On Commando Part 4

But it was possible that in our excitement we might have crossed the waggon track which the lager was to follow; then the lager would be far to the right. Standing thus like the a.s.s between two bundles of hay, I was not in the mood to think lightly of my case, but had to act at once, so I chose the safest and more probable of the two sides of my right angle--namely, the left, as I would then in any case not be moving towards Portuguese territory, and could always turn to the Krokodil River.

I felt pretty certain now, as it was more probable that we had not crossed the old waggon tract, and every moment I expected to hear the switching of the long whips. But when I had gone some distance I was obliged to return to the donga, and retrace my way to the place where we had slept. A clever Boer would have succeeded in finding the way back, but I soon lost my way altogether. I lost the traces of the horse's hoofs, and the dongas looked to me so different that in one place where a donga branched off I did not know which to follow. An intense feeling of desolation took possession of me. Lost in a wilderness without food or water! I thought of the twelve or thirteen men who got lost in this wood on a hunting expedition, and of whom only one was saved. A great fear came upon me. Gradually I became calmer, and tried to form some plan of action. I resolved to keep to the left, where I had already seen a solitary mountain. Perhaps water was to be found there.

My gun was loaded with Dum-Dum bullets, specially prepared for bucks. I had filed through the steel to the lead, so that the bullet would expand at once when it came into contact with bone. I found a buck tame in its very wildness, but I missed it, for the aim of my gun, a fine sporting Mauser, had been bent by the branches of the trees. It was a good thing that I did not come across a lion, or, rather, that a lion did not come across me.

I had to ride under trees, through shrubs and gra.s.s, and had to keep a sharp look-out, as the king of beasts sometimes takes the lords of creation unawares. And I had to look out for an opportunity to shoot a buck--the only food within my reach. The nearer I came to the mountain, the surer I was that I had lost my way completely, and the more I became reconciled to my fate. I planned how I should build a large fire in the night for myself and my horse, and how I should defend myself against a lion with a burning piece of wood.

Suddenly my horse went faster and pushed to the left. Greatly to my astonishment, I saw that the attraction was a little stream of water that he had scented in a donga. I off-saddled, and let my horse graze in the luxuriant gra.s.s.

Now I was strengthened in my belief that I had taken the wrong direction, for we were all under the impression that we should not soon reach water. I prepared some more Dum-Dum bullets with a small file that I carried in my pocket, and did not let my horse graze long, but hastened to the mountain to find a better shelter for the night. To my great joy, I came upon the wide road about a thousand paces further on.

I followed the road along the mountain for half an hour, when I came upon the lager, camped near a stream--probably the same stream at which I and my horse had quenched our thirst.

As we sat round our fires that night we heard shots fired in the distance from the direction that we had come. Some men were sent out immediately, and returned after a while with a man quite exhausted from hunger and thirst, and paralyzed with fear; he had been unable to overtake the lager.

IX

PRACTICAL HINTS--ADVENTURE ON THE SABIE--NORTH OF LYDENBURG

Experience teaches us. The knowledge that we have gained in this war we must pa.s.s on to the coming generation. It may be of use in a war of the future, or on some other occasion. Therefore Oom Dietlof will take this opportunity to give his nephews in South Africa some practical hints that may be of use to a burgher in his travels or in a war. If anyone loses his way in the same way that I have just described, he must remember the following way of finding the four quarters of the wind:

The small hand of a watch describes a circle in twelve hours, while the apparent movement of the sun round the earth is in twenty-four hours.

The movement of the small hand is therefore twice as fast as that of the sun. If one points the small hand of a horizontal-lying watch to the sun at twelve o'clock, then the hands and the figure XII. lie in the meridian as well as the sun.

In the northern half-circle the sun and the hands move in the same direction. In one hour's time the small hand goes a distance of 360/12 = 30, and the sun goes a distance of 360/24 = 15. If at one o'clock one points the small hand of a horizontal-lying watch to the sun, the line that divides the acute angle between the figures I. and XII. lies in the meridian. So one can always find the meridian.

In the southern half-circle the sun and hands move in opposite directions, therefore one must point the figure XII. to the sun, and then divide the acute angle between the figure XII. and the small hand to find the meridian.

In this way one can at any time find out the direction one has taken.

But everyone has not always a good watch, and the sun sometimes hides behind the clouds. Then it is better to have a good compa.s.s--but better still not to lose one's way.

