The Intelligence officer rode out on his lonely mission. Luckily he had changed his horse after the affair at Liebenbergspan, and being well mounted, he felt fairly confident. He first steered north-west, hoping to strikeoff thespoorof Goven's column. But when after four miles he failed to find it, he opined that he was making a detour which, if persevered in, would not bring him to his destination by nightfall. He therefore changed his direction to due north, and put spurs to his horse. He was working along the inner edge of a great veldt-basin, and getting a little uncomfortable as to his direction; and alarmed that he saw no traces of the column, he dismounted in a kloof, and climbed to the top of the edge of the basin. Beneath him lay a track, standing out white against the veldt. There was just a short breadth of veldt, and then the country became very broken and hilly. Within two hundred yards of the spot which he had chosen for his reconnaissance stood a small farmhouse. But it was not the farmhouse that attracted his attention; it was a pillar of dust which showed to the north along the track. He took out his glasses. There was no doubt about it,—it was a body of mounted men and some transport going away from him. They were not more than a mile away; and if it hadnot been for the dust, he could almost have counted the force. "It is De Wet," he inwardly reflected; "he is going right into Goven's arms; and for Boers to make all that dust, they must be travelling fast." He turned his glasses down to the south; there he could find no sign of living thing upon the track. He was just debating in his mind what would be the right course to pursue, when he heard a voice behind him, "Beg pardon, sir, but them is Boers; they have just all gone past here!" He turned round to find a British dragoon standing stiffly to attention behind him.
Intelligence Officer."Who are you? and where the devil have you come from?"
Trooper."Please, sir, we belongs to a patrol that was sent out by Captain Charles, and we got lost."
I. O."Where are the others? where are your horses?"
T."I have got the three horses down in the nullah there. The corporal and the other man are down in that farm, sir; at least that is where they went before the Boers came."
I. O."In that farm? Why, the Boerswill have got them; they must have passed quite close to the farm!"
T."They did that, sir; but I never seed them get them. I expect that they was under the beds when the Boers passed."
I. O."Did you see all the Boers pass?"
T."Yes, sir; there was about a thousand, two waggons, and a lot of carts. Some was riding horses, and others riding in the carts."
I. O."Were they going fast?"
T."Yes, sir; just as fast as they could, shouting and swearing and calling to each other. They seemed dreadful pressed for time!"
I. O."We had better see if those other fellows of yours are still in the farm. Have you got your rifle loaded?"
The Intelligence officer and trooper walked down to the little homestead, and as they approached the door out stepped the two most scared and astonished dragoons that South Africa has ever seen. They were escorted by a bevy of smiling girls. When they saw their comrade safe and sound in the company of an officer, they becameabsolutely nonplussed. But the Intelligence officer got the following history out of the corporal:—
Corporal."Well, sir, we were sent off as a patrol on the right flank, and somehow among the kopjes we lost touch, and about an hour ago we reached this place. I left the horses under cover with Smith, and I took one man and went to reconnoitre the farm. We found this nice old lady inside, who speaks English; and she told us that she hadn't seen any English troops, but that a small party of Boers had passed in the morning, who had stopped and had some coffee, but who seemed to be in a hurry. The good lady asked us if we would have some coffee. Well, sir, we were very thirsty and hungry-like, so we sat down, and they gave us some coffee and cake and things; and just as we were eating, the old lady rushed in and said the Boers were coming, and hustled us into a small bedroom. Well, sir, we looked through the window, spy-like, and there, sure enough, were about ten Boers on horses galloping past the house. They were mostly quite young boys, but therewere some greybeards amongst them. They seemed in a great hurry, for only one just stopped at the house, and he only stayed a moment. Then more and more passed, riding along in no formation, and all seeming in a hurry. Just one or two turned aside and had a word with the people of the house, but none of them got off their horses. Then an ambulance-waggon came by, and quite a string of Cape carts: the last cart had four horses in it, driven by a nigger, and it stopped quite five minutes at the farm. Two men, who kept on shouting orders to the passing Boers, were sitting in the back of it——"
Intelligence Officer."What were they like?"
C."One was a stout man with a long black beard; the other had a grey beard and puffy eyes. The people here now tell us that they were Steyn and De Wet."
I. O."Why the devil didn't you shoot them?"
Trooper(coming to his comrades aid). "How was we to know, sir, as how they were generals? they just looked two comfortableold civie blokes. Besides, we had left our rifles standing in the next room!"
I. O."How many Boers would you say went by?"
C."I should say four or five hundred, sir; they was going by in driblets for the best part of half an hour."
