an overwhelming impulse came upon him to claim her--to take her for his own. why should he not? he knew that it lay entirely with him. he made a movement to rise. in another moment she would be in his arms, and he would be pouring words of passion and tenderness into her ear. the door opened. "haven't those two come in yet?" said mrs wenlock briskly, as she re-entered, and quietly resumed her seat, thus unconsciously affecting a momentous crisis in two lives. was it for good or for ill? we shall see. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "you d--d englishman! be quiet. i'll knock your head off just now." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "oom paul is riding on a pig-- he falls off and hurts himself, then climbs up and rides away--" a nonsensical bit of popular doggerel. in dutch it makes a jingling rhyme. chapter six. colvin makes a discovery. "gert." "baas?" "saddle up aasvogel after breakfast. i am going over to krantz kop." thus colvin kershaw to his henchman, gert bondelzwart. the latter was a bastard griqua--an elderly man, of good height and powerful build. he had taken part in the langeberg rising, but had been "slim" enough to slip away just in time, and had contrived to put a large section of country between himself and the scene of his former misdeeds. at this man colvin's neighbours looked askew. he had "schelm" writ large all over his yellow personality, they declared. colvin himself thought them likely to be right; but then gert suited him. he was a good servant, and had never given him any trouble. moreover, he had an idea that the fellow had, for some unaccountable reason, conceived an attachment for himself. anyway, he did not choose to part with him to please anybody. "did you hear what i said, gert?" "_ja_, sir." "then why the devil don't you answer, and go and do what i tell you, instead of standing there shaking your silly head as if a bee had stung you in the ear?" "krantz kop is up at the far end of the _berg_, sir. boer _menschen_ up there very _kwaai_." "well? what's that to you? i didn't say i wanted an after-rider." "gideon roux very _schelm_ boer, sir. strange things happen at krantz kop." "oh, go away, gert. get in aasvogel from the camp--no, he's still in the stable. well, give him another bundle, so long." "what am i to ride, sir?" "you to ride? confound you, i said i didn't want an after-rider." "i would like to go with baas." something about the persistency of the man struck colvin. this yellow-skinned henchman of his was a wonderful fellow, and there was precious little he didn't know. well, he would take him. "you can go then, gert. you'll have to ride pansy, and she's in a camp full of _kwaai_ birds. cobus and the others can help get her out--but hurry up, for i don't want to be kept waiting." colvin turned into his house and sat down to his solitary breakfast, waited upon by gert's wife, a middle-aged well-looking woman, as neat in her attire and person as the table arrangements were scrupulously clean and well served; a very jewel of a housekeeper, he was wont to declare, for a miserable bachelor establishment in the karroo. the house itself was of no great pretensions--being merely a type of a not very well-to-do farmer's residence--it having just passed out of the possession of that class of boer. but there was plenty of room in it, and it could easily be improved, if its present owner made up his mind to remain on in it. and, indeed, it was a matter not very far from foreign to the question of improving and remaining on in it that was occupying the said owner's mind as he sat alone at breakfast that morning. how would may wenlock look in her bright, sweet freshness, making a second at that solitary table? her personality seemed to be creeping more and more into his life. why did he not ask her to share it, the more so that he had no doubt as to what the answer would be? he was not a conceited man, but he was a fairly experienced and clear-sighted one, and would have been a born fool had he failed to perceive that the girl was more than partial to him. propinquity--that is, opportunity--has much to answer for. they had been thrown together a great deal, for have we not said that he had spent some time with the wenlocks while looking about for a farm of his own? moreover, he had come there handicapped by a kind of spurious heroic glamour, in that he was supposed to have saved frank's life on one occasion in the matopo hills, what time they were hotly pressed by the matabele, and that rash youth had chosen to hang back when he should have been retiring with the column. he had collected half a dozen volunteers and brought him out just in time. to his own mind it had been all in the day's work, but others had seen fit to make a great deal more of it than it seemed to deserve. of course the girl had begun by making a sort of hero of him. again, he himself personally was the kind of man that women take to--cultured, travelled, well-bred, and full of _savoir vivre_. it would have been strange if, considering the life the girl led, the few men she saw, of her own nationality at least--for although several of the young dutch men around were both well-looking and well educated, she could not take to them--she should come to think a great deal of her brother's friend, and their only english neighbour. hence the intimacy that had grown and ripened between them. now he sat there thinking everything out. how near he had been only the evening before last to asking her to share his life! a fraction of a moment more would have done it, but for the interruption--timely or otherwise. which was it? he loved her--how indeed could he help doing so, when in addition to all her attractions she was always so sweet and lovable to him? but he was not _in love_ with her. he had passed the age for "falling in love;" had reached that wherein men become wholesomely critical. may wenlock _as_ may wenlock was one personality--and a very charming and alluring personality at that may wenlock with a proprietary interest, and a legally signed and sealed vested right in himself, was another. he had not been slow to descry in her a very strong spice of natural temper and wilfulness; and although now her demeanour towards himself was invariably sweet and winning, would it always be so? and this was a side of the picture which did not allure. propinquity! he had seen repeated instances, of the results of this, had even experienced some. the girl or, woman who "could not live without you" to-day might be voting you a bore of the first water by this time next year, or even earlier. personally he had never felt disposed to find fault with this development. it cut both ways, as often as not in point of fact, his experience told him. but on one occasion, long years ago, it had not. he had been hard hit, and the process had left a bruise, a scar, not readily obliterated. now, however, applying the recollection of that case to this, he decided that the symptoms were wanting. he was not in love with may, much as her presence appealed to him, and yet the consciousness of what he knew his presence meant to her afforded him a gratification he would not have been human had he not experienced. preferentially, too, he was not inclined to embark in matrimony. he had seen too much of it--too many instances of the weary humdrum chain thus riveted, the welding together of two lives into a deteriorating round of petty frictions which it furnished. but in this instance there was a still greater and, to his mind, more fatal bar. with all the advantages, the free and easy social code, and republican waiving of social distinctions which colonial life afforded, the fact remained that the wenlocks were some little way from being his social equals. and he was a great believer in birth and breeding. in which connection he could not but admit to himself that the mere fact of the interruption by mrs wenlock of their _tete-a-tete_ the other evening had jarred less upon him than a something in her tone and speech when effecting it. more uneasily still, he was constrained to admit that he had on certain rare occasions detected manifestations of lack of breeding in may herself, such indeed as he had never traced a sign of, at any time or under any circumstances, in the de la rey girls for instance, or in any member of that family. and yet stephanus de la rey was "only a boer." at this juncture the sound of horse hoofs outside cut short his meditations. the morning air was fresh and keen, and aasvogel, a tall, deep-shouldered iron-grey, having been stabled for some days, gave him plenty to take care of when first mounted. but colvin was fond of riding, so presently, letting out the powerful animal for all he wanted over the wide karroo plains, a sense of keen joyous exhilaration scattered all serious thought to the four winds of heaven. soon the plain was left behind, giving way to a steep, rugged mountain-road winding between the spurs. higher and higher it led, overhung by craggy cliffs, resonant with the shrill scream of the _dasje_ and the loud hoarse bark of the sentinel baboon. "look there, baas," said gert bondelzwart, pointing to a cleft which ran up into a krantz where the slope ended not very high overhead. "that is where gideon roux shot a kafir. he is a _schelm_ boer is gideon roux." "was it during the war?" "_nee, nee_, sir. the kafir had come to take away a girl gideon roux had on his place. gideon did not want her to go, but the kafir insisted--said he had been sent by her people to fetch her. so gideon had him tied to the waggon-wheel and thrashed him with an _agter os sjambok_, till he should promise not to ask for the girl any more. he would not; so gideon left him tied up all night, promising him some more sjambok in the morning. but by then the kafir had managed to get loose. he hadn't much start, though, and they hunted him with dogs. he tried to hide in that hole there, but gideon and hermanus delport they called to him to come out. he wouldn't. he had climbed on a rock inside to escape the dogs and was afraid to move. so they shot him dead." "when was this, gert, and what did they do with the body?" "about three years ago, baas, or it might have been four. do with the body? _maagtig_, sir! there are holes and pits in these mountains where you or i might conveniently disappear and never be heard of again." "are you cooking up a yam, gert, just to pass the time; for don't you know that in this country you can't shoot even a kafir and stow him comfortably away without being tried for murder and hanged?" the man shook his head, with a very humorous look upon his yellow face. it bordered almost upon amused contempt. "it can be done, sir, and it was done. all the country knows it. gideon roux and hermanus delport only laugh. not a man in the wildschutsberg or the rooi-ruggensberg would dare accuse them, or dare come forward to give evidence. _nee_, sir, not a man, white, brown, or black. there are very _schelm_ boers in these mountains, and whoever tried to stir up that affair his life would not be worth a tickey. they would shoot him as they did the kafir." colvin reined in his horse to the slowest of foot-paces, and stared at the cleft as though struck with an idea. "have you ever been into that hole, gert?" "_nee_, sir." "then how do you know there is a rock in there the kafir could jump on to escape gideon roux's dogs?" "that is the story, baas." "well, i'm going to have a look inside there. you remain here with the horses, and if anyone passes you can say i have gone after a reebok under the krantz." the ascent, though steep, was not long, and soon colvin was standing within the mouth of the hole. it was a jagged fissure--running about twenty feet into the cliff, then narrowing to a low tunnel of about ten more. yes, this was quite correct. there was a rock--or rather a boulder. colvin pictured, by the light of a flaming vesta, the hunted man standing gingerly on the apex of this to avoid the excited springs and snaps of the dogs. there was no sign, however, of any human remains-- but--wait. hallo! what was this? the tunnel, which narrowed in from the end of the fissure, was half blocked. colvin lighted another vesta, and bent down. through the piled-up dust he made out what looked like a square rectangular stone. stone? no--it was wood. it was one of three long flat packing-cases, piled one on top of the other. his nerves tingled with excitement. what discovery was he on the point of making? at any rate, whatever it might be, he would make it. now that his vision was accustomed to the semi-gloom he had no need of artificial light. the glimmering that entered from the outer day was sufficient. he hauled out the uppermost case. but how to open it? that might be done. fortunately, he was provided with a large pocket-knife, containing various appliances which included a strong screwdriver. what was he going to discover? human remains? perhaps. why, there might be others stowed away in like manner; victims of the wild and lawless inhabitants of this remote mountain district. then it occurred to him that the chest was very heavy. what on earth could it contain, and, by the way, what right had he to pry into its contents? for a moment he paused. but the curiosity and excitement attending upon this discovery were too great. possibly, even, these chests and their contents had lain there for years and years unknown to anybody--even to the owner of the wild, and stony, and scattered stock-run on which they were hidden, but remembering gert's story that did not seem likely. anyway, he would share the mystery with whoever held it. that could do no harm to anybody. the lid was strongly screwed down. a few minutes of vigorous perspiring work and it was up. whatever the contents were, they were protected by a thick wrapper of oilskin. this he proceeded to unwind, but carefully, so as to be able to replace it readily. then a quantity of tow, also well oiled, and then-- no human remains, no shining coins, no old and massive silver, no treasure of any kind met his eager gaze. but there, in the top of the box, lay several rifles in a row. he took one out, carried it as near the light of day as he dared go, and examined it. the weapon was one of the newest pattern--a mauser. the others on the top layers were all alike. allowing for the depth of the chest, he reckoned that it must contain at least a couple of dozen rifles. here was a discovery. what was the meaning of this secret armoury? there could be only one. for only one purpose could these weapons be stowed away thus in the caves of the rocks--for the arming of the rebel boers when the word went forth for them to rise, and join their brethren in the transvaal and free state, to throw off the british yoke from the zambesi to cape agulhas. replacing the rifle, he rapidly screwed down the case, and stowed it away in the hole whence he had taken it, carefully piling up the dust and loose earth against it and the others so as to obviate all trace of interference. hardly had he done so than the sound of hoof-strokes and harsh voices without struck upon his ear. peering cautiously forth, he beheld, down upon the track from which he had ascended, two armed and mounted boers, and they were in close confabulation with gert bondelzwart, his retainer. chapter seven. an evil ambush. standing there within the cave, which had now become his hiding-place, colvin kershaw was conscious of very mingled feelings. his hiding-place! why should he be in hiding? why should he not go forth? only that to do so would place his life in very serious jeopardy--not at the moment perhaps, for they would hardly venture to murder him openly and in broad daylight; besides, he had his revolver on. no, it would be afterwards, when they could waylay him at some unexpected part of the track--and what was the use of a revolver against the rifles of two or more cleverly ambushed foes? they could shoot him down without the slightest risk to themselves, and shoot him down he knew they would, and that without a moment's hesitation, once they became aware that he had discovered their perilous because treasonable secret. he would never get out of the mountains alive. nor was it reassuring when he satisfied himself as to the identity of the new arrivals, for they were none other than gideon roux himself and hermanus delport, the big dutchman who had fallen foul of frank wenlock at the roadside inn. both bore characters of evil repute. would they never go on? they were talking voluminously, but were too far off for the burden of their words to travel. the big man was holding his rifle aloft as though threatening gert with the butt thereof; but the griqua stood his ground, calm and unintimidated. would they never go on? colvin felt his position growing more and more ignominious. then again, what if they should conclude to come up and investigate? but they did not. to his intense relief they put their horses into the track again and cantered off in the direction whither he himself was bound. "very _schelm_ boer, gideon roux, sir," said gert, in reply to his master's questioning. "they asked where my baas was, and i told them gone after a reebok. they laughed over an englishman shooting reebok with a revolver, when he could not even shoot anything with a rifle. then, baas, hermanus he said i was a lying hottentot, and threatened to knock my brains out with the butt of his gun. he said hottentots and englishmen were equally liars." "well, it's of no consequence. but i'm afraid the chances of getting my money out of gideon roux to-day are very poor." "does baas want to get money out of gideon roux, then?" "of course _i_ do, you ass. he hasn't paid for those sheep yet." "one hundred and twenty-five pounds, baas. if i had ten pounds i would not offer it for the chance of that hundred and twenty-five pounds;" and gert shook his head, puckering his face into the most whimsical expression. "well, gert, i believe you're right. however, i may get some of it. but i don't think we shall see gideon. now that he knows i'm coming up he won't be at home." the contrast between ratels hoek and gideon roux' farm was about in proportion to that between their respective owners. a long, low building, with dirty whitewashed walls and thatched roof, standing against a bleak and desolate hill-slope--the front door opening in two parts--dilapidated stone kraals, situated on the slope aforesaid, so that in time of the rains all the drainage thence rushed round the back wall of the house--some draggle-tailed poultry, and two or three fever-stricken sheep--this is what colvin saw as he rode up to his destination. the while, the air was thick with an awful combination of adjacent dead goat and a partly decomposed oxhide, in process of preparation for the making of reims. even as he had expected, gideon roux was not at home. his wife, a large, fat, and albeit quite young, already shapeless person, untidy and slatternly of attire, came forward and tendered a moist paw, with the simple salutation "_daag_!" or "good-day"--an example followed by her sister, who was a replica of herself though a trifle more shapely and less slovenly but not less awkward. several brats, in varying stages of dirt, hung around, finger in mouth, gaping at the new arrival. there were some strange boers there too, with whom colvin exchanged greetings; but their manner was awkward and constrained. it was a relief to him when his hostess declared that dinner was ready. it was an appalling meal to the civilised palate and digestion that to which they now sat down. there was a stew, fearfully and wonderfully made, of leathery goat, sweetened to a nauseating point with quince jam, and, for vegetable, boiled pumpkin, containing almost as much water as pumpkin. the cloth was excessively grimy, and, worse still, bore many an ancient stain which showed that the day of its last washing must have been lost in the mists of antiquity, and there was no salt. the coffee, moreover, tasted like a decoction of split peas, and was plentifully interwoven with hair, and straw as from the thatch. the women did not sit down to table with them, but handed in the dishes from the kitchen, and then sat and waited until the men had done. through all her natural stolidity it struck colvin that both the countenance and manner of his hostess wore a flurried, not to say scared, look. she seemed to try and avoid conversation with him; and it squared with the fact of gideon roux being from home. could any information be got out of her? to this end he began to question her in an artless conversational way. "gideon will be in directly, juffrouw?" "_nee_, mynheer kershaw. he will not be in. he left home yesterday morning and i do not expect him back until to-morrow night." "_so_? that is strange. why, i thought i saw him just now, the other side of the _poort_--just half an hour's ride from here. he was coming in this direction too." "_nee, nee_--that cannot be." and the look of alarm upon the woman's face seemed to deepen. "strange that. why, i even recognised the man who was riding with him. it looked like hermanus delport." there was no mistaking the effect this time. she looked downright hideously scared. it could not be, she reiterated. he must have been mistaken. and then to cover her confusion she turned away to a cupboard, and, unlocking it, brought out a decanter of boer brandy, which she placed upon the table. "_maagtig, kerel_!" cried one of the dutchmen, seizing the bottle gleefully, and pouring out a copious _soepje_. "it is true you must have been seeing _spoeks_. the _poort_ is said to be haunted, you know." colvin fell into the humour of the thing seemingly, and replied in like bantering vein. but he was thinking the while, and thinking hard. the fear evinced by gideon roux' wife would not be manifested by a stolid practical boer woman under the mere circumstances of a neighbour having come to press her husband for the payment of a by no means ruinous debt. it was something deeper than that. it was more like the demeanour of a naturally respectable and law-abiding person who was made the involuntary sharer of some grim and terrible secret, which she dared neither to divulge nor even hint at. it set him thinking, and the burden of his thoughts was that his return home should be effected as much as possible by daylight, and as far as possible by a different route. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ now, gideon roux was no fool of a boer, neither was his confederate hermanus delport, consequently, having disappeared over the neck in the direction of the former's home, they proceeded to execute a backward manoeuvre. leaving their horses standing about twenty yards the other side, and well out of sight, they stealthily retraced their steps until they could gain a point which commanded a view of gert bondelzwart and the two horses under his charge. not long had they been there before they saw all they wanted to see. they saw colvin emerge from the cave under the krantz, and descend to where he had left his servant. but they did not wait until he had rejoined the latter. mounting their horses, they sent those astonished animals along at a break-neck gallop, which brought them to the homestead fully twenty minutes earlier than the expected visitor. it took them less than five to execute their next move, which was to exchange their long martinis for a mauser rifle apiece--a weapon which had not then, openly at any rate, reached the wildschutsberg section of country, and which they fished out from some hidden recess. cartridges and a bottle of `dop' they placed in a haversack, and with a significant injunction to their fellow-countrymen there gathered, to keep the englishman talking and making merry as late as possible, they rode off into the veldt again, taking a line which would put them out of sight of the house in about three minutes. "he knows too much, that damned englishman," snarled gideon roux, shading a match to light his pipe, while his steed took him along at a fast "triple." he was a sinister-looking, swarthy-faced boer, with a short black beard and a great hooked nose like the beak of a bird of prey. "we must teach him--him and his hottentot--not to come pushing his snout into other people's affairs." "that is so," assented the other. "but, gideon, what if there is a noise made about it, and they are found afterwards? the english will hang us. and he is a friend of oom stephanus." "_maagtig_! by the time they are found the english will not be here to hang anybody, and we, _ou' maat_ [old chum]--we shall have deserved the thanks of all true patriots for having put out of the way an enemy of our country. oom stephanus--well, he is a patriot now, his own nephew, adrian de la rey, told me so. what is one cursed englishman more than another to a good patriot. he cannot be a friend to such." "that is so," replied the big boer laconically. for about an hour they kept on their way, and their way was a rough one, for they avoided the regular track, winding in and out among the mountains, now putting their horses up a steep boulder-strewn slope, then being obliged to dismount in order to lead the animals down a kind of natural rock staircase. finally, they drew rein upon a neck, where, lying between two great boulders, themselves utterly invisible from below, they could command the broken, winding, rocky track for some little distance, either way. "he cannot be here yet," said gideon roux as he scanned the road, which, like a snake, wound along the valley beneath. "hans vermaak will see to that. only, i hope katrina will not let them have too much to drink. hans is quite fool enough to get drunk and jolly, and insist on the englishman stopping the night hans is the devil to drink, and then he becomes jolly. that is where he is such a fool." they hid the horses well down over the other side of the ridge, lest the approach of the other animals should cause them to neigh, then returned to their positions under the rocks. the road was about three hundred yards beneath, and on the other side of it was the river bed, now dry. this circumstance, too, came into the strategy of the murderous pair. "see now, mani," [hermanus abbreviated], said gideon roux. "if we shoot as we always shoot, both will drop into the river bed. and to-night," looking upward at a black cloud which was thickly and gradually spreading, "the river will come down. i will take the englishman, and you take the hottentot." "_ja_, but i am not so sure with these damned mausers," growled hermanus delport, looking up and down his weapon. "i might miss--then where would we be? we had better have kept to our old martinis. we understand them." "_nee, nee_. it comes to the same thing, i tell you, and if you miss you can go on shooting until you _raak_. i know _i_ shan't miss. _maagtig, kerel_! what are you doing? put away that pipe!" but hermanus protested he was not going to do without his smoke for all the adjectival english in africa or in england either, and it took at least ten minutes of his confederate's time and talk to persuade him that not only the spark but the smoke of a pipe was visible for any distance in the clear, yet half-gloomy atmosphere then prevailing. for the leaden lour of the heavens pointed to the coming of a storm. in effect the surroundings were very much in harmony with the dark deed of blood which these two miscreants were here to perpetrate. the wild and rugged recesses of the wildschutsbergen, sparsely inhabited and but seldom travelled, spread around in grim, forbidding desolation. great krantzes towered skyward, rearing up from the apex of smooth boulder-strewn grass slopes, and here and there a lofty coffee-canister shaped cone, turret-headed, and belted round with the same smooth cliff-face, stood like a giant sentinel. below, the valleys, deep and rugged, seamed with dongas, and that through which the track lay, skirting the now dry bed of the sneeuw river. no sign of life was upon this abode of desolation; no grazing flock, or stray _klompje_ of horses, not even a bird, springing chirruping from the grass; and away yonder the further crags stood against a background of inky cloud, which, gradually working nearer, amid low mutterings of thunder, was bringing the storm which should act as accomplice in hiding the slain victims of the two ambushed murderers. "that is right," chuckled gideon roux, rubbing his hands. "the river will come down to-night like the devil. by this time to-morrow the englishman and his hottentot will be nearly at the sea. it is hundreds of miles off, but a flooded river travels as quick as a train." "what if they are stranded half-way?" said the other, with an evil sneer. "then the jackals will eat them. either way it matters nothing." darker and darker it grew. the storm cloud began to throw out loose masses of flying scud, through which the moon now and again shone out in fitful gleam. still, to these two their prey came not in sight. "i like not this," growled hermanus. "this is no light to shoot by. we may miss one or both, and to miss one is as bad as to miss both. besides, the river may not take them down after all. we two may be hanged for to-night's work, gideon." "hanged? oh, yes! see now, mani, why i would have it done with mausers. their bullet makes a small hole, our martini bullet makes a large hole. and there is not a mauser or a lee-metford in the wildschutsberg. afterwards our guns are examined, and they are the old martinis. our bullet does not fit the hole. now, do you not see, you _eselkop_?" "_ja_, i see. but--_stil, man_. here they come." a clink of the hoof of a shod horse coming down the track was borne faintly upward. the two assassins crouched in their ambush, a tigerish glare in their eyes. their pieces were levelled. "ready, hermanus," whispered gideon roux. "when they come six paces the other side of yon white stone, then shoot." chapter eight. tragical--and aletta. hans vermaak had and had not carried out his instructions; which is to say that in so far as he had he had done so by halves. by nature he was a genial soul was hans vermaak, by inclination a jovial one. he would not wantonly have hurt a fly or an englishman, let alone so companionable a one as colvin kershaw; but then the terrible point to which racial hatred was worked up had engendered a feverish thirst for conspiring that was almost celtic, in the stolid and pre-eminently practical boer. the discovery of the concealed arms would be a serious thing, a very serious thing, but of its seriousness, great as that was, they took an exaggerated view. inherently the boer is a great respecter of the law and of the person of its representative or representatives, and most of these were sufficiently unsophisticated to look upon their undoubtedly treasonable proceeding as a hanging matter if brought to the notice of the authorities. hence none felt any qualm as to the strong measures to be adopted towards the hostile sharer of the secret. _in vino veritas_! when we say that none felt a qualm we should have exempted hans vermaak--in his cups. the misgiving expressed by gideon roux as to the potential liberality of his spouse in the matter of the grog was not unfounded. there was enough in the bottle to make three dutchmen--two would not partake--very lively, and the liveliest of all was hans vermaak. he became, moreover, enormously fraternal towards colvin, who was deftly drawing him out, and finally did exactly as gideon roux had predicted, insisted upon his remaining the night, for he, hans, was gideon's brother-in-law, and therefore one of the family. he forgot the patriot cause, and only remembered it to declare that this was too good an englishman to be shot, and so forth, which declaration under ordinary circumstances might mean nothing, but read by the light of subsequent events and the speaker's manner, colvin took to mean rather a great deal. the latter made several futile attempts at getting away, and at length succeeded. he himself, although he had borne his share, was in no wise affected by the liquor he had been taking--for the matter of that he could have drunk the lot of them under the table over and over again-- and throughout the talk, which became more and more boisterous and unguarded, had kept an ear open and an eye keenly alive to every sign. but by the time he did break loose, and gert was standing before the door with the horses saddled up, he realised that the more prudential side of his resolution had failed and that an infinitesimal portion of his homeward journey would be accomplished by daylight. he had bidden good-bye all-round--not failing to observe during the process the awful look of scare upon the face of his hostess as she just touched his hand with a limp, moist paw. he had paced his horse about a hundred yards from the door, not sorry to see the last of the frowsy, dirty place, when he heard his name called. turning in the saddle, he beheld the genial hans hurrying towards him. "which way do you go home by?" said the dutchman, somewhat flurriedly. "oh, the usual way, hans." "_so_? you are going home, then." "oh yes." "but you must not. klip poort is bad to go through at night _ja_, it is bad, very bad. go some other road. there is the road to stephanus de la rey's, for instance. go by it." "but it is about twice the distance," objected colvin, who began to read considerable meaning into the other's anxiety regarding his movements. "that matters nothing. look, you are a good sort of englishman and i like you. klip poort is bad to go through at night, very bad." "very well, hans, i'll take your advice. so long." klip poort, the point referred to, was a narrow, rugged defile overhung with large rocks, about five miles on his homeward way. as well as the road passing through, it likewise gave passage to the sneeuw river, which, when full to any great extent, flooded the roadway to some depth. it might very well be to this form of danger that the boer's hidden warning applied, and yet some unaccountable instinct warned colvin that it was not. "gert." "baas?" "did you hear what hans vermaak was saying just now?" "part of it, sir." "why do you think he wanted us not to go back by way of klip poort?" "i don't know, sir." "gert, you are an ass." "perhaps he thought the river might be `down,' sir. the clouds are very thick and black up in the _bergen_." "yes." an indescribable feeling of helpless apprehensiveness came over colvin, and indeed it is a creepy thing the consciousness that at any step during the next half-dozen miles or so you are a target for a concealed enemy whose marksmanship is unerring. for this was about what he had reduced the situation to in his own mind, and within the same heartily anathematised the foolish curiosity which had moved him to go up and explore the hiding-place of the concealed arms. that gideon roux and his confederate were aware that he shared their secret he now believed. they must have waited to watch him, and have seen him come out of the cave; and with this idea the full force of vermaak's warning came home to him. but was that warning genuine? was it not destined rather to induce him to take the other way? it was impossible to determine. sorely perplexed, he rode on, thinking the matter over, and that deeply. the sky overhead grew darker and darker with the spread of a great cloud-- the earth with the fall of evening. there was a moon, but it was obscured. by the time the rocks which marked the entrance to the poort came into view it was already night. two ways branched here--one his ordinary way home, the other that which hans vermaak had urged him to take. some twenty feet down, at the bottom of a precipitous slope, was the river bed, dry save for a shallow, stagnant reach here and there. which way should he take? now was the time to decide. "get on, aasvogel, you fool! ah, would you, then?" this to his horse, accompanied by a sharp rowelling with each heel. for the animal had stopped short with a suddenness calculated to unseat and certainly irritate the rider, and was backing and shying like the panic-stricken idiot it was; the cause of all this fluster being a white stone standing almost vertically up from the roadside, in the gloom looking for all the world like the traditional ghost. "whigge--whirr!" something hummed through the air, and that so near he could feel the draught. two jets of flame had darted forth from the hillside above, simultaneously with a dry, double crack. two more followed, but had it been a hundred colvin was utterly powerless to investigate, for his horse, which had already sprung forward beneath the sharp dig of the spurs, now took to wild and frantic flight, and for some moments was completely out of hand. by the time he got it in hand again he had been carried a good mile from the scene of this startling though not wholly unexpected occurrence. two things came into colvin's mind, as eventually he reined in his panting, snorting steed. one of the bullets, at any rate, had missed him very narrowly, but by just the distance the animal had backed when shying from the ghostly object which had scared it; and but for the fact of his being a first-rate rider the suddenness of the bolt would have unseated him, and he would now be lying in the road at the mercy of his would-be assassins. but--where was gert? he looked around. the clouds had parted a little and the moon was visible through a rift thus formed; indeed it was the sudden flash of the moonlight upon the white stone that had so terrified the horse at first. the light revealed the mountain slopes rising up around, but of his servant there was no sign. he listened intently. no sound, save the creaking of the saddle, caused by the violently heaving flanks of his panting steed, and now and again a mutter of distant thunder away up in the mountains. where was gert? dismounting, he led the animal a little way off the road, and sat down under a large boulder to think out the situation. the warning of hans vermaak again came into his mind. it looked genuine as viewed by subsequent lights, but whether it was so or not, it was useless, for the murderers had altered their original plan, clearly resolving to provide against the contingency of his choosing the other of the two roads, by shooting him before he should come to the point where these parted. well, they had not shot him, but it had been a narrow shave--very. but if they had not shot him had they shot gert? it looked uncommonly like it. only the four shots had been fired--of that he felt certain-- but since his horse had taken matters into its own hands, or, rather, legs, he had obtained neither sight nor sound of gert. seated there in the darkness, he was conscious of a very considerable feeling of indignation begotten of a dual reason--that he had had a mean advantage taken of him, and that his property, in the person of gert bondelzwart, had been interfered with. what was to be done next? should he go back? to do so would be to commit an act of fatal rashness, for it would be to expose himself once more to the fire of his concealed cowardly foes, who would not be likely to let slip a second opportunity. true, he had his revolver, but not for a moment would they be likely to come near enough to give him any chance of using it. no--to go back would be simply throwing away his life. had it been a white man and a comrade, he would unhesitatingly have done so. but gert was a griqua, and, though not exactly a savage, had all the cunning and resource and endurance of generations of savage ancestry. if he were alive, why then, amid the rocks and the darkness, he would soon elude his enemies; if he were dead, colvin did not see any sense in throwing away his own life merely to ascertain that fact. the moon had gone in, and a misty scud-wrack spreading itself overhead was creeping around the dim crags on high. there was a smell of rain in the air, and a fitful puff of wind came singing down the valley, laden with an icy breath. colvin shivered, and as he looked anxiously skyward a large drop or two of rain plashed down on his face. there would be a deluge in a moment, and he had nothing to meet it with save the clothes in which he stood up. suddenly the horse, which had been standing with its head down still panting after its race and scare, pricked up its ears and snorted, then began backing away. colvin had just time to seize the bridle-rein, or it would have been off in wild stampede. and now every vein in his body quivered with excitement. his revolver was in his hand. let them come. the chances now were something like equal. but it is not a pleasant thing to know that you are being stalked in the dark by a persistent and murderous foe; and as for some minutes no further sign occurred the excitement became dashed with something like apprehension, then succeeded a feeling of relief. the horse had been scared by one of the ordinary sights of the veldt--a sneaking jackal-- perhaps a meerkat--in short, anything moving will startle a horse in the dark, let alone one so thoroughly "in the dispositions" for panic as this one now was. but just then a renewed snort, accompanied by a plunge and a violent tugging at the bridle-rein, set all colvin's pulses bounding again; and though he endeavoured to do so silently, so as not to betray his exact whereabouts, the hammer of his pistol, as he drew it up, gave forth a sharp click upon the stillness. out of the darkness came a voice--a beseeching voice--saying in boer dutch: "nay, baas, don't shoot. my well-loved baas, don't shoot." "gert, you fool, come here." "yes, it is gert, baas," answered the voice in a tone of intense delight and relief. "_maagtig_! i thought it was those _schelm_ boers. i thought you were shot. i thought i was shot. i thought we were all shot." "well, we are not. but where is pansy?" "she was shot, baas. ah, the poor mare! she just sank down in the road with her legs under her. i had hardly time to roll off when she was up again, gave a stagger, and toppled over into the river bed. i crouched down in the _sluit_ by the roadside and lay perfectly still--still as a hare--until the moon went in again. then i crept away. _ja_, it was a fearful time. i thought i could feel the bullets through me every minute. _maagtig_! but he is a _schelm_ boer is gideon roux." "gideon roux? why do you think it was gideon roux, gert?" "it was, baas. he and hermanus delport. i would swear to it," rejoined the griqua excitedly. "they looked murder when they were talking to me. there was murder in their faces, _ja_, it is those two." colvin cursed to himself, and vowed revenge. he was fond of his horses, and these two rascals had shot one of his best. at the same time he owned to himself ruefully that the chance of carrying out such vengeance was remote. at present he was far more an object for their vengeance than they for his. "come now, gert, we must get along. lay hold of my stirrup-leather and trot alongside." they got into the road again, but with the moon behind the cloud and the rain that was beginning to fall it became very dark. what if the vindictive dutchmen, guessing they had failed, were to take a short cut behind the ridge and _voerlij_ them further down? the thought was unpleasant, to put it mildly. now there was a whirl and a roar in the air, and, in an icy blast, the rain swooped down in torrents. colvin, destitute of macintosh or wrap of any kind, was soaked through and through in about two minutes, and shivered exceedingly. fortunately the deluge was behind him, or, coming down obliquely as it did, aasvogel could hardly have made headway against it. now and then a vivid flash of lightning gleamed forth, showing the sheer of the great crags overhead and the glistening slopes studded with wet stones. "hurry up, gert. put your best foot forward, man. we have to race the river this shot. the ratels hoek drift will be running twelve feet deep before we get there if we don't look smart." and the griqua, puffing and perspiring, did put his best foot forward. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ stephanus de la rey, having just finished his supper, had come out on to the stoep to look at the weather. the deluge of the last hour had subsided, but the clouds, black as ink and unbroken, gave promise of a repetition of the same. "aha!" he said, gleefully to himself. "the drought is at an end. the river is already coming down well, and the dams must be overflowing. i shall pump a lot of water on to the lucerne beds to-morrow. but--what is that?" the clink of shod horse hoofs came upon the wind through the swirl and roar of the fast-swelling river. he stood listening intently. the sound ceased, then arose again, now on this side of the drift. the next moment a very soaked and dripping horseman emerged into the light of the windows, and beside him trotted a pedestrian, no less soaked and dripping, but very much blown. "why, colvin, where are you from? _maagtig, kerel_! but you are wet," he cried. then raising his voice: "windvogel, swaartbooi. turn out, you _schepsels_, and take the baas' horse." "wet? i'm nearly dead with cold, stephanus. so bring along a _soepje_, old chap, and let's get to a fire and dry myself." "dry yourself? it's dry clothes you have to get into. come this way. my _volk_ will see to your horse. here now, what can we get you into? my things are too wide for you, cornelis' and jan's are too small. you will have to get into some of mine." and having dragged out of a drawer a complete refit for his guest, whom he had marched straight into his own room, the genial dutchman went out and reappeared in a moment with a decanter of excellent "dop" and glasses. "that's grand!" ejaculated colvin, fortifying himself with a liberal _soepje_ during the changing process. but not yet was he going to impart his adventures to his host. the latter had a great laugh over his attempts to carry off the fit of clothes that were both too long and too wide. "well, no matter," he said. "you are dry, at any rate, and by this time warm. so come along in and have some supper." colvin followed his host into the dining-room. the evening meal was just over, but already a place had been cleared and laid for him. as he shook hands with mrs de la rey, he noticed a girl--one he did not recollect ever having seen before. she was just receiving a dish from a hottentot servant, and arranging it on the table at the place laid for him. then, turning, she came up to him, with outstretched hand, and a bright smile of cordial welcome on her face. "oh, i had forgotten," said stephanus. "you two have not met before. colvin, this is my eldest girl--aletta." chapter nine. "only a boer girl." a vision of the portraits flashed through colvin's mind--the portraits at which he had so often looked, with but faint interest, representing as they did a heavy-looking awkward girl, with hunched shoulders, whom he had set down in his own mind as a mere squat, ugly replica of condaas. one of the portraits itself stared him in the face even now, over and beyond the shoulder of its original. and this was the original! he saw before him a tall and graceful girl, straight as a dart. her head, slightly thrown back, as she greeted him with frank and self-possessed composure, was beautifully poised, and crowned with a bounteous coil of silky brown hair. she had lustrous hazel eyes, which could light up in a wonderful way when animated, and a fresh and delicate colour. he noticed, too, that the hand which he took in his was long and soft and tapering--in short, she looked thoroughbred from head to heel, and yet, judged by the most ordinary canons of beauty, he recognised that aletta de la rey was not even pretty. her features were lacking. they were not regular, and the mouth was somewhat too large. but it was redeemed by white and even teeth, and a way of rippling into a sudden, whole-hearted, and very musical laugh; indeed, the whole expression of her face would light up in a way that rendered it subtly but most unequivocally taking and attractive. now, as she greeted colvin kershaw for the first time a gleam of just that sudden mirth shot from her eyes. he, reading it aright, became alive to the fact that he did not show to his best advantage, rigged out in a suit of her father's clothes, which was both too long and too wide for him, and, for once in a way, he owned, within his inner self, to a consciousness of feeling ever so slightly disconcerted. but he said quietly: "be merciful, miss de la rey. at any rate, i am dry and warm after my soaking, for which i feel devoutly grateful." the colour rushed into aletta's face as a very wave, but the laugh did not go out of her eyes; on the contrary, it intensified in its struggle not to break forth. "what a thought-reader you are, mr kershaw!" she answered. "but, don't--please don't think me very rude, but--i've--i've heard so much about you that--i seem to know you well already--" and then the laugh would no longer be kept down. it broke forth in a merry, hearty, silvery peal. "aletta!" cried her mother, horror-stricken. "how can you be so rude? what will mr kershaw think of you? and when are you going to begin and pour out his coffee for him?" but, whatever colvin thought or did not think, there was something so entirely infectious in that laugh that he was joining in it himself with a whole-heartedness which left nothing to be desired; and there was the strange spectacle of two people who had just met for the first time, laughing--as they afterwards put it to each other--like a pair of idiots, one at the other, and that other joining heartily in the joke against himself. "it's--it's all right, miss de la rey," said the latter, when sufficiently recovered to be able to speak coherently. "i am glad to hear you say you seem to know me so well already, because in that case you wilt know that i like nothing better than to be treated as one of the family." it was a tactful speech, and the girl looked thoroughly capable of appreciating it. so, too, was her mother, who remarked: "it's so good of you to say so, mr kershaw. really, i don't know what has come over aletta. they don't seem to have improved at all in cape town." colvin, to himself, opined that they rather had; indeed, exhaustively so, remembering the weird impression of her set up within his mind by the portraits taken before she left for that capital. he knew, however, that the tone in which this reproach was conveyed took the sting out of the words, which, indeed, it clean belied. "i didn't know that your eldest daughter was even expected back, mrs de la rey," he said. "no? aletta came back rather suddenly, and she has come back with all sorts of notions she had better have left behind. of course, all our people down there belong to the bond, and we support the bond ourselves. yet politics and war-talk over and over again are not fit subjects for girls." "now, mother, you are far too old-fashioned. i am going to brush you quite up to date," answered aletta brightly, but in a sort of caressing tone. "and you must not start mr kershaw with a bad opinion of me, like that. it isn't fair." colvin owned to himself that that would be difficult, inasmuch as he had started with too good a one on sight and his own responsibility. he had been observing her narrowly while he sat there thoroughly enjoying an excellent supper, and already had not failed to notice that she had a soft and perfectly refined voice and pretty ways. unlike the others, her english was without accent, save for the little tricks of speech by which you may pick out a born cape colonist in any crowd, such as clipping the final "r," or ever so slight a hardening of the vowel at the beginning of the word, and others; tricks of speech which are not unpleasing, and are, moreover, as fully prevalent among children born in the colony, of emigrated english parents and without a drop of dutch blood in them. "but where are the other girls, mrs de la rey?" he asked. "away. they went to stay with their uncle, piet venter, for a few days just before we knew aletta was coming back. they will be home to-morrow, or as soon as he can bring them." "who is that talking over there?" croaked a feminine voice from a far corner, in dutch--a voice that sounded both irritable and antique. "it seems like that of an englishman. nay--i don't know what this good land of ours is coming to. the tongue our fathers spoke with before us was good enough for me in my young days. now everybody must be chattering in english--a tongue only fit for baboons." "it is tant' plessis," said mrs de la rey in english and an undertone, "a sort of distant cousin of stephanus'; i had forgotten she was in the room. she doesn't say a word for a whole day, sometimes." colvin, who had now finished his meal, went over to the speaker, who was seated in a huge armchair in a dark corner. she was a typical old-time boer _vrouw_, large-faced, heavy, and shapeless. she had small eyes, and her thin hair, which, however, was still almost black, was plastered down flat upon her head. "_daag, tanta_," [good-day, aunt] he said, extending his hand. the old woman stared at him for a moment in a sort of semi-distrustful, semi-resentful way, then touched it with a flabby paw. "_daag, neef_," [good-day, nephew] she replied, then subsided, leaving the other to carry on the conversation--which he did, descanting mainly upon the fine rain which was still falling. she cut him short ruthlessly by calling out: "gertruida, who is he?" mrs de la rey, thus invoked, came over to explain. "ah, yes. an englishman! i could have seen that by the way he talks. he does not talk well." colvin, glancing round sedately, caught the flash of mirth which had begun to light up aletta's face. he thought there was some fun coming directly. "who is he? what is his name?" she went on. "it's mr kershaw, tanta," explained mrs de la rey. "he often comes here." "i asked what his name was," shrilled the old woman, bringing the end of her stick down hard upon the floor. "is it abram kershaw, or izaak kershaw, or what is it?" "no, tanta. it's colvin--colvin kershaw," replied that worthy himself, conscious of something between a gurgle and a sob in the direction of aletta. "calvin. oh, yes. calvin--calvinus, that is. you have a good name, nephew. _ja_, i have often heard the _predikant_ talk of calvinus--and preach about him too. johan was his first name. _ja_, he was a good man was calvinus. he killed a great many roman catholics--burnt them all. i have often heard mynheer say so." the gurgling in aletta's direction was now becoming convulsive. colvin himself was inconveniently infected. "perhaps you are of his family, nephew," went on tant' plessis. "his grandson, perhaps? you must be of his family if you have his name. well, follow in his footsteps--though to be sure there could not be such a good and great man as calvinus. he burnt ever so many roman catholics. i've heard mynheer say so; and if he does not know, who does?" this was too much. aletta fairly broke down, and, striving to flee from the room in blind precipitation, was brought up in the doorway by the stalwart and substantial proportions of her father, who was entering, and against whom she collided violently. "so--so! what fun is on now?" cried stephanus, at once infected by her mirth. "aletta, you are a very wicked little girl. you are always laughing. only wicked little girls always laugh, and at their elders too, i believe. what is it, tanta? you have been amusing the child?" this was carrying the war into the enemy's camp with a vengeance. "_nee_--_nee_! i have not been amusing anybody," replied the old lady very testily. "i do not know what girls are coming to in these days-- jabbering nothing but english--a tongue only fit for baboons--and laughing at their elders." "softly, softly, tanta. there is an englishman here!" expostulated stephanus, with a wink at colvin. "_ja_, i know there is," was the still more testy reply. "but he is not like other englishmen. his name is calvin. he is of the family of that good man calvinus, who burnt ever so many roman catholics. he did. ask mynheer if he did not. i have heard him say so ever so many times, both in church and out. and he ought to know. i have been telling this englishman i hoped he would ever remember his grandfather's example." "let the joke stand, stephanus," said colvin in an undertone. "it's about the very best i've heard for such a long time." but the next utterance put forward by this weird old party was destined to prove somewhat less amusing--to the object thereof, at any rate. "when is this englishman going to marry wenlock's sister?" she blared out, during an interval of profound silence, and talking sublimely past the object of the remark. "when is it to be, gertruida?" poor mrs de la rey grew red with confusion. "what are you saying, tanta?" she stammered. "what am i saying? why, he is engaged to her. several people have told me. of course he is. she is the only english girl here, and he is the only englishman. so of course they are engaged. that settles it." "but, tanta, i assure you i am not engaged to anybody," struck in colvin. coming on the top of his own meditations only that morning the remark jarred on him. somehow, being made as it was this evening, it more than doubly jarred on him, why, he could not have told then, but he knew afterwards. "not engaged to her?" repeated this antique terror. "then you ought to be. all young men ought to be married as soon as possible; it is a duty they owe to themselves and the community, and you are rather an old young man. _nee_, i do not believe you. your grandfather, the great and good calvinus, would not have said what was not true; and i have heard this from many people, so it must be true." "well, it is not true, tanta, however many people say it," said colvin, with emphasis, and an unpleasant consciousness of feeling ever so slightly foolish. aletta, he could see, was in the wildest throes of suppressed mirth, and stephanus had to flee the room and go and stand out in the pouring rain and laugh till he cried. "i tell you it is absolutely true that i am not engaged to anybody, and am not in the least likely to be." "then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, nephew," retorted the old woman, whacking the floor with her stick. "what do you suppose the good god gave you health and strength for--" "no, this is getting too thick," said colvin in an undertone. "good-night, tanta. i want to see stephanus upon some very important business before he goes to bed. good-night"; and he made for the door. the old woman subsided, nodded a little, and then made up her mind to go to bed. when she had done so colvin returned, accompanied by stephanus. aletta's bright face lit up at sight of him, and with the consciousness that she could now laugh unrestrained. "upon my word, miss de la rey," he said, "your respected relative is something of a terror. first, she wants to make me three or four hundred years old by assigning me for grandfather some historic old bore who flourished in the sixteenth or seventeenth century, i forget which. then she is eager to rush me into a haphazard matrimonial contract. no, really it is laying it on just a little too thick." "oh, it was awfully funny. but, do you know, mr kershaw, we had heard just the same thing? _we_ didn't tell her, you know, but we had heard it," said aletta, her face brimming over with mischief. "well, you heard what has no foundation in fact, what is entirely untrue," he answered, with some vague stirring over the emphasis wherewith he did answer, remembering the psychological moment of two or three nights ago. "you met the patriot here not long since, did you not, mr kershaw?" said aletta, changing the subject with perfect ease. "which patriot? there are so many patriots now," he replied. "why, _the_ patriot. the one from pretoria, of course." "andries botma? oh yes, i met him. we had some very interesting talk together. i had long wanted to see him." "but--but--you are not of us," said the girl, looking up quickly from her work-basket. "this little girl is a red-hot patriot, colvin," said stephanus, resting a large hand lightly upon the silky brown coil. "but, to be serious, i hope this will all quiet down and find its level." "of course; are we not all jolly good friends together, stephanus? we don't want to be at each other's throats at the bidding of other people." this remark brought aletta up. "but you said you had long wanted to meet the patriot, mr kershaw. why did you want to see him, then?" "because he is something unique--a really honest agitator. he means what he says and believes every word of it most thoroughly. he is full of _verve_ and fire--in a word, a strong man. his is an immensely striking personality." "well done, well done," cried aletta, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "i shall make a convert of you yet. oh yes, i shall." it became bedtime. as she gave him his candle colvin once more could not help being struck with the refined grace of aletta's every movement--the soft, clear, thoroughbred tone of her voice. she seemed somehow to have been cast in a different mould from her sisters, to whom he had always pictured her as inferior both in looks and presence. it fairly puzzled him. the tones of her voice seemed to linger long after he had retired. he had had a long, tiring, exciting day--had undergone a very narrow escape for his life--which circumstance, by the way, he had not yet mentioned to his host, being desirous to sleep on it first, and having enjoined strict silence upon his retainer--yet, now that he should have dropped into a sound, recuperative slumber, he could not. and the sole reason that he could not--as he must perforce admit to himself in the darkness and privacy of his chamber--was the recollection of this girl whom he had met but the first time that night--here, on a remote dutch farm in the wildschutsbergen. and she was "only a boer girl!" chapter ten. "if--." "well, child, and what do you think of `our only englishman'?" said mrs de la rey, as they were putting away the "early coffee" things the following morning. "i like him, mother," replied aletta. "i oughtn't to because i have heard so much about him. that is sure to start one with a prejudice against anybody. still, i think i shall. oh, wasn't tant' plessis killing about `the only englishman' and `the only english girl'? by the way, was there anything in it?" "don't ask me. _i_ don't know," laughed her mother. "only he seemed a little too anxious to deny it. one can never tell. may wenlock is a very pretty girl." "is she? i never saw her. i remember frank wenlock--a good sort of boy, but something of a lout. now, this one is ever so different." "_oh, mijn vaterland_!" grunted a voice from the armchair. "there they are, jabbering english again--a tongue only fit for baboons." mother and daughter looked round quickly, exchanged a meaning smile, and went on with their subject. they were accustomed to the old woman's growls, and took no more notice of them than if she had been a discontented child. "let's drive over and see the wenlocks one day, mother," said aletta. "i am curious to see the only english girl here. besides, i shall be able to see in a moment whether there is really any fire beneath tant' plessis' smoke. yes--that will be great fun." "what sort of ideas have you brought back with you from cape town, child?" cried mrs de la rey, apparently shocked though really intensely amused. "that's all right, old mother. i have become `advanced'--in fact, down there everybody took me for an english girl. and i have learnt to ride a bicycle. no, really, i wish i had one here. only imagine tanta's face if i went skimming along the road there down to the gate and back on two wheels. heavens, i believe it would kill her. she'd get a fit," and again that silvery peal rang out long and clear. "aletta! don't make such a noise, child. why, you have quite startled mr kershaw--look, away down there at the bottom of the garden. he is looking up this way, quite startled." "is he? where? oh, i see," following her mother's glance through the window. "i think i'll go and talk to him. he is going to be fun, i believe. you know, i like the english--those of the better sort-- although i am a thorough patriot. this one is of the better sort--you can tell directly you see him, and you can hear it directly he opens his mouth. oh _yes_, i've seen lots of them. yes, i shall go and talk to him." away she went, singing to herself. her mother could see her through the window, stopping here and there to pick a flower or train up a drooping bough. colvin did not seem aware of her approach. his head was bent down, and he seemed to be filling a pipe. "gertruida!" mrs de la rey turned with a start. "what is it, tanta?" "where has the girl gone?" "who? aletta?" "who? aletta? what other girl has just gone out, i would like to know?" snapped tant' plessis, bringing down her stick hard upon the floor. "where has she gone?" "gone? only to look at the garden after the rain," answered poor mrs de la rey, somewhat guiltily. "now you are lying, gertruida," rapped out the old woman. "ah, if i could only give you the _strop_ again as i used to do when you were a child!" shaking her stick viciously. "you, a mother of a grown-up family, to lie like that. really you are a case to bring before mynheer and the kerkraad [church council]. you know perfectly well that that girl has gone out to flirt with the englishman." "she has not, tant' plessis. you have no right to say such things," retorted mrs de la rey, stung to momentary wrath. "it is you who are saying what is not true about my child." "_stil, stil_! so that is the result of all the _strop_ i used to give you, gertruida--to call your elders liars! you think i know no english. i do, although i would sooner die than speak the accursed tongue. i heard aletta say she was going out to flirt with the englishman." "she didn't say `flirt,' tanta. she said `talk.'" "well, well! what is the difference, i would like to know? to go out like that--to go up to a man and talk with him all alone in a garden! so that is the result of sending her to learn english ways. english ways, indeed! no wonder the english were made, like the heathen of old, to fall before the rifles of the patriots. they were. i have heard mynheer say so, and if he doesn't know, who does?" "i don't care what mynheer says--or thinks, tanta. i shall bring up my children in my own way," flashed out mrs de la rey, losing patience. "in the devil's own way you mean, gertruida," said the other, waxing very portentous and solemn. "look at my own children--five girls and seven boys. my girls got plenty of _strop_"--("surely they did!" interpolated the listener to herself)--"and now that they are married they give theirs plenty too. for what says the prophet solomon in the holy book: `spare the _strop_ and you spoil the girl.' the prophet did say that, for i have heard mynheer read it out in church." the speaker herself could scarcely read. "look at my girls. _they_ learnt no english ways." in imagination mrs de la rey did so look, and beheld five women who were exact counterparts of their proud parent, albeit younger presentments, and each owning a large brood as heavy as herself. but she had had enough of this lecture, and began to cast about for a pretext to depart. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ aletta the while was tripping down the garden path, pausing, as we have said, as though to tend the flowers had been her sole object in coming out, and as she walked she sang: "spreek, bronkersspruit, met eerbied uit; noem potchefstrom by naam. pretoria en langsnek pas, ingogo en majuba vas, waar ons verlosser met ons was, vermeld die al te saam. vermeld die al te saam." colvin kershaw pricked up his ears, but did not raise his head. for that which she was singing was a snatch of the transvaal "volkslied," the republican national anthem. she was singing it _at_ him, of course. this was really getting funny. she was quite close to him now. "ons vrye vlag geef nou onstag, die vierkleur waal in eer, en wapper oer die republiek; geen mag, geen lis, geen politiek van kaffer, brit, of jingo-kliek, haal ooit die vlag weer neer. haal ooit die vlag weer neer!" [note .] "good morning, mr kershaw. you are up early. englishmen are not fond of early rising as a rule." "good morning, miss de la rey. you seem in a vastly patriotic mood this morning. can a poor englishman by any chance do anything that comes within measurable distance of being right?" aletta laughed, but not quite in the same whole-hearted way she usually did. there was something in the look of this man, standing there, easy, good-humoured, smiling, which seemed to strike her. she had been favourably impressed with him the evening before, when he had not shown externally to the best advantage, and, whatever cheap ethicists may propound to the contrary, externals and impressions go very much hand in hand. now he was clad in his own clothes, not in scratch garments many sizes too wide for him. as she had just been telling her mother, she had seen at a glance that he was thoroughbred; now he looked more so than ever. "oh yes, he can--sometimes," she said. "you know, i like the english of a certain sort, though i detest those of another." "well, why do you bear down upon me singing an aggressive war-song--at me? _at_ me, of course." "was i?" "you know you were. you were rubbing in bronker's spruit, and ingogo, and majuba, and all that." "it's rather chilly after the rain," she said, looking around with a shiver. "but it is going to be a lovely day." her irrelevant prediction was true enough. not a cloud remained in the sky, which was deepening more and more to its vivid daylight blue, as the sun, just rising over a great ironstone krantz which crested the range beyond the river, flooded the wide valley, dissipating the faint mist engendered by the night's moisture, and causing the raindrops still lingering on the karroo bushes and scattered mimosa to scintillate like the purest diamonds. birds twittered among the willows by the dam, and in the quince hedges, and away over the wide veldt, the cock koorhaans answered each other in their shrill, barking crow, as though rejoicing in the glowing splendour of the newly-born day. "yes, i think it is," he answered. "but, to come back to what we were saying. i don't think that `volkslied' is much of a song, you know. for instance, `van kaffer, brit, of jingo-kliek' is a pretty good sample of doggerel. then, again, the whole thing is a little too pietistic for ordinary use. the tune is a fine one, but the words--well, they are a trifle poor." "are they? oh yes--and what about `god save the queen'? isn't that just as pietistic? and `confound their politics, frustrate their knavish tricks'--how is that for doggerel, eh?" and, firing up with her subject, aletta's face became quite animated, and the colour rushed over it in such wise as to render it very attractive--at least, so thought the onlooker, and secretly rejoiced in the situation, enjoying it hugely. "h'm, well, perhaps. but, doesn't it strike you, miss de la rey, that you are wasting your cartridges by blazing them into me? why, i am more than half of your way of thinking already. ask your father if i am not." the girl's face changed entirely, taking on a wondrously pleased expression. the defiant one had utterly vanished. colvin began fumbling for a match wherewith to relight his pipe, which had gone out. in reality he was thinking what there was about this girl which appealed to him so strongly. she was not even pretty. yet, standing there, tall and graceful and fresh, in the early morning; a very soul of mind looking out of her eyes with the enthusiasm born of a cherished subject, she was more--she was marvellously attractive. the strange, lingering feeling which her presence had left upon him the night before was intensified here in the prosaic morning hour. what was it? "there are patriots, however," he went on, "who are not always shining angels of light. listen now, and i'll tell you what happened to me yesterday in that connection. would you like to hear?" "of course i would." then he told her--told her everything, from the discovery of the concealed arms to the suspicious non appearance of the man he had gone to see; of hans vermaak's mysterious warning, and the subsequent ample justification thereof--the narrow escape he and his servant had had for their lives when fired upon murderously in the darkness by ambushed assailants--up to the time of his arriving at ratels hoek, when she had first seen him. told her the whole story--her--this girl whom twelve hours ago he had never seen--this girl only just out of her teens. told her, when as yet he had not told her father, a strong man of mature age, and one of his most intimate friends. why did he do it? he hardly knew himself, unless it were that something in her personality appealed to him as marking her out not merely from the rest of her sex, but from the general ruck. she listened attentively, absorbedly; her eyes fixed upon his face. "yes, that was bad," she said. "but then, you know, mr kershaw, as you english say--there are black sheep in every flock, and the people back there in the wildschutsberg are a low class of boer, very little removed from _bijwoners_ [squatter labourers]. but"--as if she had said too much and was trying to cover it--"do you not think they may have been only wanting to frighten you; to play a joke on you?" "it was a joke that cost me an uncommonly good mare," he answered. "the poor brute was plugged through and rolled into the river. i dare say she is half-way down to the sea by this time--as i and gert would have been but for, i suppose, providence." she was looking grave enough now, and for a few moments made no reply. "what are you going to do about it?" she asked. "nothing." he fancied a look of relief came into her face. she must be intensely imbued with the cause of her countrymen, with racial partisanship, he decided. "nothing? but if you think they tried to murder you?" "oh, i don't think much of that. i'm not going to bother any more about it. why should i?" "but you english are always such a--well, vindictive race. it is one of your favourite boasts that you never let anybody get the better of you-- that you are always even with them--i think that is the phrase," she said, and there was a strange look upon her face which rather puzzled him. "are we? well, here's an exception then. life is too short to bother oneself about trifles merely for the sake of `being even with' somebody. likely one of these days gideon roux will be the first to be sorry he shot at me. he needn't have done it. the cave affair and the rifles didn't concern me. i shouldn't have given it away. but he won't come down with the value of the mare, because i believe the poor devil is none too flush at any time. so what does it matter?" that strange look upon aletta's face deepened. he did not quite know how to read it. "have you told father about this?" she said. "not yet. i had meant to. i don't think i shall at all now. it doesn't seem worth while." "then why did you tell me?" "i don't know." again they stood looking at each other in silence, as though reading each other. he was thinking of how he had seen her last night--bright, sparkling, girlish--full of humour and merriment; yet even then he had judged her temperament to have another side. now his judgment was borne out. she could show herself serious, grave, judicious--in short, full of character when a matter of moment was under discussion. she for her part was thinking that of all the men she had met, and she had met many--for stephanus de la rey was connected with some of the best old dutch families at the cape, and in the society of the capital, dutch or english, aletta had not merely had the _entree_, but had been in request--she had never come into contact with one who was quite like this. he was right outside her ordinary experience. a sound of approaching hoof-strokes aroused them--on aletta's part with something of a start. a bridle path threaded the garden here, affording a considerable short cut up from the river drift, and the horseman now advancing along this had come out through the quince hedge almost upon them. in him they recognised adrian de la rey. "_daag_, aletta. i have only just heard you were home again," he said in dutch, as he sprang from his horse and shook hands with her. but colvin did not fail to notice that the young boer's greeting of himself was markedly cold, not to say grim. "so ho!" said he to himself. "that is the way the cat jumps? i see." then aloud, "what sort of rifle have you there, adrian?" for the latter was clad and armed as though for the chase, and had a bandolier full of cartridges slung round him. "one of the new kind," was the crisp reply. "a mauser. _ja_, you can kill a man at thousands of yards with this." "so you could, if you could only see him," was the perfectly good-humoured reply. "i shall see him plainly enough, at whatever distance. _ja_, at whatever distance," repeated the young boer with meaning; and, looking as black as thunder, he turned his back upon the other in rather a pointed manner, and began to converse with his cousin. "yet," said colvin to himself, "yet we have always been the best of friends. but that would prove a very awkward customer if--yes," he repeated, always to himself. "if--" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "speak, bronkersspruit, with pride speak out; call potchefstrom by name. pretoria and langnek's pass, ingogo and majuba, where our deliverer was with us, proclaim them all together." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "our freedom's flag give now its praise, `four colours' hold in renown; it waves above the republic. no force, intrigue, no politics of kafir, briton, jingo clique, shall e'er that flag again haul down." chapter eleven. love--and some sport. "you are in no hurry to go on, are you, colvin?" said stephanus de la rey, while they were at breakfast. "because, if not, we might take guns and go down to the _hoek_. it's swarming with duiker and blekbok." "haven't got my gun along, stephanus, and aasvogel won't stand fire." the speaker deemed he had grim reason to know that, and exchanged a glance with aletta, who had looked up quickly, at the allusion. "oh, that is soon got over. you can have your pick of four horses that will, and you can either take my shot-gun or one of the rifles. there will be four of us--you and i and cornelis and adrian--and we can drive out that _hoek_ thoroughly." "i don't care to hunt to-day, oom stephanus," said adrian. "i must get back. i have many things to do at home." stephanus looked narrowly at his nephew, whose manner struck him as strange. he had replied in dutch, whereas the conversation hitherto had been in english, but that might be due to his new-born and exuberant patriotism. "of course, then, you must see to them, nephew," he said. "the reason why so many of us don't get on is, that we are too fond of sitting on the stoep and smoking our pipes." he himself and his son had been at work in the "lands" and at the goatkraals ever since sunrise. at the same time he was rather surprised at the refusal of his nephew, who was a keen sportsman, and would have had a chance of testing his new rifle, which had already been inspected and its points critically discussed. but adrian had an object in his refusal, and the name of that object was aletta. hardly had the other three men got out of sight than he tried to persuade the girl to take a turn in the garden with him. ordinarily she would have needed no persuasion, but to-day a sort of instinct rendered the idea distasteful to her. but he waxed eloquent upon their common topic--the cause--and she yielded. he told her about the delegate from pretoria--"the patriot," as he reverentially termed him, and how that olympian jupiter had talked with him--had it been the president himself he could hardly have felt more proud. he told her how the seed had been sown on well-watered and well-prepared ground, and she listened with real interest, for they had an ideal in common, these two young people, and were both burning with a lofty enthusiasm. besides, the girl was really very fond of adrian, who was a fine, manly fellow. now she predicted great things for him. he would rise to be one of the most prominent men in the new dutch south africa. there was no limit to the dazzling honours she beheld in store for him. yes, the conspiracy was nearly complete. there was not a dutchman within a radius of fifty miles, he told her, who was not ready to rise, who would not muster at the appointed time and place, rifle in hand, to throw off the english yoke. those cursed english! he trusted that their future rulers would not allow one single englishman to remain in the country--no, not one. he hated them all. this brought a meaning smile to aletta's face. she remembered adrian's manner when he had first come upon her--and the englishman--but an hour or two before. "but, adrian," she said, "why are you so bitter against the english now? you used not to be. of course we must get the land back from them, but we need not drive them all out. some of the better ones might remain." "there are no `better ones,'" he replied, vehemently. "i would not say that. our english neighbours round here, what few there are, seem nice enough. there is mrs wenlock, for instance, and frank--i haven't seen the daughter yet. and then there is that mr kershaw--he seems a particularly pleasant sort of man." at this the resentful scowl on adrian's face deepened. his strong hand opened and shut once or twice as though gripping at somebody's throat. "so you seemed to think when i came upon you this morning," he answered in a sort of growl. aletta started, and gazed at him in wide-eyed astonishment. "why, adrian, i never saw the man until last evening," she said, gently, but conscious that the colour was flowing over her face in waves. for the blunt retort had, as it were, in a flash opened her mind to herself, and what she saw therein had frightened her. "so? then you have turned your time to very quick use," he answered. then, seeing her start away from him with a cold, yet hurt, look, his tone changed entirely. "forgive me, aletta, darling. i am jealous, i suppose, and, of course, a fool. but i love you. i always have since we were children together. and i have been longing and longing for you to come back, and have been counting the weeks to it. ask andrina if i have not. then when you do come back, and i see you for the first time, it is with this englishman. forgive me if i have said anything to offend you, aletta, and say you will marry me. i love you so." his tone was deep and soft and pleading, and the listener, stealing a look at his face, could not but feel much moved. he was so intensely in earnest. and he was a really fine-looking young fellow was this young dutchman, a lover of whom any girl might feel the reverse of ashamed. as a matter of fact this one did so feel, and her voice was very soft as she answered: "oh, adrian, why did you ask me? i don't see how i can." it was a pretty lame answer, and she felt it to be. he, for his part, proceeded to improve the occasion and to urge his cause again and again with all the arguments he could find. she, for hers, was dangerously tempted to temporise, but by some merciful instinct rejected that refuge for the weak. she answered him to the same effect as before, but this time more clearly, more decidedly. then he began to press her for reasons. why did she persist in refusing him? he was well off, and could make her thoroughly comfortable. he defied anyone to say a word against his character or life. he was sure his uncle would approve, and so on. then, waxing bitter, he hinted that since she had been away at cape town she had forgotten her own people. only the english were good enough now. adrian had better have let that side alone. it spoiled the good effect he was already producing in that it was first of all somewhat childish-- in the second place unjust. "that is not true, adrian," she answered gravely, but without anger, "and you ought not to say it. i am of my own people as much as ever. i have seen english people, too, whom i like and admire. those of good blood are second to no race in the world--for good blood is good blood all the world over. but you ought not to say some of the things you have been saying. you wound me and--insult me." "so? i wound you and insult you? forgive me, aletta. i would not do that for all the world. but look! as you say, you have only known this englishman since last evening. that is good. but the man who comes between you and me--englishman or who ever he is--had better take care, great care, for it will mean life or death to him or to me. the time is coming when every man's rifle will be his law--the avenger of his own wrongs." the tone was quiet now. there was that in it which was so earnest, so free from vehemence as to redeem it from mere bounce or melodramatics. aletta, listening, was secretly impressed, and secretly more than respected him. "you would not do murder, surely, adrian?" she said, the narrative she had heard only that morning rising luridly before her mind. "no, not murder, only justice. the time is coming when we can call upon those who have wronged us to face us, man to man. that is not murder." "n-no. but does it not strike you, adrian, that you may be doing your best to kill all the liking and regard i have always felt for you? and are you not taking a great deal too much upon yourself?" then, with a considerable flash of spirit, "who gave you any right to take possession of me in this cool and calm manner? what right have you to tell me whom i am not to be friendly with--yes, and even more, if i choose that it shall be so? i think you are taking a great deal too much upon yourself, and i tell you so. but there, do not let us quarrel," she added, with sudden softening. "and i think it is time we returned to the house." "as you will, aletta. but i could not help saying that i did, for i mean it--every word of it. of course we will not quarrel. how could i quarrel with you?" the tone was sad and grave, but there was a dignity about it that appealed to aletta. she did not fail to notice, either, that the other had not come off badly under somewhat difficult and delicate circumstances. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the while those upon slaughter intent were pursuing their way. colvin kershaw was a very keen sportsman, and reckoned that life was never so thoroughly well worth living as at moments like this--when mounted on a good shooting-horse, an excellent gun in his hand, the whole day before him, and, spreading around, as fine a bit of veldt for providing a mixed bag as one could wish to range over--just rolling enough to be picturesque--the karroo bush and the mimosa, which grew in solitary ragged clumps or lined along the river banks, affording plenty of cover for birds or the smaller kind of buck. the sun flamed down from a blue and cloudless vault, but without much power, for it was about midwinter, and the atmosphere of the high veldt was clear and exhilarating to the last degree. two kafir boys had been sent round to the further side of the "camp," with instructions to lure thither and keep occupied such vicious male ostriches as would otherwise have interfered with, and, so far as their jurisdiction extended, entirely prevented sport; and the three horsemen were riding abreast, fifty yards or so apart, at a slow foot's pace. behind them walked gert, armed with a formidable thorn _tack_ in case any of the aggressive bipeds should assail them in preference to being fooled by the diversion aforesaid. but just before they took up their positions, cornelis being out of earshot, stephanus remarked: "i wonder what is the matter with adrian, colvin? i have never known him not want to hunt before. he was looking very strange, too." "he was," replied the other, who had his own ideas upon that head. "so? you noticed it, then? well, my notion is this," sinking his voice. "adrian is _slim_. i believe he remained at home only to have a quiet talk with aletta." "yes?" "i think so. they were always devoted to each other as children and then as they grew up together. i thought it good for her to go away and see something of the world and of people, so i sent her to some relatives of mine to cape town." "she has done them credit i don't mind telling you, stephanus, that even the little i've seen of your eldest daughter justifies me in saying she would show to advantage anywhere--_yes_, to the greatest advantage--in london or anywhere you like." "so?" said stephanus, hugely delighted. "you think so, eh?" "think so? i'm sure of it," replied colvin, whimsically thinking with what whole-heartedness he was now eulogising one who that time yesterday had existed in his mind as a plain, heavy-looking and absolutely uninteresting girl. so libellous can be the photographer's art. "i am delighted to hear you say so, colvin. you are from england and have seen a great deal of the world and ought to know. but i believe you are right. yes, i am sure you are right. well, now, my idea is that adrian has remained behind to try his luck with aletta." "by jove! has he?" then changing the quick tone of vivid interest into which he had been momentarily betrayed, he went on tranquilly: "and do you think he will succeed?" "i cannot say. aletta has seen a great many people, a great many men down at the cape. she may not care to marry a farmer. but she might do worse than take adrian. i have a great opinion of him. he is a fine fellow and no fool. but she must please herself." "yes, but--are they not--er--rather nearly related?" "i had thought of that side of it, too. it is a disadvantage. look out! there is a koorhaan running just on your left. he will be up in a second." hardly were the words out than the bird rose, shrilling forth his loud, alarmed cackle. colvin dropped the bridle--his gun was at his shoulder. crack! and down came the noisy little bustard, shot fair and square through the head. two more rose, but out of range, and the air for the next minute or two was noisy with their shoutings. colvin dismounted to pick up the bird, and as he did so up got another. it was a long shot, but down came this bird also. "get there quick, man! he's running," cried stephanus. the warning was not unneeded. the bird seemed only winged and had the grass been a little thicker would have escaped. as it was, it entailed upon its destroyer a considerable chase before he eventually knocked it out with a stone, and then only as it was about to disappear within an impenetrable patch of prickly pear. "well, stephanus, i believe i'm going to score off you both to-day," said colvin, as he tied the birds on to the d of his saddle with a bit of _riempje_. "nothing like a shot-gun in this sort of veldt." boers, as a rule, seldom care for bird-shooting, looking upon it as sport for children and englishmen. birds in their opinion are hardly worth eating, guinea-fowl excepted. when these are required for table purposes they obtain them by the simple process of creeping stealthily up to their roost on a moonlight night, and raking the dark mass of sleeping birds--visible against the sky on the bare or scanty-leaved boughs--with a couple of charges of heavy shot stephanus laughed good-humouredly, and said they would find buck directly. then they would see who had the better weapon. they had got into another enclosure, where the ground was more open. colvin had already bagged another koorhaan and a brace of partridges, and so far was not ill-satisfied. suddenly cornelis was seen to dismount. a buck was running across the open some three hundred yards away. bang! a great splash of dust nearly hid the animal for a moment. a near thing, but yet not quite near enough. on it went, going like the wind, now behind a clump of bushes now out again. cornelis had another cartridge in, and was kneeling down. a wire fence stretched across the line of the fleeing animal, which would have to slacken speed in order to get through this. watching his moment, cornelis let go. the "klop" made by the bullet as it rushed through the poor little beast--through ribs and heart--was audible to them there at upwards of four hundred yards. it never moved afterwards. "oh, fine shot!" cried colvin, with a grim afterthought to himself, viewing it by the light of the failure of the bloemfontein conference. "it's a duiker ram, pa," sang out the young dutchman. then he shouted to the kafirs to bring it along, and the three moved onward. soon colvin got his chance. a blekbok, started by the tread of stephanus' horse, raced right across him at about forty-five yards, broadside on. up went the gun, a second's aim, and the pretty little animal turned a most beautiful somersault, and lay kicking convulsively, struck well forward in the head. "well done, well done! _maagtig kerel_! but you can do something with shot!" cried stephanus, approvingly. presently the metallic grating cackle of guinea-fowl was borne to their ears. they were near the banks of the sneeuw river, where the mimosa cover and prickly pear _klompjes_ were a favourite haunt of those splendid game birds. by dint of manoeuvring colvin got right in among them, their attention being diverted by the other horseman. up rose quite a number. bang, bang! right and left, down they came. more rise. bang, bang! one miss, one more bird down. then they get up, more and more of them, by twos and threes, and by the time there are no more of them, and colvin has picked up eight birds and is beginning to search for three more that have run, he is conscious that life can hold no improvement on the sheer ecstasy of that moment. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ and then, when they return to the homestead in the roseate afterglow of the pearly evening--and the spoils are spread out: "five bucks, and eighteen birds," cries stephanus, counting the bag. "not so bad for a mixed shoot--and only one bird gun among us. aletta, this is an englishman who can shoot." colvin is conscious of enjoying this small triumph, as the girl's bright face is turned towards him approvingly, and she utters a laughing, half-bantering congratulation. "where is adrian?" he says, looking around. "adrian? oh, he went long ago--soon after you did." keenly watching her face, while not appearing to, he does not fail to notice the tinge of colour which comes into it as she answers. so adrian has been trying his luck then; but, has he succeeded? how shall he find out? but why should he find out? what on earth can it matter to him? yet throughout the evening the one question he is continually asking himself, and trying to deduce an answer to, is-- has he succeeded? chapter twelve. "the only english girl." may wenlock was in a temper. she had got up in one, and throughout the morning her mother and brother had had the full benefit of it. why she was in it she could not have told, at least with any degree of definitiveness. she was sick of home, she declared; sick of the farm, sick of the very sight of everything to do with it; sick of the eternal veldt. the mountains in the background were depressing, the wide-spreading karroo plains more depressing still, although, since the rain, they had taken on a beautiful carpeting of flower-spangled green. she wanted to go away--to port elizabeth, or johannesburg; in both of which towns she had relatives; anywhere, it didn't matter--anywhere for a change. life was too deadly monotonous for anything. well, life on a farm in the far karroo is not precisely a state of existence bristling with excitement, especially for the ornamental sex, debarred both by conventionality and inclination from the pleasures of the chase. but may was not really so hardly used as she chose to imagine. she was frequently away from home visiting, but of late, during almost the last year, she had not cared to go--had even refused invitations--wherein her brother saw another exemplification of feminine unreasonableness and caprice. her mother, a woman and more worldly wise, was not so sure on that head. "what's the row, anyhow?" said frank, bluntly. "what do you want to scoot away for, and leave mother and me to entertain each other? girls are always so beastly selfish." "girls selfish? men, you mean," she flashed back. "men are the most selfish creatures in existence. i hate them--hate them all." "why, only the other day you were saying that you had come round to the idea that it was much jollier in the country, and that you hated towns," went on frank. "you've said it over and over again, and now--" "oh, go away, frank, can't you, and leave her alone," said his mother. "why do you take such a delight in teasing her when you see she's out of sorts?" "out of sorts, eh? that's what women always say when they're in a beastly bad temper. oh, well, thank goodness i've no time for that sort of thing." and cramming his pipe he went out. frank was right, if somewhat inconsiderate. may was in a bad temper--a very bad temper indeed. hardly had he gone than she flung on her white _kapje_, the same we first saw her in, and which became her so well, and went out too, but not after him. she went round among her fowl-houses, then strolled along the quince hedges to see if any of the hens had been laying out and in irregular places for the benefit of the egg-loving _muishond_, or similar vermin, but her mind some how was not in it. she gazed out over the surrounding veldt. a little cloud of dust away in the distance caused her to start and her eyes to dilate. but it passed away and was gone. it heralded the approach of nobody. the distant flying cackle of a cock koorhaan alarmed had the same effect, but no sign of life, far or near, save the slow movement of black ostriches grazing, and the occasional triple boom as they lifted up their voices. the sun, flaming down in the cloudless forenoon, caused the great expanse of plains to shimmer and glow with mirage-like effect, giving to each distant table-topped mountain an appearance of being suspended in mid-air. her eyes filled as she stood thus gazing, and two shining tears rolled down. "oh, i must get away from here," she said to herself. "all this is weighing upon my nerves. i hate men--selfish, cruel, heartless wretches!" she caught her voice, and was conscious that the pulsations of her heart had undergone an acceleration. away in the distance a large dust-cloud was advancing, and with it the white tilt of a cape cart. "only some tiresome dutch people," she said to herself, with a weary sigh. "i hope to goodness they won't come here, that's all." but her wish was doomed to non-fulfilment, for very soon the cart was seen to turn off the road that should have taken it by and to strike the branch track leading direct to the house. a flutter of feminine garments within it betokened the nature of the visit. "may, where are you? may?" shouted frank, in stentorian tones. "oh, there you are. here's a whole crowd coming down into the drift. looks like the de la reys. they'll be here in a minute." "i wish they'd be somewhere else in a minute, then," muttered may to herself with a frown that quite transformed the pretty, winning face within the ample white _kapje_. frank's surmise proved correct. the occupants of the cart were the three de la rey girls and their brother jan. as they drove up mrs wenlock came out in a flutter of excitement and welcome. "how good of you to come over!" she said. "i am so glad to see you. we don't get many visitors just now. why, aletta, i should hardly have known you. my, but you must have been away quite a long time. i suppose you have been having grand times down at the cape. and how tall you have grown! well, i always say it does a girl good to send her about among folks and to see a little of the world. let's see, i don't think you and my may have ever met. she was not with us when we first came up." may, who had already been exchanging greetings with the other girls, now turned to this one. "no, we haven't," she said. "how do you do, miss de la rey?" and as the two clasped hands each was mentally reading the other. "what a figure!" thought may to herself. "how easily and with what unconscious grace she moves! i wish i had it instead of being fat and dumpy"--which she wasn't--"and beautifully dressed, yet quite plainly. well, she isn't pretty, that's one thing. oh no, she isn't in the least pretty." "so this is `the only english girl,'" aletta was thinking. "she is pretty. yes, mother was right, she is very, very pretty. those blue eyes--like table bay when the sun shines on it at noon--i wish i had them. and the gold of her hair, and her beautiful colouring. i do believe old tant' plessis must be right. frank, too, has improved since i saw him. he has grown quite good-looking." the said frank, having shouted ineffectually for one of the boys, presumably away on some other business, was helping jan to outspan. "well, jan," said mrs wenlock as they all went inside, "you have been a long time bringing your sister over to see us." "andrina and i have only just got back ourselves, mrs wenlock," struck in condaas. "aletta has had a lot to do at home. and we have had old tant' plessis there and ever so many people." "ever so many people. yes, i think you have had some people you would have been better without, if report speaks true," replied mrs wenlock, shaking a finger at the speaker with a good-humoured laugh. "there are those who come a long way to breed sedition and discontent and differences among folks who are quite happy and contented. we quite thought you had deserted us nowadays because we were english." mrs wenlock, you see, was one of those good souls who pride themselves on speaking their minds--in this case an utterly tactless operation. a momentary frost lay upon the whole party. but the situation was relieved by the readiness of aletta. "why, mrs wenlock, you are forgetting that there is some english blood in us," she said. "to be sure i was, child. and your father, although there is no english in him, he is a man for whom i have the greatest regard. he is the last man to listen to agitators and sedition-mongers--of that i am quite sure. how is he, by the way, and your mother?" they reassured her as to the perfect state of health and well-being enjoyed by both parents, which had the effect of leading the conversation away from a very delicate subject. may, the while, had been out of the room to see about getting tea ready, and now returned in time to hear the following:-- "why don't you bring your gun over, frank?" jan was saying. "man, there is a fine lot of guinea-fowl down along the river--if colvin has left any, that is. _maagtig_, but he is fond of shooting birds. one _klompje_ down on the _draai_ by the white rock had nearly sixty birds in it, and now there are nine. colvin has shot all the rest. guinea-fowl are not easy to get at, you know. there are other _klompjes_, but he will do the same with them, so you had better be quick or there will be none left." "he must have been shooting a lot at your place, jan." "he has. rather. he comes over nearly every other day to have a shoot. why, we shall soon have hardly anything left if he goes on at that rate. but the season will soon be over now. not that we care much about season or no season if we want a buck to eat." "tut-tut, jan! what's that you're saying? and your father field-cornet, too!" struck in mrs wenlock. may, who was presiding at the tea-tray, hearing this apparently harmless dialogue, felt it to be just about all she could do to restrain the ugly frown which threatened to cloud her face. "he comes over nearly every other day," jan had said, yet he had not been near them for about three weeks, or close upon it--not, indeed, since that evening he and frank had returned from schalkburg together. he had never been away from them so long as that since he had been settled on his own farm, nor anything like it. what _did_ it mean? what was the attraction? the sport? well, the sport wasn't bad at spring holt. no--a darker thought gripped her mind and heart, making her miserable. the time corresponded, within a day or two, to that of aletta's return. well, what then? surely she was tormenting herself unnecessarily. surely she could hold her own against a dutch girl--an ugly dutch girl--she added spitefully to herself. but just then, as she was discharging her duties of deputy hostess mechanically while thus thinking, the voice of the "ugly dutch girl" broke in upon her broodings, with a remark addressed to herself. "you have been in the transvaal lately, i hear, miss wenlock?" "not quite lately; not for a year. i have some relations in johannesburg, and was stopping with them." "ah! i have some there too. i may be going up there soon, but have never been. it is a very wonderful place, is it not?" "oh, yes. miles ahead of any other in south africa. it hasn't got the sleepy hollow sort of look all these other musty old places have. english capital and energy have put it in the forefront." this was no sort of remark to make under the circumstances, and herein was another instance of may's lack of breeding which would now and again crop up. it may have been that she was stung by a new discovery which had been brought home to her with the first utterance. this "ugly dutch girl" had a beautiful voice, soft, well modulated, thoroughly refined. it was a time when people were wont to rave at and wrangle with each other over the rights and wrongs of the political situation then nearly at its most acute stage, on far less challenge than may's tone and words implied. this dutch girl, however, did nothing of the kind. she went on talking pleasantly as though no such remark had been made--asking questions about the place under discussion, and seeming to take a vivid interest in the answers. poor may felt very small, very inferior. she was honest enough to own to herself that she had transgressed against the laws of good breeding, and to admire the other's self-possession and ready tact, though, as constituting another attraction, she loved not the possessor of these qualities any the more. then frank and jan went out to smoke a pipe or two together, and talk shop, and about sport, and the latest rumours from the transvaal--though this guardedly. the girls, left behind, were chatting, and looking at things, notably some english fashion papers which may had got out. then they, too, took a stroll out to look at may's fowl-houses, and finally all met at dinner. there was no lack of conversation. aletta was telling them about her experiences at the capital--where none of her hearers, save frank, had ever been--moved thereto by many questions from mrs wenlock, and all the good times she had been having--balls, and bicycle picnics, and government house receptions, and dances on board one or other of the warships at simonstown. may, listening with vivid interest, almost forgot her ill-humour, only failing where she was reminded of it by envy. that was the sort of life her own soul hankered after, instead of being stuck away on a dismal up-country farm. that was life--this stagnation. yet could she at that moment have been offered her choice, whether she would be there or here, she would have elected to remain where she was. "i thought cape town a beastly place," declared frank. "nothing on earth to do there, and they wanted me to wear a bell-topper hat on sunday." aletta broke into one of her whole-hearted laughs. "that's the best definition i've ever heard," she said. "no, really, i shall have to tell it to some of them next time i am down there again-- if ever i am." "it's true, all the same," persisted frank, looking remarkably pleased with himself and the consciousness of having said a good thing. but his mother told him he was talking nonsense, and proceeded with her cross-examination of aletta. had she seen the governor, and was he like his portraits? and so on. oh, yes, she had seen him pretty often. spoken to him? he had once or twice, in a kindly conventional way, spoken to her, but she was certain he would not know her from eve if he were to see her again. there were so many people he had to talk to in the same way at officially social functions. but the point in this qualification was lost upon her questioner, whose honest middle-class soul swelled with a congenial respect for one who had actually talked with the governor. "hallo! by george, there's someone coming!" exclaimed frank, as the raucous coughs of the one decrepit cur whose acquaintance we have already made, together with a sound of hoofs, gave notice of the fact. "wonder who it is?" may looked up quickly, a whole world of eager expectancy, of forestalled disappointment in her glance. and as she did so she met the eyes of aletta. chapter thirteen. two verdicts and some rancour. "hallo, colvin!" cried frank, going out on the stoep. "why, man, we had begun to think you were dead." "so?" said colvin kershaw, who was busy loosening the girths preparatory to off-saddling. "whose cart is that, frank? looks like stephanus'." "it is." "is he here then?" "no; only the girls." "which of them?" "all three." "oh--. no, don't have him put in the camp," as a hottentot came up to take the horse. "just knee-halter him, and let him run. he can pick up enough round the house." as he entered, and greeted the girls, a subtle instinct told him that two of them were watching each other and him. may's reception of him was somewhat brusque and rather too studiously off-handed. he read her face like the page of a book. she, keenly observant, noticed that he greeted the other three with the easy friendliness of people who know each other well, but without the faintest difference of tone or inflection in talking to each and all of them. "why, mr kershaw, we were thinking you were dead," said mrs wenlock, in her cordial, breezy way. "it is a long time since we saw you last." "so frank was saying, mrs wenlock. but i am not. death has not given me a call yet." none there knew how very near truth their jesting words came--save one. one knew it, and with her colvin, for the life of him, could not help exchanging a look. it was an exchange, and, swiftly as it flashed between them in its fulness of meaning, it did not go unobserved--by one. "hallo, colvin, you've got your rifle along this time," cried frank, through the open window, who was examining the piece. "why, i thought you never carried anything but a shot-gun down here." "i don't generally. but i might be going up into the wildschutsberg," and again he brought his eyes round to those of aletta. "now and then you get a long shot at a reebok up there." "why, this is the same old gun you had up in matabeleland," went on frank, sighting the weapon and pointing and recovering it. "nothing like these lee-metfords with the martini block. by george, miss de la rey, how he used to make the niggers skip in the matopos with this same pea-shooter!" "yes?" said aletta, brightly, with simulated interest, but with a dire chill at her heart. what if this weapon should come to be pointed at others than dark-skinned barbarians, and that soon? truth to tell for some occult reason the patriotic enthusiasm had cooled a little of late. "adrian had one of the new guns round at our place the other day," said jan. "a mauser. he said it would shoot three miles. it is wonderful. i can hardly believe it." "well, try a shot or two out of that, jan," said colvin. "only leave a few cartridges, in case i should come in for a good chance, riding along." jan did--making some excellent practice, at ant-heaps scattered at varying distances over the veldt. then his sisters declared that he had better see about inspanning, for it was time they were getting home. "i shall have to be moving soon myself," said colvin. "i want to be in schalkburg to-night." "in schalkburg?" echoed mrs wenlock. "why, you are in a hurry--and we haven't seen you for such a time." "yes; it's a pity. but i have to do some business there first thing in the morning, so it's as well to get there over-night." "i thought you said you might be going up to the wildschutsberg," said aletta, with a spice of mischief. "isn't that rather a long way round?" "it is rather. only in the opposite direction. but i won't go that way." and then, the cart being inspanned, they exchanged farewells. the handclasp between colvin and aletta was not one fraction more prolonged than that which he exchanged with the other two girls--if anything shorter. may, watching, could not but admit this, but did not know whether to feel relieved or not. "so that is `the only english girl'!" said aletta to herself as they drove off. "old tant' plessis was both right and wrong. they are not engaged, but still there is a sort of something between them, and that something is all, or nearly all, on her side. she would not make him happy, either--or be happy with him. she is pretty, very pretty, but common. she is gusty-tempered, has no self-command, and would be horribly jealous. no. she could never make him happy." those whom she had left, however, were at that very moment formulating their opinions upon her, but aloud. "what a nice girl aletta has grown into!" mrs wenlock was saying. "she used to be shy and awkward, and nothing to look at, before she went away, and now she's so bright, and smart, and stylish, and almost pretty. it's wonderful what her stay at cape town has done for her." "i don't think she's pretty at all," said may decisively. "i call her ugly." "no, i'll be hanged if she's ugly," said frank. "no, indeed," agreed his mother; "look what pretty hair she has, and pretty hands, and then her manner is so delightful. and there is such a stylish look about her, too! don't you agree with me, mr kershaw?" "yes; i do," was the reply, made as evenly as though the subject under discussion had been andrina or condaas, or any other girl in the district. "well, i think she's a horrid girl," persisted may. "style, indeed? what you call style, i call `side.' she puts on a kind of condescending, talk-down-to-you sort of manner. these dutch girls," with withering emphasis on the national adjective, "are that way. they go away from home for a little and come back as stuck-up as they can be. that one is too grand for anything--in her own estimation. a horrid, stuck-up thing." colvin, listening, winced. the idea expressed, the very wording of its expression, grated upon him horribly, apart from the identity of the subject thereof. in such wise would may from time to time lapse, and become, as aletta had put it to herself, "common." he made no comment upon her vehement and ill-natured dictum, knowing perfectly well that it was uttered quite as much as a challenge to himself as to relieve the utterer's feelings; and he was far too old and experienced to be drawn by any such transparent device. but as they re-entered the sitting-room the jarring effect of the words was intensified, bringing back in vivid contrast the last time he was there; that evening when he had been so near turning the most momentous corner which could meet him within the career of life. he had not turned it. a warning hand had, so to speak, been held up. this girl--he could see her as she was then, in her sweet alluring beauty, soft-voiced, appealing. he could see her now, hard-eyed, vindictive, and expressing herself in a manner that savoured of the wash-tub. what a near thing it had been--how narrow his escape! he would have been tied fast, bound hand and foot. even now there was a certain length of loose coil around him, which would need some care and judgment entirely to cast off. still there was no hard-and-fast bond, and looking backward over the events of the past three weeks or so, he felt lost in thankfulness because of the trivial, fortuitous incident which had availed to stay his tongue when it had so nearly spoken. "you are not particularly lively, after all this time, colvin." he started, and put down the paper he had pretended to read, while the above reflections were coursing through his brain. they were alone together in the room, he and may. frank, divested of his coat and waistcoat, could be seen in the distance doing odd jobs, and mrs wenlock had withdrawn for an afternoon nap. her visitors, she declared, although dear girls, had tired her. "no, i'm afraid i'm not," he said. "i believe i'm tired. well, let's talk." something in the words brought back that last evening they were thus alone together. the recollection softened her, but only for a moment. "i can imagine it seems dull now that your dutch friends are gone," she began, in a crisp, gunpowdery way which was more than a declaration of war. it was in fact the firing of the first shell. "oh, bother it, may, why will you harp on that insane prejudice of nationality?" he expostulated, but quite good-humouredly, purposely ignoring her real drift. "a good sort is a good sort, no matter what his or her nationality. and i think you'll allow that old stephanus and his crowd come under that heading." "so you seem to think," was the acid reply. "you have been there a good deal of late, haven't you?" "yes, i like them very much, and the shoot is choice." and then he went on to tell her about the bags he had made, and old tant' plessis and her absurd perversities, and the ridiculous muddle the old woman had made between his name and that of the sixteenth-century reformer. his object was to keep her attention away from personalities. but that object she saw through. "you were not so fond of them three or four weeks ago," she said, half turned away from him, and beginning to speak quickly, while the sea-blue eyes filled. "that is just the time that girl has been back. goodness! i never thought to see you--_you_--running after an ugly dutch girl." every word grated upon colvin's mind--grated intensely, so much so indeed as to leave no room for anger, only disgust and disillusionment. at that moment, too, there flashed vividly through his mind a vision of the speaker, as contrasted with this "ugly dutch girl" here in this very room but a few minutes ago, and the contrast was all in favour of the latter--yes, a hundred times over in her favour, he told himself. and now this one was going to make a scene; so much was evident. she was crudely, unsophisticatedly jealous, and had no self-control whatever. heavens! what an escape he had had! "see here, may," he said. "that sort of remark is not to my liking at all. it is--well, exceedingly unpleasant, and really i don't care about listening to all this. i am responsible to nobody for my actions, remember, and there is not one living soul who has the slightest right or title to call me to account for anything i do or don't do. and i am a little too old to begin to obey orders now. so if you will kindly give up abusing people i like, and with whom i happen to be very friendly, i shall be grateful. i don't like to hear it, and it doesn't come well from you." but the girl made no answer. she had dropped her face into her hands, and was silently sobbing. he, watching her, was softened directly. his first impulse was to take her in his arms and strive to comfort her. he still had a very weak place for her, although the scales had fallen from his eyes, owing to two causes. but an instinct of prudence and a great deal of cynicism born of experience rose up to restrain him. he had gone through this sort of thing before. he had seen women utterly miserable and heart-broken seemingly, on his account, as they said, meaning it, too, at the time; but six months or a year thence had found them laughing in his face, if not playing the same game with somebody else; but he himself had not taken them seriously, wherefore it didn't matter. yet it was all part of an education, and of what use was an education save to be applied? "don't cry like that, little one," he said gently. "why should we say hard things to each other, you and i? we never used to." the gentle tone melted her at once. she dropped her hands. all the hardness had gone out of her face, and the sea-blue eyes were limpid and tender and winning. "no, we used not. i have become very bad-tempered--very quarrelsome. but--oh, colvin, i am so tired of life--of life here. it gets upon my nerves, i think. and i have hardly any friends, and you--you the greatest of them all, hardly seem to care for me--for us--now. i--we-- never see you in these days, and--i feel it somehow." colvin's heart smote him. he need not have stayed away so long and so markedly, but there was a reason, and he had acted with the best intentions. wherein he had blundered, as people invariably do when they suffer their actions to be guided by such tissue-paper motives, instead of by the hard and safe rule of judiciousness, expediency, and knowledge of human nature. "poor little girl! you must not run away with all those ideas," he said. "and, you are flattering me. well, i will come over