Steve walked towards the sound, and came to a dog—a mongrel, wounded and crippled.
He was moved to pity to see the look of entreaty, almost human, in the eyes of the dog. It seemed to ask his aid. Steve lifted the dog tenderly, and carried it to a pool of water near by. But the dog would not drink, it only whined, and, wagging its tail, crawled back to the spot where found, looking still, with its entreating eyes, towards Steve. Steve was puzzled at its action, and followed it back to the spot. The dog gave a few feeble scratches at the debris on which it lay. A beam of mental light seemed almost to dazzle Steve, as it occurred to him that the dog wanted him to search for some loved master or mistress. He lost not a moment to begin, and further aid soon coming up, ere long they succeeded in laying open what seemed to be the ruins of a dining-room. Under a heavy beam they found a dead woman with a spoon in her hand, having, apparently, been occupied in feeding a child of about six months, who was lying, apparently unhurt, under an arch formed by the falling timbers. The child was sleeping, and, from the signs of tears on its cheeks, Steve judged that it had cried itself to sleep. Poor child! it had escaped by a miracle. Who knows what work this child was born to accomplish? When scores of strong men and women perished, this weak babe of six months lived. God, apparently, has work for it to do before it may die. Perhaps, when Steve is old and trembling, this child, saved so miraculously, may be accomplishing its destined work, and doing something that shall benefit the whole human race, and causing its name to be inscribed on the list of imperishable names.
The joy of the dog seemed almost human when it saw the wakened child, crowing as if nothing had happened. Steve waited to see that the child was safely handed to the care of a kind and motherly-looking woman, and then returned to his hotel for breakfast. At breakfast Steve learned, with pleasure, that the President and other members of the Government were on their way to Johannesburg to visit the scene of disaster. He resolved to go to the station to see the arrival of the Presidential party.
A great crowd was waiting at the station to welcome the man, who, a little more than a month ago, would have been hooted and jeered at, if not murdered, if he had ventured to visit Johannesburg unattended, as he was doing now. But the generous and humane actions of the President, during the last month, had prepared the way for the conciliation which was now to take place; drawn towards each other, as both parties were, by common sympathy at this moment of mutual loss and suffering. Here, across the dead and wounded of Burgher and Uitlander, the representatives of both parties shook hands, and forgot for the time, if not for ever, their political differences.
The President and many of the most prominent men of Pretoria, who were of the party, were driven through the destroyed township. They then drove to the improvised hospital at the Wanderers. The President showed visible emotion as he viewed the many wounded. The tears were seen to force their way down the face of the man, who, in times of greatest danger, showed no fear or emotion. But such is ever the way with great and noble men. When danger threatens themselves, they know no fear or pain; but when others suffer, they know how to sympathise and feel for them.
With deep emotion, His Honour thanked the people of Johannesburg for the sympathy and practical aid they had given to the wounded, and promised that the Government should not forget to do their share in succouring the needy ones who had suffered loss of parents or friends.
His Honour then reminded the suffering wounded that there was a Great Physician on high, Who would heal all their wounds, bodily and spiritually, if they would only ask Him.
His Honour was presented by an address from the Relief Committee, thanking him for the practical sympathy shown to Johannesburg in this visit, to which the President replied in suitable terms.
After a visit to the room upstairs, where some fifteen orphaned children were housed, and some kindly words of consolation and advice to the children, His Honour visited the permanent hospital, which was also crowded with wounded.
As Steve was following in the rear of the Presidential party, his sleeve was pulled by one of the attendants, who informed him that one of the wounded patients, who had seen him passing, earnestly requested to speak to him.