Those who could spent some time and care on their gardens, for they tried to find a nice change from wurzels to beet, and even beans and lettuce. For scurvy, the consequence of eating too much meat without green stuff, had already threatened the town. Those who wanted food had to go to the market hall and fetch it, showing a ticket which mentioned how many persons were to be supplied. When horse-flesh first began to be used by the officers, Colonel Peakman, presiding at mess, said cheerfully: “Gentlemen, very sorry we can’t supply you all with beef to-day. Beef this end, very nice joint of horse the other end. Please try it.” But the officers all applied for beef, as the Colonel had feared they would.
Then suddenly, when all had finished, he banged his hand on the table, and said: “By Jove! I see I have made a mistake in the joints. This is the capital joint of horse which I am carving! Dear! dear! I wanted so to taste the horse, but—what! not so bad after all? Then you will forgive me, I am sure, for being so stupid.”
All the same, some of them thought that the Colonel had made the mistake on purpose, just to get them past the barrier of prejudice.
Towards the end of January the bombardment grew more severe; the shells came from many quarters, and some were shrapnel, which caused many wounds. The new gun made by the De Beers Company did its best to reply, but it was only one against eight or nine. The Boers confessed that they directed their fire to the centre of the town, where there were mostly only women and children, for the men were away from home in the forts or behind the earthworks. The townsfolk tried to improve their shell-proof places, but most of them were deadly holes, hot and stuffy beyond description, but that made by Mr. Rhodes around the Public Gardens was far superior to the rest. The De Beers gun was named “Long Cecil,” after Mr. Rhodes, and was about 10 feet long; it threw a shell weighing 28 pounds. When it was first fired, the great question was, “Will it burst?”
But the Boers were surprised, when they sat at breakfast in a safe spot, to hear shells dropping around like ripe apples. That breakfast was left unfinished, as an intercepted letter informed the garrison.
However, the Boers soon placed a bigger gun near Kimberley, and shells began to fall in the market-place very freely.
In February the garrison had a great loss. The last shell of that day fell into the Grand Hotel and killed George Labram, the De Beers chief engineer. It was Labram who had arranged for the new water-supply, who had made the new shells, and planned “Long Cecil.” He was to Kimberley what Kondrachenko was to the Russians at Port Arthur—a man of many inventions, an American, ready at all points. He had just gone upstairs to wash before dinner, when a shell entered and cut him to ribbons, so that he died instantly. A servant of the hotel was in his room at the time, and was not touched.
Towards the middle of February notices signed by Cecil Rhodes were posted up all over the town to the effect that women and children should take shelter in the two big mines. So very soon the streets were full of people running to the mines with babies, blankets, bread, and bedding. The crowd was so great that it took from 5.30 p.m. to midnight to lower them all down the shafts. Kimberley mine took more than 1,000, the De Beers mine 1,500, and all were lowered without a single accident.
One day some natives came in with a story that the Boers had deserted the fort Alexandersfontein. Spies were sent out to investigate, and reported it to be a fact, so some of the Town Guard, with help from the Lancashires, sallied out and took possession of the fort. A few Boers who had been left there were wounded or taken prisoners.
“We will wait a bit in this fort, boys, to see what will turn up,” said the Captain; and in a short time they saw four waggons coming up, which were driven unsuspiciously right into his hands. Other waggons followed, all full of most delicious dainties for Boer stomachs, but likely to be received in starving Kimberley with greater enthusiasm—such things as poultry, grain, butter, fresh vegetables, and bacon. The waggons were drawn by fat bullocks—a sight for mirth and jollity.