I. O."Who are the people in this house? I can't understand their attitude in screening you here. You have had the most remarkable experience. What an opportunity!"
C."The lady, sir, is an Irish lady, and she is a very good friend to her countrymen!"
The Intelligence officer then cross-examined the owner of the farm, and she corroborated all that the corporal had said. Both De Wet and Steyn were in the four-horsed cart. They asked her if she had seen any kharkis recently; about the state of the Riet River, and the distance to Kalabas bridge; and before driving off impressed upon her the necessity of putting any of the English off the scent who might be following. As they drove away De Wet shouted back, "They are close behind." This information raised the Intelligence officer to a high standard ofexcitement, for he now felt sure that the brigade was well in upon the right scent. Already he found himself listening for the sound of Goven's guns. Collecting the three troopers who had been nearer to the person of De Wet than other armed Britishers had for some time, he turned back into the veldt basin and pushed forward northwards. The sun was now nearly down, but that was nothing: buoyed by a great excitement, the Intelligence officer was possessed of only one idea, which was to be in at the death. But a bitter disappointment was in store for him.
Corporal(pointing to the left rear). "Please, sir, there is the column."
The Intelligence officer could scarcely believe his eyes—the thought was too appalling, too ghastly to be true. It was true, nevertheless. Instead of arriving at the bridge, the column had lost direction, and, without an adequate guide or map, had become entangled among the hills. Lost, without forage or food, beast and man weary beyond expression, while De Wet was crossing the Riet over Kalabas bridge, the stopwhich should have been there was endeavouring to retrace its steps back to camp. As the Intelligence officer realised the truth great tears welled up to his eyes.
It was midnight before the mess servants could turn out a meal at Brandewijnskuil for the staff. Two doleful candles but added to the depression bred of the hour and the disappointment which was uppermost in every mind. We had had our chance and failed. The brigadier alone was philosophic: his natural gaiety would not allow of depression: his manly spirit would not collapse against the ruling of the laws of chance.
Brigadier."Wake up, you coves, and come and have some dinner. We have lost ole man De Wet; but that is no reason for you all to behave as if we were in for a funeral. Thank Heaven that you are alive. You would probably have all been scuppered if we had got up with the ole man. He would have fought until he was blue in the face!"
Brigade-Major."I've got the orders out, sir. Start at 3A.M.!"
Brigadier."That's all right, but we won'tsee any more of De Wet. We were too hot on him to-day. All we shall find when we cross the Riet at daybreak to-morrow will bespoorleading in every direction. They will dissolve to a certainty. But though we have failed, we have had a run for our money, and finished a d——d good second. But no maps and no guide are big things as penalties go, and, all considered, I think that the 'crush' has run devilish well. What have your prisoners got to say, Mr Intelligence?"
But Mr Intelligence, having drunk his soup, was sound asleep in his blankets....
[40]Another curious episode in this strange campaign can be observed here. We had been in nominal possession of the Southern Free State for many months, during a considerable period of which the local administration had been administered by British agents. Yet throughout this period Boer landrosts were also appointed, and whenever a commando strong enough to assert the Orange Free State authority was in the vicinity, immediately took over their duties. Often, it is believed, the same men acted for both belligerents. When Judge Hertzog made his tour of the South-Western Free State immediately before entering upon his invasion of the Colony, he reinstated the Boer administration in all the southern townships.
[40]Another curious episode in this strange campaign can be observed here. We had been in nominal possession of the Southern Free State for many months, during a considerable period of which the local administration had been administered by British agents. Yet throughout this period Boer landrosts were also appointed, and whenever a commando strong enough to assert the Orange Free State authority was in the vicinity, immediately took over their duties. Often, it is believed, the same men acted for both belligerents. When Judge Hertzog made his tour of the South-Western Free State immediately before entering upon his invasion of the Colony, he reinstated the Boer administration in all the southern townships.
[41]De Wet never moved without an advance-, flank-, and rear-guard, removed from him to a distance of about six to eight miles. This screen always gave him ample notice of any British troops in the vicinity, thus enabling him to change his direction and suit his action with calmness and deliberation. These screens were always composed of picked men.
[41]De Wet never moved without an advance-, flank-, and rear-guard, removed from him to a distance of about six to eight miles. This screen always gave him ample notice of any British troops in the vicinity, thus enabling him to change his direction and suit his action with calmness and deliberation. These screens were always composed of picked men.
