Besides the everlasting worry of keeping the English community in
hand, the Boers have been visited by other plagues, such as
rinderpest. In 1897 such a calamity befell them, and although the rich
farmers did not suffer materially, the poorer class experienced
reverses sufficient to discourage them for life. The mistake made was
simply this (and it is characteristic of the Boers): every individual
farmer and owner of stock exercised his own judgment throughout, and
the most drastic results followed as a consequence. Temporary
excitement naturally took the place of clear judgment. A man may be
possessed of all his faculties and yet lack that knowledge which would
save 95 per cent. of his cattle. The desire to save the cattle was
there, but the farmers were too prone to accept the first method
which turned up. Without even considering thoroughly the merits and
demerits of any particular method, they rushed at it with the same
prospect of success as might be attributed to a blind man going in
search of the North Pole. Of course the system would 'either kill or
cure.' That was how the majority of them put it. The veterinary
surgeons received very little encouragement. If a Boer makes up his
mind that his cattle are going to die, he likes to have all the honour
of killing them himself, and he does not want any vet. about his
place, propounding advanced theories which he does not understand.
Added to this, it appears that when the disease first made its
appearance in the country, certain vets, made themselves so ridiculous
in the eyes of the farmers who invited them to inspect sick cattle,
that distrust immediately took the place of suspicion, and confidence
was never established.
[Illustration: BOER CATTLE FARM NEAR MAJUBA.]
The farmers who managed to save a considerable number of cattle were
not slow to make hay while the sun shone, and some of them may
probably have turned up their noses at the mere mention of the Yukon
goldfields. Prospecting for gold is a somewhat risky business, but the
Boer looks upon transactions in salted oxen as eminently satisfactory,
more especially where the buyer negotiates the risks. Nothing affords
him more pleasure than to hand over twenty or thirty oxen, and receive
in exchange twenty-five pounds per head. But, unlike the English
problem, rinderpest is not always with the Boer.
In this connection there is a story to the effect that a certain Boer
farmer discovered one day that his cattle had contracted a very
serious disease, and he was advised by the Government vet., who
happened to be passing that way, to inoculate immediately, and after
the lapse of ten days to repeat the process. When the vet. returned a
few weeks later he was surprised to learn that the majority of the
cattle had died.
'But that was impossible if you acted on the instructions I gave
you,' he said to the farmer.
'Ja!' answered the latter, 'that may be, but I didn't do what you told
me; I only inoculated once.'
'And why didn't you do it a second time?' pursued the vet.
'Oh,' replied the Boer, 'because the vrouw said I hadn't to.'
[Illustration: SHOOTING RINDERPEST OXEN.]
The Boer seldom does anything without first consulting his wife, and it
is hinted that the wives made a very bad job of the rinderpest. The
vrouw steers the ship. It is so when the whole family goes to town to
make the half-yearly purchases. In the stores the husband will be found
in deep and earnest conversation with his better half, relative perhaps
to the quantity of barbed wire or coffee or woolpacks--anything and
everything required at the time. All this would seem to point to a
plain fact, namely, that the vrouw not only excels in physical
proportions, but also in the matter of brains. There can be no doubt
about the first mentioned, and there seems to be little question about
the other as well. It is authoritatively stated that at the time of the
Boer War the women were so bitter against the English that they spurred
on the men to do things which they themselves deemed foolhardy. This
anti-English feeling seems to have been intensified since then, and it
is often jocularly remarked by Englishmen in the country that so long
as an enemy makes things square with the womenfolk they need have no
fear of the men. The women may have the reputation of knowing and doing
more than the men, but they are certainly not thrifty. They are kind to
travellers (provided they come on horseback and not on foot); but their
kindness is too often spoiled by the dirt and general undesirability of
the atmosphere within their dwellings. A traveller can appreciate a cup
of coffee after a long ride; but he likes to have it in a clean dish,
and it rather damps his ardour when he finds that he is expected to
take the mud along with it.
[Illustration: WAGGON ON PONTOON OVER RIVER.]
In this connection there is still another story. This story is related
by a commercial traveller, and in order to establish its
authenticity it is only necessary to remark that it has been related
by at least six different commercial travellers, and in every case the
incident has occurred within the experience of each and all.
The commercial gentleman (no matter which one) having been overtaken
on the road by a severe thunderstorm, and arriving at a spruit which
he found he could not then cross with safety, put back to a small
farmhouse near by. After much parley on both sides, the Boer who owned
the place agreed to give the traveller and his driver shelter for the
night, provided they would sleep in an outhouse, where the horses
could also be put up. Being only too glad to obtain shelter of any
sort, the traveller readily accepted the offer. At this point each
traveller who has told the story breaks into a graphic description of
how he passed the night, and how many rats he and the driver killed,
and how much of his clothes they devoured, and how he couldn't sleep
because of the presence of pigs and fowls in addition, which seemed
to resent the invasion. Then comes the dawn of another day, and, which
is more important (before its appearance), breakfast. A cloth was
spread on a box in the mud-floor dwelling, and eggs and coffee placed
thereon. The commercial was evidently expected to eat the eggs anyhow,
so long as he did eat them; for there was nothing visible in the shape
of a spoon. The Boer and his vrouw did not put in an appearance at
breakfast, no doubt disdaining to look upon an Englishman any more
than was absolutely necessary. He had almost concluded this rude and
somewhat unsatisfactory meal when the vrouw entered. She was fat and
dirty, and her clothing had apparently been renewed from time
immemorial by much mending. She now rested her great hands on her
hips, and calmly surveyed the English party and the breakfast-table
for a few seconds. Then she spoke, in Dutch; but he understood--too
well:
'Have you finished?'
'Yes,' he replied in the 'lands taal'; 'but surely you are in a very
great hurry. I will pay you well for the food and shelter.'
'That's nothing,' continued the vrouw in a business-like tone; 'I only
want the tablecloth so that I can get the bed made.'