But these movements were not executed without heavy loss. Twice the Seaforths sprang to their feet and advanced by rushes at the trenches. Some even made their way to within a few yards of them. But it was light now. The officers were shot down and the men decimated, and each time the survivors sullenly fell back. For three hours they lay upon the ground near the spot where they had been attacked. No help came to them, for incomprehensibly this brigade had been sent forward alone, and without reserves, to attack the whole force of the Boers in an immensely strong position. Some of the artillery had, however, advanced with great boldness, and their fire to some extent relieved the pressure. The Boers had now pushed along the low bush-covered hill between Magersfontein and the river, and had opened a flanking fire on the Highlanders. At seven o'clock Lord Airlie brought up the 12th Lancers, dismounted two squadrons, and, aided by a battery of horse artillery, who pressed forward to within two hundred yards of the fighting line, and took up their position on the right of the Highland Brigade, to some extent checked the fire from that quarter.
Two hours later the brigade of Guards came up. Two battalions of the Coldstreams occupied the ground next to the dismounted men. The Grenadiers prolonged the line until they were in touch with the Yorkshires, who were guarding the drift across the Modder River. The other half battalion took up a post by the three batteries, which had stationed themselves in rear of the Highland Brigade. Still farther to the left was the naval gun near the railway, which was protected from an attack in that direction by the Northamptons, while a Howitzer battery further in advance joined it in maintaining a heavy cannonade. At mid—day the Gordons arrived to support the Highlanders, who all these hours were lying within two or three hundred yards of the Boer trenches unable to move, while their foes were unwilling to risk taking the offensive. They had several times threatened to do so, but the fire of the Horse Artillery guns had each time caused them to abandon their intention.
At two in the afternoon the Boer fire, which had somewhat slackened, again broke out fiercely to the left. It appeared that an attacking force was at hand, and the men of the Highland Brigade, parched with thirst, unnerved by the fearful ordeal they had gone through, burned and blistered by the sun, staggered back, losing heavily, and little by little retired until they reached the line of the guns, three-quarters of a mile in their rear. They straggled in ingroups, regiments mixed up together. Here they halted, and the few officers who remained alive did their utmost to restore order and cohesion. Not until five o'clock in the afternoon was this accomplished, when, just as they were about to advance again, the Boer batteries, which had strangely enough been silent all day, opened fire. A shell exploded a short distance away from the brigade, and at once they broke down again. The officers in vain endeavoured to restrain them; the men could not be rallied until they reached the field hospital camp.
For once nature had overcome the dauntless spirit of some of the finest soldiers in the world. For thirteen hours they had been under a tremendous fire; during that time they had been practically without orders. Their beloved general had fallen, together with many of the senior officers; but even if these had lived it would have been impossible to send orders from point to point, or to arrange for any general action, since the slightest movement of position was certain to attract a rain of bullets. They were, in fact, bewildered and dazed by the roar of musketry so terrible and unexpected, the heavy losses, the impossibility of movement, still more of getting at their foes. Their inability to do aught but suffer had broken them down. It speaks highly indeed for the discipline and courage of these soldiers that at Paardeberg they should have entirely recovered their morale, and have shown their old conspicuous bravery, unsurpassed by that of any other regiment.
The brigade of Guards maintained their position all night. They had covered the retreat of the Highlanders, and now prevented the Boers from taking the offensive, and held their post until they were next morning recalled to camp. They then drew off, suffering somewhat severely as they did so, under a heavy artillery fire.
The losses in the Highland Brigade were fifteen officers and one hundred and twenty-two men killed, thirty-one officers, four hundred and twenty-one men wounded, two officersand one hundred and ten men missing. The Boer loss was caused almost entirely by our artillery fire, as some of the guns had been able to sweep portions of their trenches. Their official account gave it as seventy killed and two hundred and three wounded, but an intercepted letter placed it very much higher, and reported their loss at from twelve hundred to fifteen hundred.
CHAPTER XII
A PRISONER
It was a dreary time in camp during the two days when the operation of collecting and burying the dead was going on. The stillness which prevailed was in strong contrast with the activity and cheerfulness which reigned before the battle. Then the men had joked and laughed in anticipation of the success they confidently expected, now they moved about silently. Not only were they grieving over the heavy losses, and sympathizing deeply with the Highland regiments, which had suffered so terribly, but all felt that the attempt could not be renewed, and that they were doomed to a long period of inaction until large reinforcements could arrive.
General Gatacre had suffered a very heavy reverse at Stormberg on the day before Magersfontein was fought. He had made a long night march in hopes of surprising the Boers, but by the treachery or ignorance of his guides, and the fact that the Boers had been apprised of his intention by rebel sympathizers, he had himself fallen into an ambush. Everything had, indeed, from the first, gone wrong. The intention of the general had been allowed to leak out two days previously, and thus the large portion of the population who were disloyal had ample time to warn the Boers at Stormberg. The trucks in which the troops were to beconveyed as far as Molteno were not assembled at the time named, and two hours were therefore lost. A portion of the column missed their way in the dark, and were miles distant from the main force when the fight began. Lastly, instead of the troops being allowed perfect rest during the day before starting on an expedition which demanded all their strength and vigour, they had been up early, and spent hours under arms, going through the fatigue of a field day; and so worn-out were they when the time for action arrived; that many fell asleep while the battle was raging.
Thus, as the Boers were posted in an inaccessible position, the action was a massacre rather than a fight, and had it not been for the splendid bravery of the artillerymen, the whole force would have been killed or forced to surrender. The loss in killed and wounded was not great, the casualties being under one hundred, but six hundred men of the Irish Rifles and the Northumberlands were taken prisoners, and two guns lost. The large number of captives was due to two causes. First, in their attempt to get at the enemy, some of the troops had climbed the rock to a point where further advance was impossible, and retreat, under the tremendous fire maintained upon them, meant certain death. Secondly, many were overpowered by fatigue and want of sleep, staggered out of the ranks during the retreat, and, dropping on the ground, slept until they woke to find themselves prisoners.
There was yet further bad news to come, for, four days after Magersfontein, Buller was defeated in his attempt to force the Boer lines, guns were lost, and there was a heavy death-roll. It was no consolation to the men who had fought at Magersfontein to know that they were not alone in misfortune, and that similar reverses had been encountered in Natal and Cape Colony.
The question that each asked the other was, what would they say in England? Would the same craven policy that had prevailed after Majuba be adopted, and another surrender be made to the Boers? or would the nation show the energy that had in old times been evinced when danger was greatest, and rise to the occasion? Even in that case, many weeks must elapse before sufficient reinforcements could arrive from England to enable them to take the offensive again; for that another advance against the Boer position was impossible even the most sanguine had to admit.
