ADVENTURES IN SOUTH AFRICA

New Zealand Mail, 29 January 1902, Page 63

ADVENTURES IN SOUTH AFRICA

BRITISH SOLDIER’S STORY. - (By a Scottish Yeoman.) if was an honr before sunrise, and m ml naR moonlight the veldt flittered hard white frost that had stifled ouV blankets overnight, and made m! buckling of our saddlery as we prepared for the work of the day a difficult Ser for our benumbed fingers. We stamped our feet and swung our arms, «nd brayed, with chattering teeth, as we a streak of white in the eastern sky, that the sun might rise and thaw the iron parth Before the first rays had touened the tops of the neighbouring kopjes, the horse pegs were being hammered out of their hard bed, and we were mounted and ready for what the day might bring forth. The roar of big guns and the rattle of rifles were still in our ears, for we had foiwbt from dawn till dark the day before, and our sleep had been disturbed the whole night long by the creaking of the . ambulance waggons and the cracking of whips as the wounded and dying were brought in from the field. WITH THE NEW ZEALAND RODUHKlDElifci. Occasionally the shriek of some poor Tommy in the agony of death would break upon the startled ear of night, and we would draw our blankets round our ears and wonder it perhaps to-morrow we would be bumping over tiie rocky ground in the shadow of the great red cross. Tomorrow had come, and we were ready with a heart for any fate; but little did I dream that another night would see me in the enemy’s laager on my way to prison. I was with a sexuadron of the New Zealand Rough-Riders, and although I had only known them for a couple of days, we were already old friends, it is wonderful how intimate men become after lying together for twelve hours under shell fire protecting the guns. The colonials are fine fellows, and none are better than the New Zealanders, i'earless in a fight, in camp they are the most sociaole men that one could wish to meet.

We were mounted and awaiting orders, when I was told off with ten of the others to picket a kopje about three miles from the camp, and we rode off', in charge of a sergeant, to relieve tho picket that had held the hill all night. The day was just breaking, but the only other party that was leaving camp that morning seemed to be a burial party of mounted men, a white flag at their head, and picks and shovels slung on their backs, going to bury the men who had fallen in the previous day’s fight. It looked as if hostilities were to bo suspended for the day, and this turned out to be the case. Wo reached our post, relieved the weary picket, posted sentries, and prepared to spend the day cn the hilltop. TWO MOUNTED MEN ON PATKOU duty.

I was for duty again, however, and was ordered to accompany a corporal of the "New Zealanders/',as they called them, selves, on a patrolling expedition along the top of tho long rocky ridge on the end of which we were posted. I took my eoat and every encumberance off my saddle, in order that i might save my horse as much as possible, and set picket shouting instructions about poultry for our dinner, and the sergeant warning cs in a loud voice to “ keep our eyes skinned.”

All went well, and we came to the far end of the ridge without an accident, but we saw Boers in plenty in the valley below us, although they were well out of range—about three miles away. Just . r hill was a small farm, round which the ducks and hens wero taking the morning air, so, while the corporal kept ms glasses on the Boers \ind held the horses, I succeeded in slaying two or three “ ne y° ull S cocks, and having stolen .a email hatchet and a piece of a harn door, lett, followed by the curses of the good vr° UW r anc [ h ;iv j;,g. strapped the loot to my saddle, we set off for home, where we new our friends would be anxiously awaitmg-tnir return to savo them from a dinner of bullv beef.

