Lindley and Heilbron were each in telegraphic communication with all the
other towns still in our possession, and consequently also with each
other; but no telegraph line ran between the two. A message from one to
the other had to travel _viâ_ Johannesburg and Kroonstad, involving a
delay of several hours. It was our task to make good this missing link.
Haste was required, for the British were already marching on Kroonstad,
whence the Government was preparing to retire, ostensibly to Lindley,
but in reality to Heilbron.
Unfortunately the material wherewith the new line was to be built had
not yet arrived from the Transvaal. The inspector decided not to wait,
but to build the line without it.
"Build a line without material? Impossible," you say. Not at all. You
forget the fences; we did not.
Our first care was to obtain a list of those farms along the road whose
fences joined. This did not take many hours. Being joined here by a
lineman, who had charge of half a dozen natives and a waggon, we loaded
our luggage on the latter, as well as a sack or two of meal--the only
foodstuff we could obtain, and began work, each armed with a spanner and
a couple of iron tent-pegs.
The fences were in bad repair, many of the stone poles having fallen
down and the wires being broken and tangled every few hundred yards.
Lifting the heavy stones and repairing and untangling the barbed wire
was unaccustomed work, and soon our hands were covered with cuts and
bruises. The distance by road between the two points is only about forty
miles, but owing to the fences running at all angles to each other we
had about seventy miles to cover. This it took us a week to do, rising
early, working all through the day, and continuing in the moonlight at
night. By buying a couple of sheep to supplement the bags of meal, and
drinking a gall-like imitation coffee brewed from barley, we managed to
fare well enough, and better than thousands of others are faring to-day.
Our communication with the starting-point continued fairly good until we
came within six miles of Heilbron, when it suddenly failed. I went back
along the line, and eventually found the fault. After having repaired it
and given my pony an hour's rest, I took a short cut for Heilbron, and
arrived there at ten that night, only to find that during the time
occupied by my return ride the wire had again stopped working. Having
been in the saddle since six in the morning, I could do no more that
night, although the Government, now installed here, was anxiously
awaiting the resumption of communication. Early the next morning I
started back. I considered it best to start testing from the middle of
the line, and therefore went by road instead of following the fence. A
few miles out of town I met De Wet's force, which was just retreating
from Ventersburg. The men and animals were weary and dusty, but there
was no depression noticeable; hope seemed to spring up afresh after
every defeat, and those who thought of the result at all were confident
that, as the song of the camp had it, "No Englishman shall ever cross
the Vaal."
And now I shall try and draw you a picture of what I saw next. It was a
scene painfully humiliating for a Boer; what it was for an Englishman I
leave you to judge.
Coming along in the dusty road was a little drove of cattle and horses,
about twenty in all, shaggy animals, and of all sizes, evidently the
entire stock of some small farmer. Mounted astride on ponies, driving
the sorry herd, their faces sunburnt, their hair all in a tangle, and
their air the most dejected possible, were two young girls of about
fifteen and seventeen years. Following them was a rickety old waggon.
Under the hood sat an aged man and his wife, the parents of the two
girls. Not a soul to help these poor creatures in their wild flight.
They did not even know whither they were fleeing--anywhere to keep out
of the hands of the enemy. Slowly the little caravan passed out of
sight. Who can tell what regrets for the past were felt by the aged
couple?--what hopes for the future by the helpless lasses?
When I reached the intermediate station I found that the fault lay on
the Lindley side. Towards Lindley I rode, testing the line frequently,
but the sun went down and I was still testing. It grew too dark to see
the wire distinctly, so I made for a farmhouse near by to seek shelter
for the night. I knocked at the door, whereupon the light within was
immediately extinguished. A minute or so after a native servant came
round from the back. I gave him my horse to take to the stable, and
waited for the door to be opened. Presently the Kafir returned and asked
me to follow him to a side door, which he opened for me. I stepped
inside, and found myself in the presence of about a dozen Boers, all
armed, and all gazing at me as if they had paid for the privilege.
There was something tense in the situation.
I broke the ice by asking them if they took me for a ghost. As soon as
they heard me speak in Dutch the fixed stare gave way to a general grin.
Then they explained, with a sigh of relief, that the zealous servant had
told them with bated breath that I was a bold, bad Englishman, whereupon
they had made the above preparations for receiving me. I did not fail to
curse the native's stupidity, after which we sat down to a plentiful
dinner. When this was over the mistress of the house made us a large bed
on the floor, and soon my strange bedfellows and myself were slumbering
like a lot of little cherubs.
Leaving early the next morning, I followed the line without any success
until within four miles of Lindley. Then I noticed a long column of
vehicles and cavalry trekking over the hill to my right and towards the
town. Presently an old Boer came driving by.
"Do you know what that is?" he asked, pointing to the column.
"No."
"English."
I observed the column attentively. Yes, he was right. The mystery was
explained. Naturally enough we could not get into communication with
the town when it was already occupied by the enemy. The British had
heard that the Government was in Lindley, and had therefore made this
sudden march, whilst we believed them to be still in Kroonstad. It was
most important that the President should know the news immediately. I at
once attached the vibrator to the line and called up Heilbron.
"Here Heilbron."
"Here P. The English are in Lindley."
"What!"
"The English are in Lindley."
"Impossible."
"Please tell the President what I say."