With Steyn and De Wet | Page 4

taken place on Lombard's Kop. Being a sort of free lance, I
immediately saddled my pony and rode in that direction. Presently I
met two Boers on horseback.
"Morning, cousins." (Cousin is a title of courtesy used in addressing
one's equal in age. Elder men are called "uncle.")
"Morning, cousin. Of what people may cousin be?"
"Of the telegraph service. And cousins?"
"Of the artillery."
"Something happened up there last night?"
"Yes. The English came and blew up our Long Tom!"
"How was that possible?"
"We can think what we like. Why was the burgher guard absent? It is
shameful!"
We returned to camp together. The news had now been made public,
and formed the one theme of discussion. Much credit was given the
enemy for their audacity, but there was a strong suspicion that
treachery had been at work. The ensuing court-martial resulted in two
officers being suspended from duty only, although there were many
trees about.
A few days later I went to see my brother, who was stationed on
Pepworth Hill, some six miles to our right. He belonged to the Artillery
Cadets, who at the beginning of the war had been distributed amongst
the various guns in order to give them practical experience. Of the four
that were attached to this gun two had already been wounded. It was
glorious to see these lads of fifteen and sixteen daily withstanding the
onslaught of the mighty naval guns. The rocks around their howitzer
were torn by lyddite, and the ground strewn with shrapnel bullets.
"The British say we are trained German gunners. Quite a compliment to
Germany!" said one youngster laughingly.
"And I," said another, inflating his chest, "am a French or Russian
expert! Dear me, how we must have surprised them!"
They showed me how they crushed their coffee by beating it on a flat
stone. Their staple food was bully beef and hard biscuits.

"If only we had some cigarettes," they said, "how gay we should be!
Last week we got some sugar, enough for two days; we are so sick of
black, bitter coffee!"
A severe thunderstorm now broke overhead, and as I had to go on duty
that night I took leave of my friends. They had no tents, and had to find
the best shelter they could under tarpaulins stretched between the rocks.
Riding along, I soon found my raincoat soaked through. The water
began to rush along the path, and the loud, incessant pealing of the
thunder and the rapidly succeeding and fearfully vivid lightning flashes
so terrified my horse that it refused to move a step. Dismounting, I led
the animal through the blinding rain for upwards of an hour, when I
reached camp, to find the outpost already gone. I took off my streaming
garments, and turned into my warm bed. At midnight the flap of the
tent was opened, and I was ordered to turn out and stand guard. Our
effects were still at Volksrust. Drawing on a soaking wet pair of heavy
corduroy breeches in the middle of the night is one of the least
delicious experiences possible, as I found to my cost, to say nothing of
sitting in them on an antheap for a couple of hours with a chilly rain
falling.
In the morning came the news that the enemy had again surprised and
blown up one of our guns--none other than the howitzer visited by me
the previous evening. Presently the young cadets themselves came
riding into camp, bringing with them pieces of guncotton, and showing
by the state of their ragged uniforms the hand-to-hand nature of the
struggle that had taken place.
One of them said in answer to my inquiries--
"We heard someone climbing the hill in the night, and challenged. It
was the British. They shouted 'Rule Britannia!' and rushed up to the top.
We fired into them. We were too few. By sheer weight of numbers they
forced us aside. One of the artillerymen was dragged by the leg from
his sleeping-place. He shook himself free, and bolted. The soldiers
formed a square round the gun, charged it with guncotton, shouted
'Stand back!' and the next moment our gun was crashing through the
sky. It all happened in a moment. Then the enemy retired, followed by
some burghers, who had by this time arrived from the laager at the back
of the hill. The Pretoria commando was also waiting for them, and
intercepting their retreat, made them pay dearly enough for their

exploit."

COLENSO
One day our scouts made a splendid haul, bringing into camp that
celebrated, devil-may-care animal, the war-correspondent. His story
was that he had wandered out of Ladysmith with a packet of
newspapers--"merely to exchange notes and to challenge you for a
cricket match!"
Squatted on the