again soon, and have a talk, but i must go now. there, will that do?" he was talking to her quite gently, quite soothingly, just as he used to do, and the effect was wonderful. all the dejection, the sullenness, disappeared from her face, dispelled by a bright, almost happy smile. "good-bye, then," she said. "i don't think i'll come and see you start this time. good-bye, dear." her eyes shone soft and dewy in the upturned face. her lips were raised invitingly. it was not in mortal man to refuse them, however stern rectitude under the circumstances might dictate such a course. this one did not refuse them. "good-bye, my darling!" she breathed into his ear, in a voice so barely audible as to be almost inarticulate. and as he left her and went out to find his horse and see about saddling up, it was with a vague misgiving that the loose coil, to which he had made allusion in his own mind, had, within the last few moments, very perceptibly tightened. we made use just above of the expression "under the circumstances." the "circumstances" were, that by that time this cautious, and cynical and experienced man of the world was deeply, devotedly, and entirely in love with aletta de la rey. chapter fourteen. jelf--civil commissioner. nicholas andrew jelf was civil commissioner and resident magistrate for the town and division of schalkburg. in person he was a tall, middle-aged, rather good-looking man, with dark hair, and a grizzled, well-trimmed moustache, and whose general appearance fostered an idea which constituted one of his favourite weaknesses--that he resembled a retired military man. when mistaken for such openly, he positively beamed; and more than one shrewd rogue got the benefit of the doubt, or obtained material mitigation of the penalty due to his misdeeds, by appealing, with well-feigned ignorance, to the occupant of the bench as "colonel." by disposition he was easy-going and good-natured enough, and bore the reputation among his brother civil servants of being something of a duffer. by these the magistracy of schalkburg was regarded as anything but a plum. it was very remote, the district large, and peopled almost entirely by dutch farmers. the town itself was a great many miles from the nearest railway station; moreover, it was a dull little hole, with the limited ideas and pettifogging interests common to up-country townships. it boasted a large dutch reformed church--an unsightly, whitewashed parallelogram with staring, weather-beaten windows--item about a dozen stores, a branch of the standard bank, and two "hotels," designed to afford board and lodging, of a kind, to such of the storekeepers' clerks or bank clerks--to whom means, or inclination or opportunity, denied the advantages and felicities of the connubial state, for a stranger was an exceeding rarity. half of its houses were untenanted, save for a few days on the occasion of the quarterly _nachtmaal_ [the lord's supper] when the township would be filled with a great multitude of boers and their families from far and near, those who did not own or hire houses, camping with their waggons on the town commonage. but it boasted no natural beauty to speak of, just dumped down, as it were, on a wide, flat plain. some few of the houses had an _erf_ or two of garden ground attached, which in the spring constituted by contrast a pleasing spot of green amid the prevailing red dust, but for the rest the impression conveyed was that of a sun-baked, wind-swept, utterly depressing sort of place. nicholas andrew jelf was seated at his office table amid a pile of papers, and his countenance wore a very worried expression indeed. the post had just been delivered, and the contents of the bag had consisted of a greater crop than usual of government circulars, eke requests for returns, as it seemed, upon every subject under heaven. moreover, the newspapers, through which he had glanced hurriedly, were mainly remarkable for the number and conspicuousness of their scare headlines. sensation was the order of the day, and out of the chances of a rupture with the two republics the canny editor managed to suck no small advantage. but poor mr jelf could lay to himself no such consolation. his thoughts were for his already large and still increasing family, and the ruinous hole it would make in the by no means extravagant pay of a civil servant were he obliged to send it away to a safer locality, as he greatly feared he ought to lose no time in doing. he turned to his correspondence. the government desired to be informed of this--or the member for slaapdorp had moved for a return of that--or civil commissioners were requested to obtain the opinion of the leading farmers of their divisions as to how far rinderpest microbes were likely to affect donkeys, given certain conditions of temperature and climate... and nearly a dozen more of like practical utility. mr jelf threw down the papers with a grunt of disgust and swore mildly to himself. "they seem to think a civil commissioner must be a whole damned walking `encyclopaedia britannica,'" he growled. "what's this? more of the same stuff, i suppose." but, as he read, his attention became more riveted and his face anxious and graver. for the official communication, marked "confidential," was one urgently requesting information as to the tone and disposition of the dutch farmers in his division as bearing upon the present state of affairs, and desiring a full and circumstantial report at the very earliest opportunity. the effect of this was to deepen the worried look upon his face and to cause him to swear a little more. just then a tap came at the door, and his clerk entered. "anything by the post that wants seeing to, sir?" "anything? i should think so. just look at all this, morkel," pointing to the heap of stuff upon the table. morkel did look at it--looked somewhat blue, moreover. he was fond of sport and had intended to ask for a day or two's leave to join a buck hunt on one of the farms, and was fully capable of grasping the amount of work all that confounded correspondence was going to entail. he was a well-set-up, good-looking young fellow of five and twenty, very proud of his fair proportions and waxed moustache and somewhat dandified attire; for there were three or four passable-looking girls in schalkburg, and the civil commissioner's clerk was somebody in the place. "one would think, at such a time as this, government would have plenty to do without off-loading all these insane circulars upon us," went on his chief, irritably. "it isn't as if the things they want to know were of any practical use--they might as well move for a return of the number of buttons on every prisoner's breeches over at the gaol as some of the things they do ask, but we've got to humour them. by the way, though, there's one thing they want to know that has a practical side, and that ought to be looked after by a special department manufactured for this emergency. _we_ have quite enough to do without going on the stump, so to say. look at this." he handed the letter marked "confidential" to his subordinate. the latter read it through carefully, and as he did so he saw light. he thought he was going to get his shoot after all, and a good deal more of it than he had at first hoped for. "the thing is so unreasonable," went on mr jelf. "every mortal fad sprung on the house by some tin-pot country member, some retired canteen-keeper and proportionately consequential, is off-loaded on the civil commissioner. the civil commissioner is requested to do this, and the civil commissioner is desired to supply information upon that--as if we hadn't quite enough to do with our financial and judicial duties. why the deuce can't government have its own secret service department as oom paul is supposed to have?" morkel listened sympathetically, as he always did when his chief indulged in a grumble. the two were on very good terms. jelf had a liking for his subordinate, who officially was smart and well up to his work, and socially was the only man in the place with whom he could associate on even terms, except the district surgeon, who was a trifle too fond of his glass, and inclined to be dictatorial. morkel, for his part, reciprocated the liking. his chief was easy-going, and good-natured in the matter of leave officially, and socially took a sort of paternal and friendly interest in him. these two civil servants, therefore, got on admirably together. "well, the thing has got to be done," went on jelf, "and the only way to find out dutch feeling is to go around among the dutch. i haven't the time to do it, and if i had it wouldn't help, because they'd all shut up like oysters before me. but with you it would be different, morkel. they'd look upon you as one of themselves." he little thought how hard he was stamping on the corns of his subordinate; the fact being that, although born of dutch parentage on either side, morkel's weakness was to imagine himself thoroughly and intensely english. "you would have to affect boer sympathies, though, and we know that under the present ministry that doesn't damage a civil servant at headquarters, eh? what do you think of the idea?" "it's a first-rate one, sir. i might go around as if on a sort of wandering shoot." "yes. take your gun with you. that'll give colour to the affair. you can have my trap and horses, only spare the springs all you can in going through some of those bad drifts. you'd better take a week of it. harvey can do a lot of your work for you. he's almost too good a man for a chief constable. you'd better get as far up into the wildschutsberg part as you can; they say the boers up that way are the worst--especially since that firebrand, andries botma, has been his rounds. look up kershaw too; they say the fellow is three parts boer in his sympathies. you might be able to get something out of him." a knock at the door and the court constable, being bidden to enter, announced that mynheer stephanus de la rey wanted to see the civil commissioner. "the very man," exclaimed the latter. "you must get to his farm, morkel. you're sure to hear something there. show him in, hendrik." stephanus entered, and as he did so morkel went out, laden with the circulars that needed attention. left alone with the magistrate, stephanus looked a trifle ill-at-ease. his frank geniality seemed to have left him as he replied to that official's inquiries after his family and concerns wherewith the boer is wont to preface any and every interview if on anything like friendly terms with his interlocutor. then he came to the point. he wished to resign his field-cornetcy. jelf looked annoyed, and felt it too. what was the reason, he asked. a reliable, influential man like stephanus was just the man for the office. he would be hard to replace. would he not reconsider his decision? but stephanus was firm; the fact being that since he had become converted to the "patriot" cause he was too honest to continue holding a post under the british government, honorary as such might be. he did not, however, desire to say as much to the government representative before him. but the latter saw through his constraint, and went straight to the root of the thing. he was irritated at the obstinacy, as he called it, of this boer, and the latter, to his amazement and indignation, found himself being roundly lectured. the civil commissioner had heard reports of disaffection among some of the farmers--notably those in the wildschutsberg district, but he had never expected to find among the disloyal a man so universally respected as the one before him, and much more to the same effect stephanus, however, kept both his temper and his dignity. if that was the way the representative of the government regarded him, he replied, all the more reason why he should adhere to his original resolve, and resign the field-cornetcy in favour of somebody who would be more acceptable. would mynheer kindly receive his formal resignation? yes, mynheer would, in that case. but the farewell greeting between the two was stiff and unfriendly. left alone, jelf felt rather small. he had failed in judiciousness, in tact, and he knew it. he had rubbed his interviewer the wrong way, just at a time when it was essential to keep such a man well disposed and friendly. at any rate, here was one item for his report. if stephanus de la rey was disaffected, why, then, the whole of the wildschutsberg district must be a hotbed of seething sedition. thus he expressed matters to his subordinate, as, stephanus having departed, he called morkel in to talk over their plan. "he has all but come round, sir," said the latter. "i talked him over a good deal, and his is one of the places i'm to go to. he won't give way about the field-cornetcy, though." "oh, well, we must find somebody else, i suppose. they are all rebels at heart, i believe, and he's as great a rebel as any. yes? come in." again the court constable entered. "mynheer grobbelaar wishes to see you, sir." "grobbelaar? is it jan grobbelaar?" "yes, sir." "show him in. this is getting warm, morkel. another damned field-cornet. i suppose _he_ wants to resign now." swaart jan entered, his projecting buck-teeth more prominent than ever in an oily grin, as he shook hands with the two officials. jelf's manner was short, and he wasted no time in preliminaries. "well, mynheer grobbelaar, and what can i do for you?" "nay, mynheer, thank you. i have not called on business; just to make a little friendly visit." "oh, not on business?" said the magistrate, greatly relieved in his own mind, yet wishing his visitor at the devil, bothering in like that during office hours. but he changed his mind when the boer explained that he had been shooting a few springbuck lately, and he had brought in a little matter of a saddle and a couple of haunches, which mrs jelf might find good for roasting. it was from a young buck, and would eat well--he went on, in his shambling, diffident way. jelf thawed at once, and thanked his visitor. here was another opportunity of getting at the state of dutch feeling; and by way of preliminary he told the other about stephanus' resignation, adding, with a laugh: "i thought you had come to resign too, mynheer grobbelaar." but the little man deprecated the possibility of any such idea having entered his head. it was a pity stephanus had resigned, though. in answer to other questions--yes, there was some foolish talk among the boers around him, but it was only talk, and they were young men. the patriot? oh, yes, he had visited some of them, but only on a flying visit. held meetings? oh, no--and here swaart jan's hands went up in pious horror. what did mynheer think of him, and those around him, to imagine that he, or they, would countenance such a thing for a single moment? jelf felt intensely relieved. here was loyalty at last, anyhow--another item for his report. and he and his visitor parted with the most cordial of farewells; and field-cornet jan marthinus grobbelaar, _alias_ swaart jan, went out grinning till his tusks nearly came below the level of his chin, as he thought of the cases of mauser rifles snugly stored in a safe recess within his house, and the ammunition, a quantity sufficient to blow up half the mountain, which was stowed away in a cleft of an adjacent krantz, conveyed and deposited thither by authority of no permit given under the hand of nicholas andrew jelf, resident magistrate. here was loyalty at last, anyhow! as that astute official had put it to himself. chapter fifteen. solution. how had it all come about? what was there in this girl that had seized and held his mind--his every thought--ever since he had first set eyes on her, all unexpectedly, that evening when he had come in, wet and dripping, having barely escaped with his life? colvin kershaw, putting the question to himself twenty times a day, could find no definite answer to it. no definite answer--no. therein lay all the charm surrounding aletta. it was so indefinite. from the moment he had first beheld her the charm had taken hold upon him. he had been unconsciously stirred by her presence, her personality. yet it was no case of love at first sight. a strange, potent weaving of the spell had been on him then, and, gradual in its development, had enchained him and now held him fast. day after day in his solitary dwelling he had recognised it, and analysed it, and striven with its influence, yet had never attempted to throw it off--had never shrunk instinctively from the weaving of its coils around him. it was not born of solitude, as perhaps that other coil, from which he would heartily fain be now entirely and conscientiously free, had been. no matter under what circumstances, or in what crowd they had met, he realised that the result would have been the same; that the spell would still have been woven just the same. he thought upon the conditions of life, and how such are apt to focus themselves into a very small groove--the groove in which one happens, for the time being, to run. might it not be that the circumscribed area into which life had resolved itself with him of late had affected his judgment, and led him to take a magnified, a vital view of that which, looked at from the outside world, would have struck him as a passing fancy, and untenable save as such? judgment, reason, heart, alike cried out to the contrary, and cried aloud. he might leave this remote habitation on the high veldt, this region outwardly so unattractive to the casual passer-through with a mind absorbed by the state of the share market in johannesburg or london, but so enriveting to those who make it their home. he might return to the world he knew so well; might do so to-morrow, without inconvenience or loss. what then? he would merely be measuring the length of his chain, or, if he succeeded in breaking it, would be relinquishing the pearl of great price which he had found here in a far corner of the earth when least expecting any such marvellous discovery, any such unspeakable blessing to be obtained by mortal man. for so he had come to regard it. yes, the symptoms this time were there. nothing was wanting to them now. he had been under the delusion that that which they had represented was, for him, a thing of the past, and in his solitary life and unconscious craving for sympathy and companionship--yes, and even for love, had almost acted upon that idea. but for a timely diversion he would so have acted. now he could hardly formulate to himself a sufficiency of gratitude to heaven, or circumstances, or whatever it might be, that he had not. the narrowness of his escape he realised with a mental shudder. what if this strange new experience, opening as it did such an irradiating vista of possibilities, had come upon him a day too late, had discovered him bound--bound, too, by a chain he well knew there would be no loosening once its links enfolded him? his usual luck had stood him in good stead once more, and the thought suggested another. would that luck continue? would it? it should. he would soon put it to the test. he went over in his mind the whole period of his acquaintanceship with aletta. it was short enough in actual fact--only a matter of weeks, yet viewed by the aspect of the change it had wrought it seemed a lifetime. he recalled how he had first beheld her, and indeed many a time since, bright, laughing, infecting everyone, however unconsciously, with the warmth of her sunny light-heartedness. no outcome was this either of a shallow unthinking temperament. she could be serious enough on occasions, as he had more than once observed during their many talks together, that, too, with a quick sympathy which pointed to a rich depth of mind. he reviewed her relationship towards her own people, which, as an intimate friend of the house, he had enjoyed every opportunity of observing, and here again he found no flaw. it was clear that the whole family came little short of worshipping her, and through this ordeal too she had come utterly unspoiled. the idea brought back the recollection of the sort of good-humoured, faintly contemptuous indulgence with which he had listened to the singing of her praises by one or other of its members, what time her personality represented to him simply the original of those unprepossessing portraits which adorned the sitting-room; and he acknowledged that the laugh now was completely turned against himself. then his thoughts took a new vein, and he seemed to hear the comments of those among whom he had sometime moved--"colvin kershaw? oh yes. married some farm girl out in africa and turned boer, didn't he?" and more to the same effect, uttered in a languid, semi-pitying tone by this or that unit of a society whose shibboleth was the mystical word "smart," a society he had been in but not of. well, so be it. let them drawl out their banal inanities. in this case he hoped they would do so with reason. hoped? for he was not sure, far from it; and herein lay one of the "symptoms," not that he would have loved aletta one iota the less had he been sure. he was not one of those to whom the joy of possession is measured by the excitement and uncertainty of pursuit; and there are some of whom this holds good, however difficult it may be to persuade, at any rate the ornamental sex, that such can possibly be the case. on the contrary, he would feel grateful to one who should spare him the throes and doubts calculated to upset even an ordinarily well-balanced mind under the circumstances, and proportionately appreciative. but whatever of diffidence or anxiety might take hold upon his own mind, colvin kershaw was not the man to display it in the presence of its first cause. the cringing, adoring, beseeching suitor of not so very old-fashioned fiction struck him as somewhat contemptible, and as of necessity so appearing to the object of his addresses, no matter how much she might really care for him at heart. he must run his chance to win or lose, and if he lost, take it standing. there was none of the _ad misericordiam_, wildly pleading element about him. "_pas op, baas_! the bird!" the words, emanating from his henchman, gert bondelzwart, brought him down to earth again; for the occupation in which he had been engaged during the above reverie was the prosaic one of attending to his daily business, which in this case consisted in going round the ostrich camps and inspecting such nests as he knew of, or discovering indications of prospective ones. to a certain extent mechanical and routine, it was not incompatible with reflection upon other matters. now he turned to behold a huge cock ostrich bearing down upon him with hostility and aggressiveness writ large all over its truculent personality. "here, gert. give me the _tack_!" he said. "that old brute is properly _kwaai_." now the cock ostrich resembles the aggressive and nagging human female, in that the respective weakness of either protects it, though differing, in that in the first instance the said weakness may be read as "value" and, in the second, proportionately the reverse. for a creature of its size and power for mischief there is no living thing more easy to kill or disable than an ostrich, wherein again comes another diametrical difference. a quick, powerful down-stroke or two with the sharp-pointed toe may badly injure a man or even kill him, if surprised in the open by the ferocious biped, tenfold more combative and formidable during the nesting season. and this one, which now came for its lawful owner, looked formidable indeed, towering up to its great height, the feathers round the base of its neck bristling at right angles, and flicking its jet-black wings viciously. it was a grand bird, whose pink shins and beak, and flaming, savage eye proclaimed it in full season, as it charged forward, hissing like an infuriated snake. colvin grasped the long, tough mimosa bough not a moment too soon. standing firm yet lightly, so as to be able to spring aside if necessary, he met the onrush in the only way to meet it. the sharp pricking of the clusters of spiky thorns met the savage bird full in the head and neck, but chiefly the head, forcing it to shut its eyes. for a moment it danced in powerless and blinded pain, then backed, staggering wildly. forward again it hurled itself, emitting an appalling hiss, again to meet that inexorable cluster of thorny spikes. in blind rage it shot out a terrible kick, which its human opponent deftly avoided, the while holding his thorn _tack_ high enough to avoid having it struck from his hand--a precaution many a tyro in the ways of the gentle ostrich has been known to forget, to his cost. again it charged, once more only to find itself forced to shut its eyes and stagger back giddily. then it came to the conclusion that it had had enough. "i think he will leave us alone, so long, gert," said colvin, panting somewhat from the exertion and excitement, for even the thorn-tack means of defence requires some skill and physical effort to wield with effect against a full-grown and thoroughly savage male ostrich. "_ja_, baas. he is real _schelm_," returned gert, who had been standing behind his master throughout the tussle. "but he has had enough." it seemed so. the defeated monster, baulked and cowed, sullenly withdrew, and, shambling off, promptly encountered a weaker rival in the shape of one of his own kind, which he incontinently went for, and consoled himself for his own rout by rushing his fleeing inferior all over the camp, and then, gaining the wire fence, went down on his haunches, and wobbled his silly head and fluttered his silly wings in futile challenge to another cock-bird on the further side of that obstruction, whose attention had been attracted by the row, and who was coming down to see what it was all about. "now to look at that jackal-trap, gert. ah, here it is--and, sure enough, here's mr jack." there came into view an iron trap, which, when set, had been level with the ground, deftly covered with loose earth, and baited with half a hare. it was placed in the thick of a bush so as to be inaccessible to ostriches, to protect whom it was there, and as they came up, a jackal, securely caught by the forelegs, struggled wildly to get free, snarling in fear and pain, and displaying all its white teeth. "poor little brute," said colvin. "here, gert, give it a whack on the head with your kerrie and send it to sleep. _toen_! look sharp. "that's the worst of these infernal traps," he went on, as a well-directed blow terminated the destructive little marauder's hopes and fears. "but it has got to be, or we shouldn't have an egg left." "_ja_, baas. that is quite true," assented the griqua, to whose innermost mind, reflected through those of generations of barbarian ancestry, the idea of feeling pity for a trapped animal, and vermin at that, represented something akin to sheer imbecility. "gert," said colvin, as they got outside the ostrich camps, "get up one of the shooting-horses--punch will do--and saddle him up. i am going over to ratels hoek." "punch, sir? not aasvogel?" "_jou eselkop_! did i not say a shooting-horse? aasvogel would run to the devil before if he heard a shot. he'd run further now since the joke up yonder with gideon roux." "_ja_, sir. that is true"; and the griqua went away chuckling. he had been poking sly fun at his master, in that aasvogel was by far the showiest horse in the place. gert had been putting two and two together. for about once a week that his master had gone over to ratels hoek formerly, now he went thither at least twice or three times. of course it could only be with one object, and with that object no boer would have thought of riding any other than his showiest horse. wherefore gert had suggested aasvogel. likewise, no boer would have thought of riding forth on such an errand without getting himself up with much care and all the resources at his disposal. colvin, needless perhaps to say, did nothing of the kind. he got into a clean and serviceable shooting-suit, and with his favourite shot-gun, a sufficiency of cartridges, and a few trifling necessaries in a saddle-bag, he was ready. just then his housekeeper, katrina, gert's wife, met him in the door with a note. it had just been brought, she said. baas wenlock's boy was waiting for an answer. he opened the note. it was in may's handwriting, wanting to know if he would come over and spend sunday with them. what should he reply? this was friday; yet, one way or the other, he was under no doubt whatever that in forty-eight hours he would not be precisely inclined to put in the day at spring holt--no--no matter how things went. yet to refuse would seem unfriendly, and, viewed from one aspect, somewhat brutal. so he left the matter open, pleading hurry in his reply. then as he passed out of his door a chill feeling came over him. how would he re-enter it--elate, happy, or--only to calculate how soon he could make arrangements for leaving it altogether, for shutting down this volume of the book of his life? and with a sense of darkling superstition upon him the delivery of that message as he passed the threshold seemed to sound a note of ill augury. he was destined to meet with another such. when nearly half-way on his ride he came in sight of another horseman cantering along the flat at some distance off, travelling towards him. a few minutes more and he made out adrian de la rey. it was rather a nuisance, he decided. he did not want to meet adrian just then. adrian was too addicted to making himself disagreeable in these days. formerly they had been very friendly, but now, since adrian had come upon them that morning in the garden, his manner had changed. it had displayed towards colvin, upon such occasions as they had met, a brusqueness akin to rudeness. "_daag_! adrian!" cried the latter, reining in. "_daag_!" answered the young boer gruffly, without reining in, and continuing his way. "you want a lesson in manners, my young friend," said colvin to himself, feeling excusably nettled. "well, well!" he added. "the poor devil's jealous, and of course hates me like poison. i suppose i should do the same." thus lightly did he pass it off. he would not have done so perhaps could he at that moment have seen the other's face, have read the other's mind. a savage scowl clouded the former, black and deadly hatred seethed through the latter. "wait a bit, you _verdomde rooinek_!" snarled the boer to himself. "your days are told. they may be counted by weeks now, and not many of _them_. these accursed english--is it not enough that they rule our land and treat us like kafirs, without coming between us and those we love? their time of reckoning will be here directly--and of this one too. he little knows--he little knows, that he will be dead in a few weeks. no-no!" he said truly. the object of this murderous though not altogether unjustifiable hatred was holding on his way through the sweet golden sunshine, little thinking of the dread ordeal of blood and horror through which he, and some of those with whom his fate was bound up, were soon--and very soon--to pass. chapter sixteen. "of great price." that visit to the wenlocks had been productive of result in more directions than one; still, why should it have affected aletta de la rey of all people? yet affect her it did, inasmuch as, after it, she became more happy and light-hearted than ever. little had she thought at the time of carelessly suggesting the idea to her mother that such could possibly be the result. but weeks had gone by since the suggestion was made, and the lapse of weeks has sometimes a curious way of bringing about changes and developments by no means to be foreseen by those most concerned therein; which for present purposes may be taken to mean that she and colvin kershaw had by this time seen a great deal of each other. and this period aletta, for her part, looked back upon with vivid and unalloyed pleasure. he had been a great deal at ratels hoek during that time, so much so as to lay her open to considerable chaff at the hands of her sisters, notably at those of condaas, who declared that it was "a case," in that he had never been known to favour them with anything like so much of his company before. even old tant' plessis had remarked upon it, appending by way of rider the query as to when he was going to marry wenlock's sister, "the only english girl" and so forth, which joke had become a standing one by then. but aletta could afford to laugh at it now, in the most whole-souled manner, which development was among the results of that memorable visit. all their talks together--now grave, now semi-serious, now wholly gay-- she delighted to dwell upon. this man was entirely outside her previous experience. nothing he said ever jarred, even in the slightest degree. there was no question they discussed together to which he could not find a perfectly intelligible side, even if differing; no show of impatience or of humouring her; everything treated from a philosophical, well-thought-out point of view. or, if the topic were of lighter import, the exact point where the humour came in would somehow strike them simultaneously. there was a subtle vein of sympathy between them, and to dwell upon it thrilled her with a blissful and exquisite delight. other considerations apart, it was intensely flattering, the more so as she realised that the attitude was genuine. she had met with plenty of attention during her absence from home, but her head had not been in the least turned thereby. but of all the attention she had met, none had been so grateful, so satisfying, and indeed so sweet as this. sometimes, in fact, she would wonder if she were not over-estimating its burden, but the momentary misgiving would be quenched. tone, glance, everything told her that such was not the case. yet what could he see in her, to take so much pleasure in talking with her, he who had seen so much of the world what time she herself was running about in short frocks, not so very long able to talk distinctly? how could he give so much consideration to her crude ideas--acquired and fostered, she supposed, during a not very long sojourn in a fifth-rate capital--he who had seen all the mighty capitals of both worlds, and knew some of them intimately? personally, too, where did the attraction lie? she was not even pretty, like her sister andrina, or may wenlock. yet, comparing herself with the latter, a smile spread over her face, rippling out into a low, whole-hearted laugh, all alone as she was. now the above reflections constituted just about as full and complete a tribute as aletta de la rey could have given to any man. she had no poorer an opinion of herself than had other girls of her quality and circumstance. she was aware--normally, that is--that what she lacked in attractiveness in one direction was counterbalanced by different advantages in another. yet now she found herself magnifying her defects, and almost entirely losing sight of their compensations. of a truth here too were "symptoms." thus meditating, not quite for the first time, aletta strolled along through the willows by the river bed--much more bed than "river" now, although a faint trickle had kept some of the deeper reaches fairly supplied. she was given to an occasional solitary stroll. it was good for the individual to retire sometimes into private life, was her explanation. but the other girls put--or pretended to put--a different construction upon it. they declared mischievously that there was something on between her and somebody in cape town, and she wanted to go and have a good think about him. she, for her part, only laughed, and let them think so if they wanted to. but they humoured her and her inclinations all the same, for, as we said elsewhere, aletta occupied a sort of metaphorical pedestal within her own family circle. it was a lovely morning--blue and golden and cloudless. a mirage-like shimmer arose from the veldt, and the sunlight slanted upon the facets of near rock-walls engirdling turret-shaped cone, or flat-topped mount, as though sweeping over patches of gems. a "kok-a-viek," the yellow african thrush, was calling to his mate in his melodious triple hoot among the willows hard by, and the sounds of workaday life--mellowed by distance--the lowing of cattle, and the shout of native voices, were borne to the girl's ears as she stood there, revelling, though half unconsciously, in the glow of her youth and vitality, in the sheer joy and delight of living. suddenly an old koorhaan concealed somewhere among the thorns on the opposite river bank opened his head, and emitted his long, strident crowing. another answered further off, then another, and presently the whole veldt was alive with the shrill barkings of the clamourous little bustards. then the first offender rose with an uproarious suddenness that startled aletta, and put up about ten more, which could be seen winging their way, far and near, adding their alarmed cacklings to his. something had scared the bird--something or somebody. who could it be? aletta's face flushed. was it adrian back again? he had been there that morning and had ridden off, very moody and sullen. had he thought better of it and returned? was it adrian--or--and then the flush which had spread over her cheeks and throat deepened, and her eyes shone with a glad light, for there was a hoof-stroke or two hard by--on this side, not on the opposite bank where she had expected the new-comer, whoever it might be, first to show, and then the identity of the latter was exactly as she could have wished. "i am in luck's way this morning," said colvin, dismounting. "are you indulging in a solitary meditation, miss de la rey?" she answered in the affirmative. the while he had taken in at a glance the whole picture: the tall, graceful figure against the background of trees, the lighting up of the hazel eyes, the flush of colour which rendered the face, framed within an ample white "kapje," wonderfully soft and winning, as its owner stood, with her head thrown ever so slightly back, there before him. something or other--perhaps it was the "kapje" she was wearing--recalled to his mind a somewhat similar meeting in which may wenlock constituted the other party to the transaction; but, if so, it was only to think what a long time ago that seemed, and what a change had come into and over his life since. then, as her glance fell upon his horse, and some birds dangling from the saddle: "why, you have been shooting already. tell me, do you even go to bed with a cartridge-belt on? how many birds have you got?" "brace of partridges and two koorhaan. one is a _vaal_ koorhaan, and a fine one too. it took an astonishingly long shot to bring him down. i could have brought along a blekbok, but thought i'd let him go." "why?" "oh, i didn't want the bother of loading him up--and the rest of it. he got up right under punch's feet just after i turned into the gate of the third camp. it was impossible to have missed him, for punch is as steady as a rock. so he stood, or rather ran, reprieved. no. i couldn't be bothered with him to-day." "why--to-day?" but with the words she dropped her eyes. was it before something in his glance? immediately, however, she raised them again and met his fully, bravely. "listen, aletta. i have something to tell you, and it strikes me first as a splendid augury that i should have found you like this all alone. it is of no use beating about the bush, but--give me your hand, dear, then perhaps i shall be able to tell you better." without removing her eyes from his, she put forth her hand. augury number , he thought, as the long, soft tapering fingers slipped into his. she, for her part, thought how firm, and tender, and speaking was that gaze which she met; and it was of a piece with the manner. no exuberant over-confidence which would have jarred, none of the self-effacing, stuttering diffidence, which would have sapped ever so little, even if but momentarily, the high estimation in which she held this man. could she herself be as self-possessed? "i love you, darling," he said. "i have come over this morning on purpose to tell you so. we have not known each other very long, but i have learnt to love you as i never thought it possible to love. have you not seen it?" "i don't know," she whispered. but the hand that was within his seemed to close around it with a perceptible pressure. "listen now, aletta"; and there was a softened tenderness about the mere sounding of her name that sent a thrill of delight through her whole being. "i am rather a weather-worn hulk, i fear some people might say, for you in your sweet, bright youth to condemn yourself to go through life with. yet, if you could bring yourself to face that ordeal, i believe we should make each other very happy. tell me, now, do you think you can bring yourself to face it--to love an old fogey like me?" her eyes answered him. they had never left his, and now the love-light that beamed from them was not to be mistaken. "yes, colvin," she said softly. "i think i can. but--don't call yourself names." and with the words she was gathered to him while they exchanged their first kiss. "can i love you?" she murmured unsteadily, yielding in his embrace. "can i love you, did you say? can i help it? my darling one, you are made to be loved," she uttered, in a very abandonment of passionate tenderness. "but i--why should you love me-- you who have seen so much of the world? i am so inexperienced, so ignorant. i am not even decent-looking. how can i ever make you happy?" "ignorant? inexperienced? my aletta, you would more than hold your own anywhere--perhaps will some day," he added, as though to himself. "not even decent-looking!" he echoed banteringly, and, holding her from him at arm's length, he affected to scan her up and down. "no. no presence, no grace, supremely awkward--hands like the sails of a fishing-smack." "there, that will do," laughed the girl, giving him a playful tap with one of the libelled hands, a hand which would have served as a model in a sculpture of iseult of brittany. "you are only _beginning_ to sum up my imperfections, and i am frightened already. no, really; i feel hardly inclined for a joke even. i am far, far too happy." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "kwaa-kwak-kwak! kwaa-kwak-kwak!" both started, then laughed. the old koorhaan, first disturbed across the river bed, was returning, as though some instinct notified him that the fell destroyer was harmless to-day. right overhead he came, an easy twenty-five yards' shot. instinctively colvin reached for the gun, which he had rested against an adjoining bush; but as quickly he recovered himself. "we'll grant the old squawker an amnesty to-day," he said with a laugh. "i don't think i could have missed that shot either." "kwaa-kwak-kwak! kwaa-kwak-kwak!" yelled the bird, as, hovering for a moment, it dropped down among the thorns on the very spot whence it had been first roused. then they talked on, those two, happy in the happiness which cannot often come in a lifetime--happy in the golden sunshine and the glowing summer of their lives--happy amid the rejoicing surroundings of nature, in their vastness and peace and calm. yet, away there to the north--what? the gathering cloud, black as night, sweeping down, steadily, surely--whirled along on the spreading demon-wings of war--the cloud which, bursting into lurid thunders, should overwhelm all with its blasting breath in a vortex of hideous hate and red slaughter, and woe and destitution. no; for the contemplation of this they had no mind. suddenly aletta gave a start, uttering a little cry of consternation. "there's the dinner-bell, and you haven't even off-saddled. how late we shall be!" "we shall, rather. but what does it matter? good lord, though, how the last hour has flown?" was it a suspicion born of the fact that these two shared a momentous secret that made them think stephanus exchanged more than one significant glance with his wife while they sat at dinner? he began to talk about his nephew adrian. the latter never came near them now. he had changed entirely, and seemed to have run patriotism mad. moreover, he had taken to associating with certain boers of a particularly low and disreputable type, such as hermanus delport, gideon roux, and others. the while condaas and andrina were kicking each other under the table, and aletta was feeling supremely uncomfortable. then the worthy stephanus, suddenly becoming aware that he was romping gaily over mined ground, abruptly changed the subject. but thereafter was surprise in store for him, when colvin took him aside and imparted the events of the morning. stephanus was delighted, and an additional fact, not at present to be divulged, which the other imparted to him, did not lessen his satisfaction. "_maagtig_! colvin. you are a _slim kerel_," he cried, shaking his son-in-law-elect warmly by the hand. "why, you have kept it dark between you. well, i don't know anybody i would rather give my little girl to. besides, she is almost english in her ways. but, say; it seems a strange thing that you, with ample means to live where you like, should prefer to bury yourself in an out-of-the-way place like this. of course, for us who are born to it, why it's different. we couldn't get on anywhere else." "oh, i like the life, stephanus. since i have known aletta, i have liked it more. by the way, i am under no sort of a cloud at home, if that is what you are thinking about. i could go and set up in london to-morrow if i wanted." "i was not thinking otherwise, _ou' maat_," said stephanus heartily. "let us go in and tell the wife." mrs de la rey gave both of them a good-humoured scolding. she ought to have been told first, not stephanus. girls belonged first of all to their mother. she, too, was delighted. but the cream of the joke came when they broke the news to old tant' plessis. "colvin going to marry aletta?" cried the latter sharply. "what nonsense are you telling me, gertruida? why, colvin is going to marry wenlock's sister. she is the only english girl here, and he is the only englishman, so of course he is going to marry her. i have heard mynheer--no, i mean everybody--say so." "but it isn't true, tanta, i tell you," explained mrs de la rey. "it is aletta--our aletta." "aletta?" ejaculated the old woman, upon whom it began to dawn. "aletta! _oh, mijn vaterland_! why, he is nearly old enough to be her father!" "that's a nasty one!" whispered colvin to stephanus, who was nearly losing his life in his superhuman efforts to repress a great roar. it was too much for andrina and condaas, who at the other end of the room were pretending to work. they precipitately fled, and, in a moment, splutters and squeals, muffled by a closed door, became faintly audible to those who remained. aletta had made herself scarce long before. "nearly old enough to be her father, and an englishman!" repeated tant' plessis, wagging her head. "an englishman! _oh, goeije_! was not one of her father's people good enough for her? there, gertruida. see what comes of sending her among the english to learn their ways. she comes home, and wants to marry an englishman." the air, half of horror, half of resignation, wherewith the old woman uttered these words was irresistibly comic. "well, tanta, he isn't a bad sort of an englishman, as englishmen go," cut in stephanus, winking the while at his wife. "besides, remember whom he is descended from, and shake hands and congratulate him," shoving colvin forward as he spoke. "_ja_, that is true," replied tant' plessis, somewhat mollified. "after all, his grandfather was the great and good calvinus. well, nephew, follow in his footsteps, and you will be happy. but--aletta! _oh, mijn lieve heer_! who would have thought it--aletta!" chapter one. book ii--the refugee train. the last refugee train was drawn up at the down-country departure platform at park station, johannesburg. the scene upon the platform was one of indescribable hubbub and confusion. passengers, representing all ages and sexes, vociferated in various tongues, and tumbled over piles of luggage, and swore, or snapped or whimpered according to sex or age. some, belated, thanks to a final call at the refreshment bar, charged furiously through the clamourous crowd by main force, panic-stricken lest they should lose their seats. seats? they were lucky to get any accommodation at all. carriages and compartments, cattle vans and open trucks alike, were literally crammed. the enforced republicanism of the hour and the situation crowded all classes together indiscriminately; and the man of wealth and luxurious living was jostled and shouldered by the roughest mine hand, who in habits and ideas rose little, if at all, above the level of the savage. the densely packed compartments afforded scenes and sounds of wild weird babel, being resonant with the squalling of children and the altercations of hustled and excited women, and in the open trucks men elbowed and cursed and fought for mere standing room. the while, jeering zarps, [note ], posted about the platform by twos and threes, stood enjoying the fun. they felt no call to keep the peace on this occasion, to interfere in quarrels between the enemies of their land. let these accursed uitlanders settle their own differences. they would have plenty of time to do it in before they got clear of the country, decided the guardians of law and order with a certain grim satisfaction. the train, which was of vast length, began to move slowly out of the station, and as it did so somebody, with more patriotism than sense of humour, conceived the idea of striking up "rule, britannia." it took, and the chorus rolled forth lustily from the fleeing crowd, mighty in volume, but varied--exceedingly--as to time and tune, causing the zarps, who understood english, to break into boisterous and derisive laughter, and to call out after the singers that, whatever britannia ruled, it was not the transvaal, and if she thought otherwise she had better hurry up her _rooi-baatjes_ [redcoats] and try. which comment, after all, was not without pertinence. upon others, however, the effect of the parting challenge was different. a group of armed burghers had been standing at the end of the platform, surveying, with glances of hatred and contempt, the swirling confusion of the crowd of refugees. now, as they grasped the burden of the song, several were seen to slap cartridges into their rifles, with many a threatening scowl in the direction of the train. the latter, very fortunately, had got sufficiently under way, for already several rifles were pointed at the receding trucks full of packed fugitives. the burghers were in an ugly mood, and racial feeling had reached its highest point of tension. something of a massacre might easily at that moment have resulted from the display of rash and ill-timed defiance. the result of a volley poured into those closely crowded trucks would have been too ghastly for anything. few indeed were the uitlanders who remained upon the platform as the train disappeared, and such as did wore a grave and anxious expression of countenance; and well they might, for the hour of retreat was past, and they had deliberately and of their own free will elected to stay in the republic and face the horrors and risks of war, and that at the mercy of the enemies of their countrymen. such being the case, it may be imagined that the seeing-off contingent attendant upon the departure of the last train was not large. conspicuous among it were two persons--a man and a girl. they were not together. they were not, apparently, acquainted, and they were unmistakably english. yet they were looking at each other--and had been for some time--now furtively, now openly, now in a would-be casual fashion that deceived neither. the man's attention was drawn to the girl because she was very pretty. the girl's attention might have been drawn to the man, because he represented the masculine equivalent of that form of attractiveness in her. he was of a good height, well set up, with clean-cut features and brown eyes, clear and searching, lighting up a healthy sun-browned face; a good-looking man beyond the ordinary, and one likely to attract the attention of the other sex. but the expression of countenance worn by this member of the other sex seemed to convey more than the idea of a mere casual attraction, for it passed through varying phases. now a puzzled frown knitted the brows, now the velvety-blue eyes dilated in a gaze of fixed scrutiny, then brightened into a gleam as of one who has solved a perplexing riddle, and has solved it to her complete satisfaction. then she came right up to the other, putting forth her hand, as she said demurely: "well, this is a surprise! why, whenever did you come up here?" but the stranger responded with something of a stark. the expression of his face conveyed astonishment, plain and undiluted. "pardon me," he said, slightly raising his hat. "i think there must be--er--some mistake." it was the girl's turn to exhibit amazement. then her face flushed, hardening into a set look of sullen indignation. "some mistake?" she echoed. then witheringly, "yes, i think there must be. pardon _me_, mr kershaw. i am very dense. i ought to have seen that you did not wish to know your friends in another country and under different circumstances." "yes, that is my name. but--er--really it is very remiss of me--but-- where did we meet?" may wenlock stared, as well she might. "what part are you trying to act now?" she blazed forth indignantly. then softening: "but only tell me, colvin. is it perhaps that you have reasons for not wanting them to know who you are?" with a quick anxious side glance around, as though fearful of being overheard. "pardon me again," was the reply. "but my name is not colvin." "not colvin?" was all poor may could gasp in her bewilderment. "certainly not i was christened kenneth." "but--you said your name was kershaw?" "so it is. kenneth kershaw. now you mention it, though, i have a relative named colvin: er--a first cousin." "first cousin? why, you might be his twin brother," burst forth may impulsively. "why, the voice--even your way of talking--no, i never saw such a wonderful likeness in my life." and then, catching a curious expression in the other's eyes, she suddenly remembered the position, and flushed hotly, realising how completely she must have given herself away. the man, looking at her, was thinking to himself, "what a pretty girl! what a devilish pretty girl! lucky colvin, wherever he may be! lucky as usual." but aloud he said: "is that so? i believe we used to be considered rather alike, but we haven't seen each other for quite a number of years. have you seen him lately, miss--er--miss--" "wenlock," supplemented may. "miss wenlock--thanks. now we know each other, and i cannot sufficiently appreciate the good fortune that drew me here this morning to see that trainload of fools off." even then may could hardly believe her senses. the look, the voice, the easy and perfectly unembarrassed manner, every inflection of tone even, was simply colvin reproduced. could it really be himself, trying how completely he could take her in? yet something told her it could not be. he was not addicted to practical jokes--indeed, rather disliked them. "why do you call it a trainload of fools, mr kershaw?" she said; "i am more inclined to think that is the word for some of us who are left behind." "oh, they are. for instance, it is strange how sparsely distributed is a sense of humour and of the eternal fitness of things! as if race feeling is not at sufficiently high pressure already, those idiots must needs flourish the red rag in the dutchmen's faces. the patriotic song may be all right in its proper place, but it doesn't come well from a crowd engaged in running away as fast as its legs--or, in this case its wheels--can carry it. for two pins those fellows over there," designating the group of sullen, scowling burghers, "would have blazed into the whole mob." the group referred to comprised one unit to whom the speaker was clearly an object of very great interest indeed; not on account of the words just uttered, for they had been spoken in by no means a loud tone, and the distance was great enough to render them quite inaudible. this man had been among the first to level his rifle at the receding train, and the contemptuous hatred stamped upon the countenances of the group had in no instance been shown more plainly and uncompromisingly than upon that of this one. but from the moment he had caught sight of these two conversing at the other end of the platform, that sinister expression had perceptibly deepened. at the same time he had drawn back into the centre of his fellow-burghers, as though desirous of remaining unobserved, while continuing to watch, and that narrowly, the object of his rancour. the latter, serenely unconscious of being a disturbing factor in the equanimity of anybody, went on: "i suppose you and my--er--cousin are pretty friendly--eh, miss wenlock?" "oh yes. we lived next door to each other down in the colony, and so of course we saw a good deal of each other." and then she coloured again, remembering how readily and naturally she had addressed this man by his supposed christian name. what must he be thinking of her? "i see," he answered, tranquilly. "and so you took me for him. that isn't so very strange either." strange! great heavens! even yet may was hardly quite sure the whole thing was not a make-believe. strange? why, even this man's way of accepting the situation, passing over all detail, taking everything for granted, was colvin's way. "now that we have made each other's acquaintance in this very unexpected manner, miss wenlock, perhaps you will allow me to see you, at any rate, a part of your way home. you might tell me a little about my relative. where are you staying, by the way?" "just this side doornfontein. yes. i shall be delighted, if i am not taking you out of your way." "who are you, _kerel_, and have you a permit to remain here?" interrupted, in dutch, the peremptory voice of a zarp. now "kerel"--meaning in this context "fellow"--is a pretty familiar, not to say impudent, form of address as proceeding from a common policeman. the tone, too, was open to objection on the same ground. but may, glancing at her new friend, noticed that he seemed in no wise ruffled thereby. he merely glanced at his interlocutor as though the latter had asked him for the time. "i have applied for a permit and am awaiting it," he answered, in the same language. "so, my good friend, don't bother, but go and drink my health with your mates." the zarp's hand closed readily upon the image and superscription of oom paul, and kenneth kershaw and his companion passed out of the station. "oh, you are so like col--er--your cousin," was may's comment on the above transaction. "that is exactly how he would have treated matters under the circumstances. now, frank would have wanted to go for the man at once, and then what a row there would have been! and i hate rows." "so do i. but--who's frank?" "my brother. he is perfectly rabid ever since this trouble has begun. he says he never can look at a dutchman now without wanting to fight him." "so? well, now is his opportunity. is he up here?" "oh no. down in the colony. i am staying up here with some relatives. i wanted to go back, but they wouldn't let me. they have interest with the government at pretoria, and say that it is safer, if anything, here than down in the colony." as they walked along, taking the road which runs parallel with the railway line in the direction of doornfontein, something of the state of affairs was apparent in the utter stagnation that prevailed. a deserted look was upon everything. the tram service had ceased, and there was not a vehicle to be seen down the long vista of road. houses shut up and abandoned, their blinds down, and in many cases with broken windows, spoke eloquently of the prevailing desolation, and save for a subdued-looking native or two the street was deserted; while, dominating all, the fort on hospital hill frowned down flat and threatening, ready to let loose its thunders of ruin and of death. turning a corner suddenly, a troop of armed burghers debouched into the road--hard, weather-beaten, bearded men, wearing wide hats and bandoliers full of cartridges and with rifle on thigh. they were riding in no particular order, and most of them were smoking pipes. many a head was turned, and shaggy brows were knit in sullen hatred, at the sight of the tall englishman and his very attractive companion, as they rode by. for a moment their leader seemed disposed to halt and call the pedestrians to account, then appeared to think better of it. but that speculation was rife as to their identity was only too clear. may wenlock chatted brightly to her new acquaintance as they walked. she was naturally of a communicative disposition, and it was not long before she had put him into possession of the main facts and circumstances and surroundings of her life. without the least consciousness of the fact on her part, without seemingly vivid interest on his, he had yet manoeuvred the conversation so that it was confined mainly to the time during which she had known colvin, on the subject of whom, before she had uttered a dozen sentences, she had, to the practised eye and ear of her companion, completely given herself away. where was colvin now? why, at home, she supposed, on his own place, close to theirs. no wonder she had been so startled at the extraordinary likeness. anyhow, the mistake was very excusable. was it not? "it was a very fortunate mistake for me," kenneth replied. "i hope we may meet again," he went on, for by this time they were at her own door. he could even read what was passing in her mind--how she was treading down an impulse to ask him in, remembering that, after all, their introduction had been startlingly unconventional. "yes, indeed, i hope we may," she answered. "at any rate, you know where i'm staying. good-bye. thanks so much for bringing me back." kenneth kershaw turned away, and as he strolled along his thoughts were busy. "by jove, that _is_ a pretty little girl," he was saying to himself. "not quite up to the mark in other ways perhaps, but pretty enough even to make up for that," with a recollection of the bright smile, and the look in the sea-blue eyes, which had accompanied the farewell handclasp. "and colvin? she let go a lot about him. likely to turn up here, is he? reputed to stand in too much with the boers! suspicion of entanglement with a boer girl--she shut up like an oyster when she came to that part, though. well, well. this day's work may turn out not bad. colvin on this side, the two peas likeness between us, that dear little girl in there whom i can simply twist round my finger, and turn to any account, _and_ the war! strange if my luck doesn't take a sudden turn in the right direction. colvin, the only obstacle, worth reckoning on, that is. obstacles have to be removed sometimes. yes, his luck has run too long. hurrah for the war?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . from the letters z.a.r.p. (zuid afrikaansche republieke politie--south african republic's police). the joke has passed into a recognised popular term. chapter two. a transvaal official. petrus johannes stephanus gerhardus du plessis, commonly known to his kinsfolk and acquaintance and to the crowd at large as piet plessis, was a high official in not the least important department of the transvaal civil service. born in the free state, and educated--well educated--in holland, he combined the _slim_ qualities of the boer with the shrewd, technical, worldly-wisdom of the hollander. he was now of middle age and somewhat portly of person, and withal a jolly, genial dutchman, whose ringing laugh and jovial manner conveyed the idea of open-hearted frankness to the last degree. those who ran away with that impression had their education in character-studying to complete. for all his apparent open-heartedness, piet plessis was never known by word or wink to "give away" anything. and he could have given away some "things" of a very strange and startling nature had he so chosen. did a transport rider bringing up loads of government goods from the swaziland border succumb to the indiscretion of peeping into certain of the cases, and subsequently babble thereon in his cups, it was not strange that he should be murdered by his own kafirs on the return journey, because that sort of thing does happen sometimes, though not often. was the dead body of a mysterious foreigner found one morning in the grand stand on the racecourse at johannesburg, the hand grasping a revolver pointed at the heart, through which was a neatly drilled bullet-hole, with no burn of powder about the clothing? this was not strange, for does not everybody know that the hand of a dead person will sometimes grasp an object tightly for hours after death--though not often? and doctors will sometimes disagree, though not often? did a prominent member of the upper raad, who owned a chattering wife, make an over-protracted sojourn in the cape peninsula for the benefit of the lady's health? that too was not strange, for it happens sometimes. and if piet plessis' private office had very thick walls and double doors-- padded--this was not strange either, for is not the climate of the transvaal fairly bleak during quite half the year? on many an incident, strange, suspicious, or startling--or all three, had his acquaintance striven to pump piet plessis--in club, or bar, or society drawing-room; but they might as well have expected to dig sovereigns out of the billiard cues in the one or real ten-year-old out of the "special scotch" bottles in the other, or the precise ages of any three ladies of a middle time of life in the third. tact and readiness of resource are highly important official ingredients. piet plessis possessed both to a consummate degree, which may have had to do with the fact that he was now a very important official indeed. piet plessis and stephanus de la rey were second cousins. it is significant of the wide ramifications through which relationship extends among the dutch inhabitants of south africa, that the high transvaal official and the well-to-do cape colony boer should be so near akin. they had hardly seen each other for some years, but intercourse between them had been renewed in the shape of a cordial invitation to aletta to come up and spend some time in the transvaal. the girl was delighted. her patriotic enthusiasm, though somewhat sobered down of late, yielding to more personal and individual considerations, was not dead by any means. to visit pretoria under the auspices of one who knew all the secrets of the government, opened out before her unbounded possibilities in the way of a vivid daily interest at that critical period. she pictured herself in the confidence of her kinsman, and he was in the confidence of the president. what would she not hear!--what would she not know! but, as a preliminary, she little knew her kinsman aforesaid. but piet while keeping his own secrets and those of the president to himself, gave her a welcome that left nothing to be desired. so, too, did his wife, a quiet woman, half-way through the thirties, rather good-looking, but retiring and domesticated--not at all the sort of wife for a public man, declared his acquaintance; wherein they were wrong, for mrs plessis made all the better hostess, in that she cared nothing for state affairs, desiring only to be left to look after her household in peace and quietness. piet, himself, moreover had good reason to prefer her that way, inasmuch as he could seek the repose of his domestic circle without being harried by all sorts of questions he had no intention of answering. he received the news of aletta's engagement with a burst of genial laughter, evoked less by reason of the fact itself than by the particulars thereof. "so, aletta?" he said. "an englishman! and that is the culmination of all your exuberant patriotism, is it? an englishman? well, it might be worse. you might have got taken by one of those _rooi-baatje_ officers--so many of you girls down at the cape seem to go mad on them. bah, they are too often an impecunious lot, all debts and gold stripe"--(the reader must bear in mind that racial animus was at its highest tension, and that the speaker was a transvaal official). "you should see them a few years later, as i have seen them, with very little half-pay and very large family, living cheap at some wretched belgian town. still--an englishman!" "but there are englishmen and englishmen, cousin piet," returned aletta, laughing as one could afford to do who was supremely conscious that the laugh was all on her own side. "wait till you see this one. he is not in the least like the rest." "oh no. of course not. how could he be, if your choice has fallen upon him? well, well. we thought we could have done much better for you up here, but you have taken the bit between your teeth so there's an end of it. is he coming up here, then?" "yes, in a day or two. he came with me as far as bloemfontein--wouldn't come all the way yet--thought i had better have a little while alone with you and anna, so that we might get sort of acquainted. you see, we hardly know each other yet." "why, i feel that we rather do already, aletta," replied her kinsman heartily, for he was charmed with her taking manner and general appearance. he had expected her to prove presentable, if a bit shy. but there was nothing of the latter about her. what an acquisition she would be to that unpretentious but pretty house of his just outside pretoria! and in it aletta was destined to pass some very happy days. to begin with, the capital of the principal dutch republic stood to her as a kind of mecca, viewed in the light of her former lofty ideals; to others, of course, it was just a pretty, leafy little town, nestling between its surrounding hills. brother officials of piet's would often come to the house--men who hitherto had been but names to her; genial, highly cultured gentlemen, differing pole-wide from the black-browed conspiring guy fawkes--such as the colonial papers had delighted in painting them. uitlanders too, with a grievance of course, would frequently show up: jolly, jovial, well-to-do looking, grievance and all; and at first it fairly puzzled her to note on what excellent terms they appeared to stand with their theoretical tyrants and oppressors. sometimes, too, she got more than a passing glimpse of the president himself. here again she failed to identify the perfidious ogre she had so often seen portrayed, both in type and pencil, by the newspapers aforesaid. nay, more, she was even heretical enough to wonder whether if that personality, with all its shrewd intelligence, had been on the english side, ample tribute would not have been paid even to the outward aspect of the man--so far only described to be held up to repulsion and ridicule--the strong face, the impassive reticence, wherein alone lay a world of diplomatic might--the long stern record of pioneer, _voortrekker_, leader of men; the opening up of wild uncivilised lands-- bearing a man's part in wresting the wilderness from the inheritance of savagery to render it the heritage of posterity, and the unwavering fixity of purpose wherewith he had devoted every energy to preserving it for his own people and their children's children. if her sojourn in cape town had been a liberal education to aletta, truly pretoria constituted a worthy continuation of the same. "now look at that, piet," she said, a day or two after her arrival, exhibiting an excellent portrait of her _fiance_. "didn't i tell you there were englishmen _and_ englishmen. now, this one is not like the rest. is he?" "no. i don't know that he is," replied piet plessis, scanning the likeness intently. but to himself he was saying, "_so_! i must have a few inquiries made. i have seen that worthy before. oh yes, i have." but to her, "so he has been a neighbour of yours the last year or so, aletta?" "yes. he was already settled down on his own place some time before i came home." "was he? never went off it, i suppose?" "no"--wonderingly. "he has been there since he came back from rhodesia, he and frank wenlock together. at least, he was looking out for a farm at first, while he was staying with the wenlocks. then he got one and hasn't been off it since." "not?" "no--except to go into schalkburg now and then, or to come and see us." "oh yes. to come and see you?" rejoined piet, jocosely. "hasn't been up here at all of late, eh?" "he has been up here before, but not lately, not within the last year. i think longer, because he served through the matabele rising. but he was up in rhodesia some little while after that." "was he? oh yes," said the diplomatic piet, in a tone as though by now only politely interested in the subject. but the while he was, to all outward appearances, turning the photograph round and round listlessly, but in reality scrutinising it keenly, now obliquely from the top corner, now sideways. "how long did you say you had been engaged, aletta?" "just over two months," answered the girl, her eyes brightening. "_ach_! he isn't listening to you at all, aletta," struck in the partner of piet's joys and sorrows, looking up from her book. "he has forgotten all about mr kershaw by this time, and is thinking over the last political move. what did you say his name was--mr kershaw's, i mean?" "colvin. it's a family surname turned into a christian name. oh, and such a joke, anna! you should have heard tant' plessis on that very thing," and she proceeded to narrate how that perverse old relative had insisted on saddling upon her _fiance_ a historic protestant reformer of the sixteenth-century for grandfather. piet fairly shouted with mirth. "old tant' katrina! _ja_, she was a _kwaai vrouw_!" he cried. "i have good reason to remember her. when we were young ones, at rondavel, the other side heilbron, she would come and stop there for any time. she was always saying we didn't get enough _strop_ and worrying the _ou' baas_ to give us more. he only laughed at her--and one day she wanted to give us some herself. but we wouldn't take it. we snatched the _strop_ from her and ran away. but we had to spend a week dodging her. she had got a broomstick then. she shied it at us one day, and hit my brother sarel--the one that is in bremersdorp now--over the leg. he couldn't walk straight for about six months after. then she and the _ou' baas_ had words, and she cleared out _ja_, she _was_ a _kwaai vrouw_. and now she is with stephanus! well, well. but aletta, what did she say to your being engaged to an englishman?" "oh, she consoled herself that his grandfather was the great calvinus," answered aletta, breaking into a peal of laughter over the recollection. "mynheer had said so: that was enough for her." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ a few days after this colvin arrived in person, and then it seemed to aletta that she had nothing left to wish for. but he would not allow her to give him all her time exclusively. she had certain social calls upon it, and, in justice to her entertainers, these must not be set aside. piet plessis had been the first to notice this, and was capable of appreciating it, for he himself was astonished at the brightening effect the presence of aletta had shed within his home. "did i not tell you," she would cry triumphantly, "that this englishman was not like other englishmen?" and piet would laughingly agree. colvin himself did not fail to note the pride and delight wherewith she would "produce" him--as he put it--to every fresh batch of people whose acquaintance he made. once or twice he took her to task for it. "you know, darling," he would say, with a lurking amusement in his eyes, "it is not `up to date' to show feeling. you ought, for instance, to appear just languidly tolerant of my presence at all--rather as if i were of no account in the world's scheme except to fetch and carry." "oh, ought i?" she would answer. "well, when i see you want me to, i will try and begin." those were happy days--for these two at any rate. for those outside the enchanted portal they were days of dark anxiety; yet on the surface little of this appeared. people came and went as usual. to judge from the ordinary manner of piet plessis, no one would have suspected the mind of that inscrutable official to be working and scheming to its utmost capacity. he was a good deal away from home, returning late, or not at all, and then with a cheerful breezy apology for the calls upon his time entailed by a confoundedly serious political outlook. but he had at once made colvin free of the house, and the latter was grateful for the quiet uninterrupted retreat thus afforded from the turmoil of excitement and wild talk outside; and not the least happy hours were those he spent in the cool, bosky garden, while aletta sat at her work, and talked to him, and they grew to know each other more and more, and every day served but to deepen their mutual understanding, and love, and appreciation. so the days wore on, and then from the bright, halcyon blue, now constituting the lives of the twain, the bolt fell, and the name thereof was written in but three letters--lurid letters traced in blood-- war! yes, the storm had burst at last. the preliminary clouding over, the flashes and mutterings, distant but drawing nearer, had culminated in a great and terrible outburst, in the thunder roar of cannon along nearly a thousand miles of border. the historical "ultimatum" had been delivered. the land which but few years ago, comparatively speaking, had been inhabited, and that hot too thickly, by a population of primitive farmers, had thrown down the gauntlet in the face of the valour and wealth and boundless resource of the empire on which the sun never sets. and the challenge had been met in the only possible way, and once more two christian and civilised races were shedding each other's blood like water, while countless swarms of dark-skinned and savage heathen stood by and looked on. chapter three. his honour the president. "we shall have to turn you into a prisoner of war, colvin," said piet plessis a week or so after the breaking out of hostilities. "and, as i feel sort of responsible for your safe custody, my orders to you as your custodian are to go over to the grand, now, at once, and pack up your traps and bring them here. i'd have suggested it before, but everything was so _uit-makaar_, and i didn't know whether you might not have been wanting to go down-country again." whereby it is manifest that the inquiries we heard piet promise to set afloat had turned out satisfactory, albeit their burden and the result he had characteristically kept to himself. "no. i don't feel that way inclined, piet," answered colvin. "i am a sort of cosmopolitan rover, without ties--except such as are here," he added significantly. "besides, it's more interesting watching the row from behind your lines than from behind those of the other side. by the way, we are quite alone, just the two of us. what show do you think your crowd has got?" "what show?" said the other, after an instinctive glance on either side. "look here, colvin. you're one of us now. if anybody who wasn't had asked me that question i should have said: `it is all in the hands of providence, and our cause is just.' now i say: `it is all within the potentialities of politics, and the potentialities of politics spell uncertainty.' what show? every show. we shall see. but if you really are wanting to go down-country any time later, i dare say i could always get you through the lines." "oh, we'll think of that later. i might feel inclined to go and see some of the fighting--" "what's that? what might you feel inclined to do?" interrupted the voice of aletta, who with mrs plessis had just come out on the back _stoep_, where the above conversation was taking place. "colvin, i am astonished at you! see some of the fighting indeed! do you think i shall let you?" she had locked her hands together round his arm, just resting her head against his shoulder, and stood facing the other two, with the prettiest air of possession. piet plessis spluttered: "ho, ho! colvin! a sort of cosmopolitan rover without ties; isn't that what you were saying just now? without ties? ho, ho, ho!" and the jolly dutchman shouted himself into a big fit of coughing. "he is one of us now, is he not, piet?" went on the girl, a tender pride shining from her eyes. "yet he talks about going to fight against us. yes, you were saying that, colvin. i heard you when we came out." "little termagant!" he rejoined lovingly, drawing one of the hands which was linked round his arm into his. "i wasn't talking about fighting against anybody. i said i might go and _see_ some of the fighting. you may go and see a bull-fight, you know, but you needn't necessarily be taking part in it. in fact, the performers on both sides would object, and that in the most practical manner, to your doing so. now, i meant to go as a non-combatant. sort of war-correspondent business." "well, we are not going to let you do anything of the sort," answered aletta decisively. "are we, piet? why don't you make a prisoner of war of him, then he can't do as he pleases?" "`he is one of us now,'" quoted colvin, innocently. "i believe those were the words. how can `one of us' be a prisoner of war?" piet laughed at this deft turning of the tables. "go away and get your traps, man," he said, "then you'll be all snug and fixed up here by lunch-time. here's the buggy," as the sound of wheels came through from the front of the house. "i must get back to office. so long?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ every day some fresh news from the seat of war came flowing in-- beginning with the capture of the armoured train at kraaipan, historical as the first overt act of hostility, the investment of kimberley and mafeking, the reverse at elandslaagte, and the death of the british general, and, later on, the arrival of a good many british prisoners. and over and above authenticated news, of course wild rumour was busy, magnifying this or that skirmish into a boer victory, diminishing losses, and playing general skittles with most of the facts of the particular event reported, as is invariably the case on either side of the contested field. but what struck colvin kershaw after the first week of excitement was the calm, matter-of-fact way in which it was received by the crowd at large. news which would have thrown cape town or durban into a perfect delirium, was treated in pretoria as so much matter of course, and only to be expected. day after day, he would watch the muster of burghers or the entraining of the guns, great and small, of the staats artillerie, and here again the sober, almost phlegmatic demeanour of the combatants was remarkable. rough, weather-beaten, somewhat melancholy-looking men were these mounted burghers--many of them large and powerful of stature. they bestrode wiry, undersized nags--which bore besides their riders the frugal ration of biltong and biscuit, with which the boer can get along for days. slung round with well-filled bandolier, rifle on thigh, and mostly wearing weather-worn broad-brimmed hats--though some of the older ones were crowned with the white chimney-pot--they would muster in front of the dutch reformed church, and pace forth, singing perhaps a dutch hymn or a snatch of the "volkslied"--most of them smoking their pipes, tranquil, phlegmatic, as though they were all going home again. the hooraying and handshaking and handkerchief-waving and flag-wagging which would have accompanied a british combatant force under like circumstances, would be conspicuous by its absence. while watching such a muster, a man, who was standing among the spectators, turned at her voice and, lifting his hat, shook hands with aletta. he was a tall gentlemanly-looking man, with a fair beard and moustache worn after the vandyke cut, and was a hollander with a portuguese name. he, too, had been a high government official. "i haven't seen you for a long time, dr da costa," said aletta. "i thought you had gone to the front." "no. i am going very soon, though." then, following the direction of his glance, she introduced him to colvin. "what do you think of our main line of defence?" he went on, speaking english with hardly an accent. "those men have the most perfect faith in themselves and their cause." "yes, they look business-like," replied colvin, critically scanning the long string of mounted burghers as they filed past, most of them smoking their pipes, and chatting to each other in a placid undertone. "we had some of their kind in matabeleland during the rising in ' , and they were right good men." "ah! so you were out in the matabele rebellion?" said da costa, looking at the other with newly-awakened interest. "yes, had to be." "i see. and are you, may i ask, likely to be out in this campaign?" "not in the least, unless as a spectator. here i am not needed--there i was:--which makes all the difference." "if you are, i hope we may meet in the field. i shall be pleased to show you all you may be wishing to see to the best advantage." "now, dr da costa, you are not to encourage him," struck in aletta. "mr kershaw is not going to be shot at at all. he is not needed, as he says, and--you are not to encourage him." the other, who had heard of piet plessis' attractive kinswoman and her english _fiance_, smiled good-naturedly. then, to change the conversation, he went on: "did you make a long stay at johannesburg, mr kershaw?" "at johannesburg?" echoed colvin. "yes. didn't i see you in the rand club about a fortnight ago? and again on pritchard street. someone told me it was a mr kershaw." "someone told you all wrong then, doctor, for i came right through johannesburg. i never even got out of the train there." "that's odd," said da costa, with a momentary twinkle in his eye, as though he didn't believe a word of this statement. "it must have been only a likeness," he added tactfully. "but the name," went on aletta, opening her eyes. "it's strange they should have got hold of the name." "very, because, as i said, i didn't so much as get out of the train, let alone take a stroll as far as pritchard street, let alone the rand club, which is farther," said colvin. "well, we most of us have a `double' somewhere." which was precisely the remark made by the jovial piet, when the occurrence was narrated to him on their return home. but for once his official instinct of reticence, even in trifling matters, was misplaced, had he but known it. had he imparted the results of those enquiries he had caused to be made, what a deal of sorrow, and mistrust, and heart-wringing might have been thereafter saved! "is that man we met to-day going out with the ambulance department?" asked colvin. "who, da costa? ambulance department?" echoed piet, wonderingly. "oh, i see," with a shout of laughter. "no fear. he's not a medico. he's a lawyer--running hard for a judgeship. but i say, colvin, would you like to go up and see the president this afternoon? i think we could get at the old man to-day." "just what i would like." "and, colvin," struck in aletta, "you are not to look upon oom paul as an old bear, as most english do. remember, i have a great admiration for him." colvin promised to keep this fact in mind when forming his opinion, and in due course they arrived at the unpretentious-looking bungalow which was the private residence of one of the most famed personalities of modern times. as they went up between the stone lions which guarded, as it were, the entrance, they passed a german officer coming down the steps, a straight martial figure, with upward-pointing moustaches _a la_ kaiser wilhelm, and wearing the uniform of the staats artillerie. he exchanged a salute with piet, and the latter halted and took him aside for a minute's conversation. "that's all right, colvin," he said, rejoining him, while with a parting salute the german strode on. "he has just come out. says the old man is in a pretty good-humour." the president was seated in a substantial armchair as they were shown in. he was likewise smoking a substantial pipe. this looked homely. as piet introduced colvin, his honour did not rise, but merely extended a massive hand, uttering a single monosyllabic word of greeting. "_daag_!" "_daag, oom_," responded colvin, as he shook the presidential dexter, right heartily. his honour, however, subsided into silence, during which piet plessis entertained him with a running comment on the lighter aspect of day-to-day events, ignoring _the_ situation of the hour. "who is the englishman?" said the old man at last, designating colvin with a wave of his pipe-stem. piet explained that he was engaged to be married to a near kinswoman of his who was staying with him. the presidential features displayed some faint show of interest. "your kinswoman!" he said. "whose daughter is she?" "stephanus de la reys, mynheer. he lives in the cape colony." "de la rey! _ja_, that is a good name, de la rey," replied the president, nodding approvingly. "but--an englishman!" then, turning to colvin, he said, still speaking in dutch. "can you talk our language?" "_ja, oom_," came the hearty response. during the conversational nothings fired off so volubly by piet plessis, he had been studying this wonderful old man before him, and in the strong massive face could read the extraordinary and iron will-power which had made its owner the prominent figure in history that he was. something of aletta's thoughts came into his mind, and he too was wondering whether, had this born leader of men thrown in his gigantic influence on the british side, he would not have met with greater appreciation, nay would not his very defects be held to be rugged virtues? being thus immersed, he failed to observe a grim tightening of the mouth, as he uttered that hearty and, as he thought, deferential reply. "have you been here before?" repeated his catechiser. "_ja, oom_," replied colvin. and then there was no mistaking the change which came over his honour's countenance. he flushed, and a heavy frown darkened his brows, as removing his pipe from his mouth, he rolled out in deep, chest notes, like the bark of an angry mastiff. "_is nie jou oom nie. ik is die president_!" ["i am not your uncle. i am the president."] the tone went up on an ascending scale, ending loud and staccato. colvin, for a moment dumfoundered, hastened to apologise, then with the utmost suavity of assurance proceeded to explain that he himself owned an uncle whom he deeply revered, and who bore a most extraordinary resemblance to "mynheer president." then, he deftly went on to inquire about his honour's earlier experiences in the old _voortrekker_ days, expressing boundless admiration for those wonderful pioneers, and as he was really well up in their history, the old man, quite mollified, was soon descanting with unusual volubility on the subject of his early doings. mean while coffee was brought in, and, as soon after as he could, astute piet plessis, seeing the conversation was taking a turn likely to excite his honour, took the opportunity of terminating the visit. "look after him, piet," said the old man as he gave them his hand, and there was the nearest approach to a smile lurking about his mouth. "look after him. he is an englishman, but he is going to marry your cousin. see that he does not get into any mischief." "say, piet?" said colvin when they were well out in the street again, "i believe i put my foot in it some." "oh, rather!" answered the other, who could hardly speak for spluttering. "you're not the only one, though, if the truth were known. you see it was all very well twenty years ago and all that to call him oom paul. but now the old man is rather sick of it. only think, every dirty little jew `winkler' calling him `oom.' besides, he's a much bigger man now and likes to be treated with a certain amount of state." but not until he got safely home could piet give full vent to his mirth, and then he literally laughed till he cried. "you should have seen him, anna," he spluttered between his tears. "oh, aletta, you should have heard him. telling the _ou' baas_, so sweetly too, that he reminded him of an uncle of his whom he deeply revered. oh, oh, you should have been there! i simply didn't dare look up. i should have disgraced myself for ever if i had." "well, it had its effect," protested colvin, who was laughing over the recollection almost as hard as piet. "it smoothed his feathers at once." "really? no, really did it?" cried aletta, who for her part had gone off into rippling peals. "rather, it did," confirmed piet. "oh, oh, oh! `_is nie jou oom nie. ik is die president_!' oh, oh, oh! i shall choke directly." and he very nearly did. chapter four. that other kershaw. since that strange chance meeting on the platform at park station, life seemed much brighter for may wenlock. she had come up there in a fit of the dolefullest dumps, as she herself put it, and in fact those with whom she sojourned hardly recognised her for the blithe, light-hearted girl she had been the year before. they even tentatively rallied her, but she brusquely disclaimed any reason other than that she was utterly and entirely sick of the farm, that its eternal monotony got upon her nerves, and a very little more of it would have driven her crazy. yet she might about as well have stayed where she was, for the erewhile great whirling gold town was now as a city of the dead. all who could do so had cleared out--tumbling over each other's heels in their eagerness to get away--as we have seen. of all the war-talk and excitement she was heartily sick. there was nothing to take her out of herself, no fun, no gaiety, no life; the streets, lines upon lines of abandoned houses and shuttered-up shops. it was as a city ravaged by pestilence from end to end. james dixon, her relative's husband, was a broker, and had been a contractor. he had been regarded of late with somewhat of a suspicious eye--by his own countrymen that is--and dark hints were not wanting to the effect that he stood in too well with the government, as against british interests. in what particular way he did so was never formulated, but it was sufficient in those days to hint. anyway he remained on, serene and untroubled, what time others had fled. this, of course, to the minds of the hinters, confirmed every suspicion. may had never been particularly fond of these people, although she had got on with them well enough. but then there had been plenty of outside life and diversion. now that she was thrown upon them almost entirely, she wondered how she could ever have found mary dixon other than the tiresome woman she was--without an idea outside her brood, the four units composing which were always noisy and quarrelsome, never too clean, and generally and all-round ill behaved. she had come up to johannesburg just before the crisis had reached a climax--and now, there she was and there she must stay. of course there was that beneath her _ennui_ and restlessness which she did not impart to her relatives. in her hours of solitude--and these were too many for one of her age and temperament and abundant attractions--there always arose in her mind a vivid recollection of what she had felt on hearing of colvin kershaw's engagement. it was not so entirely unexpected, for her jealous misgivings had been gnawing into and corroding her mind for some time past. yet, when it came, the shock had been hardly the less acute. he had treated her shamefully--she declared to herself--yes, wickedly, cruelly, abominably. why had he made her care for him, only to--do as he had done? if only she could make him suffer for it--but--how could she? wild, revengeful plans scorched through her brain--among them that of revealing everything to aletta. then the ugly dutch girl could have the reversion of his kisses and soft words. but the only consideration that kept her from this was a conviction that such a course would not weigh with aletta, would defeat its own object, and turn herself into a laughing stock. it certainly would if aletta loved him as she herself had done--and how could aletta do otherwise? thought poor may to herself with a sob, and a filling of the eyes like a rain shower breaking upon a stormy sunset. she hated him now, she told herself again and again. but--did she? that sob would often repeat itself to give the lie to the illusion. she had not seen him since hearing the--to her--baleful news; but this, to do him justice, was not his fault. he had come over to spring holt to bid them good-bye before leaving for the transvaal, but she had not appeared--pleading a headache which was not all pretence--the fact being that she dared not trust herself. but of late an intense longing had been upon her to behold him once more, and when her glance had lighted upon him at the railway station among the crowd, she forgot everything in the joy of the moment. and--it was not he after all. even then somehow her disappointment was less keen than she could have thought possible. could it be that the other was so exactly his counterpart that at times, even subsequent to their first acquaintance, she could hardly believe it was not colvin himself, for some motive of his own, playing a part? for their first acquaintance had grown and ripened. kenneth kershaw had lost no time in calling, in fact he had a slight acquaintance with jim dixon already, and as time went on his visits became more and more frequent till they were almost daily. whereupon jim dixon began to rally his very attractive young kinswoman. this, at first, annoyed the latter. he was not a refined man, and his jests were on his own level. more than once he fired them off on the object of them personally, and kenneth had looked much as colvin would have looked under the circumstances. then may had affected to take them in good part, with an eye to information. who was this mr kershaw, she asked, and what was he doing up there? but jim dixon's reply was vague. he had been there some two years, he believed, but he must have been longer in the country, because he could talk dutch quite well. what was his business? nobody knew. he was one of those customers who didn't give themselves away. like a good many more up there he had got along sort of "scratch"; but it was said he had made a tidyish bit in the boom, end of last year. but he was a tip-top swell, any one could see that. "nothing like capturing one of these english swells, may," concluded jim, with a knowing wink. "make hay while the sun shines." and we dare not swear that the aspirate in that fragrant foodstuff for the equine race was over distinctly sounded. kenneth, for his part, was genuinely attracted by the girl. her relatives he at once set down in his own mind as unmitigated outsiders, but there was the making of something good about may herself. times, too, were desperately dull. he hardly knew why he had elected to remain in the transvaal, except on the principle of "sitting on the fence." it was by no means certain that oom paul would not remain cock of the walk, in which eventuality he thought he saw the road to some valuable pickings. and now this girl had come into his way to brighten it. and she did brighten it. she was so natural, so transparent. he could turn her mind inside out any moment he chose. he had very quickly, and with hardly a question, discovered the _raison d'etre_ of her partiality for himself, the pleasure she had seemed to take in being with him. she had talked about colvin, then, when designedly, he had led the conversation to some other subject, she had always brought it back to colvin, in a lingering wistful way that told its own tale over and over again. but this, too, had ceased, and she gradually talked less and less of colvin, and seemed to listen with increased interest to colvin's facsimile. "there's where i score," said kenneth to himself, "and i am going to work the circumstance for all it is worth." this working of the circumstance was to be a means to an end, and that end was that he meant to marry may wenlock. why did he? she was not quite of his class. he had seen her surroundings, as represented immediately, at any rate, and they had revolted him. well, he could raise her above her surroundings, besides the very fact of her coming of the stock she did was not without its advantages. she would be all the more fitted to bear her part in the adventure he was planning: would have no superfine scruples or misgivings as to accepting the splendid--the really dazzling destiny he had mapped out for her--to share with him. she, in a measure, had supplied the key to the opening of that golden possibility of the future, had brought it within really tangible reach, therefore she should share it. and this possibility, this adventure, was worth staking all for--even life itself. it needed boldness, judgment, utter unscrupulousness, and he possessed all three. it was vast--it was magnificent. and then the beauty of the girl appealed powerfully to his physical nature. those sea-blue velvety eyes, those waves of hair in rippling heavy gold, those full red lips, the smooth skin, a mixture of sun-kiss and the healthy flush of blood underneath, the firm rounded figure--that should all be his, he would think when alone with his own reflections in a perfect whirl of passion, after one of those long interviews or walks with may that had now become so frequent, and to himself so amazingly sweet. yet towards her he was ever careful to veil any indication of feeling. colvin himself could hardly have been more utterly indifferent so far as all outward manifestations were concerned. one day, however, he slipped. they had been out together and may had been more than ordinarily sweet and winning. it was dusk, and he was bidding her farewell within her temporary home. they had the house to themselves, moreover, save for the native boy in the kitchen. the others were out somewhere. it seemed to him that in the face looking up into his the lips were raised temptingly. his blood was in a whirl. in a moment she was in his embrace, and he kissed them full and passionately. he was hardly prepared for what followed. she wrenched herself from him with a sinuous strength for which he would scarcely have given her credit. "why did you do that?" she blazed forth, and he could see that her face grew white and quivering as she confronted him in the dusk. "why did you? heavens! are all men alike that they think a girl is only made to be their plaything? i hate them. yes, i hate them all." the fierce bitterness of her tone was so incisive, so genuine, that most men under the circumstances would have felt extremely foolish, and looked correspondingly abject. into kenneth kershaw's very heart her words seemed to cut like so many whip lashes. by a mighty effort he restrained himself from pleading provocation, feeling, any mitigation whatever; which would have been the worst line he could possibly have taken. instead he adopted a kind of quietly resigned tone, with just a touch of the dignified; apologetic, yet without a trace of abjectness-- which was the best. "may, dear, forgive me," he said. "i was not thinking, i suppose. have i offended you beyond recall? well, i must pay the penalty; for of course you are going to tell me you never want to set eyes on me again." he knew how to play his cards. even then his words seemed to open a dreadful blank before her mind's eye. not to set eyes on him again? he seemed to mean it, too. that air of sad self-composure with which he had spoken them disarmed her, and her anger melted. "no, no, i don't mean that," she answered, slowly, in a dazed kind of manner. "but why did you do it? we were such friends before." "and are we not to be again?" is the reply that would have arisen to most men's lips. but this one knew when to let well alone. "forget it, may," he said. "believe me, i never wanted to offend you. and don't think hard things of me when i am away, will you? good-bye." "no, no. but you had better go now. good-bye." her tone was flurried, with an admixture of distress. it was just the time not to answer. he went out, and as he walked away from the house, he felt not ill-satisfied with himself and his doings in spite of his very decided repulse. as touching this last some men might have felt rather small. not so this one. a subtle, unerring instinct told him that he had come out with all the honours of war. "it is only the first step," he said to himself. "you were frightened at first, my darling, but the time will come, and that sooner than you think, when you shall kiss me back again, and that with all the sweet ardour and passion wherewith i shall kiss you." then a very blank thought took hold upon his mind. what if all the sympathy he had created in her was reflex--if whatever feeling she had for him or would come to have was due solely to his complete likeness to that other? why the mere sight of colvin, a chance glimpse in some public place such as when they two had first met, might shatter his own carefully calculated chances. it was a horrid thought--that at any moment that unpalatable relative of his might appear and spoil everything. not everything, at any rate. the greater scheme, apart from the incidental one of love, would always remain untouched. colvin, he had already discovered, was in pretoria. so far he was within the toils, or at any rate within appreciable distance of so being. "it will make the working out of it so much the easier," he said to himself. "great god alive! why should colvin have all the good things of earth? and the ungrateful dog isn't capable of appreciating them either. well, well, thanks to this benevolent war, his luck is now on the turn, while mine--oh, damn!" the last aloud. a big powerful native, armed with a heavy stick, swinging along the sidewalk at a run, utterly regardless of the bye-law which rendered him liable to the gaoler's lash for being on the sidewalk at all, had cannoned right against him. quick as thought, and yielding to the natural ire of the moment, kenneth shot out his right fist, landing the native well on the ear with a force that sent him staggering. recovering his balance, however, the fellow turned and attacked him savagely. at the same time, two others who seemed to spring out of nowhere--also armed with sticks--came at him from the other side, uttering a ferocious hiss through the closed teeth. save for a walking-stick kenneth was unarmed. in the existing state of affairs the road was utterly lonely, and the odds against him were three to one, three wiry desperate savages, armed with clubs, which they well understood how to use. instinctively once more he let out, and landed another, this time between wind and water, doubling him up in the road, a squirming kicking shape. the remaining pair sprang back a step or two with knobsticks raised, ready to rush him both at once, when--suddenly both took to their heels. the cause of this welcome diversion took the form of a horseman. he was armed with rifle and revolver, and had a full bandolier of cartridges over his shoulder. as he stepped out to meet him, kenneth could see he was young, and well-looking. his first words showed that he was a dutchman. "_wie's jij_?" he asked, sharply, as his horse started, and backed from the approaching figure. then peering down, and catching sight of the face, he cried, in would-be jovial tones: "_maagtig_, colvin. you, is it? ah, ah, i know where you have just come from. ah, ah! you are _slim_!" chapter five. something of a plot. kenneth kershaw narrowly scanned the face of this very opportune new arrival, and decided that he didn't know him from adam. the other looked at him no less fixedly, and it was clear that he did not know him from colvin. colvin, again? what the deuce was the game now? but he decided to play up to the _role_. he might get at something. "so you know where i have just come from, eh, _ou' maat_?" he said. "now where is that?" "ah! ah! miss wenlock is a pretty girl, isn't she?" rejoined the other meaningly. "_ja_, colvin, you are a _slim kerel_. prettier girl than aletta, isn't she?" aletta? that must be the boer girl colvin was supposed to be entangled with, decided kenneth quickly. but what was her other name, and who the devil was this good-looking young dutchman who talked english so well? aletta's brother possibly. he just replied "h'm," which might have meant anything, and waited for the other to continue. "what will aletta say when she knows?" went on the boer, and his bantering tone, through which the smouldering glow of malice underlying it could not entirely be kept from showing, gave kenneth his cue. "say? oh, but she need not know," he answered with just a touch of well-simulated alarm. "ha! ha! ha!" laughed the other. "need not know? i think, friend colvin, i have got you on toast, as you english say, for i shall take very good care she does know. the fact is i have been watching you for some time--from the time you met miss wenlock at park station right up till now, and i fancy aletta won't have very much more to say to you when she hears about it all." "oh, but look here," went on kenneth, still affecting alarm. "you're not going to give the show away, old sportsman. dash it all, it isn't cricket!" "not, eh? you just wait and see," jeered the other. "aha, you seem a bit scared out of your high and mighty english `side' now. you chose to come between me and aletta. we grew up together, and i always looked upon her as mine! she would have been but for you. curse you! i could shoot you now as you stand there," growled the dutchman, fingering the breech of his rifle. "but i won't, because i want to see aletta turn away from you in scorn, as she will, directly. that will be a far greater punishment for you--a far better revenge for me." "by jove!" said kenneth to himself. "there's sultry weather sticking out for colvin, anyhow." this young boer was evidently a discomfited rival--his own words let that be understood. then, with lightning swiftness, two aspects of the situation flashed through his scheming brain. he could let the delusion which the other was under as to his identity continue, in which case colvin would probably appeal to may herself to disprove his alleged visits. but then the two would be brought together again, and that was just what he did not want. or he could frankly offer his aid to this dutchman, who would certainly jump at any method, however unscrupulous, by which to discomfit his rival. colvin would assuredly try reprisals, and in that case the probabilities were he would be shot by the boers, which was just what he did want. it would end matters comfortably for all concerned. so he decided upon the latter plan. "see here, my friend," he said, coolly. "all this time you have been holding on hard to the wrong end of the stick. my name is not colvin." "not--not colvin kershaw?" ejaculated the boer, open-mouthed. "no. devil a bit is it!" "now you are lying. there is only one colvin kershaw. there cannot be two!" "quite right. but i am not that one. there may be other kershaws, though. eh! try again." "are you his brother?" said the boer, suspiciously. "well, i am--er--a relative of his. nor are you the only person who has taken me for him. the fact is, we are as like as two peas. i don't wonder you have been obligingly giving me all your plans. no, don't be afraid. i have no wish to upset them. on the contrary, i am going to offer you my help towards carrying them out." it was time to make some such declaration. the boer's hand had been stealing towards his revolver holster, and his face was fell with a deadly meaning. it was almost dark, and the road lonely and deserted. dead men tell no tales, and a dead englishman found there in the morning would cause no concern whatever to the authorities. "what help can you give me, and why should you wish to?" he said dubiously, his ingrained suspicion forbidding him to trust the other overmuch. "it can bring about the very thing that would have happened had i been the real colvin. for my motive--well, that is my business. i may or may not tell it you later, but somehow i think not." "do you hate him, then?" said the dutchman, still suspiciously. "not in the least. i am perfectly indifferent to him. but he stands in my way, and must get out of it. that is all." "he must get out of my way, too," said the other, with a dark scowl. "quite so. and if i help you to get him out of your way, you will help me to get him out of mine?" "can i trust you?" "well, you've got to," answered kenneth cheerfully, for he saw that the other was nibbling around the bait. "don't be afraid, though. you won't regret it; and now, excuse me, but i'll be hanged if i know exactly who you are." "my name is adrian de la rey," replied the other. "and yours?" "kenneth kershaw. and now we know each other, there's no need to stand talking out here where we may be overheard, so come along to my diggings, and we'll find something to drink, and have the show to ourselves for weaving a plan of campaign. say though, it was a fortunate thing you happened up when you did. those niggers were one too many for me." kenneth's quarters were not very much further on, and were situated in the abode of a polish jew who had retired to the back premises. at sound of the voices and horse hoofs, this worthy put out his head, then at sight of the armed and mounted burgher, scurried back like a frightened rabbit into its burrow. "it's all right, svinsky," called out kenneth. "roll up, man. nobody's going to eat you or commandeer you." thus reassured, the child of israel came forth, bowing and cringing. "goot evening, sairs. let dot i shall take de police chentleman's 'orse. i haf a shtable und still some forage." "right," said kenneth. "after that, svinsky, we want the house to ourselves. see that we are not interrupted." "_ja_, mishter kershaw. dot shall be done." having thus disposed of his hebraic landlord, kenneth led the way inside and lit up. then he got out the materials for a rough-and-ready cold supper, and some excellent "square-face," with the apology that it was only "war-fare," the point of which joke was lost on the dutchman. the latter, however, after a couple of glasses began to grow more genial and less suspicious. "_maagtig_!" he burst forth, eyeing his host. "i never thought one world could contain two people so exactly alike. here in the light, the likeness is even more wonderful." "take a good look at me, de la rey, and make sure. now, is there nothing, no mark or anything, that distinguishes me from my--er-- relative?" "_ja_, now i do see something. you have a scar, a very slight one-- still i see it--just in front of the parting of your hair. colvin has not got that. but the colouring, the voice--everything. _maagtig_! it is wonderful." over the meal they began to arrange their plans. then they lit their pipes and talked on, far into the night, arranging details. "you know the young lady, adrian, and i don't," said kenneth at last. "if she believes your statement, we needn't go any further. if she doesn't, or doesn't want to, we must give her the most convincing evidence of all--ocular evidence. there will be no going behind that, i fancy." "_ja_, that is a fine idea of yours, kenneth"--under the influence of `square-face' and a mutual plot these two had become quite fraternal. "a really fine idea. aletta will never doubt the evidence of her own eye sight." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ just then, however, aletta had something to think about on her own account, and a few days after the concocting of this delectable plot saw her seated in the back garden of piet plessis' house, engaged in a serious discussion with her _fiance_. for the latter had made up his mind to proceed to the seat of war, and had just been announcing the fact. those long weeks spent at pretoria had been very happy, very sweet. but the sheer restfulness of them had become a trifle enervating. news had kept coming in: news of the stirring events along the border. the flame had spread, and was still spreading. kimberley was invested, so too was mafeking, and vryburg had fallen. ladysmith was cut off from the outside world, and the burghers of the republics had successfully carried their arms well into the cape colony. he could not sit still, through it all. he must, at any rate, see something of what was going on, and to that end had obtained special permission to join cronje's force as a non-combatant spectator. not easily had this been obtained though. it had taken all piet plessis' influence, backed up by that of andries botma, with whom colvin had renewed acquaintance during his stay in the transvaal. further, he had to give the most solemn undertaking not to use his position in any way whatever for the benefit of his own countrymen. "don't you remember that first evening we met, aletta?" he was saying. "you promised yourself to make a convert of me? well, now i am interested in your side, i want to see how it fights." "no, no, dearest i can't spare you," she replied, stroking the brown hand which lay in one of her long white ones, with the other. "oh, and--what if i were to lose you?" "leave me alone to take care of that. life is too well worth having just now," he rejoined. "and, as a non-combatant, the risk will be infinitesimal." they were alone together. piet and his wife were both out, and even if anybody called, here in this bosky garden retreat they would remain undisturbed. would they, though? even then both started, and looked up, as the tread of heavy footsteps coming down the garden path arrested their attention. "oh, there you are, aletta," said a man's voice. "the boy said he thought you were out here. how are you, colvin?" "why, it is adrian!" she cried, colouring somewhat as she remembered under what circumstances he had last seen her alone. she was surprised and delighted, too, to notice that he spoke with all his old cordiality of tone, and was shaking hands with colvin quite as he used to do at ratels hoek. he had got over it, then? that was sensible and manly of him, and, the interruption notwithstanding, she showed herself quite pleased at his visit. he sat down and chatted away freely enough, telling them about himself and his moves, also the latest news from the wildschutsberg and ratels hoek; how all the boers in that neighbourhood had risen, and under the leadership of swaart jan grobbelaar had marched into schalkburg and having made a prisoner of mr jelf had seized the court-house over which now waved the free state flag, and had set up a free state man as landdrost. oom stephanus? well no, he had not joined openly, but his sympathies were all with them. he preferred to sit quietly at home attending to his farm. her "patriotism" notwithstanding, aletta could not but secretly rejoice at this intelligence: if things should go wrong for their side, her father at any rate would be safe. then adrian remarked carelessly: "by the way, colvin, is miss wenlock staying at johannesburg long?" "didn't even know she was there at all, adrian." "didn't even know! why, man, you were having quite a long talk with her at park station the other day. take care you don't make aletta jealous," he added, with a genial laugh. "that's very odd, considering i haven't set eyes on her since i left the wildschutsberg," answered colvin. "i must have a double somewhere, for another johnnie declared he saw me in johannesburg too. you remember, aletta? that man da costa? but is may wenlock staying in johannesburg?" "well, rather"--with a whimsical expression of countenance. "now, look here, colvin. i suppose you were not walking down commissioner street with her one day last week? she saw me, and bowed, but you didn't see me. well, you were better employed. but don't make aletta jealous." the tone was so good-humouredly chaffing that it was impossible to take offence. yet colvin did not like it. as a matter of fact, he had been over at johannesburg at the time just named. but he only replied: "i've never been in commissioner street, or in any other street in johannesburg with may wenlock in my life, adrian, nor did i know she was even there. you must have seen double, man." "oh yes, i suppose i must," answered adrian in the same bantering tone, which, however, he contrived to make convey that he supposed nothing of the sort. and then they talked of other matters. the thing was perfectly clear. colvin had simply scouted the other's statement as impossible. yet why should aletta somehow feel a vague misgiving, as though the air had turned chill and the sun were not shining quite so brightly? dr da costa's remark, too, came back to her. perish the thought! it was unworthy of her, and an affront to colvin. yet somehow the tiny verjuice drop had been instilled. and as adrian talked on, apparently in high good-humour, she thought that after all his visit had not been quite a success. did adrian himself think so? we wonder. chapter six. in the roar of the battle. it was beginning to get rather exciting. the big gun, just below, had roared forth its message, and the spectators on the kopje had their field-glasses glued to their eyes, as they watched the progress of the great projectile. splash! there it was. a cloud of dust flew up from the red-brown veldt, away in the distance, but harmlessly. then, hard by where it had fallen, a british gun barked, and, immediately, a huge mass of the earth's surface, bitten into, leaped in mid-air on the further side of the river, falling back in great chunks--clods and stones--and gyrations of dust. further along the line, another gun spoke, then another and another, as though passing the word along the vast length, until the farthest voices, miles away, sounded quite faintly. then ever and again would arise the crackling roll of rifle-fire. the sun was now well up over the eastern horizon, sweeping his joyous morning rays in golden warmth over this warring drama of blood and of wounds and of death. cleaving the great expanse of red-brown veldt the river bed, bush-fringed, with high muddy banks, yawned; and away further down, the clustering buildings of the little township, and the straight thread of the railway line tailing away on either side. beyond the said banks, lines of trenches, where lay the boer riflemen, grim and earnest, awaiting their turn, which would soon come. again the big gun below loosed off, with a tremendous reverberation. those on the kopje, watching the missile, descried a certain amount of confusion where it struck, a scurrying or scattering behind its redoubt. heads went up eagerly from behind the boer earthworks to watch the result, but little or no remark escaped the lips of the stolid burghers. then the english battery barked in return, and the vast thud of the lyddite shell striking one end of the earthwork, blowing up the same great cloud of dust and fragments, reached the spectators with something like the tremor of an earthquake. at the same time the latter could see that, where it had fallen, several forms were lying, while others bending over them were trying to draw them out of the dust and _debris_. colvin kershaw's hand shook slightly as he lowered his glasses, and his face wore the look of one who has gazed upon a peculiarly horrifying sight. and well might it, for the projectile had done its work with fell and awful completeness, and the powerful lens afforded him a view of every detail, of writhings and agony and terrible mutilation. "guess you're not used to it, kershaw," said a voice at his side. "made me look sick, too, first time i saw it. you ever see a fight before?" the speaker was an american war-correspondent "doing" the battle from within the boer lines. "yes, i served in matabeleland," answered colvin. "but with niggers it's different. then, you see, we hated the brutes so because they'd butchered a lot of women and children at the outbreak of the rebellion. even with them, though, you didn't see such a wholesale bust-up as that. faugh!" "well, there's worse to come yet. here, you take a draw at this"-- tendering him a large field flask. colvin accepted, and the nip of excellent boer brandy just steadied his nerves, which had been momentarily shaken. "you try a little, commandant," went on the owner of the flask. but commandant andries botma declined. he seldom touched stimulants, he said, and now, if he did so at the beginning of a fight, would it not be said that he required a dose of what the english call "dutch courage"-- with a whimsical look at colvin, at whom he was poking sly fun? the quondam emissary to the colonial boers, among whom we first made his acquaintance, was no mere frothy stump orator. the name by which he was deferentially known among these--"the patriot"--he had subsequently done everything to justify. he was not the man to preach others into peril he dare not face himself, and when his crusade had culminated in an appeal to arms, he had always been among the foremost where hard knocks were given or received. now he was in command of an important wing of general cronje's force. a mighty engine of destruction or defence this--its lines extending for miles and miles--waiting there grim, dogged, resolute, to give battle to the richest, most resourceful, and determined power in the world. a terrible force to reckon with; its impelling factor, a calm fanaticism born of an unswerving conviction of the justice of the cause and the sure and certain alliance of heaven. in the simplicity of his veldt attire, with little or nothing to mark him out from those whom he commanded, andries botma looked even more a born leader of men than when last we saw him, swaying his countrymen with all the force of his fiery oratory. his strong rugged face, eager, yet impassive, was bent upon the scene of battle, as though not to lose a detail, not to miss a chance. he was surrounded by a little knot of middle-aged and elderly boers, most of them holding subordinate commands under himself. "whirr!" the screech of a shrapnel sailing over the foremost lines. it falls into the river, throwing up the mud with a tremendous splash. another and another. this last, better aimed, strikes among the rear lines--result as before: agony, wounds, death. at the same time another hits the kopje not many yards below, exploding in all directions with appalling effect. the splinters fly from an ironstone boulder not two yards distant, but andries botma does not move a muscle. one boer in the group utters a mild ejaculation, and then is seen to be winding a bit of oiled rag, kept for gun-sponging purposes, around his middle finger. through this rude bandage the blood slowly oozes, but nobody seems to think the circumstance worthy of remark. colvin is conscious of a creeping sensation in the region of the spine, as the jagged iron explodes around him with vicious metallic hiss. and the voices of the long-range duel undergo no diminution, the deep-mouthed boom of the heavy guns, and the sharp, snapping bark of the smaller ones. things, however, are not destined to continue that way. as the hours wear on the advance of the attacking force is made out. from this part of the field the latter can be seen in skirmishing order, drawing nearer and nearer; those khaki-clad dots on the great brown expanse affording but an insignificant mark. and then there begins the sound of rifle-shooting, literally as "the crackling of thorns under a pot." down and along the lines it sweeps, in waves of sharp staccato sounds, and the spludges of dust, before and behind those khaki lines of advancing skirmishers, but mostly before, are like the dropping of water on red-hot iron. now, too, it is near enough to mark the effect of those deadly volleys. that inexorable advance continues, but as it does it leaves behind lines of dead and dying and grievously wounded. not all on one side, though, is the red slaughter. here among the patriot trenches men are falling, and falling fast. shell after shell, too, drops into the little township, and the crash of shattered brickwork, and the shrill clangour of battered-in corrugated iron, mingles with the gradating roar of projectiles, as they leave each grim nozzle sentinelling miles and miles of that sullen river front. those on the kopje are now well within the line of fire. more than frequently a shrill vicious "whigge" as the lee-metford bullets clip the air, or shatter to a flattened lead mushroom against a stone, causes an involuntary duck. the american is taking plentiful notes in shorthand. colvin, who is without this resource, also devoid of the natural excitement of the combatant of firing at the enemy as well as being fired at by him, takes longer to get used to the hum of bullets and the bursting of shrapnel than would otherwise have been the case, for he is totally unarmed, a precaution taken against the eventuality of capture by his own countrymen. and the effect of this precaution is strange. he feels out of it. needless to say he has no desire to draw trigger on his said countrymen, yet the consciousness that he is being shot at--no matter whom by--without the power of replying, is strange and novel. but his nerves at last become attuned to the hum of missiles, and he watches the whole arena of the battle with a vivid and increasing interest. higher and higher mounts the sun, more blistering and scorching his rays, giving forth from the ironstone of the kopje as though reflected from an oven. a strange mirage, watery, crystallised, hangs over the brown expanse of veldt, going off into limpid blue on the far horizon, where the distant flat-topped hills seem to be suspended in mid-air. whether it is that this lake-like liquid tranquillity emphasises the torrid heat or not, those on the kopje feel what the burning of thirst means. they have water-bottles from which they refresh, but sparingly. those in the trenches feel it too, but their attention is on the dire, stern business of the day. no time have they to dwell upon mere corporeal cravings. whigge! crash! shell after shell is breaking within their lines. men writhe, shattered, screaming, where the hideous dismemberment of the human frame is beyond all human endurance, however willing the spirit, the dogged, stern, manly, patriotic spirit--proof against mere ordinary pain--agony even. one of the group round andries botma sinks to the earth as a nordenfelt missile, crashing and splintering among the stones which form his cover, buries a great fragment of jagged iron deep in his thigh. all run to him, foremost among them the commandant, reckless of the perfect hailstorm of bullets which already, although at long-range, is beginning to spray the kopje, while some signal wildly to the ambulance waggons away and below in the rear. but field-cornet theunis van wyk has got his death-blow, and his wife and children--he has three sons fighting below in the trenches--and grandchildren will see him at home smoking the pipe of peace no more. the flow of blood is already rendering him faint, and with a hasty jerked-out message delivered to his old friend and commandant to carry to them, and a quavering attempt at singing a dutch hymn upon his lips, he passes out like a brave man, without complaint or rancour, as many and many a one has done and will do before this day of striving and of carnage is over. and as the advancing host draws nearer, now in quick intrepid rushes over open ground where the leaden hail sweeps in its remorseless shower, now prone and in skirmishing formation, the roar of battle waxes louder and louder. on both sides the crackling din of volleys is well-nigh incessant--as the rifles speak from trench or temporary cover, with dire effect. but there is very little smoke, although the plain on either side is simply spurting puffs of dust where each bullet finds its mark-- save where such mark is not mother earth. in the background the ambulances hover, their heroic attendants darting in now and again, and rescuing the maimed victims under the leaden shower itself. and above the ceaseless crackle of small arms, the heavier boom of artillery rolls out more continuous, more unbroken than ever. colvin has got over his first shrinking of nerves. he hears the humming of missiles overhead and around with something of equanimity, he sees the splash of lead against rock--or the dust-cloud leaping out of the ground as the bursting iron of shell tears up the surface. two more of those upon the kopje fall, one stone dead, the other dying. it may be his turn next. and then, as even the excitement of the day-long battle begins to wane and go flat, his thoughts refer to that last parting with aletta. what a parting that had been--as though he had been going to his death, to his execution! he realises the burden of it now, as he looks on the sad havoc of human life below and around him--the swift sudden fate leaping out of nowhere--the mangled, the mutilated, moaning for the boon of death--of being put out of their sufferings; the lifeless--a moment ago rejoicing in their youth and strength with all their years before them. ah yes--and this is war--glorious war!--and at this very moment there are tens of thousands in the vigour of their youth and strength now panting and longing for the opportunity to become such as these. "oh, kershaw. guess the british'll bust our centre right now. they're coming right through the river." it was the voice of the american. chewing a cigar in the corner of his mouth, he was calmly and unconcernedly taking his notes, while keenly watching each new development of the day. colvin, following his glance, could make out a crowd of forms in the river bed some distance down. then the rattle of rifle-fire became one long deafening roll, as all the energies of the republican forces, anywhere within reasonable range, became concentrated on this new attempt. but the result he could not determine. the whole thing had more than begun to bewilder him. his ears were deafened by the unintermittent roll and crackle, his eyes dim and dizzy with watching, or trying to watch, the movements of both lines of striving combatants. he heard andries botma give orders, and then saw a great mass of mounted boers, stealthily keeping cover as far as possible, dash forth and pour volley after volley into the waggons and trek-animals of the opposing force; hanging on the outskirts of the latter, with the result of throwing it for the while into hideous confusion. he saw frightful sights of dying men, mangled and shell-ripped; but by then his susceptibilities were blunted, the whole world seemed changed into a hell. the voice of his american friend again aroused him. "mind me, kershaw. next time you come to view this sample of scrimmage, you get something to do. you got nothing to report for, and of course you can't shoot at other english, so it's bound to get on your nerves." "there's something in what you say, acton," replied colvin. "there's a sort of passive helpless feeling about it all to me. i seem to realise what the ambulance people's work is like; but even they have work. now i have nothing but to sit and look on." "pity," said the other. "but we haven't got the best ground. too much near the end of the line. well, it's no great matter. i'll make it all read beautiful," glancing with pride down his columns of notes. "you have a cigar?" "thanks," lighting up the weed. "but--what's on now?" they were, as the american had said, near the end of the line. now they could see, confusedly, and in the distance, that the british were in and through the river, forcing the centre of the opposing line. and the wild cheers of the soldiers reached them through the incessant din and roar of fire. at the same time those in the trenches on the further side of the river had abandoned their position and retired across. the sun was sinking now. it was hard to realise that a whole day had been passed in the turmoil of this unending rattle and noise. yet to colvin the effect was almost as though he had spent his whole life in it. his mind represented but a confused notion of what he had witnessed, of what he had been through; and when at nightfall the word was silently passed to retire, to evacuate the position, and take up another, some miles in the rear, where everything was more favourable to meet and again withstand a sorely tried but valorous and persistent foe, he seemed to regard it as no more of an out-of-the-way circumstance than the order to inspan a waggon or two. yet he had spent that day witnessing one of the fiercest and most stubbornly contested battles in which his country's arms had been engaged within the current century. chapter seven. ocular evidence. not until colvin had gone did aletta actually realise all that that parting meant. why had she let him go? she asked herself, a score of times a day. she could have restrained him had she put forth all her influence. why were men so restless? why could not this one have sat still and made the most of the happiness that was his--that was theirs? ah, and now those happy times--and they had been happy times--were in the past. never to come again, perhaps--her heart added with a sinking chill. if the english would but make peace; and then she remembered, with sad amusement, her patriotic enthusiasms in the old days at ratels hoek, and how condescendingly she had been willing that her countrymen should allow a few english to remain, during her discussions with adrian--yes, and even with colvin himself. what now was the patriotic cause to her? she was only conscious of an empty, aching, and utterly desolate heart. "aletta is fretting, piet," said the latter's consort one day--the subject of the remark not being present. "she is fretting terribly. i can see it, although she is very brave, and tries not to show it. i did not think she had it in her to allow herself to be so entirely wrapped up in one man, and that an englishman. what can we do to cheer her up?" "get the `one man' back, i suppose," rejoined the practical official. "_maagtig_, anna--if ever any man had reason to sit still and be thankful, that man was colvin. but, no. off he must go, not because he's wanted for fighting purposes, but just to see the fun--as he calls it. well, he'll see a great deal that he won't find fun at all. but these english are all alike, fussy, restless--must have a finger in everything that goes on--in a fight most of all." yes, aletta was fretting, if a pale and careworn look upon her face was any index to the mind within. now, with a rush, all came back--all that this man was to her. she recalled the hours they had spent together-- every tone and every look--all that he had ever said, and how time had fled like a streak of sunbeam when she was in his presence--how, too, her first thought on awaking to another day, again and again, had been one of half-incredulous, blissful gratitude that in this way she was to go through life. and now he was gone, and at any moment, for all she knew, he might be lying dead and still for ever upon the veldt. oh, it would not bear thinking on! she had not known what love was before, she told herself. she knew now, and when he returned to her he should know too. this separation had taught her. surely, too, it had taught him. among those who frequently visited at piet plessis' to try to cheer her up was, somewhat to her surprise, her cousin adrian; remembering how badly he had taken her refusal in the first instance, and the dire threats he had used towards whosoever should usurp what he chose to imagine was his place. then she reflected that, after all, he had justified the good opinion she had always held of him, in that he had accepted the inevitable in a sensible and manly way. true, once or twice it occurred to her uneasily that he might be taking the opportunity of ingratiating himself once more in view of possible accidents; but she put the thought from her another source of surprise was the way in which she found herself talking to adrian about the absent one. at first she had shrunk from so doing, deeming the topic an unpalatable one to him. but he had not seemed to regard it as such, and she soon lost her constraint on that head. then adrian's visits became of daily occurrence, and piet and his wife, seeing they seemed to brighten aletta up, encouraged them. one day she asked him how it was he still remained in pretoria. now that the war was an accomplished fact, his place, she should have thought, would be at the front. news kept coming in--together with more prisoners--news of brilliant engagements, and successful stands made against the foes of the republic--yet adrian, who had always been so energetic in his advocacy of an appeal to arms, dallied here, instead of marching with those who were fighting for the patriot cause. to this he had replied that there was time enough before him. the struggle was young yet; long before it reached its culminating point, he would be in the midst of it--yes, and would have made his mark too. thus he told her. the while, however, he was playing his own game, and that necessitated more than one trip over to johannesburg, more than one conference with that other kershaw. the plot concocted by these worthies was nearly mature. the time had now come for playing a new card. when aletta waxed eloquent over her absent lover, adrian, hitherto kindly and considerately responsive, now preserved silence; indeed he lapsed into silence with just sufficient markedness as to move her to notice it. this he did some few times, until one day she asked him the reason, point-blank. "oh, it's nothing, aletta," he answered. and then he abruptly took his leave. but at the very next of his visits she returned to the subject, as he knew she would, and intended she should. why had he become so markedly constrained? she asked, a sudden deadly fear blanching her face. had he heard anything--any bad news? "from the front, you mean? no, no; nothing of that sort," quailing involuntarily before the set, stony look of anguish, and half wavering in his plan. then, recovering himself, "well then, aletta, it's of no use keeping it to oneself any longer; besides, you ought to know. are you sure there is anyone at the front in whom you have any interest at all?" "why, of course! why, what do you mean, adrian? is not colvin at the front?" she said, bringing out her words with a kind of gasp. "at the front? well, i don't think he is, considering i saw him only this morning at johannesburg." "oh, then, he is on his way back," cried aletta, her face lighting up with such a radiancy of joy as confirmed the other more than ever in his purpose. "i think not," he said; "for to-day is not the only time i have seen him there. i saw him the day before yesterday, and one day last week." "adrian, think what you are saying. it is impossible." but as she stood looking him in the face as though her gaze would pierce and lay bare every secret of his brain, a cold and terrible misgiving smote her. she remembered the positive assertion made by adrian before on this head, and in colvin's own presence. dr da costa's remark, too, she remembered; likewise her own misgiving, which act of distrust she had since lamented to herself with bitter and remorseful tears. what if this thing should be too true? "but i have letters from him," she went on. "i have heard from him twice--from bloemfontein before he joined commandant botma. you must have seen that extraordinary `double' of his, adrian." but adrian was armed at this point too. "see you now, aletta?" he said. "it is very easy to get anything posted in bloemfontein. plenty of people travel down there from johannesburg. as for that `double' idea, i thought at the time that the story was too weak altogether. but now, i ask, does his `double' also know miss wenlock? anyhow, she seemed to be bidding him a very lingering farewell on the _stoep_ of a house." this seemed improbable. still, grasping at the chance, aletta flatly refused to believe the statement. and then she rounded upon her cousin, and for a space that estimable youth had a very bad time indeed. he had invented this scandalous falsehood, she declared, had invented it out of malice. she remembered his threats that day at ratels hoek; but such, at any rate, had pointed to a more manly course than this traducing of the absent. no, she did not and would not believe one word of the story. adrian could get away out of her sight and never look upon her face again. but she did believe it partly, and adrian knew she did. he felt quite secure now. "very well, aletta," he answered, with a quiet dignity, "i will do as you wish, and you need not be troubled with me any more. that is the treatment i might have expected for opening your eyes to the--well, trick that has been played upon you. yet i don't see why you should think me a liar; so it is only fair to give me the chance of proving my words." "but how are you going to prove them?" she asked, speaking quickly. "in the best possible way. will the evidence of your own eyes satisfy you, aletta?" "i cannot refuse to believe my own eyes," she answered slowly. "that is, in broad daylight," she added. "yes, of course. if you will go over to johannesburg with me to-morrow you shall be amply convinced. will you come?" "yes. and mind this, adrian. if you fail to prove this lie--i mean this charge of yours--by the evidence of my own eyes, you shall never receive a word from me again--from any of us, indeed. never." "oh, i am not uneasy about that. and now i must go. so long. to-morrow, mind." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the road in which stood jim dixon's abode was well-nigh as deserted at midday as in the dusk of the evening when adrian had first come into contact with kenneth kershaw. now as he walked slowly along, with aletta beside him, he could hardly answer her save at random. what if the plan failed? a miscalculation of time on the part of one or both confederates and such might easily be the case. his first idea, which indeed would have been a safer one, was to take up a position in, or concealed by, one of the deserted houses opposite, of which there was a whole row, and watch; but even if he could have got aletta to consent to this plan, one very important move in the game--the most checkmating move of all, as we shall see--must of necessity be omitted. the girl was looking pale and worn, for she had had but little sleep. her determination and spirit, the very vitality of the matter at stake, had kept her up. there were times, too, when she said to herself that this thing could not be, that she was about to discover what a mistake adrian had made; and in the gladness of the thought she was going to be forgiving to adrian in that event, not, however, until she had most severely lectured him. he for his part had affected a demeanour that was gravely compassionate. if he seemed now and then ill at ease, why that struck aletta as natural--having regard to the delicate nature of the errand on which they were bound. and he had some reason for his uneasiness, for they would soon be right opposite dixon's house, and he did not desire to be seen by, at any rate, one of its inmates. what was that cursed fool about, he said to himself, not to show? it was past the time, and they could not patrol up and down for ever. "look now, aletta!" he said, suddenly. "look! was i mistaken?" the front door of a house about a hundred yards further down on the other side of the road had opened, and two figures came out on to the _stoep_. aletta recognised them instantly. one was that of may wenlock, but the other-- no. there was no mistaking it. there he stood, and he was looking down into may's eyes as he talked to her, was holding her hand in his for a considerably longer time than was necessary for the purpose of bidding farewell. there he stood, her perfidious lover--he who had left her with such words of sworn affection upon his lips, that would be with her until her dying day--he, the thought of whom, hourly, momentarily, it might be in peril of death on the battle field, had filled her mind waking and sleeping--while all the while here he was in quiet safety, carrying on his intrigue with this girl. there he stood; there could not be two colvin kershaws in the world, that ingenious story of the "double" notwithstanding. this was the "double" then? yet it was wearing exactly the same clothes, exactly the same hat, even, as when taking that last farewell of herself--that farewell whose memory had thrilled her heart ever since. "courage, aletta! courage!" she heard adrian say, but his voice sounded as from another world. "keep up a little longer. now we will make certain. look!" the man had parted from his companion now, and as he came down to the front gate, his head was half turned, as with a last loving look towards may, who was still on the _stoep_. then he came out into the road, and the door of the house closed. he walked slowly along at first, not looking up. then suddenly he did look up, and caught the eyes of the two on the opposite side. the effect was magical. with a bewildered start he half stopped as though irresolute, then, averting his eyes, he trebled his pace and walked rapidly away. but during that swift second his glance had met that of aletta straight and full; and if ever a human countenance showed dismay, consternation, guilt, utter confusion, assuredly all these emotions were stamped upon this man's countenance in that brief moment. "well now, was i mistaken?" said adrian again, his voice sounding even farther away this time. "can you believe your own eyes now, aletta? you have seen?" "oh yes," she gasped. "i must believe my own eyes. yes--yes, i have seen." the girl's face was colourless, her lips livid and shaking. her steps even seemed unsteady. adrian feared that she would faint. but she did not. chapter seven. very like a prisoner. colvin was beginning to have enough of it. he had spent some weeks with cronje's force, and into that short space about half a lifetime of strange and stirring experience seemed to have crowded itself. besides the modder river battle, he had witnessed the british repulse at magersfontein, and had seen several desultory skirmishes. more than one narrow escape had he known, and had been slightly cut about the hand by the splinter of a spent shell. but he had become inured to the rush and whirr of missiles, and now paid no heed whatever to them. he had likewise adopted the american's suggestion, and started in to take notes on his own account. he might make some use of them after the war, he declared, and, at any rate, as acton had said, the taking of them gave him something to do. by this time, too, he had become indurated to the ghastly and horrifying sights which had so got upon his nerves at first. yet he had had quite enough of it, and thought longingly that he would gladly be back at pretoria. and what stimulated this longing was the fact that during all the time he had been away he had received neither line nor word from aletta. at first he had thought but little of this, attributing it to a natural delay consequent on the hurry and bustle of the times. but as days became weeks he began to think it strange and to feel uneasy. several of the burghers had received letters from their people, and plenty of messages and despatches reached the various field commandants from headquarters. surely the influence of piet plessis would suffice to command means of sending through the communication for which he now began so ardently to long. even then no idea approaching suspicion of the real state of affairs crossed his mind. some technical difficulty might be standing in the way--piet might not be able to use his official position for such purposes. no, that did not seem to account for it either. colvin began to feel anxious--he hardly knew why. he had wanted to see the fighting, and he had seen a great deal of it--enough, he thought, to last him for life. the fierce glare of summer midday, with its dust-clouds and chronic and tormenting thirst--the bitter chill of night on the high veldt--lying out under the stars, while every now and then the searchlight in the beleaguered town away in the distance swept round its fan-like ray, now and then drawing the muffled boom of a shot--of all this he had had enough. he made up his mind to obtain commandant botma's permission to return to pretoria. hardly had he done so than a letter was put into his hand. ah, the longed-for communication at last! and the thrill of delight that went through him almost made up for the long, wearing anxiety. but this was nipped in the bud by a second glance at the envelope. it was not directed in aletta's handwriting. he tore it open. a glance at the end of the sheet showed that the handwriting was that of piet plessis' wife. at the same time an enclosure fell out. this at any rate was from aletta. eagerly he picked it up--then, as he mastered the contents, a look of the blankest dismay and bewilderment came over his features. for the contents were very brief, and they ran thus: "i am going home at once. no explanations are needed, are they? for, remember--_i saw_. "good-bye, aletta." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ he stared at the sheet of paper, and his look of bewilderment grew blanker and blanker. what did it mean? what on earth _could_ it mean? no explanations needed? but they very much _were_ needed, he thought. and what on earth mystery lay covered by those words, so significantly underlined--"_i saw_?" what did the writer see? the thing passed comprehension. he turned to the other letter with some wild hope of finding enlightenment there. it did not afford him much. aletta had asked her to enclose this note to him, wrote mrs plessis, and was going back home to ratels hoek at once. "i hope there is nothing wrong," she went on, "but the child has been very strange during the last two or three days. i don't know what to make of it. she will not give me her confidence, and made me promise faithfully not so much as to hint to piet that anything had upset her. she leaves us to-morrow, and travels back home in charge of adrian. but i trust there is nothing really the matter." in charge of adrian! ah, now he began to see light. adrian was behind whatever had happened. why, of course. his every motive made that way. all that cordiality of his had not altogether gone down with colvin. there was a suggestion of malice underlying it, which should have put him more on his guard. adrian had played him some dirty trick in his absence, though what it might be he could as yet form no idea. he glanced at the letter, also at the note. both bore a date some ten days old. why, aletta would have been home now for days. well, his mind was made up. instead of returning to pretoria, he would proceed straight to ratels hoek. no explanation needed! it struck him that that very thing was most urgently needed. he applied to andries botma for facilities, which, being english, he would need to prosecute his journey and to ensure his safe passage through any of the republican forces he might fall in with. these were readily granted, and the commandant bade him a kind and cordial farewell. "i need not remind you, mynheer kershaw," he said, in dutch, for "the patriot" never spoke english, although perfectly able to do so, unless positively obliged--"i need not remind you that you have pledged your solemn word of honour to divulge nothing that you may have seen or heard during the time you have been with us. but it is not entirely the other side i distrust, and therefore i would impress upon you the necessity of using the greatest caution in conversing with those who, by nationality, are our own people. but many of them (with shame i say it) are not really our own people--that is, they are not heart and soul with us. they will not strike a blow for the sacred cause--at least not yet. they are waiting to see which will prove the victorious side--as if there could be any doubt. these are the people i would warn you against, when you are back once more across the river. but you are one of us now, for i hear you are to marry stephanus de la rey's daughter. in that receive my most cordial wishes--and carry my compliments to stephanus and all our good friends in the wildschutsberg. and if hereafter i can be of service to you at any time--why, it will be to me an agreeable duty. farewell." colvin shook hands warmly with the kindly dutch commandant, and, armed with his credentials, went forth. at the moment he little thought of the weight of that last promise, still less what it might or might not be destined to mean for him in the not distant future. he thought more on the subject of the other's congratulations, for they stirred up a very real and desolating misgiving. what if events should already have rendered them devoid of meaning? his journey to the border seemed to him intolerably long and depressing, but its monotony was varied more than once by meeting with a party of burghers patrolling the country or on their way to join cronje's force. these would scan his credentials narrowly and suspiciously, but the name of andries botma was as a very talisman, and they allowed him to proceed. at the passage of the orange river, some delay occurred. this, however, was at last surmounted, but it was towards the close of the third day that he found himself--riding a very tired horse--entering the wildschutsberg range, just beyond which lay his own home, and, yet nearer, ratels hoek. straight to the latter he intended to proceed, and now, as he drew so near, for the hundredth time he was cudgelling his brains over the mystery of aletta's strange behaviour, and for the hundredth time was forced to own himself no nearer finding a clue to it than before--except that he still connected it in some way with the evil influence or trickery of adrian. well, two or three hours more would clear it up, for he and aletta would talk face to face, and in her own home. ah, but would they? with a dire chill the thought struck him--what if she were no longer there? had left home, perhaps, and gone away to cape town, as she had done before? well, even thither he would follow her, if necessary, and claim an explanation. what was this which had come between them? had their times been too bright, too unclouded, rendering some such trial needful? they certainly had been that day by day, so far from stagnating, from turning into the easy matter-of-fact groove, their love had grown--had intensified--right up to the moment of parting, so ardently mutual had it been. it had seemed that nothing could add to it--that no margin was left for any further extension of it. yet as he rode along now, saddened, heart-desolate, almost bereaved, colvin thought to himself that this ordeal had seemed needed to prove that there was. as he entered the mountains, the roll as of an approaching storm had boomed sombrely away on his left. now, in the opposite direction, beyond the range, came faint and far, other deep thunder voices. this was not thunder though. it was a sound he had become tolerably familiar with of late, the distant roll of guns. a battle was in progress in that direction. well, it did not concern him. he was nearly at home again. he looked up. the shadows of evening were already lowering. in the dusk something white attracted his glance. a white stone--and then, with a rush, the familiarity of the surroundings swept in upon his mind. he had reason to know that white stone, for it was while passing that very object he had been fired at on the night he had first seen aletta. the track he had been following here struck the main road, just where it forked, in the direction of his own home, and in that of ratels hoek. well, he would soon be at the latter place now, and then--and then--ah, how that other evening came back! this stage of his meditations received a shock, being, in fact, disturbed by a loud, harsh voice calling upon him in dutch, and very peremptorily, to halt. it proceeded from in front and above. looking up, colvin became alive to the startling discovery that some twenty rifles were levelled straight at him, at a distance of about that number of yards. there was no disputing such a summons. "dismount!" repeated the voice. again there was no alternative but to comply, and, as he did so, several boers, still keeping him covered, arose from their concealment, and came towards him. some two or three were men from the surrounding district, whom he knew by sight, but most of them were strangers. "who are you?" asked the leader crisply, in dutch. "and where are you from?" colvin told him. the news that he had come straight from cronje's force in the field, and had witnessed several engagements, impressed them somewhat. they began to look at him with considerable interest and increased respect. "_daag_, gideon," he exclaimed, suddenly becoming aware of the presence of gideon roux among the party. the boer came forward and greeted him as though nothing had happened. they chatted a minute or two together as to the local news and so forth. then colvin said: "well now, friends, i must bid you good-night. i am going on to stephanus de la rey's." "you cannot go on to stephanus de la rey's to-night," rejoined the leader promptly. "why not?" "because you have to go with us--to commandant schoeman's camp at krantz kop." this was a terrible facer, but colvin was forced to accept the situation with what grace he could. at first he tried expostulation, urging every reason he could think of for being suffered to pursue his way. in vain. even the magic name of the patriot seemed to fail in its power here. the burghers got their concealed horses from behind the rocks and they started. it was quite dark when they reached the camp, which had been pitched around gideon roux' farmstead. how well colvin remembered the last time he had visited this place--the discovery of the concealed arms, the squalid household and his doubtful reception, hans vermaak's warning and its ample justification. now, as he saw the place again, under circumstances suspiciously like being made a prisoner of, a great despondency came upon him. he had beguiled the journey chatting with his escort, or captors, or whatever they were, and learned that for the past day or two fighting had been going on with the british forces out beyond schalkburg, and that a few prisoners had been taken, most of whom would be forwarded to bloemfontein. there was one, however, who was exceedingly obstreperous. if he was not careful he would very likely be shot. they were challenged by vedettes as they reached the outskirts of the camp, but allowed to pass through. in the darkness colvin could make out a few waggons and several tents pitched without any particular regard to order. in one or two of these some men were singing dutch hymns in a slow, droning tone--but, early as it was, most of the burghers had turned in for the night. once, as he passed the farmhouse, he thought to detect an english voice, proceeding from the stable, cursing and swearing, its owner the while kicking vigorously against the door, and supposed this must be the obstreperous prisoner they had been telling him about. he was shown to a tent, which he found he had to share with three other men, who were already asleep. the commandant? oh, he could not be disturbed that night. he was asleep. so there was nothing for it but to put the best face on things. and yet it was not with pleasant foreshadowings that colvin kershaw at last closed his tired yet sleepless eyes in the burgher camp, realising that he was something very like a prisoner. chapter nine. commandant schoeman's camp. "who on earth is making all that row?" was colvin's first remark on awakening from sleep the following morning to the well-worn strains of "ta-ra-boomdeay" bellowed in stentorian tones, yet somewhat muffled as though by distance and obstruction. "it must be the englishman--one of the prisoners," yawned another occupant of the tent, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "he is very violent and noisy, so they have shut him up in gideon roux' stable away from the others." "is he mad?" "no. only violent. wants to fight everybody with his fists." "_nouwja_. i would cure that `madness' with a _sjambok_ if i were the commandant," growled another, sitting up and listening. "he gives all the trouble he can." the hour was that of sunrise, and although midsummer, the air at that altitude was raw and chilly when colvin turned out, shivering, to look after his horse, which had been picketed among the steeds of the burghers. as he did so the sun, mounting above the surrounding heights into the fresh clear air, seemed to shed around a new hope, to light up a new exhilaration in his mind. his own atmosphere would clear, even as the dewy mists of night had done before the great flaming luminary. he would now seek out the commandant, explain matters, and resume his way. and having so decided, he was straightway confronted by a couple of burghers summoning him to the presence of that official without delay. commandant schoeman was an elderly man with a hard, wooden-faced expression. he wore a straight lank beard, a chimney-pot hat, once white, and weather-beaten moleskin clothes, which looked as if they had not been off him for a month, which indeed was very near the truth. he was a boer of the most unprogressive type, and as entirely dissimilar to one of the stamp of stephanus de la rey as could possibly be imagined. he was lacking in the good qualities of andries botma, who, however fiery and perfervid as a patriotic orator, was a kindly and courteous gentleman beneath. this man was brusque and uncouth, and cordially hated everything english, both in season and out of season. he was seated in his tent as colvin came up. the flaps were folded back so that those surrounding him who could not find room inside could still assist at what was going on in the way of official business. these consisted almost entirely of boers holding subordinate commands under him. they wore their bandoliers, and their rifles lay on the ground beside them. "_daag_, mynheer commandant," said colvin, mindful of the way in which a greater than this had received a less formal mode of address. "_daag_," replied schoeman curtly, tendering a cold lifeless paw, and just touching the other's outstretched hand. the same ceremony was gone through with the others. two old acquaintances colvin recognised--swaart jan grobbelaar and old sarel van der vyver. these responded to his greeting characteristically--the first showing his tusks with a sort of oily, half-satirical grin, the other infusing a heartiness into his reply, and then drawing back as though half-frightened. there was a third present, however, whom he recognised--recognised, moreover, with some astonishment--morkel, the civil commissioner's clerk. "hallo, morkel!" he exclaimed in english. "i never expected to see you. why, what on earth are _you_ doing here?" "i am acting as secretary for the commandant," answered morkel, making believe to be wondrously busy with some papers on the rough wooden table in front of him. his momentary embarrassment was not lost upon colvin, nor a look he fancied he detected, warning him not to ask questions. "i do not know why we need talk english here," said the commandant curtly. "sit." colvin obeyed, and subsided on to the floor of the tent by swaart jan, who made room for him, at the same time offering his tobacco bag, for they were all smoking. the great man and his "secretary" were the only ones who occupied seats, and these consisted of inverted packing-cases. the rest squatted primitively on mother earth. then turning to colvin, the commandant began to put him through a pretty close cross-examination, causing morkel to take down the answers, partly with a view to impressing the others with his magisterial dignity, partly from a genuine motive, for he was an illiterate man, and had all the suspiciousness which characterises such. he questioned colvin with regard to all as to which he had been an eye-witness when with cronje's force, and with regard to a great deal as to which he had not, the others listening with vivid interest. and here colvin began to feel himself in somewhat of a quandary, remembering the parting injunctions and warnings of andries botma. the latter had especially cautioned him against revealing matters even to the burghers on this side of the orange river, and now the warning rose clear in his mind. who could say that there might not be spies among those here present, or, at any rate, but lukewarm adherents of the republican cause? and the result of such misgiving was that his answers were somewhat constrained, and to the distrustful ears of the boer commandant more than suspicious. "be careful, englishman," said the latter bluntly. "you are telling us the truth, are you? you had better tell the truth--oh, much better." the rudeness of the other's words and manner angered colvin, but he yielded to the expediency of restraining too great a manifestation of resentment. "look, mynheer commandant," he said. "i have been courteously received by his honour the president, i can call andries botma my friend and piet plessis'"--and he named half a dozen other prominent transvaal officers--"but it has remained to me to return here to be called a liar by a man of whom i never heard before." "all englishmen are liars," interpolated a grim old burgher on the opposite side of the tent, spitting on the ground. schoeman, however, received the reply with a wooden-faced silence. but colvin did not miss a look of dismay and warning darted at him by morkel, and at the same time, with anything but satisfaction, he realised that he had probably made a deadly enemy of the commandant. "well then," he continued, "the whole square truth of the matter is that andries botma particularly urged upon me not to talk of what i had seen with cronje's force, not even on this side of the river. does that satisfy all here?" and he looked around the circle. "_ja_, _ja_," assented most of them, swaart jan adding: "it is true, commandant colvin is a true man. i know him. he is a friend of `the patriot'. besides, he is one of us now. he is going to marry stephanus de la rey's daughter." "quite right, oom jan," said colvin, with alacrity. then, judging that this was exactly the moment for preferring his request, he represented to the commandant that it was while on his way to ratels hoek that he had been detained and brought here. might he not now proceed thither? this request was backed up by most of the assembled boers. schoeman, beginning to think it would save trouble, was inclined to yield, when a contretemps occurred, one of those freaks of fate which have an impish and arbitrary way of skipping forward just at the right moment to divert and ruin the course of human affairs when such course is beginning to run smoothly. a considerable hubbub had arisen outside; curses and threats in dutch and english, with the sound of scuffling, and, over and above all, a voice lifted in song, bellowing stentoriously, if somewhat jerkily: "ta-ra-ra-ra boomdeay! oom paul op een vark gerij, af hij val en rier gekrij, toen klim op en weg gerij." the concluding words were hurled, so to say, right into the tent, for a group of burghers had appeared, and in their midst was the singer. the latter was receiving somewhat rough usage--though, truth to tell, he was bringing it upon himself. his arms were tightly pinioned to his sides with a long coil of reim, and he was being hustled forward with varying degrees of roughness. but the more they hustled and cursed him the more defiantly he shouted his idiotic and, under the circumstances, insulting doggerel. colvin, with dismay and consternation, had recognised the stuff and had recognised the singer, and, even before the latter had been dragged into sight, knew that it could be no other than frank wenlock. so this was the obstreperous prisoner? well, frank wenlock could be pretty obstreperous, as he knew by experience. "still, man, still!" growled one of his escort, shaking him violently. here again was an old acquaintance, in the shape of hermanus delport. but the big dutchman's face was considerably damaged, one eye being totally closed. frank had been using his fists to some purpose. now he let off a volley of perfectly unprintable expletives. "you'd dare lay a finger on me but for this _reim_, wouldn't you?" he yelled. "i'd plug up your other eye for two pins, and every man's blanked eyes in this camp." and more to the same effect. "still, man, do you hear?" repeated hermanus, administering another shake. "the commandant is speaking to you. do you hear?" "is he? well, then, i don't care a little damn for mr bally commandant or the whole lot of infernal rebels and traitors in that tent. aha, swaart jan! you may well look sick, you old liar; there's a nice rope waiting for you. old sarel, too? what a hanging of rebels and traitors there'll be by-and-by! and morkel? _ja_, you will dangle, too." then becoming alive to the presence of colvin, he burst into a very roar of derisive hatred. "good-day, mister kershaw--or should i say commandant kershaw?--the biggest blanked traitor of the lot. you'll be blown from a gun, i should think." these ravings, uttered half in english, half in dutch, were not without effect upon most of those within the tent. they had about concluded that the violence and insolence of this prisoner had reached limits. "let him taste the _sjambok_" growled the old burgher who had expressed the opinion antagonistic to british veracity. but commandant schoeman gave no sign of perturbation. save for a stern and ominous look in his cold, snaky eye, he might not have heard. "frank--frank! do be quiet, man," said colvin earnestly. "don't make a silly ass of yourself. you are doing yourself no good." "not, eh? i'd do you some good though if i could get at you; i'd give you the jolliest hammering you ever had. look at mani delport's mug there. that's nothing to what yours would be, you infernal traitor." "it might not be so easy, frank. but do be reasonable. how can you expect decent treatment if you will persist in behaving like a lunatic?" "would you be reasonable if you had seen your home sacked and gutted by a lot of rebels and traitors, and your mother turned out homeless, mister dutchman kruger kershaw?" snarled frank. "no fear though. your place wasn't interfered with. you're one of them, you know." colvin was not disposed to deny this in the faces of those present, intending to use that very argument in favour of being allowed to proceed on his way. but he was deeply concerned on behalf of frank. the fool was simply committing suicide. yet--how prevent him? he had seen frank very uproarious more than once, in his cups, but here that motive power was lacking. the silly chap seemed to have gone half off his head with racial antagonism. but his own endeavours to persuade the boer authorities to that effect drew forth a renewed outburst from the man he was striving to befriend. the dutch commandant lost patience. "be still, englishman," he said, very sharply and sternly. "i am going to speak, and if you open your mouth again until i have finished, you will have that thrust into it which will quiet you. well, then, you were treated no worse than others in your position until you brought rough treatment upon yourself. you have been as violent; as a drunken bastard hottentot, without his excuse. you have assaulted and struck our burghers, and you have only opened your mouth to shout out insults to his honour the president and horrid blasphemies to almighty god. there can be no place for such a man as you among our god-fearing burghers, and we are not going to release you while so many of our brave comrades are rotting on your english prison ships. it may be that you have not many hours left in this world, and i advise you to think over and ask pardon of heaven for all your blasphemous words." then to the guards, "take him back whence he came while we deliberate." "that for your cant, you cursed, whining old snuffle-nose," yelled frank, spitting in the direction of the commandant. "you can shoot me if you like, but you'll all hang--every man jack of you--infernal rebels and traitors. hurrah! god save the queen!" and thus vociferating, he was hustled away. "do not hold him responsible for what he says or does, mynheer commandant," said colvin earnestly. "i think his misfortunes have turned his brain. he was always excitable. we cannot hold a man responsible when he is off his head, can we?" to this plea commandant schoeman made no reply. he turned a cold, fishy eye upon the pleader, then remarked to the others: "_toen, heeren_. we had better discuss, under the guidance of heaven, what our best course will be with regard to this violent and blasphemous prisoner. for yourself, mynheer"--to colvin--"you would doubtless prefer the rest and quiet of your tent--or to see if some of your friends are in our camp." colvin promptly acted upon this more than hint. but with all his anxiety to reach ratels hoek, a kind of instinct on frank wenlock's account reconciled him to a further sojourn in schoeman's camp. he suspected that frank stood in grave peril of his life; and if so he must exert all and whatever influence he himself possessed on behalf of his friend and former comrade. his instinct proved an accurate one, and his worst fears were justified. not until near evening, however, did he learn that frank wenlock had been sentenced to be shot, and would meet his death at daybreak. chapter ten. the net draws in. it was morkel who brought the news. their deliberations on frank's fate had lasted for some hours, being interspersed with a sort of impromptu prayer-meeting or two--and in the result he had been brought before the commandant again, and being asked if he had any thing to say in excuse for having repeatedly insulted the president, blasphemed almighty god, and taken up arms against the republic, part of whose territory this had now been proclaimed by annexation, replied simply by a savage renewal of all the abuse he had already been foolish enough to heap upon those in whose power he was. so he was condemned to be shot at daybreak on the following morning. not all had been in favour of that extreme measure, said morkel. swaart jan grobbelaar for one, and old sarel van der vyver for another, had spoken on the side of mercy; possibly with an uneasy eye to eventualities. but commandant schoeman, who was a free state boer, and whose own position as a mere belligerent was secure in any event, had overruled them, and by that time to-morrow poor frank wenlock would no longer exist. "what can be done, morkel?" said colvin, very much moved. "do you think they really intend to do it?" "dead certain," was the gloomy reply. "you know the poor devil simply brought it upon himself. you saw how he behaved this morning, kershaw. why he was simply committing suicide." "would it be any use if i were to try and talk over schoeman? might persuade him to let the chap off with a bit of a fright. i am in with some of the big bugs up at pretoria, you know." "not an atom of use," said morkel decidedly. "you are in fairly bad odour yourself, you see, kershaw." "it's ghastly. i can't believe they really intend to shoot the poor chap. but, by-the-by, morkel, how is it you are up here among them? i thought you were so rigidly--er--imperialist?" morkel looked embarrassed. "so i am--er--was, i mean," he answered, speaking low. "but it's all jelf's fault. he took on a fad to collect the state of feeling among the farmers, and was always wanting me to go round and find it out. i went once too often; for when olivier and schoeman crossed from the free state, and the whole of the wildschutsberg and the rooi-ruggensberg rose as one man, why they simply commandeered me." "but as a government servant--" "_ja_--a fat lot they cared about the government servant part of it. a man of my name could not be on the english side, they said. so they just gave me my choice--to join them or be shot as a spy. i was a spy, of course, they swore. they knew i had been sent out by the civil commissioner to find out things. so there it was." "but it'll come rather awkward for you when all this is over, morkel?" "i'll have to chance that. it, at any rate, is a chance, but the other was a dead cert. _maagtig_! kershaw, when you see half a dozen fellows with rifles step out, all ready to let daylight through you in ten minutes' time, why you prefer the chances of the remote future to the certainty of the immediate present. if you don't think so--why, you just find yourself in my shoes, and see." this was undeniable--and then the _ci-devant_ civil commissioner's clerk went on to explain that he was by no means certain that things were going to turn out so favourably for the english as had at first seemed probable. the republics might get the better of it practically, in which event he would likely drop in for something worth having--anyway, he couldn't help himself. besides, it would have happened in any case, for the burghers had jumped schalkburg and commandeered every man there who bore a dutch name, as well as all the stores. but with regard to the de la rey household morkel could give no reliable information. he had heard that stephanus and his wife were away in the free state, but even that he did not know for certain, nor whether the girls were at home or not. "but how did frank manage to get captured, morkel? was he fighting?" "no. they went to his place, and started in to commandeer all his stuff. you know what a violent beggar he is when his monkey is up--and he started punching heads by the half-dozen. what could he do against a crowd? the wonder to me is they didn't shoot him then and there. but they broke up everything in the house, and turned the old lady out of doors and locked her own doors on her. good job that pretty sister of his was away from home, for they were the lowest down type of boer--of the mani delport sample." both men puffed gloomily at their pipes for some minutes in silence. then colvin said: "look here, morkel. i am going to have another try at old schoeman. you must persuade him to see me. so cut along, old chap, and do so. by the way, if the worst comes to the worst, he must let me see frank." "i'll try, kershaw," said morkel. "i'll try my darnedest, but i'm not over sanguine." nor was colvin, and his despondency was fully justified when, after nearly an hour, morkel returned. commandant schoeman flatly refused to see him that night, nor would he authorise him to hold an interview with the prisoner, or any communication whatever, on peril of the utmost penalty. "the infernal old brute!" was the only comment colvin could make. "yes, he is," rejoined morkel gloomily. "and now i must clear out--for he has a lot of `secretarial' work for me to-night, he says. well, we have done all we could, and if we can't help the poor chap we can't. it's the fortune of war. good-night." left to himself colvin sat for a while thinking hard, and as he did so his despondency deepened. poor frank! was there no way out of it? his memory went back over the period of their acquaintance--over the old days when they had campaigned together as comrades--over the times they had spent together since, under more peaceful auspices--by what a mere chance it had come about that they were not much more nearly related. with all his weaknesses, frank was far too good a fellow to come to such pitiable grief as this. what could be done? and still the inexorable answer--nothing. rising in the sheer restlessness of desperation, he went outside the tent. it was nearly dark now, and the cooking fires of the camp were ablaze in all directions, and the deep-toned voices of the burghers buzzed forth on all sides. as he stepped outside, a figure looming out of the dusk barred his way. "stand! go no further." "what is the meaning of this? you hardly seem to know me," said colvin. "i know you, mynheer kershaw," was the reply. "but the commandant's orders are that you do not wander about the camp to-night." "the commandant's orders?" "_ja_, the commandant's orders," repeated the boer. "go in again, if you please." there was nothing for it but compliance. as he re-entered the tent, colvin realised that he was indeed a prisoner, and guarded by an armed sentry. what did it mean? why, simply that for any power he might have to help frank wenlock that night--by fair means or foul--he might as well have been in patagonia or pekin. more, a very uneasy feeling had come over him that he might ere long stand sorely in need of aid himself. these precautions seemed to point that way too. here he was as much a prisoner as the man to whom death would come with the morning light. it struck him in a passing way as singular that the men who shared this tent with him were not here to-night, and he was alone. hour after hour wore on, and still he racked his brains. once before he had saved frank wenlock's life in the heat and excitement of warfare. he could not save it now. that wily old fox schoeman had seen to that. colvin was very tired. the strain of the previous day had told upon him--the strain of those long night hours too. he could not have told approximately at what hour his eyes had closed, and a whirling round of confused dreams were chasing each other through his slumbering brain. now he was back again in peace and quietness at piet plessis' with aletta, radiant and happy. now he was at ratels hoek, but aletta was not there. a cold blank void seemed to take her place, and then into it floated the form of may wenlock, her face turned from him in horror and loathing, as though requiring her brother's blood at his hands. then he awoke with a cold start, wondering confusedly whether all that had happened the day before were but a dream--awoke to the light of another day, with the beams of a newly risen sun pouring into the tent--awoke to behold three armed burghers standing over him. even then he noticed that the expression of their faces was grim and ominous, and that they replied to his morning salutation as curtly as possible. "so! you are awake at last," said one. "we were about to awaken you. you must come before the commandant at once." "before the commandant?" echoed colvin, still hardly awake. "by the way--the prisoner? what about the prisoner? the commandant has pardoned him, has he?" the men exchanged a very strange look with each other at the words. "it is about the prisoner that the commandant needs you, mynheer," said the spokesman. and colvin's heart sank. he was wanted to receive the doomed man's last wishes, he supposed, being the latter's fellow-countryman. poor frank--poor frank! "i am ready," he said, springing up. "but--tell me. are they really going to shoot him after all? surely--surely not!" the men looked more strangely than ever. "you ought to know best whether that can now be done or not, mynheer," was the enigmatical reply. "come!" colvin went forth with his guards--one of whom walked on each side of him, and the third behind. this was being under arrest with a vengeance, he thought. as they passed through the camp he noticed that the burghers were gathered in groups, conversing in very subdued tones, which at sight of him would become suddenly hushed. there was something solemn and cold-blooded about these preliminaries to the execution he was about to witness that got upon his nerves. as we have pointed out, he had witnessed many a ghastly and horrifying sight during the last few weeks. but this, he felt, was going to be more trying than any. commandant schoeman was seated in his tent, surrounded by his handful of subordinate officers, exactly the same as on the day before. to-day, however, in addition, a few burghers were grouped outside the tent, the butts of their rifles grounded, as they watched the proceedings. but where was the prisoner? where was frank wenlock? a dire sinking gripped colvin's mind. had they done it already? surely the volley would have awakened him, or had he slept too soundly? involuntarily he gazed from side to side. "stand there," said his guard, halting him in front of the commandant's table. the latter looked up at colvin's greeting, barely returning it; then he said: "what have you to say?" colvin looked fairly puzzled. "to say?" he echoed. "i do not understand, mynheer commandant." "the prisoner wenlock has escaped." colvin started, and his whole face lit up with satisfaction. "escaped, has he? well then, mynheer, all i can say is, i think you are well rid of him. frank is a good fellow ordinarily, but he can make himself most infernally objectionable at times--as yesterday, for instance." he thought it politic to make no allusion to the death sentence. but at heart he was overjoyed. "_you_ it was who helped him to escape," said schoeman, and the tone, and the look of fell menace on his face, suddenly revealed to colvin that he was standing on the brink of a yawning abyss. it behoved him to keep his head. "look now, mynheer," he said, "i would ask how i could have helped him to escape when i never left my tent the whole night." "that we shall see," rejoined schoeman. "but how could i have left it, when i was kept in it by an armed guard placed there by your own orders?" retorted colvin. "i know nothing of such a guard, and i gave no such orders. it is now time for prayers, also for breakfast. there are those here who are ready to prove that you helped the prisoner to escape. in an hour's time i shall require you here again. i warn you, mynheer, that unless you can disprove the statements of these, things will be very serious for you. retire now to your tent." escorted, as before, colvin went; and as he went he reflected. the extreme gravity of his position became plain in all its peril. it occurred to him that somebody or other desired to be rid of him. yet, why? he had no enemies in the camp that he knew of. true, he had somewhat wounded the commandant's self-esteem at first, but surely schoeman's vindictiveness would not be carried to such a length. well, there was no telling. either frank wenlock had been allowed to escape, in order that the charge of aiding and abetting might be fastened upon himself, or he had been quietly made away with--always with the same object. and looking at it in this light, colvin realised the trap he was in, and that his own life was in very considerable danger. chapter eleven. to take his place. it was a curious court-martial this before which he was now convened, thought colvin, the ridiculous side of things striking him, as an hour later he stood once more before the commandant's tent, having washed and got some breakfast in the interim. this old dutch farmer, clad in greasy moleskins, and crowned with a weather-worn, once white chimney-pot hat, was his judge, with absolute power of life and death, and looked moreover as solemn as though he thoroughly realised it. those others too, squatting on the ground, smoking pipes, and very frequently spitting: on their good word depended to a very great extent his own life. "do you confess to having assisted the prisoner to escape?" asked the commandant. "it will save trouble and lighten the guilt upon your soul if you do." "certainly i do not, mynheer," returned colvin. "how can i have assisted any prisoner to escape when i was a prisoner myself?" "_maagtig_! said i not that all englishmen were liars?" grunted the old burgher, for the benefit of those within the tent. morkel, too, colvin had not failed to observe occupying the same seat as yesterday. but morkel had turned on a wooden expression of countenance, and avoided catching his eye. clearly morkel believed in the maxim anent self-preservation. he had a wholesome fear of drawing suspicion upon himself. "we will first hear the testimony of adrian de la rey," said the commandant. colvin managed to repress the astonishment he felt as adrian came forward. the latter differed in outward trappings from the other burghers only in the fact that his get-up was smarter. he, too, avoided colvin's glance. "tell your story," said the commandant shortly. but before the other had said half a dozen words, colvin interposed: "excuse me, mynheer commandant. but in taking evidence it is usual and indispensable to take it on oath--to swear the witness to tell the truth. now this has not yet been done." it was just possible some advantage might be gained by this formula being observed, but colvin did not reckon it would amount to much. morkel, however, put in a word in favour of the suggestion, and accordingly adrian was sworn after the usual dutch method, with his right hand held up. then he proceeded to tell his story. as one of the field-captains of the burgher force it had been his duty to go the round of the sentries. two mounted guard over the place wherein frank wenlock was confined, namely, the stable at the back of gideon roux' house. the door was locked with a strong padlock, and there was one window, which was iron barred, and fairly strong. one sentry was stationed beneath this, and the other before the door. when he arrived at the stable he was surprised that the sentries gave him no recognition, but, on examining further into the matter, he found they were both asleep. moreover, he could hardly wake them, and when he did, they excused themselves by saying that the englishman in the camp--not the prisoner, but the other englishman--had given them a _soepje_ out of his flask. his first thought being for the security of the prisoner-- the witness had ordered the door to be opened. but the key could not be found. it had been in the first sentry's keeping. then having called several times to the prisoner inside, and receiving no answer, the witness had caused the door to be broken open. the prisoner had vanished. this had happened at about twelve o'clock. but half an hour earlier he had met colvin kershaw wandering through the camp, and they had stood chatting for a while. kershaw had told him he had been at gideon roux' house, and was returning to his tent. after his discovery of the escape he, adrian, had thought of arresting the accused, but had placed his tent under guard until the morning. "the accused man says it was under guard all night," said the commandant. "do you know anything of such a guard?" "nothing whatever, mynheer." now, indeed, the whole mystery was clearing up, decided colvin, but clearing in such wise as would be disastrous, if not fatal, for himself, adrian de la rey was the prime mover then in this matter. adrian had every motive for destroying him, and now adrian had concocted this plot for his destruction. he saw through it now, and his heart sank within him. schoeman and his crew would be willing accomplices. he had no friends here in this camp, and he knew, all too well, that no chance would be allowed him of communicating with those he had elsewhere. now he claimed his right of cross-examining witnesses. at first the "court" was not inclined to allow this. of what use was it? it savoured of the blasphemous. god-fearing burghers, who had sworn to tell the truth, and had called god to witness, could not lie. but he pressed his point and, being supported by morkel, carried it. not much good did it do him, however, with this witness. not all his cross-examination could shake this tissue of amazing lies which adrian reeled off with a glibness which imposed on his hearers up to the hilt. everything he had said he stuck to; doing it, too, with a sorrowful and against-the-grain air. this englishman with all his lawyer tricks could not shake that honest and simple testimony, decided these unsophisticated burghers, and all his efforts at doing so only served to deepen the adverse feeling. the two sentries were then called, and their testimony exactly corresponded with that of adrian! they were somewhat heavy-looking young men--brothers, named hattingh. asked what the drink consisted of, they thought it was whisky. it was not square-face or _dop_? no; they were sure it was whisky. all englishmen drank whisky; therefore, decided the hearers, the man who gave them the drink must have been this englishman. both brothers had the same tale to tell, and they told it so glibly, so naturally, as to puzzle even the accused himself. they were of the type that do not make good liars--that is, in the sense of ability to sustain a series of consistent and circumstantial lies; indeed, had he been an impartial auditor of their testimony, instead of one vitally concerned therewith, he was forced to own to himself that he would have believed it. such being the case, it was hardly to be wondered at if those who heard it believed every word. these witnesses knew this englishman, but not very well. they had seen him sometimes about the camp, and when he came up and chatted to them, and offered them something to drink, they were only too glad, for the nights up here in the wildschutsberg were chilly, and a drop of something warmed a man. and here we will digress briefly to explain that what would have been a very serious offence for all concerned, in the british regular, or even irregular forces, constituted just no offence at all in a boer commando. for a boer commando represents a chronic state of "marching-at-ease," and the fact of a couple of sentries having a chat with a comrade and a "nip" out of his flask was nothing. both these men colvin cross-questioned, not at any length, and in a conciliatory tone, and his main points were as to how they could be sure of his identity in the dark, especially as they had owned to being personally unacquainted with him. but the questions seemed genuinely to surprise them. for one thing, it was not so dark. the stars were shining very brightly. a boer was not an englishman that he could not see out of doors by starlight. then followed gideon roux, who testified that colvin had spent at least two hours at his house the evening before. he would have left about the time named by adrian de la rey, but he could not say for certain within half an hour or so. what had the accused to go upon? one after another of these men came forward unhesitatingly to swear away his life, for that is what he fully realised this mock trial to have for its object. the net was winding itself more fatally about him, and by nothing short of a miracle now could he be extricated from its entangling meshes. in gideon roux' malignant face a gleam of devilish exultation seemed to lurk, as though he recognised that this was a safer, surer method of disposing of an obnoxious and inconvenient person than shooting at him in the dusk from behind a rock. those around listened in solemn and impressive silence. the groups of bystanders had been steadily augmenting, and now nearly the whole camp stood crowded around, in a strangely picturesque armed assembly. after gideon roux followed that worthy's _vrouw_, looking quite as slatternly and rather more frightened than on that occasion when colvin had partaken of her somewhat grudging hospitality. she emphatically confirmed all that her husband had said. the course the accused took with her was to remind her as impressively as he was able of the oath she had taken, and to suggest that she had better think well over her testimony lest she should have been mistaken. sheer waste of words. colvin realised that he was doomed, and that every man in that camp believed every word that had been stated with regard to him. so when hermanus delport, and one or two others, came forward to corroborate that he had spent the evening at gideon roux' house, he simply refused to waste time or trouble asking any more questions. what he would ask, however, was that the man who had mounted guard over him should be put forward the man who had kept him a prisoner all night--that was, from just after sundown--by the commandant's orders. "i gave no such orders, as i have said before," said commandant schoeman. "were any such orders given, _heeren_, by any of yourselves?" turning towards the other occupants of the tent. "_nee_--_nee_," came forth the reply, universal and emphatic. "we know of no guard being placed over the accused during the first part of the night." colvin had thought they had now got more than ample testimony--false testimony--to afford them all the pretext they wanted. but he reckoned without commandant schoeman. said the latter: "mynheer morkel. will you kindly stand where the others have stood, and tell what you know of this matter?" morkel fairly started, a great look of dismayed consternation overspreading his features. "but i know nothing about it, mynheer commandant," he protested. "i have not seen or spoken to kershaw since i begged you to grant him an interview last night." "just so, mynheer morkel. but we want to know what passed between you and the accused man _before_ that. stand up. the exigencies of the republics imperatively require it." this was a command there was no disobeying, so morkel stood up, and was duly sworn. he would willingly have perjured himself up to the scalp in such a cause, but he knew it would be useless. there might have been spies overhearing all that had passed between him and kershaw relative to frank's condemnation, or even if not there would be no difficulty in putting forward sufficient witnesses to swear that they had overheard it, giving of course their own version. bidden by the commandant to state exactly what passed between himself and the accused with regard to frank wenlock, morkel said that he himself had brought kershaw the news that the other was condemned to death. how had the accused received it? he had been very much shocked and distressed naturally, the other having been a great friend of his-- morkel left out "fellow-countryman" just in time. but even with all his court experience he made the mistake of expatiating on what had led to that friendship, realising with dire dismay, when too late, that he had furnished an additional motive for colvin to act as was alleged. "did he not ask what could be done for the condemned man?" inquired schoeman. "he did, mynheer commandant. but--" "he asked that question more than once?" interrupted the remorseless voice. "naturally, mynheer. that was why he so urgently wished for an interview with yourself--to plead the cause of his friend." "and when he found that he could not obtain that interview, what then?" "he was disappointed, naturally. but he said it would all come right. he could not believe that brave men--burghers fighting for their liberties and independence, civilised christian men, could take the life of a man, especially a young man, by nature hot-headed and foolish, simply because he had made some rude and insulting remarks," added morkel, somewhat mendaciously, and indeed he seemed to have scored a strong point, for a murmur, not unsympathetic, went up from the audience. "the behaviour of frank wenlock was insulting and offensive, the accused had said, but surely not a crime worthy of death," went on morkel, waxing eloquent. "that will do, mynheer morkel. you can now take your place again," said the commandant. then to colvin, "what have you to say? now we have heard all the witnesses, what have you to say?" "very little, mynheer. this is a plot. adrian de la rey has a grudge-- a bitter grudge--against me, the reason of which does not matter. i believe he has manufactured the whole of this accusation. i believe he himself let wenlock escape so as to fasten it on to me. gideon roux owes me money, and therefore would naturally turn against me. his _vrouw_ looked frightened enough to satisfy even you that she was talking under compulsion. hermanus delport is a friend of and related to gideon roux. as for the two men who were on guard over frank wenlock, i believe they are under some extraordinary delusion and were speaking the truth as far as they knew. morkel has stated the burden of our conversation quite correctly. but there is one witness we have not heard, and that is the man who turned me back into my tent last night." "there is no such man," retorted schoeman shortly. "it is all a fabrication. well, then, that is enough. you came into our camp, and enjoyed our hospitality." "no, i was brought here by force," interrupted colvin. "still, still! do not interrupt. you then took advantage of your position here to commit a hostile act--an act of hostility against the republics, which have sheltered and shielded you--by aiding and abetting the escape of a prisoner." "that is not true," retorted colvin. "before god, in whose presence we stand, i know no more of frank wenlock's escape, have had no more to do with it, than the president himself." "do not add lying and blasphemy to your offence," said schoeman unctuously. "for the crime of which ample testimony has convicted you, you will take the escaped prisoner's place. you will be shot at sundown." a gasp went up from the listeners. the proceedings had impressed them deeply. "not yet," said colvin, in a loud firm voice. "i appeal to the president. in the presence of you all i appeal for justice to his honour the president of the transvaal republic." schoeman smiled coldly. "his honour is not _our_ president--not yet. we are not of the transvaal republic. do you wish to converse with a minister of the gospel to prepare you to meet your creator?" he added, still unctuously. "yes," answered colvin, unwilling to let slip any potential loophole, however minute. "mynheer albertyn, of schalkburg, is a good man. can he be fetched?" the commandant looked surprised, then conferred in a low tone with his subordinate commanders. "he can be fetched," he answered. "and as you have shown a proper frame of mind, instead of blaspheming god--as your fellow-countryman did--more time for preparation shall be allowed you. instead of at sundown, you must be ready for death an hour after sunrise to-morrow. that will allow you some hours to pray with the _predikant_." "i am grateful for that, mynheer commandant. but now, hear me. standing here, on the threshold of death, i proclaim adrian de la rey a liar and perjurer--a perjurer who has taken the name of the great god to witness his falsehood. out there," waving his hand in the direction of the far-off british entrenchments, "is possible death for any man-- glorious for the patriot, but for the liar and perjurer what--? i see you, adrian. do not try and skulk out of sight among honester men than yourself. well, then, look me in the face, liar! so sure as i stand here will death find you. within three days death will find you out. now, liar and coward, well may you grow pale." adrian, white as a sheet, was trying to meet his denouncer's gaze, but for the life of him could not at that moment. muttering something, he slipped away. and colvin kershaw followed his guards to his final prison, well knowing that his hours were numbered. chapter twelve. gert bondelzwart's news. the town of schalkburg was still in possession of the enemy. the free state flag waved above the court-house, and the "patriot" burghers, whether of the free state commando or rebel colonial boers, had things all their own way, and a great time generally, for they proceeded to "commandeer" all the necessaries of life, and a good many of its luxuries, from the temporarily conquered people, and to make themselves very much at home among them, mostly at the expense of the latter. for these the only thing to do, however, was to accept the situation, and make the best of it. there was one to whom this course recommended itself, and that was mr jelf. he would laugh ruefully over his enforced suspension--ruefully because he was sure the colonial office would hold him responsible, since for what is a long suffering civil commissioner not responsible-- and play whist with his superseder, a free state attorney, who had been set up by the burghers to administer the law as landdrost. but there was practically no law to administer in schalkburg, for now every man did what was right in his own eyes, unless some misguided and commandeered native shirked or strove to abscond. in such cases the newly fledged landdrost did administer the law, resulting in vehement contact between raw hide and the aboriginal cuticle. jelf was not a little anxious on the score of his absent subordinate, who had been away on one of those semi-official investigations what time the town was captured. he hoped morkel had not come to grief with those fiery english aspirations of his; and then he would smile to himself as he reflected that such sentiments were patient of sudden metamorphosis under stress of circumstances. no, morkel would turn up again sooner or later, he supposed. he had felt very disgusted at the behaviour of jan grobbelaar. this was the ultra-loyal field-cornet then! stephanus de la rey, at any rate, had been an honest man, but swaart jan was a snake in the grass, and he, jelf, had not hesitated to tell him so when he had ridden up beside commandant schoeman to demand the keys of the offices. but the little man had merely shown his tusks in a deprecating grin. "what would mynheer have?" he said. "a man must march with his own countrymen. but mynheer and he need be none the less friends for all that." as a matter of fact, jelf had no reason to complain of his treatment under the circumstances. he was a good-natured man and not unpopular among the dutch farmers of his district, and now these showed him respect and consideration. schalkburg just then comprised another inmate, and that a personage not the least important in the unfolding of our narrative, namely, aletta de la rey. she was staying with some relatives, an old couple who had retired from farming, to settle in the township on their own _erf_; and she had been obliged to seek shelter with them because on reaching home she had found that all the family were away in the free state--a fact which had not been known to her, partly owing to her sudden and unexpected homeward move, partly that, thanks to the war, communication was frequently interrupted and always uncertain. but, as it happened, she welcomed the discovery with a feeling of intense relief. she had shrunk in anticipation from the questionings of her own family, now she would be spared these for a while longer. the van heerdens, her relatives, were a very old couple with hardly an idea outside their own _erf_ and the covers of the family bible. they were not likely to bother her with inconvenient questions. poor aletta! she had indeed gone through the fire since the day of that horrible discovery. what a bright paradise had she been living in--and now? her ideal vanished--her idol fallen and shattered--what more did life hold out for her! ah, to think of it, this man who had been to her as a very god--who was not as other men--who had come into her life to take possession of it, and to whom she had surrendered, a willing, happy captive--for him to deceive her, to make her the victim of such a commonplace, petty form of deception! surely that discovery had killed her love. why had he done it? it was so needless, so commonplace, so cruel! why had he left her to endure the agony of apprehension on his account for days, for weeks--the while he was safe and sound within a few hours of her, carrying on this intrigue? she would rather--infinitely rather-- that that agony had met with its worst and fatal fulfilment, that he had been brought back to her dead. to think that he, her god, could stoop _so_ low, could place himself in such a contemptible, pitiable light before her. that look in his face as he met her glance--the startled shame and consternation at being found out--that would haunt her to her dying day. why had he ever professed love for herself? and having done so, why--if he had found such profession premature--did he not say so openly? it would have been a cruel insult; still she thought she could have borne it better. she had never grudged may wenlock her bright physical attractions; indeed, she had recognised them openly and to the full. she remembered how often they had laughed over old tant' plessis' favourite saying as to may being the only english girl, and now she concluded that the old lady was not such a fool as they had supposed. possibly nationality did count in the long run, though, where love was the consideration, aletta, for her part, could not understand how nationality should make a hairsbreadth of difference. and, again, she thought, she herself was not even decent-looking--well she remembered how that statement had been received by him to whom it was addressed-- whereas this english girl was bounteously dowered by nature with outward attractiveness, and, after all, she supposed this was what weighed with men. well, she must get this man out of her mind. with time and determination she supposed it could be done. she must grow to regard him as one who had passed out of her life, as one who was as completely dead to her as though actually so to this world, and must contemplate the fact with equanimity, with utter indifference. oh yes, that would come--in time. would it? this was a very changed aletta now, and the merry, happy, spontaneous peal of laughter was never now heard--even the faint and ghostly semblance of it but seldom. the sweet, bright, radiant spirits seemed to have found a grave. yes, on the whole, perhaps it was as well that these relatives of hers were too old, and other people too preoccupied with the movement of events around, to notice the difference. "missis, i have something to say," exclaimed a voice in dutch. looking up, aletta saw a tall, ragged, travel-worn looking yellow man. his hands were trembling as he fumbled with the catch of the garden gate. she came quickly down the garden path to meet him, realising as she did so, that her walk was somewhat unsteady. for in the man who had thus suddenly broken in upon her meditations she recognised colvin's griqua servant, gert bondelzwart. "i have dreadful news for you, missis," jerked forth the latter, his voice shaking with excitement. "they are--going to shoot him!" aletta could feel her cheeks grow pale and icy. "who is going to shoot whom?" her bloodless lips managed to gasp forth. "baas colvin. _die boeren mensche_," he answered. "_ja_, they have sent in now for the _predikant_ to come out to the baas. he is to be shot to-morrow morning." "oh, good god!"--no, she must not faint, she must act. "where, gert?" she went on. "where?" "at krantz kop, missis. gideon roux' place--schoeman's commando." "has mynheer started yet? quick! say." "_nee_, missis, not yet. four burghers came to escort him out, and they have off-saddled while the _predikant_ is inspanning. oh, _mijn lieve baas_--_mijn lieve baas_! what can be done, missis? what can be done?" the fellow was actually weeping. even in the agony of the moment the thought flashed through aletta's mind that this man could command such devoted attachment from even a hottentot. "what can be done!" she repeated. "this is what you have to do, gert. saddle up the _rooi-schimmel_ there in the stable. put a man's saddle on him, for _you_ will have to ride him, and come round with me to the _predikants_ house--now at once." "_ja_, missis." and gert departed with willing alacrity. aletta ran quickly to her room. a couple of minutes sufficed for her to get into such travelling attire as she deemed necessary. but one article of her outfit where with she provided herself would have struck with wild amazement and misgiving anyone who should have seen her. she felt devoutly thankful that the old couple had toddled off to exchange gossip with a neighbour, for not only had she the house to herself, but was spared the vexation and delay of explaining her movements. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ mynheer lukas albertus albertyn, v.d.m. resident minister of the dutch reformed church at schalkburg, was a fair type of the average country _predikant_, which is to say that he performed all the duties of his office with ordinary conscientiousness, had a keen eye to the customary emoluments of the said office, both in currency and in kind, and was regarded with veneration by the female side of his flock, and the older and less progressive of the male. his political sympathies were all with his own countrymen and the cause of the republics, and his outward appearance we know, for we have already made his acquaintance during the opening event of this narrative--at the political meeting gathered to hear the fervid oratory of andries botma, to wit. mynheer was seated in his dining-room snatching a hasty lunch prior to setting forth upon his errand of mercy. truth to tell, he was rather a puzzled _predikant_ at that moment. what on earth did they want to shoot this englishman for? he was well known to many of them, was in sympathy with them, too, and moreover was engaged to the daughter of one of their most prominent burghers. again, it was odd that an english man should send for him at such a time. englishmen of colvin kershaw's class, when they did not hanker after popery, scoffed at all religion, was mynheer's experience. there was an english _predikant_ at schalkburg, too--one who set up candles and brazen idols, and called those of the reformed creed ugly names--why did this englishman not send for him? perhaps because of the candles and idols. and at this point mynheer's reflections were suddenly and somewhat unceremoniously interrupted, for a quick knock sounded on the door-panel, followed by the entrance of its perpetrator almost before he had time to call out "come in!" "why, aletta!" he exclaimed. and then the words of welcome died in his throat. this girl was engaged to the englishman who was to be shot on the following morning! "i am going out to krantz kop with you, mynheer." she began. "i know you will not refuse me a seat in your trap--remembering"--and her voice was caught back by a sob, which, however, she manfully suppressed. "but, aletta, my child, only think. you can be of no use, i fear. had you not better resign yourself to the will of the almighty and remain at home and pray--while there is yet time?" hollow sounding as this commonplace was--claptrap even--it had asserted itself as a mere veil to mask the speaker's own feelings. anti-english or not, he was a good-hearted man, this _predikant_, and then, too, aletta had been one of the most brilliant and satisfactory of his confirmees. he had a great partiality for her. "_nee_, mynheer," she answered, "the time for mere praying has not yet come. and even if it had, i must _see_ him once more. don't you understand? but if you refuse me, i can still go by myself. i have a horse here, and i will ride all the way, even if i kill the animal." her quick, eager decisiveness, the utter misery depicted in her face, showed him that here was no mere weak girl to be reasoned with and advised, but a resourceful, determined woman. here was a side to aletta de la rey's character which was a revelation to the worthy _predikant_. "well, well, of course you must go with me, my child," he answered very kindly. "they are nearly ready for us." "i have just time to write a line to my father," said aletta, moving to a writing table without ceremony. this was no time for trivial observances she felt. she dashed off a few hasty lines, hasty but emphatic, and thoroughly lucid and to the point. her father was not very far from the free state border. by an effort he might arrive in time, and his influence was great. the _predikant's_ cape cart was already inspanned, and the attendant burghers, who were seated in their saddles, stolidly waiting, saluted her as she appeared. gert bondelzwart, too, was all ready. "gert," she said in a low tone, "you know your shortest, straightest way. do not lose a minute, even if you kill the horse. a minute may mean a life remember. no one will attempt to stop you, for i have put that upon the letter which will open a way for you anywhere." "_ja_, missis," said gert, and away he went. then she got into the cart beside mynheer, and they, too, started. chapter thirteen. at the price of herself. up till now aletta had asked no questions. she had accepted gert's assurance, of which the man's obvious distress was sufficient confirmation. her quick-witted, practical nature had asserted itself. that was no time for questions. she must act, and that promptly. now, however, that they were well on their way, and covering the ground at the best pace the _predikants_ excellent horses could put on, she reckoned the time had come to know more. why was colvin kershaw to be murdered--for it was murder she declared? what had he done? but mynheer could not tell her much beyond the bare facts of the case as he knew them, for the burghers who had come to fetch him had been extremely reticent. "helping a prisoner to escape. but that is not a thing to shoot a man for," she said. "oh, i will plead with the commandant, and you will, too, will you not, mynheer? ah, if only father were here, they would not dare do it then. but--who was the prisoner, and did he escape?" "he escaped--yes. it was frank wenlock, and he was to be shot for insulting the president and the patriot cause, and assaulting one of the burghers. he was very violent, and very blasphemous--_ja_, that i can quite believe, for did not he and some of the worst characters in schalkburg disturb our service one evening at nachtmaal time, by ringing the bell which hangs outside, and running away? and he gets drunk and rowdy when he comes into the town. no, he is a bad character. kershaw ought not to have exchanged his life for the life of such a man as that." they conversed in english so that mynheer's native groom might not understand. the burgher escort, too, were mostly close to the vehicle. so it was for frank wenlock's sake that colvin was throwing away his life, thought aletta. mynheer had spoken truly indeed, as to the vast disparity of such an exchange. but--he was may's brother. that explained it all. how colvin must have loved that other girl, to make the greatest sacrifice that human being can make--for her sake! and the thought had a kind of hardening effect upon aletta, for she was but a woman after all, not an angel. why should she continue to pour out her love upon one who had proved so faithless? only an hour or two ago she had been telling herself that he was practically dead to her. yet the moment she had heard that he was soon likely to be actually so, here she was moving heaven and earth to save him, or, at any rate, to see him once more. well, she would still do all she could to save him, but she would not see him again, in any event. no, from that resolve she would not swerve. "but how did he get to krantz kop, mynheer?" she said, in continuation of her thoughts. "he was at pret--johannesburg when i saw him last." "they say he had come from cronje's force, and had seen a lot of the fighting near kimberley. i don't know this schoeman, but jan grobbelaar and the others ought to be able to do something for him between them." "he _had_ been with cronje's force, then?" echoed aletta, as though a new idea had come to her. but it was quickly dashed. he had had plenty of time to have gone there afterwards, after that day when she with her own eyes had seen him making love to may wenlock. with her own eyes! there was no getting round that fact. and the hours wore on, bringing these two nearer and nearer to their sad and mournful goal. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ night had fallen upon the burgher camp at krantz kop, and most of its inmates, habituated to rising with the sun and retiring with the going down of the same, or not long after it, were in the land of dreams. they were under no fear of surprise, for besides the fact of their sentries being well posted there was a strong commando, with artillery, entrenched below on the outer slope of the mountains, and between them and the far british lines. so the camp slumbered in peace and security. in one tent, however, a light was still burning, throwing the shadows of men--huge, distorted, grotesque, out upon the canvas. adrian de la rey and his two now boon companions--gideon roux and hermanus delport--sat within. a bottle of _dop_, the contents of which had nearly reached vanishing point, stood on a waggon box in the centre. "_toen_, adrian!" the last of these was saying. "all is going well now. the englishman will be out of your way to-morrow for ever--out of all our ways, hey, gideon? we will come to your wedding soon, _ou' maat_-- when we have shot a few more of these cursed english. do you think oom stephanus will be glad to see us?" "finish up, and go away and sleep," growled adrian, pushing the bottle towards him, "or you'll be too shaky for anything in the morning, both of you. you'll miss him at ten paces, like you did before at two hundred." "_nee_, _kerel_, _nee_. but that was in the dark," replied hermanus, grabbing the bottle and his tin pannikin, which rattled against the glass neck in the drunken shakiness of his big hand. "_maagtig_! leave some for me, mani," cried gideon roux, striving to wrest the bottle from the other. by the time he had succeeded there was precious little in it, and then this noble pair went forth, rejoicing in anticipation of the act of butchery which was to fall to their lot on the morrow. left to himself adrian let fly an ejaculation of mingled thankfulness and disgust. he had indeed fallen, to have become the boon companion of such as these. they were of the very lowest type--hardly removed from the _bijwoner_ class--drunken, coarse brutes at that; but now they were his accomplices in his act of murderous villainy--his tools. his tools? yes, but they would soon become his masters. no, that they should not--he told himself. let to-morrow's deed be done and over, and they would soon see that he was not a man to be trifled with. reveal the conspiracy? would they? and if so, who was going to take the word of two such shady characters as they? no, indeed. but after to-morrow he would turn over a new leaf--would make a fresh start. a fresh start? what sort of a fresh start could be made with murder for its foundation? yes--murder! alone there in the silent night, alone with his evil conscience, the words of his victim uttered that morning-- uttered, too, with the semblance of a prophecy--came back to him: "so sure as i stand here death will find you. within three days death will find you out." he shivered. men on the brink of the grave were, he had heard tell, at times gifted with supernatural foresight. and then in letters of fire upon the darkness of his thoughts seemed to blaze forth those other words: "they who take the sword shall perish by the sword." for "sword" read "bullet" colvin kershaw was to die in the morning, with several bullets through him. he, adrian, had murdered him--by means of a fiendish plot, and abundance of false testimony. the next few weeks-- months even--would bring with them a series of hard-fought battles, and then should _he_ escape? "bah!" he exclaimed, pulling himself together. "these are all old women's tales. i must take my chance, and i dare say it is as good as any other's. what is the use of a college education if i get the funks over old exploded superstitions only good enough for those two pigs who have just gone out? i wish they had left me something in this bottle all the same," holding it up, as though still vainly hoping, and then pitching it outside the tent. "wheels!" listening a moment. "the _predikant_ must be arriving. well, much good may _he_ do." he could hear the trap draw up at gideon roux' house over the way and the sound of voices, could see a light or two, as the people were outspanning. then he re-entered his tent, and again his thoughts reverted to the doomed man. "within three days death will find you out," the latter had said, and again adrian's heart failed him as he remembered how likely of fulfilment this prophecy was. out yonder in the low country the british were advancing, and now their own forces were lying massed ready to give battle. "within three days!" a voice outside, drawing nearer, broke in upon his reverie. "that is his tent," it was saying. "we will see if he is there. adrian!" and with the call the flap of the tent was parted and a bearded face appeared. "i have brought you a visitor, adrian." the man made way for a second person, a tall, female figure wearing a long cloak. "aletta!" cried adrian in amazement, as a throwing back of the hood revealed the features. "well, and what brings you up here?" he went on in a hard tone, trying to hide the mortification, the jealous rage he was feeling. "i am here to save you from blood-guilt--to save you from heaping a black and cruel murder on your soul," answered the girl, her eyes shining bright and stedfast upon his face as she stood confronting him. "no, no. you have come to save this faithless hound--this lover of yours. but you can't. we are taking too good care of him for that," sneered adrian, stung by jealousy and hatred. no conscience qualms inconvenienced him now. "but i must say, aletta," he went on, "that i see you here with very great surprise. after what you saw--saw with your own eyes mind--at johannesburg i wonder you can give this fellow a further thought." "i will not have him murdered. listen, adrian. _you_ let frank wenlock escape in order to fix the blame upon colvin and so compass his death. yes, you ought to be in this place." for the life of him the other could not repress the amazement, dismay, guilt, which leaped into his face. aletta spoke with such confidence, such knowledge. how could she know? he thought. had roux or delport been bragging in their cups? as a matter of fact, however, she was merely shooting a random bolt. "i think you must have taken leave of your senses, aletta," he answered. then changing his tone, as the sight of her standing before him stirred up all the old jealous rage against this english interloper, he went on: "and what if i did? what if i did? he will be shot anyhow." "adrian, i never thought to have to name you a cowardly murderer--one who kills not openly, but by lies and plots." "i don't mind that. what about this valiant englishman who sneaks in between you and me, and steals away your love from me, only to make a plaything of it? yes, for it would have been mine, i know it would. and we should have been happy--ah yes, happy. this english dog! what name have you for such as he? and have you forgotten, aletta, that little talk we had one day in the garden at ratels hoek? i told you then that the man who should come between you and me had better look after himself, whoever he might be. i told you that, did i not? well, this man has come between you and me, and in less than twelve hours he will be dead!