The whole force were now gathered on the Modder, and they had no fear that the Boers would be able to drive them from it. But this was but a poor consolation. All were burning to retrieve the last defeat, and it was gall and wormwood to know that they would be forced to remain inactive. In the camp of the Scottish regiments the feeling was bitter in the extreme. Now that the long agony of the conflict, which had broken down the nerve of the strongest, was over, they felt that they had to some extent tarnished the reputation of regiments which had hitherto been without a blemish, and the blame was thrown by them, not on the general whom they so loved, but upon Lord Methuen. The imputation was an unfounded one. The task before Lord Methuen was one of enormous difficulty. The point he had selected for attack was the best that could have been chosen. The only fault committed by him was, that he did not risk the lives of a few mounted men, by sending small parties out to reconnoitre the veldt to the foot of the kopjes, in order to discover the exact position of the Boer trenches.
His instructions had been clear. The force was to advance to within attacking position of the kopjes, and there to halt until daybreak. The arrangements for the advance of the brigade were, as always, left to the discretion of the brigadier. It was for him to send the advance guards to feel the way, and for him to order the heavy column to deploy into open order. These precautions were not taken by General Wauchope. A trap had been set, and he fell into that trap without taking any of the usual precautions, and he atoned for the mistake with his life. To the gallant regiments themselves no blame can be attributable for their failure. It is true that they broke down under the strain, but it may be doubted whether any soldiers in the world could have withstood it better. The surprise had been complete, and nearly five hundred men had fallen in a few minutes under that terrible fire, to which they could make no effective reply. They had maintained themselves all day under a blazing sun, with the ground round them torn up by bullets, and the slightest movement entailing certain death. Their consequent depression of spirits was increased by the exhaustion due to want of food and water. A great proportion of their officers had fallen, and there was no one to give them orders. It was not wonderful, then, that their nerves failed them, and that, when at the end of that awful day they gathered, the bursting of a shell near should have scattered like sheep soldiers who, in other circumstances, would have marched up to a cannon's mouth without flinching. It must be remembered, too, that the conduct of the Gordons, and the splendid bravery they showed, went far in itself to retrieve the high reputation of the Highland regiments.
Three days after Magersfontein, General Pole-Carew said to Yorke: "An officer with a patrol is going down the line to Graspan to see that the rails are clear for the train of wounded that will start later. I shall be obliged if you will go with them, and carry a despatch from Lord Methuen, giving particulars of the wounded who will come in by the train, and ordering medical comforts and fatigue parties to be in readiness; also a second despatch, with orders to the officer commanding there. After the attack they made on Belmont a few days ago, it is highly necessary to take every precaution against an attack at Graspan by the Boers from Jacobsdal. They are sure to be more active after their success here."
"Very well, sir. When does the party start?"
"In half an hour's time. The despatches will be ready for you in ten minutes. When you have received the reply,you need not wait for the party to return, but ride straight back."
"Very good, sir; I will return here in a quarter of an hour."
"Hans, I want my horse saddled at once," Yorke said, as he joined his follower.
"Yes, Master Yorke. Am I to saddle my own too?"
"No. I am only riding to Graspan with a despatch, and am joining a party who are going there to see that the line is in good order. I shall be back to dinner."
In a quarter of an hour Yorke, having received his despatches, rode off to the camp of the Lancers. The party was already prepared for a start. It consisted of an officer and twelve men. The former was already known to Yorke.
"I heard that you were going with us, Harberton," he said, as Yorke rode up. "I shall be glad of your company. It is dull work riding alone, especially when you have nothing to do but see that the rails have not been torn up in the night."
"I don't suppose there is much fear of that," Yorke replied, "for if the Boers had been there, they would have been sure to cut the telegraph wire, and they have not done so. I know that messages have been exchanged this morning."
"If they can communicate," the officer said, "I don't see why you should have been sent with a despatch."
"The lines and wires are so fully occupied by messages to De Aar and to the Cape, and backwards and forwards between the general and the home authorities, that they cannot be spared for details to Graspan; and personally, I would much rather be cantering over there and back than be idle in camp."
"That is just my feeling," the other said. "I am afraid that it will be a long time before we have much to do here. However, there is one comfort, we shall have a chance to get supplies from the base. They would not let us telegraph,so we have sent a man down to Cape Town with a long list of orders. Whether or not we shall get them through, I don't know. Now, if you are ready, I will start."
The order was given, and the party rode off at a trot.
"One feels quite glad to get out of camp," the officer said. "Everyone is so completely in the dumps that it is downright misery to remain there. However, I don't expect it will last very long. We shall cheer up a bit if we hear that the people at home are not disheartened, and are going to send out a big lot of troops and carry the thing through, whatever it costs."
"I have no doubt they will," Yorke said. "It is not often we back down because we have had a heavy blow. Look how we buckled to at the time of the Mutiny."
"I sincerely hope so," the officer said; "but one can never feel sure after the way we surrendered to the Boers before. It makes one sick to think of it even now. Still, three such blows as they have had in the course of a week are pretty hard to bear. However, let us hope that the whole country will harden their hearts and determine that the thing must be carried through."
So talking, they rode along until they came to a spot where the foot of one of the hills extended almost up to the line. Then there was a sudden shout. Some fifty Boers rose from behind the rocks, and a heavy volley was poured into the little party. The officer in command and seven of the troopers fell. Yorke's horse went down suddenly, shot through the head, and the other five troopers galloped on at full speed, the Boers keeping up an incessant fire upon them. Three fell, and but two rode on to Graspan. Yorke's leg was pinned under his fallen horse, and he made no effort to rise, for he knew that any motion would draw a dozen rifle-shots on him. When the firing had ceased the Boers came down.
"I surrender," Yorke said, as the first came up to him.
"Are you wounded?"
"No, except that my leg feels crushed under my horse. I would rather have been wounded myself than have lost him."
"You will have no occasion for him at present," the Boer said; and, calling two or three others to him, they raised the horse sufficiently to be able to drag Yorke out.
"The others are all dead," one of the Boers said. "Some of them got half a dozen bullets through them. This is an officer, isn't it?"
"Yes," Yorke replied, "I am a subaltern in the 9th Lancers, you can see the number on my shoulder-strap; and I carry a field-glass and revolver as well as a rifle."
"What is your name?"
"Yorke Harberton."
"Can you walk?"
"I don't think I can at present," Yorke said, "but I may be able to do so presently."
"That won't do," the man said. "We shall be having some of the cavalry from Graspan on us, as the two men who have got away will ride there with the news. However, we have got spare ponies behind the hill here. Two of you take this youngster, and carry him. I suppose you were not in command here?" he went on, as two men lifted Yorke from the ground and carried him off.
"No, that officer was in command."
"I see he is older than you. I suppose he was taking some message to Graspan?"
"He did not tell me," Yorke answered truthfully, "and it was not my business to ask him; but of course he must have had some orders. More troops are coming along—three or four hundred, I believe."
