This most inhuman and bloody-minded Kruger, who misquoted Scripture, as
he so often did, considered himself safe to order his victims to their
empty tents. He had stripped them, as he fondly thought, of all means
of protecting their wives and children. As he imagined, they had only
their naked fists to support their manhood against his armed hordes;
therefore he could be as bold as a bushranger who has bailed up a
household. He had them, or, as he impiously remarked, "The Lord of the
Boer hosts has put them into our hands, even as He gave the Amalekites
up to the vengeance of Israel."
To those who were not in the "know," the Jew dealers and other aliens,
who had no patriotic interest in the land, this ultimatum fell like the
first ashes of Vesuvius upon Pompeii. It was definite, clear, and
curtailed. They had either to join in and fight with the Boers, or else
be treated with those who stood for English authority.
There was no equivocation, or holding aloof. Johannesburg, with its
riches, must be abandoned, and at once, i.e. within the next twenty
hours at latest. Those who remained in that city would be forced to
take up arms by the Boers, when the time of grace was over. They were
driven like sheep into the pen, where they were to be slaughtered if
they did not declare themselves enemies of England, and "bind"
themselves to the masters of this Boer rebellion.
Poor, miserable, and terror-stricken wretches--these gold and diamond
traffickers, who had come here only to make money, and who were without
a single molecule of courage in their composition,--they were placed
between two fires, and knew not where to turn for safety. They were
likely to be shot or hanged whatever side they decided to take.
They drove home in their flash traps, or in the saloon cars, with
bloodless, flabby lips and staring eyes. Inside their swell houses they
collapsed, and found the champagne and brandy of no more aid to them
than coloured water.
Their wives, however,--the painted, illiterate, dyed-haired, and
outrageously dressed and be-diamonded ex-shop girls, ex-barmaids, and
ex-variety actresses,--were not going to let the twenty hours pass
before making up their minds what to do. The Boers were at their doors,
and at present bosses of the show. Like Simon, Lord Lovat, they
believed in serving the customer who was in possession.
By six o'clock that night thousands of these mercenaries had signed the
papers of allegiance to the Republic, and left Johannesburg in
detachments, escorted by their masters, while their women were driven
out of the country to become paupers at Durban and Cape Town.
After a frightful and never-to-be-forgotten train journey, our disguised
heroes at last found themselves on British soil, with hearts burning
with rage and hatred at the vile treatment they had received in the
trains.
The rush for trains by that panic-thralled crowd of refugees resembled a
stampede of wild cattle. Delicate women and children struggled
frantically for places with rough, strong men, and were glad to find
themselves packed in open trucks. Order was at an end, and gallantry
rarely displayed by that pushing, shouting, and sweltering crowd, while
the Boer officials only mocked at their despair.
By reason of their personal strength, however, and taking advantage of
their disguises, our heroes managed to secure good places for
themselves; and also to protect a number of ladies, who would otherwise
have fared badly. During the journey, also, the burghers had reason to
regret insulting and trying to frighten these three strapping young
females.
When they reached Cape Colony they learned much more than they had been
aware of before.
Paul Kruger and his burghers were in a better condition for warfare than
had been suspected. The loyal colonists had also been trifled with and
hoodwinked by the Honourable Mr Schreiner and his traitor gang. In
fact, the British forces were so scanty and ill-provided, while on the
enemy's side were so many spies and rebels, that the young men no longer
wondered at the courage of the Transvaal chief.
Already war had been declared, and Cape Colony and Natal invaded in
force. If the rebels had only proper leaders, the English possessions
were in extreme danger.
England also seemed bristling with renegades and pro-Boers, whose
yelpings disturbed the loyal colonists greatly.
But the lion was rousing up for action, and the nation shouted out for
punishment to be meted out to those insolent rebels. From every part of
our mighty Empire came the offer of help to the mother country. The
Boers, by their invasions, had united Englishmen as one people. When
our heroes heard this news, they saw the wisdom of letting the Federals
have the first blow.
They were now going to join the man they adored, and take a hand in the
great coming struggle.
It was November 3rd before our heroes managed to pass the rebel lines
and get into Kimberley. Here they found the town in a state of siege,
but well prepared. Cecil Rhodes was calm and cheerful, with no doubts
as to the results of the war.
He welcomed the adventurers warmly, and heard the account of their
travels with pleasure. The news they brought him also from the outside
gave him great satisfaction.
"There is nothing else to be done now but to make ourselves as
comfortable as possible here, and defend ourselves until we are
relieved. We shall all have enough work to keep us from being dull."
He was right, as our heroes found as the weeks rolled past. General
Cronje and his army kept them in a constant state of attention and
excitement.
Thanks to the personal magnetism of Cecil Rhodes, with his unfailing
serenity and constant exertions to amuse the besieged townspeople, the
first two months, although nerve-trying, were not unpleasant from a
social point of view.
Balls, concerts, and parties filled up the intervals of bombarding and
repelling the enemy. The town had been well provisioned, and the great
empire maker had taken previous precautions to outwit his rival, W.P.
Schreiner, as far as could be done. Had the loyal colonists trusted
implicitly in the Cape Premier, Kimberley, as well as Mafeking, must
have succumbed in a month. This Bond leader had played his cards well
to serve his friends the Boers at the expense of his fellow-subjects;
but Cecil Rhodes, like Baden-Powell, found himself equal to the
occasion.