With the crossing of the Riet the history of this De Wet hunt ceases, for everything came to pass precisely as the brigadier had foreseen. The brigade arrived at Kalabas bridge before daybreak, prepared, if a tangible enemy was still in front, to take up the running again and pursue the line to an end, no matter the cost.[42]But the soft ground on the far side of the river gave evidence of thirty trails. The commando had scattered to the winds, and as, with cunning foresight, De Wet and his following had removed every living soul, Boeror Kaffir, from the vicinity of the bridge, no evidence of his presence remained. To pursue a fugitive in a solitary Cape cart with a brigade would have been absurd, and so, when five miles on at Openbaar there was no sign of the solitary tracks again converging, the chase was abandoned, and the brigade halted to await the arrival of its mule and ox convoy. That evening Plumer, who had detrained at Jagersfontein road, crossed the Kalabas bridge and reported Haig to be in rear of him at the Spitz Kopjes. It will be seen therefore that Plumer was twenty-four hours too late,—through no fault of his, be it said, but simply because he made the journey from Orange River station by train. Plumer pushed on upon the conjectured De Wet trail, which he still considered hot enough to follow. He lost it, as the brigadier had foreseen, in the vicinity of Abraham's Kraal. The new cavalry brigade moved more slowly into Bloemfontein by way of Petrusburg and the historic field of Driefontein.
At Bloemfontein some changes took place in the staff and composition of the brigade, and the writer of this narrative, to his infiniteregret, severed his connection with the brigade. He had been promoted into a new battalion which was being raised at home, and after twenty months his turn had come to say good-bye to the veldt. As the brigadier bade him farewell in the Bloemfontein Club he clapped him good-naturedly on the back, saying, "I believe that it is all a hoax this story of yours about instructions to proceed home by the first transport. I don't believe that you will ever get farther South than that farm at Richmond Road!"
[42]The orders issued this night to the brigade were very instructive, and showed what a real soldier the brigadier was. If he considered that the circumstances demanded an effort he was prepared to take any risk and to make every sacrifice. The orders stated that if it became necessary to pursue, the convoy would be sent back by the shortest route to the railway, that the mounted men would have to live on the country without supply, and such men whose horses gave in would have to walk east against the course of the sun, which line, after 20 to 25 miles, would bring them to the railway, where they could stop the first passing train.
[42]The orders issued this night to the brigade were very instructive, and showed what a real soldier the brigadier was. If he considered that the circumstances demanded an effort he was prepared to take any risk and to make every sacrifice. The orders stated that if it became necessary to pursue, the convoy would be sent back by the shortest route to the railway, that the mounted men would have to live on the country without supply, and such men whose horses gave in would have to walk east against the course of the sun, which line, after 20 to 25 miles, would bring them to the railway, where they could stop the first passing train.
WORDS BY AN EYEWITNESS:THE STRUGGLE IN NATAL.
Eleventh Impression. With a new Preface.Crown 8vo, 6s.
"Among the many books which have found their birth in the campaign against the Boers, this one stands out, not merely on account of the author's literary merits, keen power of observation, and attractive phraseology, but in its unprejudiced sentiments and clever handling of battle impressions hitherto unattempted by contemporary writers. It is the work of an artist."—Times.
"Among the many books which have found their birth in the campaign against the Boers, this one stands out, not merely on account of the author's literary merits, keen power of observation, and attractive phraseology, but in its unprejudiced sentiments and clever handling of battle impressions hitherto unattempted by contemporary writers. It is the work of an artist."—Times.
THE MECHANISM OF WAR.
Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.
"The new writer best worth talking about is 'Linesman.' He comes with no tricks of style to entrance mercurial critics. A style he has, but lit is inseparable from his matter, and that is his own. It is a satisfaction to find a new writer who has something to say and says it in a manner that cannot be imitated by the rapt connoisseurs of cake-walk writing; but it is not a surprise, for 'Linesman's' theme is War, and he is equal to it."—Academy."Throughout the book we recognise a mind which seizes on the essentials, and sees things in their true proportion,—a mind which, while it never loses sight of the whole, knows which details to enforce so that the reader may grasp that whole too."—Spectator.
"The new writer best worth talking about is 'Linesman.' He comes with no tricks of style to entrance mercurial critics. A style he has, but lit is inseparable from his matter, and that is his own. It is a satisfaction to find a new writer who has something to say and says it in a manner that cannot be imitated by the rapt connoisseurs of cake-walk writing; but it is not a surprise, for 'Linesman's' theme is War, and he is equal to it."—Academy.