--dead--do you hear?" his voice had taken on a sort of growl, and his face was hard and set with hate and passion. "no, he will not be," she answered. "for i will save him. yes--i. this very night i will go and plead with the commandant. he will listen to me for my father's sake. if the worst comes to the worst, i will denounce you as the real offender. for i can convince him that you are." "no--no. i think not," replied adrian jeeringly. "schoeman is as hard as iron, and you might plead with him until the day of judgment for all you would effect. the fact of you being your father's child would not move him an inch. he would be more likely to say it was a shameful and scandalous thing for a girl to thrust herself forward in such a matter. but if you want to make perfectly sure, come with me and i will take you to his tent now. all the same, by going there you will be destroying any slender chance colvin might have." his words, his confident manner, had their weight with aletta. it was exceedingly probable she might fail to move the commandant. she had another card in her hand--a better trump she thought--and she decided to throw it. "oh, adrian, i fear you are right," she said softly, still talking in english, as they had been doing all the time, by way of precaution against prying ears. "but do not let us quarrel and say hard things to each other. i thought _you_ would help me if anybody would." her eyes filled, and she hardly seemed able to go on. the sight softened adrian! who was as madly, passionately in love with her as ever. "do help me, adrian. you are able if anybody is. i want to save his life for the sake of what he has been to me. listen. i never want to see or speak with him again--only to save his life. oh, it is horrible--horrible that such things should be done! help me, adrian! it is only to save his life, and you from murder." ah, she had come down now from her judgment seat. she was the pleader now. adrian, whose sombre eyes had never left her face throughout this appeal, was conscious of the wave of a new hope surging through his being. "you only want to save his life? never to see or speak with him again?" he repeated. "yes--yet no. i must just see him to satisfy myself that he is really alive and safe--but not to speak to him." for fully a minute they stood there gazing into each other's face in the dull light of the tent lantern. then adrian said: "you are right, aletta. i can help you. i can save his life. but"-- and his words were slow and deliberate, and full of meaning--"if i do what is to be my reward?" she understood, but she did not flinch. "if you do--if you save his life, if you let him escape, i will marry you, adrian! that is what you wish, i suppose?" "great god, it is!" he answered fervently, his dark face flushing with intense joy. "you will soon forget this englishman, my darling--you, whom i have loved ever since we were children. but--swear that you will keep this compact, aletta." "i swear it," she answered, hardly recognising her own voice. "i will keep my side. i will show you this englishman alive and free, and then you will marry me?" "but how--how will you do it?" "that is my affair--leave that to me. kiss me, aletta, to seal our compact." "no--no. not here, not now," holding up a warning hand. "do you not see? the light throws our shadows on the tent. i am going now. remember, i trust to you. no--do not come with me. i prefer to be alone." it was only a hundred yards across to gideon roux' house, where aletta was to sleep. she had sacrificed herself to save the life of the man who had faithlessly made a plaything of her love, and her heart was cold and heavy within her, for she had bought that life at a great price-- even the price of herself. adrian from his tent door watched her retreating form, and his triumph and delight were unbounded. he had won all along the line; and aletta had immolated herself all to no purpose. for he had no intention of fulfilling his side of the compact. even though he won her, his peace and happiness in her possession would never be secure while colvin kershaw lived; therefore, colvin should die at dawn, and in a few days he would satisfy aletta that he had fulfilled his bargain by showing her that other kershaw whose likeness had deceived her before, but under circumstances which would preclude speech--even as upon that other occasion. chapter fourteen. in the shadow of doom. "curious sort of `condemned cell' this," whimsically thought colvin kershaw to himself, as he gazed around the place wherein he was confined, and whence frank wenlock had escaped. for commandant schoeman's promise that he should take the late prisoner's place had been carried out to the letter, and here he was, shut up within gideon roux' stable, only to leave it to go forth and meet his death. he had pleaded to be allowed the use of the tent he had hitherto occupied--at any rate, until nightfall. not many more hours of god's air and sunshine would be his, he had urged. but a decided refusal had been returned--a refusal tinged with characteristic sanctimoniousness. he would be better in confinement. there he would find nothing to distract his thoughts in his preparation for the great and solemn change, he was told, as would be the case if he were where he could see and hear everyday sights and sounds, and others moving about him. so here he was, under a strong guard, locked up within a not very clean or sweet-smelling stable for the few remaining hours of his life. he looked around. even then he could hardly realise it. more than once he had been in here before, seeing to his horse, on such occasions as he visited gideon roux. the worm-eaten and much bitten crib, the pile of old forage ends, and stamped-in grains of stale mealies underneath it, and a curry-comb and brush, and an old headstall or two hanging from a peg--the forage cutter had been taken away--all looked so home-like and everyday. it seemed incredible, incongruous, even absurd to try and realise that this place was for him as truly a condemned cell as the massive walls and stone floor of the preliminary living tomb in old newgate or holloway. he could hear the sounds of the camp--the hum of harsh voices, and now and then the tramp of a horse. sounds, too, redolent of peaceful and everyday life--the clucking of poultry, the bleat of a goat, the fretful yelp of a child, and the now monotonous, now querulous voices of women, for the house was but a few score yards away. yes, it was hard to realise that these four brick walls constituted but the ante-room to the far narrower walls of earth, which by that time to-morrow would have closed round his bloody and lifeless remains. was there no prospect of escape? again and again, while pacing up and down his strange prison, had he calculated his chances. frank wenlock had escaped, but only through aid from without. who would aid him, and if any would, how could they? as for any efforts of his own, of what avail? the window was strongly barred, and two guards, armed with magazine rifles, were posted immediately beneath, as he was reminded by the frequent appearance of a face at the said bars. two more were before the door, and as for drilling an aperture in the wall, why he had nothing to do it with. the possibility, too, of tunnelling under the foundation of the further wall occurred to him, and here his eye once more rested on the old curry-comb. but the floor of the place was stone paved, and the noise inevitable to the undertaking would betray him twenty times over, even at night. moreover, he was only too well aware that in view of the former escape the vigilance of his custodians would be more than doubled. he remembered andries botma's final offer of assistance, and his first appeal had been that the judgment upon himself should be postponed until he had communicated with the man for whom these here professed such profound veneration. but this proposal schoeman had curtly negatived, nor would he permit any communication whatever with the outside world. such farewell words as the prisoner had to leave for relatives or friends he might remit to the _predikant_, but even these must be written in the presence of mynheer himself. once the thought of sending for adrian de la rey crossed his mind. an appeal to adrian's superstitions and a solemn warning to him to withdraw from this deliberate act of murder might be effectual. but the idea was scouted as soon as conceived. adrian had everything to gain by his destruction--and was he likely to throw away the crowning triumph of his plot at the very moment of grasping it? not in the very least likely, and besides, the barrier of pride rose up against any such course. and what of aletta? never now would he get at the mystery which had dictated that enigmatical message, never now ascertain what had caused her great love to fail and waver in distrust and doubt. that adrian was behind this, too, he was equally certain. he had not been mistaken in aletta. her nature was no ordinary one to be disturbed and shaken by a mere ordinary motive for doubt, however craftily suggested. yet what was the secret of that doubt? try, rack his brains as he would, he got no nearer to it than before. her words were always in his mind: `remember, _i saw_,' but never suggesting even the feeblest glimmer of explanation. what had she seen--when, where, and how? nothing that regarded him. on that point his conscience was perfectly clear. since they had exchanged their mutual love vows his conscience, as towards her, was as clear as the sky above them at that moment. yes, looking back now upon those long and happy months, he realised that the latter end of his life, at any rate, had contained for him all that was worth living for. and now that he had touched its outer edge, a strange philosophical feeling of satisfaction that she, at any rate, would not have her life spoiled by his memory, if she had already learned to distrust him, came over him--a satisfaction that well-nigh quenched the bitterness and disillusioning that she had done so. almost, but not quite--for, after all, he was but human. the hours wore on. his guards thrust food and drink--of the coarsest description--into his prison, and retired without a word, carefully relocking the door. it was evident that they were under very special orders, and would answer no questions. he was left once more to his own thoughts. colvin stood in no greater fear of death than most other men who have more than once seen it very near; yet that helpless sense of being shut up, to meet it in cold blood at a given time, was a trifle creepy and unnerving. more than once, in his dreams, he had been under sentence of death, had even come to the steps of the scaffold, and each time had seemed every bit as realistic as the last, or, if possible, more so. was this, too, a dream? should he wake up directly and find himself back again at pretoria, or at ratels hoek, or his own farm? he looked around. was he really awake--or was this, too, only another nightmare? ah no. it was very real. about his worldly affairs he felt but scant anxiety. they were all in order. he was a fairly methodical man, and before leaving for the theatre of battle and hourly risk he had seen to all that. after all, some would be the gainers by his end--some perhaps who needed to be, very sorely--some who would even in consequence remember him with a little kindness and gratitude. yet there was but little of the last in this world, he reflected, tolerantly cynical. the sun dropped, and the shadows of evening darkened his place of confinement, and then with the deepening gloom a feeling of great desolation came over the man, a feeling of forsakenness, and that never again would his ears receive a word of sympathy or friendship, let alone love. he hungered for such then. it was the bitterest moment he had known yet. seated there on an old wheelbarrow in the close, fusty smelling stable, with the long night before him, he well-nigh regretted that he had been allowed the extension of time. it would all have been over by now. he would have sunk to rest with the evening's sun. then upon the black gloom of his mind came the consciousness of approaching voices--then the rattle and rasping of the padlock, and the door was opened. one of the guards entered, ushering in three men. he was bearing, moreover, a lantern and a chair, which having set down, he retired. by the somewhat dingy light of the lantern colvin recognised his visitors: schoeman, jan grobbelaar, and the _predikant_. he greeted the last-named, with whom he was already acquainted. then a thrill of hope went through his heart. had they thought better of it and were here to offer him deliverance? "we have given your case every consideration, nephew," began the commandant in his dry, emotionless, wooden tones. "you have professed yourself one of us, and by way of proving yourself to be so have committed the act of a traitor, in that you have set one of our enemies at large." "pardon me, mynheer commandant," interrupted colvin. "i have done no such thing. i deny it here on the brink of the grave. i will be candid enough to say that i might have done so had it been in my power. but you know perfectly well it was not." "you have committed the act of a traitor," went on schoeman, ignoring the protest as completely as though the other had not spoken, "and therefore you have been adjudged to meet a traitor's doom. but our good brother mynheer grobbelaar here and others have pleaded for you, and so we have decided to remit that judgment upon you, subject to one condition. you are to have a chance of proving your good faith. you are to undertake to serve in arms with the republican forces where and whenever required, until it shall please the good god to bring this cruel and unrighteous war to an end and give victory unto those who serve him. and to this end you will sign this declaration." colvin took the paper, and by the light of the lantern closely scanned it--not without eagerness. it was written in dutch and contained an oath of submission to the south african republics and an undertaking to bear arms on their behalf even as schoeman had set forward. "and if i sign this your sentence is not to be carried out, mynheer commandant?" he said quickly. "in a word, this is the price of my life?" "that is so," said schoeman. "then i refuse the conditions. i will not sign it. i refuse to draw trigger on my own countrymen!" "_toen_, colvin. sign it, man. sign it!" broke in swaart jan eagerly. "we don't want you to be shot, _kerel_." "thanks, oom jan. i don't believe _you_ do. but i can subscribe to no such declaration, be the consequences what they may." then jan grobbelaar, who was really well disposed towards the prisoner, became voluble. why would he persist in throwing away his life in that foolish manner? he was one with them now, why not throw in his lot with them openly? it did not matter in the long run. the republics were bound to win, since god and justice were on their side--and so on, and so on. all in vain. "it is of no use, oom jan. i'm grateful to you all the same. but under no circumstances whatever can i consent to fire on my own countrymen." the little man was really distressed, and was pouring forth his volubility once more. but schoeman interrupted. "then you refuse the chance we offer you?" "on those terms--absolutely." "be it so. your blood be upon your own head. and now we will leave you with mynheer, for your hours are but few indeed." and the two went out--swaart jan shaking his head lugubriously over the astonishing obstinacy of the man he would fain befriend. colvin was not one of those who sneer at religion, though his views upon the subject were broad enough to have earned the thorough disapproval of the professors of more dogmatic creeds. as we have already hinted, his motive in sending for the _predikant_ was primarily one of policy, partly in order to gain time, partly to placate those in whose hands he was. yet now that mynheer had come he was not sorry, in that he had someone to talk to, and, as we have said, his loneliness had been getting terribly upon his nerves. so he listened while _the predikant_ read some scripture and said a few prayers, and when the latter asked him if he forgave those at whose door lay his death, he answered that he had no feeling against them; that if they were doing him to death unjustly--well, he supposed he had done things to other people some time or other in his life, which they didn't like, and this might go as a set-off against such. adrian de la rey was the hardest nut to crack, but, on the other hand, he had a grievance which he, colvin, ought to be the first person to make allowances for. no--he didn't think he wanted adrian to come to grief, although he had said so that morning. it didn't matter to himself anyhow. then he wrote some final letters relating to his worldly affairs, the _predikant_ having obtained for him, at some difficulty, the requisite materials. he left a few lines for stephanus de la rey, and more than a few for aletta. even then of the girl's presence in the camp mynheer albertyn did not inform him, and the reason lay in aletta's own wish. she had decided not to see him. she had saved him--as she thought--and it were better not to see him. it was part of the bargain with adrian, likewise it would bring back all too forcibly the last time she had seen him. "well, mynheer," said colvin at length, "now we have put all that straight we can chat for a little. it seems rather selfish keeping you up all night like this, and it was very good of you to come. you won't regret it either. but you don't have to sit up every night with a poor devil who's going to be shot at sunrise anyhow." this cheerful calmness under the circumstances was clean outside the _predikant's_ experience. he felt as though he must be dreaming. it was unreal. here was a man whose life had reached the limits of a few hours, who was to be led forth to die in cold blood, in the full glow of his health and strength, yet chatting away as unconcernedly as if he were at home in his own house. jesting, too, for colvin had touched on the comic element, not forgetting to entertain mynheer with the joke about old tant' plessis and calvinus. so the night wore on. the doomed man slept at last, slumbering away the fast waning hours that remained to him of life. chapter fifteen. love's triumph. the sun had mounted above the eastern end of the wildschutsberg, and now an arrowy beam, sweeping down from the gilded crags, pierced like a searchlight the cold grey mists of early dawn. the burgher camp was astir, roused by no bugle call or roll of drum; opening the day by no parade of flashing accoutrements or inspection of arms. yet every unit in that force was alert and ready, prepared to receive the orders of the day and act upon them with unparalleled celerity and absence of fuss. this morning a solemn and awed tone seems to pervade the camp, a demeanour perhaps to be explained by the approach of a great and terrible battle; yet not altogether, for most of these men have been through such and it has not so affected them. there is, however, another explanation, for among the first of the orders of the day is that decreeing the taking of the life of colvin kershaw. the life of one man! but they have counted their own dead by dozens already in battle, those of the enemy too. yet the anticipation of the extinction of this one man is sufficient to move the whole camp to awe. ah! but there it is. the excitement of the strife is wanting: the combative instinct dashed by the loftier motive of patriotism. this man is to be done to death in cold blood. beyond gideon roux' homestead, on the side furthest from the tents, is an open space, backed by the steep slope of the hillside. here the whole camp is collected. the burghers, all armed, are standing in two great lines, not in any order except that the ground between these lines is kept rigidly clear for about twenty yards of width, and the reason thereof is now apparent. the doomed man, escorted by half a dozen guards with loaded rifles, is drawing near. colvin's demeanour is calm and self-possessed, but entirely free from bravado or swagger. his clear searching eyes wander quickly over the assemblage, and a faint, momentary surprise lights them as he notices the presence of a few women among this crowd of armed men. they are placed, too, at the further end, quite close to where he himself shall stand. as he enters the avenue thus left open for him, every head is bared. he lifts his own hat in acknowledgment of this salutation, and proceeds to the place pointed out, which is marked by a _reim_ placed on the ground. it is the line which he is to toe. the _predikant_ is not beside him, in compliance with his own wish. as he stands facing his slayers, a dead hush of silence is upon the crowd. through it rises the voice of commandant schoeman, hard, emotionless, yet crisp and clear. "even now, colvin kershaw, even now, as you stand upon the brink of your grave and are about to pass into the presence of almighty god, even now we have decided to offer you one more chance. will you sign and abide by the declaration which was tendered you last night?" "i refused to purchase my life at such a price last night, mynheer commandant, and i refuse again. here, as you say, upon the brink of my grave, i will die rather than draw trigger on my own countrymen. my sympathies with the republics and their cause are great, as many here know. but i will not fight against my own countrymen." the tone was firm, the answer clear and audible to every soul there present, and the effect thereof did not differ greatly. some were inclined to resent what they called the obstinacy of the prisoner, but to the minds of most the words carried increased respect. "one thing more i desire to say," went on colvin, holding up his hand as he noticed that the commandant was about to give the signal. "here, on the brink of the grave, i solemnly repeat i am being put to death for an act which i never committed. i do not say i would not have committed it had opportunity afforded, for the man was my friend. but i did not. i die the victim of false swearing." "you have refused our mercy, even at the twelfth hour," said schoeman. "so be it." he made a signal. three men stepped forward, each slapping a cartridge into his rifle, confronting the doomed one at about twenty paces. in that dread and critical moment colvin recognised two of them--gideon roux and hermanus delport. the third was unknown to him. "where is adrian de la rey?" he said, in a tone of good-humoured satire. "_he_ should have been the third. it would have made the plot more complete." up went the three rifles to the shoulder, then down again immediately. a gasp of horror arose--of dismay, amazement, consternation. something had happened. the doomed man no longer stood alone. between him and the deadly, levelled weapons--screening him from them--stood a tall female figure, whose graceful lines were shrouded by a long cloak. just a fraction of a second more, and the murderous bullets would have transpierced two bodies instead of one. among the onlookers the thrill of horror and amazement deepened as the hood was thrown back, revealing the head and features of the wearer, who was known to many of them. the countenance of the doomed man lighted up with a glow of such unutterable affection as to leave room for no other emotion. "aletta! so you have come to take leave of me!" he said. "my darling one, and yet the sight of you once more adds a hundredfold to the bitterness of death." "of death? no, no, you shall not die, unless we both do. not a bullet shall reach you that does not go through me first." she clung to him in such wise as to render the truth of her words obvious. the appointed executioners had lowered their weapons and stood irresolute, as though looking for orders. "remove her!" cried commandant schoeman. but nobody seemed over eager to obey. then, after a hurried consultation with three or four of his subordinate commanders, he went on: "you will have a respite of exactly five minutes, kershaw. not one second longer." "we have but a short time, aletta," resumed colvin, in english and a low tone. "tell me quickly--why did you write that strange message--`remember--_i saw_'? what did it mean? what did you see?" "ah, let us forget that. love--love! that is as nothing now. you shall not die." "tell me--tell me! time is flying," he urged. quickly she told him--how adrian had warned her that she was being deceived; had proved it to her through the agency of her own eyesight, that day at johannesburg. "adrian was lying. yet there must be somebody bearing a wonderful likeness to me. look me in the eyes, aletta. here at the grave's edge i tell you, this story is absolutely untrue. i went straight to cronje's column, and did not even leave the train at johannesburg. afterwards you will learn this for yourself. sweetheart, i have never deceived you in word or deed. do you believe me now?" "implicitly! oh love, love! i am not fit to live after you, and i will not. say you forgive me!" though they could neither hear nor understand what was said, there was such a wail of despair and loss in her tone as to reach the hearts of the bystanders. some turned away with wet eyes and a lump in their throats. one or two actually blubbered. "forgive?" he repeated. only the one word--he too seemed choked for utterance. but it conveyed all--all she would fain have heard. in the face of the whole assembly, she drew down his head, and pressed her lips to his in one long despairing kiss. one or two more of the burghers turned away and blubbered aloud. "the time has gone," said schoeman, in his iron voice. but he might as well not have spoken for all the effect his words seemed to have on the two prominent figures in this heart-rending drama. they were locked in each other's embrace, as though alone in the world together. "remove her!" repeated the pitiless tones. "it is a scandal for a woman to make such a scene as this, and at such a time. why are my orders not obeyed?" "she is the daughter of one of our most respected neighbours, commandant," growled a burgher from the sneeuw river. "we cannot lay hands on her." "_ja_, _ja_. that is true," echoed several voices. schoeman was nonplussed. as aletta had said, the prisoner could only be shot at the price of her life! then a bright idea struck him. "you have shown yourself a brave man hitherto, kershaw," he called out. "will you now show yourself a coward and shield yourself behind a woman? if not, put her away from you and stand forth." "you hear what he says, aletta? one more good-bye kiss, my very own, and then leave me. ah god--how are we to part like this?" "we will not part. if they shoot you they shall shoot me. but--they dare not, the cowards. they dare not. see!" now her tone rang hard and steely. still clinging to him, so that he could not move from her side without using force, and yet leaving herself the freedom of her right hand, she had drawn a revolver--a very nasty looking and business-like one at that. "now come, brave burghers," she cried. "advance. the first man who makes a move on us i will shoot--will shoot dead. then the next, and the next, and then myself. as god is in heaven above i will do this." not a move was made. they stared at each other stupidly, this crowd of armed men. she would be every bit as good as her word--the flash of her eyes told them so much, for it was that of a tigress when her cubs are threatened. things were at a deadlock. "the paper, commandant! ask him if he will sign the paper now," was one of the suggestions thrown out. "_ja, ja_. he will sign it now," cried several voices. "the paper! the paper!" but commandant schoeman was in a cold, quiet sort of rage. he was being set at defiance in the face of his whole command, and that by a girl. he rejected this way out of the difficulty--rejected it curtly and uncompromisingly. "remove her," he said again. one or two of the older men stepped forward, intending to try the effect of remonstrance. but the revolver covered them instantly, aimed low, they noted, and there was such a deadly gleam in aletta's eyes that they stopped short and retired. schoeman was white with rage. but before he could decide on what to do next, a diversion occurred, unlooked for and startling. the sound of many hoofs clattering up the road over beyond the _nek_ was borne to their ears. whoever the new arrivals were, they were advancing at a furious gallop. the cry went up that the english were upon them, and for a moment the assembly was in a state of tumult. only for a moment, though. schoeman, as cool and brave a man as ever lived, quelled the confusion by a word or two. for his ears had caught the challenge of their own vedette on the ridge, and the answer thereto in the _taal_. these were not enemies, he decided. a few moments more a score of horsemen appeared on the _nek_, and rode straight into their midst without drawing rein. a largely built man with a full brown beard was riding at their head. "_maagtig_! it is stephanus de la rey!" was muttered from mouth to mouth. aletta heard it, at the same time that she recognised her father. "we are safe, sweetheart," she murmured, beginning to tremble now that danger was over, as she supposed. "i said you should not die. yes, god is good. we are safe now." but those there assembled had not reached the limit of their surprises for that day yet. the party consisted of about a score of armed boers who had volunteered to accompany stephanus de la rey to schoeman's camp, but riding beside stephanus was one who was not a boer, being none other than frank wenlock, the escaped prisoner. the burghers crowded around the new arrivals, the general feeling being that of intense relief. for now that the original offender was recaptured, there was no need to shoot this other. "where was he caught? who captured him?" were some of the questions showered upon the party. "nobody captured me," replied frank, in a loud clear voice. "i have come in of my own accord, because i heard--no matter how--that colvin was to be shot instead of me. so i came back as quickly as i could, and seem to be only just in time." "is that true, brother de la rey?" said schoeman. stephanus assured them it was. frank had joined him entirely of his own accord. "you were to have been shot at sunrise yesterday morning, and it is past sunrise this morning," went on schoeman, turning to frank. "it is you or the man yonder. are you prepared to undergo our judgment on you?" "why, of course," answered frank bravely. "i am not going to allow colvin to die in my place. englishmen don't do that sort of thing." "guard him," said schoeman. "in ten minutes, be ready." chapter sixteen. the falling of the scales. at the end of the prescribed time frank wenlock was marched before the commandant. his demeanour was very different now to what it had been upon the last occasion. all the swagger and aggressiveness had disappeared. his manner was quiet without subserviency. schoeman read him a long lecture upon his former shameful conduct and the magnanimity of the burghers of the republics. did he wish to apologise for his behaviour and the insulting references he had made to the president? "certainly, mynheer commandant," replied frank. "i'm a rough and ready harum-scarum sort of a chap, and i must have said some rather beastly things about people you all think a lot of. well, i am sorry." "that is good," said schoeman. "mynheer de la rey has been pleading for you, and some others who have known you at home. their esteemed words, and remembering that you are little more than a foolish boy, and the only son of your widowed mother, have decided us to spare the life which you had forfeited. but there are two courses, one of which we must exact from you--to be sent to bloemfontein as an ordinary prisoner of war, or to pledge yourself not to serve against the republics or those in arms on their behalf. in which case you may go free. which do you choose?" frank's face clouded a moment, wherein is a paradox. a moment ago he was expecting immediate death--now he was disappointed because denied the opportunity of meeting it every day or so. "choose your freedom, man," said stephanus kindly. "remember you have a mother to take care of." "very well. i will give you the pledge, mynheer commandant," frank answered. "but of course you will not have colvin shot?" "under the circumstances, no," was the cold reply. "hooroosh! you are gentlemen, you are, all of you!" cried frank, his exuberance getting the better of him. "wait till we meet in schalkburg again. we'll drink old pritchett's bar dry. but, now for colvin." the latter had not moved from the spot on which he had stood to meet his death, and aletta had not moved from him. she still held the revolver in her right hand, keeping jealous watch on the possibility of a suspicious move towards them. but for the moment the attention of everybody was riveted in the other direction. not until her father approached her alone did she begin to feel reassured. "aletta, my child, you may put away that plaything," called out stephanus. "colvin is safe now. i have schoeman's word for that. besides, i am able to ensure his safety myself." "aletta has saved me, stephanus," answered colvin as they exchanged a great handgrip. "look at this child of yours. but for her you would have been here just ten minutes too late. they had actually levelled the rifles when aletta deliberately shielded me with herself. it just turned on the merest hairsbreadth of a pressure on the trigger. look at her, stephanus, and you will be looking on the bravest, sweetest, truest woman that ever brightened god's world, and be as proud, to your dying day, that she is your own daughter as i am that she is to be my wife." "er--i say, colvin, old chap--how are you? i don't want to intrude-- only just to wring your flipper." and frank wenlock, looking from one to the other, edged in, and performed that somewhat syllogistically described feat with a will. "it wasn't my fault, miss de la rey," he exclaimed. "i hadn't the ghost of an idea they'd dream of meaning to shoot him till i heard it--well, by accident. when he got me safe off the premises yonder, he swore again and again that he wasn't running the slightest risk himself--that he stood too much in with them--and so on. otherwise i wouldn't have budged. i have my faults, but i wouldn't have allowed another fellow to get shot instead of me, and that's why i came back now." "look here, frank," said colvin, "would you mind explaining precisely what on earth you are talking about?" "oh, come, that's rather too good. ain't i talking about the night before last, when i was going to be shot in a few hours, and you came in and turned me loose. eh?" "then you are talking of what never took place. as sure as i stand here, the last time i saw you was when you were playing the fool there in front of schoeman and the rest, simply committing suicide like the consummate ass you were, and always have been. as for turning you loose, i couldn't have done so even if i'd wanted to. old schoeman took jolly good care of that by putting me under arrest myself." frank stared, whistled, then shook his head. "all i can say is then, that if it wasn't you, it was your bally ghost. that's all," he said. "well, you'd better not talk about it any more, frank," said stephanus. "don't you see, man? it's a thing to forget now." "oh--um--ah--of course, i see," assented frank readily. "that may be, stephanus," said colvin, "but i have assured the whole of this crowd upon my honour that i had no more to do with frank's escape than the man in the moon. and no more i had." "no--no--of course not, old chap," cheerfully rejoined frank, who didn't believe a word of the other's denial. "well, after all, what's the odds now? all's well that ends well." "there's some mystery behind all this," said colvin in a low tone to himself. but aletta heard it. and then her own doubts came back to her. what if they had all been mistaken? there was evidently someone about who bore an extraordinary likeness to colvin. her own eyes had deceived her once. yes, it was extraordinary. "_mijn baas! mijn lieve baas_!" just outside the group stood gert bondelzwart. he had watched his opportunity to sidle up, for in a boer laager native servants were not wont to move about with the same free and independent swagger as, say, in the suburbs of cape town. colvin turned: "hullo, gert, how did you get here?" "ah!" cried stephanus, "you have to thank this rascal that i am here at all, colvin. he it was who brought aletta's note telling me of the fix you were in, and killed one of my best horses in doing so, but that's nothing. the wonder to me is he got through at all." "_ja_, _baas_. it was a wonder," put in the griqua. "twice i had a volley fired at me, but i knew what delay would mean, so i wouldn't stop. ah, well, we came in time--we came in time. and the _klein missis_ told me it didn't matter if i killed the horse if only we did that." "gert, you are a fine fellow, and i won't forget in a hurry," said colvin, turning a very kindly glance upon his faithful servitor. "why, what is all this about?" for a new diversion had occurred. was there to be no end to the events of that day? a party of burghers were riding up, but--great heaven! what was this? what did it mean? who was that in their midst? colvin kershaw? yet, there stood colvin kershaw. but--here he was too! not a face in that crowd but was agape with wild amaze. what on earth did it mean? was this man the devil in disguise, they asked, that he could be present in two bodies at the same time? even the stolid philosophical dutch nature was stirred to the core, as in breathless excitement the burghers awaited the explanation of the new arrivals with this exact replica of colvin kershaw in their midst. the latter had dismounted with the rest, and, pulling out his pipe, began to fill it. those looking on could not fail to note that in manner, in every movement, the resemblance between the two men was faultless. he, for his part, not yet having descried his duplicate, was lazily wondering what the deuce all these dutchmen were looking so scared about. aletta, from where she stood, could see the stranger, and a perfect maze of bewilderment flitted across her countenance as she gazed at him. then a sudden light leaped into her eyes. "colvin," she murmured. "is that your twin brother?" "n-no. i have a half-brother somewhere in the world, last heard of in vancouver. i haven't seen him for years, but he wasn't like me then. but brother or not, aletta, i have an idea we have run my `double' to earth at last." "i think so too--darling," she whispered. the stranger's glance had now swept round to where they stood. he gave a start and a whistle of surprise; then approached them. "i believe i must have struck the real colvin at last," he began, without ceremony. here, again, standing together as they were, the height, the features, even the voices of the two men, were inimitably alike. yet aletta, with the eyes of love, and hearing sharpened by its spell, could detect a difference. nobody else could, however. "yes, that is my name," replied colvin. "but--you are not kenneth, surely?" "i am, though. look here," fishing out two or three directed envelopes. "but--i'm rather glad to run into you at last. people are always hailing me as `colvin,' and abusing me for not wanting to know them again--you know--when i tell them i'm somebody else. it's becoming a bore." "well, kenneth. i'm glad to see you, too, after all these years. you shall tell me about yourself by-and-by. but, first of all, would you mind telling me one thing. have you been staying in johannesburg some little while of late?" "rather--only just left it. why? oh, i suppose people have been mistaking me for you, is that it? has its awkward sides sometimes, hasn't it?" "it easily may have," replied colvin, with a meaning in his tone, which one, at any rate, standing beside him thoroughly grasped. "the commandant wants you. come!" kenneth kershaw turned leisurely. two armed burghers stood waiting. "oh, all right, i was forgetting. so-long, colvin. we'll have a great pow-pow by-and-by." they watched his retreating form. "i think the mystery is for ever clear now, sweetheart," said colvin. but aletta could not speak. she could only press his arm in silence. all the agony she had suffered came back to her, as in a wave. "i know what you are thinking, my darling one," he went on softly. "but i don't wonder you were taken in by the likeness. it is quite the most remarkable thing i ever saw." "yet, i doubted you. _you_!" "love, think no more of that. have you not really and truly drawn me out of the very jaws of death this morning? ah! but our sky is indeed clear--dazzlingly clear now." "tell me about this half-brother of yours, colvin," said aletta presently. "had you no idea he was in this country?" "none whatever. for years we had lost sight of each other. the fact is, aletta, i may as well tell you--though i wouldn't anybody else--but the chap was rather a bad bargain--on two occasions, indeed, only escaped by the skin of his teeth from coming to mortal grief. i would even bet something he'll come down on me to help him now, and if it'll do him any good i will. but he may have improved by now. some of us do with time, you know." it turned out even as colvin had said. when kenneth rejoined him for a little talk apart--after his interview with the commandant--he spoke of his own affairs. he had been very much of a rolling stone, he explained, and now he wanted to settle down. he was going to turn over a new leaf entirely. would colvin help him a little? the latter laughed drily. "whom are you going to settle down _with_, kenneth?" he asked. "the sweetest, prettiest, dearest little girl in the world." ("that of course," murmured the listener). "you know her, colvin. it was thanks to my likeness to you that i did." "name?" "may wenlock." "so? do you know, kenneth, this infernal likeness has put me to very serious inconvenience, and came within an ace of costing me my life? i suppose it was you who let out frank wenlock." "of course it was. but don't give it away." "no--no. but how did you manage to get here at all to do it without being spotted?" "oh, adrian de la rey fixed up all that. of course i had no notion you were anywhere around." "i see," said colvin, on whom the whole ingenuity of the plot now flashed. all these witnesses against him were not perjured, then. they had been genuinely deceived. the other, watching him, had no intention of giving away his own share, direct or indirect, in the transaction, or his partnership with adrian in that other matter. in the course of his somewhat eventful and very wandering life kenneth kershaw had never found overmuch scruple a paying commodity. "well, kenneth, i'll do what i can for you," went on colvin, "but i'm afraid it won't be much. and the feet is i'm just taking on an `unlimited liability' myself." "yes, so i concluded just now, from appearances. well, colvin, i congratulate you heartily." they talked a little about money matters, and then kenneth broke out: "hang it, colvin; you are a good chap after all. i had always somehow figured you as a priggish and cautious and miserly sort, which was the secret of your luck; but i don't believe there's a man jack on earth who would have been as splendid and as generous under the circumstances." colvin's face softened. "oh, it's all right, old man. don't get making a speech," he said. "i wish i could do more, but, as you see, i can't." "see! rather. and now, look here. i believe i am the bearer of some pretty good news. i didn't tell you at first, because i wanted to see what sort of chap you were. not, mind you," he added, somewhat vehemently, "that i have any interested motive now, not a bit of it. well--read that--and that." fumbling in his pocket-book, he got out some slips of paper. they were press cuttings from english newspapers, and bore dates of about six weeks previously: "by the death of sir charles kershaw, bart, of slatterton regis, dorset, and terracombe, devon, which took place suddenly the day before yesterday, the title and both properties, together with considerable sums in personalty, devolve upon his next-of-kin, mr colvin kershaw, at present believed to be in the transvaal." in substance the notices were alike, albeit somewhat different in wording. colvin reflected for a moment. then he said: "i suppose there's no mistake. it's rather sooner than i expected, kenneth, but of course i did expect it sooner or later. i am glad enough for its emoluments, but personally i don't care about the title. i fancy i shall grow awfully sick of hearing every cad call me by my christian name. i say, though, kenneth, we shall be able now to make a bigger thing of that scheme of ours, eh?" "by jove, you are a good chap, colvin," burst forth the other, understanding his meaning. but he did not let candour carry him far enough to own to the daring scheme he had formed for personating colvin in the event of the fortune of war going against the latter, as it had so nearly and fatally done. like scruple, candour was not always a paying commodity. colvin, for his part, was thinking with heartfelt gratitude and love, what a bright future he had to lay before aletta. kenneth, for his, was thinking, with a glow of satisfaction, that he was going to be very happy with may wenlock, under vastly improved circumstances, and that such a state of things was, after all, much more satisfactory than life on a far larger scale, but hampered with the recollection of a great deed of villainy, and the daily chances of detection as a fraud and impostor liable to the tender mercies of the criminal law. chapter seventeen. conclusion. midnight. the wind, singing in fitful puffs athwart the coarse grass belts which spring from the stony side of ridge or kopje, alone breaks the dead eerie silence, for the ordinary voices of the night, the cry of bird and beast, are stilled. wild animate nature has no place here now. the iron roar of the strife of man, the bellowing, crackling death message from man to man, spouting from steel throats, has driven away all such. silent enough now are the bleak, stony hillsides, albeit the day through they have been speaking, and their voice has been winged with death. silent enough, too, are the men crouching here in long rows, cool, patient, alert; for on the success or failure of their strategy depends triumph or disaster and death. silent as they are, every faculty is awake, ears open for the smallest sound, eyes strained through the far gloom where lies the british camp. hour upon hour has gone by like this, but most of these are men who live the life of the veldt, whose trained eyesight is well-nigh cat-like on such a night as this. they have measured the ground, too, and so disposed matters that they know within a yard and to a minute exactly where and when to open fire upon the advancing british whom their trustworthy emissaries shall guide into sure and wholesale destruction. adrian de la rey, lying there in the darkness, is waiting and longing, as no other, for the deadly work to begin. how he will pour lead into these hated english, how every life taken shall be as the life of his hated english rival! no quarter shall any receive from his hand when the slaughter begins. in the darkness and wild confusion none will see, and if they do, what matter? he will shoot down these cursed _rooineks_ like springbuck, he tells himself, even though they should bellow for mercy. he has heard of the well-nigh miraculous escape of that rival, and the inopportune appearance of his own accomplice; has heard of it, not witnessed it, because he had sought to be despatched on outpost duty in the early hours of that morning which was to have brought his rival's death. well, he would console himself with the thought that at any rate he had won aletta. she had given him her promise, and he knew her well enough to be sure she would keep it. but what of his side of the bargain unfulfilled? he had thought of that. he would persuade her that the firing was to be a sham, and that the firing party were using blank cartridge. he could easily induce roux and delport to swear to this. yet, it was inconvenient that aletta had mustered up the courage to act as she had done. he ought not to have overlooked such a contingency. still, she could not go back upon her promise. then, in the darkness, those words return to him--words spoken by his victim on the very threshold of the tomb. "within three days will death find you." words and tone alike appealed to the superstitious side of his nature then, and the effect remains now. perhaps, however, the fact of his intended victim having escaped death might have robbed the forecast of its prophetic nature. a barely audible whisper from his next door neighbour, and then but one thought alone can find place in adrian's mind. the moment has come. gripping his mauser in fierce, eager delight, he brings it forward on to the rest which he has already arranged for it. pitch dark as it is, he knows to a yard where the first bullet will strike. at the same time, ever so faint a spark away in the blackness catches his glance and the glance of many another. it might be the friction of metal--momentary and accidental--upon a stone lying on the slope, or it might be a signal. soon a stealthy sound reaches each listening ear--the sound of footsteps drawing near in the darkness. nearer--nearer--and then--the whole ridge bursts into a line of flame and a deafening crackle as of a mighty hailstorm upon myriad iron roofs. yet, great in volume as it is, not so great as to drown the wild, ringing british cheer as the khaki-clad figures, dimly visible in the unceasing flash of musketry, come surging up the slope, leaping, stumbling, falling, dropping down suddenly, only to spring up again and press on, the dreaded bayonet fixed, for the world-renowned charge before which nothing can stand. but the grim dwellers in these wild wastes are not to be turned so easily. a kopje hard by, silent hitherto, is now ringed with flame, and, caught in this terrible crossfire, the intrepid assailants are literally mown down, and for a few moments the slaughter is terrific. adrian de la rey, lying in his shelter, is pouring in his shots--cool, well-directed and telling. the expression of hate and blood-lust upon his set features is well-nigh devilish; yet his mind preserves a murderous coolness, as he watches every chance, and never fails to take it. but he is in the very forefront of the fray, and in the wild confusion a knot of desperate british, not hearing, or disregarding, the "retire," have charged with irresistible dash headlong on to his position. their wild slogan is in his ears, and in the ears of those beside him. the points of the deadly bayonets gleam in the sheeting flashes, and then--and then--with the hard sickening pang which wrenches his very life away--he discharges his mauser full in the face of the tall soldier, who topples heavily back with a hole through his brain-- and briton and boer lie feet to feet--facing each other as they fell. morning light--a truce--white flags here and there--the red cross symbol everywhere. the hillsides strewn with dead and dying and wounded, and up yonder, in their strongly entrenched laager in the background, commandant schoeman and the grim republican leaders are viewing their many prisoners, impassive, laconic, and manifesting neither surprise nor elation over the efficiency of the trap so carefully laid for the discomfiture of a respected and brave enemy. below, on the ridge, adrian de la rey is lying--lying where he fell, the bayonet which had let out his life in a great gaping gash resting across his body as it had fallen from the dying grip of the soldier--his dead, rigid face staring upward to the sky. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ratels hoek again, peaceful and prosperous--the blue smoke curling up from its chimneys, the flocks and herds scattered over their grazing grounds in the broad valley, black ostriches, with snowy wing-plumes, stalking truculently along the wire fences in the "camps"--ratels hoek peaceful and prosperous, as though no stern fratricidal war were going on not so very many miles away. down by the river bank two persons are wandering in easy restful happiness, and these two we should recognise, for they have borne their part throughout the time of trial and of storm, which for them, at any rate, has come to an end--has found its climax in the dawn of a lifelong joy and peace. around, the sunlight bathes, in a misty shimmer, the roll of veldt, and the slope of mountain and iron-faced cliff. the air, clear and fragrant and balmy, is redolent of the _very_ breath of a new life, and the sky, arching above in unbroken and cloudless blue, is even as their own clear and dazzling horizon. they are talking of many things, these two--of the dark days of doubt and trial, and peril--all of which have but served to refine and cement their great and mutual love--of the wedding which took place but a few days ago in schalkburg, on such a scale never before witnessed in that somnolent _dorp_. "one would have thought it nachtmaal time" had been the comment of more than one of the guests, so extensive was the gathering assembled to do honour to that most substantial and respected burgher, stephanus de la rey; and indeed the gathering had been as homogeneous as extensive--for every conceivable relative of the bride, whether on the paternal or maternal side, and every casual acquaintance or even stranger, had flocked into schalkburg to witness it. the church, tightly packed as it was, would not hold them all, nor yet would ratels hoek, whither all who could, subsequently repaired to spend the next two days and nights in uninterrupted festivity. of all this they were talking now, these two--and of the hundred and one droll and ludicrous incidents which had so appealed to the humorous side of both of them--the outspoken comments of the blunt old farmers and their _vrouws_ as to stephanus de la rey marrying his eldest girl to an englishman, under the palliative circumstances, however, that perhaps a rich englishman was a better match than an impoverished boer, after all; of the hopeless efforts to convince many of them that colvin was not the governor, merely because he had the right to prefix his name with "sir"; of old tant' plessis and her conviction that the great calvinus was a greater man than even she had thought, since he had been able to leave his grandson so much money; of kenneth kershaw, who while making a most efficient "best man," had given rise to endless chaff to the effect that he ought to be branded and ear-marked, lest at the last moment mynheer should marry _him_ to aletta by mistake; of frank wenlock, who waxed so exuberant amid all the festivities, that he came near starting a little war of his own right in the midst of the convivialities; of mynheer albertyn himself, who while congratulating the pair, and fingering gratefully by far the biggest fee he had ever seen in the whole of his professional career, had remarked drily, and not altogether jocosely, that he vastly preferred starting a man on fresh terms in this life to seeing him off into another; of the exceeding attractiveness in their array of bridesmaids of andrina and condaas, and a bevy of girl relatives pressed into the service for the occasion; of the absence of may wenlock, and the future before her and kenneth. this brought them down to serious matters and the fate of adrian. "poor chap," colvin was saying. "honestly, i don't bear him the slightest ill-feeling. i suppose i did come between you and him, dearest, and if that is not enough to justify him in hating me worse than satan, will you tell me what is?" aletta pressed his arm lovingly and for a moment said nothing. then: "that is so like you, colvin," she said. "you are generosity itself, my darling. yes, we can afford to think kindly of poor adrian now. but, oh colvin--what if you find afterwards that i am not able to make you happy? remember, i did not know who you were. i thought you were here among us to settle for life and farm." "would it have made any difference if you had known, lady kershaw?" he asked quizzically, slipping an arm round her, and looking down into her eyes. "not in my loving you," she answered. "but remember, i am only a boer girl, after all." "only a what? only the bravest, truest, sweetest, most refined and lovable specimen of womanhood i ever encountered in a tolerably wide experience. only--" "kwaak--kwaak--kwaa! kwaak--kwaak--kwaa!" shrilling forth his harsh call, an old cock koorhaan sprang upward from the thorn bushes on the opposite river bank, and went circling away over the ostrich camps, yelling up half a dozen others in his flight. the eyes of these two people met, and both broke into a hearty laugh. "why, i believe that's the same old joker i spared when we were here together that day, aletta," said colvin, turning to watch the disappearing bird. "yes, it must be, for we are on the same spot. colvin, my darling, our happiness first came to us on this very spot where we are standing. do you remember? and now that we stand here again, it is complete for ever. is it not?" "for ever," he answered, a grateful solemnity in his voice. and here, reader, we will leave them. the end. [transcriber's note: obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. the author's spelling has been maintained.] through shot and flame the adventures and experiences of j. d. kestell chaplain to president steyn and general christian de wet methuen & co. essex street w.c. london _colonial library_ to my wife who was one of the thousands who endured in the great struggle for freedom, i dedicate this book and with her i commemorate here the fidelity and patriotism of him who was my comrade in the field, and who died in the springtide of his life, a prisoner of war, at ladysmith, natal our son, charles kestell through shot and flame part i _hope_ chapter i i join the harrismith commando i purpose to chronicle in the following pages my experiences of the war between the boers and the english. it is my object to record what i went through on commando, and to give the reader an idea, according to my own observation, of the struggles and sufferings of a small nation against the overwhelming odds of an empire--nay, against the world itself. for was it not against the world that the little nation fought? think of it. not only did england have , men in the field against , of the two south african republics; not only did she have more guns than the two little states, much more ammunition, a much greater amount of supplies, a great many more horses, much more money--but she had the world also on her side. the world looked on the strife without putting forth a hand to help the weak against the strong: nay, it helped the strong. the united states of north america sold horses and wheat and meat to the mighty empire, that was carrying on a war of extermination against the two small states in south africa; the republics of south america gave mules; austria and russia supplied horses. i do not forget, when i say this, the large sympathy which the world showed us. i should be guilty of the most heinous ingratitude if i did not acknowledge that the world, and especially holland, went out of its way in liberally supplying clothing and large sums of money to our women and children in the concentration camps, and to the prisoners of war on the islands. but england had the advantage of a market almost wherever she wished to buy; and she closed up every avenue through which we might have been aided. and so the little nation stood alone, while its great adversary was assisted from the four corners of the earth. now i purpose to put on record my experiences in this strife. i will do so as well as i can. what i have to relate, however, will by no means be a history of the war.--we shall not have a history of the war until our children write it.--no, i am not going to write a history: i am going to record my limited experiences. you will not find here, for instance, anything about the events which happened at stormberg or magersfontein, or about the taking of bloemfontein or pretoria. i was not present at those events. only on that of which i was an eye-witness, or on what took place in the commando to which i belonged at the time, or what came to my notice shortly after its occurrence--only on that will i report in these pages. but let me tell you before i proceed, that i accompanied the burghers only as a minister of the dutch reformed church. i was never armed. i never took part in a fight as a soldier. i never meddled with military matters. all that, i felt, lay outside of my province. and yet, as will appear in what follows, i fought in the great fight. i was often in action, and if i carried no arms, i carried a pouch of bandages. my presence in a fight gave heart to some and eased the pain of others. i fought, too, in another way: i encouraged the burghers in every service i held, just as every chaplain ought to do, and admonished them to persevere in the great fight. but i never forgot that i was a minister of religion. every sunday, and whenever i had an opportunity in the week, i conducted divine service, taking, as a rule, my text from the old testament. besides this i devoted myself to ambulance work, without, however, ever wearing a red cross on my sleeve. i need not say that i was heart and soul one with the great cause of the republics. nothing lay nearer to my heart than their welfare; and when it appeared that war was imminent, and that it would be disastrous to my people, it weighed upon my mind like lead. war?--ay, war! i feared a collision with england from the moment that sir alfred milner proved at the bloemfontein conference that nothing could satisfy him. i became convinced then of what i had all along suspected, but would not believe, that the object of england was not to see that the uitlander should obtain his rights, but that the two republics should be annihilated, and that the map of south africa should, as rhodes had put it, be painted red. these suspicions of mine soon proved not to have been unfounded. president kruger had consented, at last, to grant the franchise to uitlanders, after a residence of five years in the country; and everybody thought now that war was averted, and that there would be a peaceful adjustment of the differences between england and the south african republic. but england did not want that. england wanted the transvaal. contrary to the expectations of everyone, the british government did not accept the proposal of president kruger, and said that it would dictate its own terms. it was speedily seen that england intended to do this by force of arms, for numbers of british troops had begun to mass on the boundaries of the two republics. at last england got what it had been seeking--a palpable _causa belli_, in the ultimatum which the transvaal government, wearied to death, at last issued. both boers and britishers have declared that it was a fatal mistake on the part of the transvaal to issue the ultimatum. the boers said that president kruger should have waited until england had begun hostilities; and the english protested that there would have been no war, if there had been no ultimatum. lord salisbury, especially, has never wearied in his attempt to make the world believe that england went to war with the republics solely because of the insult offered by the ultimatum; and that the two states themselves had by that act made it impossible for the british government to permit them to retain their independence. but the world knows better. the world knows that it was england, not the republics, that began the quarrel, when, contrary to the terms of the convention of , she interfered with the internal affairs of the south african republic; when later on she would listen to no proposal of the transvaal government, and when she began sending troops to the boundaries of the two states. the world can comprehend also that the republics could not wait until england had completed the massing of her troops on the borders, to wake up one morning and find themselves invaded from every side. the world, too, knows what must be said of the blow which falls in a manner mechanically, after unendurable provocation. and posterity, sitting in judgment, will pass its verdict on the ultimatum. it will say that it was a protest against wrong and oppression. it will hear a little people speaking through that ultimatum to a great nation: "thou art great and mighty, and thou wouldst set thy foot upon my neck; but i declare here before the whole world that might is not right; and i defy thee!" i cannot enter into a discussion here of the question whether the south african republic wronged the uitlanders. but if this had been the case, was england then the knight-errant among the nations of the earth, to rush to the succour of such as might be oppressed by the one or the other power?--and if she considered that this was her mission, why did she never attempt to teach turkey, russia, even the united states of america, what their duty was? nothing was further removed from the thoughts of england than such disinterestedness. but she imagined that she had a chance with this little people; and when she wished to beat the dog, she found a stick in the grievances of the uitlanders. poor transvaal, thou wert not perfect--far from that! but thou hadst had no time to become so. thou hadst had no time to develop into what thou wouldst have become in the course of years. thy great neighbour, arrived at maturity through centuries of imperfections, found thee a child, and, counting it a crime in thee to be a child, made a murderous assault on thee! * * * * * the negotiations between england and the south african republic were still progressing when england sent troops, not only to the transvaal, but also the free state borders. what else but undisguised hostility could the governments of the two republics see in this action of england? they were compelled by it to prepare themselves for any emergency; and enjoined, in consequence, the landdrosts to instruct the commandants of all the districts of the two states to commandeer the burghers. this commandeering took place on nd of october . it was on sunday, and many a boer had gathered his household around him, and was sitting with his bible open before him, while he was conducting his sunday family worship, when the field-cornet, or other person sent in his stead, came and told him that he had to appear at a certain place, with his horse, saddle and bridle, rifle and thirty rounds of ammunition, and rations for eight days. the harrismith commando was ordered to muster on the farm--_the oaks_; and most of the burghers composing it arrived there next day. we proceeded thence to tantjesberg, and approached in the course of a few days the boundary between the orange free state and natal, on the grand range of the drakensberg. to this border other free state commandos numbering in all about men came, while a like number were sent to the western boundary, and a small force to the basutoland line. the southern border of the district of harrismith was the line which had to be guarded, between the orange free state and natal. the commandos, therefore, which had come from other places to this boundary, had to pass somewhere through the district of harrismith. this happened in due course. during the week all the commandos passed east or west of, or through the town. the bethlehem burghers pitched their laager on the south-west near binghamsberg, a precipitous mountain which erasmus smit, the missionary who accompanied the voortrekkers, called kerkenberg (church hill) in his journal. this he did because a great cleft of a tremendous rock at the foot of the mountain, in which the name of piet retief is written in green paint, afforded ample space for conducting divine worship. the heilbron commando went to bezuidenhout's pass, and the kroonstad to tintwa. the burghers of winburg marched past on the east of platberg, and pitched their camp at van reenen, near the line of railway; while the men of the harrismith and vrede commandos went farther east to botha's pass, and formed the connection with the line of the transvaal forces on the west of majuba. it rained a great deal when these boer forces hastened to the drakensberg. i remember very well how the heilbron and kroonstad burghers rode through the town of harrismith in the rain. notwithstanding the depressing nature of the weather, everybody was cheerful, and all looked with boundless trust in god into the future. the heilbron burghers did not remain in the town, but the men of kroonstad waited at the church until their greatcoats and blankets, which they hung on the railings, were dry. meanwhile our women poured out warm coffee for the men, and began thus to take their share in the great strife, which had begun. i must here make mention of the manner in which the government took the interests to heart of such as had been deprived of their employment through the new state of things. it appointed a commission in every town, whose duty it was to inquire into the condition of the needy and to distribute flour and mealie meal, wherever they found that there was great want. the government also afforded facilities to the poor of earning money. it supplied the material for shirts and trousers, to be made for such burghers on commando as were in need, and paid a small sum for every garment that was made. the wives of the landdrosts and ministers were intrusted with this department. besides this, the women of the towns were asked to bake biscuits--the government supplying the flour for the commandos. it was beautiful to see how willingly the women undertook this hard labour. some of them baked as much as a bag of flour in a day; and i have seen at the harrismith station truck loads of biscuits ready to be carried to the forces in natal. this baking of biscuits was one of the first proofs of the devotion and self-sacrifice of our women. but i have anticipated a little. at five o'clock on the th october the forty-eight hours, which were given by the transvaal to england to decide whether she would withdraw her troops from the borders of the republics, had elapsed. england had not withdrawn her troops, and it was now clear to everyone that she desired war. everyone knew also now that from that hour we were in a state of war. it was now the interest of every chief-commandant (hoofd-commandant) to occupy the best positions, if possible before the english could do so. with this in view, orders were given that all commandos should be sent forward with the utmost speed, and take positions on the drakensberg. this was done, and by the th of october all the passes on the great mountain range were guarded by our forces. on the same day a meeting of free state officers was held in the tent of general marthinus prinsloo, and the question was there discussed whether a flying column should not, without delay, proceed west of ladysmith and blow up the railway bridge over the tugela at colenso. most of the officers were opposed to this idea, but it was resolved instead that portions of the commandos of heilbron, winburg, kroonstad, and harrismith should descend into natal that very night, under the command of commandant c. j. de villiers, who was temporarily appointed general in the place of general a. p. cronje. this force would have to co-operate with the transvaal commandos and endeavour to cut off the retreat of the english at dundee. i was present when the harrismith men were ready to go. how well i remember the command given by the brave and never-to-be-forgotten field-cornet jan lyon-- "four deep!" i see him in my mind's eye now, while i write, placing himself, every inch a soldier, at the head of his men and riding away. after him came field-cornet z. j. de beer with the harrismith town burghers. they rode past in splendid form, with the free state flag bravely fluttering in the breeze. something thrilled through my being when i saw these men, all of whom i knew, ride away into the great unknown. i knew that some of them would never tread free state soil again. and it happened sooner than i thought. next day field-cornet de beer collided with the carbineers not far from bester's station, and the first burgher of the harrismith commando was killed. to the best of my knowledge he was the first victim of the war: his name was jonson. the carbineers had attacked the men of field-cornet de beer on a ridge, and bombarded them with a maxim. our burghers held their ground until field-cornet lyon arrived with a reinforcement and charged the carbineers on their right wing. the english could not resist this onslaught and betook themselves to flight, never resting until they arrived out of breath at ladysmith. one of their officers, lieutenant galway, was taken prisoner, and sent to harrismith. the camp of the carbineers also fell into our hands, and the burghers were immensely pleased with the little light green tents they found. these were very portable, and went far and wide with the burghers in later stages of the war. after addressing the winburg men, i had returned to harrismith on the morning of the th, and was an eye-witness of the intense excitement of the town during the next few days, when news of battles fought in the north of natal arrived. we heard of the fight at glencoe on the th october, at elandslaagte on the st, and at rietfontein (modderspruit) on the th. in the first two the transvaalers had been engaged, in the last the free staters. i was very strongly affected, and felt after the news of rietfontein came that i could not remain at harrismith. i therefore decided to go to natal without delay and join the harrismith commando. on friday the th october i took leave of my wife and children, and arrived in the afternoon at the headquarters of general marthinus prinsloo. he was very kind, and provided a cart for my journey and that of dr. cilliers who also wished to go into natal. next day i arrived at bester's station, and had the opportunity of visiting the burghers who had been wounded in the fight at rietfontein. i was especially glad to see mr. jacobus de jager of loskop. as he was temporarily _hors de combat_, he offered me a horse and his own saddle for a time. i was of course very grateful and accepted his offer with alacrity. after breakfast, next morning, i set out with the object of finding the harrismith commando, and soon came to smith's crossing. there i saw what a farm looked like where looting had taken place. some of our burghers had destroyed everything there that was not firmly built on, or planted in the ground. the windows were smashed, the doors torn off, and everything that was of value or use was carried away. presses and chests of drawers had been broken open, furniture dashed to pieces, pillows and mattresses cut open, and everywhere about there were lying scattered in dreadful confusion, feathers of pillows and beds, pieces of furniture, torn books, photographs, plates, pots, pans, even articles of female attire. the sight of this affected me very unfavourably, as i found it did many others too. several remarked that we were not fighting for booty, but for the sacred cause of our independence. but the foreigners fighting among us against england laughed at our scruples. destruction of property, they said, was a part of the war, and england would destroy our farms worse when once she began. none of us would believe this assertion of the foreigners then. we know now how true it was. it is nearly three years now since i looked at the destruction at smith's crossing, and what have i not seen since of the destruction carried out by england? everything done by the boers is as dust in the balance, when compared with the devastation carried out by the british soldiers. now english officers, when taxed with the barbarity with which they devastated the farms in the two republics, have been accustomed to retort that it was we who began the game. to this it can be replied that the boers destroyed the houses of those only who had fled from their farms, and had thus shown that they were hostile to us; that even this was not done by order of the boer generals, nay, was done contrary to the express orders forbidding the destruction of farms, and that it was never carried out so ruthlessly as it was later by the english troops. the houses were never committed to the flames by the boers, nor did they blow up any farmstead with dynamite. but the steadings in the free state and transvaal were destroyed by fire or dynamite by order of a british field-marshal, and later of a british commander-in-chief. and there were hundreds of cases where this took place over the heads of women and children, who were immediately after the destruction exposed to the wet weather in summer and the cold of winter. nothing approaching such barbarity was ever done by the boers. if, therefore, the english were making reprisals in burning the farms, they avenged themselves not as cain seven times, but as lamech seventy times seven. i did not have to go far from smith's crossing. i found the harrismith burghers three miles to the west of ladysmith, near the homestead of mr. gert potgieter. they consisted of what was called a horse-commando, they were encumbered with no convoy, and only two or three waggons (one of them carrying ammunition) stood about. the difference between the camp here and the great laagers on the drakensberg, with their walls of encircling waggons, struck me. here there was nothing besides the little brown canvas free state tents, and the beautiful little green tents taken from the carbineers on the th. one would be much in want of many things, i thought, in a horse-commando, and life in it would be in the utmost degree repulsive, to a person especially with studious predilections, to whom the four walls of a study were more attractive than the wide, wide plains under the great blue vault above. i thought so then, but the time was coming when we should not have even little carbineer tents. however inhospitable a "horse-commando" appeared, the burghers were not so. they were mostly members of my congregation, and received me with the utmost cordiality. they gave me something to eat--just what they had ready--_kaboemielies_, (boiled maize). what better--what more nutritious food could they have given me than mealies? many a boer poet has sung the praises of the mealies, but the inspiration of each has failed. the day after i arrived in the laager, the th october, the battle of nicholson's nek was fought. it was in this fight that christian de wet made his first appearance. he was then an acting commandant, and led about men up the hill, where he captured british troops. the transvaal burghers were also engaged that day and took soldiers prisoners, so that we captured in all. i was not present. i only saw from a great distance our shells exploding on the battlefield, and i can therefore give no description of what took place. i met the rev. p. roux, who was subsequently appointed general, next day. he told me that he came on the scene just when the fight was over. he had been struck, he said, by the distress of the wounded. it was terrible to see what they were suffering in the broiling sun. he had also spoken to several english officers. one had said in a surly tone of voice: "this is only a beginning." mr. roux had replied: "yes, and we are quite satisfied with it." chapter ii a night march it was decided to invest ladysmith, and the free state burghers were ordered to occupy positions towards the north-west, west, and south of the town. the transvaalers took the opposite ridges and hills. why did not the boers make an onslaught on the town after the fight at rietfontein--why did not they do so after nicholson's nek?--or failing this, why did they besiege ladysmith? why did they not leave an opening on the south for the english to retire by? such questions have been repeatedly put after all was past, and it was seen what might have been done. but the people who put these questions assume circumstances which did not exist. for instance, it was altogether impossible in the as yet unorganised state of the commandos of the two states to venture on a united assault on ladysmith, after either rietfontein or nicholson's nek. and it is quite dubious whether the english wished to retire southwards. in fact the contrary appears to be the case, for they might have evacuated the town, if they had wished, before the nd of november,--eight days after rietfontein,--on which date the boers had completed the investment of the town. the british had, in point of fact, during those eight days not only shown no signs of any desire to leave the town, but they had made a sortie, which had resulted in the fiasco at nicholson's nek on the th of november. it appears thus, when everything is taken into consideration, that no general would have acted otherwise than general joubert did; and nobody, indeed, did think, during the siege of ladysmith, that it was a mistake to be doing so. it was only later that all manner of mistakes were discovered in the besieging of ladysmith, and not only of ladysmith, but also of mafeking and kimberley. _the town was besieged._ that is a fact. i have only to do with that fact now, and i am going to relate how the free state commandos did their part of the work. on the day after nicholson's nek, certain free state commandants were told by general a. p. cronje, who had arrived on the th october and assumed his command, to march their burghers to the south of ladysmith, and take up positions somewhere near or on the farm, fouries kraal. these burghers consisted of portions of the commandos of harrismith, under commandant c. j. de villiers; vrede, commandant anthony lombaard; and heilbron, commandant l. steenekamp. general cronje was in command of the whole force. mr. jan wessels of harrismith was appointed as guide, and the force began to move as soon as it got dark. this was my first experience of about a hundred night marches in which i took part during the war, and i must confess that it was one of the worst i was ever in. i learned to know the africander in one of his weak points--his impatience of discipline. i saw how he rebelled against what was the legitimate authority under which he should have submitted.--how different it became later in the war! as i write now nearly three years have passed since that night march, and if i compare it with the night trek, for instance, of the rd of february (of which i shall give an account later), it is well-nigh impossible to believe that the strong, obedient burgher of is the same man as the almost unbridled one of the end of . everything was in chaotic confusion. one would have imagined that the burghers stood under no orders whatever, and yet orders had been issued. they were openly disregarded. it had been ordered, for instance, that there should be no smoking, and yet all along the route--we were going from the rear to the van--little flashes of light could be seen of matches, with which the men lighted their pipes. nobody bothered his head about the question as to whether these lights could show our whereabouts to the enemy. then the men had been told to proceed in absolute silence, and yet there was not even an attempt to do so. besides a dreadful din which was raised by the drivers of the mules that were inspanned in the gun-carriages, the burghers conversed quite loudly, cracked jokes, and laughed in explosive guffaws--for all the world as if they were on some errand which involved no danger. in my immediate vicinity there was a young burgher of the name of adriaan venter--he was nicknamed _dapperman_ because of his gallant behaviour at rietfontein. well, this young fellow never wearied of saying funny things; and i heard him use now for the first time his favourite expression, "jij is laat" (you are too late). this expression was soon adopted by everybody in the field, and was used whenever anybody had missed what he had had in view. dapperman kept himself and all about him in the best of spirits from the beginning to the end of that night march, and it never entered his mind that scouts of the enemy might be a hundred yards from us. nothing struck me more than the entire thoughtlessness of the burghers. just after we had begun to march, the clouds lowered, and it became very dark. we could not see one another. the jokes of dapperman only told me that he was still near. then it began to rain, and the road became slippery. we progressed more and more slowly until at length we almost came to a standstill. this was caused through the difficulty which was encountered in taking the cannons through sand river. the road at the drift had become so slippery that it was next to impossible for the mules to stand. and meanwhile the darkness became thicker. i wondered whether i should be able to see my hand if i held it before my eyes. yes i could, so what had been said of darkness so dense that you could not see your hand before your eyes was not applicable here. still, it was so dark that you could not see the man you touched next you. how provoking our slow progress was. we went twenty yards, and then we halted for five or ten minutes. then off we went again, and came to a dead stop after we had progressed not more than twenty or twenty-five yards. what were they doing in front, we were wondering; and the answer came: "the guns can't get on." thus it went on until midnight. the general saw then that he could not proceed, and ordered us to stop. we halted just where we were on either side of the road we were travelling along. did the english know anything about us? i asked myself. there was nothing to prevent it. not only was it so dark that english scouts could have been moving about among us, but we had shown them where we were with our matches, and the noise we had made had revealed the direction of our march. what, thought i, if they sent a shower of shells on us as soon as it became light but this did not happen. the enemy had not yet recovered from what they had suffered at nicholson's nek, and a few days would elapse before a sortie from ladysmith was again undertaken. the morning broke dark and damp. clouds hung low in the sky and it looked like rain. this was not encouraging. nor was it encouraging when we saw how little we had got on in the night. we were not more than two or three miles from where we had begun. but we had to go on now--daylight or not, whether we were seen or not. the whole force came into motion. it was a beautiful sight to see the commandos together. i looked back from the van. the force was riding over a great level space. there were at least two thousand together. an insignificant number--but for us, the troops of two poor little republics, it was large. the clouds did not deceive us. we had hardly begun to march when several heavy showers fell, and the prospect of a wet day was not pleasant. but to the relief of all the weather cleared up before nine o'clock, and the beautiful spring day followed: one of those days of unclouded sky which are so rousing and vivifying in south africa. after a short morning trek we halted for breakfast, and then continued our march. and now it began to be interesting. a small body of harrismith burghers had been told off to ride some miles in advance, while the main body came on behind. nobody could know what might happen behind the ridges and kopjes which we were constantly approaching and passing. the utmost care was observed. we halted frequently until from time to time the reconnaissance of the country in front was satisfactorily completed. now and then we saw living objects in the distance, and we could not know, of course, whether they were not scouts of the enemy; but after marthinus potgieter had observed the ridge or kopje through his long telescope and declared that the figures were kaffir women, and after our scouts had passed without adventure, we knew that all was well, and went on. we arrived at the house of an english missionary about twelve o'clock, and commandant de villiers turned aside to see him. the missionary showed signs of anxiety, and seemed to fear that harm would be done to him. commandant de villiers assured him that nothing would happen, if he put a white flag on the gable of his house as a sign that he was a non-combatant. i accompanied the commandant, and enjoyed a cup of tea which the good wife of the missionary gave us. while we were drinking the tea i heard children's voices in another part of the house, and i was affected by them. a child always touches what is most tender in me. and here i remember that i was especially moved by the sharp contrast between those sweet children's voices and the harsh voices which i had heard during the last few days of men talking about nothing but the war. we hastened forward, and had scarcely reached the main body when we saw in the distance some of our scouts galloping back. field-cornet jan lyon thereupon set spurs to his horse, and dashed forward with a small body of burghers. soon we learned that, while a portion of our scouts were proceeding along a cutting near onderbroek spruit, they were fired upon by some irish fusiliers, who had concealed themselves behind huge boulders on the roadside. isaac du plessis was wounded in the thigh. the other portion of our advance party had gone over the hill, west of the road, and had fired on the irish fusiliers, with the result that they were driven off. isaac du plessis was my first case. i bandaged him as well as i could, and he was sent away for proper medical treatment. we passed by the spot where the incident had occurred, and i saw the corpse of a soldier lying on the roadside. he had been shot by our men from the hill. he lay on his back, and had been covered by our burghers with grass. how well i remember the emotion that passed through me when i saw there for the first time the corpse of a man killed in action. how many it would be my lot to see and--bury. nothing further happened, until we arrived late in the afternoon at a spot on the high ranges of hills between colenso and ladysmith, about three miles east of the main road. i went with two others over the range, and they pointed out to me the tents of the english garrison, on the left bank of the tugela, near the village of colenso. the view was grand. a vast plain lay stretched out before us, and through it the greatest river of natal was cutting its way, and swiftly descending to a series of rapids and falls into precipitous abysses. we stayed and looked upon the great scene until the fast falling shades of night warned us to return to the laager. soon we were wrapped in deep and restoring sleep, for we were very tired. chapter iii besiegers and besieged ladysmith was now completely surrounded. it was besieged on the north and east by the transvaal and on the west and south by the free state commandos. early on the morning after we had marched to the south--on nd november--field-cornet jan lyon went with a body of men to pieter's station, broke up the rails there, and took the telegraph clerk prisoner. while he was doing this the two guns which we had brought with us were being dragged up the range of hills between ladysmith and colenso. one of them was put on the summit of a pointed hill a little south of platrand (cæsar's hill),--the other on the heights north of colenso. i was present when commandant de villiers drew the latter up the precipitous slopes. there were huge boulders, as high as the wheels of a waggon, thickly strewn on the hillside, and over them the krupp had to go. a strong span of oxen was put before the gun, and one could hear the creaking of the yokes as the oxen strained to draw the gun up, but as it became steeper and steeper it soon appeared that even the south-african ox had a task which it could not do. the wheels of the gun-carriage got jammed between the boulders and remained immovable. then the burghers took the work in hand, and what ox-power could not do, human muscles accomplished. some of the men seized the yokes and the _trektouw_,[ ] and others put their shoulders to the wheel, and up flew the gun. it was not long before the krupp made itself heard. to the english fort near colenso it sent a few shells--but the garrison there had fled. [footnote : chain to which the yokes are attached.] the winburg commando was encamped a little more to the north-east than we were, and had an early surprise. while they were engaged in broiling meat for breakfast there were heard in sharp succession the reports of guns, and immediately several shells fell right in their midst. it is needless to say that there was a confused scramble in search of cover; but fortunately nobody was hurt. the enemy, having given an exhibition of their gun practice, retired immediately to ladysmith. the next day general a. p. cronje sent men chosen from all the commandos to take a ridge south-west of ladysmith, not far from the house of mr. willem bester, in order to oppose the enemy, who had made a sortie from ladysmith in considerable numbers, on the road leading to colenso. from this ridge the burghers opened a steady fire on the approaching english, who were also subjected to a heavy and continuous bombardment. this went on for a considerable time, and then a number of mounted troops charged the ridge, but were repulsed. after that others rode into a donga to the west of our positions, and leaving their horses in it, emerged with the object of taking possession of a low reef of rock between themselves and us. but here, too, they were unsuccessful. our men opened such a withering fire on them that they were obliged to abandon their design. at this moment about of the enemy gained possession of a hill to the south with the object of surrounding us by the east. sixty winburg and harrismith burghers seeing this, charged them; but the bullets of the english fell so thickly on them that forty of them turned back, so that only twenty reached the top. there, however, they found themselves in such a terrific fire that they could do nothing, and were obliged to seek cover behind large boulders. such was the state of things when our krupp on the pointed hill sent a well-aimed shell among the english, and at once changed matters. the shell was followed without delay by another, and when the fourth came the enemy was compelled to retire. then it was our opportunity. the twenty burghers emerged from their hiding-places and fired upon the retiring english, and the hill was quickly cleared. while this was going on i was with the harrismith commando, which was madly galloping as a reinforcement to the fight. we had to pass a spot where shots occasionally fell, and as we raced along there, i heard for the first time in my life the whiz of a passing bullet. we went on, and arrived on the hill. but all was just then over, and we could only see the english retreating to ladysmith. twice or thrice yet they fired shrapnels at us, and again i had a first experience. it was of the sound, sharp and shrill, of a shrapnel that went over our heads. i don't know in what other words it can be described. what a tyranny fear is! at the foot of the hill i saw a young burgher, utterly overpowered by it, lying behind a large stone and not daring to raise his head. "are you wounded?" somebody asked him. "no," answered the terror-stricken youth, and pressed still closer to the stone. i met mr. roux here again, and assisted him to bandage the burgher gibson, who had been badly wounded in the leg. two others also were wounded. nothing further happened now, and in the evening we were in our little field tents again. during the following three days there was an armistice in order to enable the enemy to get their women, children, and non-combatants out of ladysmith into the intombi camp, between the town and bulwana. on sunday, the th of november, our commando went to pieter's station. i had preached early in the morning for the burghers of vrede; and now, after we had inspected the station, we gathered under a great camel tree, and had a most pleasant service. just before the service some burghers slipped away unobserved and sped to colenso. arrived there, they helped themselves to what they fancied they needed in the shops. while they were thus engaged, an armoured train came from chieveley, and began to fire on them. we were lying unconcerned in the shadow of the great camel tree, when commandant de villiers got the report that some burghers were hemmed in at colenso. he immediately gave orders that the horses should be saddled and rode thither, but we heard on the way that the culprits had, by the skin of their teeth, made their escape under a shower of bullets. when we were returning to our laager, we met kaffirs who had fled from ladysmith. they drew a terrible picture of the state of the town. they told us that there were still unburied soldiers there, and that a bad smell pervaded the town. women and children too had to endure great suffering, and were obliged to hide in holes which had been scooped out in the river's bank. we did not know then that we had to take kaffir reports with a grain of salt. towards the th of november the free state laagers lay around ladysmith in this order: near the railway line to the east of smith's crossing was the laager of the kroonstad commando. to the west of the line, general prinsloo had fixed his headquarters; and thence round to the south stood in succession the laagers of the bethlehem, vrede, heilbron, harrismith, and winburg commandos. each commandant had one or two guns. commandant de villiers had charge of two. for these he built forts on the hill upon which the english were shelled in the fight of the rd of november. this hill lay to the west of mr. bester's house. we harrismith burghers pitched our camp at several places, but at last we fixed it permanently at the south-west of this hill. from the forts on the top of the hill you can see close at hand in the direction of ladysmith the neutral kopje. right before you in the depth you see the house of mr. bester, and there on the other side of the kloof rises platrand, or cæsar's hill, on which the english are making forts and sangars. every now and then you see a cloud of smoke from our cannon-forts, and a krupp sends a shell on platrand, to which the english with splendid aim promptly reply. from every side and every schanz the forts of the english were bombarded. the big gun of the transvaalers on bulwana, to which the british gave the name of long tom, was especially active, and sent its great shells regularly every day into the town. and now we were living in the constant expectation that ladysmith would speedily fall into our hands. our expectations were also constantly strengthened by kaffir reports. there was, the kaffirs told us, very little food in the town, and the distress was great. week after week, therefore, we were expecting that ladysmith would capitulate, but week after week ladysmith held out. on the th of november another fight took place. the english made a sortie to the south-west of the town, and attacked a position where there were eighty men of the vrede commando. they opened a heavy cannonade on the rand and made it almost untenable for the burghers there. then our guns came to the rescue. the two harrismith krupps fired on the rear of the enemy. others assisted, and everything was managed so effectively that the english had to retire precipitously. a man came to our laager in the evening and told us that he was in the vrede position while it was being shelled. it had been terrible, he said. one poor fellow, a young burgher of the name of de jager, had been hit in four places, while lying behind a boulder, by a shrapnel--three bullets had struck him in the shoulders and one in the head, and he had died immediately. two others were slightly wounded. our laager had not been out of danger. a piece of a shell had fallen in it. afterwards this happened frequently. bits of missiles sent from platrand to the cannon-forts above now and again came into our camp, to the great amusement of those who did not happen to be in danger at the moment. how funny it was to see the men near the spot scramble to cover when the danger was past. about this time the bethlehem commando made a large capture of cattle. some coolies were taken prisoners on the occasion. everybody naturally besieged the prisoners to hear something about ladysmith. the wily indians took in the situation at once, and told us what they knew would be agreeable to us. they "spoke comfortably to our hearts," and depicted the condition of the town in the most appalling colours. just at this time too--on the th of november--commandant-general joubert sent, under the command of general l. botha, transvaalers and free staters to estcourt. some of them came into action with an armoured train near chieveley. from the train a vigorous fire was opened on the transvaalers, who replied with cannon and rifle. some free state burghers were in advance and attempted to break up the railway. but as they had no tools to do this with, they could not, and instead raised the rails on one side and placed big stones underneath. the train then steamed back and two trucks were derailed. immediately, under a heavy fire from us, the english set to work to remove the stones, and then the engine went backwards and forwards and came with every forward motion into collision with the trucks. it succeeded soon in removing the impediment, and sped away with the trucks which had not been derailed. fifty-six troops and three civilians were taken prisoners. among these was mr. winston churchill, who escaped later in a very clever manner from the model school at pretoria, in which he was being kept confined as a prisoner of war. we heard of this affair with the armoured train while we were chatting in very rainy weather in the tent of commandant de villiers. it was dripping wet outside and the laager had been converted into a perfect puddle of mud by hundreds of feet. general j. b. wessels and commandant theunissen of the winburg commando were there on a visit. we were talking about the armoured train, and presently general wessels related that a man had been taken prisoner the day before by the winburg burghers. this man had been found in a kaffir hut, and had with him a basket of pigeons, which he had brought from maritzburg to smuggle into ladysmith. but as dapperman said, "_he was too late._" it did rain that day! and in the evening a steady downpour set in. i sympathised with the sentries and outposts, who had to take duty on the top and the slopes of the hill. what a cheerless thing it was, i thought, to sit through the livelong dripping night with no shelter, and to gaze into the darkness. i can give no account of the adventures of the expedition which general joubert sent to estcourt, as i did not accompany it. i can only say that the burghers composing it did not remain long south of the tugela, and were obliged by great numbers of troops to return to ladysmith. general joubert, however, said that he had succeeded in his object of preventing all the english troops from massing on the western borders of the free state. shortly before the expedition was sent to estcourt, the portions of the several commandos which had been left on the drakensberg were ordered to descend into natal and join the besiegers of ladysmith. they arrived in due time, and brought all the waggons with them. we had after that the convenience of a laager. tents of every shape and size soon sprang up everywhere between the great waggons, and nobody who was not actually on duty needed to have any apprehension with regard to heat, or cold, or wet. there were indeed several who had raised their voices against the bringing down of the waggons, and had said that they would prove to be an encumbrance, in case a hasty retreat became necessary, but the majority of the burghers were bent upon taking it easy--even in the war--and demanded that the waggons should be brought down. as far as i was concerned, though i did not approve of the presence of the waggons, it was a personal pleasure to have a large square tent with a table in it. writing on a table was a decided improvement to writing on a book, or a pad, on one's knees, or on the ground. that tent in which i wrote!--how i remember it, while i am in cape town writing my book over again. the time passed swiftly, though it dragged from moment to moment. this was one of the first things that struck me in the war. i would wake in the morning and feel the duty of the day lying on me, as a burden which could not be lifted. but when the shadows of night had fallen i found that the burden had been borne. it often seemed as if the future lay far beyond my reach, but after an hour, a day, a month was past, the hours seemed to be seconds, the days hours, and the months weeks. the burghers were terribly bored in the laager? why? they wanted nothing. the government provided meat, bread (in the shape of meal), coffee, sugar, potatoes,--sometimes tobacco;--we even lived in luxury, for our wives sent us fruit and vegetables, cake and sweets. why, then, did the burghers feel bored in the laager? the reason is that the africander is not a soldier, who can take kindly to camp or barrack life. the boer detests a confined life, and whenever he is away from the open plain, and the free breezes of heaven, he is miserable. thus it was that every burgher now longed to be back on his farm. how i pitied the commandant! he was continually besieged by burghers asking leave to go home. they asked for leave on the slightest pretexts, or with no pretext whatever; for they would give as a reason for leave of absence the work which had to be done on the farms. the women looked after that as well as, and in many cases better than, the men themselves had done. no, in the majority of cases there was no sound excuse to justify a request for leave. it was simply because they could not stand the confinement of the life in a laager. towards the end of the third week in november, one of the heavy guns of the transvaal--another long tom--was brought into the harrismith laager in order to be placed on the hill where our two guns stood. what a monster it was! a wooden platform of thick deal beams was constructed in the fort, and long tom was drawn into position during the night. on the following morning it fired on the forts at platrand (cæsar's hill), and the terrific recoil splintered the stout beams of the platform as if they had been thin lathes. the platform had to be rebuilt and rendered stronger. while we were doing this, the english were not idle. they were busy putting a heavy gun on platrand into position; and on the following day they sent shell after shell, which pulverised the rocks and ploughed the ground, but which happily did no injury to long tom. on sunday, th november, i visited the bethlehem laager with the intention of holding divine service there. on arriving, i found everything in a state of hurry and bustle. here someone was roasting coffee, there another was shoeing his horse, yonder a third was greasing the axles of his waggon. the cause of all this activity was that the commando had been ordered to the western border by the war commission, and that they were preparing to start. i succeeded in my intention of addressing the burghers, and took as my text the comforting words of st. paul: "be of good cheer: for i trust in god, that it shall be even as it was told me." a fortnight afterwards, acting-commandant christian de wet was appointed general, and likewise ordered to the western border. his achievement at nicholson's nek had fixed the attention of the war commission on him, and he was now called to take upon himself the rank and important duties of a general. i had no suspicion then that christian de wet had begun the career which would make him famous throughout south africa; nay, throughout the world! thus far we had busied ourselves exclusively with the enemy hemmed in at ladysmith; but on the th of november the boers were also threatened from the south of the tugela. on that day a considerable number of troops advanced from the direction of chieveley, and opened a heavy fire on the boer positions north of the river, with about twelve guns. the boers replied, and our shells fell upon the british until they were forced to retire. platrand! what enchantment hung over that hill! from the first moment that we had come south of ladysmith, it had been the talk of everyone that the hill should be taken; and about a week after the investment of the town, commandant de villiers had actually made a night march with the object of making an assault on it; but general joubert had recalled him before he could begin the attack. since then the cry had ever been: "the hill must be taken!" at last, wearied of the continual nagging, the combined war council of the transvaal and the orange free state decided that men should storm the hill during the night of the th- th of november. many considered the decision unwise. they were of opinion that the hill could not be taken without great loss of life, and that it was doubtful, after it was taken, whether it could be held. nobody, however, opposed, and preparations were made to set out at two o'clock on the th of november. something, however, intervened. at ten o'clock in the evening some transvaal officers entered the tent of commandant de villiers, and pointed out that there was no shelter for the storming party, and that the dongas at the foot of the hill, instead of affording shelter, would prove disadvantageous to us in case we were forced to retire. one officer after another entered the tent until there were fifteen together, and all were opposed to the project of storming the place. at one o'clock they had convinced one another that platrand could not be taken, and took it upon themselves to disobey the orders of the council of war, and so far from storming platrand at two o'clock, everyone was sound asleep in his bed at that hour. the evil day was postponed. on th december my son charlie, aged , arrived in the laager. i had left him behind at harrismith to go to school, but it was impossible to keep him there, and he had come to the laager at the first opportunity, after receiving my consent. when he had been with me but a short while he got a lee-metford from his friend jan cilliers, which had been taken at dundee. at this time it became clearer and clearer that some event or other might with certainty be expected from the south. the british commander-in-chief in natal, general buller, had been there for some weeks, and had had plenty of time to prepare himself. there was no doubt that he had been busy, for more and more troops had come from durban, until the camps at chieveley had grown to amazingly large proportions. everyone then was expecting that something was going to happen soon. but in the meanwhile something took place closer to us, which filled us with shame and indignation. in the night of the th- th of december a number of english climbed lombard's kop, where the heavy gun of the transvaalers was. they approached the fort in the greatest silence, but the picquet became aware of their approach and cried, "werda?" someone answered in good dutch, "don't shoot. we are the modderspruit burghers." this satisfied the picquet, and the next moment the enemy was in the fort. our men were taken by surprise, but they fired notwithstanding, and a few english were wounded. the few men in the fort were now forced to yield, and retreated before overwhelming odds. then the british damaged long tom so seriously that it could not be used again for fifteen days. they also partially destroyed a french quick-firing gun and captured a maxim. that same night another party of english damaged the railway bridge at waschbank (near dundee) in such a manner as to stop the running of trains for some days. these two exploits of the english roused a feeling of dissatisfaction in the minds of the burghers. they considered it a dishonour to us, and although there were rumours of treachery, the general opinion was that it was rather the carelessness and want of vigilance on our side that was to blame. everyone, on the contrary, meted out unlimited praise to the english, and said that they had done a gallant thing. two days after it was sunday, and i held divine services in different places, according to my custom. on the same day, the free staters captured a kaffir, who had brought letters, sewn under the lining of his sleeve, out of ladysmith. those letters! how thoughtlessly they were read. who cared that they were the utterances of the heart, even though the heart of an enemy? who, whilst reading them, asked of himself: "what would i desire the enemy to do, if a letter of mine should fall into their hands?" these letters were from soldiers and civilians, mostly from husband to wife, or from wife to husband. they bore witness to a very miserable state of things in ladysmith. one woman wrote that she lacked the common necessaries of life; another that she went barefoot. besides private letters there was a report announcing that the troops were reduced to half rations, and that many of them were sick; and also that an unknown disease had broken out amongst the cattle. every day something happened, and the time passed rapidly. was it not because there was always something to keep us busy? yes, a thousand acts were crowded into each day. the heart was filled with ever-changing emotions by the various occurrences of each day. and one's mind was not occupied by the war only. no! one's thoughts were drawn away irresistibly by the blue expanse overhead, and by the wondrous landscape around, stretching away to the finest horizons on earth. we lived in god's free nature, and as we came nearer to her great heart throbbing in the grey veld and the blue mountain, those of us who could felt ourselves borne away by a delicious but withal terrible power. how glorious, too, were the evenings! how soothing was their deep silence after the exhausting, bustling summer's day! and then there was the breath of air from the east, which softly fanned the cheek, and calmed and laid to rest the turbulent passions that rent the breast. i used to sit of an evening beneath the camel thorn-tree, under which commandant de villiers had pitched his tent, and gaze into the far west. there lay spion kop, tinted pink by the last rays of the setting sun. far beyond rose the drakensberg mountains with their rugged, dizzy crags, scored and scarred, already veiled in the shadows of night. what a thrill quivered through me when i presently looked up from that dark mass and saw the glittering gold, which had been laid for a moment on the clouds; or when, after the sun had set, turning, i beheld in the east the wonderful maze of colour in the sky. the soft pink merged into almost black purple, and this again, as if in need of support, rested on the blue black rock foundation of the earth. i forgot in such moments that we were at war. i was deaf to the discordant sounds of the strife--the bursting of shells, and the whiz of bullets. it was as if i heard god speaking in the still small voice. can i ever forget those evenings? i am living them over again. i still gaze into that distant west, and seem to see the unseen in that wonderful vision: god, the incomprehensible, the unsearchable. i see how he paints every evening a new picture on the mountains and on the clouds. but he hides himself in his picture. it is the robe, indeed, in which he reveals himself, but it is only the border, as isaiah says, the border of his robe: only the hem of his garment, and it--fills the temple! chapter iv general buller's first great attempt to break through since the beginning of november we had heard, as i have already said, that sir redvers buller had landed at cape town, and that he was in supreme command of the troops in natal. we also knew that he was busy preparing himself for a grand attack upon our forces around ladysmith, in order thus to relieve sir george white there. towards the end of november general joubert received reports every day of how matters were proceeding south of the tugela. it was reported to him that large numbers of troops were continually arriving from durban, and were occupying immense camps at chieveley. now, as it was impossible to know exactly where general buller would try to break through, it was necessary to place commandos up and down the tugela, with colenso as a centre. this was done. various transvaal commandos took possession of the ridges opposite colenso, and others were sent to the east of the railway across the river to klangwane, a wooded hill a few miles east of the village, while general a. p. cronje with from to men trekked about twelve miles to the west. i will here mention the names of the transvaal commandos that occupied the ridges opposite colenso, because it was by them that the attack of general buller was repulsed. they consisted, to begin with the most easterly wing, of a portion of the krugersdorp commando; next to them were in succession westward the burghers of heidelberg, boksburg, johannesburg, the swazieland police; the ermelo burghers and the zoutpansberg commando on the wing farthest west. these men worked night and day digging trenches and throwing up earthworks. they did not make these works on the top of the mountain range, where one would have expected them to, but on low ridges close to the river. the enemy would thus, in case they attacked, first bombard the wrong places, and the troops would approach to within a very short distance of the position, and be subjected to a severe rifle fire, before they knew from whence they were being fired on. the first days of december passed by, and although there was no attack, there were, however, signs every day to show that the english were making preparations, and all held themselves in readiness. two or three days before the th of december one of the transvaal gunners, an englishman, deserted, and as there was reason to fear that he might acquaint the enemy with the preparations that had been made to repulse an attack, general louis botha changed the positions of the guns and also made the men dig other trenches and throw up new earthworks. these trenches were dug on the level ground between the ridges i have mentioned above and the river. if the former trenches were made where the enemy would not expect them, this was still the case with the new ones which were now made, as the result proved. on the th of december commandant de villiers rode in the direction of colenso to see if he could discover any new developments in the preparations of the enemy. he came to the top of the high hill between colenso and the boer laagers around ladysmith, and saw from there that the british troops were approaching nearer and nearer to the village. he computed them at about , . "to-morrow," he said, on his return to the laager, "there will certainly be a battle"; and he asked me if i wished to go to the hill on the following day, in order to see what might take place. i answered that i would like to go. early on the following morning, december th, we heard the roar of the great naval guns. commandant de villiers had not been mistaken. the battle had commenced. i had my horse saddled and rode to the hill with a few burghers. there lay the tiny hamlet of colenso about five thousand yards from where we stood, and down below with great curves the majestic tugela flowed onward, calmly and placidly. but there was no calm on its banks. the ground shook with the thunder and reverberation of the great naval guns. everywhere, on both sides of the river, upon boer and briton, the shells burst and the shrapnels exploded. far away on the horizon seven or eight miles from us, a little to the west of the railway, i saw the great camps, looking like plantations of _black-wattle_ trees, from which the troops had marched that morning. about two miles on this side of the camps, the batteries of british field-guns stood in an irregular semicircle, and in front of these the whole plain, for about three miles to the west of the railway and a mile and a half to the east of it, was covered with troops; not in compact masses, but widely scattered. i also saw ambulance waggons riding to and fro. when the cannons fired, no volumes of smoke rose in the air as was the case with our krupps, so if one looked for smoke as a sign that a gun was fired, one would never know that a shell had been despatched. but even in the broad glare of the day you could constantly see a small flash, and presently a terrific crash somewhere on our positions would proclaim that a great naval gun had been fired. our projectiles too were aimed at the troops and guns down in the plain. i could continually see our shrapnels exploding there. and the tiny shells of our maxim-nordenfeldts created havoc among the troops; while thousands of little clouds of dust, like those which rise when the first great raindrops of a thunderstorm fall on a dusty road, showed where the mauser bullets fell. the scene constantly changed. what also struck me was, that the hundreds of small objects which i saw down there were continually appearing and disappearing. i could not at first understand what this meant; but i soon perceived that when the objects seemed to rise from nowhere it meant that the soldiers were making some dash or other to a certain spot, and when they disappeared it meant that they were forced to lie down because of a destructive hail of bullets which was poured upon them. this was the state of affairs when i reached the top of the hill. i must now relate something of what had taken place up to that moment. general buller had ordered four brigades of troops early that morning to make an attack on us, supported by great naval and other cannon, with the purpose of breaking through our lines and forcing a way to ladysmith. the troops had hardly commenced their advance before general botha perceived it, and ordered that all the men's horses without exception should be taken away from the positions. he also issued a strict command that no one should fire a shot before he gave the signal by the firing of a cannon from one of the ridges behind the burghers. our burghers lay behind their schanzes and awaited the enemy. it was hardly daylight when they saw the english advance--covering a breadth of nearly eight miles--the one wing about four miles west of colenso, and the other about three miles to the east. presently the british cannon opened a tremendous fire on the ridges behind the burghers and the shrapnel burst everywhere with terrific sound. the noise was deafening, but our men did not answer. the english advanced, the flanks approaching nearer and nearer to the centre, and there were some of our officers who sent word to general botha, beseeching him to give the order to fire. no. he let the english come nearer and nearer. not a boer could they see. nearer and nearer the troops advanced. they became over confident. the boers had certainly fled and left the road to ladysmith open. suddenly general botha gave the command. the cannon thundered forth the signal, and a fearful storm of lead fell upon the over-confident soldiers. they had not expected it, and the shock was terrible. nevertheless they advanced, and continued pressing forward, only to be mown down by the withering fire of our mausers. in the meanwhile they had discovered where our burghers were, and a fierce cannonade was directed on them, which, however, wonderful to relate, did hardly any damage. at last the troops ceased to advance on the west wing. it was then that i arrived on the hill. but in the centre attempts were still being made to break through, and in endeavouring to do this, they approached so near to the boer positions, a little to the east of the railway line, that they could fire on the bodyguard of general botha and on the krugersdorp commando from a distance of not more than eight hundred yards. our men opened a terrible rifle fire on the gunners, and in a moment all was quiet. not a single cannon there fired another shot. the english perceived that they had brought twelve guns to a spot from whence they could not get them away again. notwithstanding this they rushed in to save the guns. from the hill above i saw how the matter went, and i do not think that a more heroic deed was done in the whole war than the rush of the english to save those guns. it was a magnificent sight! team after team of horses i saw galloping in the same direction. i saw how mercilessly they were mown down by the bullets of our mausers and the shells of our maxim-nordenfeldts. i saw how they persevered in their efforts, till at last they ceased their attempts. i could not, at the moment, understand what it all meant, and thought that the english were trying to take a position, whence they could rush across the bridge, and it was only in the evening that i heard that this splendid gallantry had been displayed in order to save the guns. two of the twelve guns were rescued, but the english could not get away the rest. general botha made this impossible when he sent men through the river to fetch them. these men waded the stream breast high, and took positions so near the guns that it became absolutely impossible for the british to make any further attempts, and ten of the twelve guns fell into our hands together with a number of soldiers who were there. general botha had been the soul of everything in this great battle. he went from position to position encouraging his brave transvaalers. here he would direct their fire, and there he would send reinforcements. everything was controlled by him. some days later i had a conversation with colonel de villebois, who had also been present at the battle. he said to me: "general botha is a true general. i saw this during the battle of colenso. if i discovered a weak point in the boer positions, general botha had perceived it before me, and was already busy strengthening it. he is a true general." shortly after midday all was over. sir redvers buller commanded that the troops should retire. his plan had been a great one, his troops had fought bravely, but they had failed, failed splendidly. the boers, on the other hand, had repulsed the terrible attack. but they did not ascribe it to their own efforts; no. general botha telegraphed to his government that evening: "the god of our fathers has given us a brilliant victory." our loss was, incredible as it may seem, seven killed, of whom one was drowned, and twenty wounded. there had not been more than men in the positions from whence the british had been repulsed! on the following day dingaan's day was celebrated in all the laagers with excessive joy, as might be expected. the africander nation perceived a new proof of god's protecting hand in what had happened on the previous day, and the future seemed bright. on monday, the th, i left for my home, in order to celebrate christmas and new year with my family. i remained at harrismith till the th of january . chapter v platrand on friday afternoon, the th of january , i was back in the laager of commandant de villiers once more. in the evening i sent a letter to my wife in which _inter alia_ these words appeared: "and now i have no time to write anything more, but, as the post leaves to-morrow, i wish you to know as soon as possible of my safe arrival." i wrote nothing that could cause uneasiness, and yet there was much that would have made her anxious if i had written about it. would this letter be the last i should write her? i asked of myself; for we were on the eve of attacking platrand (waggon hill). as i have said in a former chapter, it had from time to time been insisted on that platrand, as being the key to ladysmith, must be taken. this had constantly been insisted on. general prinsloo had declared that the hill ought to be taken, and that he could do it with men. president steyn had also telegraphed, saying that it was desirable to have platrand in our possession. not a day passed without regret being expressed that the rand had not been taken when, on former occasions, attempts had been partially made, and now more than ever it was thought that this should be done. this string had been so continuously harped upon that the combined war councils of the transvaal and free state once more decided that an attempt to gain possession of platrand should be made. after i had held evening service for the first time since my return, commandant de villiers made known to the burghers that men from every commando would proceed to the hill that same night. this famous hill, named waggon hill by the english, lies about three miles south of ladysmith, between the residence of mr. willem bester and the town. it runs from east to west. the ascent is very steep and its slopes are partially covered with mimosa. on the summit the hill is level, and round about its crest runs a cornice, to use an architectural term, of great rocks, which we call a "krantz" in the africander language. the british forts were built immediately above this "krantz." the idea was that about men should make the attack. it was decided that the free staters should scale the rand from the west and south-west, and the transvaalers from the south-west and south sides. the free staters were drawn from the kroonstad, heilbron, harrismith and winburg commandos; and the transvaalers from the commandos of vryheid, utrecht, wakkerstroom, standerton, and heidelberg. the understanding was, that, after the storming party had taken the hill, reinforcements would come from all sides to support them, and thus carry out the attack. at about ten o'clock we, harrismith burghers, left the laager, in order to climb the hill at half-past two, in accordance with the arrangement that had been made. we soon reached the neutral hill. here we halted a while, and those who could slept till one o'clock on saturday morning, the th of january . from there the burghers proceeded on foot. it was very dark, and all was still as death. we walked forward slowly and spoke only in whispers; and yet our progress was not so silent but that we feared we should be heard. in the silence of the night, the slightest rustle of tree or shrub sounded loud in our ears, and the thud of our feet on the loose stones seemed to me like the tramp of a troop of horses. the enemy, thought i, would certainly become aware of our approach long before we could even begin to climb the hill. but it seems after all that i was mistaken, and that the sentry did not discover us until we had approached very close. at three o'clock we reached the deep dongas at the foot of the hill, and the foremost men passed through. in about twenty minutes we had climbed almost two-thirds of the hill, when we heard a beautiful voice ringing out on the morning air: "halt! who goes there?" no answer came from us. we continued climbing. a moment passed, and then the silence was broken by the crash of a volley. then another and another. everywhere above in front of us the flashes of the rifles leapt forth into the darkness, and the sharp reports followed in such swift succession as to give the impression of maxims firing. all of a sudden i saw a great long jet of flame, and instantly the thunder of a cannon broke upon the startled air, and presently behind us i could hear the shrapnel bullets falling on the ground. then many of those who had not yet begun to climb the hill turned and fled; but others rushed upwards and rapidly approached the cornice of rocks whence the heavy firing issued. silence was now unnecessary; and voices were heard everywhere encouraging the men. field-cornet lyon and zacharias de jager in particular were of great assistance to the commandant; and one constantly heard, "come along, burghers! come along! forward!" at half-past three we reached the reef of rocks and boulders, and presently i heard that two burghers had already been wounded, while another lay motionless, but it was as yet too dark to see who it was. it soon transpired that it was assistant field-cornet jan van wijk. before long it became light, and some of the burghers charged the forts that were just above the ledge of rocks. they overpowered the soldiers there, and took them prisoners, but were forced to fall back to the escarpment of rocks immediately, on account of the heavy fire directed on them from the other forts. and now the roar of the cannons and rifles became terrific. this was especially the case with the ceaseless rattle of small arms. one could with difficulty distinguish separate reports. all sounded together like one continuous roar, and awoke an echo from the neutral hill that sounded like the surging of a mighty wind. we found ourselves under a cross cannon-fire. the shells from one of our guns flew over our heads and exploded just in front of us on the forts, so that we were often in fear of being struck by our own shells; and the projectiles of the english were hurled in an opposite direction on our cannon-forts and on the burghers on neutral hill. gradually we began to see in what a terrible position we were. we found that we were a mere handful. of all the free staters who had been ordered to scale the hill there, only about harrismith men, heilbroners, and a few of the kroonstad commando, had obeyed the order. the arrangement had not been carried out. as we learned afterwards, the winburgers had remained behind in a ridge at the foot of the hill, and the rest were all crowded behind neutral hill, while most of the kroonstad burghers had not even got as far as that. of course we did not fully know then how matters stood, and expected that reinforcements would come later on, which was impossible while daylight lasted, for every approach to our position was exposed to a terrible fire from above. it set us, however, somewhat at ease to know that there were burghers behind the neutral hill. they guarded our rear and left flank, and would beat back reinforcements attacking us there. how terrible the firing was! it never ceased for a moment, for if the burghers did not rush out, from time to time, to assail the forts, the english charged us. this alternate charging of each other was taking place every now and then, and it was during these attacks that the pick of our men fell. whenever a sangar was attacked a destructive fire was directed on our men, and then some gallant fellows would always remain behind struck down. in this manner field-cornet celliers of heilbron, and of the harrismith commando: kootze odendaal, marthinus potgieter, gert wessels, zacharias de jager, jacob de villiers, and piet minny, were killed; and hermanus wessels and others mortally wounded. they were mostly hit in the head, for the english as well as the boers were on the watch, and whenever anyone put out his head from behind a stone or a fort, he was immediately fired at. it was a fearful day--a day that no one who was there will ever forget. the heat too was unbearable. the sun shot down his pitiless rays upon us, and the higher he rose the hotter it became. it was terrible to see the dead lying uncovered in the scorching rays; and our poor wounded suffered indescribable tortures from thirst. how glad i was that i could do something for the wounded. i bandaged those within reach. i also rendered the first help to the british wounded; one tommy said to me, after i had bandaged him: "i feel easier now." and a sergeant of the imperial light horse, who had discovered that i was a minister, remarked: "you are preaching a good sermon to-day." how the wounded suffered from thirst! and there was nothing to give them--only a little whisky which i had got from an english officer who had been taken prisoner. i gave a little of that, only a few drops, to every wounded man. not only the wounded--all of us, suffered from thirst. long before midday there was not a drop of water left in our flasks. so intolerable was the thirst, that there were burghers who went down to the dongas below in search of water, where there was none, and where they knew that almost certain death awaited them. how slowly too the time dragged! "what o'clock is it?" someone asked. it was then only ten o'clock, and it seemed as if we had been fighting more than a day, for up to that moment the firing had continued unabated; and the neutral hill still sent back to us the echo of the firing--the echo as of a mighty soughing. twelve o'clock passed, one o'clock, two o'clock--and still the fire was kept up; and still the burning rays of the sun were scorching us. clouds! but they threw no shadow over us. everywhere small patches of shade checkered the hills and valleys; but they seemed to avoid us. but a black mass of cloud is rising in the west, and we know now that everything will soon be wrapped in shadow. nearer and nearer to the zenith the clouds are rising. what is that deep rumbling in the distance? thunder! nearer and nearer it sounds, and presently we hear it overhead above the din of the musketry and the boom of the cannon. how insignificant the crash of the cannons sounds now. it is as the crackle of fireworks when compared with the mighty voice of god! we got more than shadow from the clouds. at five o'clock great drops splash on the rocks. presently the rain fell in torrents, and i could wash the blood of the wounded from my hands in it. it was now, just when the rain was descending in sheets of water and the thunder-claps were shaking the hill, that the enemy redoubled their efforts to drive us off the ledge, and our men had to do their utmost to repel the determined onslaught. had they been driven down to the plain below, every burgher fleeing for his life would have formed a target for the enemy. the fight was now fiercer than at any time during the day. it is fearful to hear the roar of the thunder up above, and the crash of the rifles below. but the enemy did not succeed in driving us off. we remained there two and a half hours longer. meanwhile we had been able to quench our thirsts. we had made folds in our mackintoshes in which we caught the rain, and then sucked it up. streams of water too dashed down through the rocks, and we drank our fill. these streams of water came from the forts a few yards above us, and were red in colour. was it red earth, or was it the blood of friend and foe that coloured the water? whatever the cause, we were so thirsty that nothing would have kept us from drinking. after the english had done their utmost to drive us from the hill, and been baffled in their attempts, they returned to their forts, and the firing subsided for a short time. it was quieter now than it had been during the whole day, and the burghers had time to think how wet they had got. those who had no overcoats were drenched to the skin, and many who an hour before did not know where to find shelter from the heat, could now scarcely endure the cold. a keen wind, too, blew on our damp clothes, and strong men stood shivering in the biting breeze. it was now asked, "where is field-cornet jan lyon?" commandant de villiers had known for more than an hour that that brave man had fallen; but he spoke to no one about it, for fear that the burghers should be discouraged. it could not, however, remain a secret. soon everyone knew what had happened, and every countenance fell. at last the sun set, and as it was clear to commandant de villiers that no reinforcements would come, and as he had already lost at least a third of his men, killed and wounded, he saw that it was impossible to remain there. he therefore told me that he would continue there a little while longer and withdraw when it became dark. this took place at half-past seven. we had been on the hill for sixteen hours under a most severe fire, and now we retired; but we were not driven off by the devons with levelled bayonets as i have read in an english book. we were not driven off the hill. we held it as long as it was light, and when twilight fell, commandant de villiers considered it useless to remain there. he stopped there till the last man had gone, then fired some shots, not, however, at devons advancing with fixed bayonets, but in the air, in order to make the english think that we were still all in our positions. we then tramped through the water, till we reached our horses, and then rode to the laager, depressed in spirits, for we had left very dear ones behind us. of the harrismith commando there were killed and wounded; heilbron, killed and wounded; kroonstad, killed and wounded; winburg, wounded. altogether killed and wounded. including the transvaalers, we had lost killed and wounded. i can give no description of how the transvaalers had fared, as i was not on their side of the hill; but there was the same lack of co-operation amongst them. only the men of one commando had scaled the hill, and they, too, had to retire for want of support. where were the who had been ordered to take the hill? shamefully and criminally had they left their comrades in the lurch. in the highest circles, too, there was great mismanagement. one of the long toms, which had to take an important part in the battle, had three charges! another gun, too, should have been posted at a certain spot; but it never turned up. one felt embittered on hearing of such disgraceful mismanagement. the next morning dawned, and inexpressible emotion surged through me when in a moment i lived again through the events of the preceding day. i thought of jan lyon and the other brave fellows who had fallen; and when i knew that i should see them no more, my heart became as lead within me. it was a beautiful morning after the storm. the sun rose in glittering splendour over the refreshed earth; and soulless nature smiled regardless of the grief which tore the heart. it seemed as if the heat and the burden of the day could not be borne; but it had to be borne! in answer to a request from commandant de villiers, colonel ian hamilton had sent him a few lines giving us permission to fetch our killed and wounded. i accompanied a party of twelve, who went for that purpose. our dead were brought down from the hill by soldiers and laid in a row,--nineteen dead! we placed our dead in a waggon, and conveyed them to the laager. the heilbron commando buried their own dead. zacharias de jager, marthinus potgieter, and jacob de villiers were taken to harrismith, and there laid to rest. the other burghers, with their field-cornet jan lyon at the head, were buried in separate graves, alongside of one another, about a mile from the laager. it was my sad duty to address the men. i could have wept, as i saw others do, especially at the thought of those amongst the slain who had been my personal friends; but i felt that i had to restrain my feelings there. it was my duty to encourage the men and turn their minds to god. and god helped me to accomplish this; and, however bitter the sorrow of everyone was before those graves were filled, we returned from that sacred spot to the laager encouraged and hopeful. chapter vi the first of our dark days the burghers soon recovered their spirits after the affair at platrand. their dejection disappeared, and gave place to an activity which showed itself in their willingness to perform any duty laid upon them. they dug new trenches everywhere, on the top and along the sides of the hill occupied by us, and built new "schanzes" (breastworks). there was also more vigilance, commandant de villiers sent more burghers on guard every night, and they went willingly. then, too, a better spirit took possession of the men. there was a greater sense of comradeship amongst friends than formerly; there was no brawling, and swearing was seldom heard. it seemed, too, as if the burghers felt the need of religion more; for a request was made, emanating from them, that prayer-meetings should be held in the laager, in small groups, every sunday afternoon. shortly after the platrand battle, a rumour went round that it was the intention of general buller to break through within seventy-two hours and relieve ladysmith. very little belief was attached to this particular rumour, although we were convinced that the english intended soon to make a new and powerful attempt to relieve their besieged comrades. but soon there seemed to be some truth in the rumour after all; for, from about the th of january, great numbers of troops were seen moving from frère to springfield, a place about twelve miles west of colenso, on the right bank of the tugela. we could thus surmise that general buller intended breaking through in that vicinity. as i have already mentioned, general a. p. cronje had marched up along the tugela with a number of free staters some time before. he had kept to the north side, and was stationed not very far from potgieter's drift. he now went towards the cluster of hills of which spion kop is the highest peak. these hills form a sort of a range running from north to south, on the left bank of the tugela, about ten miles west of ladysmith. standing on the summit one sees the beautiful tugela, monarch of natal rivers, majestically winding and cutting its way through the plain. south yonder, to the left, the main road can be seen passing through the river at potgieter's drift, and leading towards ladysmith at the foot, eastwards of spion kop. there is another road passing through the river higher up at trichaard's drift, which to the north joins the road from acton homes to ladysmith. this road climbs the mountain two or three miles north of spion kop. now, if general buller intended fording the tugela from springfield, at either potgieter's or trichaard's drift, to go to ladysmith, he would have to bring his troops along one or both of these roads. our generals, therefore, took up positions all along the range. general a. p. cronje posted his men on the hill to the north-west of spion kop and guarded the road from acton homes. during the battle commandant de villiers stationed himself on cronje's right, to the west of the acton homes road. the vrede burghers were placed by general cronje on his left, south-west of the road from potgieter's drift. and everywhere between the free state positions lay the transvaalers, who had hurried to spion kop immediately the intentions of the english became evident. thus, for example, to mention no others, general burger occupied positions in the immediate vicinity of spion kop. while the british were massing at springfield, the boers did everything in their power to strengthen their positions. they threw up splendid breastworks everywhere on the hill, from the south-west of the potgieter's drift road, up to the north of the other road. they sought out the best places for cannon, and constructed forts wherever necessary. the movements of the english were most narrowly watched. no act of theirs escaped our notice.