ambushed by a faktm of boeks. anH 7 \ W f re witMu a mile 0? our picket, behi,, f f d ’ 113I 13 W 0 th °uglit, left the Boers " f 'J’ hen we came to a very bad bit 1 ?ver which our ponies were S’ ng . their way with difficulty, when air-—‘M? unearthly yell pierced tho IrknL-; s , °op! hands oop! you cancrht rUfi,aCS ' aud the drst thing that C f f r ;fl7i eye was the glittering barrel yards in f, yi f ng r a ° ng a rock about fiVe eWv lI , nt of , l: \ e - Tlien 1 saw several l ea< s 9 ud bearded face 9 here and etewasT* ‘I 10 holers, and every evil ilau'ser T i^r 8 aloil S (he ba rrel of a lander" "New Zeahio „ V- looked at me, and dropped a onco b d!d »! th a clatter 011 the rocks 1 WsXck wftk ame ’ an , d then w& sat on -Id 6 ffi£ Ssrs rin dupiicate ** th ,° Boers wero at Vers or weannm/ff 1 '? 8 ?t once for revolto them d 0U i S that might be dangerous the' roe ks oui a b a y°oets they flung fmong found a hmna * 4.1,°? r c knives soon search of ouVn^° ir belts - While this them covered na r . saas went on, two of 1 felt happffirwL th their Mauae rs, and mount. They pointL 6 Tr 60rderedto (hfi ' rocks, and &s w 6 ela ? , way over the tops they folTowep berGd ? V ? r tho hillloaded rifles \y f< ed us up behind with w holo in the rnev ame u° a «»?• cave Wore concealed and w wbero their horses t° mount our w e we re again ordered •led over 4 horses, which thev had t',a'S; r .«>«. hiH« (root Of their saddfL hea< ( f opcs to tho iia '> «'*™»“S e tSl lr m iL e a ’i e ? l ' s ! ,i

a farmhouse across the valley. It was evidently their outpost camp, and as we found out afterwards, was held by about 200 "Zarps," or Johannesburg Police (Zuid Afrikaansche Hepublick Police). VVe were taken before the Commandant at once, and he gave orders that we were to be taken over to the Hooft Laager, or Headquarters Camp, next morning, ce be dealt with by the Commandaift-Cen-eral, Louis Botha.

IN CAMP AS PRIiSONJiRS OF WAR. We were now sitting round the camp fire m the laager of the Johannesburg Police, surrounded by a curious crowd of /arps, who were very anxious to find out how many men wo buried yesterday, the number of our. guns, etc. We told them, ot course, some extraordinary lies, and they returned the compliment by confiding m us that the end of the poor khakis as an army was noc far distant. When they told us that Lord Roberts had gone home sick, that Kitchener was mad, that ■butler was a prisoner,. and that French i Va ‘i j ilos k surrounded we laughed. They looked at us with pity, and shook their r» e i an d one of them told another in Lutch that it was our poor old Queen’s Uish that the “facts” should not be made known to the soldiers in the field.

Our hosts assured us that they were very sorry for the .regular Tommy in our army, who had to tight because ho was a soldier, but had they known that we were irregular volunteers who had come out of our way to light they would not have bothered to take us alive, I felt thanlciul that the I.Y. on m yshoulders was no larger, and could scarcely be read hve yards away. Lancers, they said, would never be taken prisoners by them, but would be shot <n cold blood if found with a lance in the field. They did not consider a lancer a lighting- man at all; he was merely a tmccher, they said, called m after a -victory to slaughter a defeated enemy. It was very interesting to hear the views of. our enemy on these and many other subjects, and we talked and argued till dark. We had some coffee biltong, and lay down to sleep beside the fire, for we had no overcoats, and the nights were very cold. A guard was posted around us, and we were warned that if any attempt to escape were made we would be shot. To emphasise this, each member of the guard proceeded to charge his magazine, and the bolt of eacli rifio was closed with a nasty jar that convinced ns we had better stay where wo wera.