Besides such simple articles as a pocket-knife, a water-bag, etc., which are indispensable to a traveller in our country, everyone ought to carry with him a good plaster, a nosebag, and some snake poison; maize (mealies) for his horse, the cheapest and most strengthening food that we know of, can always be carried in the nosebag. Snake poison prepared by a good Kaffir doctor is the only cure for snake-bites or the bite of any poisonous insect. The Kaffirs prepare it from some (to us) unknown shrub, and from the poison of the most venomous snake, which they make into a powder. This powder is used as an antidote by swallowing a small dose--enough to cover the point of a pocket-knife--and also by applying some to the bite, after first having cut an opening into the bitten part with a pocket-knife. Some people protect themselves against the poison of a snake-bite by regularly swallowing some of the poison and vaccinating themselves with it. One can even protect one's self in this way against the bite of the poisonous file-snake of the Boschveld--a snake the shape of a three-cornered file, sometimes from 3 to 4 feet long. It is a fact that the person whose body is proof against the poison of a snake-bite is never bitten, as he is feared by snakes.

Formerly I doubted it, but I have myself seen people who have made themselves proof against a bite in this way, and I have also heard it from people in whom I have the utmost faith.

Alcohol is also a good antidote, provided one takes it immediately and in such quant.i.ties that it goes to the head. I would recommend everyone always to take a small quant.i.ty of brandy with him on commando, if experience had not taught me that some take even a mosquito-bite as an excuse to 'take a drop,' and I am against that on principle.

Often while loading my horse the thought struck me whether the poor brute ever had a wish to protest, 'Surely this is becoming too bad!' and that reminds me that one must be very careful not to overload. The knapsack must not be filled with kaboe mealies (roasted maize) for one's self, while the nosebag of the poor horse remains empty.

More than one prisoner of war has bitterly regretted that he did not take his horse's power of endurance into greater consideration. Now I must take up the thread of my tale.

The following morning the lager would start at three o'clock, and, as my horse was in good condition, the owner of the horse that had been left behind asked me to fetch it before the lager left. He explained to me where I would find it tied to a tree about half an hour's ride from the lager, so I started with a friend at about two o'clock at night. On the way we came across a mule that had wandered away while grazing, ignorant of all the danger he was exposing himself to in the uninhabited Boschveld. The creature gave us much trouble by refusing to be caught and constantly dodging behind a tree, so we lost a great deal of time.

On our way back, close to the lager, we heard the whine of the wild-dog, the well-known feared wolf. We thought it very interesting to come across a wild animal of which we had no fear just then. But when we reached the camping-ground of the lager, where only the trolley stood to which the wandering mule belonged, we found to our surprise that both white men and Kaffirs had given up the search for the mule for fear of the wild-dog. They had all congregated round large fires. The wild-dog, however, is harmless by himself; like the khakies, his strength lies in numbers. We had to leave the sick horse to join the bucks of the Boschveld on its recovery, until the horse-sickness came. After a long, tiring, but very interesting ride we arrived at the Sabie, where the rest of the lager was already encamped. The Sabie is about the size of the Krokodil River, and its scenery of woods and valleys formed a sharp contrast to the deadly monotony of the Boschveld that lay behind us. We had crossed the bare desert and were now in a part of the country inhabited by Kaffirs. The following day the lager was removed half an hour further on, and there we remained a few days.

At night four of us were persuaded to go eel-catching in a crocodile-pool that we had discovered a little further on. We made a large fire to entice the eels, and, as we were none of us great lovers of angling, we made a splendid bonfire, as there was plenty of dry wood to be had.

There was something particularly attractive in these large fires on those quiet, dark nights of the wilderness. The glow threw a sombre light on the water that gave one a creepy feeling, as if a crocodile were on the watch for us in the water, and lions at our back between the large trees. What must they have thought of us?

The bank of the river seemed to be about 6 feet high, and not very steep. We made the fire closer and closer to what seemed the bank. I saw someone lift up a huge branch, walk to the bank with it, and plant his left foot firmly on the ground. The reeds gave way beneath him. What seemed a firm bank, by the glow of the fire, proved to be a ma.s.s of reeds and gra.s.s, and the poor man fell down a height of 6 feet, his fall being hastened by the heavy branch he held. For a moment we stood irresolute. To jump after him into a crocodile-pool! But he called for help, and we had to act immediately. Fortunately, one acts almost instinctively in such cases. One of the others slid down the bank--the thought striking him: 'If only there are not two crocodiles!' Landing on a horizontal branch, he stretched out his hand to the drowning man, someone else took hold of his left hand, and so they were both saved. If a crocodile had been in the neighbourhood, he would probably have stood on the defensive. Such a queer, two-legged animal who led the attack in such a strange but decided way must have roused his respect.

This piece of fun put an end to our eel-fishing. We had caught only one eel--and a man.

The following morning there was parade for President Steyn. His speech to us was touching and to the point, and showed that he believed in a good ending to the war, if the burghers were capable of enduring such hardships as at present. Then he also told us in what a hurry he was to reach his burghers, as he was afraid that the enemy were doing all in their power to make them turn against him. We all liked President Steyn very much.