--where in the world can be found better scouting than among the boers?--and so it was seen that the english were placing guns on swart kop, a wooded hill on the south bank of the tugela, somewhat to the east of potgieter's drift. it was now clear to all that the enemy would attempt to break through somewhere in the mountains of spion kop. we did not have to wait long. on the th it was seen that troops and heavy guns were being brought through the river at potgieter's drift. at the same time large numbers of troops were proceeding through trichaard's drift, and everybody knew that matters would soon come to a head. and so it proved. early on the following morning, th january, the cannon--great naval guns--began to roar from swart kop, and the eight days' battle of spion kop had commenced. soon now the troops passed by the road from trichaard's drift through venterspruit and slowly commenced to climb the hills. a number of their mounted men detached themselves from their left wing and hurried on in the direction of acton homes. it was clear that they must be stopped, and some of our men were immediately sent to oppose them. these men came in contact with the english on the following day, and fell into an ambush. believing the english to be still ahead, they found themselves attacked in front and on their flank. they hastily took up position on a kopje and defended themselves for a time with unparalleled gallantry. there were some of them who wanted to hoist the white flag when they found themselves in a fearful cross fire; but the others declared that they would shoot the first man who did so. field-cornet mentz--better known by his _nom de plume_ of mordecai--fought like a lion. but he received a mortal wound and sank to the earth to rise no more. after this our men, overpowered by superior numbers, were forced to yield. several more had been killed and others wounded, and the enemy took twenty-four prisoners. the english did not advance any farther from that point. they were prevented from doing so by the presence of numbers of free staters and transvaalers in the road from acton homes to ladysmith, but no fighting occurred there. the other forces, those that were advancing from venterspruit, stormed the centre of the ranges in great numbers. they came on in two divisions, occupied some hills opposite our positions, and placed cannon on them. meanwhile the english cannon had crashed and thundered unceasingly since the preceding morning. the entire range was subjected to a terrible bombardment, from the vrede positions, east of the road from potgieter's drift, up to our right wing on the acton homes road. shells of every sort and size fell fast and thick on our positions. i saw the huge projectiles of the naval guns striking the earth, and how great clouds of dust and smoke arose whenever one of these huge shells came in contact with the earth. the ground was torn and ploughed up when the lyddite shells burst with a terrific crash, and their yellow smoke gave the burghers headaches and made the water in their flasks bitter. the bombardment was fearful. never for eight days long was there a pause. clouds of smoke constantly rose from the earth, where the shells burst, and one could continually see the hundreds of vanishing cloudlets in the air where the shrapnels burst over the positions. our cannon, although greatly outnumbered, were terribly destructive. the gunners had the inborn talent of the boer, alike of accurate aim and of judging distances, and to this was added the advantage of military training received at pretoria or at bloemfontein. so they did not fire at random, and their missiles always seemed to burst just where they were intended to. our french quick-firing and krupp guns often demoralised the advancing troops. our maxim-nordenfeldts were the especial aversion of the british soldiers. we heard from some who were taken prisoners at spion kop that "hell clock" was the name they gave our pom-pom. i visited the battlefield just in the middle of the eight days' battle, on sunday, january , when the bombardment was at its fiercest. i found that it had often been so intolerable that the burghers were driven out of the earthworks and compelled to seek shelter behind the hill slopes. but they had always returned and kept up a continuous fire on the advancing soldiers. i found, too, that the english had as yet always been driven back, but that their repeated attacks had not had quite a satisfactory moral effect on the burghers. the direction of affairs was, however, in the hands of commandant general louis botha, than whom there was no man better qualified to encourage the burghers. just as at colenso, so here he rode from position to position, and whenever burghers--as i have related--were losing heart and on the point of giving way under the awful bombardment, he would appear as if from nowhere and contrive to get them back into the positions by "gentle persuasion," as he expressed it, or by other means. a case in point happened on st january, while i was there. a few of our forts near the acton homes road were evacuated, and the english would certainly have taken possession of them--and thus been nearer to the attainment of their object--had not three transvaalers remained there, and by firing rapidly, made such a demonstration that the british thought that the forts were still manned, while two others went to acquaint general botha with the state of affairs. it was then that general botha once more persuaded the burghers to return to their positions; and the english did not approach any nearer there. on the following day, when riding back to the laager, i was struck by the way the burghers were pouring in from all directions as reinforcements. i saw persons of every age going to the positions. there were amongst them boys and middle-aged men; there were even grey-beards. and the most remarkable thing about this was that all these men had not been ordered to the battle. they came of their own accord. i thought of a text in the bible which, when separated from its context, was applicable here, "thy people shall be willing" (ps. cx. ). amongst them was a youth of fifteen or sixteen, who was met by commandant de villiers. he was riding a chestnut pony and looked very shabby. poor lad! "oom," he said to commandant de villiers, "i hear they are at it up here." he used the untranslatable word "spook." "yes," answered commandant de villiers. "and you? where are you going to?" "i am going to 'spook' too," said the boy, and rode off on his lean pony. on the following day commandant de villiers met him again; but how changed he was. instead of his dilapidated hat, a helmet of one of the soldiers adorned his head; and he, or rather his poor little chestnut, groaned under the equipment of two or three soldiers. he had three lee-metford rifles, several water-flasks were slung from his shoulders, and a number of bayonets hung at his horse's side and rattled whenever the animal moved. besides this, he had also several of the small spades with which the english soldiers are provided; he had got his head through three or four cartridge belts. "he had 'spooked' indeed!" thought commandant de villiers. the attack from venterspruit lasted for four days. it was fearful to witness what havoc our guns wrought amongst the english--especially the maxim-nordenfeldt. but the british allowed nothing to baffle them. they were repeatedly driven back, and one constantly saw them carrying off their dead, and constantly they reappeared with new reinforcements. they built small entrenchments of stone and lay firing from behind them, and the shells exploded and our mauser bullets rained upon these small fortifications. but there was no sign of retreat. the number of our dead and wounded had already reached nearly a hundred. we began to tremble as to how matters might turn out. how long would it last, we asked when the fourth day had passed and our burghers continued to suffer terribly under the bombardment. how long, we asked ourselves, would our burghers be able to hold out? at last the shades of the night of the rd of january closed in upon the horrible scene, and many anxiously questioned what the morrow would bring forth. the night was dark and rainy, and this did not help to dispel the depression which prevailed; but the burghers were not discouraged; neither the four days' attack, nor the six days of shelling, nor the depression caused by the drizzling rain, could quench the quiet determination and courage of our men. they entered upon the night firmly resolved that, when the light of morning dawned, they would once more begin their schanzes and again face the fire of the guns, and beat back the ever-returning odds. on the following day everything looked dark. the mountain was enveloped in a dense mist, and for a long time the men lay behind their schanzes waiting for what would happen when the vapours were dispelled. after some time the weather cleared, and what was the surprise of all to see that there were english on the summit of spion kop! they had climbed the mountain under cover of the dark night. and there were some who said that all was over with us now. the battle was lost. but the burghers who were in the vicinity of the kop were not of this opinion. general burger reported to general botha how matters stood, and he himself gave orders to commandant prinsloo of the carolina commando to storm the kop. this was carried out splendidly by prinsloo and his carolina burghers, at the cost of killed and wounded out of the gallant . the burghers of lydenburg and heidelberg also took part in the onslaught. and when general botha soon afterwards stormed the kop from another direction, no one doubted but that the attack would succeed. in the meanwhile matters had gone hard with the english on spion kop. from the moment that our gunners had discovered them, they had bombarded them fiercely. the english perceived too, when it was too late, that they had not been able in the darkness to find the best shelter, and that they were now insufficiently protected from our shells. these caused such slaughter amongst them that when our storming-party reached the top, before ten o'clock, they met with very little opposition. the english were driven to the other side of the kop, and the fight was carried on at very close quarters. boer and briton were often but fifty yards apart. and now something happened about which we had heard complaints before, but of which i will now speak for the first and last time: the abuse of the white flag. when the english had been some time under the withering fire, they hoisted the white flag and held up their hands. our burghers thereupon ran up to them; but to their intense indignation and abhorrence, when they approached the english they were suddenly subjected to a hot fire. this so incensed them that when the white flag was hoisted again shortly after, they refused to believe that no treachery was intended, and continued firing for a while even after they saw the white flag flying. but, convinced at last that a genuine surrender was now meant, they ceased their fire and took prisoners. during this fierce fighting on the kop, reinforcements were continually being sent up from below to help the british. but these were subjected to a merciless bombardment, at one point especially, where they were particularly exposed. they were cut to pieces by the shells of the quick-firing guns, and mown down by the tiny projectiles of the maxim-nordenfeldt. at the end of this long day darkness closed in, to the relief of all. all except a small number left the top of the kop, and spent the night against the slopes of the hill with the intention of renewing the bitter contest at the first signs of daylight. the burghers rose very early the next morning. they were soon in the positions of the former day. but why was all so still? not an englishman was to be seen--not even a rifle barrel protruded over the entrenchments of the enemy. cautiously our men proceeded to the other side of the kop. the mountain was deserted! down below, the entire force of the enemy could be seen retiring towards the tugela. the great battle of spion kop had been fought. the english had made a second attempt to relieve the besieged at ladysmith and had a second time been beaten back. we could not accurately estimate their loss, but hundreds of dead lay on the battlefield. general buller obtained leave from general botha to bury his dead; and it was heartrending to see how many there were. many of them were flung into the long trenches that had served as breastworks, and so great was the number that the earth did not sufficiently cover them all. some even remained unburied. we did not know what the exact number was, but we saw the dead lying in heaps. it is unnecessary for me to say here at what number the boers estimated the strength of the english. the reader can learn the number for himself from british sources when he is perusing these pages. it is sufficient to state here that their numbers far exceeded those of our men. for we did not have more than men there at the utmost, and of these all did not take part in the battle; at the same time our loss was great. on the day after the battle general burger telegraphed: "our loss is not exactly known, but must amount to about dead and wounded." the number afterwards proved to be killed, wounded. we had now a short period of rest, and i got the opportunity of visiting the rev. h. f. schoon, minister of ladysmith, in intombi camp, in which the english had placed the non-combatants, the women, and the sick and wounded. an arrangement had been made with sir george white to allow burghers, who had leave from their commandants, to enter this camp to see their friends. strange, is it not? it was impossible for such a thing to happen in the later phases of the war. well, i got leave from commandant de villiers to go, and had the pleasure of visiting my friend and his family, and of comforting them in their trouble. they looked pale and weak. i learnt that they got enough to eat, but that the meat was very lean and bad,--other rations were dealt out to them in small doles. i found mr. schoon and his family were very quiet and resigned. we could not converse as we should have wished, for a magistrate was present; but i could hear enough to gather that the besieged were in a piteous plight. on my way to this camp i visited the dam which the transvaalers were constructing across the stream of the klip river with the intention of inundating ladysmith. i saw a great number of kaffirs there filling thousands of bags with sand, with which to make the dam, which was already level with the surface of the water. on the th of february, general buller commenced his third attempt to break through. on this occasion he advanced along the potgieter's drift road, and tried to force his way through to the south of that road. it was marvellous to see how rapidly the burghers got into position everywhere to oppose the english. the johannesburg police suffered very heavy losses. their position was subjected to such severe bombardment that they could not endure it, and were forced to evacuate it, leaving behind their dead. the english then took possession of it, but were in turn shelled by our guns, especially by one of the long toms; and they speedily relinquished the advantage they had gained. here again general buller's effort was a failure, and he retired south of the tugela with his whole force. the following week i went to harrismith to spend a week with my family, so that i was not on commando when the english broke through at pieter's heights and at last relieved ladysmith. i can therefore say nothing of that, to us, ill-fated battle. i can only say in passing, that the great mistake there seems to have been that general botha was not in command. when he arrived on the scene at the commencement of the battle, he strongly disapproved of no measures having been taken to prevent the english from taking klanwane--the wooded ridge to the east of colenso. "if the english once get on that hill--we have no chance," he said. and what he had said proved true. the english took the kop and placed their naval guns on it, and they then had the key to ladysmith. it was then all over with us! from klanwane they could direct a terrific bombardment on all the boer positions. and the boers were overpowered by the overwhelming odds of cannon as well as men. after besieging ladysmith for four months, the siege was given up and our forces retired to the north. the commandos trekked with all speed through the mud--for the weather was rainy: the transvaalers to the biggarsberg and the free staters to the drakensberg. i visited the harrismith burghers a few days after they had pitched their camp on the great mountain range. what thoughts passed through my heart on thinking how different was our position four months ago when we had descended from those towering mountains into natal. during the four that had elapsed we had been very successful, except during the last month, when we began to have disaster on disaster. cronje had surrendered at paardeberg. kimberley, ladysmith, and mafeking had been relieved; and just after i arrived in the laager, the report came that lord roberts had occupied bloemfontein without firing a shot. was this the beginning of the end? i asked myself. those were dark days! and yet no one was utterly cast down. "matters will take a turn," so everyone said; and notwithstanding all that had happened, we looked forward hopefully. and how much help, too, did not the men receive from their wives. those who obtained leave to go home for a few days, found their wives as courageous as ever. they found, too, that their womenfolk had performed the labour of men on the farms, while they had been in natal. they had seen that the fields were ploughed by the kaffirs, and in many cases they had themselves scattered the seed in the furrows; and now the men would commence to reap what the women had sown, to reap so plentifully that man and beast would live for months upon the harvest. what noble women are the wives of the boers! they are the very embodiment of the love of liberty. they have ever been ready to stand by the sides of their husbands, in the holy cause of freedom. in former days they moulded bullets for their husbands, while these were repulsing a fierce onslaught of kaffirs; and now they had managed the entire farm-work, while the men were absent, fighting for their country. and in the future--alas! that such a future should lie before them--they will have to suffer inexpressible sorrows, because they will choose to be the true-hearted mothers of a free nation. because of their steadfastness they will have to suffer as the women of no civilised nation have ever suffered at the hands of the soldiers of another civilised nation. they will refuse to call back their husbands from the heroic strife; and for that they will have to submit to humiliation and insult; for that they will be driven from their homes like cattle; for that they will have to yield their lives in concentration camps; they will have to see their homes burnt, and the food taken out of the mouths of their children, and all this because they have held their liberty dearer than anything. we knew not then, during those dark days on the drakensberg, that such a future lay before our women. but we saw enough of their indomitable courage, to know that with such heroines for mothers, wives, sisters, daughters--it was impossible for us to give up the struggle at the first sign of adversity. that was a source of consolation to us in the sorrowful days of march . part ii _endurance_ chapter i to nauwpoort this second part of my notes, like the first, is not cast in the form of a journal. the reason is that my diary was lost on the th of june at graspan, near reitz, where i was captured by the english and remained in their hands for seven hours.[ ] i escaped with nothing more than the clothes on my back. when, some days after, i arrived at fouriesburg i began to rewrite what i could recollect, and succeeded in this better than might have been expected. i prepared a calendar of the sundays, and this helped me to recall to memory, for every day of the week, almost everything i had noted down. it became evident, however, that i could not now write a journal, but a narrative. this, as i knew, would be less attractive for the future historian, to whom a chronicle, however dry, is of more importance, but it would be, in regard to form, more pleasing to the general reader. [footnote : how i was released will be described later.] girding myself to the task, i discovered when i began to write that what i was recording afresh was perfectly reliable. i succeeded better than i expected. entire pages appeared almost word for word. this was no doubt due to my having written my journal over several times at zwart klip, in the months of january and february . i shall now proceed to relate what i witnessed during the war subsequent to the events which had happened when i made my last notes in natal. when the burghers of the free state had to retire from natal, a large number of them were ordered to go as reinforcements to our forces who were endeavouring to prevent lord roberts with his immense army from penetrating farther into our country. the burghers, however, of harrismith, vrede, and heilbron, under chief-commandant marthinus prinsloo, were to remain on the drakensberg to guard the border. they lay along those mountains from oliviershoek on the west as far as de beer's pass to the east. subsequently the burghers of heilbron were also called away; and when general prinsloo shortly after went away to our commandos in the neighbourhood of lindley and senekal, commandant hattingh of vrede was elected chief-commandant. i spent nearly the half of my time in visiting these burghers. on sundays i held divine service in the church at harrismith, and on week-days i was in one or other of the laagers on the drakensberg. it was very irksome for our burghers to lie there inactive, without ever coming into contact with the enemy; for from natal the english made no advance. our men stood guard day and night, and now and then a patrol went down the mountain; but further than this nothing was done. the spare time was employed in building sod-stables for the horses, and making "yoke-skeys" and handsome walking-sticks from the wood of beautiful trees which were ruthlessly felled in the large forests which grow on the natal side of the drakensberg mountains. for the rest the younger men amused themselves with swimming, cricket, football, and quoits, and so summer glided away into autumn, and autumn into winter. sad waste of energy and time, one might say, whilst the other burghers were engaged in a life-and-death struggle in the middle of the state. undoubtedly so! but the order had been given: guard the frontier! and as in obeying this command the burghers of vrede and harrismith had also the advantage of protecting their own districts, it was by no means against their will that they thus lay inactive from month to month along the border. but there came a change in this condition of things when, towards the middle of july , an order was issued by the president that all the forces on the drakensberg mountains should proceed to nauwpoort.[ ] the border guard immediately raised the objection that it was not advisable to remove all the forces from the frontier, and thus leave the only two districts in the free state--vrede and harrismith--that had not yet been devastated, open to invasion from the side of natal, and unprotected against kaffir "raids," and they asked the president if he would not change his decision in this matter. after some correspondence, the president agreed that a small body of men should be left as a guard along the border under mr. jan meyer, who for this purpose was appointed acting chief-commandant; but at the same time gave very strict orders that all the other burghers should without delay proceed to nauwpoort. [footnote : this was the order. when general de wet passed through slabbert's nek, the following arrangement was decided on: general de wet was to proceed on the th to heilbron, and general roux the day after to the south of the state. it was further arranged that general marthinus prinsloo should remain in command of a small body of men stationed on the roodebergen from commando nek to nauwpoort in order to guard the grain districts. general crowther had on the same day as general roux to go to witkop and stay there until he could join general hattingh, under whom he was then to operate in the districts of vrede and harrismith. the unfortunate spirit, however, which, immediately after the departure of the president, arose among the officers at nauwpoort upset all these arrangements.] in accordance with these orders the burghers who had since the month of february been stationed on the drakensberg, left their positions there on the th of july , and two days later, after having made some necessary arrangements at their farms, encamped for the night near mont paul, about three miles from elands river. this force consisted of burghers from harrismith and vrede, with one armstrong and two krupp guns under command of chief-commandant hattingh, with mr. c. j. de villiers as general. early the following morning they crossed elands river, and the officers held a council of war on the left bank, during a short halt of the laager, when it was decided to requisition slaughter-cattle and horses from the burghers remaining behind, and some of the men were immediately sent to carry out this resolution. that night we encamped at klerkespruit, not far from the dwelling of the late m. jacobsz. on the following day things began to take a more lively turn. the waggons were inspanned early, and had proceeded to the farm sebastopol, where, about five o'clock in the afternoon, a report-rider from a position of the bethlehem commando at spits kop came riding into our laager with the request that reinforcements should immediately be sent by us to spits kop, to oppose an english force that had marched out of bethlehem with the apparent intention of going to harrismith. general de villiers was in the vanguard, and immediately sent notice to the assistant chief-commandant, at the same time requesting him to send the guns forward. hurried preparations were now made to proceed without delay with a body of mounted men, and from time to time other despatch riders arrived, urgently asking that there should be no delay. at ten o'clock everything was ready, and the men rode out in the raw winter night. we progressed slowly, for the cannon remained far behind, and from time to time we were obliged to wait for them to come up. everywhere along the road grass fires could be seen, which had been lit by the burghers to warm their feet by whilst they were waiting for the guns to arrive. at last they halted by a hill to the west of groendraai, and slept there until the moon rose. we proceeded then to near davelsrust, and whilst the burghers were filling their kettles there, and partaking of an early breakfast, another messenger arrived with the same request as before. the men ate their breakfast hurriedly, and we were soon in the saddle again marching forward with various expectations. when we drew near to the positions of the bethlehem men, general de villiers sent forward the armstrong under acting commandant streydom (vrede) to field-cornet gideon blignaut, who was at spits kop, whilst he himself with the two krupp guns went eastwards, against a force of the english on the left bank of liebenberg's vlei, on the hills opposite langberg. when we approached the enemy we occasionally heard the whistle of a bullet, with the peculiar sensation which that sound is apt to cause. but how suddenly did that pass when the roar of our own guns fell on our ears. the fire of our krupps made the english, at whom they were aimed, scatter; but our gunners had, in their turn, to seek safety behind a ridge, when the little shells of an english maxim-nordenfeldt (pom-pom) began bursting rather unpleasantly around them, and driving terror into the artillery horses. they took up a position at the edge of the ridge, opposite the english, not far from the house of mr. nicholas kruger, a little to the east of a small body of bethlehem men, and from there kept up a desultory rifle fire until the evening. the following day was sunday, the nd of july. when we awoke it appeared that the enemy had disappeared from the ridge, and about ten o'clock a portion of the burghers were ordered to occupy the deserted positions. the men were soon there, and a desultory fire was opened from the edge of the ridge to the north-west. after a short time the firing became more severe. the english also brought a maxim into play, and it seemed as if the fight was going to be a sharper one than that on the previous day. nothing in the world was the matter; everything, on the contrary, was going satisfactorily, when some officers came riding back from the position to general de villiers, who was directing the fight from the positions which we had occupied the day before, and told him that the place where the burghers were fighting was untenable. thereupon the general ordered that they should retire slowly. the burghers who were fighting at the edge of the ridge heard this with much astonishment and disapproval, as they saw no reason for drawing back; but when they noticed that the men on their left were all riding away from their position, they were also obliged to give way. at two o'clock we were back in the positions of the previous day, and the burghers thronged together at a point of vantage to gaze at the positions which had thus been forsaken, filled with dissatisfaction at the desertion. when they were standing there crowded together, the sound of an approaching shell was heard. it flew just too high, fortunately, over the heads of the throng of burghers, and burst in the kloof behind them. had it been a little lower it would have worked dreadful havoc. the men dispersed quicker than they had come together, and sought shelter behind the large boulders; and then shell upon shell kept falling till the evening, without, however, doing any damage to man or beast. it had been quite unnecessary to leave those positions, and it struck me as a bad sign that the burghers were so ready to give way. that evening when we turned in the weather was beautifully mild, but this was the harbinger of calamity! hardly had we lain down to rest before a drizzling rain set in. at midnight i heard a peculiar sound, as of something soft falling upon the blankets. it was snow! soon it lay two inches thick upon our blankets. after two hours the rain and the snow ceased, but most of us were wet to the skin; and when on the following day we dried our clothes by the fire, we could speak from experience of having had to sleep in the open air in a snowstorm. after breakfast general de villiers crossed liebenberg's vlei to reconnoitre the positions of the english from langberg. on arriving there he saw that the enemy was drawing off in the direction of spits kop, whereupon he immediately returned. he then ordered the whole of our force to march in the same direction, to support assistant commandant streydom and field-cornet blignaut. he had just given this order when a report arrived from the latter officer, stating that the enemy had occupied spits kop, and asking for reinforcements. after dark we began marching thither; we proceeded with the utmost silence. no fire was lit along the road; smoking was forbidden. before daylight we were near the position held by field-cornet blignaut, near the so-called "schurve kopje" (rugged hillock). it was then resolved that we should go to the hill between the homesteads of hans and david naudé, where we arrived shortly before sunrise. we had not long been there before general hattingh arrived. he ordered commandant truter, with a number of burghers, to return to liebenberg's vlei, and to remain there in order to oppose the enemy should they return thither. in the afternoon we saw a large force of the english approaching along the road that leads over suiherbosch plaat. this force was under the command of general sir h. macdonald, and had, as we ascertained later on, come from retief's nek. the enemy pitched their camp about three or four miles from us, and immediately began to throw out scouts in our direction. on the following day a council of war was held, and it was resolved to station the burghers as follows:-- the bethlehem men, under field-cornet blignaut, at liebenberg's vlei; the men of vrede, under acting commandant streydom, at the "schurve kopje"; one field-cornet at the hill, where the harrismith men were; and the burghers of harrismith in the nek of nauwpoort. on that same afternoon general de villiers received a letter from general roux requesting him to hold nauwpoort, as it was the intention of the commandos who were on the other side to come through this pass. the burghers of the various commandos occupied these positions accordingly, and i went to nauwpoort with the harrismith burghers. next morning general de villiers expected an attack, and as it was clear to him that the field-cornet at the hill between the homesteads of hans and david naudé would not be strong enough to stop the english, he sent field-cornet pretorius and assistant field-cornet jan jacobsz thither with a number of men, whilst he posted commandant truter on a fine ridge on the west of the pass near the house of abraham naudé. he remained at nauwpoort with the intention of going to the hill himself later on. we had hardly reached the hill when it became evident that the enemy had some serious intention in mind. they began to move forward, and marched straight for the hill with two field batteries and one lyddite gun. the force which had taken spits kop began at the same time to advance with their guns to "schurve kopje." this had just happened when we saw that the men of the vrede commando on the schurve kopje were leaving their positions. they certainly had no chance of holding out against the great odds that were advancing on them. it was now clear to us that we should be in danger of being attacked on our right, if the english who were advancing from spits kop should reach the schurve kopje, and the prospect was not very cheering. the enemy now began to bombard our positions. the infantry were approaching in extended order. nearer and nearer they advanced in front as well as on our left. our guns, under sergeant oosthuizen, did good work, and gave the troops who were advancing on the left a warm reception. louder and louder roared the english guns, and their shells burst everywhere on and beyond the kop. general de villiers rode over to us at one o'clock--just as the fight was at the fiercest. matters then stood thus: some of the english had already approached so near to our left wing that we were exposed to a cross fire, and others in front were already below the rocky ledges, under cover of which they could get to our rear; moreover, we were in danger of being at any moment bombarded by the guns on the schurve kopje, which the enemy had already taken. for another hour the burghers held their position, and a sharp rifle fire was maintained against the troops on our left flank, especially by field-cornet jan jacobsz. but when at last it became evident that we should be surrounded if we remained there any longer, the order was given at two o'clock to leave the position. we retired to the west of mr. hans naudé's house, and halted on the banks of a donga not far from the foot of the roodebergen. if we had had no cannon with us, we could immediately have crossed the dongas near the mountains and have gone to the pass. but there were the guns. they could travel along the waggon road only; and this was now impossible because of the proximity of the enemy. our plan, therefore, was to remain where we were until it became dark, and then, under cover of the night, to trek to nauwpoort. but we had not calculated the probability that the enemy would immediately follow up the advantage they had gained. that is just what they did. we had not been off-saddled at the donga three-quarters of an hour before our pickets came in to say that the english were following us up. at all costs now we had to push on to the pass. most of the burghers sprang on their horses and rode away without troubling themselves about the guns. they had to be stopped; and general de villiers asked me to ride forward and try to stop them, whilst he would drag forward the guns as best he could. i succeeded in inducing the men to halt at another ravine, and when the guns arrived there, many of them helped the gunners to get the ordnance across. it was an ugly defile through which vehicles never passed, and we were obliged first to drag across the fore portion of the gun-carriage, and then to fetch the hinder part. this caused great delay, and meanwhile the enemy fired at us with maxims, though luckily their shots fell short. the one cannon was already across, and the second one nearly saved, when the shrill shriek of the english shrapnel was heard. and now there was no longer any chance to stop the men. each went his own way. to add to our troubles, the carriage of the second gun upset and had to be left behind. the gunners removed the breach and rode away. it was now a case of _sauve qui peut_. some took shelter behind the large rocks, others climbed the mountain, whilst others hurried on to the pass; but all became conspicuous targets before the roodebergen and the setting sun shining upon them. i rode towards nauwpoort, and saw how shell upon shell was fired after our cannon and the swiftly retreating burghers. once during the retreat sergeant oosthuizen halted, directed his gun, and fired three rounds of shrapnel at the enemy, hitched his horses to again and drove on. to add to our uneasiness, we saw on approaching the pass, that the english were advancing on our flank, with the object of cutting us off from the nek; but they were hotly bombarded there by the burghers of commandant truter from the ridge on which he was posted, and by a maxim of commandant hasebroek, who had in the meanwhile entered the pass. this prevented them from attaining their object of heading us off. when the sun set the majority of those who had retreated in the direction of that pass had reached nauwpoort; likewise our rescued gun; and from there it opened fire heavily upon the english. then the enemy fired some lyddite shells at long range upon us in the pass. i have never heard anything more awe-inspiring than when those great shells exploded there. awakening the thousand echoes of the precipitous rocks on both sides of the pass, they resounded through the narrow defiles of the mountains like mighty thunder-claps. the shades of night fell now, and all was still. then the gunners, reinforced by a number of burghers, went and fetched the abandoned gun. and what had we to record as to our loss on the following day after this terrible bombardment? there had been no loss at all--this was the most marvellous of all that had happened--no loss! this is the strangest of all--no loss of man or beast! nobody had even been wounded! all--officers and men, were mustered without loss before midday. chapter ii on the banks of the little caledon the officers agreed among themselves that general hasebroek should remain at nauwpoort to defend the nek, whilst the men of harrismith were ordered to go to the footpath near the house of mr. willem bester, in order thus to afford the commandos a chance of coming out from behind the mountains somewhere near oldenburg or witzieshoek. we therefore advanced on friday to the south of the roodebergen, up along the little caledon. how lavishly does nature reveal her magnificence here. awe-inspiring mountains rise into the air with every variety of jagged rock, crowning the heights now tinted red by the winter grass. the sharpest contrast of light and shadow strike the eye from the barren masses of sandstone, and the deep, dark ravines. one feels overpowered--everything is so colossal! it is in such a place and in sight of such mountain views that one must feel oneself a stranger and sojourner upon this earth of ours. ay, a stranger, for one cannot claim as one's possession what nature so liberally offers. we rode on with this grandeur all around, and arrived at the farm of willem bester shortly after noon. there we off-saddled at a large wheatstack, whilst a number of men were sent as a patrol to the top of the mountain where the footpath crosses. i was lying on the straw with the others, when general roux arrived there. from him i learnt much that surprised me, and which by no means served to cheer me. he told me that, after the president and general de wet had shortly before passed through slabbert's nek, the english had broken through there. this had happened in the previous week. and now the enemy had also taken fouriesburg. there were still burghers in position on this side of that town, but the majority had no intention of fighting any longer. everything was demoralised. moreover, nobody knew who was in command: he or general marthinus prinsloo. the consequence was that there was no cohesion. every commandant acted as he thought fit. then there were very many who were fleeing with their cattle and waggons, and it seemed as if all those people cared about was how to save their cattle or waggons, or even some little cart. he saw plainly, that as long as there existed such an immense waggon-laager as that which now accompanied the commandos, and as long also as they were encumbered with women and children, nothing could be accomplished. under these circumstances he considered that, first of all, somebody should be elected who would be acknowledged as commander-in-chief. he thought an armistice of six days should be asked of the english in order to enable us to consult our government. he had convoked a meeting of a council of war for this purpose, and the officers were to assemble that same night. we moved up somewhat nearer to the footpath and spent the night at the foot of precipitous mountains in a beautiful kloof. here we learned that our waggon-laager, for the safety of which we had been uneasy, was still at large and was encamped at groendraai. that night the officers held a lengthy meeting, and general marthinus prinsloo was elected chief-commandant. his election was, however, not final, on account of the absence of some of the officers who had still to vote. it was further resolved, _mirabile dictu_, by votes against , to surrender to the english forces! but the council of war was undoubtedly startled by this resolution, and immediately brought it under revision, resolving anew that they would ask the enemy for an armistice of six days for the purpose of being enabled to consult with the government. they further resolved that if this were not to be acceded to by the enemy, a commission of officers should reconnoitre the positions, and if these were found to be untenable, they would then continue fighting in the direction of witzieshoek with the object of breaking through and passing out of the mountains there. the following day we proceeded. i met the revs. j. j. t. marquard, m. heyns, and p. a. roux, not far from the house of mr. w. bester. they were in no very hopeful mood--a fact which did not tend to cheer me, as the rev. j. j. t. marquard, especially, had never been otherwise than buoyant. i could not remain with them long, because i had to proceed with my commando. what beautiful views of kloof, valley, and mountain presented themselves everywhere! sometimes an immense rock would rise perpendicularly a thousand feet into the air, from the road along which we were marching. then we would cross a hill and could look down upon the little caledon far below, winding its way through a ravine. how this little stream seemed to soothe and comfort, and soften the weirdness of the grandeur. now it lay still and calm, caressed by lily and bulrush, where it was for a moment held captive by a ledge of rocks stretching from bank to bank; then again it dashed on as if impatient at being impeded in its course by the great boulders which had fallen into its bed from above. but it was not the rivulet,--it was the mountains that held you spellbound and constrained you to think of nothing else. how sharp was the contrast between the majestic calm of the eternal mountains and the unrest of the men that swarmed below! everyone kept pressing on. forward, ever forward! whither? no one knew whither; but everybody felt himself enclosed within the mountains, as if in the horrid embrace of a nightmare and his only wish was to escape. to escape! no matter whither! and then? this i asked myself, when we had got beyond these mountains, should we then bravely march against the enemy on the plains? alas! i saw but few indications of it. yet could i blame this confused multitude? no, they were as sheep without a shepherd. it was then, if ever, that a _man_--one man was wanted! unconsciously the multitude cried for a leader, and--the leader did not come! long trains of waggons and carts, large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep were driven on with feverish haste. everywhere one could mark the signs of uneasiness and fear upon the faces of those who were fleeing there. they anxiously inquired of such persons as came from the direction of fouriesburg or nauwpoort, where the english were, and whether they might soon be expected. what grieved me beyond measure was the sight of so many women and children amongst those who were thus endeavouring to escape. here one might see mothers with babies in their arms, and little ones clinging to their skirts, jumping over the stepping-stones of a river-ford or wading through the water whilst the waggons were struggling across. yonder again there were others baking bread in ant-hills. here again you saw girls in scanty clothing, gathering fuel or drawing water, while there was a short halt for the purpose of preparing a meal, and letting the weary oxen rest and graze. poor women, poor children! why should they be there? we rode on, and about noon passed the beautiful farm "golden gate" belonging to mr. jan van reenen. he treated the burghers with great kindness, and gave each one a bundle of forage for his horse. in the afternoon we proceeded on our journey, and when the sun set we stood upon the mountains that look down upon oldenburg. many a time, when visiting as clergyman of the district the members of my congregation there, i had gazed enrapt on the beautiful view of this fruitful plain surrounded by a circle of lordly mountains; and now again, in spite of melancholy thoughts, the charm of the scene entranced me as i looked a thousand feet down. there many carts and waggons had arrived already, and preparations were being made to pass the night on the spot. we descended by a steep footpath, and learnt that our waggon-laager had not, as we had feared, fallen into the hands of the enemy. it was at that moment still in safety, at the farm of mrs. van der merwe. we off-saddled, and soon the mantle of night hid not only the grand views of mountain and kloof, but also the sad spectacle of panic and confusion. chapter iii the unconditional surrender of general prinsloo sunday, the th july , must stand on record as the saddest day in the history of our struggle. it was on that day that general marthinus prinsloo unconditionally surrendered the whole of the forces under him to general hunter, notwithstanding the fact that at that moment he was not chief-commandant according to law. but let me relate in due order what i experienced. after having held a short service for the men of harrismith early in the morning of that sunday, general de villiers and piet maré, member of the volksraad, addressed them, and general froneman, who happened to be present, also said a few words. we then passed through the nek to the north of the dwelling of mr. salamon raath, for the purpose of taking up positions against the forces of the enemy under general macdonald, with whom we had been engaged on the other side of the roodebergen on the previous thursday. those forces had meanwhile moved round by "davelsrust," with the object of preventing the commandos from escaping at oldenburg or witzieshoek. general de villiers rode to the house of mr. jan raath to be present at a meeting of officers who had still to vote for the election of a chief-commandant. after they had voted, it appeared (so we learnt in the evening) that general roux had finally been elected chief-commandant! when general de villiers, with his field-cornet, left for the meeting, he ordered his men to occupy a high hill near the residence of mr. jan raath, and left one of the burghers in command during his absence. his burghers thereupon rode along a ditch on the way to the position, but before reaching it they turned off to the right and eventually halted near the house of assistant field-cornet jan jacobsz. here they slaughtered two oxen and ate and drank, preferring to avoid the enemy to fighting him! i saw how things would go. from the ridge behind us i had seen platberg in the distance, at the foot of which harrismith lies, and pointing in the direction of their homes i remarked to someone: "next sunday all these burghers will be on their farms." a peremptory command was sent to the burghers to occupy their positions, but they got no farther than a gully; for the enemy was already in possession of the hill which we should have occupied in the morning, and all we could do now was to fire shrapnel at them. at night there was nothing left for us but to retire to the nek. we little knew then what general prinsloo had been doing that day. the following day i was up early, and accompanied mr. frans papenfus to the house of a. cilliers. there i drank a cup of coffee, and then rode on to mr. salamon raath's. on the way thither a harrismith burgher asked me if it was true that general prinsloo had surrendered the whole of our force to the english. this was the first word i heard about the matter. i could, however, not believe that prinsloo would do such a thing, and laughingly replied that the report was certainly incorrect. but very soon it became evident that what the burgher had heard was only too true. general marthinus prinsloo had indeed surrendered unconditionally to the enemy. a copy of a letter from general hunter was handed round, in which he gave the assurance, subject to ratification by lord roberts, that no private property or personal belongings of the burghers should be touched, and that each burgher would be provided with a horse to the place where he had to give up his arms. the greatest excitement prevailed. many abused prinsloo, and declared that he ought to be shot. this surprised me, not only because i knew what the resolution of the council of war on the friday night had been with regard to the surrender, but also because i had been an eye-witness of the state of despondency of the burghers and of their unwillingness to fight. if prinsloo should be shot, surely other officers deserved the same fate, and many of the burghers as well. so i thought on that sad monday morning. later on, however, it became plain to me that, after all, general prinsloo had to bear the blame. if there had been a victory he would have claimed the honour. now, the disgrace of the surrender must for ever be associated with his name. was he not chief-commandant, or at least did he not act as such? and is it not the duty of a chief to instil courage, where such courage is on the wane, and to lead on where no one else would advance of his own accord? the chief, indeed, should be the best, the most courageous, and the bravest burgher, else anyone might take upon himself the command of an army. ah! if ever a leader was wanted, the perplexed multitude, shut up as they were within the mountains behind nauwpoort, had need of one. most of the burghers thought they were bound by the resolution of general prinsloo to submit and to lay down their arms. i thought so too. why did we have a commander if, under certain circumstances, we had to decide for ourselves without recognising him? unfortunate are the people that in such a case have to decide for themselves. it was my impression that all was lost, at least as far as we who were behind nauwpoort were concerned. there were, however, others who instinctively judged otherwise about the matter. the shame of surrender while there was a chance of escape by a route running past the dwelling of salamon raath seemed to be too great to them, and they declared that they would not lay down their arms. on the other hand, there were others who, while they did not mind the loss of their independence so much, could simply not bear the thought of being captured, and i heard many say: "i shall not allow myself to be caught by an englishman." there were also others who were already out of the defiles, and they could not think of returning. and so it happened that a number of burghers under generals kolbe and froneman, and commandants olivier, hasebroek, visser, van tonder, truter, and others, with six guns and some maxims, immediately moved away in the direction of harrismith. in the meanwhile it was said that some persons had been seen with a white flag on the nek to the north of mr. salamon raath's house. general de villiers went thither, but on the way he was told that they had disappeared. on his return to his waggons he heard that these persons had been seen at another place. two burghers whom he sent to bring them to the laager failed to find them. instead of returning at once, these two burghers, quite on their own responsibility and without orders, went straight to the english force under general macdonald, who was then near the house of jan raath. the english general received them with the distrust of one who finds men from the army of the enemy coming into his camp without credentials; but eventually believing their statement, that they had missed meeting his messengers with the white flag, he sent them back with a letter to general de villiers informing him that general prinsloo had surrendered together with the whole of the boer force. he asked general de villiers to abide by what general prinsloo had done, and warned him that any movement on his part would be regarded as an "act of war." while this was taking place, another messenger had been sent in the opposite direction to general hunter, to obtain further information regarding the surrender. this messenger was met by commandant visser, who immediately sent him back with the assurance that general prinsloo, not being chief-commandant, had in this whole matter acted without authority, that the surrender was illegal, and that no one was to consider himself bound by it. general fourie, who had not yet reached the farm of salamon raath, also sent a despatch to the officers requesting that their men should take up positions. when the men of harrismith who had not gone out with commandant truter heard this, their joy was boundless, for they had been in great doubt as to what they should do; especially after general de villiers had said during the course of the day that he, being included under the surrender of general prinsloo, was not an officer any longer, and therefore left it to each burgher to act as he might think fit. now, however, he again took the command, and ordered the burghers to go into the positions. with shouts of joy, and singing the "volkslied," they rode out to occupy the nek. but they got no farther than the house of salamon raath, for it appeared that no one else wanted to fight any more. meanwhile a meeting was held by the officers present, and at that meeting there were field-cornets who said that neither they nor their men would fight any longer, declaring at the same time that the leaders, if they continued the struggle, would be guilty of needless bloodshed. and so the positions remained unoccupied. this made everybody there hopeless again, and now it appeared that there was nothing left but to remain there and surrender. general de villiers called his burghers together, and thanked them for the services they had rendered to the state and for the attachment and kindness shown to his person. i also spoke a few words and declared amongst other things, that i could not believe that it was all over with our south african cause, but if it were so, then it would be owing to our unwillingness. god would have wished to establish for us our independence, but we should have refused to earn it. in the course of the day general roux had ridden in the greatest haste to general hunter to protest against the surrender of prinsloo, on the ground of its being illegal: first, because he, and not prinsloo, was the commanding officer; and secondly, because prinsloo had in any case not acted in accordance with the resolution taken by the council of war on friday night. general roux, as might have been expected, did not return. the only two generals who were beyond the circle of mountains which surround oldenberg, and who could have proceeded onward, were generals p. fourie and c. t. de villiers. they agreed to remain where they were for that night, not far from the house of mr. salamon raath, in order to ascertain on the following day what general roux had been able to do; but before dawn of the following day, general de villiers heard that general fourie had gone away without saying a word about it[ ] great was the indignation of general de villiers. he immediately ordered his men to inspan and saddle their horses. we hurried away, and i arrived at harrismith in the evening, after two of the saddest weeks of my life. how dejected i felt. how sad was my wife. how dark the future seemed to be. [footnote : a week later, when the two men met each other again, general fourie declared that he had sent someone to tell general de villiers that he was going forward, and that therefore the fault did not lie with him. speaking to general fourie, subsequently, i learned that the messenger was sent early in the evening; and i remember that the man did come to us. but the message he brought was a request that general de villiers should act in accordance with the agreement. this person remained behind, and it may be that he purposely delivered a wrong message in order to induce general de villiers and his burghers to remain there, and thus swell the numbers of those remaining behind.] chapter iv to president steyn and general de wet i had felt very much discouraged on the farm of mr. salamon raath. there i had thought that all was lost--at any rate as far as the commandos behind nauwpoort were concerned. there is no doubt that the burghers noticed it in my behaviour, and inferred it from my language. there was indeed much to cause this melancholy state of mind: the disposition of the burghers to retreat, the discouraging words of some officers, the expressive silence of others; and when we heard at last that matters had reached a climax in the unconditional surrender of general prinsloo, the _coup de grâce_, so to speak, was given to my hopes. i of course attached no importance to the braggadocio of those who loudly declared that prinsloo ought to be shot, while they themselves were the most unwilling to go into positions, or deserted those positions on the bursting of the first shells there. they could not rectify matters by boasting, nor did it give me any assurance of a brighter future. but on the morning after i awoke at harrismith i felt more sanguine; and it grieved me that i, who had always spoken words of encouragement, should have shown signs of despondency; and i felt now that i ought to stand by those who wanted to continue the struggle, and remain with them till the end, come what may. i recalled also what i had written to the president not long before, namely, that it was my intention to attach myself to those who would rally round him at the last, if it became necessary. now, as olivier, hasebroek, and others had decided to go to the president and general de wet in order to be reorganised, i decided to go too. if the struggle had to be given up, let our government give it up. in order to carry out this resolution, i rode away from harrismith early next morning, in order to proceed to zwart klip, the farm of general de villiers, and with him to accompany the commandos that had escaped, in their search for the president and general de wet. that morning i reached the farm of mr. matheus maré. as, however, the english did not on that day arrive at harrismith, i returned in the evening to spend another night with my family. but this could not be, for i found there were straggling bands from the commandos in town who were taking horses out of the stables, whether they belonged to friend or enemy; and i saw that if i wanted to make sure of a horse to ride, it would be better not to trust to the chance of finding my horses in the stable at daybreak. therefore, when de villiers and some others resolved to leave harrismith immediately, i determined to do the same and accompany them. so at midnight between the st and nd of august , i parted from my wife and children, and proceeded to the farm of mr. stephanus schoeman. on the following day i obtained from mr. schoeman the loan of a strong pony (on the previous day i had got an excellent horse from mr. adriaan dolebout); and we rode away. on the way to zwart klip we passed the commandos, and heard that english officers had followed the burghers with a white flag, and advised them to surrender. these messengers were sent back with the answer that the burghers had no intention whatever of doing any such thing. on the way i met two of our principal men, who had hitherto been amongst the warmest supporters of our cause, but whose names i shall not here record. they were in no very hopeful mood, and it seemed to me that very little was needed to induce them to go and lay down their arms. this did not tend to cheer me; but i was encouraged somewhat when later in the day i spoke to jan jacobsz, louw wepener, and others, and noticed how firmly resolved they were to continue the struggle. on the following day a meeting of harrismith burghers was held at molen river bridge. at that meeting it was resolved to send the english generals a letter informing them that it was our opinion that, for the reasons already stated, we regarded the action of general marthinus prinsloo in surrendering himself with the whole of the force as illegal; also that it was our firm resolve to continue the struggle. further, general de villiers was enjoined to commandeer the harrismith burghers anew. this he did that same afternoon, and sent one "commandeer list" with mr. jacob van reenen to field-cornet gert pretorius, and another with piet grabe to assistant field-cornet johannas loots. in the evening we heard that the enemy were at glen lennie on their way to harrismith, and that a patrol had already reached the town commonage. we then knew that before the sun would set once more our town would be in possession of the english. there remained, therefore, nothing for us to do but to make the last preparations for taking our departure. everything was made ready that same evening, and early next morning we proceeded to join the other commandos. here it must be noted that there were many in the district of harrismith who regarded these commandos with the greatest contempt, and who indulged in very strong language regarding them. these commandos were--so they said--very uncontrolled, taking everywhere what they wanted from shops and farms. it was further alleged that they thought of nothing but running away; and it was argued that this was proved not only by the fact that they had retreated from nauwpoort, but also by their contriving to avoid the enemy even after they had escaped from the mountains. this was the excuse which many of the burghers of harrismith gave for surrendering a few days later. they were, they declared, unwilling to accompany and act with a band of robbers; and thought it better to lay down their arms immediately than to carry, and not fight with them. the answer to this is not far to seek. that the commandos were demoralised was evident; no one with his eyes open could doubt this. but now they went to their president and commander-in-chief! why? was it not for the sole and only purpose of getting breathing-time?--to get reorganised? and was it not therefore the duty of everyone to join those who were going to the government for that purpose? surely no burgher had the right to turn his back upon his government, whilst it was still in existence, and whilst the road by which to reach it remained open.--by not doing this they made themselves guilty of desertion. this weighed heavily with me, and although i saw much in the burghers that i most strongly disapproved of, and although i had myself not yet wholly regained my former hopefulness, i could not regard the matter from any other point of view than that, so long as the president had not surrendered, i could not do so either, and that it was my duty to stay with those who did not intend doing so. and thus it occurred that i began a journey, which was to last twenty-one months, on saturday, the th of august . i was one of a small company of which general de villiers was the chief person. he did not at that juncture enjoy a very high reputation, because there was no lack of persons who declared that he had not acted in good faith at nauwpoort, and that he had been in league with the enemy. i was convinced of the contrary, and remained in his company. i had enjoyed his hospitality when all went well with him, and now i would not desert him when his sky had become clouded. we reached the commandos at gwarri kop, near cornelius river, and we learnt there that messengers from the british had again come to insist upon our surrender. how much trouble did the generals to whom prinsloo had surrendered not take to induce us to desert! what noble work it was for warriors to do! if the english had succeeded in this the war would have been brought to an end, without their having the trouble of fighting any more. but what would lord roberts have thought of it if our positions could have been reversed, and if we had sent messenger upon messenger to his discouraged and weary subordinates and soldiers to persuade them to be unfaithful to their country and their flag? our leaders were steadfast, and sent the english officers back with the message, that not only had we no intention of surrendering, but that we also did not wish to receive any more messengers with similar proposals. the following day, being sunday, i held a service in the house of mr. david de villiers, at holspruit, and then rode to the commando to see if i could be of any use there. but that faithful free stater, the student macdonald, was just busy holding service. i was greatly edified and comforted by his interpretation of the words, "i will lift mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help!" during the week we heard from our president. his letter was in answer to a report, despatched immediately after the nauwpoort affair, informing him of the state of affairs. he expressed himself deeply grieved at the surrender, and appointed general p. fourie as acting chief-commandant. he also mentioned that many burghers had taken up arms again, and urged us to come to him as speedily as possible. a few days after this, judge hertzog came to us. he said that he had been sent to lead us to the president and the chief-commandant, and brought us the latest news from the transvaal. we now travelled a long distance every night, halting during the day. our way of "trekking" was to begin at nightfall and to continue till about midnight or two o'clock in the morning, and then to tie the oxen to the yokes and hobble the horses. this "trekking" was not pleasant; for the weather continued bitterly cold, and to remain in the saddle almost the whole night with icy cold feet was certainly not enjoyable. but it had to be done, and no one grumbled. our laager was by no means perfect, as may well be imagined. we consisted of small numbers from almost every district of the orange free state, and were not used to each other. moreover, there were too many officers. there were generals without commandants, and commandants with hardly any men. under these circumstances one can well understand that there existed but little cohesion amongst us, and that the burghers committed excesses of which they would not have been guilty had the laager consisted solely of burghers from one district. it thus happened that some wasted their ammunition by firing it away at game, and through carelessness the veld was set on fire almost daily. this continued until by stringent measures and heavy fines the delinquents were deterred. one instance of a sad veld fire occurred on the th of august. it began at a spot where a camp-fire had been lit, and might have resulted in the destruction of a large portion of the laager. it was quite calm when we rose that morning, but soon the wind began to blow. the storm raged more and more fiercely, and somebody said that if no order were given to put out all fires in the laager there was danger for the veld. this had hardly been said when someone shouted, "the veld is on fire!" everything was now in commotion to leeward of the wind. tents were pulled down, and the burghers hurriedly removed their saddles, bedding, and whatever they could, across the road to a place of safety. some dragged the waggons by hand out of danger, and others ran about with sacks to extinguish the fire; but all did not assist in the attempt to extinguish the flames--only those who were in danger--the others looked on at the fire with colossal indifference, and went on roasting their meat or doing whatever they were busy with, as if there was no danger at the other end of the laager. but how great was the danger there! each burgher redoubled his energies and did his utmost. all, however, would have been in vain, and a portion of the laager would inevitably have been destroyed if there had not fortunately been a narrow road between us and the fire. besides, by a lucky chance there was the hide of an ox which had been slaughtered that morning. this was dragged across the fire, and wherever it was drawn it extinguished the flames; and in this way the laager was saved from destruction. but it was just as impossible to stop the conflagration as it is to stem the strong current of a river in flood. the flames sped onward, and soon all the veld to the east was black. subsequently we heard of great damage done by this fire, and that lives had even been lost. what mischief had we not done by our unpardonable carelessness,--and we had always taken it so much amiss when the british troops had set fire to the veld! the wind continued blowing all day, but died away in the evening. we then inspanned according to custom, and "trekked" onward to the banks of the spruit named klip river, six miles east of heilbron. we now hoped to reach the laager of general de wet shortly, as it had been in the vicinity of this town when judge hertzog had left it. the following day, being sunday, mr. macdonald and i held religious services in different parts of the laager. we learnt in the course of the day that a considerable force of british was barring our way. this forced us to draw back some distance. we proceeded far into the night, and on monday morning we were just as far south of heilbron as we had been east the day before. it then began to seem doubtful if we should meet the president and general de wet as speedily as we had hoped, not only because the english were in our front, but also because our scouts told us that we might expect a british force in our rear, coming with the road from bethlehem towards heilbron. messages were, however, sent to general de wet, and from him also tidings were received from time to time. on the following day, tuesday, th of august, it appeared that we should come in contact with the enemy. the force which was marching along the road from bethlehem to heilbron was coming nearer and nearer, and we came in collision with it not far from vecht kop of "voortrekker" fame, where sarel celliers had frustrated the matabeles in in their attempt to take his laager. the british trekked along between the ridges, where our men had taken up positions, and this kop. at twelve o'clock our guns opened fire on the enemy, which was fiercely responded to by the english cannon. our burghers held the positions they occupied till late in the afternoon; but when the enemy's infantry advanced in strong force from the front, and the burghers, who held a position on a pointed hillock to the right, gave way, the men who fought in the centre were forced to retire. they did this under a hail of bullets, and it is a miracle that many were not killed. only one was wounded there; but altogether we lost three dead and seven wounded on that day. we were not elated over this result, but according to what we heard a month later, the loss of the english was greater than ours. it appeared that the enemy's purpose was to reach heilbron, for we were not pursued, and after dark we proceeded in a south-westerly direction. it now speedily became evident that we should not reach the president for some time. word had come that he and general de wet had taken refuge in the transvaal, and that they were being pursued by an enormous force. our officers decided to act according to circumstances: to oppose the enemy wherever it was practicable, or to retire whenever we were forced to do so; but in all cases steadfastly to remain under arms. we had done our utmost to reach our president and chief-commandant, and had failed. but the short time of respite which had elapsed since the affair at nauwpoort had exerted a beneficial influence on all, for we were now more and more convinced that, whether we reached the chief of our state or not, surrender was not to be thought of as long as our government existed. chapter v wandering our trek to heilbron had borne good fruit, not only in that it had freed us from the baneful influence which the surrender at nauwpoort had caused, but we had also learned to know each other better. the heterogeneous elements of the laager became more and more homogeneous. it seemed quite natural that there should be one man in command. at his bidding we trekked, and at his command we halted. by degrees we became used to discipline, a clear proof of which was the fact that no one fired unnecessary shots, or set the veld on fire. from vecht kop we trekked in a south-westerly direction. we pursued this course the whole week till we got near ventersburg, keeping about eighteen miles away from the railway line. how endless these night marches in the depth of winter seemed. the waggons that brought up the rear seldom reached the camping-place before two or three o'clock in the morning. the least delay in front affected each vehicle in the rear. when a ford was reached a halt was called to see how things looked there, and then the whole trek behind was kept waiting, and in this manner from two to five minutes were always lost. the next waggon then reached the ford, and the same thing was done over again. again the waggons behind had to wait, with a similar loss of time. when a waggon got stuck the delay was even longer. then, in addition, a fearful commotion arose. there was dreadful shouting and yelling before the kaffirs could convince the oxen that they had to get the waggon out by hook or by crook. this slow progress was inexpressibly tedious, and we resorted to all sorts of contrivances to beguile the time. i sometimes would ride on ahead, and then with my horse's bridle over my arm would sit or lie down on the grass till the last waggon had passed, when i would again ride on and wait; or else i would walk leading my horse, in order to warm my feet. in this manner the time passed till, to my delight, i saw lights in the distance, which proved to me that a portion of the laager had already reached the halting-place. when at last i arrived there, a piece of meat was half-broiled on the coals and heartily relished. how it looked, and how much of the ashes adhered to it, could not be seen in the dark; but this made no difference, for the long trek in the cold winter night had sharpened our appetites. during this week we crossed rhenoster river, and one morning at two o'clock we arrived at doornkloof. later in the day i had the pleasure of visiting the farm of that stalwart "voortrekker," sarel cellier. thirty years before i had as a boy met him there alive and well. it was a pleasure to me now to be able to pass a short time there with his widow. but it struck me painfully how troublesome the burghers were to the women on the farms. the house was constantly so full that there was no place for everyone to sit down. they were continually going and coming, and asking for this and that. "has tante (aunt) any dried fruit for sale?" "do bake for me; i will give you the flour." "auntie can make bread or vetkoek (dampers) of it, just as you think fit." "can't auntie have my clothes washed?" when i heard this i said, "my dear man, do as i do--wash your own clothes." and yet how could i blame others for being troublesome when i had on one occasion got a loaf of bread from that house myself? i feel, however, that i need not plead guilty, for i very seldom went into the houses. sometimes, as on this occasion, i went to see acquaintances. at other times the occupants of the house had heard that i was in the laager and invited me into the house. but as a rule i did not go to farms. when we were at doornkloof the question persistently presented itself to me: where in the world _are_ we going to? for we did nothing but wander from one place to another; so at least it seemed to me. i made a note in my diary to the following effect: "not with levity nor irreverently do i call to mind the first words of the hymn--whither, pilgrims, whither go ye?" we turn to the north and then to the south and-- "you are running away!" very well, we _were_ running away, if you wish. what of that? don't we keep the war going in this way? the english imagine they have conquered us. this is far from being the fact. they have occupied the towns, but they are not in possession of the country. they have annexed the republic, but not the people. their troops march out in overwhelming numbers wherever they wish, east and west, from one town to another, and we cannot prevent them, but we remain in the field nevertheless; we are still free. we turn to the right and to the left, and our adversary is not able with all his cannon to prevent it. in this way we keep the war going, and increase the expenditure day by day. in this way we worry our adversary; and thus we hope--the weak against the strong, like the widow and the unjust judge in the parable--to force the stronger to yield to our importunity. in the evening we trekked as usual; late at night we crossed the bridge over the valsch river. on the following day a sad duty fell to my lot. a kaffir had for the rape of a white girl been condemned to death by the council of war, and i was called upon to prepare him for death. during all my professional duties i had never had the spiritual charge of a man condemned to death. although he deserved his sentence, in my opinion more even than if he had been guilty of murder, i could only regard him in this his last hour as a fellow-man. all sense of condemnation was effaced, only pity remained--pity for his total helplessness. although he acknowledged that he deserved death, he asked me if i could do nothing to obtain his pardon; and when i told him there was no hope, he still kept urging me to try and move the officers to inflict some other punishment. as a mouse in the claws of a cat struggles in vain to get free and yet continues struggling, so he, hoping against hope, struggled against the inexorable. could he not be released? at length he resigned himself. i spoke to him of jesus and prayed with him. after a short time he was led away to his grave, and standing in it he laid his hand on my shoulder and repeated the words of a prayer after me. i hurried away from the spot, but before i reached the laager a volley announced that all was over in this world with that human being. the following day was sunday. we were not far from ventersburg. shortly after divine service some burghers went out against a patrol of the enemy, cornered them in a kraal and took twenty-four of them prisoners. amongst them were some officers and one person who claimed to be a doctor. as, however, he was found armed, he was held prisoner along with the rest. we had not yet commenced our evening trek, when i received from someone a note written by the rev. r. h. daneel, informing me that my wife had gone to maritzburg to my parents. this was a comfort to me, for i had always been uneasy about her. i subsequently found that the english had turned her out of the parsonage and put her over the border. on monday evening after sunset we again proceeded. it was a miserably long trek. a delay occurred at a ford, and it was half-past three in the morning before we arrived at the outspan, which the foremost waggons had reached at twelve o'clock. before we could lie down to rest it was already half-past four, and the morning star was shining on the eastern horizon. a trek or two more brought us to doornberg, and commandant hasebroek went with a number of men to ventersburg. he found the town empty,--that is to say, there were no troops there,--and he levied his usual tribute on the shopkeepers of coffee, sugar, meal, and other provisions. chapter vi what happened near winburg and at ladybrand when we had been at doornberg for one day the vrede commando arrived and joined us. we now became a comparatively strong force, consisting of about men. on the following day some men were sent from each of the commandos to assist commandant hasebroek, who had since the previous day been engaging about of the english. these english had marched out of winburg with two maxims, and had taken up a position at the house of mr. le roux, not far from doornberg towards the south-west. without being ordered, a large number of burghers left the laager on the following day to go and join the fight; and when i with several others arrived at the house of general andries cronje, i met numbers of them returning. they said there were already too many engaged against the english at le roux's farm, and that they had been ordered to proceed to the ventersburg road to oppose a possible reinforcement from that village, which had meanwhile been reoccupied by the enemy. as had been suspected, a number of the enemy had in reality advanced from that direction to help their friends, but they turned back when they saw our men, not, however, without burning down some houses on their way. from the east the burghers of vrede also made their appearance, and pursued these troops; but when the enemy began to fire shrapnel at them, they ceased the pursuit and returned to the laager. the english on the farm of le roux had meanwhile been harassed by our men during the whole day both in a poplar-grove and around the farmhouse. we had two guns and a maxim there, and with these they were bombarded continually. they were also within reach of our rifles. our men approached the enemy in some cases to within three hundred yards, and so it came about that on our side four were killed and seven wounded. in the evening the matter was given up, and all our men retired to laaispruit. commandant hasebroek had treated our burghers very kindly, and his house was not far from where the fight took place, and there his wife had provided many with food and a cup of coffee. every burgher was full of praise for him. the following day was sunday, the th of august. divine service was held at several places; and at nightfall men marched out, with the object of taking winburg, whilst the laager proceeded a little towards the south. commandant hasebroek sent one of his sons to guide the burghers, whilst he marched on the town from another direction. unfortunately these men delayed too long at a place where they went to sleep for a while. they arrived at their destination when it was already broad daylight. this was the reason that the whole thing turned out a miserable failure. on this account also the guns could not be properly posted. as was to be foreseen, our men were expected by the english, who were in good positions; and it frequently happened that our men were nearly surrounded, and had to retire. here general olivier was captured. he rode into a party of the enemy, and so little was he aware how matters stood that he took them for our people. "hands up!" they cried. he laughed, thinking it a joke on the part of his own men. but it was no joke, and commandant olivier had to lay down his arms. commandant van tender was with him, and was already disarmed, when he set spurs to his horse and raced away. a bullet cut through his sleeve, but he escaped to tell of the sad occurrence. the burghers returned in confusion to the laager, followed by small numbers of the enemy. the whole affair was a fiasco, and winburg was not taken. the enemy could do no more than drive our men back to the laager; but they avenged themselves for what had taken place at le roux's farm, by burning down commandant hasebroek's house. when we started in the afternoon clouds were rising in the west, and the thunder rolled. no rain, however, fell, but it was a sign that the worst of the cold weather was past and that spring had come. the sky remained clouded, and two days later, when we approached the little vet river, it rained hard and continuously. the ground was soaked, and two months later, when we came along there as a mounted commando, we could still see the tracks our waggons now made in the mud. during this week some waggons loaded with meal, coffee, sugar, sweets, and brandy were captured by our men. on the banks of the little vet river the different articles were distributed to the men. some commandants acted, with regard to the brandy, in a sensible manner; others, not. in one instance the men drank immoderately, dipping pannikins into buckets which had been filled with brandy. general fourie came upon one sad spectacle of drunkenness, and there and then poured all the liquor on the ground. on friday evening we had advanced as far as allandale. here it was resolved to rest a while, and a committee of officers went on ahead to select a suitable place at the foot of korannaberg where the several commandos might encamp. on saturday morning each commando went to the spot assigned it. how pleasant it was to trek onward after the rain. the showers had already had effect upon the veld, and the tender blades of grass were making their appearance. everywhere one saw signs that nature had once more awakened from her winter sleep, and it was delightful to gaze on the fresh green, on the branches of the willows and the soft pink of the peach blossoms. and irresistibly our hearts too were filled with a strong desire that thus too, after the winter of our discontent, the national life of our poor people might once more revive. we were all encamped somewhat to the west of korannaberg, and rejoiced at the thought that we, for a time at least, would no longer have to undertake endless night marches. but these pleasant thoughts could not be indulged in by all. already some burghers out of every commando had been ordered to proceed that very evening with general fourie to ladybrand, for the purpose of taking that town. early on the nd september, after having ridden the whole night, the burghers attacked ladybrand. the troops lying in garrison there immediately retreated to lelyhoek, a beautifully cultivated rocky kloof near to the town. without delay a heavy bombardment was opened upon the english, and kept up through the whole of the day with the two guns which general fourie had taken with him. at nine o'clock general visser was already inside the town--being the first of our officers who entered it, and at eleven o'clock some of our men captured horses and cattle and stormed the enemy to within six hundred yards. somewhat later on twelve men advanced to within a few yards of the positions of the english; but had to retire not only on account of the enemy's severe fire, but also because some krupp shells were being fired at them by our own gunners, who mistook them for english. during the day positions on all sides were taken up nearer to the enemy, behind the rocks above lelyhoek, and behind the stone walls of the gardens in the town. a continual fire was kept up on both sides. the english also kept firing without intermission into the town, and some of us were hit there. amongst others, one burgher was killed in the street near to the church. at nightfall the enemy had been driven out of lelyhoek, and had sought shelter amongst the rocks a little higher up. the same kind of fighting was kept up on monday and tuesday. a perpetual sound of rifle firing filled the air, overpowered every now and then by the roar of a krupp shell that would make the rocks re-echo somewhere in lelyhoek. i arrived on the scene on the evening of the third day, and then i learnt that everything had to be abandoned, and that our people were preparing to retire at eight o'clock; the enemy might be forced to surrender within two or three days, but this could not occur before the arrival of a reinforcement which was advancing from newberry's mill. it was also feared that assistance might come from ficksburg. i had therefore only an hour and a half at my disposal to visit my brother-in-law and his family. i walked quickly to the parsonage, got some information there regarding my wife, and then left the town along with the burghers. although the english garrison was not forced to surrender, our men had taken the town, and held it for three days. our wants also had been provided for. as much clothing and food had been taken out of the town as could be carried away, and although general fourie could not return completely victorious, he had no reason to be dissatisfied with the result of his expedition. we had, during the three days, to lament the loss of four killed and five wounded. what the english loss was we could not learn. well satisfied, we returned to the laager; but yet there was one thing that displeased me: it was that goods belonging to private persons had been taken. of course, i do not refer to what was taken by the government as the lawful prize of war; but to the spiders and horses belonging to individuals taken in the town. my feeling on this matter was so strong that i considered it my duty two days later, when a council of war was held, to request the officers to see to it that their own resolutions and orders concerning this should be carried out. chapter vii the trek from korannaberg to general de wet we had heard from general de wet. this was the reason for the meeting of officers two days after the taking of ladybrand. general de wet had ordered that the harrismith commando should proceed between kroonstad and rhenoster river, and should be employed along the railway line in interrupting the communications of the enemy, whilst the burghers of vrede were to go to him--but without encumbering themselves with their waggons, and that the other commandos were to proceed farther west, everywhere taking the towns and appointing magistrates. on saturday, the th of september, we separated. from commandant hasebroek we parted at korannaberg, whilst general fourie hastened forward with men to interview general de wet personally. the order of general de wet was not carried out by the men of vrede and harrismith. they considered that they could not do away with their waggons; but nevertheless resolved to proceed to the chief-commandant, and then, when they should arrive where he was, to act according to circumstances. it was one of the most monotonous journeys imaginable. we were under the command of general hattingh as acting chief-commandant, and from the th to the th of september we did nothing but trek some distance every evening. we never travelled so late into the night as when we were going to korannaberg, and, excepting that nothing occurred to afford an agreeable variety, the life was not an unpleasant one. one can understand that every excuse was seized for the enjoyment of some diversity, and so it happened that a most decided breach of discipline took place of firing shots contrary to the established rule of the commandos. the temptation came in the shape of "wilde beests" (gnus). one afternoon we reached a part of the country where that kind of game still existed in considerable numbers, and the temptation was more than some could resist. wilde beests! those were animals about which our fathers had so often told us, and which the majority of us had never seen! regardless, therefore, of the safety of the commando on the march some of the burghers fired at the game. the reports of the rifles frightened the horses, which had by now become frisky after the rest at korannaberg, and the young grass they had eaten. some of them broke loose, and bolted across the broad level plains, whither the owners pursued them like madmen. how angry they were with the delinquents! but it probably gave them some satisfaction when the officers, some days after, punished this transgression with a fine. proceeding on our way, we first heard that the enemy had hemmed in commandant hasebroek at doornberg, and afterwards that he had escaped with the loss of nearly all his waggons and his field-guns. we heard later on that the enemy had been in strong force under general hector macdonald, and that commandant hasebroek escaped with all his men, but that general macdonald had captured sixteen of his waggons at vet river on the th, and eighteen at doornberg on the th of september. the cannon, however, did not fall into the hands of the enemy. commandant hasebroek concealed them in a dam so as not to have the trouble of dragging about with him guns for which he had no ammunition. on sunday, the th of september, we were not far south-west of senekal. from there we trekked nearer to the town and then northwards; we crossed through sand river and camped at bretsberg. on the previous day several of the burghers had gone to the town, and many others intended doing so next day, in order to purchase what they required. but before they could do so, we heard that the english had entered the town from the direction of zuringkrans, so suddenly that no one was aware of their approach. the men who were there escaped at the opposite end of the town just in the nick of time, and reported to us what had occurred. the laager had now to inspan hurriedly and trek, while a number of burghers hastened away in the direction of the town to oppose the english should they advance. the british fired from the forts at senekal, and their shells burst on a ridge along which the laager was trekking out of town. great was the indignation at the want of vigilance displayed by the scouting corps in allowing the enemy to approach and take senekal without being noticed; but after the captain had given an explanation, the council of war was satisfied and acquitted the corps of all blame. the enemy did no more than hurl shells at us, and we went our way unharmed. on the th of september we had advanced to modderfontein, where we were just twenty-four miles from senekal, ventersburg, kroonstad, and lindley respectively. an unpleasant surprise awaited us here. early the following morning we heard rifle firing and the dud--dud--dud of a maxim-nordenfeldt, both directed against the scouting corps. the laager again trekked in great haste, while the burghers went to meet the enemy. unfortunately the issue was not favourable as far as our losses were concerned, for two of our men were killed and three were wounded. the advance of the enemy was, however, stopped, and several of them were killed, wounded, and captured. we now proceeded on our way in peace--unmolested by the english. we again crossed valsch river, but this time somewhat farther up the stream. leaving lindley to the east, we passed through rhenoster river by the same ford through which we had passed a little more than a month before when going south. the nearer we approached to where we hoped to meet general de wet somewhere in the heilbron district, the more fervently we longed to see him. everybody thought that the chief-commandant would put everything right, and the days that intervened before we should see him seemed to pass all too slowly. at last ( nd september, saturday) vecht kop came into view. in passing we gazed at it with varied emotions, for we seemed to see the laager of sarel celliers there, surrounded by moselekatze's hordes. we seemed to hear their battle-cry and their fierce assault; we witnessed their repulse and the deliverance of the little laager. then vecht kop disappeared behind us, and other thoughts swayed us as we rode over the positions where the fight of august had taken place. in the evening we outspanned on the farm of petrus schoeman and halted for the night, expecting to hear from general de wet every moment. the following day was passed as usual, and at three o'clock the general rode into the laager. at five o'clock the burghers assembled to be addressed by the man whom all had longed so much to see since the unfortunate affairs at nauwpoort. the officers presented him with an address, with which, however, he was not particularly pleased, saying that he was not very partial to addresses. he then spoke to the burghers in his pleasant, clear, and pithy manner. he said that it was his firm conviction that god would help us, and would not allow us to disappear as a nation. but this belief should not make us careless; on the contrary, this conviction should be a spur to every man to do his share of the work. every man should do his duty, which consisted in this, that each one should be prepared to sacrifice his all on the altar of liberty: money, goods, comfort, life! as we were weak and our adversaries strong, the best way of fulfilling our duty would be to keep harassing them. this we should do by making provisions at pretoria and johannesburg dear, through continually interrupting their communications. further, the waggons should be done away with--done away with immediately, and the burghers were to form separate mounted commandos. he then related to us some of his experiences when he was pursued by large british columns from slabbert's nek up to the bush veld, and how matters stood in the transvaal, and what had taken place at the battle of machadodorp. this address was listened to with rapt attention, but it soon became apparent that most of the men had not heard what they had wanted to hear. on the following day a council of war was held, general de wet presiding, and his proposition concerning the abolition of the waggons, and of commandos acting independently, was accepted. in the afternoon the commandants called their men together and made known to them what had been decided upon, at the same time commanding the burghers to free themselves from the encumbrance of their waggons immediately; and as to the harrismith men--we, together with the kroonstad burghers, were told to employ ourselves by breaking up the railroad and to interrupt the trains between rhenoster and sand river, our commanding officer was to be general philip r. botha. one could immediately perceive by the grumbling in the laager with what dissatisfaction the commands of general de wet had been received. it could not be done, many declared, and the burghers of one ward of a commando went the length of riding away immediately--not to lay down arms to the enemy, oh no, but to procure fresh horses in their own district, and to continue the war there. they had imagined de wet to be quite a different sort of man, and that he would save the cause in quite another manner. they had thought that, like a _deus ex machina_, he would put all things right in a wonderful--a magical way. instead of this we had in him a man whose motto appeared to be not "all _will_ come right," but "all must be _made_ right." instead of lulling us to sleep to the tune of "peace, peace, live as comfortably as you can!" we had in him a leader who demanded much work and great sacrifices from us. we had not heard a lullaby, but a _reveille_ sounding in our ears. and this was something so strange, after having fought for a year with no discipline to speak of, that at first many could not bear it. there were therefore those who were dissatisfied, and who said that these commands were impracticable, and a few even went the length of riding away from the laager, as i have already noted. the reason of all this is, that our poor africander people could never, since the days of piet retief, recognise or follow a hero when he arose amongst us. but christian de wet was a strong man, and what he willed came to pass. on the following day most of the burghers packed their things, and prepared themselves to exist in the future as mounted commandos; while a small number, with weak and thin horses, separated from the others and formed a laager--which was immediately dubbed by the inventive faculty of the africander mind, ma'er lager (lean laager). my son and i put what we thought most necessary into a corn-bag and wallets, tied our blankets in front of our saddles, and were ready to go with the mounted commando. the waggons disappeared over a rise with a rumbling noise, and we rode away in an opposite direction, the blue expanse overhead our only covering. i must admit that i was not in a very optimistic mood. chapter viii our experiences as a mounted commando it was on tuesday, th of september, that we commenced our work as a mounted force. we rode on until we reached the farm where we had listened to the address of general de wet. the enemy almost immediately drew our attention. on the other side of the hillock, of which i spoke in connection with the fight on the th of august, and on this side of vecht kop, a small english force were marching along the main road to heilbron. we occupied positions on this little hill and on the ridges to the south-west of it, whence we could see the english. after a while they halted in a hollow, and our cannon opened fire on them. some confusion ensued, and several minutes elapsed before the english guns were brought into action and began firing on our krupps. the odds were then too heavy, and our gunners were unable to continue the fight. they were obliged to remove the krupp out of danger, and before nightfall all the positions were deserted. we halted for the night without off-saddling our horses, on the slopes of a ridge not far from heilbron, and went early next morning where we expected the english to come along. we reached a ridge, behind which the english were, but no one seemed inclined to take possession of it, as none knew what it looked like on the other side. general philip botha was not with us yet, and the officers who were with us did not lead the men up. they remained below merely urging them on. "charge, you young fellows!" they cried; but as example is better than precept, they spoke in vain. only about twenty-five men obeyed. when these brave fellows gained the top, they opened fire on some british cavalry who had nearly reached the crest of the ridge, and forced them to retreat. they also forced the gunners of an armstrong to abandon it. but at a distance of eight hundred yards there was another gun, and somewhat farther a maxim-nordenfeldt. there was a slight pause. then the english began from there to bombard our men, and the shells fell not only on the ridge but also on the commando at the back. the brave twenty-five had to retire from the ridge, and the commando was scattered, retreating in confusion past the south of heilbron, with shrapnel bursting right and left of them. a small number of burghers still made an effort to hold a kopje, but they were driven from it by the shells of the maxim-nordenfeldt. wherever a horseman or a burgher was seen there the shells burst, and so the english paved their way to heilbron, which they entered before noon. we came to a standstill at klip river to the east of heilbron. but not all the burghers stopped there, for so discouraged were a few that they rode away to their farms. general de wet, who arrived on the scene after the fight, was very indignant about this, and immediately sent some burghers to compel them to return. and here sat our party--there were five of us, general c. j. de villiers, his son christian, andries pretorius, my son, and i. our party, i say, sat by a brook that was honoured by the name of river, and thought of our troubles. we thought also of the demands of nature, and began to prepare some food. whatever we might have to eat would be relished, for now for the first time since we had left the waggons were we able to boil some water. but let me here give a description of our manner of life. it can be easily understood that we could not carry much with us on horseback. we had, besides our blankets and some clothes, a kettle and an iron linseed-oil drum, with a handle made of wire. this drum had to do duty as cooking-pot. besides this we also carried a saucepan. we had only three pannikins between us five, and two had to wait until two had finished. there were also a couple of little bags in which we carried our rations of meat, meal, salt, and coffee. in the drum the meat, and also the mealie-meal porridge, was cooked. the latter we ate together out of the pot, scooping it up with our clasp-knives, in the way the kaffirs do with their wooden spoons. we afterwards saw that spoons answered better, and so made our own wooden ones. the meat we had to take up with our hands instead of with a fork, and we ate it from the lid of the saucepan or from a slice of bread. at nights there was nothing but the canopy of heaven over us. mostly the stars with their friendly light shone brightly on us from on high. sometimes large masses of clouds floated between them and us, and hid their kindly light. now and then all was swallowed up in utter darkness, while the thunder roared, and we were drenched to the skin. whatever the weather might be we spread a skin or a blanket on the grass, with our saddles at our heads to ward off the wind, and slept sound till next morning. general de villiers had a tanned ox hide with which, in accordance with the custom which had been followed by his father, he had provided himself, and i slept beside him on it. i was in good company. the kindness of general de villiers and his party i shall never forget. so things went on from day to day and from month to month; and how swiftly those days and months passed! however monotonous it seemed to exist from one moment to another, and however far off the future seemed, yet the time sped like the flight of an arrow, and the past was swallowed up in the present before we seemed to have time to realise it. we halted for the night at the farm of janneke. next morning i went to sit under the trees to note down my experiences. it was a lovely day. spring had like a mysterious incomprehensible force wholly changed the face of nature. the brown grass had been changed to green; the trees were covered with young and tender leaves; the birds chirped in the branches, and the bees hummed around in the blossoms. how restful everything was there! how different from the previous day, when the cannon filled the air with dissonant shrieks, and the shells burst all about us. i could not realise that a terrible war was raging in our land. everything was so still, so full of rest. yet it was war, not peace. alas! what brought me, a man of peace in every sense of the word, on the field of battle? on saturday general philip botha joined us. he immediately took the command; but during the first days following, general de wet had the direction of everything, until we were led by him across the railway, not far from wolvehoek station. we had to travel fast to accomplish this, for news had come that the english were present in large numbers at elandskop and other places. on saturday night we rode till twelve o'clock. the following day we assembled for our usual divine service, and when it got dark we again proceeded. we travelled during the whole night. this was slow work on account of the cannon, the ammunition waggons, and a couple of trolleys carrying provisions. how sleepy i became now that we had to keep awake for two nights in succession. it seemed to me sometimes, as i sat on horseback, as if the broad brim of my hat were the roof of a big tent, of which, as sometimes happens when the weather is warm, the sides had been lifted, and that the burghers in front of me were moving on under its roof with a rhythmic motion. i had every now and then to look up to the stars in order to shake off the illusion. we had to wait now and then for those who lagged behind, and then we would throw ourselves on the ground and immediately fall asleep. how fortunate those people must be who have such strong constitutions that they can endure everything without sleep, and apparently never suffer from fatigue. there were such amongst us now. they were ever on the alert and woke up the slumbering ones when it was time to proceed again. things went thus till daylight broke, when we crossed first the branch line from wolvehoek to heilbron, and then the main line. some of our scouts paid a visit to an english guard and disarmed them. we had thus fortunately got across the line with all our belongings--all except one or two waggons; among these an ammunition waggon remained behind. when the drivers came near the railway an armoured train had made its appearance, and so they had to turn back. out of this train fire was opened on those who had already crossed, but no casualty occurred. but i had lost all my clothes. to spare my horses i had placed my little all on the ammunition waggon which remained behind, and now i had nothing more than what i had on and what was in my saddle-bag. after we had been off-saddled for a while, general de wet proceeded to vredefort with his bodyguard. he invited me to accompany him, and i had the pleasure of being in his company for three hours. i asked myself, as i rode by his side, what could be the secret of his power? and it appeared to me that it lay in this--that while he was friendly to all, he was intimate with none. moreover, as is the case with all great leaders of men, he was as reticent as the sphinx. in the afternoon we reached vredefort. how pleasant it was to me to find myself once more in the house of a brother minister, between the four walls of his study, and to forget for a while the blue canopy of the skies above and the hills and dales below. chapter ix on the wide plains yes, i did enjoy it! to spend twenty-four hours in a house, for since the nd of august i had never slept under a roof. what luxury!