ON THE EOAD ±0 BKONKHOEST SEE, U IT. Sleep was impossible on account of tile icy cold, for wo lay without any covering but a few empty sacks amongst the long, prickly grass. In the early hours of the morning we were glad to sit up close to tlio little fire of cow dung that was still smouldering quietly at our feet. At last daylight came, and after a cup of coffee and a bit of dry bread we were taken oyer to a waggon which was going to the Hocft Laager, about seven miles away Half a dozen stalwart Boers of all ages escorted us, and we set off to Bronkhorstspruit. When we had almost reached the Boers’ headquarters we passed the graves of Major Anstruther and his men who fell in the first encounter of the 1831 war. They pointed, these graces out to us and as I had my own idea of the sort ?! “8“* Jt have been I told them tnat they should be ashamed to think of it, and that the less they said about it the of Hrn, f ln A 011 t 0 al '«ue with one ', llcm , that it was a cowardly, ouesided sort of wholesale murder cn their part, when another of our guard settled the dispute by firing his rifle over the top P, W’ bead, and shouting—“ Shut up, you blasted khaki, with the result that 1 immediately let the question drop. AT THE HEADQUARTERS OE BOTHA’S ARMY.

Soon we approached the headquarters of Botha’s army, which was at the time holding a wide position .about 20 miles east ot Pretoria, which had been evacuated only a few weeks before by the Boers. Their force numbered about 7000 men" and they were being attacked by different columns of our troops over a front of fifteen or twenty miles. Here in the centre of their position sat their Com-mandant-General, Louis Botha, squatting tailor-wise upon the grassy slope by the side of the spruit reading a book, which he laid dotvn as we approached surrounded by our guard. Several of his staff was lying and sitting round about. Our guardrail raised their hats as they approached, the first time we had observed any deference shown by them to superior rank. Ho looked us up and down, and started to cross-question us as to what regiment we belonged to, etc. When I told him that I belonged to the Scottish Yeomanry he said:—"Then, where is your kilt?” and his staff Was at once convulsed with laughter of the sort that shakes the Junior Bar in our Court of Session when a learned Judge condescends to make a joke. Ho asked us several questions, wrote out an order consigning us to prison at Nocitgedacht, ■where he assured us we would be in good company, as there were almost 2000 of our men there already. He told us that he understood that all volunteers on our side were being sent home after the capture of Pretoria, and asked us if this was so. We told him we knew of none who had gone home, and that wo supposed that the volunteers would stay till the war was finished. Then ho said—and I have since found that he was a bit of a prophet—they would be a long time in South Africa. We then saluted him in army fashion, and were marched back to the mule waggon, which was to take us to tho railway. Botha impressed us very much by his soldier-like appearance, and the correctness of his English, which ho spoke very fluently. I noticed that the book which bo was reading was *' The Christian,” by Hall Caine. He was dressed in q khafcicoloured Norfolk jacket, and wore a Imen collar and shirt of spotless white, which accentuated the bronzed face and dark moustache of the most civilised-looking Boer we had yet seen. IN THE PRISON EPS' CAMP AT NOOITGEDACHT. Before we left he sent a man with a

loaf of bread and a tin of cardiiies for each oi us, both of them luxuries that we had not tasted for a considerable time. We were joined by two other prisoners ?u° o° f un * n 2ton’s Scouts and one of the Sussex Iteginjent— who had been with some other column, and we all set off on the top of a waggon for Balmoral Kailway Station, on the fjelagoa Bay Jine, where we were to be put on the train for Aooitgedaclit. We spent two nights, on the way, and miserably cold nights they were. Before we reached the prison 1 succeeded in bartering my . puttee leggings for a Boer’s overcoat, of which I had then more need. W e reached the prison m the forenoon of a sultry winter day. Surrounded on all sides by huge mountains four or five thousand feet in height, the prison lay beside the Crocodile Kiver, 111 « narrow valley, the Bland’s Valley, or White Man’s Grave, the Boers called it, and they 7 comforted us by telling us that, although in winter it was not so unhealthy, in summer no white man could exist there. W hile the railway was 'being built here they assured- us that 70 white men had died in one week. We tried to feel happy over it, and were inarched from the station to a huge enclosure - not many yards away—an old mealie patch of ploughed field about three acres in extent, surrounded by two barbed wire fences about 10 feet high and four feet apart, with a network of barbed wire between. Bound the outside of this stockade, at intervals of abont 20 yards, were tall electric lamp-posts, and walking up and down between each lamp-post was a Boer sentry 7, fondling and caressing his beloved Mauser. Inside the enclosure was a seething crowd of ragged, dirty, halfstarved looking Tommies, who had gathered near the gate to welcome the newcomers to their happy home. After we had been searched again for arms, etc., we were turned in, and the gate closed behmd ns.

