Wednesday, October 10th.
"When scouting and you must not tarry,
Of things you can borrow or beg,
The best, but the worst you can carry,
Is the excellent, succulent _egg_."
_Extract from contemplated "Loot Lyrics."_
To-day we have returned to Commando Nek, at least within a mile or so of
it. (A cart has just come in from Rietfontein, and they say there are
four bags of mails for the Composites, so we poor Sussex de'ils ought to
have a look in.) We were advance party to-day, and a friend and I had
the good luck to get a fine lot of eggs, of which I have not had any for
a long time. As you may imagine, eggs are not very easily carried by the
uninitiated, especially when he happens to be a horseman. The first time
I managed to get some I got a couple from a farm down the next valley,
and was debating how I should carry them, when the officer of our troop,
who was just ahead, turned round and sternly told me to mount and get
forward, and as he stopped for me to do so, I was rather awkwardly
situated, my rifle being in one hand and the two eggs in the other.
However, I seized the reins somehow or other, and did the great egg
trick successfully. Missing other feats in which I have never once
broken or cracked even one, to-day I eclipsed all previous
accomplishments, inasmuch as I carried in the only two tunic pockets I
have without holes, THREE DOZEN EGGS loose, and despite having to
dismount and mount twice, brought them into camp without breaking or
cracking one. Once or twice, when we had to do a trot, our
sergeant-major asked why I was riding so curiously, and I told him I was
feeling rather queer, but thought it would wear off when I reached
camp--it did. A friend and I got these eggs in rather an amusing manner.
We spotted a Kaffir village and riding to it, enquired at every kraal
for eggs, "Eggs for the general--for Lord Roberts!" but, alas, they had
none, "I'kona," signifying the negative. One enterprising youth,
however, called to me as I was riding off and brought me four, for which
I paid him sixpence. Then once again as we were going away, he called to
us--evidently the pay, pay, pay of the absent-minded foreign devil has
touched his savage heart--for lo and behold his neighbours had some for
sale, and came forward with a dozen in a tin, then their neighbours came
to the front with about a score, and yet another lot appeared with
more--in all, we got fifty eggs, of which I pocketed three dozen, and
carried the remainder in a handkerchief and surrendered them to our
major, saying I had got them for him (he was in want of some), and thus
appeased him. Had I carried them all in my _mouchoir_ I might have lost
the lot, but we simple Yeomen "know a thing or three," as the ancient
ballad goes.
We have just drawn rations for fourteen days and been joined by some
more M.I., so it looks as if
"Troops may come and troops may go,
But we go on for ever."
"Go hon!" seems to be our call and counter cry.
COMMANDO NEK, _Friday, October 12th, 1900_.
_Excerpt from proposed Christmas Panto._
Place--The Transvaal. Period--Victorian.
_Officers' Tent._