With Steyn and De Wet | Page 2

alluvial diggings of the early days, and now the centre of an important
mining district. Here we heard that our commandoes had invaded the
enemy's territory in every direction, and news of the preliminary
engagements was awaited with breathless interest. The male inhabitants
of the village often spent entire nights under the verandah of the
telegraph office, and the importance of the telegraphist suddenly grew
almost too great to bear with becoming modesty.
One Sunday morning, however, the office wore a deserted look. The
Dutch inhabitants were engaged in courteously escorting those of
British birth or sympathies over the border, and I was alone. After a
long interval of silence the instrument began ticking off a message--
"Elandslaagte--flight--lancers!"
Then came the list of the fallen. Name after name of well-known men
fell like lead upon the ear. Finally my colleague at the other end gently
signalled that of my uncle, followed by the sympathetic remark: "Sorry,
old man."
I could write no more. What, my uncle dead! General Kock, Major Hall,
Advocate Coster--all dead! It seemed impossible. We could not
understand it, this first initiation of ours into war's horrible reality.
Within a week reinforcements were despatched from our district. I
obtained a few weeks' leave of absence and accompanied them.
We were an interesting band. Two hundred strong, we counted among
our number farmers, clerks, schoolmasters, students, and a publican.
My mess consisted of a Colonial, an Irishman, a Hollander, a German,
a Boer, and a Jew. It must not be imagined, however, that we were a
cosmopolitan crowd, for the remaining hundred and ninety-four were
nearly all true Boers, mostly of the backwoods type, extremely
conservative, and inclined to be rather condescending in their attitude
towards the clean-shaven town-dwellers. The almost universal respect
inspired by a beard or a paunch is a poor tribute to human discernment.
Every mess possessed one or two ox-waggons, loaded with a tent,

portmanteaux, trunks, foodstuffs, and ammunition. We made about
twenty miles daily, passing through Lydenburg, Machadodorp,
Carolina, and Ermelo, and reached Volksrust on the fourteenth day.
During the march we learnt that heavy fighting had taken place in Natal,
Dundee being taken and Ladysmith invested, and a strong commando
had actually made a reconnaissance as far down as Estcourt.
General Joubert, who had bruised himself in the saddle during the latter
expedition, was now recruiting his health here in Volksrust. I went to
see him, and found him installed in a railway carriage, and looking very
old and worn. I showed him a telegram instructing me to apply to him
for a special passport enabling me to return when my leave expired.
He said, "Others want leave to go home; you ask for leave to come to
the front. But your time is so short, it is hardly worth while. Still, I am
glad to see such a spirit among you young people."
Turning to his secretary, he ordered the passport to be made out. This
was done in pencil on the back of my telegram. The general signed,
handed me the document, and shook my hand. I thanked him, and left,
highly gratified.
We entrained that afternoon, slept in the carriages at Newcastle,
reached Ladysmith, or rather our station nearest Ladysmith, the
following day, disentrained, rode into camp, reported ourselves for duty,
and went on outpost the same night.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Our chief concern was whether we, as novices, would bear ourselves
well in our first engagement. Speaking to an old campaigner on the
subject, he said--
"Tell me candidly, how do you feel?"
"Well, rather nervous."
"Ah! Now, I can tell you a man who feels nervous before a fight is all
right, because he has some idea of what he is going to meet. It is the
reckless recruit that often proves a coward. He fancies it a mere
bagatelle, and finds out his mistake too late."
This rather encouraged us, for, to tell the truth, we felt anything but
reckless.
One evening about twenty of us were sent off to keep watch in a Kafir
kraal near the town. In one of the huts we found a Kafir lying sick, and

too weak to rise. He told us the former outpost had always brought him
something to eat, but now they had not come for some days, and he had
begun to think himself doomed to die of starvation, or, worse still, of
thirst. We soon made up a collection of biscuits and cold tea, and I am
happy to say that henceforth the poor creature's wants were daily
supplied.
A rather peculiar adventure befell us here a few days later. The sun had
already set when we reached the spot where we were to stand guard
during the night. We dismounted, and two men went forward on