March 9th.
To weary you with a further continuation of the experiences of a forlorn Yeoman, who, having drifted from Pretoria, now finds himself on the sands of Maitland, with a distant and tantalising view of the sea and its ships, seems an unworthy thing to do. But, alas! I have acquired a terrible habit of letter-writing. News or no news, given the opportunity, I religiously once a week contribute to the English mail bag; so here goes for a really short letter.
On Thursday, having endured as much toothache as I deemed expedient without complaint, and goaded on by a sleepless night, I paraded before the doctor, and having borne with him moderately and half satisfied his credulity, obtained from him a note to a Cape Town dentist for the following day. I am now in that being's hands, he has considerately assured me that no man is a hero to his own dentist.
In Cape Town there are two topics—the town guard and the plague, known as bubonic; owing to the latter, great is the stink of disinfectants.
I have already made allusions to the "Sisters' Albums" and the contributions which they levied. Here at McKenzie's Farm, I have struck another style of book. This is run by Sergeant-Major Fownes (10th Hussars) who is in charge of all of the Yeomanry at the base. It is a "Confession Book," containing reasons "Why I joined the Imperial Yeomanry" and "Why I left." It has been contributed to by members of nearly every I.Y. squadron in South Africa. Thanks to the courtesy of its owner, I am able to give you a selection from its contents, omitting the names and squadrons of the contributors only.[Back to Contents]
- 'Twas a glorious life on the veldt, So unrestrained and free. (Note. Read opposite page.)
- 'Twas grand to lie 'neath the star-lit sky In a blanket warm and nice.
- 'Twas exciting to gallop over the plains To the music of the Mausers.
- Bully beef and biscuits are all very well, And so, for a time, is jam.
- That after twelve months of the same I felt It was not the life for me.
- That when you wanted to go to sleep, You're scratching and hunting for l—ce.
- That 'twas very unpleasant to ride all day When you'd lost the seat of your trousers.
- That to get nothing else for more than six months, Would make any fellow say "D——!"
In a few days all the men marked for home will be leaving, and to those they will be leaving behind them the yearning to be on the sea once again, seems stronger than ever,