"Then, there is no time to lose. Hurry on, men! I will see if the officer has any despatches on him."
He rejoined the party just as they reached the ponies.
"Not a scrap of paper of any sort," he said. "He can only have had verbal orders. It won't do for us to carry outthe business we came here for, for they might be upon us before we had time to pull up half a dozen rails, and were we to try it they might catch us before we had time to get away. At any rate, we have done a good morning's work—ten men and an officer; we have got a prisoner, two pairs of field-glasses, two revolvers, and ten carbines."
Three hours' riding took the party to Jacobsdal. Yorke's leg had hurt a good deal on starting, but the pain had to a great extent gone off before reaching the town, and now he found he could walk. He had managed, as he rode, to tear up the despatches he had received, and had, one by one, chewed up the pieces and swallowed them. They could, even if discovered, have done no harm now; but had they been found at first, the Boers would no doubt have torn up the line, and might have caused an accident that would have been fatal to many of the wounded. Had he been asked the question, he must have produced them; but regarding him only as a young subaltern, they had not thought for a moment that, going with a senior officer, he would be trusted with despatches. He was, however, glad when he got rid of the last fragment, and still more so when, on being placed in the guard-room, he was searched from head to foot. He was supplied with food and treated with some consideration by the Boers, who were in high spirits at the three great successes they had gained.
"Why don't your soldiers give it up?" one of them asked him. "They must see by this time that they are no good against us. We would allow them to go down to the coast and embark on board ship without molesting them."
"There is an old saying with us," Yorke replied, "that a British soldier never knows when he is beaten; and though certainly we have been unfortunate lately, I can assure you that the idea that we are beaten for good has not occurred to any of us. We are angry at our defeats, but in no way disheartened. We consider that the war has only just begun yet, and have no doubt that twice as many men as are inSouth Africa now, will be sent out as soon as the ships can be got ready for them."
"Poor fellows!" the Boer said. "We hear that they have to be made drunk to get them on board ship, and those that won't drink have to be ironed."
"I am afraid," Yorke said, "that you hear a great many lies, and you may be quite sure that that is one of them. I can tell you the last news we had was that the Militia regiments, which are only raised for home service, and some even of the Volunteers, have sent in applications asking to be allowed to come out on service."
"Ah! they don't know what is before them, poor lads! Either death, or, if they escape that, imprisonment till the war is over and we allow them to go away. I do not say that your soldiers are not brave. They astonished us at Belmont and Graspan. But those were mere skirmishes."
"But we crossed the Modder in your teeth."
"Yes," the Boer admitted reluctantly, "it looked like it; but we did not want to stop you altogether there, only to encourage you to march against our real position at Spytfontein. We knew you had no chance there, and intended to annihilate you."
"Yes, but you did not do it," Yorke said with a smile. "We suffered heavily from blundering up against your trenches, of whose existence we knew nothing; but there was no annihilation about it. It is the opinion of many that if we had pushed forward all along the line in the afternoon, we should have won the position; at any rate, your men were very careful not to make a counter attack."
"We are only waiting for Ladysmith and Kimberley to fall," the Boer said; "then we shall all advance into Cape Colony, break up the railways, and, joined by the whole of the Dutch people, sweep all before us to Cape Town."
"It is a good programme," Yorke agreed; "but neither Ladysmith nor Kimberley have fallen yet."
"They cannot hold out much longer," the man replied."When the people of Kimberley learn that help has failed to come to them, they will not be fools enough to starve any longer. As for Ladysmith, it is as good as taken; the garrison cannot hold out many days longer. Then Joubert will advance with his whole army, and drive Buller down to the ships at Durban."
"Well, we shall see," Yorke said. "We are not likely to convince each other. Where do you send your prisoners to?"
"To Pretoria. A good many of them are already there—seven or eight hundred from Natal, six hundred from Stormberg—and this is only the beginning. We have a few others we picked up here; I expect you will all be sent off in a day or two. I don't think you will be badly off at first; but when we get Buller's men and the men here, safely stowed away, you will hardly be as well off, for I should say that there will be a difficulty in getting provisions for twenty thousand men or so. But perhaps there won't be so many, for I hear that we have killed over twenty thousand, and we have only lost twenty or thirty men."
"But I should think that at least you here cannot believe the last item," Yorke said. "Something like a hundred bodies have been fished out of the Modder, and there is no doubt that a still greater number were carried off the field. I don't say that you lost as heavily as we did; but when I say that you had two hundred killed, without counting Magersfontein, I feel sure that I am under the mark."
"Oh! there may be some mistake about the thirty," the Boer said with a grim smile. "Still, you have certainly lost a great many more than we have; even at Belmont and Graspan, though you did turn us out of our kopjes, you lost at least five to our one."
"That may be true enough. But a force attacking across the open must always lose more than men who shoot them down from behind rocks, and who have their horses close by on which they can gallop away as soon as they find that theyare getting the worst of it. If we ever get you in the open I fancy that your losses will be as heavy as ours."
"We should be fools if we let you," the Boer said. "We are too slim for that. We fight on our own ground."
"Yes; but if you invade Cape Colony, as you talk about, we shall be fighting on ground of our choosing, and you will find out the difference then."
Three days later Yorke started, with some fifteen other prisoners, one of whom was an officer, for Bloemfontein. They were placed in light carts and guarded by twenty Boers on horseback. The officer, who had been captured a fortnight before, said to Yorke after they had introduced themselves to each other:
"I am glad to meet someone who can give me a true account of what has taken place since I was captured. Of course I did not believe the Boer reports, but they were serious enough to make me feel very uneasy, for if there were any truth in them, even allowing for exaggeration, it certainly seemed that we must have been awfully cut up."
"The casualties have been heavy, but certainly not greater than would be expected, considering that the Boers held very strong positions, from which we turned them out three times. The fourth time, however, our attack failed. I can't tell you exactly the number of casualties, but I do not think altogether they exceeded one thousand six hundred, and of these nearly a thousand occurred in the last fight."
He then gave a full account of each battle.
"Thank you. It is bad enough that we have been stopped, and shall not be able to move again until reinforcements come up; still, it is not so bad as I feared. We certainly underrated the fighting power of the Boers; and the foreign engineer, who directs the making of their entrenchments, must be a very clever fellow, for that plan of making the trench well out in the plain in front of their kopjes was a capital one, and as far as I know quite new."
"Yes, there never was a more complete surprise; and although poor Wauchope fell into the trap, he can hardly be blamed for not taking precautions against an entirely new plan of defence. If it hadn't been for that I believe we should have captured the position without heavy loss, for once among the boulders on the hillside our troops could have fought their way up under partial shelter; and, as far as we have seen, the Boers do not attempt to make a stand when once we get near them."
"I am afraid Kimberley must fall," the officer, whose name was D'Arcy, said.
