A TRANSVAAL CINDERELLA.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVIII, Issue 37, 13 September 1900, Page 23

A TRANSVAAL CINDERELLA.

Boer women have very often fought alongside of their hnsbandn and fathers and brothers in the wars of the republics of South Africa. Somf of them arc capital markswomen. and nearly all have the fanatical courage which is noticeable in religious enthusiasts ot all climes. Liu' wuiutu w'uu to-Jay ait fighting in the trencher against the British are doing no new thing. Their mothers and grandmothers assisted in the defence of many a laager against the rush of Zulu impis. Far from detracting from their womanly fascinations, the young men of the Transvaal look upon such masculine prowess as greatly enhancing them. Rifle skill and amazonian dash in time of war on the part of the maids compel the admiration of the young men, as witness the recent case of Marie Dutoit. Marie was a little Cinderella of the veldt. Not all the glamor of fairydom could, however, have persuaded a prince that little Marie was pretty. She was, indeed, quite homely. The child was an orphan and lived with the Van Pelts, her uncle and aunt, and her elder cousins, Hendrick, a young man, and Greta and Anna, who may be said to have taken the place of Cinderella's ill-conditioned Bisters. These latter were belles of Boerland and well portioned, but Marie had been left, a skinny babe, without a penny. This, with her homeliness, lessened her chance of ever being nicely married, for the shrewd Boer has a careful eye on a girl's dowry. An old maid or a bachelor is a byword and a thing of abhorrence in the Transvaal. So Marie's lot was sad. Oom Kris Van Pelt was not a bad man by any means. He was a typical farmer and hunter of the Transvaal, a tall, broad, bearded, grave, religious patriot. When Marie's parents died he gave the child a home more from duty than affection or pity, and after that paid little heed to her. Tante Anne, his wife, was another matter. She would never have turned away the little Marie, partly from a sense that such conduct would scarcely have been Scriptural, but chiefly from a fear of what her neighbors would say. But she did not conceal her opinion that the Dutoits had sinned greatly in dying without leaving a provision for their child. In the hard years when the mealie crop was burned by the sun and the oxen perished from lack of water, Tante Anne made things unpleasant for little Marie, for she was a feverish, complaining woman. ' Another such year,' she would cry, ' and we will be ruined. The good Lord knows best, but there are so many mouths to feed, so many mouths.' Such outcries were absurd, for tho Van Pelts were better off than many burghers. Her neighbors knew this and Emiled at the worrying old woman, but Marie took it very seriously and redoubled her laborß. From babyhood she worked until her hands were hard as a boy's and her face was darkly tanned. A hard childhood was that of Marie Dutoit, whose older cousins were in nowise distressed to see how she slaved. There is only one career open to the average Boer girl, and that is marriage. Marie was plain. Marie was poor. Greta and Anna complacently and leisurely looked forward to taking their choice of .suitors, but Marie could only sigh and be resigned and secretly dream of some impossible day when the prince would ride over the veldt and sound his bugle horn. She always roused herself sharply from such extremely foolish dreama and dashed more reluctantly than ever at the drudgery of the farm. Yet one great delight was hers, and that was when Hendricki her big, silent cousin, took her out on the broad plain when he was shooting at the targets and taught her to handle a rifle. Sometimes he even took her on a hunt, and so keen were her eyes and so firm her grip and so steady her open air trained nerves that Marie Dutoit when 16 years old was nigh as good a shot as Hendrick himself. When she was 18 the troubled days began and the Transvaal declared war against Great Britain. Veldt Cornet Hausmann brought the news, but it was not altogether news. All night the beacon fires had been burning on the higher kops. All night Kaffir runners had been scouring the country with messages from the commandants to the burghers. All night in many farmhouses the women had been at work preparing the rations of biltong and cleaning the arms of the patriots. All night throughout the length and breadth of the land prayers had gone up and the veldt had echoed the deep-voiced songs of David. The cornet was a close friend of Hendrick Van Pelt. A rich man was he and influential insomuch that he was even in the councils of Paul Kruger himself. Very popular also was Rick Ilausmann, and so well looking that even without his wealth the maidens would have been gracious to him. It may be imagined that in the course of tbe little Marie's day dreams the prince who galloped so cavalierly over the veldt was not altogether unlike the young cornet. ' It's war,' he said gravely, as he eat down in the farmhouse. 1 I have come for Oom Kris and Hendrick. If they are ready we will join the commando together. Yes, thank you, Greta ; thank you. Anna, I will take coffee.' Marie had made the coffee, but her cousins served the cornet. Tante Anne and they hovered about him and chorused denunciations of the rooineks and eulogies of the Boer patriots. Then first Rick Hausmann smiled on Greta, and again he was cordial to Anna. When Greta smiled, Anna frowned, and when Anna beamed Greta tossed her handsome head and sniffed. But Marie made coffee, and hid her homely face and looked not at all at the prince of the veldt. Wheu the Van Pelts were ready, the women hung about their horses, delaying them to make sure that nothing was forgotten — the biltong, the coffee, the sugar, the home-grown tobacco. Tante Anne, in tears, caressed her spouse and son, but the daughters were

