good-looking native attracted his attention by raising his battered
hat and murmuring "kos." The man, a magnificent specimen of the Basuto
savage, was quivering with emotion, and he pointed to a great
grey-white weal which showed across his neck and open breast.
_Intelligence Officer._ "Sjambok?"
_Basuto._ "Yah, Boss!"
_I. O._ "How did you come by this?"
The native, who was of more than average intelligence, then told the
following astounding story. He was one of the five native scouts
employed by the new Intelligence guide. The morning that the New
Cavalry Brigade had left Orange River Station, he had been sent
forward by our friend with a letter to Commandant Botmann, and,
finding that he was not at Luckhoff, the Basuto had warned the acting
landrost[40] there of the approach of the British, and had then ridden
on to Philippolis, and was there when De Wet and Steyn arrived; and in
the truly expressive language of the native he told of their dejection
and the dispiriting nature of the speech which the ex-President had
made to the assembled burghers. He also furnished the valuable
information that De Wet had issued instructions that all stray
burghers and Brand's, Wessel's, Akermann's, and Kolbe's commandos
should concentrate with him at Petrusberg, whither he was proceeding
on the following day with his personal bodyguard under Theron. As the
brigadier had anticipated, De Wet was halting a day to allow his
stragglers to concentrate. In all he would have about 300 men and
forty Cape carts. But at Petrusberg they would concentrate to about
1200 or 1500. The Basuto had ridden through from Philippolis that
night, and had arrived back at Luckhoff only half an hour ago. The
blow which was responsible for this disclosure of his master's perfidy
and the Boer plans was by reason of a favourite horse. In order to
ensure the safe delivery of his message, and not dreaming that it
would go all the way to Philippolis, the Intelligence guide had
mounted the Basuto on his best horse. This best horse had caught the
eye of a Winburg burgher in Philippolis, and he had relieved the
Basuto of it, leaving him to make his way back upon some scarecrow.
_Hinc illæ lacrymæ_.
The Intelligence officer smoothed over the Basuto's ill-will with
fair-mouthed promises, and led him to understand that if he went back
to his master and suffered in silence for a short period longer he
would be handsomely rewarded. But, said the dignified savage, "he bad
man--always bad man, telling d----d Dutchmens always. Boss give me
gun, no more telling Dutchmens!" The Intelligence officer pacified the
man by promises of an execution in the near future, and then went to
the brigadier with the information and an earnest conspiracy against
the guide's life. However, the evidence was not conclusive enough for
the brigadier. "What proof have you that it is not all a plant on the
part of your friend, Mr Intelligence? Besides, I would never hang a
white man on the evidence of a black. I am bad at the 'black-cap'
game, but I'll tell you what I will do. I don't want any more of this
guide; tell him that we are going to Kimberley, and that he can go
back to Orange River at once; write a letter to the De Aar
Intelligence coves, and tell them we are bound for Kimberley, seal it
heavily with sealing-wax, and then, if your 'pal' is the bandit you
represent him to be, he will read it and send it to De Wet to-night.
If he is not a knave he will deliver it some time to-morrow night,
when we shall be out of the ken of the De Aar folk, and the lie won't
matter." And so it was arranged....
It has been pointed out earlier in this narrative how often De Wet has
owed his freedom, and incidentally his life, to the leaning of the law
of chances in his favour. Times without number a sequence of
extraordinary circumstances has conspired to defeat the best-laid
plans which have been made to enmesh him. It is not intended to deny
that the man was possessed of a peculiar genius which constantly of
itself freed him from the dangers to which he was exposed. But beyond
this there were instances, not so rare as the world would believe,
when his genius failed him, and it was upon these occasions that
Providence stepped in and furnished a balance against which it was
impossible for human endeavour to prevail. It will never be maintained
that in the present case the brigadier had divined an infallible
scheme. But, as will be seen, the operation of circumstances so
dovetailed with the brigadier's appreciation of the situation, that
though no certain opportunity was foreseen of seizing the arch
guerilla in his bed, yet there was every promise that he would be
forced to play a hand with the cards against him,--a circumstance
which no Boer--not even De Wet--liked or understood. One such a chance
had presented itself before, when a senior influence intervened and
kept the New Cavalry Brigade from falling upon Strydenburg. In the
present case the intervention was to be made by the elements, and even
then the energy and wit of the capable soldier who was in command
brought the brigade within an ace of a success which would have made
all concerned famous in the history of this war.