"I do not think that there is any fear of that. They have provisions enough to last them, if pushed to it, for three months."
"That is good news. But are you sure?"
"Quite, for I was there myself ten days ago."
"You were there? How on earth did you manage to get out?"
"I will tell you that to-night," Yorke laughed. "I have been talking steadily for the past two hours, and what with the heat and dust I don't feel in form to begin again now. I suppose we shall get to Bloemfontein the day after to-morrow; it is about eighty miles, I think."
"Somewhere about that, I suppose. From there we shall be sent up by train to Pretoria. It will be a pleasant change, for what with these carts and the Boers' horses we might as well be living in the middle of a dust-storm, except that we can keep our hats on our heads."
They were indeed heartily glad when they arrived at Bloemfontein. They were taken direct to the railway-station where a number of the prisoners captured at Stormberg were confined, and on the following morning the whole party started by train to Pretoria. There were several officers, and these were all placed in a carriage by themselves. They had been permitted to buy tobacco at Bloemfontein. Having now recovered to some extent from their disgust at beingmade prisoners, they were disposed to view things in a more cheerful light. As Yorke was the only one among them who had been with Methuen's column, all were anxious to hear his account of what had happened on that side, and he had again to repeat his story of the fights and of his journey to Kimberley.
"You were in the action at Magersfontein?" one said. "I suppose that as you were on the staff you did not see very much of it."
"Not much. But I was sent with a message to Lord Airlie, and when he ordered the two squadrons of the 12th Lancers to go forward to cover the flank of the Highland Brigade I followed them for some distance, and remained near until the Horse Artillery came up to the support, and the Coldstreams and Grenadiers took up the line between the Highlanders and the river. I afterwards carried messages twice to the Highland Brigade. Still, of course, I saw nothing of the early fighting, if it can be called fighting, for the Scotchmen were all lying down, and but few shots were returned on their part to the storm of bullets which passed over their heads, for every shot was sure to be answered by a dozen rifles from the Boer trenches. My escape was a miracle. My horse was grazed twice, my saddle was struck, and I had two bullet-holes through my clothes, and one through my helmet. I did not remain long, you may be sure. I saw that the Highlanders were showing no signs of giving way, and that the Boers seemed equally unwilling to advance. That was the principal object of my mission. As for finding out who was the officer in command, it was impossible. No man knew anything of what was passing ten yards from him. Some said they believed all the officers were killed. This, of course, was not so; but, as I afterwards learned, no fewer than forty-six officers fell, for the most part in the first terrible outburst of fire. Now, will you tell me about Stormberg?"
"There is very little to tell," the other officer said bitterly. "The fact that we were going to make a night attack was known in the camp the night before, and of course the Boers heard of it; and when we arrived at daybreak—after wandering about completely worn out and exhausted by what was really a five or six hours' march, but seemed like a month—a tremendous fire was poured in upon us. Some of us dashed up the hill on one side, some up the other. The place, however, was inaccessible, and we were being shot down without any power to retaliate. The order came to retreat. A great many of us were lying under the shelter of a perpendicular rock, which we could not leave without being exposed to the fire of the Boers above us and those on the opposite side. If the men had been fresh, the effort would have been made, but they were too worn-out and dispirited, and so we were captured. The guns and the Irish Rifles covered the retreat of the rest. But if the Boers had been as enterprising as they were crafty they might have cut the whole off, and not a man would have returned to Molteno to tell the story.
"It was a sickening business altogether; we made blunder upon blunder. The order for the march should not have been issued until we were paraded. The troops should have rested all day and taken food with them. The trucks should have been ready for us to entrain when we marched down to the railway. We ought to have had better guides. There ought to have been an advance-guard a quarter of a mile ahead. It was known that the Boer position was strong, and that the enemy were at least as numerous as we were, so we should have been brought up to fight fresh and in good condition, instead of being exhausted, fagged out, and dispirited by a tedious night march. Altogether our business seems to have been very much like yours at Magersfontein, where you were surprised just as we were, and where the men were already exhausted from want of food, a night spent in the pouring rain and a dispiriting night march. I hope to Heaven when the next fight takes place that there will be nomore of this night marching, but that the troops will have a chance of going into action fresh, well fed, and in good condition. Even in a flat country, without obstacles, a night march is always a very ticklish business, as you found at Belmont, where, as you say, the regiments lost their bearing and attacked the wrong hills. But in a hilly country, with bad maps and guides of doubtful honesty, it is almost certain to lead to disaster."
After twenty-four hours of tedious travelling the train arrived at Pretoria, and the officers were marched off to one prison and the men to another. The building was a small one, but some huts had been erected in the yard. The prison already contained the officers who had been captured at Nicholson's Nek in Natal, and the first batch of those taken at Stormberg, and hearty greetings were exchanged by their companions in misfortune, who pressed eagerly round asking for news. It took some time to exhaust the budget, and although the news was far from good, they were well satisfied, for they too had heard the most exaggerated reports of the Boer victories from their guards.
"Now," the new-comers asked, "how do you get on here?"
"We are fairly well fed, but a good deal crowded; but they are talking of sending us to the race-course. Our great difficulty is to pass the time. We have bought a few balls and play at fives. We play cards, but as no one has more than a few shillings in his pocket, we don't play for money, and that takes away a good deal of the interest. You see, we don't want to lose what little we have got, or to win anyone else's. If more prisoners come in, and the provisions begin to run short in the town—which they are likely enough to do, for there is no one to work on the fields now or to get in the crops—the money will come in very handy. Some of us were stripped altogether of our cash, but in most cases the Boers, although they took our gold or left us at most a sovereign, let us keep the silver. I suppose their theory was, that in the first place gold was better in their pocketsthan in ours; and in the second, that it was safer to deprive us of the means of bribing any of our warders. They were wise there, for, judging by their appearance, the majority of the guards are unmitigated ruffians, the Irish and German scum of the place—the sort of men who would do anything for a ten-pound note."
Yorke, for the first time, regretted when he heard this, that he had as usual left his money with the paymaster. There had been nothing to buy since he had left De Aar, and he felt sure that, if suspected when scouting, the fact of his having money about him would add to the suspicion that he was not what he seemed. He therefore handed over his money to the officer who acted as paymaster to Rimington's Scouts, and had only two days before drawn it from him and handed it to the paymaster at head-quarters, retaining only some five or six shillings; as his messing account would come in only once a week, and he could then draw sufficient to pay it. He had congratulated himself on this when he was captured, but he now wished that he had made a point of concealing a few pounds somewhere about him. It would not have been a very serious loss if it had been taken from him, and if he now had it, it would be invaluable if he could find any opportunity of making his escape.
"Have there been any attempts at escape?" he asked.
