"Oh, I have orders from my commandant, which I must keep secret."
"Yes, I know your kind of orders. Get away, and don't interfere with
men who are doing their duty." The band thereupon cleared off. Then a
despatch rider came dashing up, his splendid black entire specked with
foam.
"I have an urgent despatch for the Government," he said, after we had
made ourselves known to each other, "but my mount is about done up after
all the riding about I have done away on our left."
"Give it me," I said; "I'll repair the line and send it through."
He handed me the message, and we walked over to the farmhouse. Whilst we
were drinking a cup of coffee crowds of burghers rode past in retreat.
Nearly every one stopped and asked for a glass of milk, a loaf of bread,
or a few eggs. Their wants were supplied as far as possible. In every
case money was offered, and in every case it was refused.
With the despatch in my pocket I could not delay, so I took my nag and
rode back along the fence. The very first test I made I found the line
in order again. I transmitted the despatch, adding that there was
nothing to stop the enemy from taking Heilbron that night. This news
caused some consternation, as may be imagined, and the Government left
Heilbron immediately.
When I had finished I saw coming towards me a young Free Stater, who had
been sent out from Heilbron to remove the fault, which he had succeeded
in doing.
"Let's go back to the farmhouse after sunset," I said, "and see if the
British are there already."
"Right!"
We waited till dark, and then carefully rode to the farm, making as
little noise as possible. When near the house we dismounted, cautiously
approached, and peered through a window. Everything was quiet. We
knocked. The housewife opened the door, pale and agitated.
"They have not been here yet?" I asked.
"No, but we expect them every minute."
We brought our horses into the yard, so as to be at hand, and entered
the house.
"Your husband is not back yet?"
"No, but they say he is safe."
The door opened noiselessly, and the man himself stood before us. He had
also taken a look through the window before entering. He placed his gun
in a corner, kissed his wife and children, and shook hands with us.
"We've had a hard day;" he said, "let's go in to supper."
After the meal, even more silent than is habitual amongst us, where
talking at table is almost as bad form as making a joke with a minister
would be in Sloper's Scotland, our host told us that the English had
camped on the spot where they had fought, and that he did not think they
would march till daylight. It was best for us to sleep there that night,
and leave with him before dawn.
We agreed.
"Father, can I go too?" asked his son, aged thirteen.
"No, my boy, you must stay and help mother to manage the farm. It will
be a long while ere father returns."
"Oh, father! I'm too old to stay in the house, like an old woman.
Besides, I'm afraid they will make me prisoner."
"Do you think they catch children like him?" his mother asked anxiously.
"No, I don't think they are so cruel," I replied; "but one can never
tell."
"Well, they won't get the chance," said the plucky little fellow. "As
soon as I see them coming, I shall take my mare and go and hide in the
hills."
The mother did not say anything. She bore up bravely, as our women ever
do, Heaven bless them! Was it not but some ten miles from this very spot
that years before a handful of our pioneers had gained the victory at
Vecht Kop, when the women loaded the guns and handed them to the men as
the latter unflinchingly beat back the tremendous horde of maddened
blacks that flung themselves against the hastily drawn circle of
waggons. Does not one old lady still bear the scars of the nineteen
stabs she received on that day? Our women are women indeed, and worthy
mothers of the race that yet shall people all Africa and rule itself.
Do not think I am flying too high. The average Boer family numbers ten
children. Boys are in the majority. If at present we have thirty
thousand warriors (I am not counting the wasters), it follows that in
two generations we shall have three hundred thousand. Taking the
proportion then, as now, of ten to one, Britain will have to employ
against us in 1940 no less than three million men! And when that time
comes, the children of to-day will have the recollection of the
concentration camps and of a few other little trifles to strengthen
their backbone.
The concentration camps! Fit subject for Dante, who in the _Divina
Comedia_ portrays as no other can the maddened heart of a father doomed
to see his children waste away before his very eyes. There are many
relentless Ugolins among the Boers to-day.
I firmly believe that a steady process of infanticide was never intended
to be the _raison d'être_ of these camps; no civilised nation could
deliberately sanction a system cemented with the bones and blood of
innocent babes. And the British are a civilised nation.
No, the fault does not lie in the system itself, but in its application.
It is a humane idea carried out inhumanely, so inhumanely that when the
Black Hole of Calcutta is forgotten Englishmen will still hang their
heads for shame at the mention of concentration.
What the Levite concubine's outraged flesh was to Israel the infant
mortality is to the Afrikanders of the Cape and Natal, who, a hundred
thousand strong, may at any moment lose their self-control and throw in
their lot with their brethren. Then Britain will tear the bandage from
her eyes, but it will be too late.
Let me remind Canon Knox-Little, and those other divines who can
complacently view the children's Golgotha, of the words of their Master:
"_But whoso shall offend one of these little ones, it were better that a
millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were drowned in the depth
of the sea._"
But to return. After the usual reading of the Gospel, we retired for the
night. Our sleep, however, was none too secure. At about two o'clock the
dogs set up a terrible howling. My heart beat loudly. We were in for it
now! But no, it was only the farmer's son, who came to tell us to get
ready.
We rose at once. Our host said a long good-bye to his wife and children,
and we rode away in the misty night, a keen wind cutting through flesh
and bone.
After a very long hour we reached the house of our guide's brother.
We got in without awakening the inmates, and entered a small bedroom,
where two young men were lying asleep. They woke on hearing us move
about, and struck a match.
"Good morning," I said; "rather early, isn't it?"
"Yes," they replied, waiting for me to explain. I kept quiet, however,
and watched the expression on their faces gradually change from surprise
to uneasiness, and from uneasiness to alarm. Then I briefly explained
the situation to the young men, after which we went to sleep in our
chairs till daybreak, when the servant entered with the morning coffee.
Our guide took us into the parlour and introduced us to his
sister-in-law. He then left to rejoin his commando.
We stayed to breakfast, and then also left, making for Heilbron, but not
feeling quite sure as to whether we should reach it before the enemy.
After travelling a couple of hours we observed half a dozen horsemen
appear against the skyline on our left. From the way they were spread
out we judged them to be English. To make sure we rode a little nearer.
On coming round one of the numerous undulating _bulten_, we saw three
horsemen making for us at full speed. We at once wheeled round and took
up a position behind some rocks. When the horsemen came closer we found
that they were Boers. They told us, however, that the men first observed
by us were really British, which accounted for their haste, and that the
whole column was following just behind.
Now that we had located the enemy we felt more at ease. The scouts were
riding near the road along which the wire ran, about seven miles from
the town. Cutting across in plain sight of the enemy, we fixed the
vibrator to the fence, and called up Heilbron. We heard the instruments
working in the office, but got no reply to our hurried call. The scouts
were about fifteen hundred yards away. We continued calling; they
continued approaching, carefully inspecting every foot of ground before
them. It seemed strange to us that the scouts of a column on the march
should search for the enemy within five hundred yards only of the main
body. But perhaps that is what they teach at Sandhurst. Presently the
head of the column came in sight from behind the rise. The scouts were
now within eight hundred yards. We quietly mounted our horses and rode
away. They gave no sign of having observed our movements. When some
distance away, we looked back and saw that the whole column had halted,
about seven thousand men.
We reached Heilbron to find the place practically deserted. Wishing to
see the enemy enter the town, we delayed our departure. Some hours
passed, and nothing happened to denote the proximity of the British. We
feared that they might be surrounding the town before entering it, so we
left for Frankfort, following the road taken by the President the night
before.