At four o'clock the advance-guard opened out on the plain north of
Luckhoff, and drew the fire of the observation post on the hills
through which the trail to Koffyfontein passes. There would have been
no necessity to caution the advance-guard to slowness; and the main
body just sauntered on, while commanding officers were asking
themselves whether the brigadier was mad or inebriate to plunge into a
night march of this character when his object was only to get to
Kimberley. The good ladies of Luckhoff watched the last of the
transport disappear over the nek into the darkness of gathering night,
and then sent their eight-year-old sons or Kaffirs to recall such of
their men-folk as lay hid in the neighbouring _caches_, while the
observation post sent a galloper to the next point, that the news
might be patented that the column had taken the Kimberley road. By
sundown the head of the column had made about six miles, and a halt
was called to allow the baggage to close up. As soon as it was
sufficiently dark the change in direction was made, and the head of
the column left the road and plunged into the trackless veldt, it
being estimated that a compass bearing due east would bring it by
daybreak within easy reach of the parallelogram of hills in which
Fauresmith and Jagersfontein lie. But the favour of Providence was
withdrawn: the night, which had been born in suffocating heat,
suddenly changed to piercing cold, and great zigzags of white
lightning, clutching at the heavens like the claws of some gigantic
dragon, heralded a tempest of unwonted fury. And presently it came
preceded by a blinding sandstorm, which told how much the burnt
surface of the prairie yearned for moisture. That night it drank its
fill, for when the flood-gates burst asunder a very deluge was loosed
upon the earth. The great storm voided its burden in such rivers of
water that in a moment, in spite of waterproof and oil-skin, every man
in the force was as drenched as if he had plunged into a stream. Nor
was it a passing downfall of temporary duration. It deluged in
unbroken stream for the best part of an hour. Automatically the whole
force came to a standstill: checked, bedraggled, and miserable, it
stood it out. To advance was impossible; each depression in the veldt
was a sheet of water, in places inches deep. The whole crust of the
earth had become a sticky sodden morass, and in this mire the column
lay bogged and helpless. Guns and waggons sank axle-deep, their
drunken alignment proving that for the time being they were immobile.
Horses, mules, and oxen struggled and floundered for a foothold,
sinking with terror-stricken sobs and distressful moans until their
bellies were level with the slush. A hideous scene!
There was nothing that man could do: until such time as the natural
drainage of the plain and the parched substratum absorbed the
superfluous moisture, the brigade was as helpless as a steamer with a
broken screw-shaft. Mercifully for the staff, the catastrophe had
overtaken the brigade within a mile of a fair-sized farm; and
eventually, after much labour in the mire, the brigadier and his
immediate following were able to claim its hospitality. Luckily it was
occupied. A smiling good-natured _frau_, on the stout side of thirty,
with a bevy of girls ranging from two to twelve, was endeavouring to
cope with an inundation of sodden troopers from the advance-guard. It
was a nice farm, and to our astonishment Madam Embonpoint proved to be
an English Africander. Her husband was in St Helena, and since the
outbreak of war she had worked her husband's property single-handed.
Madam was anything but hostile; but she prayed that we would not break
into her slender store of provisions, since she had ten mouths to
feed, and the pinch of war was near at hand. Otherwise we were welcome
to such hospitality as her roof would afford us, and she was prepared
to cook and prepare for us any food we might have with us. It chanced
that the officer of the advance-guard was a captain of the Mount
Nelson Light Horse. He was one of the few in that corps who had
impressed himself favourably upon the brigadier, consequently the
chief did not burst into abusive satire when he discovered this
officer in the act of boiling a turkey in the farm kitchen. Now, in
spite of the wet and disappointment, the brigadier had lost none of
his usual gaiety of nature. It is often the case with the best
soldiers, the more adverse the circumstances the lighter their
spirits.
_Brigadier_ (_commencing to divest himself of his wet clothes in front
of the fire and pointing to the turkey_), "Honestly come by?"
