PART II.
TREKKING.
CHAPTER I.
VRYBURG TO HEIDELBERG.
'None of us put off our clothes.'
Neh. iv. 23.
Now commenced a different phase of warfare. If, in the constant fighting of the Natal campaign, the regiment had been called upon to prove its fighting capabilities—a call to which their noble response earned them encomiums wherever they went—they were now to be called upon to prove another essential of the true soldier—their mobility. And well they proved it. Day after day, week after week, the tired, footsore, but stout-hearted column-of-route made its slow and wearisome way over the apparently limitless expanse of the swelling veld. And how monotonous that veld can be none can appreciate save those who have experienced its deadly sameness. Ahead, behind, all round, nothing but veld, veld, veld. No trees, no hills, no rivers, no lakes, no houses, no inhabitants! Here and there, perhaps, a miserable shanty of the sealed-pattern South African type: rough stone walls and corrugated-iron roof, a room on each side of the door, a narrow verandah—occasionally occupied by a quiet, peaceful-looking old patriarch, with a grey beard, and an air savouring rather of the pulpit than the sheltered side of a boulder—a scraggy tree or two, and a lick of water in a 'pan'—or pond as we should call it—hard by; a woman, some children, and a couple of goats; a few mealie cobs yellowing on the roof, and a scared, indignant, and attenuated fowl.
Alas! how those quiet-looking, quiet-spoken old gentlemen, open Bible on knee, deceived us. Oh, no! they had never wished for war. Fight? yes; they had fought, and surrendered, and taken the oath, and hoped never to fight again. Peace? yes; they wanted peace, and urged us to hasten on and conclude it. The same story everywhere: in the villages as in the solitary hamlets. A vast, empty, forsaken wilderness, with nothing more bellicose than a lean and hungry boar-hound or two. And yet for two long years to come this very country, over which the battalion trekked so peacefully, fifes and drums playing, officers out on the flanks shooting, mess-president cantering miles away in quest of eggs and their producers, was to be the scene of many a hard-fought fight and many weary nights of outposts. Indeed, it never really succumbed to the very end; the happy hunting-ground of the gallant De la Rey, it was a thorn in the side of our leaders up to the day the Delegates came in.
One day's march varied little from another. Up at dawn, and off after the scantiest of scrappy breakfasts. Good marching while the dew was on the grass, and the sun a welcome ally after the clear, crisp, frosty nights; soon, however, to get hot enough, until the welcome mid-day halt and meal, after which tighten up belts once more and on, and on, one horizon following another with wearisome regularity, and never a sign of the long-looked-for water, till at last, as the sun set behind our backs, its last rays would glint on the miserable 'pan' by whose side we were to halt for the night. And then what bitter feelings of depression and disgust when sometimes the fiat would go forth 'Water for cooking purposes only,' and one had to turn into one's blankets grimy, dusty, clammy, and miserable.
On May 31st, the regiment, having arrived at the railway, was told they would halt there next day. But on the morning of June 1st, the order was given for the column[8] to march at 2 p.m. to Marigobo Pan, a distance of eight miles only, but quite ten by the route taken. The evenings soon close in at this time of year in South Africa, and it was almost dark when the column arrived. As it was a fine mild night, every one hoped to be allowed to bivouac, but tents were pitched after all, and naturally enough pitched anyhow.
In this matter of pitching tents, the battalion particularly prided itself. On arrival at the selected site of the camp the Sergeant-Major blew a whistle, when all those whose duty it was to assist ran towards him, the men to mark the tent-poles, bayonets in hand, and two others with the mekometer, to ensure a true right-angle. Every one knew his particular job, so no time was wasted, while the symmetrical lines obtained by the use of the instrument were a joy to the General's eye.[9]