"Yes. Winston Churchill managed it, but not from this prison. Two of our fellows got away, but the result is that we are looked after a good deal sharper than we were. We are all locked up in our rooms at nine o'clock; there are four fellows always on guard in the yard night and day; I believe there are others round the wall. Besides, you see, even if one could get away, one's difficulties would only then begin. A disguise would have to be got, and that cannot be bought without money. In the next place, there is not a soul among us who can speak their beastly language, and, as we should have to buy food, we should be detected at once."
"I shall escape if I can," Yorke said; "for I speak Taal well enough to pass anywhere, and once outside I could make my way across the country, even if I had to steal a Dutchman's coat. Still, after what you say, I see that an escape can hardly be managed without money to bribe some of the warders."
"Go by all means, if you can," the officer said. "You won't injure us, for our case is hopeless now, and until we hear our bugles blowing there is not a shadow of a chance of out getting away."
CHAPTER XIII
FRIENDS
A week later the jails in the town were emptied, and the prisoners taken to the race-course. Some rough wooden huts had been erected for the men, and the officers were to use the grand-stand.
"At least we shall have a good view from the top," one of the officers laughed. "We shall see our fellows coming a long way off, and the bombardment of the forts, which will, I expect, be the first thing done. I hope that if the Boers fight they will make their last stand well away from the town. It would be maddening if there were to be a battle going on before our eyes and we not able to help."
The strictness of the watch was in no way relaxed. Men constantly paraded the enclosure, which was formed of strong palisades. Others kept watch outside, where several ranges of barbed wire, to which empty tins were attached in such a way as to make a clatter at the slightest motion, seemed to render it impossible to get out without giving the alarm, even if the palisade were scaled. The time passed heavily, in spite of the efforts of the officers to amuse themselves. With make-shift stumps, bats, and balls they played cricket,and the men in their part of the grounds did the same. They ran races, had high and wide jumps, played rounders, and did their best to keep up their spirits, but it was heavy work. The subject of the war was avoided as much as possible. It was maddening to know that fierce battles might be going on while they had lost all opportunity of sharing in them, and that when their friends, on their return, asked what share they had taken in the fighting, they could only reply that they were captured in one of the first fights and had seen nothing of the war afterwards.
Ten days after they had been moved, one of the guards, as he sauntered past Yorke, coughed, not in a natural way, but as if to call his attention. Yorke looked round with apparent carelessness, as other guards might have their eye upon him. The man passed on without looking at him, but Yorke had difficulty in restraining a shout of delight when he recognized Hans. At first he could scarcely believe his eyes, but as the man lounged away, he recognized the figure beyond the shadow of doubt. He sat down upon the ground, took out his pipe and filled it, and when Hans again came past he asked him for a light.
"Where is your room, Master Yorke?" Hans asked, as he fumbled in his pocket.
"It is at the other side of the house—the door nearest to the right-hand corner looking at it from here."
"I shall want time to think it out, Master Yorke. I only got taken on to-day. I will speak to you again to-morrow." So, striking a match and handing it to Yorke, Hans went away.
Yorke felt that great caution must be used in speaking to Hans for as a new hand he might be watched for a time to see that he did not communicate with the prisoners. He lay back on the ground, pulled his hat forward as if to shade his face, and tried to think things over. Even now he could scarcely believe it possible that Hans could have travelled all the way from the Modder to Pretoria. He knewhow warmly the faithful fellow was attached to him, but not for a moment, while thinking over every conceivable way of escape, had it occurred to him that Hans would have come to his relief. Hans was a slow thinker, and he should not have given him credit for his undertaking such an enterprise; and even now that he had succeeded in making the journey and in getting himself engaged as a guard, he felt sure that he could not have the slightest idea as to what his next step should be. Getting up after a time, he went back to the room where he and eight officers slept.
It had formerly been an office of some sort, and the outside door opened directly into it. Hitherto he had not examined the lock, for the palisade and the wire fences beyond it offered such impregnable obstacles, that the mere question of getting in and out of the room was of secondary importance. He now saw that there would be no great difficulty in shooting the bolt of the lock on the inside, but there were strong staples with a bar and padlock outside. These had evidently been put on only when it was decided to transform the grand-stand into a prison. His pocket-book had not been taken from him; it had a pencil attached, and he now wrote:
I was delighted to see you. Even with your help it will be very difficult for me to make an escape. Of course, nothing whatever can be done before you happen to be on night guard and be posted near my door. I can force the bolt of the lock inside. There is a padlock outside, and you will either require a file to cut through the staple, or a strong steel bar with which you could wrench it off; but the file would be the easier. With a short rope I could climb the palisade, but the difficulty is the barbed wire outside. I will think over what can best be done with that, and will let you know. Of course I shall want a disguise to put on if I escape; it must be a very dark night when we attempt it. I have no money; have you any?
I was delighted to see you. Even with your help it will be very difficult for me to make an escape. Of course, nothing whatever can be done before you happen to be on night guard and be posted near my door. I can force the bolt of the lock inside. There is a padlock outside, and you will either require a file to cut through the staple, or a strong steel bar with which you could wrench it off; but the file would be the easier. With a short rope I could climb the palisade, but the difficulty is the barbed wire outside. I will think over what can best be done with that, and will let you know. Of course I shall want a disguise to put on if I escape; it must be a very dark night when we attempt it. I have no money; have you any?
Having torn out the leaf and folded it up small, he went out again, strolled down to the palisade, and looked through it at the wires with their pendent tins. "It would be an awful job to get over them even without the tins, but with them it seems altogether impossible to do it without noise," he thought to himself. "I am very much afraid Hans has made his journey in vain." He opened the little bit of paper and added:
I shall need a little bottle of oil so as to shoot the bolt without making a noise, and you will want one to help you to file through the staple.
I shall need a little bottle of oil so as to shoot the bolt without making a noise, and you will want one to help you to file through the staple.
Hans came on duty again at twelve o'clock. Yorke did not go near him for an hour, then he repeated the performance of the previous day, and as Hans held out his matchbox to him he slipped the tiny folded paper into his hand, and presently sauntered back to his companions and joined in a game of rounders.
That evening when they were locked in their rooms he told the others: "It must seem to you madness, but I have made up my mind to try and escape. I know that I may be shot in doing so, but I mean to try."
"But the thing is impossible, Harberton," one of them said. "It will simply be throwing away your life."
"I am perfectly aware that it is very dangerous, but I have made up my mind to risk it. Why I tell you is that I don't wish to do anything that would cause greater precautions to be taken, and so make it still harder for anyone else to escape."
"It could not be harder than it is," one of them said; "so if you can hit upon any plan of escape, by all means try it. You can speak Dutch well, and might get off. But if you could take us all out with you I would not try, for the betting against one's making one's way across the frontier unless speaking the language is at least a thousand to one.They might not make any extraordinary fuss about one fellow getting off, but if eight of us were to do so they would scour the country everywhere and telegraph all over the place."
