With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War. Brereton Frederick Sadleir
I’m one of the English from Johnny’s Burg!” Jack answered easily. “I’ve been staying with some people this way, and started last night to catch the train. But you people don’t trouble about sign-posts in these parts, and so I lost my way. Instead of finding my road to Standerton I got out of my reckoning and came down here, where I’ve spent the last few hours asleep on the veldt. Can you give me something to eat?”
“It’s a precious funny story,” the station-master, who was a Cape Dutchman, grumbled in reply. “But, then, you Englishmen, fresh from home, do all manner of strange things. Come in, and we’ll see what the Tanta has for you. But mind, I can’t afford to give you a meal; you must pay for it.”
Jack readily agreed, and ate ravenously when at last a dish of smoking biltong was placed before him, for his long march across the veldt had given him a keen appetite again, which his sleep in the open had in no way diminished. Big cups of smoking coffee were also provided, so that altogether he fared very well.
Then he lit a cigarette, paid the amount demanded, and went outside on to the platform, where he and the Dutch station-master walked up and down in friendly converse till the train for Johannesburg arrived.
Four and a half hours later he stepped on to the platform at the big mining city, the Golden City of South Africa, and walked to Mr Hunter’s store.
“Back again, Jack! Why, we did not expect you till to-morrow morning!” exclaimed Mr Hunter, shaking him by the hand. “Your bag and the leather goods turned up early this morning, and as you didn’t arrive we naturally thought you had decided to stay a day longer and would return by to-night’s mail.”
“No; I ought to have been back early this morning with the baggage, Mr Hunter,” Jack answered; “but as it was, I was delayed just on this side of the Transvaal border, and have had to come on by a local train. I’m afraid it’s likely to be rather a serious matter, and as soon as possible I should like you to give me some advice.”
“My dear Jack, whatever are you talking about?” exclaimed Mr Hunter in astonishment. “Was there an accident at Volksrust? But no, I know there was not, for I went to meet the train this morning. Whatever made you break your journey? You have no friends in that part of the country that I have heard of.”
“I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll come out on the verandah, Mr Hunter,” Jack answered. “I’ve been on my legs, tramping over the veldt, all night, and I’m feeling a bit done-up and tired. Let us get a couple of chairs out there, and then you can hear all I’ve got to tell.”
A few minutes later Wilfred joined them, and the three settled themselves comfortably on the verandah, where Tom Thumb, Mr Hunter’s Zulu “boy”, who was the biggest native ever seen in Johannesburg, supplied them with long glasses of deliciously cold lemon-squash.
Chapter Five.
Rise of the Boer Power
“And so you’ve discovered a secret magazine of our friend Paul Kruger, have you, Jack?” exclaimed Mr Hunter when the adventure of the previous night had been narrated to him. “Well, the existence of arms in that part of the country is more than I or any one of us had guessed. That ammunition and guns of all description are pouring into the Transvaal, and have been pouring in for the past three years, there is no doubt. They come openly from Delagoa Bay, and from the south under cover of some other name. Yes, we all know what is going on; but now the fact of there being a big magazine close to the Natal border opens my eyes. I have often heard it said that the Boers are ready to fight for their independence, but would not attack their neighbours till they were compelled to do so. Then I have heard it rumoured, and very often too, that the government at Pretoria has bigger schemes in view.
“Cecil Rhodes has, as is well-known, a strong desire to see a United South Africa under the British flag; and if I make no mistake, Kruger and his underlings are scheming to trample that spotless banner under foot and replace it with the vierkleur. In my opinion they are capable of anything, and I feel positive that a United South Africa under the Boers, with Kruger president of all, and with a population solely composed of Dutch, is aimed at. To oust the British is what they have in view, and for that purpose they are hatching a gigantic conspiracy, the result of which will be a terrible war.”
“But surely, Mr Hunter, they would not dare to attack the English,” Jack interposed. “We are the strongest nation on the face of the earth; so strong, indeed, that no other European race would declare war upon us if an honourable settlement were possible.”
“Ah, Jack! you have learnt a deal since you came to Johnny’s Burg, but not enough yet of Boer ambitions and Boer cunning to be able to say exactly what they would be capable of. For my own part, I believe what I have said. England is face to face with a vast and dangerous conspiracy, and these hardy and resolute Boers will yet prove a thorn in her side. But to return to your adventure. You have certainly escaped from a difficult position, and I congratulate you, my lad, on the pluck and coolness you evidently showed. Had they put you against a wall and shot you immediately you were discovered it would have been only what might have been expected, for you undoubtedly possess a secret of theirs which they have been jealously guarding. Supposing my theory of a war with England is correct, that huge accumulation of war material close to the border would enable them to despatch a force of Boers by train, and post them and the guns on the passes, and upon the mountains which separate us from Natal, within a few hours of the declaration of hostilities. We could not possibly be ready, and instead of our manning every rock and stone, and so preventing their passage into the country, they would pour through the passes in their thousands, and the colony of Natal would be invaded and in the hands of the enemy before our countrymen had had time to recover from the surprise.
“Yes, it is a most important secret, and I fear you will be a marked man. You have already made an enemy of Piet Maartens, and Hans Schloss bears no better reputation than he. And you have wounded him, a fact which he will never forget. But there are the others too. They will have a score against you. Altogether, Jack, I think you will be wise to leave us and get back to England as quickly as you can.”
“You say there will be trouble soon, Mr Hunter?” Jack asked, after a few moments’ silence, during which he considered what he should do in the circumstances.
“Yes, I firmly believe there will be an awful struggle between England and the Boers before many weeks are past,” replied Mr Hunter earnestly.
“Then, if that is the case,” said Jack decisively, “we are likely to get the worst of it for a time, and every man in South Africa will be wanted.”
“That is precisely what I think, Jack. Some, no doubt, would scoff at me as a pessimist. But I speak from some experience and many years’ knowledge of the Boers. England, it is my firm belief, will be aghast at the huge armaments and the large force opposed to her, and she will require every man that can be found able and willing to shoulder a rifle.”
“Then I shall stay, Mr Hunter,” Jack said quietly. “I’ve no great wish to get back to a crammer’s at present. A few months later will do just as well, so I shall wait and see what happens. There is nothing I should like better than to take part in a campaign. Not necessarily against the Boers, for some of them seem good fellows, but in some war alongside of British troops. Meanwhile, if the Transvaal has become too dangerous a place for me to stay in, I can easily run down to Kimberley. A few weeks amongst the mines would be excellent fun.”
“Well, Jack, you must do just as you wish,” answered Mr Hunter. “If you stay in the country, you will do well to go to Kimberley, or one dark night you will be having a bullet flying after you, for the Boers are not apt to stick at trifles. They are men whom it is not well to play with, and the code of honour is not so high amongst them as to prevent their murdering one who possesses a secret likely to endanger their future plans.”
“I should think not, indeed, Father,” chimed in Wilfred. “Look at the mean tricks they played in the last war – firing on white flags and ambulances, and saving their own skins by running away. You have often told me how they treated our soldiers, and everyone here knows how they bully the natives.”
“They are a curious and, I believe,