About a week previous to our leaving Kalfontein No. 3 Section B Company, who had been left at Irene with A Company, were sent to garrison Zurfontein, a few miles down the line, and we joined them there, the whole of us then marching to this place, which is the terminus of a branch of the main line running eastward, and is situated about twenty-five miles from Johannesburg. I should have mentioned that we left a few of our men at Kalfontein to help to garrison the place until further orders. We stayed at Elandsfontein and Boksburg on the way here, and the men who had been through such exciting scenes so recently in these places naturally took a great interest in them and ‘fought their battles o’er again.’
We have had rather an exciting time of it on two occasions since being quartered here. On the 11th inst. we sent out a patrol of six men under Captain Chamney, and just as they got to the top of a bit of rising ground they found themselves within a few hundred yards of an approaching body of the enemy, who no sooner saw our men than they let ’em have it with their Mausers. There was nothing for it but to turn and get away as quickly as possible, and this the patrol did, managing once again to elude the bullets. The Boers followed, but soon gave up the game, as it was only a few miles from the town, and they evidently did not consider it good enough to venture too close. On getting out of range and up to the next rise our patrol halted and sent a man back to report matters to Colonel Ross, and, after staying out about an hour to see if there were any more signs of the enemy, they returned to camp. A larger patrol was sent out during the day, but saw no signs of Boers, these gentry evidently having returned to the adjacent hills. A small farmhouse, from behind which our men were shot at, was burnt down; but this did not have much effect, as another of our patrols was fired on two days afterwards near the same place, and this time we were not so fortunate, as Private Walton, of No. 3 Section B Company, was shot through the right thigh and got another bullet through his hat, just shaving his skull. He managed to ride into camp with the others, but will have a long spell in hospital, I fancy. His wound was dressed as soon as he got into camp, and next day he was sent on to Johannesburg.
This is one of the coldest places we have struck so far, and early morning patrols and night pickets are consequently more unpopular than ever. There is one great consolation, however, and that is we can get good and cheap draught beer here; this is a luxury we have not indulged in for ages, so, needless to say, the thirsty ones are having a great time.
The special correspondent of the ‘Englishman’ treats one of the incidents above referred to in a lighter vein:
In the middle of July our detachment at Springs, where there had been a good deal of desultory fighting, had some fun for their money. They went out patrolling one day, a dozen or so strong. A farmhouse loomed in the distance, and as the magnetic pole draws the needle so did this innocent, nestling farm draw the patrol. If you live on biscuits for a month you develop a craving for bread. Same with everybody, from General down to mule-drivers. It would be side on the part of Lumsden’s Horse to hold aloof from any popular taste, and as one leary-nosed tea planter said he smelt dough, the patrol rode for that farmhouse, animated by the noble sentiment that the devil might take the hindmost. But this time the devil nearly copped the leader, for the Boers opened at short range from stone walls near the farmhouse. A patrol’s duty being to locate the enemy, and not to die valorously or otherwise, our men turned tail, thought of their misdeeds, and streaked for home. Unluckily C.F. Walton, of B Company, bestrode an Argentine which feared neither Boer nor bullet. The brute wouldn’t budge under the fire, and Walton received a hail of lead all to himself. One bullet struck his hat, cutting the bottom of the crack—our squashed Cashmere ones—clean away, shedding his hair in a way that no brushing will alter, for it shaved a line clean along his scalp. Just as he got his horse on the move he was struck again, in the thigh, but managed to gallop away without further mishap. Examination proved that the bullet had gone right through the upper part of his leg, inflicting a severe but not dangerous wound. Walton is now in hospital and doing well.
Fuller details and a more consecutive narrative of other events are given by a correspondent of the ‘Madras Daily Mail,’ who writes:
Our duties are not only to guard the station and railway line and patrol the country, but also to furnish observation posts, whose duty it is to report the movements of any bodies of men they may see; the patrols also demanding the production of passes from anyone—native or white man—whom they may meet. The Boers are not far off, and life is not without its excitement; for on two occasions our patrols have been fired on, once getting a particularly hot reception and being chased for a considerable distance. One man in particular had a narrow escape when the enemy—who were lying in wait for the patrol—suddenly charged down over the top of a neighbouring ridge. He was in the middle of a small copse ahead of his companions and did not see the Boers, who galloped round on each flank of the wood, and, dismounting just this side of it, commenced firing at the rest of the patrol. Hearing the rifles so close, he attempted[attempted] to return, and found, on getting to the edge of the wood, that he was cut off by a line of men along a wire fence, who fortunately were so busy firing that they did not see him. He eventually made a dash for it from the upper end of the wood, coming out behind the Boers and making a long detour. Of course, directly he got clear of the wood he was seen and became a target for all their rifles, but he got safely away.
During a prolonged stay in a place like this we manage to make ourselves very comfortable. In the vicinity of Kaalfontein the farmhouses were for the most part deserted and had been left just as they stood. From these farmhouses we are always allowed to help ourselves to useful and non-valuable articles, such as cooking utensils and eatables; so what with chickens, ducks, &c., while the live-stock held out, and most excellent mutton issued as rations, not to mention an occasional porker (bought from the Kaffirs) or haunch of venison (shot by one of the officers), our larder was well stocked, while extras in the way of groceries could be obtained from an enterprising Jew storekeeper, who would drive round with his stores. Then, too, bivouacs and shelters of all sorts can be rigged up, and very welcome they were at the time, as during June and the beginning of July the cold was intense.
At Springs, the terminus of a branch line from Elandsfontein Junction through Boksburg, together with four companies of the 8th Mounted Infantry and the Canadians, we remained six days. Here the Boers were rather closer than they had been at Kaalfontein, and it was the rule rather than the exception for the patrols to be fired on. One morning our patrol was shot at from a farmhouse flying a white flag, the advance scouts being only 150 yards distant; one of them, Trooper Walton (Mysore and Coorg Rifles), received a bullet through his thigh and another right through the crown of his hat, actually cutting the hair along the top of his head, but he managed to get away without further injury. On receiving the news Colonel Ross immediately sent out a strong patrol with a pom-pom and burnt the house to the ground, but saw nothing of the enemy, who are always careful not to interfere with a strong patrol, their plan being to allow a small party to approach their ambush and then suddenly open fire, hoping to empty a few saddles. Fortunately, however, it is not easy to hit a man on horseback at an unknown range or else the Boers are uncommonly bad shots, for our patrols have now been fired upon on seven or eight different occasions at comparatively close range and only one man has been hit. One afternoon a party of Boers, about thirty in number, were seen by the look-out man coming down to a Kaffir kraal, about three miles out. Lumsden’s Horse were ordered to saddle up immediately and give chase. The Boers, however, did not wait. They had evidently come down to get mealies from the Kaffirs, as we found some bags they had dropped in their haste.
