CHAPTER XX—AND LAST
WAR!—VIOLATION OF BRITISH TERRITORY AT NAKOB—THE END.
We left Upington on Thursday, July 30th, 1914. The bi-weekly post had just arrived, and papers from the outside world brought the news of the ominous war-cloud gathering in Europe. It seemed like looking for trouble to start for the border of German territory at such a time; and half in jest, I remarked as much to the polyglot gathering at the door of the hotel who had gathered to see me start.
“It’s quite likely by the time I get to the border we shall be at war with Germany!” I remarked, and there was a chorus of protest.
England might be—but they? What was it to do with them? They were willing to make money out of either side of the border, and for many reasons preferred being British in name, but if it came to fighting, that was quite another matter!
But in those days most of the “British” in Upington were Russian Jews, and most of the Dutchmen “Nationalists,” whose conception of their duty to Empire was to take all they could get and give nothing in return. There was also a large German element in the village, and a large amount of German money alwaysen evidence; in fact, the “mark” had the purchasing power of a shilling in every store, and except in the bank or post-office English silver was never seen. Anyway, I was far too anxious to get back to my neglected prospects to “wait and see,” for I had a number of men eating their heads off at Nakob; and so away we went onone of the bitterest trips I remember. It was an open waggon, without cover of any kind, and a bitterly cold wind and driving rain set in within a few hours of our leaving the dorp; the jolting of the springless vehicle over the rough track shook my half-healed ribs till I was one big ache from head to foot; it rained nearly all night as we crouched over the blinding smoke of a cow-dung fire at the bleak outspan, and altogether I began to think I had been a fool to leave the shelter of a roof. However, on the third day out the sun shone, and I climbed into the saddle again. A few hours of trotting and I was a different man; for there is no medicine like the sunshine and a good horse. We were too cold to linger by the way, and trekked at all hours through the lonely and desolate wastes of Van Rooi’s Vley, Rooi Dam, Lootz’s Pits, and Cnydas, wild and remote places scarce known even in Upington, but all of them to become prominent a month or two later as the scene of Maritz’s first open treachery. So cold was it at night that the hoar-frost gathered thick on our blankets till it looked like snow, and ice stood in the buckets beside us. I had not been able to lie down since my accident, but at Longklip I at length ventured to do so, and had the first real rest for three weeks or more.
Late at night on Tuesday, August 4th, we arrived at Nakob, and in the morning the police told us that war had already been declared between Germany and France, and that there had been heavy fighting on the Belgian border. This news was from the German police over the border, for we ourselves brought the latest news from our own distant news centre. Speculation was rife as to whether England would be drawn in or not, and the three troopers at our lonely little post, relying for news on a possible enemy over the border, were anxious and uneasy at what I was able to tell them.
However, war or no war, they had their routine duty to do, and on the morning of August 6th, Troopers Hall and Green left for Upington with aprisoner, leaving young Human, a young Dutch trooper from Kakamas, and quite a boy, in sole charge of the lonely post. For they had no other means of dealing with prisoners—no lock-up but their own living and sleeping room, and as one man alone could not guard a prisoner night and day over the long journey to headquarters, the major portion of the “garrison” had to escort him.
Meanwhile, having found my gang of “boys” still in existence, I set them to work in earnest, for I was too near German territory to feel comfortable, and I this time pitched my camp at the base of the escarpment about a mile only from the police post, and in sight of it. Finding it impossible to properly cope with the problem of dragging sufficient water to the pipe to “wash” the blue ground there, I adopted the plan of bringing the latter down to the level; but on the 8th the young trooper rode up to my camp to show me a “dispatch” which a galloper had brought out the forty-odd miles from Zwartmodder. It was to warn the police that war with Germany was imminent, and that they must be on their guard against “covert acts” against their patrols. Poor boy, he spoke English well, but scarcely understood the official language of the document; as for the patrols—well, he was absolutely alone! His nearest mate was at Zwartmodder, over forty-odd miles of bad road away, and from whence the message had been brought.