On our journey through the Selatie Goldfields, past the Marietje River to Pilgrim's Rest, we crossed the steepest mountain that I have ever seen. A double span of oxen was harnessed to each waggon. The oxen were lent us for the occasion by the Boers living on the plateau in front of us. After every few steps upwards we had to put stones under the wheels to prevent the waggons from slipping back. It took our little lager nearly all day to reach the plateau. Then we had a most magnificent view of the Boschveld that lay behind us. In the distance the Lobombo Mountains were visible on the boundary of the Portuguese and Transvaal territory. The first rains had fallen on the plateau, so the green gra.s.s was a refreshing change for our eyes. The horses would be able to graze well, and the good feeding would soon make them lose their old coats, and then they would be sleek and glossy again.

From the high plateau we descended, over a 'lumpy' veld, with an oasis here and there in a hole or valley, or on the top of a hill, to Pilgrim's Rest. Some miles before we reached this little town we pa.s.sed beside the water-works that supply a strong stream of water for the machinery of the gold-mines. We simply stormed the shops, that were still well supplied with provisions, and bought all sorts of luxuries and necessaries for our journey. From Pilgrim's Rest we once more crossed a steep mountain, along a road that for length and height has not its equal. In the neighbourhood of Ohrigstad, a little town that we left to our right, I asked a Boer woman whether the fever did not make one's life impossible there, and I got a very naf reply: 'No; this year the fever was not so bad. We all got ill, but not one of us died.'

The rest of our journey to the north of Lydenburg, over Spekstroom River, along Watervalop, over Steenkampsberg to Roossenekal, was very tedious. The uninhabited Boschveld was very interesting, and we had sufficient provisions then, but the poor, uncivilized Boer inhabitants of the Lydenburg district were unable to supply us with necessaries, the want of which we were beginning to feel. We could not buy a loaf of bread anywhere. And it is anything but pleasant in a time of war to come across such lax and unenergetic people as they proved to be. The men were nearly always at home, and appeared to be discouraged and unwilling to fight. We had all lost our sweet tooth. That one could tell by such expressions as: 'Even if you give me sugar:--' But occasionally we got a more desirable subst.i.tute, when a beehive was discovered in a cleft of a rock. Some of our men are particularly clever at discovering a hive. I have often seen a man stand gazing up at the sky, walk on a short distance, and again stand gazing, and after awhile appear with a bucket of honey. By watching the flight of the bees they find out in what direction the hive is. A practised eye can see the rising and settling of the bees above the hive from a great distance.

X

FROM ROOSSENEKAL TO PIETERSBURG--WITH GENERAL BEYERS TO THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS

We went in a very different direction from that of General Ben Viljoen's commando, which took the road to Pietersburg through Leydsdorp.

President Steyn celebrated the anniversary of his birthday at Roossenekal, and addressed us in the same spirit as on the former occasion at the Sabie.

Roossenekal is famous for its caves, or grottos, in which the Mapochers hid themselves so well during the Mapoch War. We made use of the opportunity to visit the grottos, of whose formation I should like to know more. What appeared on the outside to be an ordinary hill proved a most wonderful natural building containing many rooms. The old kraal walls and the peach-trees and 'Turkish figs', (p.r.i.c.kly-pears), overgrown by wild trees, and an occasional earthen vessel, were the remains of the Kaffir city. Of course we cut our names into the rocks by way of becoming immortal. We could not help speaking with great admiration of the wild Kaffir tribe who from such a hiding-place fought for months for a life of independence. We had no time to visit the grottos further away.

Although our horses were well fed during this time of rest, they profited little, on account of the constant cold rains that fell. We fortunately still had some tents, that we used only in case of rain. Our Commandant was still always in doubt whether to proceed to Pietersburg, for we were quite ignorant of the enemy's movements during the last few weeks. Later on, when he got the information that the enemy were stationed at Pinaars River bridge, and that we could not with safety pa.s.s Warmbad and Pinaars River, we had to turn off at Kobaltmyn to the right to cross Olifants River lower down. We had already pa.s.sed Kobaltmyn in the beginning of July on our journey after General de la Rey. The latter part of our journey, along Olifants River, through Zebedelsland to Pietersburg, was exhausting for man and horse. Some of us often had nothing but a little rice and a small piece of meat for several days in succession. There was scarcely any gra.s.s for our horses, and yet we had to ride hard night and day.

After a tiring journey of fully a month, President Steyn's commando arrived at Pietersburg on October 11. Although we had always intended to follow President Steyn to De Wet, my brother and I, with Malherbe, now accepted an invitation from my uncle, Ignace Mare, to stay awhile on his farm at Marabastad. President Steyn left with his commando for Nylstroom. Our horses were worn out, and could not follow the commando.

