Tuesday, September 25th. Yesterday we moved out to meet and escort
Ridley in with the convoy from Pretoria. About a couple of miles out we
heard guns, and I thought probably we should have a bit of scrapping,
but we did not beyond some half-hearted sniping. To my surprise and
delight Ridley brought mails, my portion being eleven letters. Some had
the home post mark of May 25th, and the others August 7th. I must leave
off for a space here, as I have to carve an epitaph for the poor fellow
who died a few days ago. You see one's occupations out here are many and
varied.
(_Resumed._)
Yesterday evening the orderly sergeant came down to my wigwam, and asked
for my regimental number, which I gave him without asking the reason
why. Soon he returned and congratulated me, saying I had been promoted
to full corporal over poor Stanley's affair. My many comrades also have
warmly congratulated me on my return to my former state, or rather above
it, for it is a case of wearing two stripes now.
Wednesday, September 26th. On this day we advanced. Our column did not
come in for the usual amount of attention from our friend the enemy, the
reason being that a gentleman friend of ours, General Broadwood, was
pounding away at them from one side, and Ridley from another. All the
same we had a very busy day, scouting and occupying kopjes. Our guns
fired at some Boer waggons, causing their escort to clear, and leave
them for us. Our infantry got them and had a good time. They are fine
fellows, are our infantry, and deserve all they can get in the loot
line. Late in the afternoon we surrounded a suspicious-looking kloof,
full of thick undergrowth, and captured a couple of the peaceful
peasants of the Arcadian dorp (fontein, kloof or spruit) we were then
occupying. A man in quest of loot found them, to his great surprise.
They were of the _genus snipa_. One had an elephant gun and the other a
Martini. We had had _reveille_ at 2.30, and breakfast a little later.
From then till about six in the evening I had only a few bits of
biscuit, and once a drop of water, but felt none the worse for my little
fast.
Thursday, September 27th. We got us up at 3.30. On going to saddle up I
found that my horse was gone. However, after a careful search, I found
him, though he had changed colour and size. When in the Yeomanry, do as
the Yeomen do. So having got a mount I was soon on parade. We then
ascended a big kopje and were placed at various observation posts till
such time as the convoy should move off. On the top of this kopje were
numerous tree-locusts, these are far more swagger in appearance than
their khaki-clad brethren, being green and yellow, with a crimson and
purple lining to their wings; but their whole appearance is so
artificial, that my first impression on seeing one was that it had flown
out of a Liberty Shop. From the various uncomplimentary remarks one
hears passed on the locust, I imagine the name must be derived from the
expression "low cuss." At 3.30 the tail of the beastly but necessary
convoy had succeeded in negotiating the usual non-progressive drift, and
we left our kopje to form its rear guard. My horse and I went a lovely
howler soon after starting--my first spill. I got up feeling all the
better for the experience, and soon had another. In this my rifle got
broken.
Friday, September 28th. We arrived at Olifant's Nek with the convoy at
3.30 a.m. a bit tired, found lukewarmed-up tea, bully and biscuits
awaiting us, and then turned in, and just and unjust slumbered soundly
till a late _reveille_, 6 o'clock, bundled us out to feed our horses. My
latest acquisition I found had vamoosed or been vamoosed. In searching
for it, I found my old one. Then, having foraged around at our waggon
and secured a Lee-Metford, I was once again fully equipped. At about 10,
we advanced through the bush veldt as far as our present camping ground,
which is called Doornlaagte, I believe.
Saturday, September 29th. As we are resting here to-day I will continue
my diary-like letter.
(_Resumed._)
My fell intentions of writing this morning were knocked on the head, as
we had to go out on a patrol. Our latest _roles_ being that of
resurrectionists, or grave desecrators. The reason was that certain
tombs had been regarded with grave suspicion (I beg your pardon) our
"intelligence" people imagining them to contain buried arms, ammunition,
or treasure. However, on our arrival at the spot, a close inspection
made it evident that they were _bona-fide_ affairs, not Mauser-leums,
and by no means new as reported, so we left the rude forefathers of the
hamlet undisturbed.
Sunday, September 30th. We have just marched back from Doornlaagte
through Olifant's Nek, and are camped here, a mile beyond. To-day is a
regular Sunday-at-Home day. It has been quite a record day, especially
for a Sabbath, for we have not heard a single Mauser go off.
Monday, October 1st. Another month! Actually a year ago this month the
war commenced, and there are still corners on the slate unwiped, and we,
the poor wipers, are industriously wiping, and certainly cannot complain
of a lack of rags. We moved out from the Nek through Krondaal and camped
at Sterkstrom. Amongst the latest reports, false and true, we heard in
the evening that the C.I.V.'s were off--homeward bound.
Tuesday, October 2nd. The previous night we heard that the camp would
not be shifted, nor was it. But we, of the Yeomanry, were. At 3.30,
therefore, we had to arise and go out with the guns to co-operate with
Ridley and Broadwood. After manoeuvring about, we were finally posted on
what at first appeared a kopje of no importance (in height and
composition), but kopjes were deceivers ever, and when we had got
half-way up, those that had sufficient breath and energy left to express
their opinions on kopjes in general, and this one in particular, did so.
However, once up aloft, we were left undisturbed for the remainder of
the day. On return to camp we found our missing sergeant (of September
16th, at Hekpoort). He had been a prisoner in Rustenburg and had got his
liberty when Broadwood occupied or rather re-occupied the town. Whenever
we go out one way the Boers come in the other, and _vice versa_. Though
we had not played an active part in the day's operations, the others
had, and the outing was rather a success, Ridley's men capturing
fourteen waggons with ammunition and other stuff and a few prisoners.
Thursday, October 4th. Once again our fond hopes of a day's loaf were
crushed, for it was "up in the morning early," and hie for Bethanie.
This little native town we reached and surrounded, and then destroyed a
mill. On the way there we came on a recently-deserted waggon (a pot of
coffee was boiling over a small fire). This and its contents we
destroyed; and back, which was by a different road, we came upon and
destroyed four or five waggons by burning them.
* * * * *
The effect of Army, or rather Yeomanry life, its fatigues and worries,
big and small, on men hitherto unaccustomed to such things, has been
marvellous, and productive of a topsy-turvy dom of character, after Mr.
W. S. Gilbert's own heart. To commence with, it is curious to note that
in many cases men who claim to have roughed it in various parts of the
world have been amongst the worst to stand the roughing here, and while
weak-looking striplings have developed into fine hardy men; brawny,
massive-looking fellows have shrunk to thin and useless beings. As
regards character, after about four to six months out here one seems to
see his fellows in all the nakedness of truth. I have seen the genial
man turn irritable, the generous man mean, the good-tempered man
quarrelsome, the smart and particular man slovenly, the witty man dull,
the bow-and-arrow ideal (looking) _sabreur_ anything but dashing in
action, the old-womanly man indifferent to danger, and the objectionable
man the best of comrades. These and other changes have I noted, and
often fearfully thought how have I changed, how has it affected me, but
"There is no grace the giftie to gie me,
To see mysel' as ithers see me."
and perhaps it is as well.