Inadequately garrisoned as it was and imperfectly armed, the mines which
they were protecting proved of invaluable service to them. From the
debris they formed perfect forts and trenches, and soon made the place
impregnable. They had a splendid mayor, a commander of infinite
resources, and a garrison of undaunted heroes. The result was that they
kept Cronje with his hosts and Long Toms at bay, and went on eating,
drinking, fighting, and enjoying themselves in spite of the deadly
dangers that environed them. Yet it was nerve-trying, and added grey
hairs to every head in that beleaguered town, young and old. Out of
bravado they might speak of those bursting shells and those numerous
attacks as subjects for joking, but all the same, the sport was grim and
heart-corroding.
Every hour had its casualties, with wounded and killed. No one knew the
moment their own hour might come.
As time went on and they became more isolated from the world, it took a
lot of pluck to keep a bold front to the relentless, treacherous, and
dastardly foe. If they had not occasionally received news of the
outside world by special runners, they must have lost heart long before
their provisions became short.
But they did get reliable news now and again, and that kept them up to
concert pitch. The brave fellows knew that the world was watching their
heroic efforts, and that the Empire had risen and was pouring out its
best sons to help and rescue them. They heard what Canada, Australia,
and New Zealand were doing. They knew that the home Government was now
working with might and main to repair its former errors of undue trust
and confidence. They would not be deserted, nor would England neglect
her duty now. The iniquitous and false Boer would be crushed, even
although it cost England her best and bravest. This braced them up and
enabled them to endure all that they were called to endure.
They knew that the enemies of England--those wretched traitors,
traducers, and fratricides--were repudiated by their countrymen as
obnoxious vermin. They knew that the gold which Kruger and his hireling
Leyds had scattered broadcast, had failed to influence the people. The
people of England were not to be biased by paid demagogues. They
demanded that right should be done, and the Government obeyed the
universal voice. The defenders of Kimberley were holding this post for
the Empire, and they did so bravely, now that the Empire appreciated
their efforts. While a man was left, and an ounce of food remained,
Cronje might bark his loudest, they would never cave in.
This was the kind of spirit which moved the whole camp. When food began
to fall short and they had to buckle their belts tighter round their
waists, they did so with a jest, for they knew that the end must be
victory.
They heard the news about Ladysmith, and all about the British
disasters. But they also heard that, instead of sixty thousand men
being sent out to help them, England was packing off two hundred
thousand of her best soldiers, and ready to send at the back of that six
or eight hundred thousand, if wanted, to clear the board. That
assurance braced them up. The Lion and his cubs were in earnest now,
and the inflated rebels were doomed. The Boer had thrown off the mask
too completely ever to be trusted with a rifle again. He must be
disarmed and kept so until he was civilised. The master villains, Paul
Kruger and his weak-minded catspaw, Steyn, would be arraigned for their
crimes against civilisation and quashed. This Cronje, the vile and
brutal murderer, would yet be tried for his atrocities, and punished as
he deserved. Schreiner and his brother traitors would have to give
account of their stewardship and be properly rewarded, and the land
would be free for honest colonists to cultivate.
Not a man in this beleaguered garrison but rested assured that those
Irish Nationalists, those paid Boer agents and home-bred renegades, as
well as the treacherous Cape Afrikanders, would yet get the just reward
of their atrocious treason; and this braced them up to endure half and
quarter rations, and to stand to their guns while famine, fever, and
shells thinned their ranks day after day. They trusted in their country
to do her duty when the hour of retribution arrived, and to punish those
dastards who used explosive bullets, fired on hospitals and the women's
quarters; who used the sacred white flag for murder, wantonly
slaughtered the wounded and their benefactors in spite of the red cross
flag; who ravenously destroyed and looted farms, and did in a hundred
ways what savages would have been ashamed of. They trusted that all
these dastardly actions would be sifted and punished, in individuals as
well as in masses, therefore they kept up their spirits and held to
their posts without a thought of surrender. Let England remember the
lacerations and wounds of her brave and dauntless sons when the hour
comes for dealing with this most unworthy and despicable foe.
They have fought well, but so do many of the most atrocious murderers,
pirates, and bushrangers, when driven into a corner, yet all the same
the pirates are hanged when caught. A rat, a snake, or a scorpion will
also face up under such circumstances, yet these vermin are crushed all
the same. Desperation and brute viciousness is not heroism, any more
than tolerated treason is a token of nobility.
Ned Romer and his comrades did their part like brave men during this
prolonged siege. It was a magnificent education to them as sons of the
Empire.
Fortunately they escaped so far woundless, and also kept off the
sick-list; yet during those four and a half months they had plenty to
do, and, like the rest of the defenders, had little time to rest.
And while they were holding their own they heard how gallant
Baden-Powell was guarding little Mafeking, and how Sir George White was
keeping the enemy at arm's length in Ladysmith. Never a thought of
surrender troubled any soul at either of those places. All the world
was watching them, and they meant to come out right.
It did not trouble them too much that Sir Redvers Buller was stopped on
the Tugela, or Lord Methuen at the Modder River. They knew what men and
cavalry these generals had at their command, and how impossible the task
was, before proper reinforcements came, so they were content to wait and
trust.
Then came the glorious news that Lords Roberts and Kitchener were on
their way with all the men and armament required.
"Now for the clearing of the board!" cried Cecil Rhodes, exultantly.
"We shall soon be on full rations again."
Many thought the news too good to be true, but their fears were
groundless. In a few weeks more the bombardment suddenly ceased. On a
happy day General French rode in, after a message, "French coming to
relief of Kimberley," and their woes were over.
Cronje was in full flight, and the first decisive blow had been struck
at the rebels. Then there was rejoicing in Kimberley, and our heroes
were at liberty to follow the rest of the war.