--a soft bed and a bath in the morning. but how numerous are the demands of civilisation! i had of course to breakfast with the family, and there the table was laid with snowy linen and neatly folded serviettes. ah me! how did i behave after having had to manage with my clasp-knife on the grass for so long? still, it charmed me. the old instinct again awoke. a fork was better after all than one's fingers, and sitting on a chair in the study than on an anthill in the veld. the transformation took place with lightning rapidity. i was myself again. this was my world. out yonder i was a stranger, but here i was at home; and it was like being rent from a part of myself when at three o'clock i once more joined the commando. we proceeded between the kopjes that surround vredefort on the north-west. there beautiful scenery and the scent of the thorn-tree blossoms repaid me in some measure for the comforts i had to relinquish beneath the roof of the rev. j. a. joubert. but when at evening the hills and thorn-trees lay behind us on the horizon, and we had to lie down to rest by a dam on particularly large tufts of grass, i could well realise that something indeed had been sacrificed for the great cause of liberty and independence. here on the following morning general de wet called the burghers together and read to them a notice which he had issued for the information of the enemy. this notice was to the effect that where troops were caught in the act of burning houses, and carrying off defenceless women and children, those troops would be shot. he then asked me to address the men, as it was that day just a year since they had been commandeered. i complied, and took as my text the words: "if i forget thee, o jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning"; and presented the israelite in his fervent patriotism as an example to them. general de wet immediately after left us with the commandos of heilbron and vrede, and we trekked away under general botha in the direction of the rhenoster river. before nightfall we reached it, and found there a part of the bethlehem commando that had just returned from the bush veld, whither they had accompanied general de wet. these burghers joined us, and we trekked along together, until, shortly after, they left us and proceeded to their own district. how delightful it was there in the densely wooded banks of the rhenoster river. great wild willows and old thorn-trees grew along the placid stream, and lent an inexpressible air of peace and rest to the place. we stayed here for the night, lit great fires of the dry wood, and broiled meat as it can only be done on the live coals of thorn-tree wood. on the following day we departed from this beautiful spot, and soon the wide sand plains stretched around us, dreary in their monotony. it is a wearisome thing travelling on these wilds. you see nothing but long, low, rolling undulations. in the distance there arises one like an immovable wave in an immovable sea. after an hour's ride--for a commando does not move rapidly--you have reached it, and then in the distance there is another exactly like the one behind you. and yet, however much the wearied spirit seeks some change, and however dreary these wastes seem, they speak to the heart of him who understands their language. abandoning oneself to their mysterious influence, one forgets that they are monotonous, as they whisper, softly as the evening breeze which wafts across their broad bosoms, of the infinite. the mountains fill one with awe and veneration--even so the region where the horizon seems ever to be beyond one's reach. on friday, th of october, we were on the banks of the valsch river and camped there. some days after we trekked to the farm of mr. b. greyling. from there the commando went to the shop of mr. harvey at otterspruit, but as it looked like rain, i accepted the kind invitation of mr. greyling, and remained under his roof for the night. we stopped at harvey's shop on sunday and monday, and a few burghers were punished there because they had entered the shop and helped themselves to what they thought they wanted. we had a man in command who allowed no irregularities, and the discipline in the commando was perfect. here i washed my clothes myself, as i had to do often later on. as i had no change, i had to remain at the spruit until what i had washed had got dry. i thought of the future with misgivings. "what should we eat, and what should we drink?" did not trouble me; but "wherewithal should we be clothed?" that filled me with uneasiness. we had, as we were marching along, heard occasionally that everywhere in the state the civil administration of the english had ceased. the patrols of two or three mounted police did not visit the farms any more. nor were any taxes collected any more from the boers on their farms or the kaffirs in their kraals. since the time about the taking of ladybrand, it had begun to be impossible for small numbers of the english to go from farm to farm, and to carry out the kind of government which obtains when there is peace in a country. if they wanted now to go from district to district they could not do so otherwise than in numbers of about men, and always with cannon. this was a new proof to us that it was impossible for england to fight us on an equal footing. we were far from being conquered. it soon became evident that we were going to come in contact with the enemy, for, not far from us upon a hillock to the south-east of kopje alleen, a force moved now and again out from kroonstad. this little hill lay on our road to the railway, and it was desirable that we should not be prevented there from carrying out the object we had in view. general botha therefore advanced in that direction on monday evening. on the following day it was discovered that there were no english on the hill, and a patrol was left there. in the evening the commando went to the farm of old mr. delport, where we remained five days, for it was general botha's intention to begin his real work of interrupting the communications here. on the following night, therefore, he proceeded to the railway, and broke it up not far from ventersburg road station. i was glad to be able to remain here some days, because, as my son was ill, he could thus remain under the care of mrs. delport and her daughter. when we left he was well again. i owe much gratitude to this kind family. on sunday, the th october, a fight took place. i had held services first for the harrismith, and then for the kroonstad men, and had just returned from the latter when a report arrived from the patrol on the hill that a number of english had driven them away and taken possession of the kopje. general botha immediately advanced against them, whilst a small number of burghers went with the trolleys we had to the farm of mr. taljaart. general botha attacked from two sides, and after a short fight drove the english from the kopje to the camp at ventersburg road station. the loss of the english was estimated at four dead and thirteen wounded, and two were taken prisoners. we had no casualties. the following day we went to the beautiful farm of mr. hendrik delport. he had created an oasis in the dreary sand flats. it was refreshing to see the green willows growing here on the wall of the dam, and to walk beneath the healthy fruit trees of the garden. we camped beside the dam wall, and enjoyed the pleasure of being protected by the shade of the willow-trees from the burning rays of the sun. that night, whilst we were wrapped in peaceful slumbers under the trees, we were awakened by the wild sound of horses' hoofs. my first idea was that it was the enemy making a night attack upon us. i expected every moment to hear the report of rifle shots, and visions of imprisonment arose in my mind. there was a commandant ill in a waggon which mr. delport had hidden between the trees. he put out his head through the waggon-flap and asked his sons-- "children, what is this?" it was not the enemy! it had been our own horses which had rushed panic-stricken to our laager. what it was that had frightened them nobody knew, but it was supposed to have been some game that had come to drink at the dam. _repos ailleurs!_ it was not to be our lot to rest for long, or to remain for any length of time under the shade of the green willows. the next day a report came that "khaki"--the word was often used without an article--was coming, and some burghers again went to meet them. but it was only five or six of the enemy who were reconnoitring, and our burghers drove them back to their camp. on the day after a considerable number came out with cannon. general botha ordered the commando to retire, which we did in the direction of hoopstad. it was not long before the enemy attacked our rearguard, but they were driven back with a loss of fifteen dead and wounded; while, on our side, one man was wounded, and general botha got a scratch on the hand. our burghers, seeing the enemy retiring, became rash and charged. the results might have been disastrous for us, for reinforcements with a gun and a maxim unexpectedly turned up, and our people were very nearly surrounded. general botha then had to retire. to continue the fight against superior numbers, armed, moreover, with guns, was not to be thought of, and he resolved to outwit the english. he therefore marched till far into the night in the direction of hoopstad, and the english followed us. what difficulty i had to get my bearings on those wide level plains, with no kopje or mountain to serve as beacons! i knew very well that we were proceeding in a north-westerly direction, yet it seemed to me as if we were going due north. what surprised me exceedingly was that the burghers never seemed to be at a loss. they always knew the direction, north, east, south, or west--they could instantly say where these lay. "where is east?" "there!" "where must we look for harrismith?" "yonder!" "bloemfontein?" "there!" just lay your map open on the grass to-morrow and see if they were not right. it is because their view has not been narrowed by maps. the four winds of heaven are their compass, the stars their beacons. the following night we marched until it was very late, and had to wait as usual for the waggons. during these halts the men flung themselves on the ground, and invariably fell fast asleep. when the order came to mount there was sometimes a little confusion. a lad of sixteen, who was still half-asleep, mounted his horse; a thud as of something soft falling on the ground was heard. as it was very dark, we did not know what it meant; but some close by explained that the boy, poor fellow, not being well awake, instead of getting astride, had got right over his horse and landed on the other side. when we had proceeded to thirty miles from hoopstad, we turned suddenly on the third night at such an acute angle that our route ran almost parallel with that by which we had come. on the following morning we reached the shop of jelleman, and learned during the course of the day that the english were still persistently following up their original course. they had not then adopted the flying-column system, and went on with their encumbrance of large convoys, with an impetus very much like that of an elephant which, when charging, cannot make a short turn. this enabled general botha to carry out his manoeuvre successfully. the following day was sunday, the st of october. we were then at the farm of mr. singleton on the way back to the railway. it was a lovely day, and very refreshing to hold service there under the trees at a dam. here an attack had been made on us the previous night, which we had been unable to resist. i shall describe it. there had been a strong wind the day before with signs of rain, and we had prepared ourselves as well as we could for a wet night. but it did not rain--something else happened: an attack--oh, that the muse of aristophanes inspire me while i record this--an attack of frogs! we had lain down to sleep near the dam, and shortly after we had retired to rest the frogs came out of the water. perhaps the strong wind, causing a movement in the waters, had sent them forth. they came in large numbers and leaped about to their hearts' content. here one tumbled on the blanket of a sleeper, there another placed his wet feet on the face of another, and you heard screams in the darkness, as of persons shrinking back from cold baths. it was thought that the attack could be repulsed by blows from hats and boots. but the amphibious enemy had not the least inclination to sound the retreat. they unceasingly renewed the attack, and were continually being supported by fresh reinforcements from the dam. the issue at length hung in the balance, and the shame of a possible defeat filled us with apprehension. woe is me! the human beings retreated. here one man snatched up his bedding and fled--and there another. i must record it. our warriors lost the battle, and were forced to evacuate their positions before an attack of--frogs!! in the afternoon we proceeded. nothing of interest took place. each day we travelled some distance. the red sand of the desert was in evidence, and the level plains remained as dreary as ever. it was very dry, and the heat was often very fatiguing. water was procurable from dams and wells only; the water of the former was often dirty, and that of the latter brackish. we had often to drink where our horses drank, and where the geese and ducks swam. on one occasion, after we had boiled our small kettles and drunk our corn coffee, we heard that we had made coffee with the water of a dam in which shortly before some soldiers had bathed! how dreary it is to be in a country where there are no springs and no streams. in the course of our wanderings through the sandy plains we came to the farm of a man named stiglingh, and there i saw for the first time what a farm looked like where the english had burnt down the house. there stood the walls with black borders to the doors and windows and along the gables, proving that the building had been a prey to the flames. the tops of the trees before the house were scorched, and a vine lay half torn from the wall against which the owner had trained it. it was dreadful within to go from room to room and view the total destruction there. the heaps of ashes showed that the devastation was complete. and what was the effect of this spectacle on the burghers? fear? dismay?--no, resistance! everyone who contemplated the ruins only felt the more deeply the wrong that was done to our people. here was a nation which prided itself on its love of freedom, depriving a little people of their independence; and doing this in the most cruel manner, robbing them of their cattle and destroying their dwellings. indignation and a sterner resolve to resist were aroused by the sight of the ruin. those black borders round the gaping windows and doors conjured us not to lay down our arms and beg for mercy; no, but to keep the war going. the enemy had shattered all hopes of reconciliation. i will describe how the house-burning was generally done. a burning party of the british came on a farm, and the soldiers would begin by chasing the poultry about and killing them. the officer in command immediately gave the occupants a short time to carry out food and clothing. the time given was usually so short that they were still busy carrying out things when the flames would burst forth. the incendiaries generally put the chairs and benches on the dining-room table, tore down the curtains from the windows and stuffed them in between the chairs. then paraffin oil was squirted over everything, and the light applied. soon dense clouds of smoke arose and the house was in flames. the head of the house here--so his wife told me--was ill when the burning took place. notwithstanding that he was taken prisoner. his wife--for the english had not yet begun to capture women--had to take refuge in an outhouse and stable with her children, where i found her, subsisting on meat and mealies. we left this farm in the afternoon with the object of crossing the railway that night. kopje alleen soon hove in sight, and we passed it, leaving it on our right. kopje alleen! is there elsewhere on earth a geographical object so insignificant, but glorying in such world-wide fame, as thou. o kopje alleen! i call to mind how, thirty years ago, i heard of thee, and travelling towards thee, i counted the days which would pass before i should behold thee, and be filled with admiration. at last thou didst loom on the horizon! but i could not believe that it was thou, kopje alleen, whose fame had spread far and wide--thou mere mole on the face of the veld. but a cripple is an easy first among lame people; and here thou standest, monarch of the undulations of the sandy plains. the thorn-trees here, the red sand in the road, the hard tufts of grass in the veld, all reminded me of the neighbourhood of kimberley--and i was not surprised to learn that the diamond mine of mr. minter was close by. having off-saddled a little while near the flat hill where there had been a fight the week before, we went on in order to cross the line before daybreak. what sensations arise within one when such a task has to be undertaken. will there be patrols of the enemy on the line? will shots be fired? will there be confusion? these are questions we ask ourselves. but we must suppress our emotions, and whatever there may be in store for us we must be prepared for everything. this night march was similar to the others. we saw the southern cross shining in the skies. in the east there rose first the pleiades, then orion, then sirius, and still we went on and on; but how slowly, owing to the waggons and carts lagging far behind. the sky above was constantly changing. the southern cross which had set rose again, and at last sirius shot down his rays perpendicularly upon us, and yet we had not reached the railway line. and then, to our high-strung nerves how loud seemed every sound in the stillness of the night,--the order had been given that we should proceed in the greatest silence, but what a noise the trolleys and carts made, and how loudly the pots and pans which were carried on the carts and pack-horses sounded; and oh! why did those three foals whinny so incessantly? we felt sure that the english had become aware by all these noises of our coming, and were waiting for us at the line. thus three parts of the night passed away. "how far is it still?" we asked. "half an hour!" is the reply. after half an hour we ask again, "and how far is it now?" "three-quarters of an hour!" suddenly a sharp point of light glints in the east. it must be a patrol fire. no, it is the morning star, and before long the rosy dawn begins to tint the eastern horizon! after all, we shall not reach the line before daylight. but there the leading horses are beginning to halt at a little gate. we reach it and pass through. the horses grind small stones under their hoofs. in the twilight we see two rails pass under us--we have crossed the railroad! there were no english to hinder us in our march over, and from the side of ventersburg station, where their camp was, they could not now advance, because our corps of scouts had at midnight destroyed the line between them and us. general botha now restricted himself to breaking down the telegraph poles, and destroying the wire for the distance of a thousand yards. we now proceeded to the beautiful farm of mr. minter. nothing happened excepting that shots were fired at some soldiers, who had gone out from the camp near the station to reconnoitre. when we crossed the railway we left behind the wide sandy plains, and we wished them farewell with all our hearts. general botha intended now to make attacks on the enemy from the south side of the line. chapter x ventersburg it had been extremely warm all the time we spent on the sand plains, and on the day that we crossed the railway line the heat was intense. in the evening a dark mass of clouds rose to the west. lightning flashed from them, and we heard rolling in the distance. the burghers had to make preparations against the rain which would certainly fall. blankets were spread on the ground, and those who possessed them spread their small canvas tents, remnants of those supplied them by the government in the beginning of the war. some had small patrol tents. as far as our party was concerned, we five crowded into a small carbineer's tent intended for two. there we passed the night, half sitting, half lying, listening to the beating of the rain without. when we arose the following morning our limbs were so cramped that it seemed as if old age had suddenly overtaken us during the night.--nothing causes more discomfort to a horse-commando than rain. during this week we travelled a very short distance. towards the end of the week we were on the farm of isaac cronje. his wife and her sister showed great kindness to the men, and i was very glad to take refuge from the rain under her roof on saturday night. that evening-- th of october--general botha went to the railway line with a number of burghers. early in the morning he surprised the enemy in their camp at ventersburg road station, and soldiers were disarmed. while these soldiers were laying down their arms, one of them seized his rifle and fired on the burghers, wounding assistant commandant jan meyer in the arm and hand, and burgher nortje in the hand. just at this juncture a train was captured, and our men were busy taking from it what they needed and setting it on fire when an armoured train with a cannon bore down on them. the burghers were compelled to leave everything and to retreat in hot haste. two other burghers were also wounded. i bandaged them, but as the wounds appeared to me to be rather serious i requested the general to call in the aid of doctor snijman of ventersburg. the doctor was good enough to come, attended to the wounded men, and instructed me how to treat them further. the patients remained under my care until later on they got assistance from medical men. the following day there was a report that the english were moving out from their camp. we rode out in the direction where they were said to be, but it proved to be a false alarm. however, it was seen that they were making such movements that general botha deemed it necessary to order the whole commando to take up a position for the night, and the waggons were ordered southward early in the morning. our burghers accordingly took positions on a ridge. when day broke they observed that the british were on the same ridge. what their object was we did not know. the day was ushered in by a tremendous fire of small arms, and in between came the thunder of the british guns. a raking fire from both sides was kept up for half an hour, and our men managed to put the gunners of one of the cannon out of action. unfortunately our right wing was in danger of being surrounded, and had to retire, with the result that the general could not profit from the success that had been gained on the left. here again the positions had to be abandoned. on we went, without being followed up, to paddafontein. the burghers spent a very unpleasant time there. on the second day after we came it began to rain at sundown. showers fell steadily for two nights and a day. what discomfort a mounted commando has to suffer while it rains. some of the men have tents, only a few have carts, the rest, the majority, must manage as best they could. they get wet through from the drops falling from above, and when they lie down the water flows in below. and then there are the horses seeking shelter behind the carts and tents, treading mud puddles all over the camp. on the morning after the first night the general saw that the commando could not remain thus in the rain, and he ordered the officers to seek shelter for the burghers on the neighbouring farms. i had already found refuge in the house of mr. potgieter, and during the bad weather i passed a pleasant time with the books of mr. fairclough, the schoolmaster there. our wounded also found shelter here. at this place i found that there were six or seven families of fugitives from the burnt-down houses. amongst them there was a woman who had recently given birth to a child in the open veld, when along with other women she sought shelter, after her house was burnt. on monday the burghers reassembled; general botha had meanwhile been about everywhere in the neighbourhood. he had seen many burnt-down houses. they also showed me a notice signed by general bruce-hamilton, which had been posted on the houses that had been destroyed; general bruce-hamilton said in this notice that he had "partially" burnt the town ventersburg and also the farms in the neighbourhood, because the boers had made attacks upon the railway. the "boer women," so ran this notice further, "should apply to the boer commandants for food, who will supply them, unless they wish to see them starve!" in the evening we proceeded to lools spruit where at one glance i saw no less than six burnt-down houses. the following day, the th of november, i went with general botha to ventersburg. it was sad to pass through the burnt-down part of the town, and to see the houses roofless, and with gaping doors and windows.--and what effect had it all? the burning of the town and the farmhouses near the railway did not stop the burghers from attacking the lines of communication of the english. our people would not in this way be forced into submission. even upon the women this action had not the effect which the enemy contemplated. i met several of them in the town, they were calm and resigned under their severe sufferings, and told me that they had, on the evening before the fire, held a prayer-meeting, and that they had been supported and consoled by god in a wonderful manner. the period of the forcible removement of our women into concentration camps had not yet come, and now there were many women at ventersburg requiring support. for this purpose, general botha had sheep and wheat sent to them. he left them in charge of mr. albert williams. they could not have been intrusted into better hands. he was an honest and energetic man, and possessed, moreover, a heart ever open to the weak and suffering; unfortunately he was killed in a fight a few months after. i felt his death very keenly, and it is now a sad consolation to me to have been able to speak of his fine, unselfish character. we remained in the neighbourhood of ventersburg until the following sunday, when i held service for the women there; and in the afternoon we went on our way, with the object--although that was as yet unknown to the burghers--of proceeding to the cape colony. some days before we began our journey our company was temporarily broken up by the departure of general de villiers to the district of harrismith. as he was suffering from an internal complaint, which made it difficult for him to ride on horseback, he went away to fetch his waggonette. i then attached myself to assistant commandant jan meyer. we had heard towards the end of the week of what had happened to general de wet at bothasville. this did not tend to cheer us, but at the same time we were not discouraged. not only had every tendency to the despair which had taken possession of us at nauwpoort disappeared, but we had also in general botha a leader who inspired his men. i have never seen him show any signs of despondency, and the burghers had faith in him. we began, then, to move southwards. we proceeded with the greatest speed, and on wednesday evening, the th of november, camped at the farm of mr. hans bormann at korannaberg. president steyn and general de wet had, after the occurrence at bothasville, also travelled south, and arrived where we were that same evening. before retiring for the night i met the president. he had much to tell about his adventures in the transvaal, and of his remarkable escape at bothasville. i admired his courage and cheerfulness, and thought of how much we should be indebted to him, if ever god should see fit to grant us our independence. chapter xi with general de wet to the orange river--the taking of de wet's dorp on the following day the president and general de wet addressed the burghers, and informed them that they were to go to the cape colony. on that same afternoon, the th of november, the march thither commenced. it was touching to see, however contrary to the desire of many free staters it was, how eager the colonists among us were to start. one of them sitting on his horse, said to a friend of his seated on a cart drawn by two mules, "yes, john, though it be only with mules, still, every step is a step nearer!" the intention was to go that evening to a store at brand's drift, but on the way we heard that the english were there, and we spent the night on a ridge to the left of the road. on the next day we proceeded, and passed the store without any mishap; for the english had either gone away, or had not been there. in some heavy showers of rain we continued our journey to newberry's mill, and there we halted for some hours. the weather cleared up in the afternoon, and we saddled our horses shortly before sunset, with the object of passing through sprinkhaans nek[ ] that same night. but general de wet knew that the english had forts there, and that in all probability this could not be done without coming into contact with the enemy. he therefore sent the burgher frank van reenen with a white flag to the fort nearest to the route we should have to take, with a message that if it did not surrender we should have to take more drastic measures. as was to be expected, the english refused this demand, and the fort was thereupon bombarded. [footnote : so the ridge was named near zwartlapberg ever since the famous passage of the th december . sprinkhaans nek proper lies somewhat farther north.] darkness fell, and while general botha with a number of men was attacking the fort, the rest of the commando with the carts and waggons passed through to the eastward. the bullets from the fort whistled over those passing by, and assistant commandant meyer, who sat in a cart, was again wounded. but beyond this, except that some horses were hit, we passed through without any loss. the object not being to take the fort, but to get through the nek, general botha was called back as soon as the commando was safely through. we encamped a short distance from zwartlapberg. mr. pontsma of the netherlands ambulance in the transvaal joined us in the nek, and i was glad to hand over the wounded to his care. early the following morning we went forward. we passed through what was formerly maroko's territory. here we had no trouble from wire en-closures or gates. what peaceable people the barolong kaffirs must be not to require that peace-maker "barbed wire." our road now led us across the sources of the modder river, and on sunday, the th november, we rested, and held service about six miles from de wet's dorp, while general botha went to reconnoitre the forts of the english garrison stationed at that town. during the following two days we went from farm to farm, but remained in the neighbourhood of the town, and on tuesday night the general commenced the attack from three sides. he ordered general botha to take possession of a high hill on the southwest of the town, while commandant lategun was told to approach from the west. he himself with commandant de vos took the ridge on the north of the town. early the following morning the outlying forts were bombarded by our cannon, as well as harassed by our rifles. a few burghers were wounded early in the fight and brought to the laager. on the day after, the attack was proceeded with, and we had the pleasure of seeing several important forts taken. but the chief work was done on the following day, friday, rd november. nearer and nearer our men approached, steadily drawing the cordon round the british closer, and it was a very great satisfaction to general de wet to see that he had men under him who carried out his plans. no attack certainly was better planned or better carried out than this during the whole war. in the course of the day commandant de vos and field-cornet baljon took a fort, in which a lieutenant with twenty men had to surrender. but the grandest work was done by field-cornet (afterwards general) wessel wessels, who was under general botha,--to him the honour must be accorded of taking most of the forts. his method of attack was as follows. he gave his men orders to direct a heavy fire on the loopholes of a fort he wished to take. this rendered it impossible for the defenders to fire, and gave him the opportunity of rushing swiftly with a few men to the fort. there he lay down under the loopholes, out of the fire. from this point of vantage he called out "hands up!" and in this manner he took all the forts that fell to his share. from position to position the british were driven, until at last the town was in our possession! in the afternoon there were only three forts still held by them. these had now to be taken, and the danger to our burghers was very great, especially in the storming of one of them! field-cornet wessels was ordered to attack it from the town side, and he began, when the sun was already rapidly sinking in the west, to approach it from a donga. we should undoubtedly have lost very heavily here if the english had opposed us any longer, for the ravine along which field-cornet wessels approached afforded little or no shelter, but just as the sun was setting the white flag was hoisted. de wet's dorp was taken. the loss of the english was killed and wounded. eight officers and men were taken prisoners, and we captured two armstrong guns, one maxim-nordenfeldt, and a great deal of ammunition and provisions. our loss was seven killed and fourteen wounded. the english said that it was an overwhelming number of boers that compelled this garrison to surrender; but it is certain that not more than men took part in the attack. for, in the first place, all the burghers were not taken from the laager; but patrols also had to be sent in all directions to see if the enemy were not sending reinforcements. how ready the english always were to magnify our numbers when they suffered defeat. we were generally, according to their reports, "small, roving, sniping bands"; but when anything happened to them, like the taking of a town, we were transformed as if by magic into "_overwhelming numbers_"! we were all greatly elated, and the president was of opinion that we ought to hold a thanksgiving service. it was agreed that this should take place on the following sunday in the church, but we were hindered in this through the arrival of a hostile reinforcement from edenburg, which immediately occupied the attention of general de wet. the laager then trekked to plat kop, taking the prisoners along with it. we remained there, while a considerable number of burghers went to meet the enemy. as, however, it was not our purpose to fight in the free state, but to invade the cape colony, the reinforcements were left where they were, while the laager and all the men trekked on monday far into the night in the direction of breipaal and klein-bloemfontein. that night the prisoners complained that they were made to march too far, but general de wet reminded them some marches of lord roberts were still longer. it was a most dreary trek across wide plains, and we were not in a particularly happy mood when we arose the following morning, none too early. we were still busy with our breakfasts when we heard a cry that the english were at our heels. and such indeed was the case. there was only one ridge between us and the enemy. presently the bullets were dropping into the laager. confusion followed, and the majority wanted to do nothing but flee. it was only with great trouble that the officers managed to get the men into position. there was also trouble with the prisoners. they thought that they would now be relieved. they shouted, hurrah! refused to go on, and sought shelter from the bullets of their friends behind a stone wall. but the stern bearing of our officers and the determination of their guards compelled them to continue the march. the laager got away, and we went on to hex river berg and across the sources of riet river, still in the direction of breipaal. in the night we passed treur kop, and halted on mr. heper's farm. in the meanwhile the english had left us, and had gone towards smithfield. the country through which we now travelled presented a dreary appearance on account of the prevailing drought. the veld was yellow and scorched by the sun, and when we halted for a while on the farm i have just mentioned, the west wind sang a mournful ditty over the parched country. i remarked upon the cheerless aspect of our surroundings, and mr. louw wepener remarked that it must surely have been on such a day that the hill, which we had passed during the night, was named "treur kop" (hill of mourning). on the following day we reached klein-bloemfontein, and remained there the following day also. here a council of war was held for the purpose of trying a man named van der berg and a number of kaffirs who had been captured at de wet's dorp. van der berg was sentenced to death, and the kaffirs were set at liberty with a message to lorothodi, their chief, that as we were not at war with him, and as we wished to remain on good terms with him and his people, we sent his men back as proof of our friendship: that we hoped besides that he would remain strictly neutral, and prove this by advising his men not to enter into the service of the british. i discovered that the court had not been unanimous in sentencing van der berg to death, and i therefore deemed it my duty to ask the president to order a revision of the matter. he was willing to do so, and the council of war again took the matter into consideration, with the result, however, that the death sentence was confirmed by a majority of one vote. the papers were handed to the government for final decision. the sentence was not carried out. the veld yielded very little pasturage here for our horses. a long time had elapsed since it had last rained, and the grass was withered. our horses and mules had therefore to live almost exclusively on the forage which we could get on the farms. they had still some on the st of december, but after that they had nothing but a little chaff for five days. they had therefore to subsist on the herbage which grew between the tufts of grass. it was marvellous to see the effect of this pasture on the sheep of these parts. their flesh was almost too fat to eat; but our horses, not being used to this kind of veld, could not live on the shrubs which fattened the sheep. on sunday, nd december, we trekked to tafel kop, not far from bethulie. there we would have held divine service had it been possible, but we could not, as there was a small english laager on the farm goede hoop, and a number of burghers set out for the purpose of taking it. they did not, however, succeed, and had to remain on the ridges to the north-east, while the rest of the commando trekked through slikspruit. the fight was continued the following day, when an adjutant of general de wet, whose name was also de wet, was killed. at two o'clock we were ordered to proceed to the caledon river. it was not a moment too soon, for another english force was approaching from the west, and their shrapnels dropped a little way behind the trekking laager. we continued till dark, and then we waited, our horses saddled, and the mules in harness, until all the burghers were able to leave the positions. it had rained a little in the afternoon, and while we waited there, dark clouds lowered, and it seemed as if the drought had come to an end. presently some showers fell, and we expected to have a wet night. and so it turned out, for shortly after we had resumed our march the darkness became more intense, and the rain descended in heavy showers. the light of morning ushered in a clouded sky, and we had the cheerless prospect of a soaking day and a difficult march. in the rain we passed the beautiful farm carmel, belonging to mr. wessels, and proceeded without a halt until we had crossed the caledon river at the farm of old mr. du plessis. here also there was no forage. mr. du plessis said that the english had passed there twice and had with a lavish hand used up the forage. our horses already began to suffer from hunger, and our rapid march was exhausting them greatly. at two o'clock general de wet ordered us to resume our journey, and this was done in the rain. unfortunately the horses of the krupp gun had knocked up, and it was left behind at the river. when general de wet heard this on the following day he was very angry; for the gun should have been brought on at any cost. in the evening the vanguard of the commando had reached a range of hills about two miles from the drift across the orange river at odendalstroom. a field-cornet was ordered in the evening to go forward, to open up the road into the cape colony. but the heavy travelling in the wet weather had detained us so, that the darkness setting in as we approached the drift made this impossible. we therefore had to halt at the hills above referred to. i broke off some twigs from the shrubs, spread the ox-skin upon them, and thus on the soaking ground i lay down to rest. it rained softly almost the whole night, and on the following morning the bedding of almost all the men was wet through. our horses looked miserably worn, after the rain and the forced marches. those who accompany general de wet must be prepared for such things. from the ridges on which we were we could see some tents. they belonged to the english guard, and stood on the opposite side of the river, not three miles away. the prisoners-of-war were released here ( th december), but the officers were still retained. towards ten o'clock we advanced, but--it was not to cross the orange river, for it was in flood and a passage was impossible. and we could not remain where we were until the river became passable, for the english were pursuing us very closely. there remained therefore no other way for general de wet than, for the present, to turn his back upon the cape colony. his disappointment must have been great. we now turned our faces northward towards the town of smithfield. i thought with sympathy of the colonists who were with us. no doubt many of them had seen, on the other side, natural objects well known to them, and now they had to be content with the sight of them only. for them every step now was not nearer, but farther away. chapter xii between two full rivers the weather had cleared up beautifully. the air was deliciously cool and bracing. everything, as is usual after rain, seemed to revive. but shortly after midday clouds rose again in the west, and a violent shower of rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, fell by way of farewell. at night all was clear again, and the stars shone brightly. we had got to smith's rest. at midnight we were roused. the report had come that the english were pursuing us very closely. immediately we saddled and inspanned. we ploughed on through the mud, and so gained on the enemy. a little after sunrise we outspanned and rested for a short time. before noon we were again on the move to get out of reach of the foe. the veld was more beautiful than the day before. a carpet of green stretched out all around, and that served much to cheer us. but our poor horses were not invigorated. they suffered terribly from hunger, and could not yet graze on the short young pasture. the consequence was that, already then, some had become so exhausted that they had to be left behind. this was the case with the horse lent to me by mr. adriaan dolebout--that faithful animal so sure-footed, and never needing either spur or whip! it had travelled through long winter nights without any sign apparently of fatigue; it had often rescued my son from danger! and now it had to be left behind! with great emotion charlie took the halter from its head, and when it remained behind exhausted, it still neighed a farewell to the pony that had been its companion since the nd of august. proceeding, we saw beautiful landscapes spreading out before us. to the left just above the horizon, aasvogel kop raised its head; right before us towered the proud wolve kop, whilst to the right in the purple distance we saw gnoesberg and aasvogelberg standing sentinels over zastron. and everywhere before us, behind us, and on both sides of us were the hills, rejoicing in their newly acquired garment of green. at first we marched straight towards wolve kop, but when we got near to that mountain we suddenly turned to the left, and off-saddled for a while at a farm where we got one bundle of forage--only one--for each horse. this was the first forage for five days. in the evening we went on some distance farther. it soon appeared now that we could not choose to go either to the left or to the right to avoid the english. we were between two full rivers; for the caledon had also become swollen after we had crossed it. still less could we come to a halt, for the force which pursued us had so greatly increased, that to fight was out of the question. besides, the english had a great many cannons. our scouts estimated that there were about twenty-five guns. the english themselves, as we learned later from the newspapers, gave a larger number. there was therefore no time to delay, more especially as the enemy often was not farther away from us than nine miles. on the second day after we had turned at odendalstroom we went forward with the purpose of crossing the caledon with the bridge. we knew that there was a guard there, but for a force like ours they did not amount to much. they might be driven away. and so we began to bombard them. it was soon seen, however, that the guard could not be driven off before the large army which was following us would overtake us, and the plan of crossing over the bridge was abandoned. the state of affairs was indeed critical. general botha called me aside, and advised me to hold myself in readiness to gallop out on horseback if my cart[ ] was in danger of being captured. after some delay near the bridge, nothing remained for us but to go up along the caledon and try to find a ford which would be shallow enough to enable us to cross. we therefore proceeded with the greatest speed, hoping for the best, but constantly apprehensive lest, even if we found a ford, we should be caught up there. [footnote : at ventersburg i had a cart lent me by general botha.] but all went well. at sunset we reached lubbe's drift. a better place to cross we could never have desired, and the river had now also fallen so much that we could pass over without delay. that evening we were for the present out of danger, and here and there one could hear a psalm being sung: a thing that had not occurred during the past week. chapter xiii incessantly harassed by the enemy the enemy continued to pursue us, but not now at such close quarters as on the previous day, and next morning we could proceed more at our leisure. it was also fortunate that we could do this, for otherwise many horses, starved and worn-out by the rapid marches, could not have held out. more than of them had now been abandoned, and some of the burghers had to walk, whilst others led their tired horses. not far from the ford we passed the beautiful farm "zevenfontein" of mr. jacobus swanepoel. the luxuriant growth of the trees before the house and in the orchard testified to the presence of a plenteous supply of water, and that the name "seven fountains" was one well chosen for this farm. formerly this was the site of the mission station "beersheba." having halted here long enough to enable everyone to get some forage for his horses, we went on to the farm of dr. lottery. the following day was sunday, and now, at last, we could hold our long-deferred thanksgiving day. i spoke in my sermon of the despondence of the prophet elijah, and after i had done two of the burghers engaged in prayer. two days after our arrival here we had advanced after nightfall as far as helvetia. there we found plenty of mealies and could feed our horses well. in the course of the day general de villiers had again joined us. he had got his waggon, and had followed us with the commando of commandant hasebroek. they had not been able to pass through sprinkhaans nek, and had had to make a long detour round bloemfontein. i was very glad to meet my old friend once more. we betook ourselves to rest, but restful we were not; for our scouts had reported that the enemy had again come up within a very short distance of us. next morning it became evident that such was the case, for then the english were only a few miles behind us. with the greatest speed we saddled and inspanned and very quickly the laager hurried on, whilst the burghers took up positions to hold back the enemy until the waggons and carts were out of danger. in the meanwhile the english had advanced so rapidly that they were able to fire on the hindmost waggons with a maxim-nordenfeldt. in the confusion caused by this, and the excitement which reigned everywhere, four of the english officers contrived to escape. from time to time our men had to retire before the overwhelming force that pursued us and take up new positions. this went on during the whole day, until we got beyond hex river mountain. during the night the forced marching was continued. general de wet went first of all in a westerly direction towards edenburg, with the object of getting round the english and thus proceeding to the cape colony again; but hearing that there was a force of english he changed his course in the night and went north, and later on east, leaving the village of reddersburg to the left. at daybreak we halted not far from de wet's dorp. it was thus that general de wet managed to keep out of the hands of the enemy. from the place at which we now were, the rest of the english officers were released. they were captured at de wet's dorp, and after a long detour they were set free at the same town. in the night of that same day we reached plat kop, where we in our march to the south had halted for some days after the taking of de wet's dorp. general de wet thought that by having made so wide a turn he would be rid of the enemy for some hours, and he ordered the following morning after breakfast that we should proceed to daspoort in order to have better pasturage for our animals. everybody thought that there was time enough to carry out this order, and began preparing the morning meal leisurely. the majority were still engaged in this when it was reported that the english were on the ridge towards the north-west. we could not believe this, but it was true enough, and presently we heard the crack of rifle fire. again there was a confused flight. some sped east, others south. the maxim-nordenfeldts again played upon the waggons in the rear, and the officers had again the greatest trouble to get the burghers into position. how miserable it is when a laager becomes panic-stricken. at daspoort, therefore, it was impossible to remain. we hurried past and halted some miles from there at a suitable ridge on the farm rietfontein. here general de wet made a demonstration as if he were going to take positions on the ridge and wait there for the english to come; but when it became dark he ordered us to saddle, and the whole commando proceeded with the object of getting through sprinkhaans nek before dawn the following day. a short distance in front of us marched the commando of bethlehem, under commandant michal prinsloo. this commandant had on the previous night come to us through the nek without any mishap, and had now under these circumstances to return immediately. chapter xiv sprinkhaans nek, th december we rode all through the night with our weary and hungry horses. it was a cold night for this time of the year. the wind that blew from the south seemed to cut right through us. we progressed very slowly, as is always the case by night; and this night we seemed to go more slowly than ever, for besides the usual delay caused by the waggons and tired horses, there were many burghers on foot. how slowly we went! zwartlapberg, which we knew we had to pass, loomed a dark and undefined mass on the distant horizon, and seemed to come no nearer. and we began to fear that we should not be able to pass through sprinkhaans nek before daylight. and so it proved. for after we had ridden for hours, all too soon the morning star arose and a long low arc of light suffused all the eastern sky with crimson. rapidly--more rapidly than we wished--the darkness had vanished, and plains at the foot of the mountain we were making for lay all revealed in the growing light of day. we crossed through a rivulet, and when the sun rose we were marching over the slopes below zwartlapberg. though we had hoped to reach that spot before it became light, our fears had somehow calmed down as we were riding along there. was it the daylight that vanquished the apprehensions and uncertainties of night? but there was a cause for being at ease. the bethlehem commando had gone on ahead, and had passed through. we should no doubt manage the passage. so, without perturbation, the laager went forward, slow but determined, when--boom! we hear the thunder of a cannon fired from zwartlapberg, and a shell bursts on the ground near the front waggons. a second shell soon follows, and then a third and a fourth; and the mounted men and those on foot, the waggons and the carts, immediately wheel from the mountain and race away, scattered and in confusion, all over the plain to the west, to get out of range of the cannon. about three or four miles from the road on which we had been travelling we came to a standstill. we can now collect our scattered senses. we discuss the situation. the state of affairs is not encouraging. let us see how they stand. we are certain now to meet with resistance from the forts in front of us. from the rear the english are advancing in great numbers. to the right and left it is just the same, for there too we shall come in contact with the enemy. what is to be done now? some say we must remain where we are, others that we must get through the nek at all costs. president steyn declares we must go through, and general fourie has already expressed the same opinion, and as neither general de wet nor general philip botha are present at the moment, this officer puts himself at the head of the commando and bravely rides on. the whole commando, waggons and carts, mounted men and those on foot, follow him. like a great stream they advance, as far as possible from the cannon on zwartlapberg and as near as possible to the mountains to the west of the nek. there were three english forts on the left (of which two could fire on us), and two on the lowest ridges of zwartlapberg. we must now pass in between these. we proceed, not knowing what there is in store for us. we think we are going to our death, or at least that we shall be wounded. onward, onward flows the great stream of men on horseback and on foot, of waggons and carts. some burghers put their spurs into their horses and gallop ahead. they take possession of a kaffir kraal and open a heavy fire on the right-hand forts. in the meanwhile the great laager treks on and approaches to the nek, nearer and nearer. general de wet, accompanied by general botha, now appears on the scene and takes on himself the further conduct of the passage. there is a deafening rattle of mausers, to which the british lee-metfords reply. we reach the nek, over which we pass, and find ourselves in reaped wheat-fields, which makes it difficult for the waggons and carts to proceed; but the worn-out animals are relentlessly driven onward. some of the burghers take position behind the wheat-stacks here, and direct a heavy fire on the forts to the right, while the bethlehem men, who passed through the nek at daybreak, occupy themselves with the forts to the left, and with a force coming from thaba 'nchu. the bullets whistle over our heads and strike the ground all along the route we have to go. the clatter of our rifle fire fills the air. this, and the general confusion, affects the men in different ways, which can clearly be read on their countenances. here one sees indifference, there calm resolve, yonder fear and alarm, which so paralyse the fearful that they abandon all their food, blankets, coats. but all press on! after two hours the great stream of waggons and carts and men has passed through sprinkhaans nek. we ask ourselves, whence the courage which inspired us to face so determinedly what was before us? whence the strength which upheld our worn-out horses? the enemy thought they had hemmed us in, which indeed was the case. they were in front of us and in our rear, to our right and to our left. but god was not willing that we should fall into their hands. we had just emerged from the wheat-fields when the english hurled shells at us, but it was marvellous to see how these shells exploded in the open spaces between the burghers, without doing any harm. at length, at about eleven o'clock, we halted, so that our poor brutes, after having been in harness and under saddle for sixteen hours, could now enjoy a long drink. here the bethlehem burghers joined us. they related to us how they had come through the nek early in the morning, before dawn, and had been fired upon, as they were passing close to the forts, with the loss of two of their number. this was a matter of regret to us all; but a feeling of gratitude prevailed, for, excepting these two killed, and two more wounded in making the passage, and a few horses killed and wounded, we had come--it was a marvel to us--unharmed through sprinkhaans nek. chapter xv christmas commandant hasebroek did not succeed in getting through sprinkhaans nek with us, as he was too far behind; but he broke through the cordon some days later between thaba 'nchu and the bloemfontein waterworks. besides this, our ambulances, under dr. fourie and mr. poutsma, remained behind; but general knox let them go, and in a few days they were once more in our midst. concerning our other losses, it must be noted that the men of one of the armstrong guns taken at de wet's dorp abandoned it, and as the carriage of one of the maxim-nordenfeldts broke down, there was no help for it but to leave it behind. besides these, a few carts and waggons were left behind. on saturday, th december, towards nightfall we held a service, as the transvaal government had fixed that day as a day of prayer and humiliation. the day after was both sunday and dingaan's day. we celebrated the day at korannaberg, and commemorated the vow made by our forefathers. almost a week passed now without our having any trouble from our pursuers. we passed the farm of mr. frans schimper, greatly enjoyed the delicious oranges which we found everywhere, and remained during wet weather, on the th and th december, on the farm mexico, belonging to mr. jacobus van der watt. after this, general p. fourie proceeded with a portion of the commando in the direction of clocolan, where we had heard that the english were. the rest of us went with general de wet to trommel, as there was another force of english to the left of leeuw kop. on saturday we were at rietfontein, the farm of mr. stephanus jacobsz, and on sunday we held service on the ridge to the south-west. then we went back from the ridge to rietfontein. meanwhile the enemy were again approaching from leeuwfontein as well as from clocolan. general de wet gave orders that the burghers should take up positions on the hills westward between rietfontein and mouton's nek. the following day, th december, the english, who were advancing, were driven back from leeuw kop. but by the unfaithfulness of a field-cornet, who deserted his post without the knowledge of the other men, the english coming from the direction of clocolan got the chance of approaching unobserved. these creeping up a ditch were thus able to fire on our men from behind. the result might have been disastrous. our burghers, thus fired at, found themselves also attacked in front, and could now do nothing but escape from between the two fires. a son of commandant truter was killed there. the burgher coenrad labuschagne was taken prisoner. fortunately all the others escaped, and rallied in the evening at doornhoek. the following morning was christmas. "glory to god in the highest, and on earth peace!" thus in the stilly night the angels sang twenty centuries before, and we--after all those centuries, we had not peace on earth, but the sword. alas! that after these centuries of the preaching of the good news of peace one mortal should still be seeking to take away the life of another, that one christian people--yes, christian people; for after christ, not after buddha or confucius, are we named--should strive to destroy the other! in spite of the gospel it was not peace but the sword. who really understands jesus of nazareth, and who of those who do understand him are ready to sacrifice all to him, and to live, whatever they may have to suffer for it, as he lived? there stood doorn kop behind us, and wonder kop to the right. alongside their saddles and under the shade of some willows lay the tired burghers. how little of christmas rejoicing there was in all this. it was difficult to believe that we had ever enjoyed christmas festivities. were not the recollections which surged up in us--recollections of christmas cheer and christmas peace--only beautiful illusions rising from a past which never really existed, as we saw it then? the day before, with its roar of cannon, seemed to turn the angels' hymn to irony. more or less thus had i written in my lost diary, and i had added--but let me not fall into weak meditation; let me rather, as a faithful chronicler, deal with the facts as they occurred. _ad rem_, then. we buried young hendrik truter in the burial-place of mrs. goosen, on the farm driehoppen. and there in a quiet grave, over which the poplar leaves restlessly moved soughing in the wind, we laid him to rest, where the wicked ceased from troubling and the weary were at rest. in the afternoon i held a service under the great shady willows of the farm, taking as text the prophetic words of john, "the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our lord and of his christ, and he will reign for ever and ever." i felt greatly cheered, and it became plain to me that if peace eventually came it would come through long centuries of unrest and of strife. what of that, if only it came at last? but we poor shortsighted creatures, we would measure the course of the kingdom of god by seconds! what is an age to him for whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as one day? what are a thousand years to him who forms the crust of the earth through myriads of years? however long, then, it might last, the day will yet come when the kingdoms of the earth shall become the kingdoms of god and of his christ, and when he shall reign for ever. after the service general de wet said that we were that afternoon to proceed a little farther. soon we were marching again, and at nine o'clock in the evening we camped to the south-west of senekal, at the foot of tafel kop. chapter xvi everyone goes to his own district here at tafel kop, after the chief officers had held a council of war, the commandos separated. we of harrismith, together with burghers of other districts, were now again under the command of general philip botha. the rest were to go under generals fourie and froneman. general de wet shortly afterwards fitted out a second expedition to invade cape colony, which, however, did not get farther than brak river. i did not accompany it (during january and february ), and have therefore nothing to relate about it. it is, however, well known that general de wet, in this second attempt to make an inroad into british territory south of the orange river, underwent still greater hardships than in the first. but although he was prevented by heavy rains from gaining his object, and had to turn back, he was not altogether dissatisfied; for on his return he declared, when addressing the burghers, that he had gained what he wanted. he had certainly succeeded in forcing the english to march long distances, and to concentrate large forces at points where at that time it was not convenient for them to do so. but let me revert to my own experiences. on the th of december, when darkness had fallen, we left tafel kop, and camped for the night to the north of wit kop. there were, when we got to the neighbourhood of senekal, no english in that town; but after we had been at wit kop for a day news was brought that a body of the enemy had again entered it. general botha therefore sent a number of burghers to take up a position along the road from senekal to bethlehem, whilst the laager remained at wit kop. the object of this was to allow time for about ten waggons, which had been sent to ficksburg to fetch meal, to return. before, however, these waggons reached ficksburg the english had again occupied that town, and with regretful eyes we saw the long train of waggons returning without having accomplished their purpose. on friday, the th of december, we went on to zuringtrans, and early on the following morning we started from there towards kaffir kop, while general botha with a number of burghers took up positions. we were outspanned, and quite at our ease, when a report came that the enemy was advancing from wit kop. at first we did not believe this, but soon it proved to be true enough, and then there was again a hurried inspanning. the maxim-nordenfeldt was dangerously near, and we had to hasten away with the greatest speed. we passed the sand river and kaffir kop to the left, and at night we encamped not far from that kop. the following day, sunday, we could hold no service. the burghers had to take up positions against the advancing foe at kaffir kop, while the waggons and carts went forward during the whole of the day to elandsfontein, not far from lindley. how unfortunate was the lot of our burghers when, without cannon, they had to hold a position. before they could get a chance of firing a single shot the position was shelled, and the english, far beyond the reach of rifles, moved round the flanks in large numbers. if, then, our men wished to avoid being surrounded they had to retreat. this now at kaffir kop. the frequent withdrawal of our burghers from their positions made the enemy taunt them with being unwilling to fight, and with running away. but since the english as a rule kept our men at a distance of five thousand yards with their cannon, and kept themselves also at a safe distance, how could our people get a chance of fighting? if the boers, then, had no chance of fighting, they should not keep the war going: they should not attack the english when few in numbers and when they had a fair chance of firing at the enemy's troops on their flanks. so the english kept on saying; yet, oh mine enemy, what right had'st thou to prescribe to us how we should fight? did not thine own great hero, wellington, declare that a nation has the right to adopt every means to resist a foe that is invading its country? we went on a little farther that night, and the sun rose on us on the st of january not far from liebenberg's vlei. we proceeded a short distance farther, and held service to celebrate the day in the garden of a farm where we had halted. i addressed the burghers on the subject of "the old and the new." in the evening we proceeded in the direction of reitz, and camped at the confluence of liebenberg's vlei and tyger kloof; for it was general botha's object to give the burghers some rest somewhere in the neighbourhood of that village. we remained here for some days to look for a suitable spot, and the general went himself with commandant erwee to reconnoitre the forts of the english at reitz. meanwhile we enjoyed the great privilege of being able to bathe in the river; but we also experienced some discomfort from rain. at midnight on the second day heavy showers fell, and many burghers who had off-saddled in low-lying places were inundated. they had hurriedly to jump up and carry their bedding to higher ground. this they did laughing and joking, which certainly was a fine proof of the good spirit that prevailed among them, and of the cheerfulness with which they were ready to make any sacrifice for the sake of the great cause. it appeared that we could not remain in the neighbourhood of reitz, for on thursday, the rd of january, our attention was called to an english force marching from senekal towards heilbron. in a fight that day with this force we unfortunately lost several dead and wounded. on the following day another engagement took place with another body of english going in the same direction. general botha drove the infantry some distance, but had to give it up when reinforcements with two cannon and a maxim-nordenfeldt belonging to the english who had passed the day before made its appearance. whilst the general was engaged in this fight some of our men halted the ambulance waggons of the enemy, which had gone on in advance, and found in them a considerable number of the english who had been wounded on the previous day. there was also one of our burghers, but he was too weak to be removed. meanwhile we had from day to day gone farther and farther from reitz, and on sunday, th january, we crossed liebenberg's vlei and remained that night on the bank of that river not far from leeuw kop. here we remained till the following morning. we then proceeded east of leeuw kop. from a high ridge there, over which we passed, i saw in the distance platberg, at the foot of which harrismith lies. i had not seen the mountain for five months. a thrill of emotion went through me when i saw it, but i had no desire to go to the town at its foot, for no one dear to me was there now. and when i thought how the enemy had taken possession of the town, and of all the vulgarity connected with a military occupation, i felt a sort of aversion to the place. whither were we going now, now that we could not rest in the neighbourhood of reitz? there was a rumour that picked men from each commando were to go with general de wet to the colony, and that the rest of the men were to return to their own districts to be employed there as circumstances might require. and now that we were "trekking" in the direction of harrismith it seemed as if this would be the case, at any rate as far as the harrismith burghers were concerned; but greatly to the disappointment of most of us, we had to go back on tuesday night, and reached bronkhorstfontein on wednesday morning early, not far from valsch river. on the following morning we trekked to valsch river, not far from the mill, and on friday, th january, all the harrismith men got leave to go to their districts, upon the understanding that they should come together again on the nd at doornberg. afterwards leave was given to those burghers who had accompanied the chief-commandant to odendalstroom to remain in their own district, while those who had not gone with him were now to accompany him on his second expedition to the cape colony. there were some, however, of those who had gone the first time who now went again, among whom were general wessel wessels, commandant jan jacobsz, and some men. i set off towards harrismith without the slightest delay. on saturday night i was on the farm of jan labuschagne, and on the following afternoon, at sunset, i arrived at zwart klip, together with general c. j. de villiers. it was pleasant to be there once more, and to see the trees, which were leafless when i had last seen them, now clad in all the pride of summer. everything was calm and peaceful here, and although the english, eighteen miles away, had our town in their possession, we could with difficulty persuade ourselves that there peace had not been restored. we were naturally glad to see one another again, and had much to tell and much to listen to. what was particularly gratifying to us was to hear the particulars in regard to the _quasi_ civil administration of the english, of which we had already heard some account. since the middle of october the function of district commissioner had ceased also in this district. the patrols of five or six mounted police could no more ride about in safety, and if the english wished to go from one town to another this could not be accomplished unless they were in large numbers and under the protection of cannon. but the burghers went about in small numbers--north or south, east or west--wherever they listed. it became clearer to us than ever, that whatever the english might have, they were not yet in possession of our country, and that they could do nothing unless they did it with overwhelming odds and under shelter of cannon. we felt that this could not but be humiliating to such officers of the british army as were capable of judging the merits of the case without prejudice. chapter xvii the destruction of the farms for some time after i arrived at zwart klip matters were fairly quiet in the free state. i was surprised at this, and considered that the english were, from their point of view, guilty of neglect of duty. their inactivity in the free state must be accounted for by the fact that they were occupied by general de wet on the northern border of the cape colony, and by generals hertzog and kritzinger, who had both penetrated far into british territory, in the south. this quiet was very opportune to me. i made use of it to write over my diary; and on sundays i held divine service on some farm or other. during this period the burghers who had returned were stationed all about as outposts. two scouting corps--one under commandant botha, and another under his brother, captain botha--had already been operating for some time in the districts of vrede and harrismith, and had done much towards putting a stop to the small police patrols of the enemy who used to wander about all over the country. and now small bodies of burghers were stationed as guards near the towns. in the district of harrismith there was one guard at mont paul, another at broedersdal, and another at groothoek. in the vrede there was one near mullerspas in the drakensberg, and at various points around the town. in the same manner matters were regulated all through the country. the government also provided for the appointment of _landdrosts_ (magistrates) and justices of the peace for criminal cases in each district. the guards, of which i have spoken, had very little to do during this quiet time. each day they rode out to reconnoitre, and if a force of english marched from one town to another they harassed their flanks. this period of comparative rest continued until about the middle of may, when the enemy began to become active in every part of the country. in the districts of harrismith and vrede the english approached from the direction of heilbron and frankfort, and marched to tafel kop in the district of vrede. others advanced from the transvaal, and whether or not they had been guilty, from their standpoint, of neglect of duty, they now began to do their work thoroughly--or rather, i should say, in a thoroughly cruel and heartless manner. it seemed as if they wanted now literally to annihilate us. they made use of any expedient. the farms were laid waste, the houses burnt down or damaged in such a manner as to render them uninhabitable, and grain and forage were given as a prey to the flames. cattle were looted and sheep killed in tens of thousands. our women, it is true, were not killed out of hand, but they were taken by force, against their wish or will, and shut up in camps. there they were exposed to fevers and other camp diseases, and many succumbed. so it came about that, although, as i have said, it is true that they were not directly killed, it was nevertheless through the environment into which they were forced that they were destroyed by thousands. but i am anticipating. the hostile forces of which i spoke marched up in the eastern part of district vrede, along both banks of klip river, and before their dreaded advance there was a general flight on the part of the inhabitants of the farms towards wilge river. waggons loaded with furniture, bedding, and provisions; carts and spiders with women and children; great troops of horses and cattle--all fled before the english as before goths and vandals. and all this in winter! how i pitied the misery of the women and children. as they passed along, the english looted much cattle--but an incredible number, especially horses and cattle, were saved by the fugitives. the enemy's forces went in the direction of the drakensberg. they marched over roode nek and vlak nek, and we began to think that they would disappear into natal; and many of the fugitives returned to their homes; but they had to take to flight again immediately, when they learnt that only a portion of the enemy had descended into natal through botha's pass--undoubtedly to bring away the captured cattle. the other portion suddenly turned back, came through geershoogte to the witkoppen, and continued their work of destruction west of these hills, down cornelis river to verky kers kop. towards the rd of may the english had returned from natal and joined the others west of the witkoppen. about four days after this the english had drawn a line of camps from tafel kop (district vrede) up to cornelis river, and then moved forward every day towards wilge river, devastating and looting on a large scale. it is wonderful how the fugitives fared, and scarcely credible that they did not fall into the hands of the british. some succeeded in getting round either wing of the cordon by night, others again passed through it close to the camps. what this means can only fully be realised when it is known that the fugitives consisted mostly of women and children, and that (although they were directed how to trek by the fighting burghers) the women in most cases had to drive the carts, and in some cases even the ox waggons, themselves. notwithstanding all these difficulties most escaped. here and there a small laager was captured, but the majority baffled the enemy. a laager of women, however, in which i was by chance, was not so fortunate. on saturday, th of may, i had gone to frankfort to hold divine service. i remained there till monday the rd of june, and then news was brought to the town that the great cordon of the english, of which i have spoken above, was swiftly advancing. the inhabitants of the town, mostly women and children, left the town on monday morning and trekked across the bridge, while i went on to the farm of mr. christiaan de beer. on wednesday the laager came there too, and as it was their intention to trek all through the night, in order to pass round the south wing of the english, i joined them, hoping to be behind the british the next morning. the frankfort laager had increased considerably since monday, a number of transvaal women having joined it, and now consisted of about seventy waggons. some of these transvaal women had been trekking about for a year, and, as may be expected, presented a very worn appearance. the sun had just set when the laager reached the farm of christiaan de beer, and shortly after passed it, and continued in the dark until the moon rose. it was a long night passed under particularly sad circumstances. whatever i had gone through in night marches during this war, this night added what i had not experienced before. this was the most miserable of all, on account of the presence of weak women and tender babes. if anyone wishes to witness real misery, let him go to a large women's laager. in this laager there were girls who rode on horseback all through the night, and that on men's saddles, which had been so arranged that a girl could ride on it. i saw a little maiden take the riem and lead the team of oxen before the waggon. and then the poor little children! they moaned and cried at the bitter cold of the winter nights of june--poor mites in thin linen or cotton garments. boys of ten and twelve had to drive on the cattle, and the parents had perforce to speak harshly to them, in order to help them in their bitter task. how my soul rose up with indignation at the merciless force that had caused such scenes of misery--that exposed babes to the cold of the long winter nights, and drove women, who refused to be captured, into the wilderness. the basutos in our war with them robbed our cattle, burnt our houses, and killed our men, but they left our women and children unmolested. it was reserved for the british empire, at the height of its power, its civilisation, and its enlightenment to make war on women and children. and yet, it was astonishing to see that the poor women, in spite of all this, were not utterly discouraged. how admirable they were. whatever may have been the feeling deep down in their hearts, suppressed and stifled there, outwardly they were full of courage, and even to some extent cheerful. one of them even baked dampers at midnight, when we halted to give the weary oxen a rest. that, however, we ought not to have allowed, for not only did it cause delay, but our fires showed the enemy where we were. after waiting for two hours we went on again. we made considerable progress until we came near to the farm of mr. gert oosthuizen. there a waggon got stuck in the mud. this caused delay, and after the waggon had been extricated, day quickly began to dawn. again we proceeded, and shortly before sunrise we had reached concordia, the farm of mr. abraham strauss. here we learned that the english were approaching from steil drift. the waggons immediately went south-westward in the direction of reitz over a ridge, and fifty men mounted their horses and hurried away. i also left the laager and hastened as fast as the mules could drag the spider. after driving some distance i looked round and saw that the english had gained the ridge which we had just crossed. everywhere on the horizon the ground seemed covered with horsemen. it began to be plain that there could be no escape for me, but still the animals were urged to go on as hard as they could. i was nearly a mile away from the laager, which meanwhile had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and almost out of danger when some troops came up. they were indignant that i had not remained with the laager, and ordered me with curses and indescribably foul language to halt. i did so, and surrendered myself. "outspan them horses!" a soldier shouted to me [they were mules]. i refused. "i am your prisoner, not your servant," i said. that was foolish on my part, for i was completely in their power, as i also later on admitted to an officer, but i was unaccustomed to being addressed in this way by common soldiers. the rage of my captors now rose to a climax. two of them stuck cartridges into their rifles and an officer levelled his revolver at me. i then thought that, there being no question of principle here, it would be senseless to allow myself to be shot for a matter of this sort, and began with my son to unharness the mules. had they struck me then i should have understood that it was done under provocation; but that i should be struck in cold blood shortly after is another matter. everything was quiet, and i was busy obeying the orders of the soldiers, when an officer of higher rank than the one who wanted to shoot me came up, and in learning that there had been a dispute, and that i had made some objections, he struck me from behind on my head with the metal head of his horse-whip. i have forgiven him. probably also he is dead from the effects of a dangerous wound he received shortly after. we had then to inspan again, and were ordered to go to a kaffir kraal at graspan, in the vicinity. thither also the laager and forty-three captured burghers were brought. some women visited the men there, amongst whom they had husbands and sons, and brought food and coffee. it was a sad sight to behold; the women wept and loudly expressed their fears that they would be separated from their husbands. i tried to encourage them, and besought them not to shed tears before the enemy. with what contempt did the english look down upon us. not some of them merely, but all. the lowest soldier vented his scorn in foul language, and even the highest officer there forgot that he should be a gentleman, and did not refrain from insulting language. as he rode past and cast his eye over the women, he exclaimed: "what! have we a japanese show here?" and it was in the presence of such men that our women shed tears. shortly after we had been captured three or four horsemen appeared on the same ridge over which we had come, but a volley from the soldiers soon caused them to disappear. meanwhile some officers came and asked me whether it was i who, in the fight on platrand (waggon hill) on the th of january , had bandaged an english officer, and when i had replied in the affirmative they were very friendly to me. and now followed some conversation with the soldiers. we learned that the force consisted of men, who had left steil drift at two o'clock in the morning to capture us. their column was advancing, and might be expected at any moment. my son also spoke to the soldiers and officers. "what," he asked one of the latter, "do you think of a rescue?" "oh!" was the reply, "a couple of volleys will send it flying like the boers we just fired at." a soldier also said to his comrade that they had to keep an eye on my son, adding: "i bet my bottom sixpence the little beggar will get away yet." and that is what did happen! we also learned that we were to be taken to kroonstad, and this pleased me, for i did not wish to be marched into harrismith as a prisoner-of-war. the time passed slowly till two o'clock in the afternoon. then horsemen appeared on the ridge to the north-west. the english thought this might be their column, and feared lest, not knowing that the laager had been captured, their troops might begin bombarding it. the officers placed themselves in a row, and made signals to the horsemen to come to the laager. they also sent out one of their men to give notice of the state of affairs. but he did not return, and when those on the ridge, after riding hither and thither as if undecided what to do, at last rushed forward towards the laager, and some others from the south and east came out on the flanks, there was no longer any doubt that they were boers. orders were hastily given to resist the attack of the burghers. the soldiers caught their horses, and firing at once commenced, whilst we who had been captured were placed out of immediate danger behind a sod wall. the rifle fire now became very severe. the bullets flew in all directions. many of us thought of what might now happen to the women and children. soon we prisoners-of-war were being fired at by the burghers who were storming the laager from the south-east side, and our guards allowed us to seek refuge in one of the huts. hardly had we entered it, when we heard the english saying that our burghers who had attacked from the eastern side had retaken the laager. this was about twenty minutes after the fight had commenced. the english now sought shelter. some ran into two or three huts; others into a cattle kraal between the huts. there they loopholed the walls and defended themselves bravely. in the turmoil two wounded soldiers were carried to the door of the hut in which the prisoners were, and i went out to help the doctor. whilst i was thus engaged a bullet whistled past my ear, and i saw with surprise that it came from our burghers who had taken the laager from the east side. ten of them had taken up a position near a hut and fired thence, a distance of about twenty yards, at the english in the cattle kraal, and at the same distance also at us. "we are boers!" shouted the prisoners. but this did not help, for they continued shooting. from the hut near which they were firing from, they saw two or three of the english guards amongst us, and thought probably that we were acting as guides to the english. then i also ran forward and declared that we were boers. "if you are boers, then come out," they cried. my son and i with one or two more then ran swiftly out, and lay down behind the sod-wall from which we had gone into the hut. here i saw how one of our burghers coming from the laager to the sod-wall was struck in the right breast and fell down. he called to a comrade. as he was coming i saw a bullet strike him too. i heard him exclaim as he sank down, "i am killed too." he died immediately, resting his head on my son's shoulder. a couple of yards behind us an english soldier was wounded. he cried aloud for water, and there was no one to give it him. everywhere around men, as well as many oxen and horses, were being shot. at the hut from which the boers were firing at the english in the kraal i saw commandant davel. i noticed too that he was in command there, and concluded that he had led the charge. that was the case. it was he who, with his burghers, had stormed the laager from the east. i also saw ex-general p. fourie. my heart leapt with joy when i saw that brave old man, and i thought that the charge against him could not have been of a very serious nature if he were thus again permitted to carry arms.[ ] [footnote : general fourie had a short time previously been arrested on the charge of carrying on unlawful correspondence with the english.] shortly after we had got to the sod-wall commandant davel sent a white flag to the kraal to tell the english to surrender. i made use of this opportunity to go--it was only six or seven yards off to the position held by our burghers at the hut. there lay three burghers and one englishman dead. my son armed himself again with the rifle of one of the dead men. as was to be expected, the enemy refused to surrender, and the firing recommenced. meanwhile the waggons which were able to do so had begun to retire, and fifty of them reached a hollow out of range. it would now certainly not have been long before we should have won the day completely, had not some scouts of general de wet ridden up in haste and reported that a very large reinforcement of the enemy was swiftly approaching. before, therefore, the few that still remained in the huts and in the kraal could be forced to surrender, the burghers were ordered to retire. the hut where i was, was deserted. then my son said to me that it was time for us also, and asked whether i would follow him if he went out first. yes. he thereupon led the way, and i followed him. but we could not get to our spider. the mules were unharnessed, and the vehicle moreover stood in the line of fire; but we were rescued from this difficulty. the cart of mr. christiaan de beer stood ready inspanned, and whilst my son drove away with it, with miss de beer, who was wounded through the arm, i led mrs. de beer and her daughter out. it was a brave deed was that done by our burghers at graspan. from the bare ridge on the one side and the open plain on the other they had stormed the laager. eventually they were firing at the enemy at such short range as from one kaffir hut to the other, and were between the waggons often face to face with the troops. they consisted merely of the bodyguard of the president under commandant davel and those of general de wet. there was also a small number of transvaalers, who had accompanied general de la rey on his journey to the president and the chief-commandant. together they numbered between seventy and eighty men. but although fewer in number than the enemy, they had again given proof that it is not possible for englishmen to move five miles away from their cannon, and then to be met without disaster by a handful of our burghers. and this i say not because i wish to convey that the english are not brave. i have never seen greater courage than that displayed by them at graspan. but it remains a fact that, as regards mobility and the handling of a rifle, they are no match for the boers; and that when they have no cannon or have not the odds greatly in their favour, they must yield to the boers. it is only by brute force that they could overpower us. dearly was graspan paid for! not only were the waggons that had escaped retaken by the reinforcement, but thirteen of our burghers were killed and about fourteen seriously wounded. and what did the english say about the laager that they had taken? they said that _it was a convoy of general de wet_. this is one of the cases of the untruthfulness of their reports. it was a _women's laager_ and nothing else, with not a hundred men in it, of whom some were non-combatants and others very old men. there was not a single officer amongst them, to lead those who were armed; and so it came about that there was no resistance whatever when the laager was attacked. i left the laager when the reinforcement approached, and went to reitz. in the evening i left the town and got to the farm of mr. piet de jager, near rout kop, at about ten o'clock, whence, however, the people had fled in fear of the advancing english. the large force of the english now proceeded in the direction of heilbron and kroonstad; but first buried their and our dead at reitz. two days after, our burghers came and reburied our dead (thirteen bodies) there better than the enemy had in their haste been able to do. before closing this chapter i must still mention that the worst that had yet befallen us took place towards the middle of july. other troops arrived, this time from platrand station, transvaal, following the track of the columns that had already traversed the country. they destroyed over again what had already been destroyed. large flocks of sheep were collected everywhere and stabbed to death at different centres, in heaps of thousands upon thousands. in the town of vrede there was a great slaughter, and in order to make it impossible for our people to live there the dead sheep were carried into the houses and left to rot. not only in the districts of vrede and harrismith did this occur, but everywhere throughout the state. when i was in the neighbourhood of senekal it took place there also. i have myself seen places where the skeletons of the sheep lay, and could hardly imagine anything sadder than to see them lying dead in heaps. the destroyers also frequently drove large herds of young horses or such as were unfit for service into kraals, or crowded them into ditches, and shot them there by tens, fifties, or hundreds, and the air was charged with pestilential odours. the troops completely destroyed the houses. where the stables and waggon-houses were not burnt down, the dwelling-houses were devoted to the flames; and where these were not burnt down, they were so utterly ruined as to become wholly uninhabitable. the floors were broken up, the panes of glass smashed with the sashes and all, the doors broken to pieces, the doorposts and the window-sills torn out. and if it was not too terrible to permit of its being so described, one might say that the work of these men was sometimes childish--as, for instance, when on one occasion they hanged the cats in a barn, and on another shot a horse inside a house, and then covered it up with a table. to escape from the troops the women sometimes took refuge in mountainous parts of the country in caves and grottos. often they escaped; but on other occasions the soldiers discovered them in these places of refuge. an officer found two women with their children in a cave, and expressed himself very strongly as to what he saw there, saying that he would send a photograph of the scene to the _graphic_, as if the picture of such misery could do credit to himself and his nation! he wrote the following letter, and handed it to one of the women to deliver to her husband:-- "to mr. m. lourens. "sir,--i am leaving your wife and mrs. uys in the wretched place they have to live in. if you had any compassion on your women you would surrender to superior force and not prolong a hopeless struggle. "r. b. firman, lieutenant-colonel." / / . as one of these women was indisposed the officer left them there; but he took the little servant-girls away. to such acts as these the officers of the british columns had fallen. they were made the persecutors of defenceless women and children. they carried the work of incendiaries throughout the whole state. they became the butchers of thousands of horses and tens of thousands of sheep. how despicable it must have been in their own eyes to perpetrate such acts! when i think of all this, and look to the far future, then i ask myself: what will be said of this war when the history of it shall be written and read by the coming generations? chapter xviii president steyn almost captured the things i needed most after my escape at graspan were clothes, for all i possessed had been on the spider that i had had to leave behind. but even had i been able to rescue it, i should have found very little in it; for although i had heard an officer ordering the soldiers to lay their hands on nothing belonging to the burghers except arms and ammunition, from the kaffir huts, in which i was held captive, i saw them removing from time to time from the spider, first one and then another article of clothing and concealing it about their saddles. to provide, therefore, for my wants as far as clothes were concerned, i went to fouriesburg. not all at once could i recover my equanimity. the excitement of my capture and the fight at graspan had, as may be well conceived, affected my nerves, and it was as if i could not clearly realise my escape. but when on the following sunday, on the farm of mr. heymans, not far from slabbert's nek, i again saw a congregation before me, i once more completely regained my serenity of mind. it was clear to me that god had shown me that he held my fate in his hand, and that i owed to his mercy my liberty until the day of my capture. it was as if he had said, "behold, i delivered you over to the enemy, and closed his hand upon you so that there was no deliverance. there is therefore nothing for you to be vain of in that you were the only one of your colleagues in the free state who had up to that time not been taken prisoner. but i have delivered you because i have further work for you to do. go forth, and do good to your people. encourage the burghers. seek out the neglected ones. comfort the defenceless women and children in their oppression. preach the gospel." and i must declare it, that since the unfortunate occurrence at nauwpoort i never had more courage than now, nor had i been able till then to address the burghers with more pleasure than now. i arrived at fouriesburg on monday, the th of june, and was there most kindly entertained by mr. jacobus bester and his wife. the english--so i heard there--had just quitted the village, and had in the previous month laid waste everything behind the roodebergen. in the newspapers they published how many women and children they had captured, how many burghers they had killed, how many cattle they had carried off, how many tons of grain they had burned, how many ovens and stoves they had destroyed. thus the british generals, stern iconoclasts, had become the takers of ovens by storm. i discovered that not so many burghers by far had been captured or killed as the english accounts had stated. it was also surprising how much grain there was left, how much even had been rescued from the flames, and when on the sunday after my arrival i held service in the church, i found the building nearly full of worshippers, and all were in fairly good spirits. there was, notwithstanding all the destruction, no thought of surrender. what advantage would we gain thereby? should we get the looted cattle back? should we see the burnt-down houses rebuilt?--no. then let the enemy do his worst. let him ruin us completely if it was our fate to be overwhelmed. the english had to do with a people who were no barbarians, but with a race sprung from the same stock as themselves--with the offspring of ancestors who had sacrificed everything for their faith--with descendants of forefathers who had contended for eighty years against a great world-power. such means, therefore, as great britain had for the last fifty years been in the habit of employing against barbarous or semi-barbarous races had till now failed signally when applied to the people of south africa. i visited our people on their farms. at one place the family was living in a waggon-shed, at another in a stable, and again at another in a house restored sufficiently to make it to some extent habitable. some farms had not been visited by the enemy, whilst at others no damage had been done, excepting the destruction of the grain and the _stoves_! at one farm which i visited everything had been left as it had been. there was still a piano, and we spent the evening pleasantly. what thoughts passed in my mind when one of the young ladies sang well-known songs to the accompaniment of the piano, and when i remembered that the same girl, with her mother and sisters, had shortly before, whilst fleeing before the enemy, passed the night under the open sky. both the mother and her daughters were cheerful here, and not here only, but everywhere i went. no wonder, then, that the hope that sooner or later we would gain our independence grew stronger and stronger in me. while i was at fouriesburg the landdrost, mr. m. fourie, came from the ficksburg commando, and told me that he, commandant steyn, and field-cornet j. j. van niekerk would be pleased if i could visit their commando. what else was i living for? i went gladly, and addressed the burghers, on week days as well as on sundays. amongst the ficksburgers i found the song, written by the rev. g. thom, which has since become well known. "hope on, hope on, my brothers, in our beloved land, we're waiting for deliverance, deliverance by god's hand. hope on, hope on, my brothers, though war's dark clouds increase; 'tis but a short time longer, then he will give us peace. hope on, hope on, my brothers, the daylight is not far; when the long night is ended will rise the morning star. hope on, hope on, my sisters, in our beloved land, we too lament your sorrows, we on this far-off strand.[ ] hope on, hope on, my sisters, your tears, your sighs, your pain by him are not forgotten, to whom all things are plain. hope on, hope on, my sisters, and still again hope on; through seas of blood and treasure our freedom must be won!" [footnote : ceylon. the original of this song is in dutch, of which the above is but a feeble rendering.] this song was not sent out by the rev. g. thom for any special purpose, but it seems that, as it was often sung by the prisoners-of-war in ceylon, it was sent out in its entirety or in portions by different burghers to their relatives as their contribution to the scanty news they had to send. had the censor known how this song would be circulated among us, and sung everywhere, he would certainly not have let it pass. but perhaps we have a proof here that the censor, like homer of old, was also occasionally apt to nod. the song was sung by the burghers of field-cornet j. j. van niekerk to the tune of the old voortrekkers' hymn, "how pleasant are the days." i afterwards had this sung wherever i held a service, always requesting the girls to make copies of it before the service. mr. mels' j. meyers, then editor of the _brandwacht_, afterwards printed a number of copies, which helped me much to spread the song. i have no doubt that these verses aided in a large measure to keep alive the courage of our people. while i was in these parts letters came regularly from british territory through basutoland to the farm brindisi, under the kind care of mr. middleton, the owner of the farm. i availed myself of the opportunity and sent letters to my wife, and received replies by the same means. the relatives of the captives who had been sent to ceylon often got news from that island, and it encouraged us much to see what a good spirit reigned amongst the exiles. our ministers there seemed to be effecting much good by their services, and the younger captives attended schools which had been erected for them. others passed their time in the making of beautiful handiwork of all descriptions out of suitable stone, such as brooches and similar articles, while others again worked on the roads for small wages, and in this manner obtained enough money to purchase paper and postage stamps, as one of them stated in his letter. but what particularly impressed me was the firm conviction they all had of the ultimate deliverance of our nation. here is an extract from a letter of a young man to his mother:-- "we are full of courage, and do not mind how long we have to remain here, if only our people get the upper hand--which they certainly will." from the ficksburgers i went to the ladybrand commando, and held services for the burghers and the women. on the farm peru, belonging to mrs. a. ecksteen, senior, i heard that the english wanted to remove, on the th of april , the mother-in-law of mrs. ecksteen. as the old lady was eighty years of age, and, moreover, suffered from a weak heart, mrs. ecksteen protested against this deportation, whereupon the officer in command said, "she will have to go, even if she were dead." and so the old woman was forced to go on the waggon. at karba, not far from there, the english deported mrs. a. ecksteen, junior, on the same day, notwithstanding her repeated assurances that she could not possibly go. a son of dr. wilson, the practitioner at karba, had carried a letter from his father to the military, acquainting them with mrs. ecksteen's condition. but the lad got his ears boxed, and was taken prisoner (he was, however, released on the following day); and the officer said to the woman, "you'll _have_ to go." mrs. ecksteen was thereupon taken to the _mine_ on the farm monastery, along with the other ecksteens; she there found shelter under a waggon, but was taken during the night into a tin shanty, of which all the doors and windows had been destroyed, and under such circumstances she gave birth to a daughter! the following morning the english realised what an inhuman act they had committed, and left the ecksteens there with the following note:-- "monastery, _ th april _. "mrs. a. ecksteen, junior, having to our regret been moved from her house by mistake, when she was not in a condition to travel, dr. wilson has been left to take charge of her, and also her mother-in-law and grandmother to care of her. all these persons must remain on the farm karba. "j. (?) halkett,[ ] a.p.m., pilcher's horse." [footnote : this was not the officer who had removed mrs. ecksteen.] by mistake! and that with the woman before their eyes and the letter of the doctor in their hands! but this is by no means the only case of this sort. a british officer had also, shortly before, taken away mrs. greyling, an old woman aged eighty-five, from her farm, magermanshoek, at korannaberg. the poor old woman could no longer walk and was totally blind. when her son inquired whether she could not travel in her spider, his request was refused and the vehicle burnt. she was carried to a waggon on a chair, and conveyed to winburg. i mention these cases not as exceptions, but as examples of what continually took place. having returned to the ficksburg commando on the st of july, i found that my son had had an accident through the explosion of a martini-henry cartridge in his face. this forced us to remain till the th at the farm franschhoek, belonging to field-cornet j. j. van niekerk. i wish here to record my thanks for the kindness of all the families there, and especially for that shown by mrs. j. j. van niekerk and mrs. meyer in nursing my son. before leaving franschhoek i heard of the narrow escape of our president at reitz. he had gone thither with his staff on the evening of the th of july. early the next morning his cook, a coloured boy named ruiter, rushed into the tent where the president was sleeping, shouting, "the english are here." the president then hastily went out, without a jacket and with a nightcap on his head, and ran to the stable where his horse was. the saddle was not near at hand, and mr. curlewis hurriedly put his own saddle on the horse. without bridle or bit, and with only the riem of the halter in the horse's mouth, the president galloped away. a soldier followed and shot at him; but the president's horse was fresh, and gained on the tired steed of the soldier, until he was out of danger. ruiter wanted to follow the president, but when fired on he allowed himself to be captured. subsequently, however, he escaped, and related that, when they had asked him who it was that had ridden off, he had answered, "it's only a boer." on a former occasion the president had slept in a house, and it seems that the majority of the english had surrounded that same house, and thus they had given him the chance of escaping. but the whole of his staff were taken prisoners, with the exception of the government secretary, mr. j. w. c. brebner, who was absent on leave. the brave commandant, mr. davel, who was chief of the bodyguard, was also captured. besides the president only seven men of the bodyguard escaped. an english officer called it _luck_. we call it by another name. all the money and state documents fell into the hands of the english. what made the loss of the documents a serious matter for us, was that amongst them was a letter from the government of the south african republic giving expression to a very despondent spirit about the condition of affairs, and saying that there was danger that the continuation of the struggle would only tend more and more to the ruin of our people, and that the time was gone by when matters could be allowed to drift on.[ ] [footnote : that letter was as follows:-- government office, on the field, _ th may ._ his honour, the government secretary, o.f.s., honoured sir,--herewith i have the honour to inform you that on this day the following officers have met the government here, viz.: his honour the commandant-general, general b. j. viljoen, general j. c. smuts (state-attorney), the latter representing the western districts. our condition was fully discussed, and the following points considered:-- _first._ that small groups of burghers are still constantly surrendering to the enemy, and that this danger is becoming a more and more serious one, whereby we are exposed to the risk of our cause coming to a dishonourable conclusion, because the result may be, that the government and the officers may be left in the veld without any burghers. this imposes a heavy responsibility upon the government and the officers, seeing that they represent the people, and not themselves. _secondly._ that our supply of ammunition is so exhausted that no battle of any importance can any more be fought, and that we shall thereby be reduced to the condition of hopelessly fleeing hither and thither before the enemy. owing to this also it is becoming impossible for us to protect our people with their cattle, who thus are becoming poorer and more and more despondent, and we shall soon be unable to supply our forces with food. _thirdly._ for the reasons above stated, the authority of the government is gradually being weakened, and the danger has arisen that the people will lose all respect and obedience for their lawful leaders, and lapse into a state of disorder, and our further persistence in such a struggle can only tend more and more to ruin our people, and to make it apparent to them that it is only the enemy who has authority in the land. _fourthly._ not only is our people being disintegrated in the way above stated, but it will also surely happen that the leaders of the people whose personal influence has hitherto kept them together will fall into total disrepute, and will lose all influence, by which every hope of the revival of the national spirit in the future will be lost. _fifthly._ the people constantly insist upon an answer to the question, what prospect there exists of carrying on the war to a successful issue, and they have a right to expect that when it is become clear to the government and the leaders that there is no longer any sound reason to be hopeful for our cause, this shall be honestly and candidly made known to them. hitherto the government had expected that through the efforts of our deputation and european complications there might be some hope for our cause. and this government feels strongly that before taking any final resolution another effort should be made to arrive at certainty with regard to this. taking into consideration the above-named points, the government, with the officers already named, has resolved as follows:-- . that a request shall at once be made to lord kitchener that by means of delegates to be sent by us to europe, the condition of our country shall be communicated to president kruger, which delegates should then return as speedily as possible. . that if this request be refused, or should lead to negative results, an armistice should then be asked for, whereby an opportunity shall be afforded, in conjunction with your government, to consult the people of both states, in order finally to decide what is to be done. this is, however, subject to any suggestion that your government, bearing in mind the above-stated difficulties, may be able to offer. this government feels very earnestly that the time is gone by for allowing this matter to drift, and that the time has come for taking decisive steps, and would therefore be glad to receive an answer from your government.