“I am Jack Somerton, a despatch-rider, and now a prisoner in your hands,” Jack answered coolly. “Where are your despatches?”
“I don’t know, general,” was Jack’s calm reply, for, sharp of wit, he had torn and scattered his papers on the veldt the instant after being taken prisoner.
“Search him!” cried General Cronje. And then, as soon as Jack’s clothes had been thoroughly examined, he ordered him to be taken away.
Careless of the black looks with which the general favoured him, Jack swept his hat off and stalked unconcernedly out of the tent. He was then taken across to a large wagon laager, and given in charge of an armed sentry.
Ten days passed quietly, and during that time he was well treated, and was on good terms with his captors. On the 14th of the month there was a sudden stir in the camp, and mounted men galloped in and out.
“What is the matter?” Jack asked the young sentry who was in charge of him.
“Our scouts say that your countrymen are moving,” the Boer replied. “General French—that is what you call him, I think,—has been active. He and a lot of English guns and horsemen marched on Sunday to Ramdan, and next day pushed on to the Riet river. There was a fight, and we gave way, as it is not policy to prevent a foolish man running his nose into a trap. I hear he is now at the Rondeval Drift, on the Modder River, where we are again playing with him. Some fools here say he threatens our flank, but our general knows better. You will see, we shall eat up your general, and then we shall march south to Cape Town.”
Jack did not correct him, but smiled secretly, hoping and believing that the big movement of which he had carried the first tidings to Kimberley and Mafeking was at last actually begun. He knew that for more than a month much work had been going on in the British camp, and if the news he had just learnt were really true, it was extremely probable that Roberts and his troops were about to strike that blow at the Boer forces which should mean the turning of the tide, and a full compensation for all the care and thought taken in making their preparations.
On the following morning a wild-looking Boer galloped up to General Cronje, who was sitting smoking and sipping coffee outside his tent, and in an excited voice informed him that the British had crossed the Modder and had captured five laagers, full of stores, 2000 sheep, and a large number of cattle.
Jack happened to be near the general at the time, and his guard, who was a friendly young Boer, interpreted what was said.