I did not know at that time that the town was a pestilential, bacillus-soaked headquarters for disease, or that far too many of those who smiled upon us hated us bitterly, and were even then engaged in encouraging the Boers, conveying information to them, and sneaking out at night to fight with the enemy or to snipe our outposts. In a word, though I had studied the Boer more closely and longer than any other London correspondent, I had not measured the breadth and depth of his contempt for truth, honour, and fair play. Therefore I wrote the letter to Miss Bloemfontein which, with certain other contributions to that day's paper, is herewith republished.
On this day the advertisements for what were then called "lost" horses already numbered three, and, already, we published a communication headed "Loot News" in which was stated the fact that the horse-stealing had become so bold that a horse had actually been taken from in front of the Club.
"Please note the following," the reporter wrote, "Section I, clause 1, of the newly promulgated constitution of the city without a Steyn—A man may kill a man and live, but a man who steals a horse may not live." Whether there will occur an opportunity in this book to explain how the neighbourhood of the Boers affected the moral atmosphere and demoralised our earlier views of property rights, especially in horse-ownership, I cannot yet say, but whenever the tale is told it will be discovered to be extraordinary.
THE FRIEND.
(Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force.)
BLOEMFONTEIN, SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 1900.
LINES BY RUDYARD KIPLING.
MARCH 17, 1900.
ST. PATRICK'S DAY.
Oh! Terence dear, and did you hear
The news that's going round?
The Shamrock's Erin's badge by law,
Where'er her sons be found.