"I think it is, as you say, a piece of madness," another said. "Of course, if you are willing to try, we don't want to prevent you; but you may be assured that, even should you by a miracle succeed, none of us would care to take the chances of getting out of the country. Of course Mafeking is the nearest point, but there are Boers all round it. While I regard it as impossible that you should get out, I consider it would be still more impossible for any of us to make our way across the frontier if we escaped with you."
"Thank you!" Yorke said quietly. "Certainly I mean to try, but I did not wish you to regard me as a cad for going away and not giving you a chance to escape with me. If you had expressed your opinion that my escape, if effected, would in any way make things more unpleasant for the others, I should have given up my idea at once."
There was a murmur of approval among his hearers. "It is a very proper spirit, Harberton," the senior of the party said. "I know it has always been considered that a prisoner of war has a right to make his escape if he can, although such an escape may render the watch over the others more rigorous. Still, I think myself that it is a selfish and ungenerous action for any man to take, unless he is sure that others will not suffer for it. However, in the present case the watch is so close, and the obstacles to be overcome are so great, both in getting out and in making one's way across the country, that in no way could the escape of one officer add to the rigour of the imprisonment of the rest. Frankly, as far as I can see, bribery is the only possible means of escape, and unless you have a secret store, and that an abundant one, you can hardly hope to succeed with any of these fellows, for there is no question that they hate us bitterly."
"I am not thinking of that method. My resources atpresent are represented by four shillings, which would not be sufficient, I think, to tempt any warder to give me his assistance. I am by no means sure that I shall get away, but if I do, it will be with the assistance of a friend in the town. I do not wish to say more, because after I am gone—that is, if I do go—questions may be asked, and it would be best that, instead of refusing to answer them, you should be able to say that you knew nothing of the manner in which I had escaped, nor who had assisted me."
Yorke again strolled down to the palisade and stood looking through it thoughtfully for some time. The fences outside were certainly as awkward obstacles as could be imagined. The posts were six feet high; the wires were about eight inches apart, and the barbs a little more than six inches. On each wire were hung three tin cans between each post. There were three lines of fencing. The lowest wire was four inches above the ground, differing from the others only in having no tins attached to it, there not being depth enough for them to hang. Suddenly the puzzled look on Yorke's face was succeeded by one of satisfaction.
"It is as good as done!" he exclaimed. "With a strong pair of nippers the bottom wire can be cut, and that will leave a sufficient space to crawl under. There will be about a foot clear between the ground and the next wire. After deducting an inch for the barb, there are still eleven inches, and lying perfectly flat one ought to be able to crawl under that, taking care to avoid the tins."
That day and the two days following Yorke did not go near Hans. One of the other guards might notice the latter talking two or three days in succession to the same prisoner. On the third day he again placed himself in his way and handed him a note.
Get a strong pair of wire-nippers. Let the rope be about eighteen feet long. There is nothing else I shall want to enable us to get away. If you can get another rifle andammunition, and hide them some little distance from the prison, all the better. I shall save some food—enough, I hope, to last for two or three days. You had better bring some in your pocket too. There will be no moon on Monday next, and if you are on guard that night near my door we had better try then. At eleven o'clock I shall be listening for the sound of your file. If I do not hear it by half-past eleven I shall suppose that you are posted somewhere else, but I shall listen three or four nights before, and every night after that, at the same hour. I shall not write again. It is better that we should not be noticed speaking to each other, so pay no attention to me unless you have something particular to say.
Get a strong pair of wire-nippers. Let the rope be about eighteen feet long. There is nothing else I shall want to enable us to get away. If you can get another rifle andammunition, and hide them some little distance from the prison, all the better. I shall save some food—enough, I hope, to last for two or three days. You had better bring some in your pocket too. There will be no moon on Monday next, and if you are on guard that night near my door we had better try then. At eleven o'clock I shall be listening for the sound of your file. If I do not hear it by half-past eleven I shall suppose that you are posted somewhere else, but I shall listen three or four nights before, and every night after that, at the same hour. I shall not write again. It is better that we should not be noticed speaking to each other, so pay no attention to me unless you have something particular to say.
As he gave the paper to Hans, the latter slipped into his hand a small tin oil-can, one of those used for oiling sewing-machines and bicycles, and also a paper of tobacco. "If I am asked why I was speaking to you," Hans muttered, "I can say you asked me to buy you a quarter of a pound of tobacco."
It was well the precaution had been taken, for a minute later one of the other guards came up and asked roughly, "What did that man give you?"
Yorke assumed a look of surprise, put his hand in his pocket, and took out the little parcel.
"There it is," he said. "It is a quarter of a pound of tobacco. I asked him to get the best he could buy. I hope that he has done so, but I have not tried it."
He opened it carelessly, and the guard glanced at it, and then went away satisfied with the explanation.
"It is just as well," Yorke said to himself, "that I told Hans not to come near me again. Evidently that fellow had some sort of suspicion, and must have seen him speak to me before, for there is nothing unusual in the guard fetching us little things we want. There is certainly nothing suspicious about Hans' appearance. He has evidentlynot washed his face for days, and looks as dirty as any of them."
The time passed as usual till three days before the date appointed. For four days Yorke had not seen Hans, who had been put on night guard. Each evening he had gone to the door at eleven, and listened for half an hour without hearing any sound. He had hidden away one of the table-knives. On the Monday evening he heard, to his delight, a low grating sound, and knocked gently three times to let Hans know that he heard him. In half an hour he heard the bar cautiously removed, and with his knife at once shot back the bolt and opened the door.
The night was pitch-dark, and after silently grasping his follower's hand, Yorke went on to his hands and knees, and began to crawl down the slope towards the palisade.
"Where are the sentries, Hans?" he asked, when they had nearly reached it.
"There is one at each corner of the stand, and one on each side."
"I meant outside the wires."
"There are six or eight of them, and they keep on marching round and round. When one of the field-cornets visited the sentries the other night, he found three asleep. So the orders were that no one should sit down or stand still, but keep on going round and round, keeping as nearly as they could the same distance apart. But I don't see how we are to get through the wires."
"I see my way as to that, Hans. Have you got the nippers?"
"Yes, Master Yorke, here they are."
"Now, don't say another word till we are outside, but just do as I tell you."
Hans was well content with the order, for he had several times surveyed the fencing, and could see no possibility of getting over without not only being torn by the barbs, but also giving the alarm. He had, however, not troubled himself very much about it, having implicit confidence in Yorke. They came down upon the palisade about half-way between two corners.
"Give me the rope, Hans," the latter whispered. He cut it in half, and made a slip-knot at one end of each piece. Both had taken off their boots before starting.
