Judge Hertzog then showed that the presence of the General was urgently required in the western district, and other members of the Executive Council remarked that if he left the north-eastern portions of the State for a while the people there would get some rest, and that, so far from taking it amiss if he went away, they would be glad if he should absent himself for some time. And now a strange thing happened. This inflexible man, who never lost his presence of mind and always knew immediately what course of action to pursue, said, "Well, then, I leave the matter in your hands. You must decide."
Of course everyone took the responsibility upon himself, and General de Wet remained with us. How secure we all felt!
In the afternoon we met with the burghers of Commandant van der Merwe, who had been driven from Parys and Vredefort over the railway line some months before, and who had remained in the Heilbron district since then. The Commandant and his men wanted to get back, and were overjoyed when General de Wet ordered them to accompany him. When it became dark we proceeded on our way in order to break through the Heilbron-Frankfort line of blockhouses to the east of the town of Heilbron.
All went well. In complete silence—no officer has need to enjoin silence when men are marching to blockhouses or the railway—we approached the line. We expected every moment to hear shots; but nothing happened. The foremost men had halted. A burgher cut the wires. Just as one of the wires was cut the reports of two shots fell on the silence of the night in quick succession. They were fired from rifles attached to the wire. We waited a moment. But all was still. No other shot rang out, and we passed through swiftly.
After riding a few hours farther over an apparently endless plain, well named Langverdriet (Long-sorrow), we off-saddled shortly before sunrise on a farm in a hollow, with the blockhouses seven miles behind us.
The morning of the 6th of March had now dawned. After breakfasting we proceeded until twelve o'clock, and then rested till the sunset. We then mounted our horses once more, and at eleven o'clock we were a few thousand yards from the railway at a point somewhere between Wolvehoek (station) and Vaal River. General de Wet did not wish to cross just then, as he was of opinion that the guards on the line would be too wakeful, and he ordered that we should halt there till one o'clock. We thereupon tied our horses to one another and lay down on the ground. I fell asleep immediately. Shortly before one o'clock I was awakened by a sound which I had not heard for months—that of a passing train. What memories mounted in my mind, and how the hot blood surged in my veins at the thought that our railway was in the hands of the enemy! The order was given to mount, and we rode on to about four hundred yards from the line.
Halt!
A party of Commandant van der Merwe's men went on foot to cut the wires. This was done. The whole commando now rushed to the line. It must have been the tramp of our horses that woke the sentries, for when we had already reached the line a shot rang out. We passed through a ditch and then up a very slight embankment; and I saw again, as I had already seen several times before, the two rails glide under me to the rear. A feeling of relief took possession of me. The half of the commando had crossed when shots from three rifles were heard from a railway cottage in the direction of Wolvehoek, and the foremost men halted till all should have crossed. But soon we heard the rattle of a Maxim, and everyone then hurried on.
We could still occasionally hear the Maxim; but at last it ceased, or else we were too far off to hear its vicious cackling. We off-saddled at sunrise, six miles from the line.
In the course of the day we reached the farm of Salamon Senekal, two and a half hours from the railway and one hour from the town of Parys, grateful to God for His protection.