--i have the honour to be, your obedient servant, (signed) f. w. reitz, state secretary.] to this president steyn wrote a long reply, dated th may , in which he expressed his great regret at this despatch of the transvaal government. he said that although in the free state they had also had to see men laying down their arms, yet that it had been surmounted; also that although ammunition had for a long time been scarce, yet there was still after every fight enough to begin the next one with. as to the question, what prospect there was of continuing the struggle any longer, he would ask, what prospect two little republics had had from the beginning of winning in a struggle against the mighty england? and if at the commencement we had put our trust in god, why should we now not continue to do so? he also pointed out that if our cause were utterly hopeless in europe, we should certainly have heard of it from our deputation. he further assured the transvaal government that even if, in case of an armistice, the people of the free state were consulted, the resolution of those men who still stood their ground would be not to lay down their arms. he also disapproved of the resolution of the transvaal government, to ask lord kitchener to be allowed to send somebody to europe, because thereby we exposed our hand to the enemy; and he added that he was very sorry such a resolution had been taken without first consulting the free state. as regards the fear expressed by the transvaal government that they and the officers would be left without burghers in the field, the president said that in the free state, even if the government and the officers surrendered themselves, the people would not do so. he also showed how disastrous it would be if the free state, which had offered up not only its blood and its treasure, but had also thrown its independence into the scale on behalf of the sister republic, were deserted by that republic. that then all reliance of africander upon africander, and also all co-operation, would be for ever destroyed, and that it was a chimera to believe that thereafter the nation would rise again. if we wished to remain a people, now was the time to endure to the end. after referring to some matter which he had read of in the newspapers, he continued in the following forcible language: "all these things make me believe that we should commit national suicide if we now give in. therefore, brothers, continue to stand firm! do not make our suffering and all our efforts in the past to no purpose, and our trust in the god of our fathers be turned to mockery. encourage rather your weaker brethren." the president concluded this very remarkable letter with the question whether we were to desert the colonial burghers a second time. "may god forbid it!" he said. although the unfortunate letter of the government of the south african republic was three months old, and the feeling in the transvaal had since its date utterly changed, this sad correspondence, as was to be expected, gave fresh courage to the english. both letters were telegraphed, abbreviated and mutilated, to england, and the transvaal letter had, as i subsequently read in the newspapers, a beneficial influence (for england) in parliamentary circles. but, as i have already said, a different spirit had arisen in the transvaal. this president steyn found when immediately after the fight at graspan he, together with general de wet, judge hertzog, and general de la rey, visited the south african republic. he had not rested, after receipt of the letter from the transvaal government, but had immediately summoned not only general de wet and judge hertzog, but also the transvaal general de la rey (who had not been present at the transvaal meeting), to accompany him to the south african republic. when he arrived in that republic he found that the government had quite recovered from its despondency. this had been brought about especially by the following circumstance: the government had carried out its resolution to ask lord kitchener's leave to send a delegate to europe for the purpose of acquainting president kruger and the deputation with our condition, and to consult with them as to the continuance of the struggle. lord kitchener had refused to grant this, but had given permission to send a cablegram in the code of the netherlands consul. the state attorney, general smuts, and advocate de wet had gone to standerton, and sent a telegram in which the state of affairs was represented in as dark a light as possible. after a fortnight the reply came. it was short, and stated that although there was then no chance of intervention, we should nevertheless continue: the telegram said also that the two republics should co-operate. this was said in reference to a statement in the transvaal telegram saying that president steyn did not approve of giving in. moreover, two fights, in which our arms had been victorious and which took place just at that period of despondency, had served to encourage the transvaal government. one at vlakfontein, where general kemp, and the other at welmanrust, where commandant muller had engaged the english. these were important fights, and refuted what had been stated in the letter of the transvaal government to the effect that no battle of any importance could any more be fought. thus one thing and another had brought about such a change in the minds of the transvaal government, that when the president and his party met them there was no sign of dejection, and it was difficult to believe that they were the same persons who had instructed the state secretary to write the letter of the th of may. chapter xix days of thanksgiving and humiliation while president steyn was in the transvaal the two governments held a combined session, and prepared a proclamation in which the people were acquainted with what the government of the transvaal had telegraphed to president kruger, and what the reply had been. this document contained, besides the firm resolve of both governments to continue the war with all possible vigour, a proclamation calling upon everyone to join in a general thanksgiving on the th of august , and in a general day of prayer on the th. not only were the dates fixed and the objects for prayer and thanksgiving stated, but the proclamation also admonished us in what spirit we should set about it. very rarely, i believe, has a proclamation been issued by a government of modern times couched in similar terms. i was with the ficksburg burghers when this proclamation was read to them, and when i arrived at fouriesburg, on the th of july, i received a letter from the president asking me to be with him during the days of thanksgiving and humiliation. i now set out to seek him, where he had directed me, somewhere in the neighbourhood of nauwpoort. it so happened that just on the th of july i passed the spot where general hunter had encamped a year before, and where he had received the arms of many of the burghers who had given up the struggle at the unfortunate surrender of prinsloo. once more i marked the sharp contrast of light and shadow on the proud mountains; again i gazed on the beauty and grandeur of cliff, ravine, and torrent, and again i felt my insignificance in the awful presence of nature. but i was now in a different mood from that in which i was a year before. then i was despondent and discouraged; now i was buoyant and looked forward hopefully. then all was dark about me; now i looked up into the blue sky, and the future seemed nearly as bright and unclouded as the blue overhead. what a change the year had wrought. my son and i rode through the mountains at nauwpoort on the following day, and remained overnight under the roof of mr. abraham naudé. on the following day i rode to the house of mr. jan roos, to get further news about the whereabouts of the president, as the landdrost, mr. jan brand wessels, stayed there. there i heard about a gallant thing done by the burghers of harrismith under commandant jan jacobsz. early on the morning of th july a force of english, numbering about , and led by a kaffir, had attacked one of our guards in a kopje not far from mr. frederick moolman's house. the guards fled, abandoning horses and everything else. soon news of what had happened was brought to field-cornet frans jacobsz. he hurried to the scene with a handful of men and threw the english into confusion by firing on them. when the men belonging to the guard had procured new horses on the farm of mr. marthinus de jager, they returned and took part in the fight. the result of all this was that instead of the force, which had come from harrismith, capturing the burghers of commandant jacobsz, of them were taken prisoners and several killed and wounded. on our side only field-cornet jacobsz was wounded. the second day, after having passed through nauwpoort, i found the president on the farm of mr. wessel naudé. although he was somewhat indisposed, he was as buoyant as ever and showed no signs of discouragement. he told me, however, that he missed the presence of the old members of his government and of his bodyguard very much. mr. hendrik van niekerk, captain of the scouting corps raised in connection with the bodyguard, had been appointed in the place of commandant davel. the head of our state then was still full of hope! how i then, as always, envied persons of an optimistic nature, persons who never gave way to despair! if there were not men like president steyn and general de wet in the world, no obstacles, seemingly insuperable, would ever be surmounted. we held the solemn day of thanksgiving and of prayer--the first on the farm of mr. nicolaas kruger, the second on the farm of mr. willem blignaut, and then i parted from our lovable and indomitable president, in the hope of joining him shortly afterwards. but this did not happen until the th of october. chapter xx another british proclamation i went to witzieshoek to visit my friend mr. j. j. ross. what an elim the place was to me during the week i stayed there. the surroundings seemed to transport me two years back into the past. his children reminded me of my own! and the books in the study! i read--no, i tasted--here a line from this author, there a page from another, which is wrong!--oh, i know that! but still it satisfies a person of my temperament and tastes no less than, though perhaps more ethereally, it does the reader--yes, the reader--to devour every book, word for word, that he attacks. i skimmed--not that i always do this with books: no, generally i too read; but now i merely skimmed--here a little and there a little. besides, i had no time for _reading_. but i had experienced enough to know now, after having had so many months of the war, where to seek the greatest minds. i saw that the man who dips his pen in ink is greater than he who stains his sword with blood. the man who, out of sight and unaffected by the world's turmoil, gives his life to the thoughts which are born in travail, and which, whatever men may say, do rule the world--that man is greater than he who, in the great world outside, is made a hero of by a senseless rabble, because he leads a hundred thousand men. this man leads an army; that man leads the world. when i was at witzieshoek, the english passed through harrismith to bethlehem, as they were in the habit of doing almost every week. this time they had an extract from a proclamation by lord kitchener, which they left behind in their camps, on the buttresses of the bridge over elands river, and elsewhere. it was not long before the full text of the proclamation[ ] appeared, and this was not only sent to the governments, but officers came out with _flags of truce_ to the different commandos. [footnote : this proclamation runs as follows:-- proclamation. by his excellency, baron kitchener of khartoum, g.c.b., k.c.m.g., general commander-in-chief of his majesty's forces in south africa, high commissioner for south africa, administrator of the transvaal, etc. etc. etc. _whereas_ the late orange free state and south african republics have been annexed to his majesty's dominions: _and whereas_ his majesty's forces have for a considerable time been in full possession of both territories aforesaid, together with their public offices and all the machinery of administration, as well as of all the principal towns, and of the railways: _and whereas_ the great majority of the burghers of the two late republics, to the number of , , not counting those who have been killed in the war, are now prisoners of war, or have submitted to his majesty's government, and are now living quietly in villages or camps under the protection of his majesty's forces: _and whereas_ the burghers of the late republics who are now under arms against his majesty's forces are not only few in number, but have lost almost all their guns and munitions of war, and are without proper military organisation, and therefore unable to carry on regular warfare, or to offer any organised opposition to his majesty's forces in any portion of the country: _and whereas_ the burghers who are now still under arms, although unable to carry on regular warfare, continue to make attacks on small and isolated posts, and bodies of his majesty's forces, to rob and destroy property and to damage railway and telegraph lines, as well in the orange river colony as in the transvaal, and other portions of his majesty's south african dominions: _and whereas_ the country is thereby kept in a state of unrest, and the carrying on of agriculture and commerce is prevented: _and whereas_ his majesty's government has resolved to put an end to a condition which causes the useless shedding of blood, and needless destruction of property to continue, and is causing the ruin of the large majority of the population, who are desirous of living in peace, and to earn a livelihood for themselves and their families: _and whereas_ it is right to take steps against those who still resist, and especially against those persons who, having authority, are responsible for the continuance of the existing condition of affairs, and who are urging their fellow-burghers to persist in their hopeless resistance to his majesty's government: _therefore it is_ that i, horatio herbert, baron of khartoum, k.c.b., k.c.m.g, general commander-in-chief of his majesty's forces in south africa, high commissioner of south africa, by _order of his majesty's government_, proclaim and make known as follows:-- all commandants, field-cornets, and leaders of armed bands, being burghers of the late republics, who still continue to resist his majesty's forces in the orange river colony and transvaal, or any other portion of his majesty's south african possessions, and all members of the governments of the late orange river colony and the south african republic shall, unless they surrender before the th of september next, be for ever banished from south africa; the cost of support of families of burghers still in the field who shall not have surrendered before the th of september shall be claimable against such burghers, and shall be a charge upon their properties movable as well as immovable. _god save the king!_ given under my hand at pretoria this th day of august . kitchener, general, high commissioner of south africa.] this proclamation made known that the officers and members of the government would be banished from south africa if they did not surrender before the th of september ; and that the cost of support of the families of all burghers who were still under arms on that date would be claimable against such burghers, and would be a charge upon their properties, movable as well as immovable. the english had therefore again issued a proclamation. and how was this received by our burghers? many people declared that this proclamation was a sign of weakness; others spoke of it with the utmost contempt; the majority ignored it, and everyone looked forward to the th september, to see if it would actually be the case, as everyone expected that this proclamation would have no effect. meanwhile there was, as very frequently was the case, a great deal of talk about peace. peace would, it was said, come on the th of september. but the th of september came and went, and there was no peace. after that i never again heard that a day and date had been fixed on which there would come an end to the war. from witzieshoek i went to look for the president, but with the poor horses that i had i could not reach the place where he was. meanwhile i held services wherever i could, both on week-days and sundays, and where opportunity offered i noted down my experiences on commando. in this work i had to cope with peculiar difficulties. sometimes i wrote at a table, whilst at other times a window-sill served me as writing-desk; but the greatest portion of my book was written on the seat of my cart, whilst i sat crouched on the bottom. i did not always have good ink, and the first pages of my notes are written in various shades; i had even to use "nastagal" ink, made by our women. this ink was to me a new example of how inventive the africanders are. speaking of this gives me the opportunity of saying something about the many ways in which our people managed to lighten their burden of misery. our boots wore out, and men were appointed to tan hides and make boots; even women occupied themselves in this kind of work. the war had not been going for fifteen months when there was a great scarcity of soap. then our mothers and sisters boiled a very serviceable article with the help of the ashes of mealie-cobs and of various weeds. the english destroyed the mills everywhere; but mills were mounted on waggons and carried off when the english approached. one such mill ground more than fifty bags of corn in twenty-four hours. our corn was done before we had been fighting a year; but peas, mealies, kaffir-corn, rye, acorns, and dried peaches were used as substitutes. through dire necessity a fine old handicraft of our great grandmothers was revived: the spinning of wool, which was still plentiful in spite of the devastation of the enemy. our mothers and wives and daughters span wool beautifully, considering the nature of their spinning machines. spinning-wheels were fabricated in various ways from old sewing-machines, fruit-peelers, and so forth. i have seen socks knitted of yarn spun by these primitive machines, as fine and certainly stronger than those that can be bought in shops. our salt was at last quite exhausted, and this was a cause of great anxiety, especially in districts such as harrismith, where there were no salt-pans; but here again our distress was relieved, for wells were dug in the pans, where no one would have thought of digging before, and salt water was found. "everything," it was often remarked, "was scarce; but nothing completely lacking." we toiled or plodded along, suffering in silence, where there was no help for it, but we generally managed to find a way out of the difficulty. no suffering was too severe, no sacrifice too great but was gladly undergone or made for the realisation of the great ideal we were striving for. what particularly struck me during this period was the boundless wealth of the orange free state. where all the cattle came from after the immense devastation by the enemy was beyond my comprehension. we never were in want of grain, notwithstanding the tens of thousands of tons of wheat and maize destroyed or rendered unfit for consumption by the british. and when on a few farms in the grain districts and elsewhere there was still some wheat over, the fields were again waving, and at the harvest time they stood yellow for reaping. the problem of clothing was also solved. i saw several overcoats made from sheepskins, which answered well. some burghers wore complete suits made of leather. when one's clothes wore out they were mended with patches of leather, and then the garments were called "armoured" coats or pairs of trousers. besides this, money was taken to basutoland, and great quantities of clothing were bought and secretly brought to the free state. this was constantly done notwithstanding the strict vigilance of the enemy. and then there was the "shaking out" of soldiers; that is, when a soldier was captured his clothes were taken from him and worn by such burghers as needed them. who will condemn this action? the enemy had not only cut off all our means of import, so that we were completely isolated, but had done their utmost to burn our clothes wherever they could. whenever, then, a soldier fell into our hands, the english supplied us with a suit of clothes. they provided us in the same way with ammunition. since the commencement of the scarcity of ammunition had caused us much anxiety. many who were loyal began to ask with misgivings whether this would not ultimately force us to surrender. but our enemy supplied us. in the later stages of the war we had scarcely any ammunition at all, except what we got from england. we were completely dependent on great britain, who took care that we should never be wholly in need. as president steyn wrote to the transvaal government: "after every fight we had enough ammunition to commence another with." towards the end of the war one seldom saw burghers armed with mausers. the enemy were fought with their own rifles and their own ammunition. has this often happened in the history of the world? sunday, th of september, was the day fixed by lord kitchener on which the officers and men were given a last opportunity to lay down their arms without detriment to themselves. the day came, and who had surrendered? i only heard of two cases in the districts of vrede and harrismith. besides these, general brand reported that about twenty men from his districts had gone to the enemy. i also heard of one or two cases in other parts of our country. the proclamation thus was of little effect. there had been a time when the boers fell like ripe grain before the scythe of british proclamations. that time was passed, and the big words and threats of lord kitchener were now of no effect. this must be attributed partly to the fact that lord roberts had not acted in good faith in relation to what he had promised in his proclamations; but the chief cause of the firmness of the burghers now was owing, as general de wet used to say, to the men having been "sifted": the chaff was gone, the wheat had remained. the winds of destruction and the rain-torrents of devastation had finished their work of attrition on the mountain of africanderdom. the soft loose soil had been washed away, only the bed-rock remained. and what shall i say of those--our own flesh and blood--who went over to the enemy? renegades!--what can i say? that most of them gave up their arms to the enemy in moments of despondency i can understand, for i, too, know what dejection is; but that there were others who drew sword for the english and against us is hard to understand. but the traitor, god will punish. it must not, however, be forgotten that it is not unprecedented in an unformed nation for the faint-hearted to desert to the enemy. such a nation still lacks the powerful _esprit de corps_ which is born of the traditions of the past. there were thousands of deserters, traitors, and renegades amongst the americans during their great struggle. but the fierce flame of this war has welded us together. the war with england towers in our past as something mighty and heroic. the future must always be influenced by it, and our children, looking back, will realise how close the ties are between themselves and their fathers, and thereby they will be drawn together into one united people. chapter xxi how the president passed his time on sunday, th september , i held services in the house of mr. gerrit aveling at wagenmakers vlei, after having, during the past week, addressed the burghers in different parts of the district of vrede. it was my intention now to visit my own congregation, and i had already written to commandant meyer to arrange for the holding of services for his men. but this could not take place. the english had already marched out of harrismith, and on monday we heard that they had arrived in the neighbourhood of sandhurst, the farm of mr. hermanus wessels. the people living in the vicinity of where i was immediately took to flight, and i temporarily joined the company of mr. jan adendorf. on tuesday the english came as far as the farm of mr. adendorf, christina, and from there a small number of them went to natal, while the rest were sent about seizing cattle everywhere and otherwise conducting themselves after their wont. they did not, however, burn down houses now, but where they found property that the owners had carried out of their houses and hidden, they consigned this to the flames. my son was now taken prisoner by the english, along with assistant field-cornet gert van deventer, and the burgher thys uys. he had remained behind to fight. one evening it appeared that the english were retiring from ottershoek to brakfontein, and field-cornet van deventer thought it was safe enough to sleep in a house. he with the two others therefore went to the homestead of mrs. swart. but there was a kaffir there who saw them, and when it got dark he went and informed the english. the consequence was that at daylight the following morning these three, together with the two little sons of mrs. swart, were taken prisoners. the news was brought me when i was not far from woodside. it may be imagined that after my son and i had been chums for so long i felt very lonely. but i was more anxious about him than about myself, because i knew that he would be uneasy about me. it was some consolation, however, that he had been captured and not killed. meanwhile i had almost without noticing got into a women's laager. during the flight the company in which one finds oneself keeps increasing in numbers--_vires acquirit eundo_. and now i thought that it was not advisable to remain in a women's laager; for i did not wish to expose myself to the chance of being captured again in the same manner as on the th of june at graspan. therefore, on the day after the news reached me of my son's capture, i took leave of the good friends with whom i had spent some days, and went to general wessels. i arrived there the following day, having spent the night at the farm of mr. kootje muller. others of the english had meanwhile come from standerton and reached woodside; and before i was well aware of it i was again one of a number of fugitives. separating myself from them, when i learnt that the english had retired from woodside, i soon found myself, now for the third time, again in a laager of women. this laager was a harrismith one, under ex-commandant truter and mr. james howell. i now thought that i should be able to accompany this laager to the district of harrismith, and thus realise my wish to visit my own congregation. but in this i was again disappointed, for on tuesday, the th of october, we nearly drove into the english, who were at newmarket. i therefore left them, and for the present gave up the idea of visiting the harrismith people. an incorrect report, stating that the english were advancing from frankfort up the wilge river, prevented my crossing that river, as i had intended to do, and i remained the fellow-fugitive of mr. piet de jager for a week. from his farm i then went to his brother's, michal de jager, and when i had been there two days i heard from the president. he wrote me a letter wherein he informed me where i should find him. i started immediately, and on the th of october i arrived in his laager, and resolved, at his friendly request, to remain with him. life was now again the old commando life that i had not known since january. we knew of no roof but that which spreads over all the earth. on the grass we spent our time, sitting by our carts or saddles, or lying down where we happened to be. we ate, drank, and slept under the open sky. it did sometimes happen that the housewives invited their president to their tables, and that such invitations were not declined; but he never went to sleep in a house unless rainy weather forced him to do so. and even this was not done whenever the enemy was in the vicinity. commandant van niekerk constantly received reports from his outposts, which were placed at a certain distance from the laager. they always kept him informed as to the movements of the enemy, and he made the little laager shift every evening according to circumstances. we very seldom slept at the same place on two consecutive nights, and thus, in spite of ourselves, had to undergo the penalty of wandering. to be always ready for what might happen, the horses were brought from the veld every morning at two o'clock and held until the patrols brought a report later in the morning that all was safe. the president's horse stood ready saddled from that hour. the president never took off his boots at night, and was therefore ready every moment to mount his horse. i always took off my boots at night, unless the enemy was very near. but i was more circumspect with regard to the safety of my ms. i never let it off my person. i made a little bag of old linen, placed my ms. in it, and wore it under my waistcoat, whenever the english were approaching. if anything should happen there would be a chance, provided the enemy did not "shake me out," that my book would not be lost for the second time as at graspan. the distance which we "trekked" every night depended upon how far we were away from the english. if they were far away, we only travelled three or four miles; if they came nearer, we were sometimes obliged to push on during the whole night in order to pass through between them or to get round them. so i again led the old commando life. but though we were exposed to much discomfort, the time passed rapidly, especially as we had something to read in the laager. newspapers, picked up where the english had camped, reached us from all sides. and before the carts were done away with, we carried on them a small library. here is an incomplete catalogue of our books: _krieg und frieden_, a german translation of tolstoi's _war and peace_, _anna karénina_, some books of poetry, a book on physics, a history of the american war, some theological works, a little book containing extracts from seneca in english, a biography of savonarola. my pastime was writing. i was incessantly sitting cramped at the seat of my cart writing my notes. yes, the time passed rapidly! before we were aware of it a week was gone, and sunday with its divine service had come. this consoled me, for the thought constantly occurred to me that we were not crawling but flying towards the end. chapter xxii a despatch from the government of the south african republic i had hardly arrived in president steyn's laager when i heard of a proclamation issued by him, in consultation with the council of war, dated the nd of november , whereby it was made lawful that boys of fourteen years old, when their physical condition and health permitted, should be "commandeered." it was as if a sword had pierced my heart when i heard of this proclamation. our government had signalled that the fatherland expected not only every man, but also every child to do his duty. it was at this time, perhaps in consequence of this proclamation, that the english began to tear away little boys from their mothers, and not only those of fourteen and over, but also those under that age; even children of eight were mercilessly dragged away. immediately after i had joined the president his laager proceeded in the direction of lindley. we had now an opportunity of visiting our hospital under the charge of dr. fourie, at the farm of mr. david malan. then we went in the direction of senekal to meet general kritzinger, who had been driven over the border of the cape colony by general french, and was now staying in the free state to let his horses rest a while. on sunday, the rd of november, we held service, near biddulphsberg, on the farm of mr. leendert muller, and there general kritzinger was also present. the president then resolved to be at little clocolan on the following sunday, to address the colonists under kritzinger on the occasion of divine service being held. this took place at the farm of mrs. bornman. on our way thither something occurred which caused some uneasiness to the president and the members of the executive council. general de wet sent a report after him, stating that a letter had arrived from the transvaal, and he asked president steyn to fix a place where the executive council could meet for the purpose of considering that letter. the president fixed on the house of christoffel de jager at sand river, and rode back twelve miles to that spot. the letter in question asked whether we should not again try to enter into negotiations with the british government, and to make a proposal for peace. the transvaal government proposed that as a basis of negotiation there might be discussed such points as equal rights for the dutch and english languages, religious liberty, costs of the war, an offensive and defensive alliance as far as south africa was concerned, etc. president steyn replied on behalf of the executive council, that in his reply to lord kitchener he had already proposed to negotiate upon the condition that the republics should retain their independence, and that the result was well known. further, he said that he could not discuss all the points suggested by the transvaal government _seriatim_, but if there was to be a proposal for an offensive or defensive alliance with england, then we might as well recall the deputation from europe. chapter xxiii the president returns to the plains we had a pleasant time in the grain districts. there was an abundance of bread and no scarcity of slaughter-cattle. we also found wild-honey in the fissures of the rocks. everything looked fresh and full of life in the early spring. the veld was green, and the trees heavily laden with young fruit gave promise of a good harvest. all the wheat-fields looked splendid, and at many places we noticed that people would reap where they had not sown; for everywhere there were fields where the seed which had fallen on the ground the previous year had again sprouted and was growing luxuriantly enough to be harvested. what a beautiful mountainous country the "conquered territory" is! is it not the crown of the orange free state? we spent a pleasant time; but it could not continue, as we were in danger of english columns which were constantly marching to and fro from winburg to bethlehem. one of these columns, which was just then passing from bethlehem to senekal, took our only africander medical man, dr. fourie, prisoner in his hospital at the farm of david malan. we should now have been wholly without a doctor if mr. poutsma, who on the occasion of general de wet's second attempt to enter the cape colony had been captured by the english, had not cast in his lot with us again. the english had let him return to holland, and now he had come back from there to south africa. he was welcomed by us, and the house of mrs. de jager at the farm bezuidenhout's drift on wilge river was arranged as a hospital for him. we could not then remain in the "conquered territory." we therefore resolved to return to the plains around lindley and reitz. on sunday, the th of november, we were on the farm of mr. claesens, near wonder kop, and i held service under the trees in the garden there for the burghers, and for two large women's laagers, that were fleeing for fear of the english. three days after we were at the farm of mr. w. prinsloo. here general de wet visited the president, and a meeting of the executive council was held. the general informed the president here that it was his intention to form a large flying commando for service against the english wherever an opportunity offered. this commando was to consist of burghers from bethlehem under general prinsloo and commandant olivier; and, further, of men from heilbron under commandant van coller; kroonstad, under commandant celliers; ladybrand, under commandant koen; vrede, under commandant botha; and the transvaalers who were at that time in harrismith district, under commandant mears. general de wet left in the afternoon, and in the evening we trekked towards wit kop, and halted for the night on the ledges near mr. krog's farm, between wit kop and wonder kop. the english were once more on the road from winburg to senekal, and commandant van niekerk intended passing round their front; but just as he was on the point of doing this, a false report was brought him that a force of english was also approaching senekal from harrismith, and that they had got as far as rexford. the commandant now determined to pass round the rear of the enemy, and a start was made in the afternoon. we had not, however, progressed very far before we learned that the report that the english were at rexford was untrue. commandant van niekerk now decided to carry out his original intention, and the commando returned to the ledges by a round-about way. the following day, sunday, the commando again proceeded, passing over driekuil and to the east of tafel kop, where we halted until dark. in the clear moonlight we then went on, passing east of biddulphsberg, and at eleven o'clock we were near leendert muller's farm. there an occurrence took place which afforded a slight change in the monotony of the night march. our scouts, who rode about two hundred yards ahead, saw two horsemen riding towards them and put them to flight. they were very nearly fired upon, but luckily both parties perceived betimes that they were friends. the two men proved to be burghers, who, along with some others, had charge of a women's laager not far off. they told us that on the west the english from winburg had advanced as far as the farm of christoffel de jager--which fact we were aware of ourselves--and that to the east there were others from bethlehem, at scheur klip; and furthermore, that there were british camps in front of us at blauw kopje and elsewhere. it was now too dangerous to go on, and there was nothing to be done but to return, which we did. and when the eastern sky was reddening with the light of dawn, we were back on the farm driekuil. it was lucky for us that we did this, for on tuesday morning the english from bethlehem made a sortie towards kaffir's kop, which lay directly in our route. we remained in the neighbourhood of driekuil till thursday, th november, and then rode through the night over pietersdal, bester's kop, and across the bethlehem road, till we reached the farm nooitgedacht, near kaffir's kop. on the following morning we were in the immediate vicinity of a fight which general de wet was having with the english not far south of lindley. he arrested their progress, and they retired that night to the farm of caspar kruger at victoria spruit. on the following day the english had disappeared in the direction of heilbron, abandoning five waggons. these waggons were loaded with flour, sugar, tobacco, blankets and tents. chapter xxiv the english lay waste the country about lindley it was in the beginning of december that we returned to the plains, and on the rd and th the president visited the great flying commando at lindley. on the second day he addressed the men. here we met judge hertzog, who had come from the western districts to discuss some important matters with president steyn. he remained with the president, while he awaited an answer to a letter written to the transvaal with relation to his visit there. a service was to be held in the town on sunday, the th of december. instead of this a fight took place there. the english were seen early on that day advancing from valsch river bridge. general de wet gave orders that one portion of the burghers should take up positions on either side of the kroonstad road, and the others a position to the east of it, near the plat kopje. i witnessed the whole affair. the enemy were in overwhelming force, and slowly advanced in widely extended order. it was impossible for our men to hold their positions. the burghers on the kroonstad road were the first to give way. they took up positions on the kopjes where, more than a year before, the yeomanry had surrendered. shortly after the men on the right flank at the plat kop had also to retire. i then saw large numbers of the english come out over the ridges. how few our little groups of burghers seemed in comparison to the large numbers that made their appearance there. everything was now in the power of the english. they could bombard the yeomanry kopjes, and our burghers had to desert them also. it was not long before the whole commando was in full retreat towards elandsfontein. during the next couple of days the english did as they liked, without any resistance being offered them. they went about everywhere in the neighbourhood, devastated the farms, and took away the cattle with which our people had not fled. when the president returned there on the th of december, after the departure of the english, i heard from the women how sadly things had gone. they were, it is true, not taken away, but they were driven out of their houses, and had to see their dwellings burnt down or destroyed before their very eyes. could inhumanity go further? if the english did not wish to exterminate us, what then did they mean by driving weak women and children out of doors and destroying the houses? all the food of the women was carried away or scattered upon the ground; and it was only through the kind-heartedness of here and there a more humane officer, or of some simple "tommy," that a dish of flour was secretly left behind for the housewife. what made everything still more sad was the great service rendered by traitorous africanders as guides to the enemy. mrs. gert van niekerk of windbult told me what had happened to her before the eyes of one of these, ex-general piet de wet. alas! that i should have to record it, but-- "'tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true." these africanders made it possible for the english to travel long distances at night, and, acquainted as they were with the habits of their countrymen, they enabled the english to capture boers, and to seize cattle, where otherwise they would have been unable to do so, or at least could not have done so without infinitely more trouble. how must every noble sentiment have been stifled in these men! it is impossible to comprehend how they could have endured listening to the constant abuse which in the camps was heaped on their own race--incomprehensible how they could constantly, from one farm to another, look on the misery which they were helping to bring upon women and children--who were their own flesh and blood. from mrs. niekerk, then, i heard how she had fared. the english came to the farm windbult about ten o'clock on the th of december, and immediately began to strike the doors, windows, and furniture with axes and hammers, smashing and demolishing everything. if mrs. van niekerk attempted to save anything it was snatched from her hands and broken to atoms. but her daughter, helped by an africander serving under the english, succeeded in carrying out some beds, chairs, and smaller articles. meanwhile ex-general de wet carried on a conversation with mrs. van niekerk, whom he had formerly, as her neighbour, known very intimately. this conversation ran nearly as follows:-- _p. de wet._ do tell the burghers that it is a lost cause. try to persuade them that they are blindly going astray. _mrs. v. niekerk._ i will do no such thing. _p. de wet._ it is against the bible to continue the war; for we read that a king must consider if with ten thousand men he is able to meet his opponent who is coming against him with twenty thousand. _mrs. v. niekerk._ but, piet, you were a commandant yourself; what did you think of our small numbers against our mighty foe then? _p. de wet._ my eyes were opened later. i have seen my mistake.... but it is just christian de wet and old steyn who keep the thing going by telling lies to the burghers. mrs. van niekerk had meanwhile kept her eyes constantly fixed on the soldiers who were destroying her property. pointing at the ruins, she appealed to such sense of right as she thought might still be left in the man, for whom in happier days she had had much respect, and asked: "are you not ashamed, piet? see how you are ruining us." and what was his reply?--what? i do not know how to describe it, so feeble it was,--this: "and why do you ruin england so?" the conversation continued as follows:-- _p. de wet._ the country is lost. _mrs. v. niekerk._ no, the country is not lost. you are masters for the moment wherever your camps stand. elsewhere the burghers do what they like and go wherever they choose. _p. de wet._ wait a bit, till the , men who are still to come from england are here, and the blockhouses which are to be built from town to town are completed.--aunt, do tell the burghers what i now tell to you--all is lost. do tell the burghers so. _mrs. v. niekerk._ i will not do so. besides, it would be in vain. involuntarily she thought of days gone by, when the man who now stood before her came to her house under conditions so entirely different. "oh piet," she said, "have we not prayed together, you and i, in our prayer-meetings, in this very house, that is now being turned into a heap of ruins? alas! the image which i then saw in you, i see no more. you have forsaken god." "no," he said; "all of you have done that. and as regards prayer-meetings, every sunday we do that.... but the consciences of the burghers who are still fighting have become seared." the house was destroyed; where the doors and windows were, yawning openings gaped. the beams were sawn down, a partition wall thrown down, and the roof fell in,--all this in the presence of mrs. van niekerk and piet de wet. the poor woman then went to an outer storehouse, but the english would not allow her to remain there, and she took refuge in a miserable hut used for storing dry cow-dung for fuel. but on the following day she had to move out of there too, as the enemy said they needed the place to fire from. and so she and her daughter were now stranded on her own premises without the least protection from wind or weather. but this did not last long. the english ordered her and her daughter to get into a waggon, saying that they would take her to kroonstad. this, however, they did not do; but informed her on the road, that they would leave her with a woman, and in the afternoon made her alight at the house of field-cornet thys de beer. this building was in flames, and mrs. de beer was outside with her children, one of whom was a sick baby. the women and children spent that night in a small lean-to, which luckily had not been burnt down. when mrs. van niekerk's son, jurie, rode to their house on the same day, to see how his mother was doing, some english were concealed in the hut where the fuel was kept. they allowed him to approach, and one of the soldiers called out, "hands up!" "hands up, you!" said jurie van niekerk, and fired his revolver at them. but there were too many ready for him, and he immediately fell, mortally wounded, by three bullets. the day after, his father, gert van niekerk, returned to his house. he was quite alone, and viewed the ruin of his home. but who shall describe his thoughts when he--standing there all alone--found the still unburied corpse of his son! the english returned, after having killed a great many sheep and taken much cattle. still, great numbers of cattle were saved by the burghers at night. dingaan's day with its memories of happy rejoicings once more arrived. i had ridden to be with the commando on that day, but wherever i came i always found that it had moved away before me, so that i could celebrate the day with but a small number of people. on the th of december the president was on the left bank of tijger kloof, and it was there that the news of commandant hasebroek's death reached him. a few days later we learnt that on the th of december he unexpectedly encountered a number of english, and that, while galloping away from them, he received a bullet through his head. so he too had given his life for his country's freedom! posterity will keep the memory of the gallant commandant green. he was a man of noble character. opposed to all hypocrisy, he was frank and open-hearted, and never hesitated to express his opinions fearlessly to anyone, whoever he might be. he was the idol of his men, and looked after their wants as if they were his children. he was ever the first to enter a position--the last to leave it. he was a tower of strength to our cause; when nearly everyone was discouraged at nauwpoort, his courage never wavered. if it had not been for him and a mere handful of others like him, who knew not what it was to despair, our whole fighting force would have surrendered to the enemy like cowards. brave, resolute commandant, i reverently lay a wreath upon your grave! before i bring this chapter to a close, i must add that when president steyn was retiring from lindley he had received a letter from lord kitchener (in consequence of a letter from vice-president schalk burger to lord salisbury, in which he complained about the removal and ill-treatment of our women and the bad treatment they received in the camps). lord kitchener wrote on the st december to the two presidents, and said, amongst other things, that as the presidents complained of the treatment of women and children, and as they must therefore be able to look after them, he had the honour to inform them that all women and children at present in his camps who were willing to leave, would be sent to the presidents. lord kitchener said he would be pleased to hear where the presidents desired the women and children to be handed to them. president steyn answered that he could not receive them, especially as lord kitchener had not only had all the houses destroyed, but also the bedding of the women and children. chapter xxv two important engagements we passed to the south-east of reitz and came to the farm inloop, belonging to mr. gert van rensburg. on our way thither i left the commando to go to the office of landdrost serfontein, in order to visit the unfortunate de lange there, who was sentenced to death by a court-martial for high treason. i found him in very sad circumstances; but he was sustained by religion. he passed all his time in prayer and in reading the bible. unfortunately his sentence was not carried out on the appointed day. he was taken to reitz, his grave was ready, everything was prepared for the enactment of the sad tragedy; but the persons who had to carry out the sentence did not appear. two days later, on the st of december, he was shot while kneeling before his grave in prayer. general wessel wessels had been charged with the sending of a party of men to execute the sentence, but on that day when this had to be done all his attention was occupied by the english near tafel kop. the english were busy building blockhouses from the drakensberg to vrede, and general wessels was waiting for an opportunity to attack them. on the following day the opportunity came. there were three forces of british, when general wessels, supported by the commandants ross and botha, gave orders that one of these forces should be attacked. he had about a hundred and thirty or forty men, while the force attacked were in far greater numbers, and were provided besides with two armstrong guns, two maxim-nordenfeldts, and one maxim. our burghers galloped over a bare plain for nearly three and a half miles, up to the enemy, who were on a kopje. the english let them come up to six hundred yards, and then opened fire on them with shrapnel. their maxims also and their rifles came into play. but the burghers were not to be checked. soon they were so close that they silenced the guns by shooting down the gunners. they then charged up close to the enemy, and there were in some cases hand-to-hand encounters, some of the combatants striking one another with their rifle-butts. the english were stubborn and fought very bravely; but in a short time everything was in the hands of our burghers. some of the english took to flight, and very many were killed and wounded. all the field-pieces were now in possession of general wessels; but before they could be got away, one of the other two columns turned up from the direction of paardenberg. this force was repulsed thrice, and our burghers would have got off with the guns had not the third force appeared from the direction of wilge river. the only thing to be done now was to gallop out, and abandon the captured cannon. this was only done with the greatest difficulty. the one column was a thousand yards to the right, and the other a hundred to the left; some of the troops were already immediately in front of our men. but fortunately they got through without casualty. unhappily, however, five men had been killed and four wounded in the storming of the kopje. immediately after assistant commandant de kock came in contact on the farm beginsel with the column, which had come up as a reinforcement from wilge river. he undoubtedly caused them some considerable loss, for five ambulance waggons were later on busy with the casualties there. commandant de kock had, however, also to retire before this column, after he had engaged it for an hour and a half, because a reinforcement made its appearance, and directed the fire of their cannon at him. he had no casualties. we found out afterwards that the force which general wessels attacked was that under major damant, while the one that attacked commandant de kock was commanded by colonel rimington. christmas day had come again. i was not so low-spirited as on the last celebration of this memorable day. this must be ascribed to the fact that we spent the day pleasantly at liebenberg's vlei at the house of mr. juri kemp. i could never have believed that, after a long struggle of two years and two months, we should be able to see such abundance on a table as that which mrs. kemp and her daughters provided there. it could not have been surpassed in times of peace. notwithstanding the want of sugar, the sweet was not absent. the bees had supplied that. it did us good, in the midst of our troubles, to enjoy some pleasant hours, and we did not forget the religious character of the day. in the morning we held service at "fanny's home," and in the afternoon at mr. kemp's house. in the midst of all this joy i did not know that my son was dead eleven days. it was the same thing over again that evening when we, at some distance from this pleasant scene, were ready again to retire to rest on the grass. before we did so a rumour came that general de wet had captured a camp of the enemy early that morning. his report of this event reached the president the following morning. from this report, and from what i heard from the mouths of many who were in the fight, i give the following account of the attack:-- the english were building blockhouses from harrismith to bethlehem, and their advance force, strong, under command temporarily of major williams, was camped at groenkop on the farm tweefontein in the district of bethlehem. general de wet had, since he had collected the large commando, sought for an opportunity to come in contact with the enemy. after what had occurred at lindley, and a fight later near langberg, which however had not been a success for us, he had as yet done nothing. when, however, christmas was approaching, he thought that it would be the right time for him to act, and the force at groenkop drew his attention. he reconnoitred himself, and resolved to make an attack on the night between the th and th december. he gave the necessary orders late in the night of the th, and general prinsloo and the commandants marched out with him to the hill. it was a bright moonlit night, and there was some danger that the advancing force might be seen from above long before the hill could be reached. but fortunately there were clouds floating in the air, which everywhere threw shadows upon the plain, over which the commando had to pass, and it reassured the burghers when they thought that the several divisions might look from the hills like patches of shadow below. there were dongas near the foot of the hill. our men passed safely through these, and a little farther on they dismounted and began the ascent. it was then two o'clock in the morning. the heilbron and kroonstad burghers, under the commandants van coller and celliers, ascended on the left towards the north, whilst the men of bethlehem, under general prinsloo and commandant olivier, formed the right wing. in the centre were the men of vrede and harrismith, under commandants hermanus botha and jan jacobsz, together with commandant mears and his men. the burghers were in the best of spirits. they climbed the hill, the one striving to pass the other. "it was splendid to see how they charged," one man said to me. "they went up like a swarm of locusts." there were three encampments of sandstone over which our men had to pass before they could get to the top. over the first they had clambered, when there came the usual "halt! who goes there?" then the sound of a whistle was heard, and immediately thereupon the enemy began to fire. our burghers advanced with all the more determination over the other two ledges of sandstone, shouting, "merry christmas," etc., and rushed upon the entrenchments. the english fired twice with grapeshot and several times with the maxim-nordenfeldt, but those who were serving the guns were killed, wounded, or forced to surrender, as was the case with one who was just putting a belt into the maxim-nordenfeldt. the forts were soon taken, excepting one on the right hand, and it was from it that most of our burghers who fell were shot; as soon, however, as general prinsloo noticed the heavy fire from that fort, he stormed and soon silenced it. our burghers now fired on the tents, and many english were killed and wounded in them. many also fled half dressed from the tents, forming, as they ran, movable targets for our men. "within half an hour," so general de wet stated in his report, "all the forts were taken, and the cannon and the whole of the camp were in our hands. the enemy fled, fighting all the while, to at least two or three hundred yards outside their camp, and the fight continued for another hour and a half.... i must say that i have never seen better fighting against an entrenched place. our officers and burghers literally marched right through the camp. the booty consisted of a -pounder armstrong, a maxim-nordenfeldt, a maxim, and many lee-metford rifles. much ammunition, twenty-seven waggons, laden with all kinds of provision; overcoats, blankets, and about horses and mules were captured." poor tommy!--yes, let me speak tenderly of him, however i might otherwise express myself when speaking in the abstract of the english people, or in the concrete of chamberlain, milner, and many officers of the british army,--poor tommy had received his plum-pudding, tobacco, and new uniform (christmas presents), and on the evening before he had made a parcel of them and laid it at his pillow with the object of putting it on and enjoying it in the morning. for many a tommy the morning light did not dawn, and for not one of them came the enjoyment of his christmas fare. our loss was considerable. "we have," so general de wet reported, "to mourn the loss of fourteen men--heroes!--dead; amongst whom are the gallant commandant olivier of bethlehem, field-cornet m. lourens of the ward, lower bethlehem, and assistant field-cornet jan dalebout of harrismith." besides field-cornet dalebout i personally had to lament the death of another harrismith man, jacob kok. the number of our wounded was . the loss of the enemy was great: were taken prisoners, and, excepting the few who succeeded in escaping, the rest were either wounded or killed. major williams was also amongst the killed. general brand and commandant coetzee, who had just come from the west on a visit to general de wet, took part in the fight, and their services were highly valued by the general. at eight o'clock an english reinforcement came from elands river bridge; but by that time our people had already gone off with the booty. the prisoners-of-war were partially "shaken out" and sent over the basuto border. prisoners-of-war released!--what a strange war this war of ours was. we had no ammunition but that which we got from the enemy; hardly any clothes but those provided us by our adversaries. and when we took soldiers prisoners, then--they were set free! chapter xxvi our case grows more and more desperate blockhouses were also erected in the northern and south-eastern portions of the orange free state. one line from kroonstad to lindley was finished towards the middle of december; another from botha's pass to vrede and frankfort at the end of the year; and a third from harrismith to bethlehem shut off, with the portion that had already been built from fouriesburg to bethlehem, the grain districts behind nauwpoort, about the middle of january . people had all kinds of ideas about these blockhouses. some thought that they did not signify much, and might be compared to the flags which are sometimes planted in front of a flock of sheep. at first the sheep remain within the line, but soon they find that the flags form no insuperable barrier, and then they graze up to, and then to the other side of the flags. others again could not conceal their fears. the english, they thought, were making the circle narrower, and we should eventually have to flee from place to place until we were overtaken and overwhelmed by superior forces. we soon found that there was truth in both views. the circle was drawn closer and closer. if the english columns were marching about, we had to keep our horses tied at nights to be ready every moment to retire to the right or to the left, so as not to be driven against the blockhouses, or we had to retreat before the enemy until near some line of blockhouses, and then suddenly face about and either pass between our pursuers or go round them. on the other hand, the danger of the blockhouses was not so great as had been feared. burghers could always pass them on horseback, and sometimes they even did so with carts and herds of cattle. . the new year had again come; and with the year new trouble and ever-increasing distress. it was not easy for us, in spite of all that had thus constantly gone against us, to remain hopeful. now and then we read something in the newspapers, picked up on the spots where the english had encamped, that encouraged us somewhat. what we read of anglophobia in germany would cheer us up a little and revive the expectation in us that the war would soon be over. but when we would read in the same papers that the english government was resolved to continue the war at all costs, and when we were constantly eye-witnesses of the uncivilised manner in which the troops carried on the war, then, as far at least as i was concerned, there appeared to be no prospect of a speedy termination--no sign in our clouded sky that the storm was breaking. "watchman," so i seemed to cry, "what of the night? what of the night?" and it was as if i always received the answer: "the morning has come, and yet it is night." what especially did not tend to encourage was the increasing violence with which the english continued their destructive work. this took place in the districts to the east of lindley, chiefly in the month from th january to th february. especially was this the case where the column of colonel rimington passed. colonel rimington now passed through portions of the districts of bethlehem and harrismith, in the neighbourhood of reitz. when he came to a farmhouse, the first questions of his officers and soldiers to the housewife were, "where is your husband? where is de wet? where is steyn? where are the boers?" the woman could honestly reply that she did not know, whereupon they threatened to burn down her house, if she gave no information; and while the conversation was still going on she was summarily ordered to carry out her bedding; the soldiers would then with loaded guns and fixed bayonets storm into the house to seek for boers, under the beds and in clothes presses. they then smashed the looking-glasses, so that the boers should make no heliographs of them. further, they took everything they wanted to: pillow-cases to serve as bags for fruit, etc., sheets, knives and forks, even when these had already been carried out along with the bedding. pots and pans the housewife might in no case retain, even all the dishes and plates were smashed. worse still, the woman was robbed of all her food; what the soldiers could not eat, such as flour, was thrown out upon the ground, and trodden under foot in the mud and dirt. bread was never spared; out of the bin, from the table, or hot from the oven, it was taken, and not a crumb left behind. if there were any meat in pot and pan on the fire, then it was carried off, pot and pan and all. and thus the soldiers took the food out of the children's mouths. the mother remained behind with nothing. if she asked what she was to give her two, three, or six children to eat, the rough retort was, "ask de wet that?" "never," said one woman to me, "was it so hard for me, as when my children cried to me for bread, and i had nothing to give them." and then the soldiers would ride away to do the same at the next house. the woman left behind at the ruins of her house, took some of the zinc plates, laid them sloping against the wall of her destroyed house, and remained there until her husband came and brought her some food, and made a dwelling for her again, as well as he was able. besides, all this i have heard from women that fearfully insulting language was used towards them by the rude soldiers. this certainly was not indulged in by all, for, as the woman readily admitted, there were some camps which passed through that were blameless. the armed kaffirs revelled in being able to address the women familiarly with "thou" and "thee." "where is your (jou) husband?--if he were here now i would shoot him dead." and they marched through the house as freely as the soldiers did. it often happened that the soldiers broke into a house late at night, and forced their way even into the bedrooms, where the women lay in bed, under pretext of hunting for hidden boers. on the th of january the column of colonel rimington came to our hospital at bezuidenhout's drift. notwithstanding that dr. poutsma had been allowed by lord kitchener to come and practise amongst us, and that the red cross flag was displayed that morning, as usual, over two of the buildings, and over the ambulance waggon, some soldiers stormed the hospital. this is what dr. poutsma, _inter alia_, says in an affidavit: "in and around the building shots were fired, and about fifteen yards from me, at the back door, a horseman dismounted, and kneeling down fired at me. 'hands up!' he cried, and notwithstanding that i was, of course, unarmed, and moreover had put up my hands, he continued firing, whereupon i fled into the house. when i got to the kitchen some shots were sent after me, but wonderful to relate, without the intended result, as was the case also with six revolver shots which a captain fired partly at me, partly into the kitchen, and partly into the large sick ward. the captain in question, whose name is unknown to me, was so disappointed at all his shots having missed me, that he sprang towards me with the empty revolver, pushed it under my nose, and shouted, 'i'm damned sorry that i didn't shoot you.' "meanwhile the shooting inside the house continued at the three nursing-sisters, the assistant a. van toorenenbergen, and at me, and, most horrible of all, at the helpless wounded burghers who lay on their beds. i saw one of the soldiers outside kneeling down, and resting his gun on the window-sill he fired two shots at the wounded burgher wessels, who, however was not hit, but was covered with dust from the wall beside him, where it was struck by the bullet." the doctor now went to the veranda, and was there arrested by order of a major. but when the assistant mr. van toorenenbergen shouted, "doctor, sister rautenbach is wounded," he wrenched himself loose, and went into the large sick ward. "i found the young lady," so dr. poutsma declares further, "bathed in her blood. four bullets had frightfully mutilated her." the shooting ceased, and the doctor bandaged miss rautenbach. then some officers entered, and then came the sickening: "i am awfully sorry." when dr. poutsma afterwards spoke to colonel rimington about this occurrence, he expressed his regret that miss rautenbach had been wounded, but added that he would not have been sorry in the least had dr. poutsma been shot, as one of his own doctors had shortly before been killed by the boers at tafel kop.[ ] further, he said that the red cross flag had not been noticed, and that he had never heard anything about a hospital there. he also wished dr. poutsma to admit that all that had happened was "an accident," which, as may be supposed, was refused. not even sacred edifices were spared. at reitz the troops broke up the floor of the dutch reformed church to make fires with. the churches at frankfort, ventersburg, and lindley were burnt down. [footnote : this happened during a fight.] so things went on. about our alleged misdeeds we saw reports in almost every newspaper that we picked up; but we had no opportunity to make known to the world what the english were doing to us. the english wanted to make an end to the war. they tried all means to attain this object speedily; also proclamations! but proclamations, as they had discovered, had had but little effect on the boers. especially had this been the case with regard to the one which had offered the boers a chance of laying down their arms up to the th of september. what other plan could they now devise to end the struggle which, notwithstanding all this devastation, still continued, and appeared likely to continue indefinitely? surely not another proclamation? no, but a letter! lord kitchener wrote a letter, an extract from which was, in the beginning of january , left lying about for the information of the boers on the farm where the english camps had halted. lord kitchener advised the boers, in this letter, to take the matter into their own hands, because, as he asserted, president steyn and general de wet were resolved to ruin them utterly. the boers should therefore act for themselves and lay down their arms, and he promised them that if they--not one by one, but in small numbers,--a corporal with ten men, a field-cornet with twenty-five, and a commandant with fifty men--surrendered, they would then not be banished. they would, moreover, not lose their remaining cattle, and would, moreover, after the war, receive aid from the british government to help them up again.[ ] how shameful it was that, ever since nauwpoort, the british government had been doing its utmost to induce the burghers to commit treason. but _all is fair in love and war_ is their own motto. [footnote : the extract was as follows:-- [translation.] let the boers know that de wet's assertions _re_ peace and arbitration are utter falsehoods, and that it is my opinion that de wet and steyn, having nothing to lose, wish to ruin the boers utterly. if they (the boers) desire to have peace, we are ready; and the only means i can see to bring this about is for the burghers to take this matter into their own hands, and to elect about two or three representatives to meet me on this subject, when i feel assured we could so arrange it that they should not lose the rest of their property and cattle. we shall be glad, when the war is over, to help them as far as possible with their farming operations. it is my wish to see the burghers with their wives and children back at their farms. their losses are the fault of their leaders, who are responsible for urging them on to continue a struggle which they know to be useless. if they follow these men, further destruction of their property is unavoidable; if they take the matter into their own hands, i feel certain that we can arrange matters; and we have the best wish to help the boers, who have constantly been misled. i do not wish individuals to surrender, as i prefer that those who are dissatisfied shall remain out with their commandos, and should use their influence to bring about a complete and not a partial peace, so that all may return to their farms.... but if boers surrender, they will not be sent away, and they will retain their property and cattle. a corporal must bring in ten armed men, a field-cornet twenty-five, and a commandant fifty men, to entitle them or admit them to such considerations.] this "paper bomb," however, did very little execution. as little notice was taken of it as of the recent proclamation. our people stood firm. that our people as a people remained steadfast became more and more evident to me. however much our numbers in south africa may have become diminished through the deportation of great numbers, and through the still greater numbers who had lost courage and had surrendered, our people as a people still always continued to exist. this the english were anxious to deny. they were fond of asserting that it was only a small fraction of the people that still resisted. this was not the case. it is true that it was only a minority that were still able to continue the struggle; but the heart of the nation, as a whole, was still always faithful. the majority of our prisoners-of-war had remained loyal to the cause. the majority even of those who in their dejection laid down their arms had no desire to remain under british rule. on an earlier page i have indicated what the feeling was on the island of ceylon, and here i wish to add something which proved to me that in the bermudas the feeling against england was still stronger, if possible, than in ceylon. shortly after i had got possession of the extract of lord kitchener's letter just referred to i read the following description of the prisoners at bermuda: "many of them (the prisoners) are irreconcilable, and show their bitterness and hostility in every way. for instance, they have refused to accept for their dead the military honours which are usually accorded the british soldier. the boer chaplain, the rev. j. r. albertyn of wellington in the cape colony, requested, on behalf of the men, that the coffin of a deceased burgher should not be covered with the union jack, and that the three volleys usually fired over the soldier's grave should be discontinued."[ ] [footnote : reuter's correspondent at hamilton, bermudas, writing on the th september .] when i read this my heart leaped for joy. our people were still one and undivided, i thought. if there were hundreds of our flesh and blood siding with the british, then there were thousands who did not. even those on whom the depressing influence of imprisonment must have had a baneful effect remained irreconcilable, and showed it in every way. what also struck me, when reading the newspapers, was how england damaged her own cause; because, in her excessively overbearing attitude, she did not understand the art of being conciliatory. four colonists, rebels--so one newspaper related--were brought to the market-place at cradock. shortly after their arrival there the commanding officer rode up, ushered in with the music of _rule britannia_. thereupon the accusations and the sentences against these four men were read. it appeared that all of them had been sentenced to death, but that the sentences of two of them had been commuted to imprisonment for life. then a _royal salute_ was fired, and the english national anthem played by the band. what an exhibition, i thought, of england's pride! one would have thought that it was indeed _rule britannia_ throughout south africa. but so far it had not yet got, and the action of england there--the exhibition of the sentenced men in the market-place, the playing of the national anthem, the firing of a _royal salute_--all that could have no other effect than to cause race hatred to strike roots still deeper, not only in the republics, but throughout the whole of south africa, and to drive every irreconcilable man anew to set his face like a flint against all that is english. ten days after rimington's troops had committed those atrocities in the hospitals, they and several other columns came to the neighbourhood of reitz, and were even more than usually active. they captured large numbers of cattle, and continued devastating the farms. their object was, however, chiefly to capture president steyn and general de wet, and also to regain possession of the guns taken by us at groen kop, which, since the th of december, had been conveyed about from one place to another between liebenberg's vlei and wilge river. unfortunately they succeeded in this. the guns were captured at roode kraal, liebenberg's vlei, on the th of february. at the same time the english drove general de wet and a considerable number of burghers through the line of blockhouses between kroonstad and lindley. the general passed through without firing a shot, but was not so fortunate when, shortly after, he returned. he then lost several burghers, dead and wounded. after that we had rest in the neighbourhood of reitz until the st of february; but of this i will give an account in a following chapter. saturday, the th of february , was a sad day for me. marthinus snyman, who had been to witzieshoek, heard there that my son had died at ladysmith. on the following monday i received a letter from my friend the rev. j. j. ross, who informed me that he had, about the th of january, received a letter from the rev. dieterlin containing among other things the following words: "i saw in the papers that young charles kestell, aged , died in ladysmith; is he not the son of our friend of harrismith?" a sword passed through my heart.--but this is not the place in which i must record personal experiences of this kind. chapter xxvii the holocaust of women during the short period of rest in the neighbourhood of reitz, president steyn and judge hertzog were engaged, together with the other members of the executive council, messrs. brebner and olivier, in writing letters to the sovereigns of europe and to the president of the united states of america. these letters were intended to explain our position, and to ask whether the powers would not exert their influence in the interests of the boers, especially regarding matters concerning the rules of civilised warfare and the fundamental principles of international law, which were both being shamefully outraged by the english in this war. it was intended that a messenger should be sent to europe through german west africa with the letters, and that he should himself, when abroad, further explain matters. at the same time judge hertzog busied himself in collecting affidavits from women and others, who had suffered under the barbarity of the british soldier, and the kaffirs in their service. i was allowed to read these declarations, and must admit that i have never perused anything more heartrending. let me here note a few facts. one woman declared that an english colonel had pulled down her house over her head at haco, in ladybrand district, on st january . on the th of the same month a patrol of the same officer came and took her prisoner. they made her and her children walk in front of the patrol for a distance of three miles, and that when she was so far advanced in pregnancy that she gave birth to a daughter ten days later. the wife of commandant j. j. koen, of the ladybrand commando, was taken from her house at blanco, in the district of ladybrand, against her will, by a patrol of major general knox, on th january . the order was first given that she should go to the camp on foot with her children, of whom one was a baby of a month old. fortunately, however, there was a cart which the english had looted that morning, and she was allowed to go in that. the night was cold and stormy, but, notwithstanding that, she had to pass it, with her children and two other women who had likewise been captured, under some trees in the open air, with very little bedding. on the following day she was brought up and cross-examined like a criminal, and this was repeated shortly after before a colonel. this officer told her that her husband had captured eighteen of his kaffirs the day before, and said that if her husband had those kaffirs shot, he, the colonel, would give the kaffirs under his command liberty to do with her as they chose. the number of women and children had in the meanwhile increased to eighteen, and all were in the open air, without protection against wind and weather. in vain mrs. koen begged for a tent. a colonial, however, took pity on her, and spread a buck sail over the waggon under which the women and children had sought shelter from the rain. this kindly deed of the colonial displeased the colonel, and he severely took him to task about it. from monday morning to wednesday evening the women got nothing to eat, and again it was a colonial who intervened. this man gave them some raw meat, biscuits, and a little coffee and sugar. but they had themselves to provide for fuel, and that on a bare hill where there was none to be found. from mequatling's nek the women and children were conveyed to the farm of the late general ferreira, on a trolley waggon loaded with seed-oats. it rained all the while, and they were drenched to the skin. they passed the next night under a buck sail with scanty covering. after spending nine days like this, mrs. koen was given a broken-down cart and two lean horses to return with to her house. she found it looted. the colonel had made the threat not to mrs. koen only. when he uttered the disgraceful words to that lady, he had already written a letter to her husband from mequatling's nek, dated st january , in which these words appear:-- "i request from you proof that these boys [kaffirs captured by commandant koen, and afterwards sent by him to basutoland] are safe. should i find, on the contrary, that you have murdered them, or should you murder others, besides other penalties, which you will assuredly not escape, i warn you that it will be beyond my power to control my kaffirs in their action towards your women. i hope, however, that your assurance, accompanied by proof, that my kaffirs are safe, will enable me to assuage my kaffirs, and to continue to you that protection which i have hitherto been able to grant them." now, i ask, suppose that commandant koen had shot the colonel's kaffirs, could such a deed justify a british officer to set loose savages upon defenceless women? another woman declared that on the th of september , a soldier, a hottentot, and two kaffirs visited her farm, jolly kop, in the district of bethlehem. the soldier remained some distance off, but the others came to her, threatened to shoot her, and forcibly removed her rings from her fingers. many acts of unnecessary and reckless violence took place in relation to women in very weak condition. if the columns trekking about wanted to burn a house or take a woman away from her house, they seldom took into consideration whether a woman was ill or in a weak condition. there were officers and men who had neither heart nor eye for the weakness which is generally a guarantee and protection against violence. here is an instance. a woman was taken from the farm omdraai, district bethlehem, towards the end of march , when she had been delivered of a child but one day. another, on the farm tijger, district heilbron, had a child of one day old. notwithstanding this, on th january colonel rimington had her house burned over her head, and she was forced, ill and weak as she was, to totter out of the house so as not to be consumed by the flames. the same thing had happened on the st of november to a woman at vogelstruisfontein, district heilbron. her child was but two days old, and she too had to save herself from the burning house. too often in this war it happened that the courtesy to women which chivalry dictates was lacking on the part of the british. not only were our women treated with disrespect and contempt, but this contempt was as often accompanied by a large measure of cruelty. so, for example, it very often happened that the english fired on the houses with cannon and rifles, under the pretext that the boers had concealed themselves in them. in many cases it turned out afterwards that these houses were occupied by women and children only, and that some of these had been wounded by the firing which had taken place. and then, when the women were taken away, the enemy placed them on open waggons, where they had no protection from sun, wind, or rain. there was one woman who was conveyed from her house on a gun-carriage. this took place in the middle of may , on the farm moolman's spruit, district ficksburg. from other women the soldiers took all their clothing, and searched them for money they had hidden on their persons. and when the women were driven out before the soldiers, or when they were allowed to return to their homes from a camp, they not only carried their babes, but also bundles of clothing--and these were often women who had never before carried any burden. our africander women carrying bundles like tramps! on what _viæ dolorosæ_ did they have to go! racial hatred? who is to blame for it if it exists? who can blame the africander if he cannot forget what was done to his mother, to his wife, to his sister? in the middle of july a burgher on the top of venter's kroon saw an english patrol set fire to a waggon along the vaal river. when the english had ridden off he went to the burning waggon and there found the sister of mr. h. miny of vredefort burned to death. she was sixty years old, and had never in all her life been able to walk. the burgher found her about twenty yards from the waggon, with her hands before her eyes, and it would appear that she had crawled so far after the waggon had been set on fire. it may be that the english had not seen her. let us hope that this was the case. much was said in the declarations about things i have spoken of in former chapters, in regard to the rough treatment the women were subjected to when the flying columns burnt their houses and destroyed their dwellings. much was said, too, of the pillaging which took place on such occasions; of the breaking or looting of plates, dishes, pots and pans; the plundering of everything in chests or wardrobes, the carrying off of all movable food stuffs, and the manner in which such provisions as could not be taken away--flour, beans, peas, and the like--were strewn on the ground. they complained bitterly that the soldiers left them nothing to eat, and that thus, so to speak, the very bread was taken from the mouths of the children. how our women and children suffered! and what shall i say of deeds more horrible than the worst that i have related here?--deeds which, out of respect to our wives and our mothers, i cannot name, but of which i, alas! just as in the cases i have mentioned, can give the date and the place? would that i did not need even to allude to them! but i must! i must let the curtain rise but swiftly to exhibit other scenes--but as in passing--for all may not be seen, and what is seen must only be partly seen. our women were assaulted and ill-treated, so that after the departure of the british flying columns they were sometimes confined to their beds for days, and in many cases bore the marks of blows and bruises for weeks. worse still! there were many attempts at violation, and there were cases in which violation actually took place, in a manner which it is impossible to describe here. _me miserum!_ that i must record this--that it is necessary to lead posterity to the altar upon which our women were offered! chapter xxviii a great drive the president was obliged to leave the neighbourhood of reitz about the th of february , because the english were again beginning to enter the district. after having had a short time of rest, and having spent it in composing the letters mentioned in the preceding chapter, he met general de wet at slabbert's farm, rondebosch. while he was still busy there with a mass of correspondence he also discussed various affairs of importance with the general, amongst which was the question of the route which the messenger who was to be sent to europe should take. while they were thus engaged we heard that the english were approaching from the direction of liebenberg's vlei, and on the evening of st february both the president and general de wet proceeded as far as the house of mr. taljaart. early on the following morning they were on the farm of mr. wessels, and intended finishing their correspondence there; and the secretaries of the president and of the general were hard at work when news was brought that the english from liebenberg's vlei had advanced to within a very short distance of us. we hastily saddled our horses and trekked through wilge river near the residence of commandant beukes, and halted late that afternoon not far from the farm of mr. christiaan de wet--not the general. that evening general de wet received a report from the commandant of vrede, hermanus botha, which stated that there were large forces of the english between botha's pass, on the drakensberg, and frankfort, and that these forces were moving towards harrismith in the form of a cordon. it was clear now that we were in a great kraal, as it was called, and that to escape from it we should have to make an attempt to pass round the wings of the cordon, or otherwise to break through somewhere where there was an opening. in the course of the evening commandant ross with his frankfort burghers also joined us, and everything was now under the direction of general de wet. at ten o'clock that night we commenced to trek, and off-saddled at three o'clock on the following morning, sunday, on the farm of ex-assistant field-cornet jan cronje, near cornelis river. soon tidings were brought that the english were advancing in great numbers, and we had to proceed immediately. at ten o'clock we were again in the saddle. but how greatly had our numbers increased during the night. not only were the men of commandant ross with us, but also a great number of persons who were not liable to commando duty, on account of old age or bodily weakness. these had left their farms, and were fleeing before the enemy. there were also children--boys from eight years upward. everywhere there were crowds of vehicles of every sort--buggies, carts, and spiders--besides which the veld was covered with enormous numbers of cattle. when we passed through cornelis river, close to the house of paul prinsloo, the number of cattle was so great that the veld seemed literally alive with them. they were driven along in separate herds, and it was a puzzle to me how the owners managed to keep them apart. but it was the numbers that astonished me, and not only me, who knew nothing of cattle, but the boers themselves. general de wet declared that he had never seen so many cattle together at one time. what a multitude! from the foremost to the hindmost there was a distance of about six miles, and it was covered with one vast mass of living creatures--men, horses, and cattle. in order to remain out of sight, general de wet made the great motley crowd trek up in the hollow on the left bank of cornelis river, and in the afternoon we reached brakfontein, where we off-saddled and outspanned. there commandant hermanus botha joined the chief-commandant and reported that the english had advanced to the banks of holspruit, and that they had halted in small camps, a thousand yards apart, from the drakensberg up to wilge river. it was also known to us that the force which had caused us to retreat through wilge river had formed a line on the other side of the river. it was undoubtedly the largest drive which the english had up to that moment made. the question was, how to escape. we could not get round the flanks, for these were so far to the east and west that there might just as well have been no flanks at all. and there was no time for delay, for the line would grow shorter every day, and the enemy would thus be enabled to bring their camps closer to one another. delay? general de wet was not the man to delay, and he did not now. now, as always, he perceived in a moment what was to be done. he must break through the cordon that very night. he decided that this should be done at kalk-kraus, near the house of old mr. samuel beukes. the sun had just set, and the full moon began every now and then to shoot a ray of light through the rifts of a dark mass of clouds which lay on the eastern horizon, when the vast multitude once more commenced to move. what a commotion there was! each owner toiled to keep his cattle together and shouted to his ox-herd. the herd again yelled and whistled to turn the cattle and to urge them onward; and above all this uproar could be heard the lowing of the cows and the bleating of the calves. the kaffirs raced to and fro, and you could see, gliding through the throng, here a cart and there a buggy, while continually you noticed horsemen feverishly pushing through in order to get to the front. it seemed, as someone remarked to me, that a pandemonium had suddenly been called into being. in half an hour the horsemen were all in front; behind them came the carts, one after the other, and then the cattle. these, now that they were being driven steadily forward, ceased to render the night horrible by their bellowing. general de wet ordered that the following order should be observed: a number of men were told to advance as a right wing and another as a left, while a small vanguard rode on ahead. in the centre was the general with the president. behind them came their staffs; then followed the great motley crowd--the people who were driving the spiders and carts and buggies--and in the rear the mighty host of cattle. we proceeded, continually halting to wait until the great rearguard could come up. the moon was not visible, as the sky was clouded, but it was light enough to see well. onward we went. before us we could see the vanguard, and on each side, near us at one moment and farther off the next, the flanks moved along. everything looked weird and uncanny. at last we reached the bank of holspruit. it was just midnight. we trekked through the spruit and approached the ridges to the east of mr. beukes's house. we knew that if we passed over those ridges unnoticed we would be through the kraal without mishap. but the english were lying in wait for us there. along the whole line they had built small forts between their camps, and they had done so here too. the foremost men begin to climb. suddenly we see two or three flashes above us on the ridge--a little to the right--and immediately we hear the report of rifles echoing through the valley. there on our left, too, we see sparks of fire. the whole commando suddenly comes to a standstill. the horses become restive. the burghers turn back. great is the fury of the general when he sees this, and with forcible language he orders the men to charge. the bullets whiz past us everywhere, and several burghers are hit. my pony is slightly wounded under me. general de wet and his officers succeed in making the burghers climb the hill to the left of the fort on our left hand, from which the english are firing on us, and we reach the top. we are hardly there when the ghastly dud-dud-dud-dud of a maxim-nordenfeldt is heard; the tiny shells fly shrieking over us, and burst amongst a number of burghers not far from where we are. hark! what is that? the cry of a little boy at the sound of the maxim-nordenfeldt. never in my life have i been touched deeper in my heart than by this child crying in the night. why is he present at such a scene? meanwhile, on another part of the ridge, commandant ross and the two brothers, commandant and assistant commandant botha, had engaged the enemy. they stormed and took several forts. they even gained possession of the maxim-nordenfeldt; but, as might be expected, they could not remove it. many english were killed and wounded there. we had now burst through one line of forts, and there was another through which we had to pass. we saw before us a line of small flashes from the rifles, and knew that we had to face them. the officers had the greatest trouble to get the men through the unceasing fire. every now and then a dash forward was made, but each time the men were baffled and returned. more than half an hour passed thus. at last a supreme effort was made, and we were through. about burst through in this manner. but many remained behind. there were some who went back after they had actually gained the ridge, and others did not venture to go farther than the foot of the hill. of the great drove of cattle not one had even reached the foot of the hill. i make especial mention of this, because the english declared in their account of the affair that general de wet drove great numbers of cattle against the forts and then burst through behind them. only later in the night did some herds get through in another place with about head; but the thousands of cattle, together with a considerable number of burghers on horseback and all the persons in the buggies, spiders, and carts, remained behind, and far the greater part fell into the hands of the english four days after. it is a pity that they had not had the courage to break through, for after the commandants ross and botha had taken the forts the way was open. not all, however, who drove in the carts remained behind, for the waggonette of the general and one cart in which a wounded man was conveying a comrade who was ill with fever accomplished the passage. just as they were out of danger the sick man died on the cart! we had a heavy loss to deplore-- killed and about wounded. those who had broken through hurried on, and reached the farm bavaria, at bothaberg, just after sunrise. here we buried in one grave a burgher of the president's staff named piet van der merwe, and a boy of only thirteen years of age named olivier. when i was walking towards the grave i encountered a little boy who had gone through the terrible night along with us. he wore a suit made of sheepskin, and there were traces of fatigue on his drawn face, while the light which should have sparkled from his eyes was dimmed. was this, i asked myself, the child whose cry i had heard in the night, when the shells of the maxim-nordenfeldt flew over us? "what is your name?" i asked him. he told me his name. "how old are you?" "oom, i am eight, and going on for nine." such things happened in this war of ours, and england's boys of eight and nine--those who were not left to their fate, with cold, blue, bare feet, in the snow and ice on the streets of her great cities--did their mothers snugly tuck them in their warm beds? but the mothers of our children knew to what danger their boys were exposed, of being torn from their arms and mercilessly carried off; and rather than see this happen, they sent them away from their warm beds, to hear at midnight sounds and see sights that the ears and eyes of strong men could hardly bear. that day the english remained where they were, but on the following they proceeded and formed the great cordon on the bank of cornelis river. commandant hermanus botha then found an opportunity to bury our dead on the battlefield. there had been a drive at the same time on the west of wilge river, from scheurklip to britsberg, and from there in a segment east of kroonstad to lindley. this operation was the largest drive the english had hitherto made. a few days after he had broken through, general de wet found an opportunity of examining the forts of the enemy. he found that they had been such a protection to them, and so formidable to us, that he wondered that more of our men had not been killed. while he was viewing the forts burghers rode past from time to time, and informed him that during the preceding night ( th february) burghers had dashed through the cordon at sterkfontein near the sources of cornelis river. we also heard that general wessels had escaped near steil drift without firing a shot, and somewhat later news came that general hattingh of kroonstad had forced a passage, with all his men and a considerable number of cattle, to the west of lindley. these tidings encouraged us, but what a blow it was when soon after we heard that commandant meyer, who had command of a portion of the harrismith burghers, had surrendered on the th not far from tandjesberg. we heard the particulars from an eye-witness, patrick van coller. he had escaped, and had seen the sad incident from a hill on which he had hidden himself. he said that he saw a man with a white flag ride from the commando to the english. thereupon these rode to the burghers. the rifles were first demanded, then the saddles. the latter were burnt in seven heaps. our men were then marched to harrismith as prisoners-of-war. we afterwards heard that there had been five or six burghers who would not surrender and who had raced away. they had succeeded in escaping, notwithstanding that they had been pursued by the enemy. from time to time news reached us of remarkable escapes. i will only mention the following case. old mr. hendrik barnard, who was between seventy and eighty years old, was one of the great number of fugitives. he had fled with a cart until he was forced to abandon it on the near approach of the english. then he hid himself in the reeds on the banks of a spruit. there he lay for two days. luckily he had with him a faithful kaffir lad who cared for him as a child. if the old man looked out to see whether the english were near, the kaffir boy would warn him, saying, "look out, _oû bâas_! the khakis will see you." mr. barnard had a little food with him, but not enough. this was replenished after dark by the kaffir boy, who fetched from a neighbouring farm what they needed. thus two days passed, and then, with all manner of pain in all his limbs, occasioned through the cramped position he had been forced to take, the old man could leave his hiding-place. england spared neither women nor children nor old men tottering on the brink of the grave! chapter xxix to the transvaal our horses needed rest after all the hard trekking. luckily we were able to grant them this on the farm rondebosch, which we reached about a week after we had effected the passage at kalk-krans. there the horses not only got some rest but also forage. this rest, however, did not last long. after two days we heard that the english were again approaching, and, as we had expected, were returning from harrismith. we had now to give way before the enemy once more. the question was, whither? and as it was clear to the president that his presence in the districts of bethlehem and vrede was largely the cause of the continual reappearance of english columns in those parts, the question arose, whether it would not be better, in order to give these districts, which had latterly been terribly harassed, as well as himself some rest, to leave them and betake himself beyond the railway line to those portions of the free state which were then enjoying comparative repose. general de wet, who was still with the president, approved of the idea, and the plan was carried out. we saddled our horses with the intention of going to the district of fauresmith, but it turned out that we landed in the transvaal. at sunset on the th of march we left rondebosch. it was a dark night, and the darkness was the cause of some loss to me, for we had hardly commenced to trek when the pack in which my clothes and blankets were, tumbled off. i was riding in front, and did not know that my little kaffir boy was struggling with the pack; but i soon heard that everything was lost--my kaffir boy too; for in running after a led horse that had broken loose while he was busy with the pack, he got lost himself, and although we shouted and searched for him we could not find him. the commando had to proceed, and i had to proceed with it, possessing nothing but what was in my wallets and the clothes i was wearing. i thought it remarkable that while everything had been saved in the dash through kalk-krans, here, where there was no immediate danger, everything should be lost. but i did not feel unhappy. on the contrary, it was with a feeling of relief that i remembered i should not have the trouble of having to look after worldly possessions, nor the care of the little kaffir, during the difficult journey that lay before us. he was safer at his kraal, which was not far from the spot where the mishap had occurred, and the "secret of jesus," as matthew arnold calls it, became clearer to me than ever before: that to gain life one must lose it. from that evening up to the end of the war i rode on my pony with a few blankets that i got the next day fastened on a led horse. i was without cares. the english had approached to within nine miles of us on the following day, and we saw that we should have to bestir ourselves. while hurrying on our way to the frankfort-heilbron line of blockhouses we halted for half an hour, while general de wet, who was about to part from the president, discussed the route that should be taken. he said that it would be best to cross the railway line somewhere between wolvehoek and vaal river, "and then," he said to commandant van niekerk, "you must"-- "but why should you not go with us?" the president asked. general de wet replied that if he did this it would look as if he were fleeing from the enemy. judge hertzog then showed that the presence of the general was urgently required in the western district, and other members of the executive council remarked that if he left the north-eastern portions of the state for a while the people there would get some rest, and that, so far from taking it amiss if he went away, they would be glad if he should absent himself for some time. and now a strange thing happened. this inflexible man, who never lost his presence of mind and always knew immediately what course of action to pursue, said, "well, then, i leave the matter in your hands. you must decide." of course everyone took the responsibility upon himself, and general de wet remained with us. how secure we all felt! in the afternoon we met with the burghers of commandant van der merwe, who had been driven from parys and vredefort over the railway line some months before, and who had remained in the heilbron district since then. the commandant and his men wanted to get back, and were overjoyed when general de wet ordered them to accompany him. when it became dark we proceeded on our way in order to break through the heilbron-frankfort line of blockhouses to the east of the town of heilbron. all went well. in complete silence--no officer has need to enjoin silence when men are marching to blockhouses or the railway--we approached the line. we expected every moment to hear shots; but nothing happened. the foremost men had halted. a burgher cut the wires. just as one of the wires was cut the reports of two shots fell on the silence of the night in quick succession. they were fired from rifles attached to the wire. we waited a moment. but all was still. no other shot rang out, and we passed through swiftly. after riding a few hours farther over an apparently endless plain, well named langverdriet (long-sorrow), we off-saddled shortly before sunrise on a farm in a hollow, with the blockhouses seven miles behind us. the morning of the th of march had now dawned. after breakfasting we proceeded until twelve o'clock, and then rested till the sunset. we then mounted our horses once more, and at eleven o'clock we were a few thousand yards from the railway at a point somewhere between wolvehoek (station) and vaal river. general de wet did not wish to cross just then, as he was of opinion that the guards on the line would be too wakeful, and he ordered that we should halt there till one o'clock. we thereupon tied our horses to one another and lay down on the ground. i fell asleep immediately. shortly before one o'clock i was awakened by a sound which i had not heard for months--that of a passing train. what memories mounted in my mind, and how the hot blood surged in my veins at the thought that our railway was in the hands of the enemy! the order was given to mount, and we rode on to about four hundred yards from the line. halt! a party of commandant van der merwe's men went on foot to cut the wires. this was done. the whole commando now rushed to the line. it must have been the tramp of our horses that woke the sentries, for when we had already reached the line a shot rang out. we passed through a ditch and then up a very slight embankment; and i saw again, as i had already seen several times before, the two rails glide under me to the rear. a feeling of relief took possession of me. the half of the commando had crossed when shots from three rifles were heard from a railway cottage in the direction of wolvehoek, and the foremost men halted till all should have crossed. but soon we heard the rattle of a maxim, and everyone then hurried on. we could still occasionally hear the maxim; but at last it ceased, or else we were too far off to hear its vicious cackling. we off-saddled at sunrise, six miles from the line. in the course of the day we reached the farm of salamon senekal, two and a half hours from the railway and one hour from the town of parys, grateful to god for his protection. there was another matter for which we had cause to be grateful: the delicious fruit of the farm. salamon senekal had ridden on ahead, and when the president and the general arrived there, he had spread, on a plate of corrugated iron, under the great blue gum-trees, a splendid collection of ripe figs, apples, pears, and great peaches. what a feast had been prepared for the president! there were several other kinds of fruits in the garden besides these: quinces, prickly pears, pomegranates in such quantities that when we, about men, left the farm, one could not have noticed that a commando had been there. and we had not spared the trees. whether any had overeaten themselves i leave to the reader to determine. at the town of parys, where we arrived on the following day, we found three families, aged men and women and children. one old man had died shortly before. this would have placed the aged survivors in a difficult position if there had not been a young girl, miss greef, living in the family in which the death had taken place. while one of the two surviving old men made a coffin, the girl dug a grave in the garden and took upon herself the greater part of the labour of interring the body. it is a pleasing duty to me, after having had to write so much to the discredit of the english, to be able to relate that the families here in parys had no complaints to bring in against officers and men who had been quartered here for some time. on the contrary, they declared that the english had treated them with the greatest consideration, and had also provided for all their wants. it was the intention of general de wet to remain at parys, and on the following sunday, march the th, to attend a service in the church. but this was not to be, for the english had appeared behind us. we had therefore to leave parys on saturday afternoon. in the evening we reached the village of vredefort, and i saw in the dusk the walls of the burnt parsonage. i thought of the pleasure i had enjoyed when, seventeen months before, i stayed there for a night. if anybody had said then that the war would last another seventeen months, who would have believed him? we found the blockhouses from kopjes siding to potchefstroom and those from kroonstad to potchefstroom broken up. we rode forward without adventure to a place nine miles from valsch river, and arrived at the farm of broekman's on thursday, th march. we had trekked from the district of heilbron to where we now were in eight days, and during all that time we had been in a completely devastated region. we had met no one on the farms. every house that we had passed was burnt or destroyed. we had not seen a single horse, ox, or sheep. the veld was in splendid condition--the grass waved in the breeze, but we had seen no cattle to graze on it. we had ridden through a wilderness, excepting that the ruins on the farms showed that the country had once been inhabited. at broekman's[ ] general de wet learned that there were blockhouses on the left bank of the valsch river, and at the same time word was brought by the scouts that all the fords of the vaal were occupied by the english. he thereupon decided to cross through valsch river and the blockhouse line to the opposite side. [footnote : we found a report here, fixed on a board, of an address delivered by lord kitchener at belfast on the th and th of december , with this heading: _burghers, read this!