A band of about thirty Transvaalers, mostly from Potchefstroom, who had
been attached to De Wet for some time, now decided to go on ahead and
join Liebenberg's commando, near their native town. As De Wet had no
intention of moving forward just yet, I joined my brother Transvaalers.
Bidding adieu to our Free State comrades, we crossed the Vaal. Just
beyond the river we were joined by two or three others, who had with
them as prisoner a British sergeant. This fellow had been in charge of a
band of native police, whose insolence had terrorised the women and
children for miles around, until a body of Boers came along and routed
them out of the district, capturing their leader. What became of the
blacks I do not know, but it must be remembered that the Transvaal
natives are Boer subjects, and liable to be shot if caught aiding the
British. The feeling against the sergeant was very bitter.
"Oh, you're the Kafir chief, are you?" said one of our men to him.
"Ho, yuss, h' I'm the Kefir ginnyril," responded the flattered cockney,
with an irritating grin.
"I'd like to Kafir general you through the head," said the disgusted
Boer promptly. The sickly grin faded, and the threat was not carried
out.
Towards afternoon a heavy rain began to fall. There was no shelter for
us, and we pushed along, wet and cold. Then night came, and the road,
now transformed into a rushing torrent, was only shown us by the lurid
lightning flashes that continually rent the heavens. And we had a sick
man on the trolley, for whom this exposure was a serious matter. But
finally we reached a farmhouse, occupied by an old woman. Her eyes
filled with tears when she saw us, and she thanked the Lord that He had
spared her to behold once more the defenders of her country. Near by was
an empty building. We outspanned and off-saddled, turning our animals
loose, as we knew they would not stray far in such a blinding storm. The
sick man was hastily carried in and laid upon some dry blankets.
Then we made half a dozen roaring fires with some mealie cobs that we
found lying in the house, stripped ourselves, and held our boots and
clothing over the fire till they were fairly dry. By this time the water
boiled; we drank some coffee, then made up beds on the floor and slept
till morning. It was a bit of a struggle to get into our damp things
when we awoke, but as we rode along our clothes dried and our spirits
rose. Then Potchefstroom came in sight, but, alas! it was held by the
enemy.
"What would my poor mother say," said one young fellow, "if she knew I
was so near!"
"Oh, my wife and children!" sighed another.
"Cheer up, boys!" interrupted the commandant. "Our country first, you
know."
That afternoon we joined a small commando lying near the railway between
Potchefstroom and Frederikstad. It numbered barely a hundred men, but
they had with them a bomb-Maxim and a Krupp. At midnight we got orders
to march for the hills near Frederikstad, where we arrived at dawn. Here
we were reinforced by a score of burghers, and we continued our way,
keeping in a parallel with the railway, but behind some intervening
hills. Presently a scout came in and reported the enemy in sight.
"Forward!" ordered the commandant, and forward we raced along through
the veld, keeping a look-out for holes. One youngster's horse went
down, the rider turning a beautiful somersault. Shouts of laughter
greeted his exploit, but he quickly remounted, and was one of the first
to reach the hill for which we were making, and which dominated the
railway. Keeping the Nordenfeldt in reserve, we opened fire with Krupp
and small-arms on the advance guard of the enemy.
We did not know at the time that we were tackling Lord Methuen and five
thousand men, but such was the case. Of course we made a very poor show;
what can you expect? But anyhow, we engaged them for about two hours.
Then their cavalry came on with a rush, and we were compelled to give
way. It was only with the greatest difficulty that we saved the guns,
and we only succeeded in doing so, I presume, because the enemy were not
aware of our real numbers. Our waggons fled to one side of the line
whilst we remained on the other, with absolutely nothing to eat. By
buying a few eggs and other small produce from the natives we managed to
subsist until the third day, when we crossed the railway, marched all
night, and rejoined our waggons at dawn. To slaughter sheep and cook
porridge did not take long; hearty is the only word to describe the meal
we made. Then we moved round and joined Liebenberg, who, with six
hundred men, had just retaken Klerksdorp without firing a shot. But
then, the place was garrisoned by only forty English, and resistance
would have been of no avail.