Most of the men had a spare horse that was still in good condition, and although my brother and I had only one horse apiece, we often had to do the hardest work.

My aunt and uncle did their best to make our stay a pleasant one, and our horses were well fed. Soon General Ben Viljoen's commando arrived at Marabastad, and stayed there a few weeks, so that we also experienced the discomfort arising from a lager camped on one's farm. The Boer is deprived by it of all necessaries, and all sorts and conditions of men constantly visit his house. Some of them, the riff-raff of the commando, are very unwelcome guests, for they do much mischief intentionally, and thereby give the commando a very bad name. The poles to which the wire is attached for camping at a farm were yet left undamaged. The burghers were still accustomed to get plenty of dry wood in the Boschveld, and were not yet so demoralized as to work damage without scruple.

We stayed at my uncle's far longer than we at first intended. My saddle had chafed the horse's back so severely that I could not ride it for several months. My brother got an attack of malaria, and just as he was recovering had a relapse, so that President Steyn was so far in advance of us that there was no question of overtaking him.

The commando had already left Marabastad when we started for Tweefontein, near Warmbad, on our now strong, sleek horses. There we joined Commandant Kemp, of the Krugersdorp commando, under Wyk III., who had parted from Ben Viljoen at Marabastad because the latter had on a Sunday afternoon during service fired off several cannon-shots for the edification of a few fast women.

Malherbe, my brother, and I formed a sort of comradeship under Corporal Botman--or, to put it simply, we were 'chums.' At Warmbad we heard many interesting things about the khakies, who had stayed there nineteen days on their hunt after De Wet. We could not understand why they destroyed the bathing-houses, unless it were to deprive our wounded of the chance of recovery.

The condition of the people in Zoutpansberg and in Waterberg, where the enemy had been, was not very cheerful. Everyone complained that there was no sugar to be had, that the meal was getting low, and that soon there would be no clothes. Pietersburg was exhausted by the commandos, and the courage of the inhabitants was nearly at an ebb. They would not yet make the sacrifice that would part them from their families. The enemy had not yet driven them to despair by the destruction of their fields and goods.

Every sensible person knew that the Republics would lose in the long-run in a guerilla war unless something unforeseen happened. At the time that we fled from Pretoria my mother said she would have hope as long as her 'gorillas' remained in the veld. Even if we clung to a straw, the possibility always remained that things might take a favourable turn as long as a fair number of burghers remained in the veld.

The burghers from the different districts now in Waterberg were earnest and full of courage. Noticeable changes for the better had been made.

Beyers, a man in whom the men had the utmost faith, was made a.s.sistant-Commandant-General, and was to lead a commando of 1,500 hors.e.m.e.n from Waterberg, Zoutpansberg, Krugersdorp, etc., to the Hoogeveld. The discipline was much stricter. Cooper and Fanie Grobler, who had been accused of high treason, promised to keep a sharper look-out for spies and traitors. And we still always hoped for an eventual rebellion in Cape Colony. That hope was our life-buoy on which we kept our eyes fixed. We felt that there our safety lay, and the enthusiasm of the commando was heightened by the desire to celebrate Paardekraal Day in Krugersdorp on December 15. As a sailor longs for the sea, so we longed for a meeting with the khakies when we left for the Magalies Mountains in the beginning of December. Our commando was light and mobile, with provisions for a short time only. Such heavy cannon as the Long Toms were of no use to us now. Hence-forward we were to live on the produce of the surrounding country, as there was no basis from which we were to operate. Besides this, the khakies very kindly made over some of their provisions, arms, and ammunition to us in a skirmish or battle, so that afterwards we had more Lee-Metfords than Mausers in our possession.

At Krokodil River I had the privilege of seeing how a honey-bird takes a human being to a bees' nest. As we were lying under a tree, a honey-bird settled close to us. Corporal Botman followed it as it flew chirping from tree to tree, and called to it that he was following, until the bird stopped at the hive. The grateful finder always rewards the bird with a piece of honeycomb that he puts aside for it. But I have never been able to discover whether the bird or the insects eat the honey. I know that the 'bug-birds,' that are always seen on or near cattle, do not feed on the bugs with which the cattle are covered, but on the locusts that fly about the herd. Last week, when our guards took us for a walk outside the fort, I noticed that a kind of sparrow in India has the same trick of catching the locusts that are driven on ahead by the cattle.

I shall not try to give a description of the works of the machinery that moved mechanically to the Magalies Mountains, for I should have to guess at the particulars in this historical little tale. Mechanical I call the journey, for there were days and nights in which we were numbed, body and soul, exhausted by hunger and thirst and want of sleep.