_ the contents were for the most part the same as those of the extract of the letter already given. lord kitchener declared that the behaviour of the boers in the veld seemed very foolish to him. it was not war that was now being carried on, for the operations rather resembled police operations, seeing that the troops had to capture the burghers. he said that the english captured between four and five hundred burghers every week. the boers in the veld seemed to him like sheep without a shepherd. he feared that the present leaders were animated by other motives than the welfare of their country at heart, and that, unless the boers acted for themselves, they would be led to complete ruin. the destruction of property which still continued was to be deplored, but it was the fault of the present leaders, who misled the people by assuring them that they would receive help from abroad. the burghers should judge for themselves, lord kitchener advised. they ought to convene meetings and vote, not by a show of hands, but by ballot, so that they might not be accused of so-called high treason--whether they would continue the war or not. if the majority were in favour of continuing the war, let them do so; but he warned them that in that case the responsibility would rest on the burghers themselves. if, however, the majority were in favour of peace, the burghers should choose other leaders in the place of those who had held them in the veld by means of lies and threats. lord kitchener believed that if the boers in the field chose a committee, and sent this committee to him, he would receive them; and he felt convinced that, before they left, they would have agreed on a peace acceptable to both parties. voluntary surrenders would be accepted, if the men came in in parties, and their cattle and property would be guaranteed. they would, however, do better work by remaining on the veld and using their influence with the leaders to bring this about. officers surrendering with their men would not be banished. lord kitchener further indulged in the spiteful remark that president steyn and general de wet (he called them "steyn" and "de wet") profited financially by the continuance of the war.] in the evening he crossed the river, while commandant van der merwe and commandant van niekerk of kroonstad remained behind to operate in their own districts. we found the river almost too full to cross, but nothing particular happened; and at the blockhouse line all went well, notwithstanding a heavy fire which was opened on us. only a few horses were left behind. on the following morning we heard that general de la rey had come in contact with the enemy, and that he had captured a great many waggons and mules. i must now state how it happened that we went to the transvaal instead of to the western portions of the free state as we had intended. the question had often been considered of late whether we would go to the western portion of our state or through the vaal river. this was decided at rietyat by the consideration of various circumstances. president steyn had been suffering since th february from an affection of the eyes which seemed to be getting more and more serious. would it not be best to go through the vaal river in order to consult dr. von rennenkamff, who had joined the commandos of general de la rey? if this were done, the opportunity would be offered also of consulting general de la rey before sending the messenger to europe. this decided the matter, and we resolved at once to cross into the transvaal. this, however, could not be done by means of the fords, for they were, as i have said before, guarded by the english. we had therefore to avail ourselves of a fearfully bad bridle-path, which led through the vaal river a mile and a half above the british guard at commando drift. on monday, march the th, we reached bosmansrust, and from there the president, general de wet, and the other members of the executive council proceeded to zendelingsfontein, where they were received with great marks of honour. the burghers of general de la rey were delighted to have the free state leaders in their midst, and presented president steyn with three addresses. there i heard the particulars concerning general de la rey's operations. there had been two battles. the first, at yzerspruit, had taken place on th february, when armstrong cannon, maxim-nordenfeldt, loaded waggons with their teams, scotch carts, carts, water carts, oxen, horses, and mules had been taken. there had been prisoners-of-war, of whom were officers. about english had been killed and wounded, and our loss killed and wounded. the second battle had been fought on the th of march. lieutenant-general lord methuen had hastened to regain possession of the guns. his force, numbering men, had been attacked at klip drift, harts river, and had fallen into the hands of general de la rey. there had been captured armstrong guns, waggons with their teams, carts, and horses. besides this there had been killed and wounded and prisoners-of-war. amongst these was lord methuen who was wounded in the leg. he and general de la rey had been opposed to one another since magersfontein, and had fought with varying fortune. here de la rey triumphed. our loss had been killed and wounded. the prisoners were released after each of the battles. general de la rey, after showing lord methuen every attention, allowed him to be taken to klerksdorp. this act of general de la rey displeased the burghers. they considered that as the enemy treated our captured generals in a different manner--the name of general scheepers in the cape colony was mentioned in this connection--the least that general de la rey should have done was to keep lord methuen prisoner. general de la rey thereupon laid the matter before the council of war, and pointed out that, although it would have been his duty to keep an officer who had nothing the matter with him, humanity demanded that every possible help should be given to a wounded man. the other officers agreed, and lord methuen, who had been stopped on his way to klerksdorp when the burghers had demurred, was set at liberty. to my great joy i met the rev. j. strasheim here, and went with him to visit and address the commandos of general kemp, commandants de beer and potgieter, and general liebenberg. i was with the commandos of general liebenberg on sunday night, rd march, when, at eleven o'clock, the loud tramp of horses was heard on the road coming from klerksdorp. we immediately saddled our horses and inspanned. it appeared on the following morning that the english had come from klerksdorp in four divisions, and had been joined by other forces that had advanced from commando drift (vaal river) at the one end and from vaalbank on the other. when morning dawned, the english had accomplished the remarkable feat of forming an arc in one night from makwassie to vaalbank, a distance of seventy-two miles, and general liebenberg saw that he was in a tremendous kraal, as we called it. he was driven from doornpoort to leeuwfontein, and from there to limoenfontein. he endeavoured continually to break through towards vaalbank and in the direction of schoonspruit, but fresh english troops continually confronted his weary burghers. near limoenfontein the english fired on us with shrapnel, and we hurried on to buysfontein. two guns and one maxim-nordenfeldt had to be abandoned. at buysfontein general liebenberg was forced to abandon his laager also, and the commandos escaped by racing helter-skelter over the great stones down the valley of buysfontein, while the enemy harassed them with cannon and rifle fire. in the evening, after having had our horses under saddle for twenty hours, we rested until half-past eleven. we were apprehensive of the enemy from the makwassie end of the line; but the forces there had advanced on both sides of us, and general liebenberg succeeded in passing in the night between two camps without knowing it at the time, and unnoticed also by the english. on the following day we reached zendelingsfontein. thus i had been in a kraal (drive) once more. on wednesday, th march, we came to doornkuil, and learnt that other commandos had had very narrow escapes, and that unfortunately general de la rey's staff had been captured. i was glad, however, to learn that president steyn and his staff were safe. part iii _resignation_ chapter i "will this lead to peace?" "will this lead to peace?" the burghers asked one another, when, on th march, the news spread through the commandos that there were messengers from acting president schalk burger seeking president steyn. the messengers, it was said, had a safe-conduct from lord kitchener, and were provided with horses and rations by the english in order to be able to travel rapidly. i got all the particulars when i returned to the laager of the president on the following morning (good friday). our government had received an invitation from the government of the south african republic to meet them in order to discuss the question of whether a proposal of peace could not be made to england. this invitation of the transvaal government was the result of lord kitchener's having sent, on behalf of his government, to president burger on the th of march a copy of the correspondence of th to th january between holland and england. baron gerické had asked the british government whether the netherlands government could not act as intermediary between england and the boers in the field. the netherlands government considered themselves justified in making this request, as exceptional circumstances prevented the boers in the field from treating directly with the british government through their representatives in europe. they therefore declared themselves willing, if england consented, to act as a third party, and to ask the boer deputation if they were willing to go to south africa with a safe-conduct from england to discuss matters with the boers, and then return to europe with full powers to make a treaty of peace, which would be binding in europe as well as in africa. lord lansdowne had replied that, although the british government appreciated the philanthropic motives of holland, they adhered to their decision not to accept foreign intervention. it was open, however, to the boer deputation to lay a request for a safe-conduct before the british government, but that the government could not decide on the matter before knowing what the nature of such request was and the grounds on which it was made. lord lansdowne had said that it was not clear to the british government whether the deputation had still any influence with the boer representatives in south africa; and that the british government was of opinion that all powers of government, including that of negotiation, were vested in president steyn for the boers in the orange free state, and acting president burger for those in the south african republic. he considered that the most speedy and satisfactory manner in which a settlement could be arrived at would be by direct negotiation between the boer leaders in south africa and the commander-in-chief of the british forces, who had already been instructed to forward immediately any offers he might receive to the british government. it had been said finally that the british government had decided that if the boers in south africa wished to negotiate, negotiations had to be conducted in south africa and not in europe; for at least three months would elapse if the deputation went to south africa, and thereby hostilities would be protracted, and much further suffering would be caused. on receipt of the copy of this correspondence, acting president burger had asked lord kitchener for a safe-conduct for himself and the members of his government in order to meet president steyn and the executive council of the orange free state, and to discuss a proposal of peace with them. lord kitchener had immediately granted him the safe-conduct, and the transvaal government had proceeded by rail to kroonstad, as they considered that town, according to information received from lord kitchener as to where president steyn was presumed to be, the spot from which they could most easily come into touch with the free state government. messages were sent from kroonstad to search for president steyn. they found him at roodewal, district lichtenburg, and handed him the letter of acting president burger. the letter contained a request for a meeting, for the purpose above mentioned. president steyn replied that he considered klerksdorp, potchefstroom, or a spot in the neighbourhood of these towns, as the best adapted for holding the conference. while waiting for an answer to this letter, a fight took place between the commandos of general de la rey and the english at brakspruit, not far from roodewal. here the english experienced once more what it meant to be bombarded. no advantage was gained on either side, but the english forces were arrested in their progress and retired to van tender's farm. a letter from lord kitchener reached president steyn at weltevrede on april the th, containing acting president burger's answer, and a safe-conduct from the english commander-in-chief for the government of the orange free state to klerksdorp and back. on the th our executive council started, accompanied by general de la rey, who had been summoned by his government, as one of the members, to take part in the negotiations, and we arrived at klerksdorp at twelve o'clock on the th. president steyn was received by major e. h. m. leggett, and quartered in the old town. we heard that the transvaal government were already in klerksdorp, and that they had quarters in the new town. the two governments were thus separated, excepting during the time they conferred together. this was the case afterwards, at pretoria also. we had hardly entered the house when the sounds of a bagpipe fell on our ears, and soon a detachment of about twenty highlanders, under the command of lieutenant burn, marched up to the house. "this is a guard-of-honour for the president," said major leggett, who had been charged to look after the free state government. "it was," he said, "most annoying to be snapshotted and stared at by a gaping crowd." the president appreciated, of course, the honour, but it was clear to us that the "guard-of-honour" was to keep an eye not only on intruders from outside, but also upon us, so that no one from within should find his way out. indeed, it soon appeared that we were not allowed to go farther than the boundaries of the plot of ground on which the house stood, and if one wished to go anywhere farther one was always accompanied by one of the military. but we did not take this amiss. it was war, and we were inside the english lines. no one could complain of the treatment of the english. the president was made as comfortable as possible, and all respect due to his position was shown him. we were allowed to buy clothes, and when we met the transvaalers that afternoon we heard that some of them had written letters to their wives, and had received answers. president steyn, in view of his serious indisposition, also availed himself of the opportunity afforded him, and wrote to mrs. steyn from pretoria, acquainting her with the state of his health. at three o'clock on the afternoon of our arrival the two governments assembled in a large tent erected between the old and new towns. there were present--from the south-african republic: the acting president, s. w. burger, commandant-general louis botha, state-secretary f. w. reitz, general de la rey, and ex-generals l. g. meyer and g. c. krogh, also the state-attorney, mr. l. jacobsz. from the orange free state: the state president, m. t. steyn, general de wet, acting state-secretary w. j. c. brebner, judge j. b. m. hertzog, and general c. h. olivier. for the transvaal mr. d. van velden acted as secretary of the executive council, and the rev. j. d. kestell[ ] as acting-secretary for the free state executive council. [footnote : i accepted the post of acting-secretary not for the position, but in order to get material for my book.] there were also present the advocates j. ferreira (state-attorney for the western district of the south african republic) and n. de wet (secretary of commandant-general l. botha). mr. b. j. du plessis was also present as private secretary to president steyn. the acting president of the transvaal delivered a short address of welcome to the president and executive council of the orange free state, and asked the rev. j. d. kestell to open the proceedings with prayer. he thereupon explained the circumstances which had led up to the meeting of the two governments. he said that he and his government considered the forwarding by the british government of a copy of the correspondence between it and the government of holland as an invitation made by england to the two republics to discuss the question of peace. viewing the action of england in this light, he had requested a safe-conduct from lord kitchener to be enabled to meet the president and executive of the orange free state, in order to have a conference with them, and, if possible, to co-operate with them in drawing up a peace proposal to be laid before the british government. before, however, they proceeded to discuss the question, it was necessary, he thought, to hear particulars of the conditions under which the war was being carried on, and he thought that the general officers present should address the meeting. as it was decided not to hold minutes, i shall merely state that commandant-general louis botha, chief-commandant de wet, and assistant commandant general de la rey addressed the meeting, giving an account of the state of the country and of the numbers and condition of the commandos. several other members of the government spoke. the next day the following resolution was agreed to:-- "the governments of the south african republic and orange free state, having met in consequence of lord kitchener's having sent the correspondence exchanged between the government of his majesty the king of england and her majesty the queen of holland, concerning the desirability of giving the governments of these republics the opportunity of communicating with their authorised envoys in europe, in whom both governments have all along had the greatest confidence; "having marked the conciliatory spirit which appears therein on the part of his britannic majesty, as well as the desire expressed therein by lord lansdowne in the name of his government, to put an end to this struggle; "are of opinion that it is now a suitable moment to show their willingness to do all in their power to put an end to the war. "and therefore decide to lay certain propositions before lord kitchener, as the representative of his britannic majesty's government, which may serve as a basis for further negotiations to bring about the wished-for peace. "furthermore, it is the opinion of both governments, in order to hasten the attainment of the desired end, and to avoid as much misconception as possible, that his excellency lord kitchener be requested to meet these governments in person at a time and place fixed by him, in order that the governments may lay peace-proposals directly before him, which they are prepared to do, and thus to solve all difficulties which may exist by direct verbal communication with him, and thus make sure that this conference will bear the wished-for fruits." a letter signed by the two presidents enclosing this proposition was written during the meeting, and despatched to lord kitchener. the meeting then adjourned till the afternoon, when much was said about the proposals to be made to lord kitchener. finally, at the instance of general de la rey, seconded by mr. l. jacobsz, the drafting of a proposal was relegated to a commission. this commission handed in the following report, which was accepted by the meeting:-- "the commission, having taken into consideration the desire of this meeting to draw up a proposal (in connection with the letter sent yesterday by both presidents to his excellency lord kitchener), with a view to a conference with lord kitchener, suggests the following points:-- " . the making of an enduring treaty of friendship and peace, by which is understood-- (_a_) arrangement of customs union. (_b_) postal, telegraphic, and railway union. (_c_) fixing of the franchise. " . dismantling of all forts belonging to the state. " . arbitration in future disagreements between the contracting parties, the arbitrators to be chosen by both parties, in equal numbers from their subjects. with a final arbitrator to be chosen by the appointed arbitrators. " . equal rights in regard to education in both the english and dutch languages. " . mutual amnesty." messrs. krogh, l. jacobsz, judge hertzog, and commandant-general louis botha then addressed the meeting. shortly after general botha had concluded his speech, general wilson came to the tent and brought a message from lord kitchener saying that he was willing to meet the governments at pretoria. general wilson also stated that arrangements would be immediately made for the railway journey, and that the presidents and their executives could start for pretoria in the evening. chapter ii a conference with lord kitchener and lord milner at six o'clock in the morning on the th of april the governments arrived at pretoria in two separate trains. the transvaal government were quartered in the house of mr. c. rooth, adjoining that in which lord kitchener lived, while the members of the free state government were taken to the residence of mr. philippe in arcadia. nothing could surpass the friendliness of the english. their hospitality left nothing to be desired, and the considerateness of those who had the difficult task to perform was admirable. yet with all these signs of politeness, one could not help thinking of what that same nation had done to our wives and children. the english spread for our governments a table with a menu as good as their commissariat could supply, and at the same moment there were pining away on desolated farms the women and children whose houses they had burnt over their heads. one thing that impressed me very strongly was the strong desire which the english could not conceal that peace should be restored. they made no secret of it. this will become more plain in this chapter, when the telegrams exchanged between our governments and that of the british come to be read. but what sort of peace? it soon became clear from conversations that we had with major leggett and other officers, that it was a peace based upon british conditions. the english officers gave us to understand that it was taken for granted by them that we were now going to negotiate with a conqueror. the annexation of the two republics was regarded as an established, irrevocable fact. they constantly spoke of the orange river colony. then they lost no time in informing us shortly after our arrival that civil government had been partly restored in the transvaal, and that since the beginning of the month the high court at pretoria had been reopened. they also asked what our leading men would consider the best way in which the farms in the two states could be rebuilt and restocked. president steyn and general de wet answered very curtly, and it became plain to the english officers that it was better not to hold such conversations with the leaders of our people. with the exception of this, all went smoothly, and were it not that one could always under the garb of politeness perceive an enemy, who had destroyed our country, then certainly we might have looked back upon our stay at klerksdorp and pretoria with the pleasantest recollections. we had not long been in the house in which we were to stay before a message came from lord kitchener, that he desired to meet the governments. a hasty breakfast was eaten, and then the president and general de wet entered lord kitchener's carriage, and the other members of the executive the carts provided for that purpose, and were conveyed to the house of the commander-in-chief. conducted into a large hall, we found the transvaalers there already. lord kitchener stood on the other side of the hall, and came forward to meet president steyn. he shook hands with him, as also with the other members of the government. then he stood erect in the attitude of a soldier, and a little general conversation followed. after some moments lord kitchener said that the work which had brought the governments to pretoria should be commenced, and expressed it as his opinion that, as the negotiations were at first to be conducted in an informal manner, the secretaries should retire. thereupon these gentlemen left the hall, the doors were closed, everybody sat down at the table, and lord kitchener asked who was to begin. president steyn answered that lord kitchener should. thereupon lord kitchener began. he spoke in the tone of a person who had a grievance. he wished, he said, to say something concerning what he had been reported as having said in june , when he had negotiated with general louis botha. in connection with those negotiations, he declared that he had been misrepresented, wrong motives having been imputed to him. it had been said, for instance, that he had contemplated the destruction of the boers. he could, however, give the assurance that no such thing had ever been his intention. those who said so greatly misrepresented him. whether what he said was aimed at general botha, nobody can say--he mentioned no names. he spoke, however, in the tone of a person who considered that he had been unfairly treated. "but," he suddenly said, "that is past. i only say this because no official minutes are being kept, everything must take place informally and in a friendly manner.... i understand that you have something to propose. this can be done now." acting president s. w. burger then introduced the question. he said that both the governments had drawn up a proposal at klerksdorp, and he then proceeded to read the proposal article by article. state-secretary f. w. reitz acted as interpreter between the two parties. then president steyn spoke. he thanked lord kitchener for the readiness with which he had consented to meet the governments, and gave the assurance that they were earnestly desirous that the war should cease. he also wished, he said, to make an explanation, and this was with respect to a misunderstanding which the british government was apparently labouring under in regard to the position of the deputation in europe, in relation to the burghers in south africa. from the correspondence of lord lansdowne with the dutch government, it seemed as if the government of his british majesty were in doubt as to whether the deputation in europe still represented the boers in the field. that they still represented the boers president steyn declared was most certainly the case. they still enjoyed the fullest confidence of both governments. coming to the matter at issue, the president said that the governments and the people were very desirous that peace should be restored. but the peace that was to be restored should be a lasting one, and that was why the proposals were of the nature the governments had proposed. they had come there to attain no other object than that for which the people had fought until this moment. here lord kitchener interrupted president steyn with a question which seemed to express great astonishment. he drew up his shoulders, threw his head forward to one side, and asked, "must i understand from what you say that you wish to retain your independence?" _president steyn._ yes, the people must not be reduced to such a condition as to lose their self-respect, and be placed in such a position that they will feel themselves degraded in the eyes of the british. _lord kitchener._ but that could not be; it is impossible for a people that has fought as the boers have done to lose their self-respect; and it is just as impossible for englishmen to regard them with contempt. what i would advise you is, that you should submit to the british flag, and should now take the opportunity to obtain the best terms in regard to self-government and other matters. _president steyn._ i would like to know from your excellency what sort of self-government it would be? would it be like that in the cape colony? _lord kitchener._ yes, precisely so. _president steyn._ i thank your excellency. i put the question merely for information. lord kitchener then proceeded to say that one should bear in mind the british colonists. "the colonists," he said, "were proud of their own nationality. if anyone, for instance, asked a colonist in australia whether he was an englishman, then his answer would be 'no, i am an australian.' and yet such a man felt himself to be one with the british nation, and was proud of being a british subject." president steyn then said that this comparison would not hold. in the case of english colonies one had to do with communities which from the beginning had grown up under the british flag, with all the limitations connected therewith. the colonists had not possessed anything which they had had to surrender, and having had nothing to lose they would have nothing to complain about. in the case of the boers it was quite different. the africanders in the two republics were an independent people. and if that independence were taken away from them they would immediately feel themselves degraded, and a grievance would arise which would necessarily lead to a condition of things similar to that in ireland. the conditions in ireland had arisen mainly from the fact that ireland was a conquered country. lord kitchener replied that ireland could not serve as a parallel, seeing that it had never had self-government. to this president steyn replied that the irish had self-government, and that in a measure that had never yet been granted to any colony, seeing that they were represented in the imperial parliament. their power also in this respect was so great that the irish vote, under a strong man like parnell, could turn the scale in a parliamentary question in one way or another. lord kitchener then said that he was himself an irishman, and therefore better able to judge in regard to irish affairs. he proceeded to say that what was contemplated by the british government was self-government for the boers, preceded by military rule for a certain period. that this military rule as a preliminary measure was indispensable at the commencement of peace for the establishment and maintenance of law and order; that as soon as this period had elapsed self-government would be substituted for it, and then the boers could annul any measure or law made by the military authorities. he remarked, however, that he felt sure that much that was good would be called into being by the military government, which they would not desire afterwards to rescind. but the people would have it in their power to decide in every case. a desultory discussion followed now, and lord kitchener urged that the governments should make a proposal in accordance with what he had suggested; and both the presidents replied that the governments, according to the constitutions of the republics, were not qualified to make any proposal whereby the independence of the republics should be touched. when lord kitchener saw that he could make no progress he moved about impatiently in his chair, and said,--again with the same gesture as before: that if the governments wished he would telegraph their proposal to his government, but he could guess--he did not know officially what they would do in england, what he said was merely his own opinion,--but he could guess what the answer would be. the presidents then expressed their desire that lord kitchener should send the proposal that had been made by them; but he thought that it was not desirable to transmit it in the form in which it had been laid before him. he thought it could be drafted in a more acceptable form. thereupon he took a pencil and roughly drafted the preamble of a telegram. he read it aloud, and asked whether anybody wished to make any remark upon it, in order to make the telegram still more acceptable; and whether they wished to appoint anyone for this purpose. mr. reitz was nominated, and the preamble of lord kitchener with the points of the proposal (modified, as will be observed) was thus drawn up, approved of by all, and, on the adjournment of the meeting, forwarded to the british government. from lord kitchener to secretary of state. "pretoria, _ th april _. "... the boer representatives wish to lay before his majesty's government that they have an earnest desire for peace, and that they have consequently decided to ask the british government to end hostilities and to enter into an agreement of peace with them. they are prepared to enter into an agreement by which, in their opinion, all future wars between them and the british government in south africa will be prevented. they consider this object may be attained by providing for the following points:-- " . franchise. " . equal rights for dutch and english languages in educational matters. " . customs union. " . dismantling of all forts in transvaal and free state. " . post, telegraph, and railway union. " . arbitration in case of future differences, and only subjects of the parties to be the arbitrators. " . mutual amnesty. "... but if these terms are not satisfactory, they desire to know what terms the british government would give them in order to secure the end they all desire." after this conversation with lord kitchener the two governments consulted with each other, and agreed that when they again met the representative of the british government they would very clearly declare their standpoint, namely, that in the matter of independence it was the people alone that could constitutionally decide. sunday was passed quietly, and divine service was held in the house in which the free state government was quartered. early on monday morning, the th of april, lord kitchener sent to the members of both governments a copy of the following telegram. he also stated that lord milner would take part with him in the conference. the telegram was as follows:-- from secretary of state to lord kitchener. "london, _ april _. "... his majesty's government sincerely share the earnest desire of the boer representatives, and hope that the present negotiations may lead to that result. but they have already stated in the clearest terms, and must repeat, that they cannot entertain any proposals which are based on the continued independence of the former republics which have been formally annexed to the british crown. it would be well for you and milner to interview boer representatives and explain this. you should encourage them to put forward fresh proposals, excluding independence, which we shall be glad to receive." at ten o'clock the members of the government again assembled in lord kitchener's house. lord milner entered the hall after the members of the government had assembled, and was introduced to the representatives of the people by lord kitchener. he greeted the presidents as "mr. steyn and mr. burger." but later, during the conference, he addressed each--was it inadvertently--as president. it struck me that he had piercing eyes, that apparently strove to penetrate the person on whom they were fixed. those who had seen him before, said that he had become very thin. he had grown grey, and wrinkles were beginning to show on his forehead. he also looked pale, and he seemed to show signs of fatigue. before the conference was continued, lord milner spoke a few words. he also wished to remove wrong impressions. he declared that it had been said that he was not well disposed towards the boers. that was incorrect. he could give the assurance that he wished to promote the interests of the boers; and that he, like themselves, desired peace. thereupon lord kitchener laid the telegram from the british government on the table. without entering into discussion on it, the presidents pointed out that it was impossible for the two governments to act in accordance with the desire of the british government, seeing that, as had already been said on saturday, they were not qualified to discuss the question of independence before having consulted the people. _lord milner._ may i ask if the prisoners-of-war will also be consulted? _president steyn._ your excellency surely cannot be in earnest in putting this question? _lord milner_ (in a tone of annoyance). yes, certainly. _president steyn._ how can the prisoners-of-war be consulted?--they are civilly dead. to mention one practical difficulty: suppose the prisoners should decide that the war should be continued, and the burghers on commando that it should not--what then?-- lord kitchener and lord milner, seeing the absurdity, laughed aloud. they quite agreed with president steyn, and admitted that the difficulty raised by him was to the point. lord kitchener, however, wished to call attention to the word "excluding" in the answer of the british government. he put it that the words "excluding independence" rendered a discussion, as to dependence or independence, superfluous. the question should now be discussed as if independence were finally excluded; and assuming this, such proposals should be made as it was thought would be acceptable as well for the boers as for the british government. president steyn then pointed out again that it was beyond the power of the government to do so. they had no right to make a proposal that even assumed the exclusion of independence. lord kitchener and lord milner here again agreed with the president. both said at the same time, "we agree--we agree." meanwhile it had been urged several times that lord kitchener should request his government to make such proposals as might be regarded as some kind of compensation, and which could, as such, be laid before the people, in case the question of surrendering their independence were laid before them. now this may look as if the governments were already convinced that our cause was a hopeless one, and that they, being themselves not qualified to surrender the independence, were only waiting for the decision of the people thereupon. but i know well that the majority at least of the men there did not think so, and that they felt convinced that, if they appealed to the people, the people would with one accord say, "we will retain our independence, and if england does not agree to this, then we shall go on with the war." the representatives of the english government would not, however, be persuaded that the british government should make any proposals, and after much discussion lord milner said that it appeared to him that they had come to a "dead-lock." "it seems so to me too," said lord kitchener, "and that is just what i wish to avoid.--would the gentlemen not," he continued, "first consult about this privately? if so, lord milner and i can retire from the room for a while, and the result of your deliberations can, when you are ready, be communicated to us"-- but it was agreed to adjourn till three o'clock in the afternoon. it is not necessary to relate here the particulars of the private conference which was held. i will only record the resolution that was taken: "the governments, considering that the people have hitherto fought and sacrificed everything for their independence, and as they constitutionally have not the power to make any proposal touching independence, and as the british government now ask for other proposals from them, which they cannot make without having previously consulted the people, they propose that an armistice be agreed upon to enable them to do so. at the same time they request that a member of the deputation should come over to them." at three o'clock they again met the representatives of the british government. president steyn then began by saying (in the spirit of the resolution that had been taken), that the governments, having taken the reply of the british government into consideration, had concluded that they could make no proposal on the basis therein suggested; but as they were desirous of seeing peace restored, they requested ( ) that one of our delegates (in europe) should obtain a safe-conduct to come hither, and that, if it were deemed inadvisable to allow him to return, he might remain somewhere in south africa, on parole, till the war was over; ( ) that an armistice should be agreed upon in order to enable the governments to consult the people regarding the question of independence. lord kitchener said, "this comes as a surprise on us!" the question as to allowing a member of the deputation to come over was now left unanswered. it had already been discussed in the forenoon, and then lord kitchener had said, that it concerned a military question regarding which he had himself to decide, and that he could not grant the request, because it would be an exceptional mode of proceeding to which he could not consent. as to an armistice, he now also at first said nothing; but after waiting some moments he said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, that it seemed better for him to ask his government to make proposals which could be regarded as compensation to the boers for the surrender of their independence. but this was exactly what the governments had repeatedly desired of him, and which he, without positively refusing, had ignored. up to the moment that he made the proposal which he now made, he and lord milner had been trying to compromise the governments, by binding them in one way or other to the surrender of independence. he now, however, no doubt perceived that there was a risk of the negotiations breaking off, and proposed--as if it had come to him as an inspiration--what the governments had constantly, but without result, desired of him. what he suggested was of course immediately accepted, and the following telegram, drafted in accordance therewith, was sent by him to his government:-- from lord kitchener to secretary of state, "pretoria, _ th april _. "a difficulty has arisen in getting on with proceedings. the representatives state that constitutionally they have no power to discuss terms based on the surrender of independence, inasmuch as only the burghers can agree to such a basis, therefore, if they were to propose terms, it would put them in a false position with regard to their people. if, however, his majesty's government could state the terms that, subsequent to a relinquishment of independence, they would be prepared to grant, the representatives, after asking for the necessary explanations, without any expression of approval or disapproval, would submit such conditions to their people." the governments waited for a reply the whole of tuesday. on wednesday the officers--who had been absent from their commandos so long--became impatient, and general de wet was just about to proceed to lord kitchener to inquire if matters could not be expedited, when a letter was received from him saying that an answer from the english government had been received, acknowledging the receipt of the telegram that had been sent on monday, and adding that an answer to it would be sent during the course of the day. but it did not arrive during the day, and the dissatisfaction of the generals increased. the impatience grew greater, especially when the english gave accounts of a fight that had taken place with the commando of general de la rey after he had left it, and said that commandant potgieter and burghers had fallen. at last, on the following morning, thursday, the th of april, lord kitchener invited the members of the governments once more, and laid before them the following telegram:-- from secretary of state to lord kitchener. "london, _ th april _. "we have received with considerable surprise the message from the boer leaders contained in your telegram. the meeting has been arranged at their request, and they must have been aware of our repeated declarations that we could not entertain any proposals based on the renewed independence of the two south african states. we were therefore entitled to assume that the boer representatives had relinquished the idea of independence and would propose terms of surrender for the forces still in the field. they now state they are constitutionally incompetent to discuss terms which do not include a restoration of independence, but ask us to inform them what conditions would be granted if, after submitting the matter to their followers, they were to relinquish the demand for independence. "this does not seem to us a satisfactory method of proceeding, or one best adapted to secure at the earliest moment a cessation of the hostilities which have involved the loss of so much life and treasure. we are, however, as we have been from the first, anxious to spare the effusion of further blood and to hasten the restoration of peace and prosperity to the countries afflicted by the war, and you and lord milner are authorised to refer the boer leaders to the offer made by you to general botha more than twelve months ago, and to inform them that although subsequent great reduction in the strength of the forces opposed to us and the additional sacrifices thrown upon us by the refusal of that offer would justify us in proposing far more onerous terms, we are still prepared, in the hope of a permanent peace and reconciliation, to accept a general surrender on the lines of that offer, but with such modifications in details as may be mutually agreed upon." the conference was not long. our governments left the hall to consult with one another. they resolved again to ask lord kitchener that a member of our deputation should be allowed to come over to us, and that an armistice should be agreed to, to enable us to consult the people. on returning and again making this request, lord kitchener without hesitation replied that the deputation would not be allowed to come. he asked what the good of it would be, as nothing was really happening in europe that could help the boers. this, he said, the governments could see for themselves in the newspapers. he could also give them the assurance of it on his word of honour. he also gave his decision with regard to an armistice. he could not grant it; but he declared that he was willing to do what he could. he was prepared to give the governments every possible opportunity to enable them to get the votes of the people. he would give the generals the use for that purpose of the railway and telegraph. they could go to the people, and call them together to meetings where they could ascertain what the burghers thought on the matter in question. the task of the governments was for the present completed. all left the hall excepting generals botha, de wet, and de la rey. these remained to discuss with lord kitchener the method of getting about their work. the generals proposed to lord kitchener, and it was accepted by him, that thirty burghers for each republic--sixty in all--should be chosen by the people at their meetings to express the will of the people. it was also decided that after the sixty representatives had become acquainted with the views of the people, they should acquaint the governments with the same on the th of may , at vereeniging, in order that they could lay the same before the british government. lord kitchener also granted an armistice of one day, at the centres where the different meetings were to be held; and further, to those commandos whose chief officers were chosen to represent the people at vereeniging, as long as these officers should be absent, in order to attend the conference. it was also promised that the governments would not be interfered with where they waited until the assembly began on the th of may at vereeniging. in the meanwhile the secretaries had been very busy writing out a document which would explain the whole condition of affairs. this document, to which the correspondence exchanged between lord kitchener on behalf of the two governments and the british government was appended, was to be given to the officers, to be read by them to the people at their meetings, so as to enable them more easily to decide the question. on friday evening, the th of april, the governments left pretoria. the three generals and some of the members of the executive council went in different directions to do their important work. the other members, to whom no special work had been intrusted, sought a place somewhere, where they could rest quietly and await the result of the voting. what would that be? that question everyone asked with more or less uneasiness, and all thought with anxiety of the future. but not alone did the great importance of our cause weigh heavily upon us. there was something else that disquieted us. president steyn was very ill. the condition of his eyes, of which i have already spoken, and which had been part of the reason why he had come to the transvaal, appeared to be of a more serious nature than we had suspected. dr. w. van der merwe, of krugersdorp, had declared that it was a dangerous affection of the nerves, and everyone could see now that it was so. the president gradually became weaker and weaker, and when he took part in the negotiations, it had already become difficult for him to ascend the doorsteps. after the negotiations dr. van der merwe advised him strongly not to return to the veld whilst we were waiting for the result of the meetings of the people, and said that his house at krugersdorp was at his service. but the president, ill as he was, grateful though he was to the kind doctor, said that he could not think of it, because, if he remained at krugersdorp, this would have a bad influence upon the people; and he resolved to go out again. so he went from pretoria to klerksdorp, and from there to leeuwfontein, six miles from wolmeranstad. there he remained for a week, and then took up his abode in a half-destroyed house in wolmeranstad, which he did not leave until we went to vereeniging. the long time of rest stood me in good stead. i made use of it to write my notes in connection with the negotiation. chapter iii the meeting of representatives of the people at vereeniging on friday evening, the th of april , the generals had, as we saw in the foregoing chapter, left pretoria for the purpose of going through the two republics and ascertaining what the wish of the people was in regard to the great matter on which the governments themselves had no power to decide. all went prosperously. the officers who held the meetings were everywhere helped by the english. rail and telegraph were at their service, and when the th of may approached, all the meetings had been held and all the representatives elected. on the th of may all the general officers had been elected, and had left as representatives of the people for vereeniging. there was, accordingly, an armistice from that day everywhere in the two states for the burghers under the command of such officers. together with president steyn i set out for vereeniging. on the way thither he became gradually weaker, and when on the th of may we arrived at klerksdorp he could no longer dismount from his spider without assistance. he could no longer walk without leaning on someone for support. we went into the train immediately on our arrival at klerksdorp, and the journey began that same evening. the following morning we reached vereeniging. a thick mist covered the ground, and it was cold. there was therefore nothing in nature to cheer one, or to give a good omen for the great work that lay before the representatives of the people. we were immediately conducted to the camp[ ] that had been prepared for the delegates, and we found that almost all the representatives of both the states had already arrived there. how pleasant it was to meet friends and acquaintances from all parts. they had much to relate about what had occurred since we had spoken to each other last, and we could also tell much about our own experiences. although they had arrived in the camp only a little before us, they had the manner of people who knew more about things than new arrivals, and took a pardonable pleasure in instructing us as to the topography of the camp. we learned that tents had been pitched for the free state representatives in the south-east portion of the camp, and for those of the transvaal in the north-west. in the middle between the two "states" there was a large tent, where the meetings were to be held. [footnote : here is a sketch of the camp-- illustration: orange transvaal. free state. ' tents of delegates. ' tents of members of government. ' dining-room of delegates. ' dining-room of members of government. tent for the conference. ' tents of english officers who had the duty of providing for the delegates.] everything was arranged with the object of making it as pleasant as possible for the deputies. there was, we soon found, nothing to complain of. the friendliness of the english left nothing to desire. the english officers who had charge of the delegates attended to every request and granted everything that was asked, if it was in their power. nothing was wanting that could, under the circumstances, be provided. after breakfast, the governments held a preliminary meeting in the tent of president steyn. it may well be imagined what the feelings of everyone were at seeing the rapid decline that had taken place in the health of the great leader. there was this strong man, seized in the iron grasp of an inexorable malady, and it seemed as if within a short month he had grown many years older. but his intellect was as clear and as strong as ever, and his courage still greater than before. when he spoke there was not the slightest sign of despondency in his words, and his strong personality still, as in his best days, commanded respect. but his body--his body had been stricken; and while the unconquerable spirit was willing, the poor instrument of flesh and blood was unable to accomplish. words of heartfelt sympathy were spoken, or a silent pressure of the hand was given. the governments had met to make some preliminary arrangements before the delegates should meet. first a decision was taken as to the oath which the deputies should take; and then the commission which the delegates had received from the people was discussed. it appeared that at the meetings held by general l. botha and most of the transvaal officers, and at those held in the orange free state by judge hertzog, the delegates had been fully empowered to act on behalf of the people according to circumstances, and even to come to a final decision. on the other hand, at the meetings held by general de wet in the free state and by general de la rey in the south african republic, the people had given to their delegates a fixed and limited authority, whatever else might be decided, in no case to relinquish the independence of the states. the question was now raised, whether representatives with such conflicting commissions could be lawfully constituted an assembly, and the assembly to pass resolutions as to matters treating of a final decision. the discussion of this question threatened to take up too much time, and the governments resolved to leave this point to the decision of the delegates themselves. at eleven o'clock there assembled in the large tent the following representatives of the people, who took the oath and signed it:-- for the south african republic. . h. a. alberts, general, heidelberg. . j. j. alberts, commandant, standerton and wakkerstroom. . j. f. de beer, commandant, bloemhof. . c. f. beyers, assistant commandant-general, waterberg. . c. birkenstock, burgher, vryheid. . h. j. bosman, landdrost, wakkerstroom. . chris botha, assistant commandant-general, swazieland, state artillery. . b. h. breytenbach, field-cornet, utrecht. . c. j. brits, general, standerton. . j. g. cilliers, general, lichtenburg. . j. de clercq, assistant commandant, burgher, middelburg. . t. a. d�nges, field-cornet, of the town of heidelberg and bodyguard to the government. . h. s. grobler, commandant, bethal. . j. l. grobler, burgher, carolina. . j. n. h. grobler, general, ermelo. . b. t. j. van heerden, field-cornet, rustenburg. . j. f. jordaan, commandant, vryheid. . j. kemp, general, krugersdorp. . p. j. liebenberg, general, potchefstroom. . c. h. muller, general, boksburg. . j. f. naud�, burgher of pretoria, with flying commando of general kemp. . d. j. e. opperman, field-cornet, pretoria south. . b. j. roos, field-cornet, piet-retief. . p. d. roux, field-cornet, marico. . d. j. schoeman, commandant, lydenburg. . f. c. stoffberg, acting landdrost, zoutpansberg. . s. p. du toit, general, wolmeranstad. . p. l. uys, commandant, pretoria north. . p. r. viljoen, burgher, heidelberg. . m. j. viljoen, commandant, witwatersrand. for the orange free state. . c. c. f. badenhorst, assistant chief-commandant, boshof and hoopstad, western portion of bloemfontein, winburg, and kroonstad. . a. j. bester, commandant, bethlehem. . a. j. bester, commandant, bloemfontein. . l. p. h. botha, commandant, harrismith. . g. a. brand, assistant chief-commandant, bethulie, caledon river, rouxville, wepener, and eastern portion of bloemfontein. . h. j. bruwer, commandant, bethlehem. . d. h. van coller, commandant, heilbron. . f. r. cronje, commandant, winburg. . d. f. h. flemming, commandant, hoopstad. . c. c. froneman, assistant chief-commandant, winburg and ladybrand. . f. j. w. j. hattingh, assistant chief-commandant, eastern part of kroonstad and heilbron. . j. a. m. hertzog, commandant, philippolis. . j. n. jacobs, commandant, boshof. . f. p. jacobsz, commandant, harrismith. . a. j. de kock, commandant, vrede. . j. j. koen, commandant, ladybrand. . h. j. kritzingen, field-cornet, kroonstad. . f. e. mentz, commandant, heilbron. . j. a. p. van der merve, commandant, heilbron. . c. a. van niekerk, commandant, kroonstad. . h. van niekek, commandant of bodyguard to president steyn. . j. j. van niekerk, commandant, ficksburg. . j. k. nieuwoudt, assistant chief-commandant, philippolis, fauresmith, jacobsdal, and a portion of bloemfontein. . h. p. j. pretorius, commandant, jacobsdal. . a. m. prinsloo, assistant chief-commandant, bethlehem and ficksburg. . l. j. rautenbach, commandant, bethlehem. . f. j. rheeder, commandant, rouxville. . a. ross, commandant, vrede. . p. w. de vos, commandant, kroonstad. . w. j. wessels, assistant chief-commandant, harrismith and vrede. the representatives chose general c. f. beyers as chairman; and as secretaries, mr. d. e. van velden, minute-keeper of the government of the south african republic, and the rev. j. d. kestell, acting secretary of the executive council of the orange free state. the chairman asked the rev. j. d. kestell to open the proceedings with prayer, and then acting president s. w. burger declared the meeting to be legally constituted. thereupon the meeting was adjourned. in the afternoon the delegates met at three o'clock. before beginning the discussion of the important subjects, the chairman said it would be well if the acting president of the south african republic were first to address some words of explanation to serve as a guide to the meeting. acting president burger then addressed the meeting, and explained, as already stated earlier in this book, that it was the correspondence between holland and england that had brought about, first a meeting between both the governments at klerksdorp, and subsequently a meeting with lord kitchener and lord milner at pretoria. the presence of the delegates at vereeniging at that moment had resulted from the fact, that when it appeared that the british government insisted on the surrender of independence the two governments had declared that it was beyond their power constitutionally to enter into discussions on that point; of that the people alone could treat. thereupon both governments had made arrangements with lord kitchener to proceed to the people and hear what they desired. the people had elected representatives, and these were now assembled at vereeniging to inform the governments what the will of the people was. president burger then proceeded to state that the english government would not entertain the idea of independence for the two republics, and that the delegates there present should bear this in mind; they would have to give information as to the condition of the country, and to decide whether, bearing that condition in mind, the struggle could still be continued. whether the destruction of the entire nation would not be the result of continuing the war, and whether it would be right to do this. he then referred to the question which had arisen as to the qualification of the members to sit together in conference and to decide upon questions, seeing that some delegates had received full powers to act, whilst others had only a limited commission, which bound them to a certain course of action. he trusted, however, that this would place no insurmountable obstacle in the way. finally he expressed the hope that they would bear with one another, and warned the members against divided counsels. thereupon the chairman asked general l. botha to address the meeting. the general replied that he did not see his way to doing this, since the question as to the powers of the delegates was not yet clear to him. it was then that judge j. b. m. hertzog explained that a representative of the people, from a legal point of view, could not be regarded as a mere agent or mouthpiece of his constituents; but that he, in matters of a public nature, held a general power with the right of acting according to his convictions, whatever might be the special injunction that had been laid upon him by the constituents. general j. c. smuts, state-attorney of the south african republic, was of the same opinion. this satisfied the commandant-general, and he commenced with a general statement as to the condition of his commandos. general de wet and also general de la rey addressed the meeting. they stated, however, that they were purposely brief, because the making of formal reports should be left to the delegates themselves. the representatives then addressed the meeting, and the first and a part of the second day were spent in the hearing of reports. the delegates spoke till late at night, for they desired not to lose any time. from the reports of the members of the meeting it was evident that the condition of the country was miserable. there were no less than fourteen districts of the transvaal that had become so exhausted that the commandos would no longer be able to continue in them. food had become exceedingly scarce everywhere, and in some parts the burghers were dependent solely on the kaffirs for their supplies. everywhere the "horse sickness" was causing great uneasiness, and the number of those who had to go on foot was daily increasing. special reference was made to the distress caused by the sad fate of the women, who were still found in greater and smaller numbers in different parts of the two states. they often suffered great want, and were constantly exposed to dangers at times when their husbands could afford them no assistance. in the orange free state matters were somewhat more favourable. it was true that some portions of this country were exhausted; but in general the delegates from there thought that the war could still be continued for six months or a year. still, there were some who related sad facts and who were not silent as to the sufferings of the women in that republic. on the second morning this resolution was adopted:-- "that the governments be requested through lord kitchener, to thank his majesty the king of england and her majesty the queen of holland for their interposition in connection with the bringing about of peace negotiations, as appears from the correspondence between the said governments, and to express their regret that his majesty's government had not adopted the suggestion of her majesty's government, to give our delegates in europe, who still possess our fullest confidence, the opportunity of coming to the republics, and also that lord kitchener has refused to accede to a similar request made by our governments." after this resolution had been adopted by the meeting, almost all the delegates had given their reports on the condition of both states. the chairman then caused the letter, together with its annexures, which had been addressed by the governments from pretoria to the burghers in the veld, to be read. after that it became the duty of the delegates to consider what was to be done. in the letter sent by the governments at pretoria to the burghers it was stated that the british government still adhered to the same proposals that they had made to general l. botha at middelburg on the th of march . the british government demanded that a general surrender should first take place, and if that were done they would grant the boers certain privileges, and as soon as possible self-government. the question now before the meeting was, whether the representatives would accept this proposal of england, or--reject it and continue the war? it was immediately evident that the meeting was, to express myself so, divided into two camps: the one forced to the conviction, that it was no longer possible to resist the inevitable; the other holding that the end had not yet come, and that, if england would negotiate upon no other basis than that which insisted upon the surrender of independence, the war ought to be continued. the free state delegates, with the exception of two or three, were with one accord of the latter opinion, whilst the majority of the whole assembly were convinced of the opposite. among the transvaalers there were some who had come to the meeting with the motto, "independence, or else fight on!" but these, with the exception of six, came to the conclusion during the discussion that it was their duty for the sake of others to modify their views. the reasons for ending the struggle, which were given by those delegates who now declared that it could no longer be proceeded with, were more particularly the following:-- the country was, as already briefly indicated above, so devastated and exhausted by the burning and destruction of farms and villages, the removal of all cattle and sheep, the ruthless slaying of sheep, and destruction of grain of all sorts, that we were standing upon the threshold of a famine. it was further pointed out that horses were becoming more and more scarce, and what would the burghers signify without horses? but it was the condition of the women, above all, that went to their hearts. the condition of the women was most pitiable. they were almost naked and suffered from hunger. they were exposed to dangers just at the times when the men had to retire before overwhelming odds, and thus had no protection just when they stood most in need of it. it was also shown that the commandos were becoming weaker and weaker, and that if in the future matters took the same course as in the past, nothing remained for us but certain destruction. acting president burger and commandant-general botha spoke in this strain. the former warned the leaders that they should not continue the war merely for the sake of their own honour, and that they had no right to sacrifice a nation to their own ambition. the latter said that he was not thinking of himself, when he declared that they could not continue the struggle. he himself could still go on, for his family was provided for. he had horses too; he wanted nothing. besides, it was his earnest desire to continue the war. but he dared not think of himself only. constantly the question arose in his mind, what would become of the people? and without intermission, a voice spoke within him that it was his duty now, whilst it was yet possible, to do the best he could for his people. he also referred to the fact that it had been repeatedly declared that we should continue to the "bitter end." he would ask _where_ that bitter end was? would it be reached when the last man lay in his grave or had been banished, or had it been reached when the nation had striven until it could do so no longer? general de la rey, too, spoke in the same spirit. he could still continue, he declared. his commandos were still able to continue the struggle, but this many others could not do--and if all could not do it, then a portion could not. from all that he had heard at the meeting he had come to the mournful conclusion that the war should be discontinued. he also referred to what had been said as to enduring to the end. "fight to the bitter end?" he asked, addressing the meeting,--"do you say that? _but has the bitter end not come?_ each one of you must decide that question for himself." with regard to the expectations we had of the cape colony, these evaporated when general smuts said that there was no possibility in the cape colony of a general revolt. he declared that everything possible had been done there. the colonists could not have done more than they had done, but a general rising was, for various reasons, impossible. if, therefore, a reason for continuing the struggle in the republics themselves did not exist any longer, it would be idle to go and seek it in the cape colony. the delegates on the other side did not deny that the condition of things was appalling, and that there was great distress everywhere; that especially the sufferings of the women were so great that one could not think of it without danger of becoming weak and despondent, and that there were large portions of the country that had become entirely exhausted. but it was argued that this was also the case, or at least had been said to be the case, a year ago, when general smuts, the state-attorney, had in his telegram to our deputation in europe described the condition of the country as being most dreadful. then also it had been said by many that through want of ammunition, and of other things absolutely necessary for the continuance of the war, we could fight no longer; and yet the struggle had been continued after that for twelve months. with respect to what had been said concerning the districts which would have to be abandoned, it was urged that in the free state there were portions which had been entirely destroyed and consequently abandoned; but these had nevertheless later on been again inhabited and supplied with cattle. and then it was asked, whether the war had not been begun in faith, and whether it could not be carried through in the same faith? general de wet spoke in this strain. he pointed with earnestness to the fact that times of depression had been surmounted in the past, and that they should be surmounted again. if there were those who could not provide for themselves, then it was the duty of the meeting to do so for them, and to continue the war. referring to the charge made by some, that those who wished to continue the war did not take facts into consideration, he said that he had nothing to do with facts, it was a war of faith; he had to concern himself with _a fact only when he had to clear it out of the way_. and yet, it was these facts that were constantly being pointed at. they were declared to be insurmountable. many advised those who wished to continue the war, to consult not only their hearts but their common sense, and if they did this they would see what god's purpose with us in this war was. one delegate said that the war had been commenced with prayer and with the mauser, and, he asked, what had been god's answer to this prayer? "can you not see," he continued, "that the hand of god is stretched out against us?" the middleburg proposals then were before the meeting. the question now was, what the meeting was going to do in regard to those proposals? it was soon evident that the delegates were not prepared to accept them, and were of opinion that before deciding another endeavour should be made to see whether the british government was not inclined to conclude peace upon some other basis, a basis which would not exclude the independence of the two states. it had, however, become plain to all that, as matters then stood, the people could not expect to have the same measure of independence which they had enjoyed before the war, and the delegates felt that they would have to concede and surrender much. the state-secretary, mr. f. w. reitz, had suggested what might be surrendered. we could, he said, agree to the surrender of a portion of our territory--the goldfields and zwasieland, for instance. we could relinquish our foreign policy. we could even agree to an english protectorate. there were those who were opposed to this idea, yet it seemed that mr. reitz's view was in accordance with the sentiments of the meeting, and several members expressed themselves to the same effect. * * * * * i have now briefly summed up, and arranged in order, what was discussed by the representatives of the people at vereeniging. i have now in this chapter only to add that on the third day of the meeting, on saturday, th may, two resolutions were adopted. the first empowered both governments to conclude peace on this basis:-- the retention of a limited independence, with the power to offer, over and above what had already been offered, by both governments in their negotiations of th april -- . the relinquishment of foreign relations and embassies. . the acceptance of the protectorate of great britain. . the surrender of a portion of the territory of the south african republic. . the conclusion of a defensive treaty with great britain with regard to south africa. the second proposal authorised the governments to appoint a commission to negotiate with lord kitchener on any subject that might lead to a satisfactory peace, and to submit, through the governments, the result of their labours to the meeting for ratification. shortly after these two resolutions had been agreed to the meeting was closed with prayer, and adjourned until the report of the commission was handed in. immediately after the close of the meeting the governments met in the tents of president steyn, who had been too weak to be present except at two of the sessions, and they nominated the generals l. botha, c. r. de wet, j. h. de la rey, j. c. smuts, and judge j. b. m. hertzog as the commission to negotiate at pretoria. the following day a service was held in the large tent, and those present were addressed on the striking words of paul: "i am not speaking falsely, and my conscience, enlightened by the holy spirit, bears me out when i say that i am greatly pained, and that my heart is never free from sorrow. i could wish that i were accursed, and severed from the christ, for the sake of my brothers--my own countrymen" (rom. ix. - ).--_the twentieth century new testament._ in alluding to this divine service, i may also note that every morning a prayer-meeting, and every evening a short service, was held during the whole time that the representatives of the people were at vereeniging; and thus the people remained faithful to the last to that spirit which since and before the days of sarel celliers had inspired the africander nation. the god of their fathers was not forgotten. their posterity also said of that lord, "god is our refuge and our strength." in the afternoon the governments received a reply from lord kitchener and lord milner that the request of the delegates for a conference was acceded to, and that the commission could come to pretoria. the commission left about sunset, and arrived at pretoria at about nine o'clock. chapter iv swimming against the stream on monday morning, the th of may , the commission met early, and wrote a letter, intended to be read to lord kitchener and lord milner, in which the desire of the representatives of the people was explained. as the committee was empowered to negotiate with the british government as to any subject that might lead to peace, they also now discussed the question, what, in case the desire of the delegates were not acceded to, the terms should be on which peace could be concluded. the following points were thereupon taken down:-- . a date to be fixed for the establishment of responsible government. . all burghers of both republics to retain the franchise, and this right to vote to be further regulated on the basis of the existing franchise law of the cape colony. and the electoral divisions to be fixed more or less in accordance with the number of electors. . all families and prisoners to be brought back to their dwellings, as soon as arrangement could possibly be made for their conveyance, as indicated in lord kitchener's letter of the th of march . . both the dutch and english languages to have the same rights. . payment to be made (_a_) of government notes of the south african republic issued during the war. (_b_) of all receipts given according to the custom of the republics, for goods, etc., requisitioned for the use of the commandos. (_c_) of all direct damage caused to burghers in connection with military operations. . the legal status of coloured persons to be the same as in the cape colony, and no right to vote to be given to them before responsible government shall have been introduced here under the laws to be adopted by the future parliaments. all native tribes within and on the borders of both republics to be disarmed immediately after the conclusion of peace. . amnesty to be granted for all acts done in connection with the war by burghers of both republics and of the colonies, and no accounts to be demanded from officers of state monies spent during the war for military purposes. . cessation of hostilities to be arranged with the chief officers. at ten o'clock the commission was invited to the dwelling of lord kitchener. immediately on their arrival in the hall, where both governments had a month previously negotiated with the british government, lord kitchener and lord milner made their appearance, and seats were taken at the table. general l. botha began by saying that, although the negotiations had lasted longer than had been expected, he could give the assurance that the burghers were acting in good faith, and that everything was done with the earnest desire to bring about peace. thereupon the representatives of the british government inquired what the proposals of the delegates at vereeniging were, and the letter prepared by the commission was read as follows:-- to their excellencies lord kitchener and lord milner, pretoria. "pretoria, _ th may _. your excellencies,--with the object of finally putting an end to the existing hostilities, we have the honour, by virtue of the authority granted us by the governments of both republics, to propose the following points as a basis of negotiations over and above the points already offered in the negotiations of april last:-- (_a_) we are prepared to relinquish our independence as regards foreign relationships. (_b_) we wish to retain internal self-government under a british protectorate. (_c_) we are prepared to surrender a portion of our territory. if your excellencies are prepared to negotiate upon this basis, the above-named points can be further discussed in detail. we have the honour to be, your excellencies' obedient servants, louis botha. c. r. de wet. j. h. de la rey. j. b. m. hertzog. j. c. smuts." in this letter, then, the commission laid before the british government the wish of the delegates. how little, indeed, it was that the people desired!--a limited independence! they wished to retain their own flag, and were prepared to make, besides what they had already given in blood and treasure, other sacrifices for it, and that by agreeing thenceforth to signify nothing in the outside world, surrendering all relations with other powers; also, even in regard to their internal government, to have their wings clipped by submitting to the protectorate of england, and to become yet smaller than they were by surrendering a portion of their already small territory. all that they wished for was to be independent, even if it were only partly so. it was in vain! first lord kitchener then lord milner said that the difference between what the people desired and what the british government had proposed was too great; and when the commission replied that there was no distinction in principle, that they would actually be independent no longer if england agreed to the little that was asked, they were curtly answered that it could not be. the states had completely to surrender their independent existence! and thereupon the representatives of the british government refused to discuss the proposal any further. they refused even to telegraph it to england, declaring that they were certain it would not be agreed to there, and that it might injure the cause of the boers. what was the commission now to do? return to the delegates and inform them that england would not grant what they desired? no! they had authority to negotiate on _any_ subject that would lead to the desired peace, and they would now negotiate further, and see what england's intention was. they therefore asked what terms england was prepared to give in case the states surrendered. in the afternoon the following preamble was read as an answer to this question:-- "the undersigned leaders of the burgher forces in the field, accepting on their own behalf and that of the said burghers the annexation proclaimed by lord roberts, and dated respectively on the th may in the year of our lord nineteen hundred, and no. dated on the first day of september in the year of our lord nineteen hundred, and accepting as a consequence thereof their status as british subjects, agree immediately to lay down their arms, surrendering all cannon, guns, and munitions of war in their possession, or under their control, and to cease from all further opposition against the authority of h.m. king edward vii., or his successors. they do this, relying on the assurance of h.m. government that they and the burghers surrendering together with them shall not be deprived of their personal liberty or of their property, and that the future actions of h.m. government with regard to the consequences of the war shall be consistent with the declaration here-under set forth. it is clearly understood that all burghers who are now prisoners-of-war, in order to share in the enjoyment of said assurance, shall declare their acceptance of the status of british subjects." "must we understand," asked general l. botha, when lord milner had read this document,--"must we understand that our proposal is rejected entirely?" both lord kitchener and lord milner replied, "yes!" it was plain to everyone in that room who heard that answer, that we were regarded as having been conquered--completely conquered. * * * * * it was now indicated that something in the spirit of the middleburg proposal would follow upon the preamble that had been read there, and that the exact contents and form of it would have to be agreed upon. the commission began by taking exception to the preamble, as well as to the proposal itself, and explained their objections. no progress could be made. after much had been said on both sides the representatives of the british government proposed that a sub-committee of the commission should be elected to draw up a document, together with lord milner, which should, if possible, be acceptable. it was then agreed that general smuts and judge hertzog should act as such a sub-committee, to draft a proposal in co-operation with lord milner, advised by sir richard solomon. the two men who constituted the sub-committee did much. they opposed all endeavours to make the oath of allegiance obligatory. they succeeded in arranging that no judicial steps, either civil or criminal, should be taken for acts done during the war. they insisted that the governments of both states, if a treaty of peace were made, should sign it as the governments respectively of the south african republic and of the orange free state, and thus virtually forced the british government to treat the "annexations" of the two republics as non-existent, and to negotiate not with late republics, but with existing states, whose official names, and not the new names given in the annexation proclamation, it would recognise through the signatures of its representatives. the sub-committee also championed the cause of the colonists who had fought on our side, and although lord milner positively objected to any interference with what he called a matter between the colonial government and their own subjects, the members of the sub-committee nevertheless indirectly received the assurance that the colonists would be treated as leniently as possible. after the sub-committee had, together with lord milner, drawn up the document, it was laid before the two parties. a clause was still wanting which should provide for the payment of receipts which officers in the field had given for provisions bought for the use of the commandos during the war, and in the document no sum of money was named that should be paid to the burghers as compensation for damages. the necessity of paying these receipts was discussed, and it was sad to hear the haggling that went on in regard to this matter. lord milner said it could not be expected that the british government should pay the war costs of both sides; to which it was replied that these receipts were a lawful debt of the country, and that if england took possession of the assets of the country, worth millions of money, she should also be responsible for the debts. it was also pointed out that there were many men who possessed nothing but receipts, and if they were to lose these also, then they would possess nothing whatever. eventually it was agreed that in the draft proposal a clause should be added providing for the payment of the receipts, and that it should be proposed that the sum of £ , , should be given for the payment of these and of the government notes. the commission also wished to have an article providing for the protection of those who had debts to pay. they pointed out that if these people were forced to pay immediately after the war, they, having lost all, would not be able to do so, and would therefore be ruined utterly. the commission desired that no creditor should have the right to take steps against his debtor till after the lapse of a certain period. this matter was regarded by lord kitchener and lord milner as being one connected with a legal question of so intricate a nature that they did not consider it desirable to have it mentioned in the document itself. but they promised to bring it to the notice of the british government and to recommend it to their earnest consideration. the draft proposal was then concluded, and telegraphed to england in the afternoon ( st of may). for a whole week we had to wait before a final answer was received from england, for meanwhile telegrams were being sent backwards and forwards. at last, on the th of may, the answer came, stating that the draft proposal was accepted with certain modifications, and that the proposal as now amended could no longer be altered. it was to be laid before the representatives of the people at vereeniging, who were to give a "yes" or "no" vote on it. the following is the proposal in its final form:-- "general lord kitchener of khartoum, commander-in-chief, and his excellency lord milner, high commissioner, on behalf of the british government, and messrs. s. w. burger, f. w. reitz, louis botha, j. h. de la rey, l. j. meyer, and j. c. krogh, acting as the government of the south african republic, and messrs. m. t. steyn, w. j. c. brebner, c. r. de wet, j. b. m. hertzog, and c. h. olivier, acting as the government of the orange free state, on behalf of their respective burghers, desirous to terminate the present hostilities, agree on the following articles:-- " . the burgher forces in the field will forthwith lay down their arms, handing over all guns, rifles, and munitions of war, in their possession or under their control, and desist from any further resistance to the authority of his majesty king edward vii., whom they recognise as their lawful sovereign. the manner and details of this surrender will be arranged between lord kitchener and commandant-general botha, assistant commandant-general de la rey, and chief-commandant de wet. " . burghers in the field outside the limits of the transvaal and orange river colony, and all prisoners-of-war at present outside south africa, who are burghers, will, on duly declaring their acceptance of the position of subjects of his majesty king edward vii., be gradually brought back to their homes as soon as transport can be provided and their means of subsistence ensured. " . the burghers so surrendering or so returning will not be deprived of their personal liberty or their property. " . no proceedings, civil or criminal, will be taken against any of the burghers so surrendering or so returning for any acts in connection with the prosecution of the war. the benefit of this clause will not extend to certain acts contrary to the usages of war which have been notified by the commander-in-chief to the boer generals, and which shall be tried by court-martial immediately after the close of hostilities. " . the dutch language will be taught in public schools in the transvaal and the orange river colony where the parents of the children desire it, and will be allowed in courts of law when necessary for the better and more effectual administration of justice. " . the possession of rifles will be allowed in the transvaal and orange river colony to persons requiring them for their protection, on taking out a licence according to law. " . military administration in the transvaal and orange river colony will at the earliest possible date be succeeded by civil government, and, as soon as circumstances permit, representative institutions, leading up to self-government, will be introduced. " . the question of granting the franchise to natives will not be decided until after the introduction of self-government. " . no special tax will be imposed on landed property in the transvaal and orange river colony to defray the expenses of the war. " . as soon as conditions permit, a commission, on which the local inhabitants will be represented, will be appointed in each district of the transvaal and orange river colony, under the presidency of a magistrate or other official, for the purpose of assisting the restoration of the people to their homes and supplying those who, owing to war losses, are unable to provide for themselves, with food, shelter, and the necessary amount of seed, stock, implements, etc., indispensable to the resumption of their normal occupations. his majesty's government will place at the disposal of these commissions a sum of three million pounds sterling for the above purposes, and will allow all notes issued under law no. of of the government of the south african republic, and all receipts given by the officers in the field of the late republics, or under their orders, to be presented to a judicial commission, which will be appointed by the government; and if such notes and receipts are found by this commission to have been duly issued in return for valuable consideration, they will be received by the first-named commissions as evidence of war losses suffered by the persons to whom they were originally given. in addition to the above-named free grant of three million pounds, his majesty's government will be prepared to make advances as loans for the same purposes, free of interest for two years, and afterwards repayable over a period of years with per cent. interest. no foreigner or rebel will be entitled to the benefit of this clause." there, then, lay the proposal. nothing could be added to it; nothing could be taken from it. the delegates at vereeniging would have to adopt it as it was, or reject it. with regard to the colonists who had fought on the side of the republics against their own government, a document was read in which it was stated that the cape government had resolved that the "rank and file," if they surrendered, would have to sign a document before a resident magistrate, acknowledging themselves to have been guilty of high treason, and that their punishment would be the loss of the franchise for life; and that persons who had occupied positions under the cape government, or who had been officers of commandos, would have to submit to trial on the charge of high treason, on the understanding, however, that in no case would the penalty of death be inflicted. the natal government, always small, never large-hearted, was of opinion that the colonists who had risen should be treated in accordance with the laws of the colony (natal). the task of the five men was completed. they had done everything in their power to carry out the wishes of the delegates, but they had not been able to succeed. they had been swimming against a stream that was too strong for them. chapter v the bitter end that same evening, the th of may, the commission returned to vereeniging, and the following morning a meeting of both governments was held in the tent of president steyn to hear the report of the five men. the commission read the following letter:-- to the honourable governments of the orange free state and the south african republic. "pretoria, _ th may _. "honourable sirs,--in accordance with our commission from both governments to proceed to pretoria for the purpose of negotiating with the british authorities on the question of peace, we have the honour to report as follows: the sessions lasted from monday the th may till wednesday the th may, and the delay was chiefly caused by the long time which had to be given to the cable correspondence with the british government. first of all, we submitted a proposal in which we endeavoured to negotiate on the basis of a limited independence, with the surrender of a portion of our territory. lord kitchener and lord milner positively refused to negotiate upon this basis, and informed us that if this proposal were telegraphed to the british government it would be detrimental to the negotiations. at the same time we were informed that, as already stated to the two governments, the british government was only prepared to negotiate on the basis of the middleburg proposal, with minor modifications. in order to throw this proposal into a final shape, lord milner asked the assistance of some members of the commission; and this was agreed to, on the understanding that the help of these members should be given without prejudice. "as the result of the labours of this sub-committee, lord milner laid on the table a draft proposal to which we insisted that the new article should be added, which was agreed to (no. ). this draft proposal was then telegraphed to the british government, and was by them altered into a final form, which was communicated to us. this final proposal is annexed hereunto. we were also informed on the part of the british government that this proposal could not be further altered, but had to be either adopted or rejected as it stood by the delegates of both republics: at the same time we were informed, that this adoption or rejection had to take place within a fixed time. we thereupon told lord kitchener that this final decision would be communicated to him not later than saturday evening next (the st of may). "during the formal negotiations some informal discussions also took place regarding the british subjects in the cape colony and natal, who have fought on our side. as the result of these informal discussions, a communication was made to us by the british government, which we annex hereunto.--we have the honour to be your honours' obedient servants, "louis botha. j. h. de la rey. c. r. de wet. j. b. m. hertzog. j. c. smuts." that the governments were greatly disappointed it is needless to say, that they did not say much may be well imagined. still, questions were asked as to the meaning of conditions that appeared to require explanation, and these were answered by the commission to the best of their ability. president steyn made a few remarks, and pointed out how objectionable the proposal was. he expressed himself strongly against the acceptance of it. general de la rey pointed out that the representatives of the people should have to choose one of these three ways out of the difficulty: ( ) to continue the struggle; or ( ) to accept the proposal of the british government; or ( ) unconditional surrender. hereupon president steyn remarked that there was still a fourth: viz. to insist upon our cause being decided in europe by persons empowered, and sent thither by us. "but," he added in a sad tone, "i am like one who had been wounded to death. i can no longer take part in the struggle, and have therefore perhaps no right to speak any more. to-day i must, on account of my serious illness, resign my position, and now the matter is in your hands and in those of the representatives of the people!" it was a hard thing to hear those words: "i am as one who has been wounded to death." our hearts were broken at the thought that the president could not wield the sword. he had in the long and dreadful struggle lived each day on the very summit of determination and of courage. never, not even when he saw that his bodily strength was rapidly failing, had he shown the slightest sign of discouragement. and now he could no longer take part in the struggle. many things in this war had weighed heavily upon us; but the fate of president steyn broke our hearts. having conversed together some moments longer, the governments proceeded to the tent of assembly, and there laid the letter of the commission before the delegates. it was a blow for these representatives of the people, a blow which, though it did not come unexpectedly, was nevertheless overwhelming. it stunned them like the thunder-clap which, expected from moment to moment, at last explodes. the clouds lowered, and their sombre shadow lay upon the meeting until the end of the discussions. in the first place, the commission was asked for explanations regarding the various articles of the british proposal, to which "yes" or "no" was now to be the answer. it was as if they were seeking for something in the proposal that could not be found there. there were all sorts of conditions in it, but all were on one condition: _the republics must surrender their independence!_ during the adjournment in the afternoon the free state delegates met in the tent of general de wet to accept there the resignation of president steyn. they received a letter from him, in which he said that he was obliged to do this on account of his serious illness. he further stated that, according to a law which gave him that power, he had appointed general c. r. de wet as acting state president. just when the letter had been read and discussed, something happened in the tent that drew the heart of the free stater closer to that of the transvaaler than before. acting president burger gave, on behalf of his government to the government of the orange free state, a sum of money--not so much, he said, as they would have desired--for the use of president steyn. all were moved, and judge hertzog expressed the feelings of all when accepting the gift, as chairman, he said that they were deeply touched by the thoughtfulness of the transvaalers, and that their deed afforded a new proof of our indissoluble union. shortly before three o'clock horses were harnessed to the vehicle of president steyn, and accompanied by dr. van der merwe he got into it. dr. van der merwe was now going to take him to his own house at krugersdorp, and there to take further charge of him. and here i must not let the opportunity pass without bearing witness to the unselfishness and self-sacrifice of this doctor. everyone appreciated what he had done for the president, and i feel assured that the africander nation will bear it in thankful remembrance. the president said farewell to those who loved him, and rode away. i sat writing in another tent on some business of his, and did not see him depart. the carriage rolled away, and i had not said farewell to him. i could not let him go without a last pressure of the hand. i ran after the vehicle. the guards stopped it, and so i could reach him. i grasped the hand of the sick man. i still see him as he sat in his carriage. he looked to me like the personification of all that was noble, of all that was heroic: a man who for a great idea could sacrifice all. i feel the pressure of his hand yet, i still hear his words, but how he looked, and what he spoke, i may not, and what passed through my heart, i cannot set down here. the carriage drove away. the curtain had fallen upon a tragedy: martinus theunis steyn had disappeared from the scene. it was as if an arrow had gone through my heart. i went to the tent of assembly. i listened to the words of the delegates, and mechanically made notes of what was said; but my heart was elsewhere. it was with the man who had striven as few could, and who was now being carried away by the train farther and farther from the arena. for a considerable time longer the delegates continued asking for explanations of the articles of the british proposal. at last nothing remained to be asked; then it was that one of the delegates girded himself to the task of placing himself face to face with the question, "what we were to accept: whether we should continue this struggle, or whether we should accept the terms of the british government, or whether we should surrender unconditionally." the delegate who spoke first said that the terms of the english were not such as had been desired, but that under the circumstances no better ones could be expected. it was his opinion that they should be accepted. this delegate had hardly sat down when general nieuwoudt rose and expressed it as his view that the meeting should immediately proceed to vote. this was a bold move, intended, as everyone could see, to obtain a vote for the continuance of the struggle. and this would have happened if a vote had now been taken, for the meeting was just then in a mood to reject the english proposals, which had made a very unfavourable impression. this was well understood, and several members remarked that in such an important matter the meeting should be careful, and not act without due caution; if it did it might prove fatal. the discussions then continued, until a resolution was come to on the afternoon of the third day, saturday, the st of may. as things had gone in the beginning, so they went now. there were two parties, and the views were distinctly and clearly marked; the one side maintaining that it was the duty of the people to continue the struggle, whilst the other party held that, whatever one might wish, it was no longer possible to do so. i shall not note here all that was said, for much that had been said on the th, th, and th of may was repeated. i shall now again, as i did in a former chapter, summarise and arrange. there were some who pointed out that, however one might regard the matter, it was impossible to continue the war. as before, it was remarked that we stood on the threshold of a famine, and that it was want of food that was forcing us to discontinue the struggle. it was also stated that horses had become so scarce that almost three out of every ten burghers had to go about on foot, and that the horses which we still possessed were so weak that they were unable to do the work that was required of them, especially now that no forage was any longer obtainable and they had to subsist on grass only. it had also become undeniably evident that the commandos had grown gradually weaker. where we lost men we could not fill up their places. thus general de la rey--the man who had never shown any signs of discouragement--declared that since his last great fights he had lost men, dead, wounded, and prisoners, and that his cattle had been captured by , mounted troops. commandant-general botha also referred to the fact that the english had , of our men prisoners-of-war, that of these had died, and that of our burghers had fallen in battle. he said that if the war continued in the same manner we should eventually be exhausted, and should not again have a chance to negotiate. general smuts made it clear to the meeting that it was possible to continue the war from a military point of view for three or six months longer; but the war was not a mere _military_ matter, it was a _national_ matter; and he added, "why did we fight? merely for the sake of fighting; merely to shoot and be shot? no, it was for our independence. well, then, was there any chance left, humanly speaking, of retaining it?" but what was more specially urged was the miserable plight of our women. many of them had hardly any clothes left, and they were in danger of dying of famine. when the commandos brought them food it was taken away by the english forces, so pitilessly that they took, as it were, the food out of the mouths of the children. so far from the truth was it that the english had removed our wives to the concentration camps from charitable motives, that during the last six months they had refused to receive them when, driven by want, they had sought refuge in the camps, and had, since the need had become most pressing, sent them back to their ruined dwellings when the women had gone to the towns for help. moreover, every delegate there knew well to what dangers the women were exposed, and that whenever they most required the protection of the men those men had to retire before the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, thus leaving the women behind, exposed to indescribable insults from kaffirs and soldiers. this surely could not continue. on the other hand, it was argued that if the proposal was accepted the nation would thereby be extinguished. it was said that if the war was continued then there was a hope of winning it; but by accepting the proposal the deathblow would be given to our national existence. the unsatisfactory nature of the terms offered by england were also dwelt upon. the arrangement offered in the proposal as to compensation for losses suffered by the war was insufficient, and the people would be reduced to the greatest poverty. it was further urged that we should not allow our courage to sink on account of the dark hour we were passing through. in the past there had also been dark days. dark had been the days when the chief towns had been taken by the enemy, when general prinsloo surrendered, when the railway lines fell completely into the hands of the enemy. but we put our trust in god and carried on the struggle, and no one was made ashamed. after the sifting, those who were left had remained steadfast. the outlook had also been dark when the ammunition was spent. general de wet said that he used to shudder when he saw a burgher coming towards him with an empty cartridge-belt. and yet later on so much was taken from the english that there was now a sufficient supply. the fact also that england was at this moment ready to negotiate was a proof that by persisting we had gained something, for there had been a time when lord salisbury had insisted on unconditional surrender. another delegate also reminded the meeting that there was a time when lord roberts would not meet general botha, and now the english were negotiating with us! why then, some delegates asked, should this be the last chance of negotiating? even if the proposal was now declined--this had been done before several times in the past--england would be willing to negotiate, and the chances were that at each negotiation they would obtain better terms. so the representatives of the people discussed the great question; but it was as if they were grasping at the last straw floating on the stormy waters of a whirlpool. we could not resist the conviction that the africander nation was exhausted. gradually it was becoming evident that it was impossible to continue the war. even those who saw a chance to hold out in their own districts and with their own commandos began more and more to perceive that they could not do so if they stood alone. this conviction acted on the minds of the delegates, and, as general beyers remarked, a spirit of aversion to further resistance arose. against this spirit it was seen to be impossible to struggle. judge hertzog also showed that, although he wished to make no accusation against anyone, the holding of this meeting had been a great mistake, for the meeting had taken away the last plank upon which they had stood. for at this meeting the delegates had been obliged to declare what the true state of the country was, and those who still had courage would now, after learning to what a pass matters had come, grow disheartened. general de la rey also pointed to this when he said, "you may say what you will, resolve what you will; but whatever you do, here in this meeting is the end of the war!" the same was said by general smuts. "this is for us," he said, "a great moment, perhaps the last in which we shall meet as a free people and a free government." it was in vain that voices were still raised for continuing the struggle. in vain that one referred to posterity, and declared that future generations would blame their forefathers that they had laid down their arms when they should have continued the struggle. in vain was it shown that they had been enjoined by their constituents to continue the struggle. "injunction or no injunction, it is you," said general de la rey to the delegates, "who must decide, and you will have to decide, not for your own village or for your own district, but for the whole country." the inevitable, the hard inexorable, stared the meeting in the face. it was simply impossible any longer to struggle against the stream. it was evident that although, from a military point of view, we had not been conquered, yet the war could not, for the sake of the people, be carried on any longer. the boers had held out as long as they could; nay, months and months longer than they really could, and now--the bitter end had come! but how should we surrender? unconditionally? that was what the warrior would wish. he would have wished to receive no favour from the enemy; he would have wished to listen to no terms from his adversary. he would have wished to say to his enemy, "i can do no more; there is my sword! do with me now what you will!" but this could not be. there were the people! what would become of the people if their leaders, in order to gratify their own military sentiment, surrendered unconditionally? "no!" said the leaders of the people, "we cannot do this." here it was that i learned to respect general l. botha, and with him other generals, more than ever before. they sacrificed themselves, at the last moment, once more for the people. repeatedly at the meeting at vereeniging, and previously at klerksdorp, the interests of the people had been referred to, especially by general botha. repeatedly, too, the colonists who had fought along with us had been mentioned, and it had been shown that if we accepted the terms of the english, then the people would retain possession of their personal liberty, and would eventually obtain self-government; and the colonists, although deprived of the franchise, would remain free. for the sake, therefore, of the people, the chiefs sacrificed their military pride; and in order to be able to provide for their kith and kin, and to be able to some extent to heal their wounds, they said, "we shall not surrender unconditionally; we shall advise the delegates to adopt the proposal of the enemy." now there were a considerable number of delegates that still desired to continue the war. they were principally free staters, but there were also transvaalers who were unwilling to give up the struggle, just as there were also some from the free state who could no longer persist. the disposition of these was, at all events, to persist until the discussions were closed, and if it then became evident that there were so many who voted against the continuance of the struggle that it would be impossible for them to carry on the war alone, then to say, "you who are for yielding force us also to surrender. we are driven to it." thus, they thought, the whole world would see who the men were who, at the last gathering of the africander nation, had endured unto the end. to the views of these delegates expression was given on saturday morning, the st of may, by a resolution proposed by general nieuwoudt, seconded by general brand. that resolution proposed that the terms of the english should be rejected. another proposal was drawn up by general smuts, and laid before the meeting by mr. r. r. viljoen and general h. a. alberts. this draft proposed that the meeting should authorise the governments to adopt the proposal of the british government, and fully set forth what the reasons were that forced the delegates to do so. there now lay the two proposals. would the delegates be divided? would they part from each other in anger? would they for all future time look back upon this, the greatest moment in the history of south africa, with bitter reproaches against each other? but something great occurred. was it not god's guidance to keep the people united to the last moment? it was this: those who wished to continue the war, instead of striving after the honour of being renowned as the steadfast ones who had only been forced by the surrender of others to surrender also, ranged themselves by the side of those who could no longer continue the contest, feeling that as they had fought and suffered together, they should also fall together. it happened in this way. general botha and general de la rey went to general de wet early on the morning of the st of may, and pointed out to him that it had after all now become plain that they could not go on with the struggle. why should there still be division amongst them? they asked. if they had been united in the struggle until now, then surely it would be wrong to be divided at the last? general de wet saw that this was so, and agreed with the other two generals to meet his burghers separately, whilst the other two would speak to their burghers apart, with the object of arriving at unanimity. at the meeting general de wet suggested that in order to avoid division a commission should be appointed to draw up a third proposal that would be acceptable to both parties; and that whilst the commission was busy at this work the free state and transvaal delegates should consult separately, with the object of arriving at a unanimous conclusion. the meeting approved of this, and appointed general smuts and judge hertzog to carry out the resolution. then the free staters went to the tent of general de wet, while the transvaalers remained in the tent of assembly. i went along with the free staters. never shall i forget what i witnessed there. general de wet showed that there was no chance any longer of continuing the struggle, and said that they ought not to be divided, but if possible unanimously vote for one resolution. i see him yet, that unyielding man, with his piercing eyes, his strong mouth and chin--i see him there still, like a lion fallen into a snare. he will not, he cannot, but he must give up the struggle! i still see the stern faces of the officers who up to that moment had been so unbending. i see them staring as if into empty space. i see engraved upon their faces something indescribable, that seemed to ask: is this the bitter end of our sufferings and our sorrows, of our faith and of our strong crying to god? general de la rey had on the previous day exclaimed in the meeting, "you speak of faith. what is faith?... lord, thy will, and not mine, be done! i eliminate myself under god's will!" then those strong men who had led the people until that moment felt what those words implied! how great was their emotion! i saw the lips quiver of men who had never trembled before a foe. i saw tears brimming in eyes that had been dry when they had seen their dearest laid in the grave.... the men agreed to remain united! they again assembled in the tent. the draft of general smuts, amended by him and judge hertzog, was read by the latter, and ran as follows:-- "this meeting of representatives of the people of the s.a.r. and o.f.s., held at vereeniging from the th may to the st of may , has learnt with regret of the proposal made by his majesty's government in regard to the cessation of existing hostilities and of the intimation that this proposal must be accepted or rejected in an unaltered form. "the meeting regrets that his majesty's government has absolutely refused to negotiate with the governments of the republics upon the bases of our independence, or to permit our governments to enter into communication with our deputation. "our peoples have indeed always thought that not only on the ground of right, but also on the ground of the great material and personal sacrifices that they have made for their independence, they have a just claim to such independence. "this meeting has earnestly taken into consideration the condition of land and people, and has more especially taken into account the following facts: " . that the military tactics pursued by the british military authorities has led to the entire ruin of the territory of both the republics, with burning of farms and towns, destruction of all means of subsistence, and exhaustion of all sources necessary for the support of our families, for the maintenance of our forces in the field, and for the continuation of the war. " . that the placing of our captured families in the concentration camps has led to an unprecedented condition of suffering and disease, so that within a comparatively short time about , of those dear to us have perished there, and the horrible prospect has arisen that by continuing of the war our entire race might be exterminated. " . that the kaffir tribes within and without the borders of the territories of both republics are almost all armed and take part in the struggle against us, and by perpetrating murders and committing all kinds of horrors, an impossible state of affairs has been brought about in many districts of both republics, an instance of which took place lately in the district vrijheid, where fifty-six burghers were murdered and mutilated in a shocking manner at the same time. " . that by proclamations of the enemy, which he has already carried into effect, the burghers still in the field are threatened with loss of all the movable and immovable property, and so with total ruin. " . that through the circumstances of the war it has already long ago become impossible for us to retain the many thousands of prisoners-of-war taken by our forces, and that we thus could do but comparatively little damage to the british troops, whilst our burghers captured by the british are sent abroad; and that after the war has raged for nearly three years there remains only a small portion of the forces with which we entered into the war. " . that this remnant still in the field, which forms but a small minority of our entire people, has to contend against overwhelming odds, and moreover has reached a condition virtually amounting to famine and want of the necessary means of subsistence--and that notwithstanding our utmost endeavours and the sacrifice of all that we value and hold dear, we cannot reasonably expect a successful issue: "this meeting is therefore of opinion that there is no reasonable ground for thinking that by continuance of the war our people will retain the possession of its independence, and considers that under the circumstances the people is not justified in carrying on the war any longer, as that can alone tend to bring about the social and material destruction not only of ourselves but also of our descendants. "urged by the above-mentioned circumstances and motives, this meeting authorises both governments to accept the proposal of his majesty's government, and on behalf of the people of both republics to sign the same. "this meeting of delegates expresses the confident hope that the conditions which have now been called into being by adopting the proposal of his majesty's government may soon be ameliorated in such a way that our nation may thereby attain the enjoyment of those privileges to which it considers that not only on account of its past, but also on the ground of its sacrifices in the course of this war, it can justly lay claim. "this meeting has noted with satisfaction the resolution of his majesty's government to grant a large measure of amnesty to those british subjects who took up arms on our side, and to whom we are bound by the ties of blood and honour, and expresses the hope that it may please his majesty to extend this amnesty still further." with fifty-four against six votes the meeting adopted this proposal. clearly and fearlessly there were reasons set forth in this resolution why the representatives of the people felt themselves obliged to give up the long struggle. for a year past it had been impossible to continue, and yet the africander people had with wonderful endurance continued to stand firm. not easily had they been induced to see that the struggle was a hopeless one, and when at last they were compelled by the overwhelming force of circumstances to give up the contest, they did not sink down paralysed to the earth, as if they no longer retained any self-respect; but they made themselves felt for the last time, by a resolution which will take rank in history as one of the great manifestos, which will be valued according to its true worth by future generations, better than we can value it to-day. the boers had sacrificed everything. they had seen their houses given as a prey to the flames. they had seen their property destroyed. they had seen their cattle driven away in large numbers, and their sheep done to death in heaps of tens of thousands. they had shed their blood like water. everything, everything, they had offered up for freedom and independence. nay, more than this had they laid on the altar. they saw that for the great cause their mothers, their wives, their daughters, their sisters, had suffered hunger, had been carried away, had died by thousands in the camps, that they had been ill-treated, insulted and slandered, and violated ... they had drunk of the cup to its last bitter dregs. could they do more? it was already too much. they had made the greatest sacrifice that could be demanded, and they had made it in a materialistic age, in which gold exercises a tyrannic influence, and much that is noble is trodden down under its remorseless heel. in these times, when many believe no more in such a thing as a pure love for liberty, a love that can lead a man to the performance of sublime deeds; in these times, when men contemn the ideal, and speak with pity of noble aspirations, as being illusions or puerilities;--in these times, a drama had been acted before the eyes of the whole world by a people that could still sacrifice all for a great and holy ideal. still in these times of unbelief there had been seen the heads of two states openly calling upon the name of god, and the world had seen a nation that could carry on war believing in god. and had these ideals now been rudely dragged through the mud by the bitter result? had the faith of the people been in vain? had that people appealed to god, and had he declared himself against them? let no man say this! god has formed the africander nation in this great struggle. it has not been exterminated; its language has not been destroyed. the might of the enemy has overwhelmed it, has gone over it like a mighty wave, but africander sentiment still exists. no weapon can bend that will, no violence can suppress that spirit! the africander nation remains an indestructible element in the british empire. let no man say that god has not heard the prayer of the africander nation. many have not been able to understand the will of god, and have been overthrown by the insulting question, "where is now your god?" but i say again, let no man assert that god has not heard the prayer of the africander people. he who has eyes to see can see that the africander race has been more firmly welded together by the glowing heat of this struggle, and our people will be held together chiefly by those who passed through the greatest heat of the fire--our mothers. for it was they who suffered most; it was they who made the greatest sacrifices. words fail me when i endeavour to speak of the women and of what they had to endure. i have found them in their burnt-down dwellings, in stables, and in waggon-houses. i have endeavoured to speak words of encouragement and consolation to them when i met them in the veld, fleeing before the enemy. i have seen them almost unrecognisable, tanned by sun and wind, and seen how thinly they were often clad. i have sat with them at their meals, in the burnt houses or on the ground in the veld, and when i thought of their scanty food it was as if the morsel in my mouth had grown too large, and i could not swallow it. and never did i hear them complain. they were ever ready to bear every burden, to make every sacrifice, if only the independence of the people were not lost. it is they who will hold our people together. it is because we have such mothers that we look into the future with courage, and feel that, although we now are under the british empire, and as subjects of that empire will bear ourselves peaceably, yet our own nationality will ever be something great and sacred to us. and we shall always consider it the greatest honour still to be known as africanders. thus god has heard our prayer. chapter vi exit "here we stand at the grave of the two republics," said acting president burger when the resolution had been taken by the meeting. there was a great silence while he spoke. "for us," he continued, "there remains much to be done, and we must devote ourselves to it. although we can no longer do so in the official capacities we have heretofore held, let us not draw back our hands from doing what is our duty. let us pray god to lead us, and to show us how we can keep our people together. of the unfaithful ones also we must be mindful. we may not cast out that portion of our people; let us learn to forgive and to forget." * * * * * that evening, shortly before eleven o'clock, both the governments were back at pretoria. with the utmost haste they were conducted to the house of lord kitchener. for a few moments they were left alone, because they wished once more to hear the resolution of the delegates read, and assure themselves that it was correct. when this had been done lord kitchener and lord milner entered. the two representatives of the british government sat at the head of the table, alongside each other, at the south side of the hall. next to lord milner, on his left hand, sat acting president s. w. burger, and next followed, on that side of the table, state-secretary f. w. reitz, general l. botha, general j. h. de la rey, mr. krogh, and general l. j. meyer. next to lord kitchener, on his right hand, sat acting president c. r. de wet, general c. h. olivier, judge j. b. m. hertzog, and acting government secretary w. j. c. brebner. the contract had been written in quadruple on parchment by a typewriter. one copy was intended for the king of england, one for lord kitchener, one to be preserved in the archives of pretoria, and one in that of bloemfontein. everything was as silent as death when acting president burger took the pen in his hand. i looked at my watch; it was five minutes past eleven on the st day of may in the year nineteen hundred and two. president burger signed. after him the other members of the government of the south african republic; then acting president de wet, and after him the other members of the free state government. lord kitchener followed, and lord milner signed the last of all. president steyn was not there. our hearts bled at the thought that he had been seized by a dangerous malady; and yet it seemed to me as if i owed some obligation at that moment to that malady, since it was owing to it that the president of the orange free state was prevented from doing what would have caused him the greatest pain in the world. he had said once, "to set my hand to a paper to sign away the independence of my people--that i shall never do." sad circumstances, which he might then almost have called fortunate, had brought it about that he _could_ not do what he _would_ not do. the document was signed! all were silent in that room where so much had been spoken. for a few moments longer they sat still. then the members of the republics, which had now ceased to be, rose up as if dazed, to retire from the hall. lord kitchener passed from one to the other, and shook hands with all. "we are good friends now!" he said. did this give him satisfaction? did no dart of pain, no pang of sorrow, pass through his heart at the thought that he had taken a great share in the extinction of a free people? but he spoke as a soldier should to a brave enemy who had been forced to give up his sword; and the members of the governments strove to take what he said in the spirit in which it was spoken. but their hearts were broken. then they left the hall. epilogue do i feel any remorse, now that all is over, because i struggled on to the end? is there any feeling of regret in me, when i look back, that i persisted even when i sometimes thought that there was no hope--when, as at nauwpoort in the dark last days of july , and several times after, i thought that all was lost? no, nothing troubles me. on the contrary, whilst i am writing this i am experiencing an indescribable feeling of satisfaction--something that tells me, you have--very inefficiently, it is true--but yet you have endeavoured to do your duty. i constantly felt that as long as my government stood it was not for me to ask _why_ or _wherefore_-- "their's not to reason why, their's but to do and die." moreover, i deemed it a sacred privilege to be, in my capacity as a minister of god's word, with my people in the time of their greatest trouble; to bind up the broken-hearted, to encourage the despondent, to comfort the suffering--especially the much-suffering women, our heroines--to bring the word of god to them who would otherwise have been deprived of it, and to point the dying to the cross. i heard from time to time that my work had not been without blessing, and it was always a source of joy and gratitude to me to know that there were other brothers in christ who were also in the field; while it pained me to know that others had been prevented by unavoidable circumstances from labouring with the small band in the field. once more, there is no sense of regret in my mind. i thank god that he enabled me to remain on commando until the end; and with regard to the charge flung at the heads of the leaders, that instead of leading they had misled the people, i can say this, that never, not even in the darkest hours, could i know what might happen, nor what god had destined for our people--and this, too, was always clear to me, that if every cause had been abandoned when it was apparently hopeless, then some of the most glorious victories that the world has seen would never have been won. with the deepest gratitude to god for his protection in the many dangers of the war, i now lay down my pen. printed by morrison and gibb limited