Charge! A Story of Briton and BoerFenn, George Manville
General
Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer
Fenn, George Manville
South African War, 1899-1902 -- Fiction
We had reached, as I said, a big and prosperous-looking farm on the open
veldt, hot, fagged, hungry, and thirsty; and the first thing we saw was
the disorder left after the encamping of a large body of men. There
were the traces of the fire they had made, the trampling and litter left
by horses, and the marks where wagon after wagon had been placed to form
a laager; while in front of the long, low house a big, old, grey-bearded
Boer stood smoking, with his hands in his pockets.
One of the officers rode forward to tell him that we were going to camp
there for the night, and that he must supply sheep, poultry, grain for
the horses, and fuel for the corps, at the regular market-prices, for
which an order for payment would be given to him.
The officer was received with a furious burst of abuse in Dutch. There
was nothing left on the farm. The Boers had been there and cleared the
place; and if we wanted provisions of any kind we must ride on, for we
should get nothing there.
The officer was getting used to this kind of reception, and he rode back
at once to the Colonel, who nodded and gave an order, riding forward
with the other officers to take possession of one of the rooms. In an
instant the men began to spread about and search, and the farmer dashed
down his pipe in a fury, to come running towards the officers, raging
and swearing in Dutch as to what he would do; while, as soon as he saw
half-a-dozen men approach the corrugated-iron poultry-house and proceed
to wrench off the padlock, the old man rushed back into his house, and
returned followed by his fat wife and two daughters, all well armed in
some fashion or another, the farmer himself bearing a long rifle and
thrusting his head and arm through a cartridge-belt. There seemed no
doubt about his meaning mischief, but before he could thrust a cartridge
into his piece it was wrested from his hands by one of the troopers; and
others coming to the trooper's aid, the fierce old fellow was bundled
back into his house, his people following, and a sentry placed at the
door.
Rude and cruel? Well, perhaps so; but we were in an enemy's country--
the country of a people who had forced a war upon us--and the Colonel
had a couple of hundred people waiting to be fed. So we were fed amply,
for the farm was amply stocked; and the order the officer left in the
old Boer's hands in return for his curses was ample to recompense him
for what had been forcibly taken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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