A MEETING WITH OL1) FRIENDS. V, e were at once surrounded by an ea<»e r ciou-d anxious to know what corps we belonged to, wnere our columns were, and what likelihood there was of release. \V hen we had satisiied these inquirers we set out to look amongst the curious collection of mud huts and old tarpaulin bivouacs for a party of “ New Zealanders” who had been captured about a week before. \\ e soon found them, about twenty in number, and heard their tale of woe. Iney had only a few old blankets among them, their sole food was a weekly allowance of mealie meal and rice, to a snare of which they made us welcome; but their chief, grievance was that they had no sort of cock pot in which to prepare their food, and very little wood to boil a pot when they managed to borrow one from a more fortunate mess. When we arrived one of them was struggling to boil some porridge in a bucket or tin pail on a very half-hearted sort of lire, which required a good deal of persuasion to burn at all. The winter sun was striking down into the valley with an intensity which is not often felt in this country in midsummer, and we were glad to crawl under some sheets of corrugated iron which our friends had commandeered to form a shelter. Next day* we mani i one of the sentries an old kerosene tin, which was lying in a refuse heap, hard by, and with this treasure we could boil our porridge without having to wait for some one else's pot. I made an excellent substitute for a plate and spoon out of an empty sardine tin, and we settled down to the idle life of gentlemen with no occupation, beyond an occasional, day as cc.ok for the mess.

A SCARCITY OF UNDERCLOTHING. In my rambles I had discovered several men oi the Highland Brigade, and with t iii* 1 u mau y a long and pleasant talk. It has never beeu my lot to meet a more unselfish and altogether likeable man than Tommy Atkins. One of them, seeing that my shirt was in rags, and was 100 far gone to stand a wash, at once ottered me a spare one, which he had brought when captured a few months before. I was never more glad of anythin** mmy life. I only wanted a pair of socks to complete my equipment; but as only about half the prisoners had £.ll y such luxury, I was no worse than the rest. I had worn the clothes I was captured in since March, and as it was now the middle of July, I had no reason to grumble when they insisted on parting companv with me. The days rolled on, and weary days they i\eie. Nothing to do, nothing to read* only one thing to think about as we lav on our back all day with a mound of earth for a pillow, and that one thing was—When will we be released? Where are our troops now? For we knew well that wo were not altogether forgotten by the good old man our Commander-in-Chief. Day after day the sun rolled up above the hill-tops and baked pitilessly down into our evil-smelling, dusty, and insanitary enclosure, and there seemed to be no more prospect of the arrival of our troops. Prisoners caihe in almost daily, but their reports were very conflicting as to the progress of our army. French had been driven back from Belfast wo were told by the sentries. it seemed clear that they were not making the progress we expected, and the middle of August found us still lying on our backs discussing the eternal problem. One or two managed to escape, but weep invariably brought back in a few days, having lo,st themselves in the mountains, and fallen into the hands of the Swazis and other natives employed by the Boers. We determined to wait, as our troops were certain to be down the valley in a few weeks. A draughts board, which wo made t>n tho foot of an old biscuit tin (using our buttons for men) served to pass the time. Many a tale did I hear of tho New Zealand bush and its attractions, and many a time did the bold New Zealanders curse the day they left their native land. At last something happened to relieve the monotony which had hitherto only been broken occasionally by the death of a sick prisoner and the lotting out of some of his comrades to bury him under tho escort of a heavy guard. GENERAL FRENCH TO THE RESCUE. At daybreak one morning about tho end