He had no other white man near him but ourselves, and we knew that barely eighteen miles away there was a garrison of two hundred Germans, not to mention the police along the actual border. The dispatch appeared to point to a possible raid on him at any moment, and we offered to stand by him till help arrived, as it surely would. Meanwhile we were working on the very edge of German territory, and our camp stood within a stone’s throw of it; our horses and cattle were in the habit of ranging over it at their sweet will, for there was no fence or actual boundary, and as the news spread amongstthe “boys” I had hard work to keep them from bolting. We worked feverishly all the next morning, German patrols passing in full view of us, but not molesting us. Meanwhile another trooper had arrived from Kakamas with the news that war had been declared on the previous Thursday. Fugitive Hottentots were now stealing over the border, and the news they brought appeared to point to a possible raid by the Germans, who had now forced their own farmers all along the border to drive their cattle twenty kilometres inland. Our own “boys,” who had gone to look for the strayed horses, were chased for a couple of miles into our territory; and as we now heard that the well-disposed German mounted police who had been stationed along the border had been withdrawn, and their place taken by regular troops from Ukamas, we were more on thequi vivethan ever. Still, I kept the gang hard at it, knowing that I could only work a few days unless the strong reinforcements we naturally expected were soon forthcoming. Meanwhile Hall and Green returned from Upington, and a further man came in from Kakamas, so the little garrison was now five men strong.
They had scarcely enough rations to keep them going, and were in hourly expectation of the arrival of a force of some kind to hold the line. The position of the little police hut could scarcely have been worse, from a defensive point of view. It was commanded on all sides by rocky, bush-clad ridges, in which ten thousand Germans could have hidden, and barely a quarter of a mile away, in German territory, rose a formidablespitz kop(conical hill), from the summit of which every approach to the British post could have been commanded. The place could have been rushed at any moment. The trooper in charge told me that his orders were to do nothing to provoke hostilities, and if attacked, to make no attempt to hold the post, but to fall back on Zwartmodder—forty miles away—where there were two men! But he realised only too well that,should such an attack be made, he would have no earthly chance of getting away.
But we all fully expected a column to turn up to garrison this important—though neglected—little post; and day after day one of the men would ride to the high hills eastward, from which the roads to Upington could be seen for many miles, but there came no sign—no news; in fact, Nakob seemed to have been forgotten.
Meanwhile my friend Ford-Smith wandered round with a Remington rifle, in the gullies along our side of the border, practising at korhaan and dassies, and wishing they were Germans. He borrowed military buttons from the police, and put them on his shirt, to save himself from being shot as afranctireurshould it come to a scrap; but—luckily for us—he had no chance of an outlet for his martial ardour, except one night when my old horse strayed back into the camp from somewhere over the German side at dead of night, and narrowly escaped annihilation at his hands. Those nights were extremely jumpy, for, as I have explained, we were within a stone’s throw of enemy territory, an attack on the police camp was believed to be imminent, and that we should have shared in the trouble was beyond question. However, each morning we were able to flash “All’s Well” with a mirror to each other, for the Germans still held their hand. Of course all communication between the two territories had ceased from the time that the outbreak of war was notified, but news still filtered through by means of natives, and spies were constantly coming amongst the Bastard and Hottentot hangers-on of the police post.
MonolithGRANITE MONOLITH AT “LANGKLEP.”Afterwards the scene of a fight with Maritz.
GRANITE MONOLITH AT “LANGKLEP.”Afterwards the scene of a fight with Maritz.
GRANITE MONOLITH AT “LANGKLEP.”
Afterwards the scene of a fight with Maritz.
WaterpitWATER-PITS IN THE DRY MOLOPO AT NAKOB.Where Maritz broke into rebellion.
WATER-PITS IN THE DRY MOLOPO AT NAKOB.Where Maritz broke into rebellion.
WATER-PITS IN THE DRY MOLOPO AT NAKOB.
Where Maritz broke into rebellion.