_Captain_ (_closing the lid of the pot with a snap_), "Yes, sir; the
last of our tinned food, sir!"
_B._ "Seen the tin for the first time to-day, I should think. But what
are you going to do with it? You have got to clear your robbers out
of this. This is my booth for the night!"
_C._ "I realised that, sir, and I said to my subaltern that as it was
a cold night we would just open our last tin and offer it to the
general as a sign of affection, arguing that if he accepted it in the
spirit in which it was given, he would ask us both to dinner."
_B._ (_now in his shirt_), "Hearty fellows both. No man born of woman
would like a boiled turkey for dinner more than I should, in spite of
the fact that it was only killed an hour ago by a captain who should
have known better. You are both asked to dinner. Madam, had you not
better withdraw?" (_This to the lady of the house who had just
entered._)
The scene was indeed a strange one. A rough Boer kitchen lit by a
dingy dip. The light of the yellow flame impeded by "truck" suspended
from the rafters--a side of mutton, some _biltong_, strings of onions
and beetroots. In the corner a more or less modern fire-range, in
front of which stood a group of officers, comprising the brigadier,
his staff, and the two officers of the advance-guard, all in various
stages of _déshabille_, some trying to get warm, some to dry their
wringing clothes, and others to stoke the fire and boil a pot. Add to
these the plump hostess and her tribe of all-aged daughters, whom no
exposure of masculine limbs and under-dress seemed to terrify. This
did not look like catching De Wet--but then much may take place
between midnight and daybreak.
A chapter could be filled with the miseries which the troops suffered
that night, and this being the case, it would be ungracious to dilate
upon the sumptuous nature of the feast within the farmhouse. Let it
suffice that during its discussion the brigadier cast over the
situation and was ready, with the coffee which Madam Embonpoint
contributed to the entertainment, with his plan to amend the chaos
which the elements had made of his original undertaking.
_Brigadier_ (_stirring his cup thoughtfully until the hostess was out
of the room_). "Mr Intelligence, what do you make the distance between
this and the pass this side of Fauresmith?"
_Intelligence Officer._ "Three- to five-and-twenty miles, sir."
_B._ "Have you any one who knows the way?"
_I. O._ "Yes, sir, there is a man in the Light Horse who has done some
transport riding in the Southern Free State, who says he knows
something about it."
_B._ "Better and better (_turning to the captain of the
advance-guard_). Now, I am going to put you in the way of a very big
thing. You are senior captain in your corps, are you not?"
_Captain._ "Yes, sir, senior captain, adjutant, and second in command;
we have got no majors!"
_B._ "That is all right then. Well, I want you to start on at once
with two squadrons, and to push on to Fauresmith. I fancy that you
will find it has dried up a bit now, and as these storms are usually
local, it is quite possible that you may strike better going as you
get along. When you get into the hilly country about Fauresmith, go
cunning, try and get as close as you can without being seen, and find
a position from which you can hold the road leading from Fauresmith
to the Riet River. Come over here and look at the map. Now, if you get
off by midnight, you ought to make two miles an hour until daybreak.
That is twelve miles; the remaining ten you will do inside two hours.
If you are sniped, push on; but if opposed in force, do your best,
only let me know. Now, these are my plans (_pointing on the map_). You
see the parallelogram? well, you go slap-bang into it. I shall come
along as fast as I can with the ground in this condition. I shall, if
you come into touch with the enemy in force, send two squadrons and
two guns direct to the bridge over the Riet north of the
parallelogram, and two squadrons and two guns south of the
parallelogram, while I come on with the rest in your direction. Now,
your business is, first, not to let yourself be seen; secondly, so to
arrange yourself that if De Wet and his crowd get to Fauresmith before
we are up, to manoeuvre and keep him there until we arrive. It is a
difficult job, I allow; but I know that you are the man to make the
best of it. Get your men to understand that now they have the
opportunity of making a reputation. The brigade-major will give you
all this in writing. You may pick your squadrons. Now, get along, and
don't waste time!"
While the two squadrons of Mount Nelson Light Horse were picking their
way out of camp that night, and while the rest of the brigade was
turning into its miserable bivouac, the staff "bedded down" in the
drawing-room of the farmhouse. With so large a family of girls, good
Madam Embonpoint could only arrange one spare bedroom, and that was
reserved for the brigadier; but the rest dragged their sopping valises
into the parlour and trusted to get five hours' sleep before a
daylight start....
