With Botha in the Field | Page 4

as a
masterpiece of unconscious humour when General Botha left Pretoria
for the Free State on November 9. Again, I am not concerned with the
highly complex motives which prompted the veteran Dutch General to
make his delightful "Five Bob Outrage" speech and other things at
Vrede. Flogging dead horses is a useless job, anyway.
During the journey to the Free State, our guard en the train was
extremely strict. Though every possible precaution of secrecy had been
taken, we were positively told to be prepared to find the train fired
upon. But, if during such journeys preparedness was doubtless essential
in the circumstances, it always seemed to me that we, or any one so
placed, were pretty powerless to avert disaster should a properly
directed shot from the darkness find its mark.
On November 11 we detrained at Theunissen, in the Free State. It was
speedily clear that this part of the world was in the grip of disturbance.
Telegraph poles all along the line had been wrecked; an amount of mild
pillaging had been going on. The people of Theunissen were almost in
panic. The two fights--one against Conroy, at Allaman's Kraal, the
other and larger, against De Wet, at Doornberg--had been enormously
magnified. General Botha was welcomed in genuine relief. We
remained at arms in the train during the first part of the night. At 2 a.m.
we were roused, and in less than half an hour were on the way across
country to Winburg.
The arrival at the little railhead dorp of Winburg was remarkable.
Scarcely were we halted and hand put to loosen girth before the loyalist
leaders came running out in the morning sunshine to meet us. De Wet
had left the place two hours before, disappearing with his following
over the first kopje. He had caused absolute panic. His forces had cut
the inhabitants off from all touch with the outer world. De Wet had
commandeered all food supplies worth having. Houses had been looted
and speeches were made in the marketplace. His followers had assured
the people that the Empire was tottering, Germany had defeated Britain
on land and sea, a hundred thousand were marching on Pretoria, and
that Botha and his Government were defeated and disgraced. And these
statements were to a large extent believed.
It was but natural. Cut off the wire and rail communication of a South
African veld town and you have isolation in the most thorough sense.

In such a place at such a time mere statement may seem quite possibly
the truth.
Towards evening we got news of the rebels, and a night-march was
ordered. As we left the town the loyal people lined the streets, the
fellows in the columns whistled "Tipperary," and we got a rousing
farewell.
[Illustration: Group of Rebel Leaders] [Illustration: Rebels rounded up
after the capture of De Wet]
General Botha is celebrated amongst fighting men for many things, and
his night-marching is one of them. He appears to believe to the fullest
extent in night-marching. He had located De Wet at a place called
Mushroom Valley, and parts of the Commander-in-Chief's forces had
been sent to make a surrounding movement. During the all-night trek
from Winburg to Mushroom Valley I had a first thorough experience of
the true horrors of sleep-fighting. It was bitterly cold--cold as the Free
State night on the veld knows how to be. And we could not smoke,
could not talk above a faint murmur, and nodded in our saddles. The
clear stars danced fantastically in the sky ahead of us, and the ground
seemed to be falling away from us into vast hollows, then rising to our
horses' noses ready to smash into us like an impalpable wall. After
midnight, outspanning in a piercing wind, we formed square; main
guard was posted over the General's car, and those lucky enough to
escape turn of duty huddled together under cloaks and dozed fitfully
until two-thirty. From two-thirty till sunrise we trekked on. Suddenly,
just after good daylight, the Staff halted the column, glasses were put
up, and away we swung half right into the veld. Up came the artillery
and opened fire on a cluster of ant-sized figures four thousand yards
ahead beneath the shoulder of a kopje. Had the thing not contained the
very germ of tragedy it would have been laughable to see the way those
figures scattered over the red veld. It was De Wet's commandos caught
napping. Just before the shell fire our burghers had gone out ahead
hell-for-leather on either flank. The whole column then advanced. After
two hours' pretty hot work the action was over. We lost six killed
against the rebels' twenty-two, and with twenty wounded on our side
the rebel losses were proportionate. We took upwards of three hundred