With the Boer Forces | Page 7

this natural boundary line was an immense territory every square
mile of which contained mountain passes which a handful of Boers
could hold against an invading army; on the other side there was hardly
a rock behind which a burgher rifleman could conceal himself. Here
herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, instead of wild beasts, sped away
from the roar of the train; here there was the daub and wattle cottage of
the farmer instead of the thatched hut of the native savage.
Small towns of corrugated iron and mud-brick homes and shops
appeared at long intervals on the veld; grass-fires displayed the
presence of the Boer farmer with his herds, and the long ox-teams
slowly rolling over the plain signified that not all the peaceful pursuits
of a small people at war with a great nation had been abandoned. The
coal-mines at Belfast, with their towering stacks and clouds of smoke,
gave the first evidence of the country's wondrous underground wealth,
and then farther on in the journey came the small city of Middleburg
with its slate-coloured corrugated iron roofs in marked contrast to the
green veld grass surrounding it. There appeared armed and bandoliered
Boers, prepared to join their countrymen in the field, with wounded
friends and sad-faced women to bid farewell to them. While the train
lay waiting at the station small commandos of burghers came dashing
through the dusty streets, bustled their horses into trucks at the rear end
of the passenger train, and in a few moments they were mingling with
the foreign volunteers in the coaches. Grey-haired Boers gravely bade
adieu to their wives and children, lovers embraced their weeping
sweethearts, and the train moved on toward Pretoria and the battlefields
where these men were to risk their lives for the life of their country.
Historic ground, where Briton and Boer had fought before, came in
view. Bronkhorst Spruit, where a British commander led more than one
hundred of his men to death in 1880, lay to the left of the road in a little
wooded ravine. Farther on toward Pretoria appeared rocky kopjes,
where afterwards the Boers, retreating from the capital city, gathered
their disheartened forces, and resisted the advance of the enemy. Eerste
Fabriken was a hamlet hardly large enough to make an impression

upon the memory, but it marked a battlefield where the burghers fought
desperately. Children were then gathering peaches from the trees,
whose roots drank the blood of heroes months afterwards. Several
miles farther on were the hills on the outskirts of Pretoria, where, in the
war of 1881, the Boer laagers sent forth men to encompass the city and
to prevent the British besieged in it from escaping. It was ground
hallowed in Boer history since the early voortrekkers crossed the ridges
of the Magaliesberg and sought protection from the savage hordes of
Moselekatse in the fertile valley of the Aapjes River.
Pretoria in war-time was most peaceful. In the days before the
commencement of hostilities it was a city of peace as contrasted with
the metropolis, Johannesburg, and its warring citizens, but when
cannon were roaring on the frontier, Pretoria itself seemed to escape
even the echoes. After the first commandos had departed the city streets
were deserted, and only women and children gathered at the bulletin
boards to learn the fate of the burgher armies. The stoeps of houses and
cottages were deserted of the bearded yeomanry, and the halls of the
Government buildings resounded only with the tread of those who were
not old or strong enough to bear arms. The long ox-waggons which in
former times were so common in the streets were not so frequently to
be seen, but whenever one of them rolled toward the market square, it
was a Boer woman who cracked the raw-hide whip over the heads of
the oxen. Pretoria was the same quaint city as of old, but it lacked the
men who were its most distinguishing feature. The black-garbed
Volksraad members, the officials, and the old retired farmers, who were
wont to discuss politics on the stoeps of the capitol and the Transvaal
Hotel were absent. Inquiries concerning them could be addressed only
to women and children, and the replies invariably were: "They are on
commando," or, "They were killed in battle."
The scenes of activity in the city were few in number, and they were
chiefly in connection with the arrival of foreign volunteers and the
transit of burgher commandos on the way to the field. The Grand Hotel
and the Transvaal Hotel, the latter of which was conducted by the
Government for the temporary entertainment of the volunteers, were
constantly filled with throngs of foreigners, comprising soldiers of

fortune, Red Cross delegations, visitors, correspondents, and
contractors, and almost every language except that of the Boers