of August, a heavy boom, like distant thunder, was indistinctly heard. 1 sat up and listened. About ten minutes later a faint boom again sounded in the distance. None of the .New Zealanders would admit that they had-heard anything, so I turned out and found that several were listening, and had heard the sound also. Some dozens were standing about almost holding their breath listening, they .scarcely knew for what. Again it sounded faint and distant, but undoubtedly a gun, and from end to end of our prison -1800 Britishers sent up a British cheer that filled the valley with its clamour, and startled the weary sentries and the sleeping Boers in the adjacent laager as they had never been startled before. In another . quarter of an hour the big'gun'a mufHed roar was heard again, and again the hillside rang with a deafening cheer. It sounded like a large naval gun about 30 miles away, .and although the sentries assured us it was a Boer gun, it made no odds to us. If it is a Boer gun, we said, you had better go and help them to get it away, or the khakis will certainly have

‘‘A kind of change caipe in our fate, Our keepers grew compassionate.” The reason was not far to seek. Johnny, .Boer knew right well that the davs of our captivity were numbered, and that the day was not . far distant when he would have to bid us good-bye. ■f' ol ' three days from sunrise to sunset ,®, earth shook and the air vibrated with the roar of artillery; naval guns, cow guns, field guns, and. the pom-poing kept up a mighty chorus, and the only sign of the dreadful effect of this bombardment, which filled us with a secret eatisfaction and a wild hope of liberty, was the long train loads of dead and wounded Boers that went past our prison twice a day. For three days they stood obstinately in the face of 50 pieces of artillery and 30,000 men, and it was only when they had lost 1200 dead and wounded that they broke and fled. During the last t' vo of our captivity it was evident that the wnole population was clearing out in front of our forces. A perfect Barnpnds show was passing our prison, waggons with women and children, furniture • and bedding, pigs and poultry, some drawn by oxen, some by mules, some by two or three of both, passed down the valley in a continual stream. A small boy riding a donkey was quite pleased with his mount, and shouted as he trotted past: “Khaki no catch me,” to the great amusement of the Tommies. Amongst the first of the fighting Boers to pass down were- the Irish Brigade, and when the Irish Fusiliers and Irish Yeomanry saw them, and noted the green ribbons round their hats, through the prison wires howls of execration were hurled at them. THE BOER ARMY r IJNf RETREAT.

Soon the whole of Botha's proud army was flying helter-skelter, and when it became known that Buller’s big guns were on a hill a few miles away commanding our priste-n, tents, waggons, everything in the Boer laager, was set on fire. The valley was filled with smoke, the gates were thrown open, the weary, hungry prisoners swarmed out and listened to the words of the Commandant, Viljoen, who stood on a Cape cart to address the prisoners. He implored us to make our way back to our own lines peaceably, and said that, though we parted as men seeking to take each other's lives, he hoped that the day was not far distant when we would be extending the right hand of fellowship to each other. With wild cheers at the regaining of our liberty, we started off in column of lumps to reach General French's camp, which we were told was about ten miles away. Many of us got there on foot, but a hill climb of 4000 feet proved too much for some of the prisoners who had been nine or ten months in durance vile, and next day ambulances were busy picking them up along the line of our march. VVe were inspected by Lord -Roberts, who was accompanied, by Lord Kitchener, Generals Btillor, French, -lan Hamilton, and Pole Carew, and when they had all ridden along a road on both sides of which we were drawn up in, single rank, wo were entrained for Pretoria, where good food .and a complete new outfit of clothing and blankets soon made us forget the dirt and misery and hunger of the most miserable time that any of us had spent in the course of our lives. We could not help contrasting our prison with the beautiful refugee camps for Boer women which we afterwards saw in different parts of the country, with th'eir rows of big Indian marquees beautifully furnished and spot lessly clean.