They could not be caught, but their constant inquiry was as to when the “troops” would arrive, though on this point they could have got scant information, for we were as ignorant and anxious as themselves! From a few legitimate stragglers who succeeded in evading the German police and getting over, we heard of the movements of troops,and it seemed fairly certain that the border police had been withdrawn from German Nakob, and that an officer, with twenty-five men and a machine-gun, had taken their place. The constant rumours of an impending attack made it impossible to keep the “boys” at their work, and as no news came of reinforcements, I had at length no alternative but to abandon the work and clear out.
On the morning of Saturday, August 15th, I washed my last load, dismantled the windlasses, and brought the light tools and gear down from the mine. As I went up to take a last look round, two of the troopers rode up from the post, and I took them to the international beacon on the edge of the escarpment, near where I had been working, and pointed out to them the whole line of these infrequent boundary-posts through the wild, solitary, pathless country south, towards my old prospecting-ground in the Noup Hills, near the Orange. They were new men, and did not know where the actual boundary lay in that direction. The day was scorching-hot and clear, and I was able to pick out many of the actual cairns, but on the whole vast expanse not a solitary soul could be seen on either territory. We had hoped to locate the German patrols, but unfortunately their post at Nakob was hidden by low ranges, as it lay in a sand-river below the general level of the country, though its position was easily identified by a prominent and abrupt granite kopje which stood in close proximity to it, but on British territory—the international beacons being plainly visible slightly to the westward of its base.
This bold hill was indeed the most striking landmark for many miles, and though I had never climbed it, I had passed its base often on either side, and believed that it must command a view of the German police post. I therefore suggested that we should make our way there that afternoon, when we could not only find out the strength of the Germans at the post, but possibly get some photos of them.
The troopers agreed, and later I rode down to thecamp with them, left my horse there, and as none of them would accompany me I went on alone, promising to flash a signal to them when I got on top. Naturally I had nothing to fear, for I had no intention of going into German territory or of letting the Germans see me, and I took care to leave my arms at the camp, so that, should their patrols catch me, I had nothing more incriminating than a camera, and a little shaving-mirror to signal with.
I had about two miles to go, making a slight detour to keep in cover of the thickmelk-bosch, and aiming at keeping the hill between me and the Germans. I again noted the beacons; there was no doubt as to the whole hill being in our territory.
Within about a hundred yards of its base the bush ceased, and there was that distance of open sand to cross before I could get cover again; so I lay and watched, but there was no sign of a living being anywhere, and I scooted across and got among the big granite boulders, where I felt perfectly safe. Working cautiously upwards, I got about half-way to the top when, to my astonishment, I came upon a well-beaten track where horses had been taken up and down, and whilst I was still staring open-mouthed at the fresh spoors, I found that I was within a yard of a rough, loopholed schanz of rock, overlooking and commanding our territory! I knew our men had never been in the hill, and that it must have been made by the Germans, and I stood stock-still, expecting rifles to show through the loopholes at any moment. However, there was neither sound nor sign, and I crept on more carefully than ever, finding that the whole place had been strengthened with these schanzes, which were on British territory, and which commanded British territory for miles. At the top, surrounded by titanic boulders the size of a four-roomed cottage, there was a Hat space about 40 feet square, where there was every sign of recent occupation—well-trampled paths, freshly broken stones, tools, and the still smouldering embersof a fire; whilst between the huge boulders schanzes had been built or were nearing completion. There had been a large number of men in the hill but recently, and they would undoubtedly return—indeed, there were probably some of them in the hill then! I crept to the edge overlooking German territory, and could see the top of the police post, with the German flag flying, about 500 yards away westward, and a number of men and horses passing between a gap in that direction towards the water-pits, which, however, were not visible. I had but three films in my camera, and I took them as quickly as possible, for I felt sure there was a sentry there somewhere; and sure enough, as I peered over the rocks down the western slope, I saw a solitary soldier coming up between the rocks, turning and motioning as though to others behind him. And I got down and into the bush like a scared klip-springer; for these men, who had violated our territory, and were strengthening a position which commanded every approach for miles, were scarcely likely to show much ceremony to an Englishman found with a camera in the middle of their schanzes!