more solicitous about the rich and handsome veldt cornet. They were quiet cheery. They had no doubts of the outcome of the war. 1 Slay them as the Philistines were slain,' they oried to Rick. ' Drive the Uitlanders into the sea. Oh, how I wish I was a man to go and fight them I' ' Oh, yes, to be a man !' cried Greta ; ' to be brave and strong '— • To be such a horseman !' cried Anna, cutting out Greta. ' We will make much of you when you oome back victorious ! ' they cried together. ' And reward me, I hope,' said the handsome cornet, but he looked at both and smiled at both, so that the girla when they had smiled back at him irowned on each other. ' Goodbye, Marie,' said Hendrick. 1 Goodbye, cousin," said Marie. ' I wish I was going with you. 1 Then they rode off to join the commando, and Rick only waved his hand to Marie, and all the veldt for her grew chill and grey. The prince was galloping over the veldt, but no glad bogle horn had Bounded its call for ;her. Tante was more peevish than ever. The girls were sulky. • Marie, you've let the coffee get cold !' Tante Anne screeched. Marie was at the open door staring after the horsemen and did not hear nor answer. ' Come in and attend to your work 1' her aunt cried. ' What are you about 1 Do you think the cornet will kiss his hand to you V The sisters laughed shrilly, but Marie hung her head. ' No,' she thought ; 'he will never wave his hand to me. lam too ugly and too poor but — I should like to take a rifle and be beside him and fight the Englishmen, and — and watoh over him.' The fight had begun in a series of skirmishes, but when morning came the Boers and British were in pitched battle. The speaking of the great guns could be heard at the farm. Sometimes even the rattle of the rifle fire reached across the plain. The women folk were terribly excited. War was now very close to their doors, and it was not so easy a thing to sneer at the courage of the rooineka. Aunt Anne rocked in her great chair ; the girls were white and unnerved : Marie was restless, with great bright eyes. All night long spider carts and waggons and litters had been jolting across the veldt with burdens of dead and crippled men who were being carried by native servants and friends to nearby homes for burial or for nursing. Suddenly, before the glaring sun had yet reached its noontide height, a ragged Kaffir came running and leaping from the distant kopjes, where the battle raged and roared. His eyes were protruding with fright, and his dark face was now grey. ' It ia M 'Pang we !' Marie cried as he came, and they all went out to meet Oom Kris's servant, who had followed his master to the war as in olden times the henchmen followed their knights and equires. The Kaffir ran up weary and exhausted. A dirty rag bound his arm where a bullet had pierced the flesh. ' Why have you left your bass /' the women cried, and Tante Anne shook her fist at the trembling boy. ' You coward dog, if you have run away I will use the sjambok on you myself I' •Nil' cried the servant. 'No run. Bass Hendrick, him dead in trench. Big bass him fight and shoot, shoot, shoot. Big bass him say to MPangwe, " Get cart ; take Bass Hendrick to Tante Anne.' Me come, run all way.' There was a wailing then in the farmhouse and terrible cries for vengeance, but the Van Pelts were too sorrow stricken to obey the poor stern father's will. On Marie fell the task, as on Marie usually fell the harder tasks. She had loved Hendrick, but she was dry eyed. Her lace was still and stern. 'Is Ooin Kris hurt ." she asked the boy, and he told her the old man was safe as yet as they harnessed the horse. Her back was turned to him. 1 Did you see the Veldt Cornet Hausmann /' she asked. • He shoot, shoot, shoot, with big bass,' said the boy. When the cart was ready Marie went inside and filled a great canteen with coffee. She took some biltong and bread also. Then she got HendrickV old rifle, which she had often used, and went into the house for a belt of ammunition. ' Tante Anne,' she said, ' I am going to the trenches with M'Pangwe. He says the battle is hard. The commandant must need ev^ry good shot he can find, and lam a good shot. Besides, they have killed Hendrick, and I loved him.' Tante Anne screeched again. ' I need you here !' she screamed. ' What can my girls and I do. broken down as we are ? Who will help in the house V ' Greta and Anna must do that unless they will come with me.' At that the girls cried out. ' The trenches are no place for girls,' they said. ' Oh,' said Marie Dutoit hotly, • there are women there already helping the men. A woman also has a right to defend the fatherland. My mother fought the Zulus with my father in laager, and Tante Anne herself when she was younger could hit a deer.' She drove off with the Kaffir, sorrowing much for Hendrick, her childhood's friend, but hot with bitter anger and vengeful wrath against the English. Also there was a dread in her heart that arriving she should find yet another lying dead in the trenches on the hillsides. No doubt this would seem unmaidenly conduct in the eyes of seminary girls, but, you see, Marie had never been to school. She could only with difficulty spell out her Bible, was quite uncultured and a very simple and natural product of the veldt, possessed with all the primitive passions of love and hate and jealousy and revenge. The trenches were reached from the rear of the army, with only the rocky difficulties of the kopje to overcome. When, however, they came near to them, the Kaffir shook with fear as the great shells came Bhrieking from the British guns to plunge into the earthen breastwork or burst near by, scattering horror. H« cowered in the cart, but 'Marie sat ereot, although her face was

