London to Ladysmith via PretoriaChurchill, Winston
History
London to Ladysmith via Pretoria
Churchill, Winston
South African War, 1899-1902; Transvaal (South Africa) -- History
The elation and the excitement of the previous night had burnt away, and
a chilling reaction followed. I was very hungry, for I had had no dinner
before starting, and chocolate, though it sustains, does not satisfy. I
had scarcely slept, but yet my heart beat so fiercely and I was so
nervous and perplexed about the future that I could not rest. I thought
of all the chances that lay against me; I dreaded and detested more than
words can express the prospect of being caught and dragged back to
Pretoria. I do not mean that I would rather have died than have been
retaken, but I have often feared death for much less. I found no comfort
in any of the philosophical ideas which some men parade in their hours
of ease and strength and safety. They seemed only fair-weather friends.
I realised with awful force that no exercise of my own feeble wit and
strength could save me from my enemies, and that without the assistance
of that High Power which interferes in the eternal sequence of causes
and effects more often than we are always prone to admit, I could never
succeed. I prayed long and earnestly for help and guidance. My prayer,
as it seems to me, was swiftly and wonderfully answered, I cannot now
relate the strange circumstances which followed, and which changed my
nearly hopeless position into one of superior advantage. But after the
war is over I shall hope to lengthen this account, and so remarkable
will the addition be that I cannot believe the reader will complain.
The long day reached its close at last. The western clouds flushed into
fire; the shadows of the hills stretched out across the valley. A
ponderous Boer waggon, with its long team, crawled slowly along the
track towards the town. The Kaffirs collected their herds and drew
around their kraal. The daylight died, and soon it was quite dark.
Then, and not till then, I set forth, I hurried to the railway line,
pausing on my way to drink at a stream of sweet, cold water. I waited
for some time at the top of the steep gradient in the hope of catching a
train. But none came, and I gradually guessed, and I have since found
that I guessed right, that the train I had already travelled in was the
only one that ran at night. At last I resolved to walk on, and make, at
any rate, twenty miles of my journey. I walked for about six hours. How
far I travelled I do not know, but I do not think that it was very many
miles in the direct line. Every bridge was guarded by armed men; every
few miles were gangers' huts; at intervals there were stations with
villages clustering round them. All the veldt was bathed in the bright
rays of the full moon, and to avoid these dangerous places I had to make
wide circuits and often to creep along the ground. Leaving the railroad
I fell into bogs and swamps, and brushed through high grass dripping
with dew, so that I was drenched to the waist. I had been able to take
little exercise during my month's imprisonment, and I was soon tired out
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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