Presently a small party of scouts left the camp and came in our direction, riding slowly, and eyeing every little rise or depression in the ground with the utmost distrust. They reached a farmhouse lying between their camp and ourselves, and after a while we saw a cart leave the farm and drive towards the camp. Another Boer laying down his arms, beguiled by Buller's blarney! Then the scouts came nearer and nearer. When within a thousand yards or so they encountered a troop of mares grazing on the veld. Round and round these they rode, plainly intending to annex any that might suit them. My friends were strongly tempted to fire on these cattle thieves. Only the thought of their aged parents restrained them, for they well knew the result would be the burning down of their home.
It was plain that the scouts were making for this farm. We hurried down to the house, saddled our horses—mine still suffering and hardly able to go at a trot, and went to say good-bye to our hosts.
"Yes, my children," said the old lady, "it is better to go, for should the British find you here they would only treat us the worse for it. And we have sorrow enough, God knows. Come and see my son, my sick and suffering son, who perhaps will never rise from his bed again!"
She conducted us into a bed-chamber, where, pallid and worn, his wife seated by his side, lay the wreck of a once splendid specimen of manhood, now, alas! in the last stage of some wasting disease—the result of privations endured on commando. All that we could do was to speak a few weak but well-meant words of comfort to the afflicted family, and then leave them to their fate.
The sons promised to follow us later, as they wished to remain in the neighbourhood to see what became of their home. My friend and myself rode to another farm in the neighbourhood, undecided as yet whether to make the attempt to get through the enemy's lines or to turn back; crossing Roberts' lines of communication in the Free State was easy enough, but here we had Buller to deal with. Upon reaching this farm we found the occupants greatly excited. A Hottentot had just arrived from a farm already visited by the enemy, bearing Buller's proclamation, printed in Dutch and English, and promising protection, compensation, and I know not what all, to those who came in and surrendered. The entire household and several armed Boers from the vicinity gathered round the farmer. No one dared to read the proclamation aloud. It was handed from one to the other, shamefacedly, as if there were something vile in the very touch of the document.
I anxiously watched the varying expression of their features, as interest struggled with patriotism. Wearied of strife and fearful of losing the result of years of hard work, the assembled men felt a strong inclination to accept the enemy's offer. But no one dared give utterance to his feelings. Eye met eye, and glanced away. It was easy to see what the result would be. It was plainly my duty to protest, but what could I do, a stranger, a mere youth? What could I say to these men, who had already given proof of their devotion on many a bloody field, and who only recoiled now when brought face to face with the supreme test—the sacrifice of their hearths and homes? I ventured to point out, however, that those who had already surrendered now bitterly regretted it, and added that the very nature of the case made it impossible for the British to carry out their promises. They listened in silence. My words may have had some slight effect; in any case, the Hottentot was sent back without a definite reply. It was useless to expect any aid from these men. Leaving them to decide their own fate, we started back for the Free State.
ARRESTED AS SPIES
A couple of hours' riding, then the farm of an old field-cornet, where we off-saddled and bought a few bundles of forage for our horses. The field-cornet entered into conversation with us whilst our animals were feeding, but omitted to ask us into the house, and kept eyeing us in a puzzled manner, as though we had dropped from Mars. I know not what my companion thought of it, or if he thought at all, but I myself put the old man's strange manner down to a sort of speechless admiration, and accepted it as such. But I was mistaken.
When our friend shook hands with us he did so very limply, and as far as we went he could be seen gazing after us.