white and her lips indrawn. They halted some distance away in the shelter of a great rock, and Oom Kris himself carried Mb dead boy to the cart. Poor old patriot, he was weeping, but he could not leave his place to accompany Hendrick's remains, anxious though he was that they should be buried at home near the old farm and not in the dreadful trenches, perhaps by British hande. He despatched the Kaffir's cart and expressed no surprise when Marie followed him on hands and knees, creeping to Hendrick's place. The old man, like every old Boer, had been used in other days to see women folk by his side defending the waggons of the trek against savage foes. 'Tt is right, little Marie,' he said simply. 'lie loved you my Hendrick. Say a prayer and aim carefully.'

On the Boer girl'a other side lay the field cornet. He nodded to Marie and smiled approval.

' Who shall conquer us, 1 he said, ' when our girls are ready to die to defend the land ? Why did not Greta and Anna come 1 They are fair shots, and Hendrick was their brother.'

Marie said nothing but color oame back to her cheeks, for it was the first time the prince of the veldt had spoken to her so cordially. Then she listened to him as he pointed to her, peeping over the breastworks, the position of the English and directed her fire. She grew warm with the fierce excitement of the thing, but her aim was steady, and her bullets sped truly. Rick was earnest in his encouragement.

' I did not know,' he said enthusiastically, ' that you were such a brave girl and capital shot. You were always so quiet.' Then Maria, even in the middle of horrors, was almost happy.

