The Petticoat Commando Part 19

"Oh, why did I leave my little round tent at Irene Camp?" she wailed.

"But I will give you a letter for Miss Findlay, Mr. Cinatti. She knows all my worst cases and she has many quite as bad in her ward. Ask to see her, and whatever you do, don't forget to ask for Dr. Neethling."

Dr. Neethling was the only Dutch doctor in the Camp, and he was seldom in evidence when there was any question of inspection. That Consular visit to Irene must have been quite an event. General Maxwell, Major Hoskins, and all the Consuls in a body went through the Camp and hospital, and made the usual inspection of foodstuffs and "medical comforts."

They were satisfied that great improvements had been made, but they did not see the volunteer nurses or Dr. Neethling, although Mr.

Cinatti asked three or four times for Miss Findlay and all the Consuls asked to see Dr. Neethling. These good people were not forthcoming, and there was so very much to see that it was time for the sumptuous lunch, with which General Maxwell treated the Consuls at the Railway Station, before further questions could be asked.

On the return journey General Maxwell inquired of Mr. Cinatti what he thought of the Camps, to which Mr. Cinatti replied, with that quaint mixture of pathos and humour which characterised him:

"General, your tiffin was a beauty, but your Camp--was very sad!"

Mrs. van Warmelo laughed when Hansie repeated these words to her and said:

"Oh, you have no idea how funny he is," and then she related the following incident to her daughter with great relish:

After she had drawn up the first pet.i.tion, she was out driving one afternoon with Mrs. General Joubert in the latter's carriage, going from house to house to get the signatures to the pet.i.tion, and on the Sunnyside bridge they found the three inseparable Consuls, Aubert, Cinatti, and Nieuwenhuis, out for their daily const.i.tutional, leaning over the railings and looking down into the stream below. Approaching the bridge from the opposite direction were Lord Kitchener and his A.D.C. on horseback, and the three parties met, as luck would have it, in the centre of the bridge.

"The Consuls took off their hats in greeting to the ladies in the carriage, and then turned in salutation to Lord Kitchener, but I wish you could have seen the look Mr. Cinatti gave me, Hansie, as he glanced from the doc.u.ment in my hands to Lord Kitchener's retreating form. It spoke volumes, and I had the greatest difficulty in preserving my gravity."

CHAPTER XIV

NEW DEVELOPMENTS

It was in the winter of 1901, while Hansie was at the Irene Concentration Camp, as one of six volunteer nurses from Pretoria, that Mrs. van Warmelo began her first adventures with the spies, and it has always been a source of keen regret to Hansie that she was not in Pretoria at the time. But one cannot have everything, and the knowledge she gained in the Camp was more valuable to her than any other experience she went through during the war.

I have merely touched on the Concentration Camps in the previous chapter, for obvious reasons, and propose to entirely omit the events of the two months Hansie spent in the Irene Camp.

As the six volunteer nurses were soon after expelled from the Camp by the military authorities, there was, fortunately for her, no opportunity of returning to her labour of love. Other duties awaited her at home, however, and by degrees she came into full possession of the facts connected with her mother's experiences during those months.

Amongst the men caught in Pretoria on June 5th, 1900, when the British first entered the capital, were two heroes of this book, Mr. J. Naude and W.J. Botha.

These men were destined, through their indecision in allowing themselves to be caught like rats in a trap, to fulfil with honour a role of great importance in the history of the war--a role unknown to the world, and without which this book would probably not have been written. Mr. Naude--who, by the way, was well known in town as beadle of the Dutch Reformed Church on Church Square immediately opposite the Government Buildings--had, after the first few days of uncertainty and remorse, no intention whatever of remaining long in durance vile.

With a few comrades in the same predicament as himself, amongst whom were Willem Botha and G. Els, he laid his plans for a speedy escape, and for the purpose of spying more effectually he used the tower of the sacred edifice for which he was responsible, as a point of vantage not only suitable but safe. With a strong telescope he took his observations, un.o.bserved himself, from the highest point of the tower, with the result that a certain route was chosen as offering the best facilities for a safe exit from the town.