To add to the chagrin of the brigade, and to further demonstrate the
singular Providence which ever seemed to attend De Wet in his
movements, even unto the eleventh hour, it was found that the force
had bivouacked on the very fringe of the storm. As is so often the
case with these South African storms, the rigour of the downfall was
local, and while the brigade had been so badly caught that it was
practically impossible for the teams to move the guns without the aid
of drag-ropes, half a mile away the surface of the veldt was
unaffected and the going good. This discovery caused the day to dawn
with brighter prospects, and as soon as the sodden column, free of its
transport, felt the sounder bottom, it shook itself as would a
retriever after a swim, and settled down to a swinging drying-trot.
The brigadier had theories on the methods to be employed in the kind
of war-game with which he was confronted; and he determined, if
possible, to be in front of the Boer pickets and observation-posts,
realising that two circumstances were in his favour. The concentration
ordered for Philippolis should have reduced the strength of the Boer
watchmen, and the rain of the preceding night, while rendering
sentinels less inclined for the bitter vigil of early morning, had
laid the tell-tale dust, which, as a rule, is the greatest impediment
to secret movement. He threw out a troop to go very wide on either
flank, in order to serve the double purpose of capturing any shirking
Boer pickets which might chance to be alarmed at the later arrival of
the transport column, and of guarding against De Wet's commando
slipping past across the back trail. As the daylight strengthened, and
showed that the going improved, everything pointed to a successful
ride on the part of the two squadrons which had been pushed forward in
the night. By seven o'clock the men had begun to dry, and as the
object of the hunt leaked out, a general improvement was apparent in
the spirits of the force.
The first information which came in to headquarters, as the whole
force moved rapidly forward, came from the Basuto scout, whom the
Intelligence officer had relieved of his obligations to the
Intelligence guide as soon as the latter had been dismissed. His
information was serious: he reported that a party of twenty-five Boers
had crossed our trail just about eight o'clock, and, travelling fast,
had gone in a north-easterly direction. The brigadier cross-examined
the man closely, and seemed satisfied as to the truth of his story.
_Brigadier_ (_turning to his staff_) "We shall be fairly in it, if we
have any luck, I don't think that these fellows who have passed behind
us are De Wet's actual advance-guard. They are probably a patrol that
he has thrown out to look after his exposed flank. He knows that we
were at Luckhoff, and he would not have moved without telling off some
one to watch us. Now, these people have seen us and passed behind us;
but as we have luckily struck and covered the trail of the advance
squadrons, they don't know that we have a force six hours ahead of us.
Probably they have sent back to De Wet, who will be from one to two
hours'[41] distant from them, to inform him, if he puts a spurt on, he
can be through the Fauresmith passes before us. If only the Mount
Nelsons can hold him, we shall get even with him yet."
By nine o'clock the Fauresmith hills began to loom up above the dead
level of the veldt, and as the trail of the advance squadrons was
still steady and we had no news of them, there was every reason to be
satisfied that they had successfully made their goal. The situation at
least was increasing in interest. A little after ten the column had
reached the foot of the Fauresmith hills, and the brigadier wisely
called a halt, determined not to commit his troops to the hilly tracts
until he had heard something from his advance squadrons.
But the next information regarding the enemy was not destined to come
in from the advance-guard. The column had just off-saddled when a
dishevelled trooper with a blanched face galloped up to the tiny group
of trees beneath which the brigadier and his staff had dismounted.
_Brigadier._ "Hullo, here's a man who has seen his own ghost. We shall
have some news now. Who are you?"
_Trooper._ "Please, sir, I belong to Mr Crauford's patrol--it has been
annihilated!"
_B._ (_soothingly_). "Now dismount, and tell us all about it. What do
you belong to!"
_T._ (_dismounting_). "Mount Nelson Light Horse, sir."
_B._ "I thought so; now let us have the story."
_T._ "Well, sir, there was Mr Crauford, and Sergeant Mullins, and----"
_B._ "Never mind their names. How many men had Mr Crauford with him?"
