Now the roar of the battle
And musketry’s rattle
Goes up to the vault of the sky;
While the plain gleameth red
With the blood of the dead,
And the blood of those doomed to die.
Chorus—
But the God of Battles had fought on our side,
And our country so loved is free;
For the strength of His arm doth with us abide,
And we thank Him on bended knee.
He hath scattered our foes in the pride of their ways,
And shielded the lowly Boer;
To Him be the glory, to Him be the praise
For ever and ever more.
Chorus.—Then ride! ride! ride!
For my loved ones are waiting for me,
And to-night I shall bide
With my vrouw by my side,
And my little ones round my knee.[1]
[1] The above is a composition of Mr Luscombe Searelle’s, which was published in The Press of Pretoria some time ago, and is taken over from that paper.
CHAPTER XXIV
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEATH
After peace was once more partially restored, our hero resolved to pay Johannesburg a visit and see how the City of Gold looked after its effort to amuse itself, à la South America, with an abortive revolution. It was not until Tuesday, the 18th February, that he was able to carry out his resolve—the evening of which day found him comfortably dining at a leading Rand hotel.
Steve found excitement, although cooled to a great extent, still running high. Arguments, pro and con, on late events were still the chief, if not the only, conversation indulged in during leisure moments.