Mr. Botha should have accompanied him on this, his first enterprise; but because of Mr. Botha's physical weakness, he having been struck by lightning at Pieter's Heights while on commando, and being subject to severe headaches and unable to walk far at times, it was decided that he should wait in town until Mr. Naude could come back from commando, bringing with him a horse for the use of his friend. It was as well that Mr. Botha did not expose himself to the hardships and perils of that first flight from the capital, for though Mr. Naude, wearing an English officer's uniform and carrying his private clothes in a knapsack, escaped with the greatest ease and safety, he and his companion roamed about the veld for three days and nights without finding a trace of the Boer commandos which they were so eager to join.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTAIN NAUDe.]

They therefore ventured a return to their homes in Pretoria and accomplished this successfully at dead of night, except for a small adventure through having been delayed too long on their homeward journey, on account of which they reached the first outpost just as day was breaking.

Naude's companion, in great anxiety, suggested making a _detour_, but Mr. Naude, with the presence of mind which characterised his every action, answered firmly:

"No; we must go straight ahead. Perhaps the watch has already caught a glimpse of us, and any indecision on our part would be fatal."

Seeing some clothing hanging on a line to dry near a Kaffir or coolie hut, Mr. Naude annexed one or two garments, and, quickly changing his uniform for the civilian clothes he had with him, he made a bundle of his knapsack, uniform, and helmet, tying them up in the stolen articles. With this bundle under his arm and a handkerchief tied over his head, he and his companion lurched uncertainly over the veld towards the watch, after first having taken a draught from their spirit-flask.

"Halt! who goes there?"

They halted, smiling at him in an imbecile manner.

"Show me your residential pa.s.ses."

His comrade fumbled in his pockets and produced his, but Mr. Naude fumbled in vain. He had no pa.s.s.

He shook his head. His smile became more inane. He muttered hoa.r.s.ely:

"Can't find it. Must have lost it last night. We have been on the booze, old man."

"I can see _that_," the watch replied and signed to them to pa.s.s on.

That their reappearance caused a stir amongst their relatives and friends can easily be understood, and it was found necessary to keep them in hiding. The beadle had been missed from his post, and it was an open secret among his friends and certainly not unknown to the enemy, that he had made a dash for liberty. Under the circ.u.mstances he could not remain in Pretoria long, and after a few days of more spying from the church tower he made a second attempt in a different direction, with a comrade of the name of Coetzee, the first man having had enough of the dangerous game. This time their enterprise was crowned with success, and they were able to join a Boer commando under General Louis Botha, but not before they had gone through an adventure which might have cost them their lives.

They were captured by the Boers under Acting Commandant Badenhorst and detained as British spies, all protestations of their innocence proving futile, until Mr. Naude informed the Commandant that he had with him dispatches for General Botha.

Commandant Badenhorst demanded to see them.

He refused, saying that they were private doc.u.ments for the Commandant-General, and that he was not at liberty to deliver them to any one else.

His word was accepted, and he was sent to the High Veld with a guard of men on foot to escort him to the General.

The want of horses proved to be a serious drawback and hardship to these men, so they determined to provide themselves with horses, of the very best, and appointed Mr. Naude as their leader.

Instead of proceeding straight to the High Veld, these enterprising and resourceful young fellows retraced their steps to the vicinity of the Pretoria West Station, where Mr. Naude knew that the enemy kept a number of magnificent horses for the use of officers only.

With infinite caution they approached the spot, keeping under cover until they were well within rifle-range of the men on guard. The movements of the latter were stealthily watched, and it was observed that the guard, consisting of two men, well armed, walked up and down before the stables in which the horses were kept. Meeting at a certain point, they turned abruptly and retraced their steps in the opposite direction, until they reached the limit of their beat and turned again.

Mr. Naude's plans were quickly made, and his commands given below his breath.

There was to be no bloodshed, he said. The thing could easily be done without, if his instructions were well carried out.

Two of the men were ordered to level their guns at one of the guard when he had nearly reached the point farthest from his comrade, while the others stormed the stables.

It was the work of a few moments.

The first thing the unfortunate guard knew was that he was looking straight into the barrels of two guns.

Not a word was said on either side.

Those glittering rifles, held by unseen, steady hands, flashed the unspoken challenge, "Give the alarm, and you are a dead man."

The guard stood still as if rooted to the spot.

Swiftly and silently Mr. Naude, with his few men, approached and entered the stables, cut loose the halters of the animals, and stampeded from the place.