It went beyond Steve’s comprehension what object any man could have in telling such deliberate lies. This Captain Thatcher ought to have known that what he was saying was all lies, and that ultimately his want of veracity was bound to be discovered. Steve could find only one explanation, and that was that such a person tells lies simply for the love of the thing, and for the temporary notoriety that such sensational tales may bring. Some people have a way of manufacturing their news according to the demand of their audiences. If the audience were composed of Government haters and Jameson sympathisers the news was made to suit their wishes, while if it were friends of the Government, the contrary rule was observed.
When Steve came to the top of the height he saw a party of Burghers coming directly towards him. At a distance he perceived a large troop of men coming in apparent pursuit of the Burghers. These latter he correctly took to be Jameson’s filibusters.
‘Thank God! I have arrived in time to fight with my countrymen for life or—death. And if it is to lose, I would a thousand times rather die than live!’ thought Steve to himself.
Where he was standing on the rise or ridge, a reef was cropping out, throwing out projections of rocks, which formed splendid natural fortifications, giving good protection against the fire of an enemy coming in the direction from which Jameson was coming.
The Burghers seemed to be retiring from the enemy—so were they. The fire from Jameson’s Maxims and long-range field-pieces could not be resisted on the open veld, for which reason they were retiring towards the aforesaid out-croppings, where Steve was standing. When they arrived on the spot, Steve discovered the field cornet in command of the Burghers to be an old acquaintance and friend of his. It did not take Steve more than a minute to explain matters, and to be provided with a spare rifle and a belt of ammunition.
The Burghers now took up their position amongst the rocks (which were situated exactly on the sky line of the ridge mostly, thus giving them the command of the approaches to the drift through which Jameson must pass if he passed the Burghers at all) and prepared to oppose the passage of the enemy. Jameson came on now—Maxims, field-pieces and all; his force was variously estimated from five hundred to eight hundred men. His troops were forcing onwards towards the drift.
Opposing his passage to the drift were eighty-seven Burghers (this is correct, as near as possible; there may have been a difference of one or two, more or less—but rather less) disposed in the following manner:—
In the first patch of rocks, two hundred yards from the road, twenty-five men occupied a position; farther on fifteen men were disposed a little nearer to the drift, but in a line with the aforesaid twenty-five men; still nearer to the drift seven men were lying in wait. Beyond the drift, about seven hundred yards away, forty Burghers occupied a small kopje. These forty men could only fire at long range on the enemy, as the long range field-pieces of the enemy prevented their leaving their shelter. The seven and fifteen men mentioned had to do most of the fighting, and had to stand the hottest fire, as the Maxims were playing almost continually on their position, but they were nobly supported by the twenty-five men stationed a little higher up. Jameson’s passage to the drift was soon stopped by the heavy fire of the Burghers, his men were dropping continually. He was obliged to give up all idea of crossing, and took possession of a farmhouse, a cattle kraal and stone-walled land. His Maxims and field-pieces were protected partially by the stone wall of the land. The majority of troops took possession of the kraal and the house. The men in possession of the kraal and house found themselves directly opposed to the twenty-five men on the ridge. The Maxims directed their fire mostly on the parties of fifteen and seven, who were directly opposite them. The field-pieces directed the full force of their fire on the forty Burghers occupying the kopje beyond the drift, who were seven hundred yards away, while the party of twenty-five was about two hundred yards from the kraal and house occupied by the enemy, and the parties of fifteen and seven, who were near to each other, were about one hundred yards from the troopers, and four hundred yards from the Maxims. More Burghers, amounting to over one thousand, were certainly in the neighbourhood of the battlefield, but were too far away to take part in the fight, and those occupying the positions above described were the only Burghers fighting—actually fighting, I mean—against Jameson at the battle of Doornkop. Steve found himself amongst the party of fifteen described as being opposed to the Maxims.
It was a terrible ordeal for those twenty-two men lying flat behind the rocks. The Maxim bullets literally rained on them, and, unprotected by the rocks, every soul of that little band would have been wiped out in a few moments.
Steve heard (in fact, felt) a continuous patter against the rock in front of him. It seemed to him as if a whole battery of Maxims were firing at that particular rock. The chips of rock and sand were raining upon him, thrown up by the bullets. Luckily his rock was just large enough to protect him against the heavy and continuous fire. Once he just peeped over a little dent in the rock, took aim and fired, when whew came a bullet right through his hat. Next moment his body must have moved slightly outside the line protected by the rock, when he felt a stinging sensation at his hip, a bullet had just grazed him. He got several more through his clothing in this way, as he moved and wormed himself about to take aim to fire. Luckily the Maxims could not fire all over at once, and while they fired at one party the other party would take advantage of the diversion in their favour to rain well-aimed shots on the enemy, and when a Burgher fired he reckoned upon one enemy being the less, either wounded or killed. For a Transvaal Boer never wastes ammunition; he never fires unless he is sure of his aim. A pang of pity went through Steve’s heart as he saw the poor troopers of Jameson dropping down one after the other; he felt that, although they were guilty of a great wrong to his country, still they were human, and to be hurled into eternity while participating in such a cowardly, back-handed blow against a people who had looked upon them as friends, and not as foes, was awful. And while aiming his rifle as accurately as he could, he murmured a prayer for the souls of those that he was helping to send to the judgment seat of God, but—in self-defence, in defence of country and national existence.