"Oom, I am eight, and going on for nine."
Such things happened in this war of ours, and England's boys of eight and nine—those who were not left to their fate, with cold, blue, bare feet, in the snow and ice on the streets of her great cities—did their mothers snugly tuck them in their warm beds? But the mothers of our children knew to what danger their boys were exposed, of being torn from their arms and mercilessly carried off; and rather than see this happen, they sent them away from their warm beds, to hear at midnight sounds and see sights that the ears and eyes of strong men could hardly bear.
That day the English remained where they were, but on the following they proceeded and formed the great cordon on the bank of Cornelis River.
Commandant Hermanus Botha then found an opportunity to bury our dead on the battlefield.
There had been a drive at the same time on the west of Wilge River, from Scheurklip to Britsberg, and from there in a segment east of Kroonstad to Lindley. This operation was the largest drive the English had hitherto made. A few days after he had broken through, General de Wet found an opportunity of examining the forts of the enemy. He found that they had been such a protection to them, and so formidable to us, that he wondered that more of our men had not been killed.
While he was viewing the forts burghers rode past from time to time, and informed him that during the preceding night (25th February) 500 burghers had dashed through the cordon at Sterkfontein near the sources of Cornelis River. We also heard that General Wessels had escaped near Steil Drift without firing a shot, and somewhat later news came that General Hattingh of Kroonstad had forced a passage, with all his men and a considerable number of cattle, to the west of Lindley.
These tidings encouraged us, but what a blow it was when soon after we heard that Commandant Meyer, who had command of a portion of the Harrismith burghers, had surrendered on the 27th not far from Tandjesberg. We heard the particulars from an eye-witness, Patrick van Coller. He had escaped, and had seen the sad incident from a hill on which he had hidden himself. He said that he saw a man with a white flag ride from the commando to the English. Thereupon these rode to the burghers. The rifles were first demanded, then the saddles. The latter were burnt in seven heaps. Our men were then marched to Harrismith as prisoners-of-war.
We afterwards heard that there had been five or six burghers who would not surrender and who had raced away. They had succeeded in escaping, notwithstanding that they had been pursued by the enemy.
From time to time news reached us of remarkable escapes. I will only mention the following case.
Old Mr. Hendrik Barnard, who was between seventy and eighty years old, was one of the great number of fugitives. He had fled with a cart until he was forced to abandon it on the near approach of the English. Then he hid himself in the reeds on the banks of a spruit. There he lay for two days. Luckily he had with him a faithful Kaffir lad who cared for him as a child. If the old man looked out to see whether the English were near, the Kaffir boy would warn him, saying, "Look out, oû bâas! the Khakis will see you." Mr. Barnard had a little food with him, but not enough. This was replenished after dark by the Kaffir boy, who fetched from a neighbouring farm what they needed. Thus two days passed, and then, with all manner of pain in all his limbs, occasioned through the cramped position he had been forced to take, the old man could leave his hiding-place.