Campaign Pictures of the War in South Africa (1899-1900) | Page 3

with every man safe and sound, and every
waggon complete.
Then the Gordons turned out and gave us a cheer, for they had passed
us in the train as we crossed the line above Witteput, and they knew,
those veterans from Indian wars, what our raw Volunteers had done;

they had been on their feet from two o'clock on Wednesday morning
until five o'clock of the following day, with the heat at 122 in the shade,
and bitter was their wrath when they learnt that the Boer spies, who
swarm all over the country, had heralded their coming, so that the
enemy had only waited to plant a few shells into Belmont before
disappearing into the hills beyond. That was the cruel part of it. They
did not mind the fatigue, they did not worry about the thirst or the
hunger, but to be robbed of a chance to show the world what they could
do in the teeth of the enemy was gall and wormwood to them, and the
curses they sent after the discreet Boer were weird, quaint, picturesque,
and painfully prolific.
We are lying with the Gordons now, waiting for the Boers to come
along and try to take Belmont, and our fellows and the "Scotties" are
particularly good chums, and it is the cordial wish of both that they
may some day give the enemy a taste of the bayonet together.

WITH THE AUSTRALIANS.
BELMONT.
Australia has had her first taste of war, not a very great or very
important performance, but we have buried our dead, and that at least
binds us more closely to the Motherland than ever before. The
Queenslanders, the wild riders, and the bushmen of the north-eastern
portion of the continent have been the first to pay their tribute to
nationhood with the life blood of her sons, two of whom--Victor James
and McLeod--were buried by their comrades on the scene of action a
couple of days ago, whilst half a dozen others, including Lieutenant
Aide, fell more or less seriously wounded. The story of the fight is
simply told; there is no necessity for any wild vapouring in regard to
Australian courage, no need for hysterical praise. Our fellows simply
did what they were told to do in a quiet and workmanlike manner, just
as we who know them expected that they would; we are all proud of
them, and doubly proud that the men in the fight with them were our
cousins from Canada.

The most noteworthy fact about the engagement is to be gleaned by
noting that the Australians adopted Boer tactics, and so escaped the
slaughter that has so often fallen to the lot of the British troops when
attacking similar positions. Before describing the fight it may be as
well to give some slight idea of the disposition of the opposing forces.
Our troops held the railway line all the way from Cape Town to
Modder River. At given distances, or at points of strategic importance,
strong bodies of men are posted to keep the Boers from raiding, or from
interfering with the railway or telegraph lines. Such a force, consisting
of Munster Fusiliers, two guns of R.H. Artillery, the Canadians, and the
Queenslanders, were posted at Belmont under Colonel Pilcher. The
enemy had no fixed camping ground. Mounted on hardy Basuto ponies,
carrying no provisions but a few mealies and a little biltong, armed
only with rifles, they sweep incessantly from place to place, and are an
everlasting source of annoyance to us. At one moment they may be
hovering in the kopjes around us at Enslin, waiting to get a chance to
sneak into the kopjes that immediately overlook our camp, but thanks
to the magnificent scouting qualities of the Victorian Mounted Rifles,
they have never been able to do so. During the night they disperse, and
take up their abode on surrounding farms as peaceful tillers of the soil.
In a day or so they organise again, and swoop down on some other
place, such as Belmont. Their armies, under men like Cronje or Joubert,
seldom move from strongly-entrenched positions.
The people I am referring to as reivers are farmers recruited by local
leaders, and are a particularly dangerous class of people to deal with, as
they know every inch of this most deceptive country. As soon as they
are whipped they make off to wives and home, and meet the scouts
with a bland smile and outstretched hand. It is no use trying to get any
information out of them, for no man living can look so much like an
unmitigated fool when he wants to as the ordinary, every-day farmer of
the veldt. I know Chinamen exceptionally well, I have had an education
in the ways of the children of Confucius; but