STORY OF PAUL KRUGER

Waikato Times, Volume 96, Issue 15853, 26 November 1923, Page 8

STORY OF PAUL KRUGER

STATE SECRRETS*

A South Africa exchange prints' the following story of Pnul Kruger, a sketch that will he read with interest by lovers of (he veldt.

A dispute arose about the right of the British Government to appoint Monkoranc as Paramount Chief of the Butlapin. A natirc chief named Gasitoni claimed to be the rightful head of the tribe and rebelled against the British authority. Gasitoni’s father in earlier days had given (he Boers trouble, and they beheaded him.

Colonel Owen Lanvon. in command of an expeditionary force from the Diamond Fields, quelled the Gasitoni rebellion by invading Pokwani. It was a bloodless affair. Gasitoni fled without putting up a fight.

Some time after this event Advocate Piet Buskes, of the New Rush, received a message from Gasitoni asking him to go to the Chief, who was in hiding in Butlapin territory, in order that Gasitoni might state his case to Buskes. with a view to laying Gasitoni’s claims' before the Imperial Government. Buskes decided to go. and was looking for someone who knew the country' to guide him to the rebel’s hiding-pla-ce. I happened to be a needy diamond broker at the time, so I volunteered to go with Buskes. In due course we started off with a Cape cart and four mules. Game was very plentiful, so I had no difficulty in keeping the pot well supplied with food. Our party consisted of a Cape coloured driver, Buskes, and myself. We found Gasitoni’s hiding-place in the hilly country beyond Pokwani: he had about 200 of his followers with j him. I

A “pitsu” was held, and after a few days’ palaver Buskes was fully posled with his instructions for his mission. We were preparing to return to the Diamond Fields', when a messenger arrived from the Transvaal with a note from Paul Kruger to Buskes, saying that Kruger had heard of the proposed mission to England, and would like Buskes to meet him in the Transvaal, with a view to laying the case of the Boers before the British Government. The letter informed Buskes that the Boers were dissatisfied with the way the British Government had robbed them of their country, and unless it was returned to them the Boers were going to rebel. Would Buskes come on lo Rustenherg and meet Kruger at Olifants Nek?

A Hunter’s Paradise. Buskes asked me if I would accompany him. I consented cheerfully; it meant crossing the best game country in the Transvaal. It is impossible to convey any pen-picture of the sights iwe «nw traversing the country from the Harts River to Rustenherg. The veldt was fairly alive with game. As far as the eye could see there were blesbok, springbok, wildebeeste, and bartebeeste. The big pans were alive with wildfowl of every description—flamingo, spoonbill, Muscovy geese, Egyptian geese, ducks, teal, snipe, wading birds, locusts birds—all in countless numbers. The veldt teemed with Koran partridges, pauw, and small game. One afternoon, I well remember, we camped on the crest of a hill overlooking a vlci about three or four miles in circumference. Whilst the boy was collecting fuel and starting a fire, I went off in search of game, r saw a couple of Egyptian geese on the shore of the vlei and stalked them, killing one and winging the other. The wounded bird swam out into the vlei, and I started after him. The water was knee-deep, and I had a wild chase, ending in my killing the goose. By the time I had got it the sun had set. A mile away I could see the camp with a thread of blue smoke curling up into a blood-red sky. The Western heavens' looked as if they were on fire—a wonderful mass of molten red. reflected on the water. Overhead, at an immense altitude, hung enormous thunderclouds, also mirrored on the still waters of the lake, with incessant lightning playing in their dark depths. On the shore of the vlei in every direction there were countless antelopes of all .sorts', ! and the surface of the water and the ! air were full of bird life—wildfowl, ! crested cranes by the hundred, which j circled round, uttering their plaintive j cry, “Mooi hem,” “Mooi hem”; flam- j ingo, geese, ducks, teal. The weird j drumming of snipe and the noises made by birds and beasts seemed un- | canny to me, standing there in the I middle of the vlei in the very midst j of it all. ; Some idea of how tame the game were in those days may be gathered from the fact that I walked up to two Imperial-crested bustard (gompauw) to within 15 yards and shot them both. They weighed 901 b, and had a thick layer of fat like a Christmas turkey. In Secret Conclave. At Olifants Nek we met Kruger and his friends. The party consisted of Nicolas Emit. Dr. Jorrison. Piet .Touberf. Edward Bok and Paul Kruger. The discussions used to last until late at nierht, and I had to wait for the conference to break up before I could make up my bed. Buskes and I slept in the conference room. One evening Dr. Jorrison asked whether it was wise to discuss secret affairs of State in my presence. Paul Kruger turned to me and said: "Oh, he will not repeat, anything! He is a young fellow, and some day it will he interesting for him to say he was present on this occasion. Can we, trust you ?” I sleepily said I could he trusted nof to repeat, anything.

In reality I was bored with all the talk, and did not for a moment believe in all their heroics.

The sequel to my story happened 12 years afterwards, when I was 1 a partner of the firm nr 11. Eckstein in Johannesburg. Kruger wanted to buy up a number of Swazi concessions. Umbandini, the Swazi chief, had granted concessions for railways posts, banks, mines, etc. I believe a concession had even been given to “grant concessions.”

Kruger saw a possible chance of annexing Swaziland if he possessed himself of the concessions giving so much power over the internal affairs of Swaziland. His trouble was to find the money— £30,000. I agreed to lend the President the money secretly, and a confidential document was 1 drawn up dealing with the matter. When we met to sign the agreement Kruger turned to me and said: “This is a very secret affair. Can I trust you?”

I replied: “President, it comes ill from you to ask if you can trust me. Do you remember the boy that sat on the ‘kaatle’ in the conference room when you were planning to overthrow the English Government at Olifants Nek? I am that boy!”