"Throughout the book we recognise a mind which seizes on the essentials, and sees things in their true proportion,—a mind which, while it never loses sight of the whole, knows which details to enforce so that the reader may grasp that whole too."—Spectator.
THE ADVENTURES OF M. D'HARICOT.ByJ. Storer Clouston, Author of 'The Lunatic at Large,' &c. Second Impression.EPISODES OF RURAL LIFE.ByW.E.W. Collins, Author of 'A Scholar of his College,' 'The Don and the Undergraduate,' &c.A WOMAN AND A CREED.ByH. Garton Sargent.THE COLONEL SAHIB. A Novel.ByGarrett Mill. Second Impression.MONSIEUR MARTIN: A Romance of the Great Swedish War.ByWymond Carey."Deserves to be called a great novel.... A book of sterling merits, wholesome human interest, and adequate learning."—Guardian.THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY.BySydney C. Grier, Author of 'The Kings of the East,' 'Peace with Honour,' &c."This clever novel. It is well worth reading."—Outlook.THE MOST FAMOUS LOBA.ByNellie K. Blissett, Author of 'Wisdom of the Simple,' 'Brass,' &c. With a Frontispiece."Told with a grace and simplicity truly exquisite.... The intricacies of the story cannot be traced here, still less is it possible to suggest its incommunicable charm."—Daily Chronicle.JOE WILSON AND HIS MATES.ByHenry Lawson, Author of 'The Country I Come From,' 'While the Billy Boils,' &c."A volume of realistic stories of Bush-life.... Will be eagerly read by men and women who have experienced the loneliness and the roughness of the needy emigrant's part."—Spectator.BUSH-WHACKING.ByHugh Clifford, C.M.G.Second Impression."The stories reach a masterly level of vivid colouring, wide sympathy, and genuine insight."—Athenæum.DOOM CASTLE.ByNeil Munro. Second Impression."Since 'Catriona' and 'Kidnapped' there has been no Scottish novel of more unmistakable genius."—British Weekly.LORD JIM. A Tale.ByJoseph Conrad. Second Impression."A most original, remarkable, and engrossing novel."—Spectator.
THE ADVENTURES OF M. D'HARICOT.ByJ. Storer Clouston, Author of 'The Lunatic at Large,' &c. Second Impression.
EPISODES OF RURAL LIFE.ByW.E.W. Collins, Author of 'A Scholar of his College,' 'The Don and the Undergraduate,' &c.
A WOMAN AND A CREED.ByH. Garton Sargent.
THE COLONEL SAHIB. A Novel.ByGarrett Mill. Second Impression.
MONSIEUR MARTIN: A Romance of the Great Swedish War.ByWymond Carey.
"Deserves to be called a great novel.... A book of sterling merits, wholesome human interest, and adequate learning."—Guardian.
THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY.BySydney C. Grier, Author of 'The Kings of the East,' 'Peace with Honour,' &c.
"This clever novel. It is well worth reading."—Outlook.
THE MOST FAMOUS LOBA.ByNellie K. Blissett, Author of 'Wisdom of the Simple,' 'Brass,' &c. With a Frontispiece.
"Told with a grace and simplicity truly exquisite.... The intricacies of the story cannot be traced here, still less is it possible to suggest its incommunicable charm."—Daily Chronicle.
JOE WILSON AND HIS MATES.ByHenry Lawson, Author of 'The Country I Come From,' 'While the Billy Boils,' &c.
"A volume of realistic stories of Bush-life.... Will be eagerly read by men and women who have experienced the loneliness and the roughness of the needy emigrant's part."—Spectator.
BUSH-WHACKING.ByHugh Clifford, C.M.G.Second Impression.
"The stories reach a masterly level of vivid colouring, wide sympathy, and genuine insight."—Athenæum.
DOOM CASTLE.ByNeil Munro. Second Impression.
"Since 'Catriona' and 'Kidnapped' there has been no Scottish novel of more unmistakable genius."—British Weekly.
LORD JIM. A Tale.ByJoseph Conrad. Second Impression.
"A most original, remarkable, and engrossing novel."—Spectator.
Typographical errors corrected in text:Page 195: Dewetsdrop replaced with DewetsdorpPage 257: directy replaced with directlyOn page 321, the word battue is not a typographical error. A battue is a hunt in which beaters force the game to flee in the direction of the hunter.
Typographical errors corrected in text:
On page 321, the word battue is not a typographical error. A battue is a hunt in which beaters force the game to flee in the direction of the hunter.