The mail cart I learned started for Natal the next evening, so I spent the day in taking my farewells and in preparing for my journey. The mail was, however, delayed, and did not leave until two o’clock in the morning, Dr. Crow very kindly sitting up to see me safely away. At last we started for Pieter Maritzburg, when bidding the genial doctor “Good bye” and Pretoria adieu we rattled away at full gallop, with 450 miles of South African road before us.
CHAPTER XXIX.
LEAVE PRETORIA.—A TRYING SITUATION.—HEIDELBERG, STANDERTON.—MICHAELSON’S.—BOER CAMP AT LAING’S NEK.—MAJUBA ONCE MORE.—NEWCASTLE.—MARITZBERG, PLOUGH HOTEL.—D’URBAN.—VOYAGE TO THE CAPE.—CURIOUS MENTAL PHENOMENON.—RETURN TO KIMBERLEY.
The mail cart by which I left Pretoria was so arranged that the passengers sat back to back, but as there was the driver besides myself only. I was obliged to sit at the back to preserve the balance. Feeling very weak I tied myself in with a rope, which, having passed round my waist, I fastened to either side of the tent of the cart, so that whatever might happen, I could not be thrown out. The road to Six Mile Spruit was very smooth, the night dark, and being dead tired out, I fell to sleep at once; Morpheus, however, did not long hold me in his arms, for my slumbers were soon disturbed. I was suddenly awakened to the fact that something had gone wrong. Collecting my scattered senses, I saw at once that the driver had outspanned the horses, and tied them up, two to each wheel, where, neighing and kicking with fright, they were pulling and swaying the cart about in opposite directions to get loose, till at last over it went, and all four horses tore themselves free and broke away at a bound. Fortunately uninjured, yet unable to get out by myself, I laid tied up fast in the cart, until at dawn of day the driver, who had been sleeping in the stable of a farm-house close by, came to inspan again. Seeing the cart upset, the horses gone, he naturally looked to see where I was, and releasing me from my awkward predicament, went to seek for his horses. The farmer himself next appeared on the scene, one of the fattest, jolliest, old fellows I have ever met. He paid me more kind attention than I could ever have expected, and insisted on my going to his house, where we drank cup after cup of coffee until the sun was well up. Von Schalkveigh, for that was his name, once an Old Colony farmer, had been loyal to the backbone during the war.
At last, the horses being found, my driver made up for lost time, and after two or three changes of animals, we drove up to the “Royal Hotel” at Heidelberg just as the rain was commencing to pour in torrents.
This is a neat village of about 250 inhabitants. The Blesbok Spruit, which nearly encircled it, formed quite a picture in the foreground, while the background was filled up by the hills over which we had just come. Heidelberg had always been described to me as an oasis in the desert, my informants applying that term to it both from its natural beauties and from the geniality of its residents. It did not take me long to find out it was a colony composed almost entirely of thrifty, well-to-do Scotchmen, who had chosen, with considerable cuteness, the best position for miles round on which to settle.
Mr. MacLaren, the “institution” of the place, a prosperous merchant, and I can say without fear of contradiction one of the most hospitable Scotchmen in South Africa, invited me to lunch. His kindness to the English officers brought here as prisoners of war, after the Dutch success at Majuba, was a matter of common report. It was well known if he had not entertained them as guests of his own, they would have been confined in the common gaol. Such kindness at such a time cannot be over estimated. Here the Boers had their headquarters during the war, the Dutch flag having been hoisted at the beginning of the revolt, without resistance or bloodshed, on Durgaan’s Day, December 16th, 1880.
During the war the Boers behaved very creditably to the townsfolk, treating them well and paying for everything which they got from the stores. Round about they made laagers to defend the place, possession of which our troops from force of circumstances were unable to even attempt to gain.
It was still raining when we drove away, and just as darkness was closing round we outspanned at a farm-house where we stayed the night. The next afternoon we came to Standerton on the Vaal River.
