“Courage, boys, and caution,” whispered Ned, as they paused for a moment outside the gate. “Let me conduct the palaver as much as possible with this ponderous Machiavelli.”
“Right you are, Ned,” answered his chum in awestruck tones. “I wish we were safe back in the tronk, though.”
“So do I.”
Kruger, the man who could spoof Great Britain, and drive his own people like a flock of sheep, appeared, before they saw him in their imagination, to be almost as colossal a character as their ideal hero, Cecil Rhodes. Throughout Africa these two giants stood facing each other, while the rest of the world watched and waited the result of their deadly duel. Kruger, the champion of everything that was despicable, oppressive, and false; Rhodes, the champion of chivalry, humanity, and progress.
Kruger had won his past triumphs by treachery and unscrupulous steadfastness. He stood like a rock, defying reform. Rhodes also was another rock, guarding the lands outside this camp of treason. Kruger had been able to humbug the Imperial Government, and get what he wanted from them easily; but he could not humbug this sleepless and powerful watcher.
Kruger had his agents and spies everywhere; so also had Rhodes. He was fighting this Boer with his own weapons.
Kruger was rich, but he liked to hoard his capital, and get as much as he could for nothing or by promises. Cecil Rhodes spent his wealth lavishly.
Kruger was working for his own hand, and with the malignant purpose of weakening his enemy and causing discord amongst the nations. Rhodes had devoted his life and his wealth for his country’s welfare, and for the security of Africa. The one was a tyrant of the worst order; the other was inspired by the purest and most disinterested patriotism. The one was distrusted and disliked generally all round, even by a large section of his subjects; the other was universally respected and loved for his courage, brain-power, and unimpeachable honesty.
Our heroes had seen for a few moments the first champion of civilisation; they were now about to look upon his antagonist, the impious father of lies.
There was an air of stillness and depression about the place, which these two immovable policemen accentuated. The shady verandah looked dark almost in contrast with the blazing brightness outside. As the boys looked under the branches, the idea occurred to them that they were about to enter the web of a gigantic human spider. They could get in easy enough, but how would they come out?