_T._ "About six, sir; and I am the only one left alive to tell the
tale!"
_B._ "How truly awful! and if you don't get on with it your tale will
outlast all of us as well. (_Roughly_) Now, throw it out,--what
happened?"
_T._ "Well, sir, you see that farm over there (_pointing to low seam
of grey hills about four miles distant on our left flank, at the
bottom of which nestled a homestead_), we were riding up to it
quiet-like, when suddenly, as we were passing a kraal, up jumps about
fifty Boers and calls us to ''ands up.' We wouldn't ''ands up,' and
they shot us down to a man, and----!"
_B._ "Wait--how did you get away from the general battue?"
_T._ "I don't exactly know, sir; I kind of found myself galloping for
all I was worth, and the bullets just 'umming that thick and awful,
that I kept on asking myself the whole way home 'ow it was I managed
to escape!"
_B._ "You may go. Stop! where's your rifle?"
_T._ (_for the first time realising that he had not got a rifle_). "I
must have dropped it, sir, in the scrimmage--it was awful 'ot, sir!"
_B._ (_brutally_). "Off you go; you ought to be ashamed to talk to
honest men. (_Then turning to the brigade-major._) Look here, Baker,
though I don't believe the man's story _in toto_, or would believe any
man who in panic had thrown his rifle away, yet something has
happened, and either our men on the left have fallen in with the party
of Boers who crossed our trail this morning, or we have let slip the
whole 'bag of tricks,' and De Wet is through us. Just you take another
squadron of the Mount Nelsons and see what has happened on the left.
You can also take the pom-pom. Unless the enemy are in strength don't
stay out there long, as I shall probably move on before you are back.
Anyway I shall leave a signal-station on the hill above us!"
_Brigade-Major._ "Very good, sir."
_B._ "Wait a moment. As the rain-storm has dished my original plans, I
shall probably, as soon as I hear from Fauresmith, send half my force
direct to the Kalabas bridge, and take the rest to support the Mount
Nelson squadrons. But I can make no definite statement until I have
some idea of De Wet's force. Gad! I wish I knew where Plumer might be
at this moment, or whether there is any one behind De Wet. Without
information or maps, this is an uphill game!"...
In half an hour the brigade-major's little command was within a
thousand yards of Liebenbergspan farm. Here they met five woe-begone
men tramping wearily towards them. They were Crauford's patrol,
stripped of most of their clothing, and desired by the Boers to make
their way back to their column with all compliments of the season. The
subaltern was very dejected, for he was a boy of the right spirit; and
it is a strain upon one's dignity as an officer to be turned loose on
the veldt with only a flannel shirt as a dress, and a pair of putties
tied round the feet in the place of boots. It was not his fault: he
had sent on a man to reconnoitre the farm. This man was our friend who
had come in in the morning. As he failed to search the kraal, the
Boers had let him past, and had waited for the main body of the
patrol, which they had "held up" at short range. The scout, who had
passed through them, heard the shouts of "Hands up!" and galloping for
dear life, had been able to get clear and pitch the brigadier his
terror-bred fable. Apart from taking their clothes, the Boers had
treated the prisoners well. They were a party of fifteen men, very
poorly clad but well mounted, under a commandant of the name of
Theron. Crauford, who was a young English Africander, had, while a
prisoner, made good use of his time. His captors did not realise that
he understood Dutch, and he had gleaned from their conversation that
they were, as the brigadier had anticipated, part of De Wet's screen.
They were very much upset at the size of the British column, and had
not been prepared for its presence so close to De Wet's line of
advance. But as they discussed it among themselves they considered
that De Wet would be in front of the column, proving that they had no
knowledge of the two squadrons detached during the night. All this was
such valuable information that Baker dismounted a man and sent
Crauford back to the brigadier as fast as he could gallop. He himself
kept on, as Theron's party was still in occupation of the farm.
The farm stood at the foot of a low brae. It was only a rise, and as
the Boers appeared to take no notice of our approach, not even
troubling to efface their presence, the brigade-major determined,
under cover of his pom-pom, to gallop over it. Half a squadron on the
right, half a squadron on the left. He called up the captain
commanding the squadron and gave him his instructions. The man at once
began to make difficulties, and suggested a different mode of attack.