"Now," Yorke went on, when the two pieces of rope were ready, "do you climb on to my shoulder and put these two loops round the top of one of the stakes. Let one hang down on this side, and the other outside. When you have fixed them, climb up and lower yourself by the rope to the ground. Be sure you do not make any noise. As soon as you are over, I will follow. You had better lie down as soon as you touch the ground."
As Hans was able to reach the top of the palisade from Yorke's shoulders, he could carry out the order without noise. Yorke himself then climbed up by the rope. He had rather doubted whether Hans would be able to accomplish this, as, though strong, he was unaccustomed to anything like athletic exercise. To Yorke, however, the matter was easy. When he reached the other side, he lay down.
"Lie quiet till I tell you, Hans."
The nearest fence was six feet from the palisade. Finding one of the posts, Yorke cut the lowest wire close to it. Then he cut it again some four feet away from the post, and carefully dragged the severed portions further along. He had thought that this would be the best plan, as, if he tried to coil the wire up, it might spring back again and strike one of the tins on the line above. These tins were for the most part hung half-way between posts, as the vibration there would be greatest.
When he had this done, he whispered to Hans: "There is room enough to crawl under the wire now, but you must lie perfectly flat, or you will be caught by the barbs. Push your hat through in front of you first. If you should catch, don't try to move; you would set the tins ringing. I willcome and free you. But if you are careful, you ought to have no trouble. I can get through easily enough."
The next line was five yards outside the inner one, and as soon as Hans was through the first fence, Yorke proceeded to cut the lower wire as before.
"Lie where you are till I have cleared the way through the outside fence," he whispered to Hans. "Dark as it is, they might see us if there were two of us together."
While the work was going on, the sentries had passed frequently. They followed each other, however, at somewhat long intervals. As they sauntered along slowly, smoking their pipes, and occasionally humming a hymn tune, they kept some fifteen or twenty yards outside the boundary fence, so as to be sure that in the dark they should not run against it, and not only tear their clothes, but by shaking the tins give a false alarm. To facilitate this, lanterns had been placed at this distance away from each corner, so that as soon as they passed one they could see the gleam of another and walk straight for it. Yorke waited till two of the guard were about equally distant from where he was lying before cutting the last wire, and was very careful in using a steady pressure on the pliers, so as to prevent their closing in with a click. This time, instead of risking the second cut, he crawled along some little distance with the end, then he gave a low hiss, and Hans was soon beside him.
"Now, Hans, we will go together. They certainly cannot see us here, so we will crawl under this last wire, and then lie still till the next guard passes. Wait till he has gone twenty yards, then stand up and make a dash. Run as lightly as you can; but even if he hears us, we shall be out of sight before he can unsling his rifle and fire."
Crawling under the wire, they remained as flat as possible on the ground until the next sentry passed. They could scarcely make out the outline of his figure. They waited till he had quite disappeared, then Yorke pressed his follower's hand. They rose to their feet and quietly made off. Their footsteps were almost inaudible, even to themselves, on the sandy soil. As soon as they were past the line the sentries were following they quickened their steps, and after going fifty yards broke into a run. They were free now. There had been no challenge by the guards on either side of them, no pause in the slow dull tread of their heavy boots. They had run a hundred yards when Yorke said: "Now, which way, Hans? Have you got a rifle for me?"
"Yes, master, I got two from a lot that were standing against the wall of a drinking-shop while their owners were inside."
"What did you get two for, Hans? You brought your own out with you, didn't you?"
"Yes, but Peter wanted one too."
"Peter!" Yorke repeated in surprise. "What Peter?"
"Long Peter, master."
"What! has he come with you?"
"Yes, it was he who came to me and said, 'You know the baas has been taken prisoner?' I said, 'Yes, I heard it this morning.' 'Then,' he said, 'we must go and get him out of the hands of the Boers.' I had not thought of such a thing then; but, of course, I said I was ready. So I went in and told the colonel I wanted to go, and he gave me leave. Then I put on my farm clothes, and got yours from your room. Peter had said that I had better ride, so I mounted my horse and came off."
"Where is he now, Hans?"
"He is at that little house about a quarter of a mile from the other side of the race-course. It is empty, and he is there with your clothes and the horse and some food. We must take a turn and go round there."
"It won't be easy to find it on such a dark night," Yorke said.
"We shall find it easily enough," Hans replied confidently. "Peter pointed out to me that from the door the two lanterns on this side were just in a line, so that when we came round, we should only have to keep them so, and we should come straight to the house."
"The Kaffir is a sharp fellow as well as a faithful one," Yorke said. "It is well we have a guide to the house, for otherwise we might have searched about till daybreak. A horse would not matter so much, but without the disguise I could not hope to get away."
In a few minutes they arrived at the house. A native was standing at the door holding a horse.
"You are a first-rate fellow, Peter," Yorke said as he shook him warmly by the hand, "a downright brick, to have made this long journey, and run no end of risk to get me out. I am lucky indeed to have two such friends as you and Hans."
"We could not stop there, baas, and know that you were in prison," the native said simply. "Not very difficult to get here, for we travel always at night. Which way shall we go now?"
"I have been thinking it over, and have decided that we had better go down to Johannesburg. It is a large town, and people are sure to be there from all parts, and we shall be less noticed. What do you think, Hans?"
"That is what I have been thinking too, Master Yorke."
"Do you know how the road lies from here, Peter?"
"Yes, baas; we sweep round the town three or four miles, then come on the road."
"Do you think you could find your way all right?"
"Quite sure to find it, baas; cloud clearing off, soon have stars come out."
"Then we will start at once; we are not likely to meet anyone on the road. If we keep on we shall be half-way there by daylight, we can then decide what we shall do. Now, where are the things?"
"In this bundle, baas. I have them ready, because if Ihad heard shots fired I should have run with the horse in that direction so as to meet you."
Yorke did not wait to take off his uniform, but slipped the Boer clothes over it.
"Now, where are the provisions?" he asked.
"In the bag behind the saddle," the Kaffir said. "Four blankets tied in front, one for each of us and one for horse."
"That is right. We had better lead the horse for the next half-mile, for on a still night like this they might hear the sound if we were to trot. I don't say that they would give the alarm, as they could not say who it was: but if they were to discover that we had gone they might remember that they heard a horse, and so guess the line we had taken."
They went quietly along for a quarter of an hour, then Yorke said: "We are far enough off now. I will mount here. When you are tired, Hans, you can take my place and I will walk." But Hans laughed, "I can keep on any time," he said, "but I will let you know if I am tired."
They proceeded slowly for the next half-hour, when, as the Kaffir had predicted, the clouds cleared off and the stars came out.
"Now, we can go on fast, baas."
"Then you had better get up behind me, Hans, the horse must have had little to do lately, and he can carry double very well; we shall thus gain a lot of time, and he will have another rest at Johannesburg."
