“We’re strangers,” he exclaimed excitedly, “but for all that we are brothers! My God, how I have longed for the sight of an honest Englishman! and last night, if I had thought that by being carried away by that lion I should have met one, I almost think I should have been glad if the beast had picked me up and walked off with me. And they tell me I have to thank you for my life, and that you tackled the lion alone, and so fell into their hands. I’m sorry that you should be a prisoner, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to have a comrade.”
“Yes; it’s an awful sell to find myself a prisoner when I had covered so much of the journey,” Jack answered; “but I suppose it’s for the best. I should have died if I had been left here alone. But tell me about yourself. The Boer doctor said you had been commandeered against your will.”
“That is true. My name is Guy Richardson, and I’ve lived all my life in the Transvaal. But for all that, Father and I are British to the backbone, and would sooner shoot ourselves than fight against our countrymen. But I’ll tell you all about it if you like, and if you feel strong enough to listen.”
“Just push something under my head, so that I can look at you without straining my neck,” said Jack. “That’s it, thank you! Now, fire away; I shall be delighted to hear the tale. But first of all let me tell you that my name is Jack Somerton, and that you’ve nothing to thank me for. You forget that you were the only one of all the Boers who stood your ground when the lion sprang into the kraal.”
“That’s true, Somerton,” Guy Richardson agreed; “but for all that I know that I owe my life to you. But now that you are comfortable, I’ll go ahead with the yarn. To begin with, I must explain that Father came to the Transvaal five years before the annexation by Sir Theophilus Shepstone, and as soon as the Boer trouble was over, and the Transvaal had become a republic, he became a naturalised burgher, for he found it was a necessity if he wished to prosper in business. I was born quite close to Johnny’s Burg, and can speak the Boer tongue as well as our own. We got on pretty well with our neighbours, but our sympathies have been with the Uitlanders, and when matters got to such a pass that war seemed probable, it became a question as to whether we should follow Mother down to Durban. But to take that step would mean absolute ruin, for all our property would be confiscated by the Transvaal Government; so, after a long discussion, Father and I decided to stay, on the distinct understanding that we were not to bear arms against the British. For a week after the ultimatum we were employed as town guards in Johnny’s Burg. Then we were commandeered for service, for every available man was wanted to make good the losses the Boers had suffered. For another week we were kept in laager near Pretoria, and then we were separated, Father being dragged down south, while I was compelled to accompany this commando. We were in desperate straits, but we swore we would never fire a shot against the English.
“What has happened to Father I do not know. For myself I should have escaped long ago, but each one of these Boers has instructions to shoot me on suspicion of such an attempt, and they watch me constantly. It is awful, Somerton! If we meet the British troops these fiends will stand behind me and shoot me if I refuse to fight.”
“Good heavens, you don’t say so!” Jack exclaimed indignantly. “To force a man to fight against his own flesh and blood is simply monstrous!”
“It’s true all the same,” replied Guy Richardson dejectedly. “There are hosts more like myself. Good Englishmen, who know that this war has been wilfully forced on the empire by the Boers, and who are determined to escape from their adopted Republic and fight for the queen. But we are all carefully watched, and I fear that more than one of the poor fellows have lost their lives. Only a few days ago I heard that they have been forced to fight in the most exposed positions, and these men here have threatened that I shall have such a post. If a bullet finds me out when I am fighting for England I shall not grumble, but if I am to be struck down by my own people, would rather shoot myself. It is awful, but I have sworn never to fire a gun for these brutes, and I will stick to that determination.”
“Tell me where you have been,” said Jack. “From the fact of this being such a small commando, I imagine there are none of our troops near at hand. I was riding up to meet Plumer’s force.”
“We have been on a visit to the natives, Somerton,” Guy Richardson replied, “and although I have not been told the motive, it is easy to guess that the Boers wish to stir them up so as to increase our difficulties. We are now returning to Pretoria. I am thankful that I have broken my arm, for now they will not be able to send me to the front. I wish, though, I could find out what has happened to Father.”