And I had hardly got into the friendlymelk-boschthe other side of that awful bare hundred yards of sand at the base of the hill, when I saw them moving among the rocks at the top, where I had just left, and the sunshine glinting on rifle-barrels. I got back to the police camp as soon as I could, and told the police what I had seen, which by no means lessened their anxiety. They knew already that, failing the arrival of a strong force, they were simply like rats in a trap, and this violation of British territory, this seizing and strengthening of what was naturally the strongest position near Nakob, boded ill for the forlorn little outpost of five men. Moreover, should a force be on its way from either Upington or Kakamas, it would be in sight of this high kopje and the Germans for hours before we knew anything about it, and might very possibly choose the old route, which led within a few hundredyards of the schanzes, and would thus walk right into an ambuscade.
None of the troopers could be spared to take a message, so it was decided, as soon as I could get my waggon well on the road, I should ride on to Upington and take the news myself. The garrison (?) of five slept away from the post, leaving it after dark and bivouacking in the hills.
On Sunday, there being still no sign of a relief force and no news, I loaded my waggon and struck camp, making up my mind to ride before daybreak next day, so that the Germans should not see that a messenger had left the camp.
That night there was an alarm amongst the Bastards and Hottentots at the police camp, all of them fleeing to the hills, for a spy who had been in the camp had warned them an attack was imminent.
The troopers lay on their arms at my waggon all night, but no attack came; though in the morning the tell-tale sand showed where a patrol of the enemy had stood awaiting the return of their spy within fifty yards of our post, and by the spoors one of them had stood listening at the window. Our poor young troopers were in a most unenviable position. Their stores were exhausted, the waggon with their monthly supplies was many days overdue and might probably never arrive at all, they had no news or means of communication, they knew they were at the mercy of the Germans whenever they cared to attack, and yet they were bound to stick to their post. I left them a few spare stores I had, and in return they gave me the last few pounds of oats they had for my horse; there would be no time to look for food along the road.
And so we bade them good-bye, and lumbered along with the heavy waggon till the hills hid us from the watchful eyes of the Germans on that big granite kopje in British territory, which should have been held by British troops as soon as possible after war was declared.
Behind the kopjes in Bak River I blew up all mydynamite, just to give the Germans something to think about, and leaving Ford-Smith and the remnant of my gang to follow slowly with the waggon, I set the old nag on the long lonely trail for Upington. For the whole day I rode without seeing a solitary wayfarer, and night surprised me near the Molopo at Toeslan, where I had hoped to sleep; so I lay amongst the thorn-trees by a big fire, roasting and freezing by turns, for the night was bitterly cold, and I rode light without coat or blanket. Next day I met one or two people, but no one had heard of troops for the border, and all I could hope was that, if they had gone by another road, they would not walk into an ambush at the big granite kopje.
Much of the journey of eighty-odd miles was through heavy sand and rough, rocky country, and it was nearly midnight of the second night when I crawled into Upington, both myself and the pony dead-beat, for he had eaten nothing but a handful of oats all day, and the two days of hard riding had again loosened my badly glued ribs.
I reported to the O.C. of the “S.A.M.R.,” but he had no reinforcements to send, and knew no more of what was to happen on the border than did the poor little “garrison” at Nakob! Meanwhile my sworn statement was wired to Pretoria, where they took a serious view of the matter.
And so far, for a season, my prospecting ended, for even my humble little bark, used to floating on lonely seas or in placid backwaters, had been caught in the maelstrom of the War.
Note.—The post at Nakob was never relieved—Maritz and Beyers saw to that—and a full month later the place was attacked by Andries de Wet and 300 Germans with machine-guns, the hut riddled with bullets, Corporal Spencer killed, young Human’s jaw blown away, and the rest of the “garrison” marched as prisoners into German territory. Rietfontein and Obopogorop had to be abandoned, andfor a time the Gordonia border was left to the mercy of Andries de Wet and his renegade and German followers, until, a few weeks later, Maritz broke into open rebellion at Cnydas, where amongst other civilians he took my friend Ford-Smith a prisoner, and sent him to a long captivity in German South-West.—F. C. Cornell.
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