The Kaffir ran on lightly ahead, and at a trot the horse followed. In half an hour they came on the road south, and maintaining the pace, and breaking occasionally into a walk for a short distance, they kept on till morning broke. It was half-past twelve when they started, and by four they had done twenty-five miles and were within ten miles of Johannesburg.
"I think we may as well push on to the town," Yorkesaid. "If we were to leave the road and take to the veldt, people might notice us from the farmhouses and wonder what we were doing there."
"I think so too, Master Yorke. I travelled by night coming here, because the horse is too good for a rough Boer to be riding. I will get off now and walk beside it, that will look natural enough. You are a young Boer farmer and I am one of the farm hands, and you are going to Johannesburg to buy things you want, and have brought one of your Kaffirs to carry it back; no one would think twice about it."
"That will certainly be best, Hans; they cannot know yet that anything is wrong at the prison, and the fact that the lower wires are cut will not be noticed for some time later. I pulled up the rope inside the inclosure and dropped it outside before I slid down, so the alarm is not likely to be given until they go to open the door of my room. We put the bar in its place when we closed it. At any rate, we may calculate that it will be fully seven o'clock before the alarm is given outside the prison. Even if they telegraph direct to Johannesburg to keep a look-out for me, we should be in the town before the message arrives. They will no doubt suspect that you were with me, for they will see that the staple has been filed through on the outside, and as you will be missing when they relieve the guard at six o'clock, probably your description will be sent out with mine. When we get to the town I will go in with Peter only; you had better not follow the road, but go round and enter the town at some other point."
Hans agreed that that would be the best plan, and, dismounting and taking hold of Yorke's stirrup-leather, trotted alongside. When within two miles of Johannesburg they saw two mounted Boers coming along in the distance, and at once broke into a walk. When they met the Boers the latter were engaged in conversation, and paid no attention to the party beyond returning Yorke's salutation. They met no one else until within a quarter of a mile of the town.Hans here left the others. Peter, who had hidden his rifle in his clothes since they had first seen the two Boers approach them, now concealed it in a bush twenty yards from the road. It would have been out of character altogether for a native to carry arms in the Transvaal. Yorke rode on as soon as this had been done. He found the principal streets comparatively deserted. The greater portion of the stores were closed; many of these had their doors open and broken, showing that forcible entry had been made and their contents carried away. Some of the hotels were closed, others were open; but the uncleaned windows and the general appearance of untidiness showed that there were but few people staying there, and that their owners kept them open as a matter of policy rather than of gain. Yorke dismounted before a second-rate looking establishment, Peter took the reins and led the horse into the yard. A Kaffir boy came out from the stables.
"Put the horse in," Yorke, who followed, said, "I may be staying here for a day or two."
After seeing this done he went into the house. "I want some breakfast," he said in Dutch to an untidy-looking German who sauntered into the hall. "I shall want a bed to-night."
"All right!" the man said; "you can go upstairs and choose any room you like, they are all empty. I suppose bacon and eggs will do for breakfast? I have nothing else except canned meat."
"Bacon and eggs will do very well."
"They will be ready in a quarter of an hour," the man said.
"I have put my horse in the stable," Yorke went on. "Is there any news?"
"Yes, we have beaten Buller again. I suppose you have heard that?"
"No, our farm is out of the way of news. When was it?"
"On the 27th, at least that was the last of it. We werefighting for a week, and they say that pretty near half of them were killed. They took a strong hill called Spion Kop, but we drove them out again. Buller has recrossed the Tugela, and I expect now that they will give up in Ladysmith, as we know that they are starving, and there is no longer any chance of Buller getting in. He must know that himself by this time. It will be our turn next, and when Ladysmith surrenders we shall chase Buller down to Durban."
By the tone in which the man spoke Yorke could see that he did not put any very great faith in the story he was telling.
"That is good news," he said heartily. "I am sorry I was not down there when the others went; I could not be spared at home. My mother is not strong, and could not look after the Kaffirs and the cattle."
"You are out of luck," the man said.
"Well, I might have got shot, you know, if I had been there."
"Not much risk of that," the man replied, "for they say that the Rooineks cannot shoot, and that we kill a hundred of them to every one they hit."
"They must shoot badly indeed if that is the case."
"Well, I don't say it is so, but that is what they tell us; and as Kruger says so, and the newspapers say so, of course we must believe it. I don't trouble about it one way or the other. My boss went down to Bloemfontein a month ago and left me here in charge. It is little enough I have to do, for your people are not given much to pay for liquor, especially when they can get as much as they like by breaking open the door of a store, and it ain't once a week that a bed is wanted. Still, if the place had been shut up, it would have been looted like the rest of the empty houses. It is dull work enough, for there is only myself and the Kaffir woman who cooks. Well, I had better go and see about your breakfast."
While Yorke ate his breakfast the German, who was evidently glad to have someone to talk to, sat down on a table and smoked.
"I suppose," he said, "you have come from somewhere near Heidelberg?"
"No," Yorke replied, "I have come from the south. I don't know whether you know the country between the Klip River and Blesbok Spruit?"
"No, I have never been there."
"Ah, then, you would not know the farm! It is not very far from where the two rivers fall into the Vaal, twenty miles or so below Heidelberg."
"I suppose your people are with the Heidelberg commando?"
Yorke nodded.
"Well, I don't know much about war," the German said, "for I slipped away from home before my time came to join the army, and I am not likely to return; but it certainly seems to me queer that, though it is more than three months since the business began, you have not taken either Ladysmith, Kimberley, or Mafeking yet; and yet your people made sure that by this time they would be at Durban on one side, and Cape Town on the other. It has been badly managed."
"Very badly managed," Yorke agreed. "If it had been left to Joubert to do as he liked, things would have gone differently, but he was interfered with by Kruger, and Steyn, and all Kruger's people here. I was very sorry at first that I could not go with the others to Natal, but I begin to think I am better off at home than they are. Besides, after all it does not matter to me whether we drive the Rooineks out or not. As far as I can see they have done no harm; we get a lot more for our cattle now than we did before they came, and if they were all to go, prices would fall again."
"You are right," the German said; "hotel-keeping would not be a paying game with us if all the Uitlanders weredriven out. So far, I reckon that, what with the hotels and stores being closed and most of the mines shut down, and almost all the men with money gone, this town is millions of pounds poorer than it was last year. You seem a sensible young fellow, but most of your people are so unreasonable that there is no talking with them. They know very little themselves, and believe everything that is told them. Of course we who live here are obliged to seem to agree with them, but we don't at heart believe that things are going to turn out as they fancy. They know nothing about England, and we do. When I first left Germany I went there and learned my business as a waiter in a hotel in London, and I know something about them, and how they put down that great mutiny in India. I fancy it will be the same thing here."
By this time Yorke had finished his breakfast, and, saying that he might as well have a look round and see about getting the stores he wanted, he took his hat, and telling the German that he would be in about one o'clock to dinner, went out.
CHAPTER XIV