All the afternoon the shells oame shrieking. All the afternoon cries and groans and hoarse commands filled her ears, with the ceaseless crash of rifles and the thunder of the big guns. Other sounds there were also, when now from the right and again from the left some God fearing patriot would begin to sing. Then along the line of the trench the deep voices would rise to heaven, now in the heart stirring melody of a volkslied, now chauting the solemn measures of the psalm. Marie sang too. Her voice and those of a few other women and boys with the commando rose high above the mend. Never before was seen so strange a congregation praising the Lord.

At last, when the day was far spent, the enemy tried new tactics, since their artillery oould not disperse the Boers in the trenches. From far in front a body of kilted Highlanders moved forward with a great cheer, and the shells came plunging down in a more furious storm than ever. One of these burst near Marie. A piece tore past her face and hit old Oom Kris. The fine old man's rifle fell from his hands. He gave one short, sharp cry and fell back. He had followed his dear son. So hot was the fight, so urgent it was, that now if ever the Boers should not slacken their fire, that little Marie could only murmur a prayer, but dared not cease firing. Rick Hausmann found time to touch her hand and whisper in sympathy. llt was for God and country,' said he. 'It is well with him.'

Tears were in Marie's eyes as Bhe looked at him gratefully

1 For God and country,' she repeated, and turned steadily to the approaching rush of Highlanders. They were coming on with tremendous dash, not cheering now, for every breath was needed aa they faced the steep hill. With fixed bayonets they came on and on and on. The fire of the Boers was furious, a continual roar of volleying rifles. The Scotchmen suffered cruelly. Here, there, like wands in wind, men wavered and dropped, but the rest came on and on and on, and the ghastly-looking bayonets were thrusting forward, nearer and nearer. At sight of the cold steel, glancing in the sun, Marie began to quake. Not she alone ; the Boers all round were paling. Dropping still from the line of kilted warriors before the tempest of bullets, men lay scattered on the hillside, some writhing, some very still. The Highlanders came closer and oloser. ' Cornet Hausmann,' Marie oried, quivering. ' I must go, I must fly. I cannot stand and face those things.' Hausmann looked up to speak and then another shell burst, and he fell with a broken leg. At the same instant many Boers, unaccustomed to face such a weapon, began to fall back, leave the trenob, and retreat. Hausmann saw them and, in spite of his agony, ordered and implored them to stay. ' Stand firm,' he cried. ' They are exhausted. Stand firm — continue firing and we'll drive them back yet. Ob, cowards, will you fly ? Marie, show them an example. You are no coward. Steady, Marie. Keep on firing. You won't desert me, will you ? ' Marie's strength was renewed. Even her awful dread vanished at the prince's entreaty. She Btood beside him as he reached up to her hand. ' No,' she said, ' I forgot for one moment. No, I will not desert you.' Now the Scots were within 100 yards. They came on, but they were staggering and gasping. 'Firm : Stand firm,' cried the wounded Boer chief to the Boers who had not fled. ' Rush them, lads,' roared the tall British officer. They came. Marie covered that officer steadily. He fell as Bhe fired, but his men oame on and on. There bayonets were within 50 yards, and the Boers, without any such weapon to meet them, broke at last and scattered. Marie looked down at the cornet. He had fainted from pain. With a great effort she lifted him up, for she was strong from much outdoor work, and staggered with him from the lost trenches to the shelter of the great rock which had previously hid the cart. Her soul was full of bitterness because the trench was taken, but yet her heart was glad when the prince opened his eyes and smiled on her. At leaat she had saved him from the frenzied demons with the bayonet*.

The Scots, however, could not hold the position for long. Boer artillery from other kopjes was trained on them. They in turn retreated, and night fell upon the battle.

Behind the rock Marie gave the cornet water and eaaed his agony as best she could while waiting for the surgeon and ambulance Hausmann'a eyes were always on her face.

1 Marie,' he said at last, ' these fellows would have killed me if you had not stood by me. You saved my life when you did not desert me like the others. Marie, little Marie, Oom Kris has gone and Hendrick has gone, and you are alone. I, too, am alone. Stay with me, then — never desert me.'

The priace of the veldt had called on his bugle horn.— Exchange.