We hung about the neighbourhood of Potchefstroom for about two weeks,
anxiously waiting for the word to be given to attack the town, but
Liebenberg confined his tactics to making an appearance in sight of the
town and retreating as soon as the enemy came out to give battle. This
kept the enemy on the _qui vive_, it is true, but it also tired out our
horses, and we soon grew weary of it. We had several lively little
skirmishes, however. One day about forty of us were detached to go and
bombard a British gun which stood on the other side of the town, whilst
the rest of our commando approached the town on this side. We were
sitting down quite comfortably under a tree below our gun, eating bread
and dripping, listening to the duel and smiling at the high aim of the
British gunners, when the look-out shouted--"Here's the enemy behind
us!"
The gun was rapidly limbered up and we rode to the top of the hill.
Across the valley about a hundred horsemen were stealthily stealing up
Vaal Kop, evidently with the intention of taking us in the rear. We
halted and gave them a couple of shells, to which they very promptly
replied.
"Commandant," said one of my comrades, "let's charge them. They're not
too many for us."
"No," was the reply; "it's best to be prudent."
"Well, I'm going to have a smack at them, anyway! Coming along?" he
shouted to me, and without waiting for a reply, started down the valley.
I followed him, and we cut across over the loose stones at a breakneck
pace, not making straight for the enemy, but for a rocky ridge whence
our fire could reach them. As we climbed the ridge we were joined by two
others. When we got to the top we saw about forty horsemen in the valley
beyond.
"Fifteen hundred yards!" shouted Frank, and we let them have it. Round
and round they turned in a confused circle, like a flock of worried
sheep. Then they rode away to the right, straight into a morass, back
again, and finally retreated in amongst the bushes on the slope of the
hill, whence they favoured us with a few well-aimed shots in reply. The
whole thing had lasted barely five minutes, but we had each emptied
about fifty cartridges, so we felt quite happy. As we left the shelter
of the hill and rode back across the valley, their companions on top of
the hill turned a Maxim on us, but the bullets all went high, singing
overhead like a flight of canaries. Going up on the other side, I took a
piece of bread out of my pocket, and was just trying to persuade myself
to offer our two companions some, when crack! crack! came a couple of
Nordenfeldt shells right behind us. It didn't take us long to get over
the hill, the vicious little one-pounders crackling and fizzling round
us all the while.
On the other side a comical sight met our eyes. The whole veld was full
of scattered Boers retiring in all directions, with a shell bursting in
between them every now and then, luckily without any effect. A few
hundred yards away stood the cart of our clergyman, who was frantically
trying to unharness his mules and inspan horses in their place. He was
so nervous that his fingers refused to undo the straps, so we dismounted
and effected the exchange for him. As soon as the last strap was buckled
he lashed up and drove away, too excited even to say thank you.
We were so accustomed to retreating by this time that it seemed
extraordinary to see a man lose his head so easily. The British shells
pursued us till we were out of sight, but the only casualty was when a
shell passed so close to Van der Merwe, the mining commissioner of
Johannesburg, that the concussion knocked him off his horse.
That evening Jonas came into camp. Jonas is quite a character in his
way. When the British entered Potchefstroom he, with four followers,
took up a position on a kopje about six miles out of town, and a
thousand yards from the Johannesburg road. Whenever a convoy or a body
of British came along Jonas and his merry band would open a furious
fusillade, causing the unhappy enemy no end of inconvenience. It is a
fact that he carried on this game for months, unhindered.
After his day's work Jonas would lay aside rifle and bandolier, don his
overcoat, and stroll into town to see his family.
He was challenged by a sentry on one occasion, but Jonas reproved him so
severely and bluffed him so completely, that the poor fellow broke into
an abject apology, whereupon Jonas very condescendingly promised to say
no more about the matter.