With Steyn and De Wet

by F. F. Pienaar

"Oh, my wife and children!" sighed another.

"Cheer up, boys!" interrupted the commandant. "Our country first, you know."

That afternoon we joined a small commando lying near the railway between Potchefstroom and Frederikstad. It numbered barely a hundred men, but they had with them a bomb-Maxim and a Krupp. At midnight we got orders to march for the hills near Frederikstad, where we arrived at dawn. Here we were reinforced by a score of burghers, and we continued our way, keeping in a parallel with the railway, but behind some intervening hills. Presently a scout came in and reported the enemy in sight.

"Forward!" ordered the commandant, and forward we raced along through the veld, keeping a look-out for holes. One youngster's horse went down, the rider turning a beautiful somersault. Shouts of laughter greeted his exploit, but he quickly remounted, and was one of the first to reach the hill for which we were making, and which dominated the railway. Keeping the Nordenfeldt in reserve, we opened fire with Krupp and small-arms on the advance guard of the enemy.

We did not know at the time that we were tackling Lord Methuen and five thousand men, but such was the case. Of course we made a very poor show; what can you expect? But anyhow, we engaged them for about two hours. Then their cavalry came on with a rush, and we were compelled to give way. It was only with the greatest difficulty that we saved the guns, and we only succeeded in doing so, I presume, because the enemy were not aware of our real numbers. Our waggons fled to one side of the line whilst we remained on the other, with absolutely nothing to eat. By buying a few eggs and other small produce from the natives we managed to subsist until the third day, when we crossed the railway, marched all night, and rejoined our waggons at dawn. To slaughter sheep and cook porridge did not take long; hearty is the only word to describe the meal we made. Then we moved round and joined Liebenberg, who, with six hundred men, had just retaken Klerksdorp without firing a shot. But then, the place was garrisoned by only forty English, and resistance would have been of no avail.

We hung about the neighbourhood of Potchefstroom for about two weeks, anxiously waiting for the word to be given to attack the town, but Liebenberg confined his tactics to making an appearance in sight of the town and retreating as soon as the enemy came out to give battle. This kept the enemy on the qui vive, it is true, but it also tired out our horses, and we soon grew weary of it. We had several lively little skirmishes, however. One day about forty of us were detached to go and bombard a British gun which stood on the other side of the town, whilst the rest of our commando approached the town on this side. We were sitting down quite comfortably under a tree below our gun, eating bread and dripping, listening to the duel and smiling at the high aim of the British gunners, when the look-out shouted—"Here's the enemy behind us!"

The gun was rapidly limbered up and we rode to the top of the hill. Across the valley about a hundred horsemen were stealthily stealing up Vaal Kop, evidently with the intention of taking us in the rear. We halted and gave them a couple of shells, to which they very promptly replied.

"Commandant," said one of my comrades, "let's charge them. They're not too many for us."

"No," was the reply; "it's best to be prudent."

"Well, I'm going to have a smack at them, anyway! Coming along?" he shouted to me, and without waiting for a reply, started down the valley. I followed him, and we cut across over the loose stones at a breakneck pace, not making straight for the enemy, but for a rocky ridge whence our fire could reach them. As we climbed the ridge we were joined by two others. When we got to the top we saw about forty horsemen in the valley beyond.