Mafeking : $b a diary of the siegeBaillie, Frederick David
History
Mafeking : $b a diary of the siege
Baillie, Frederick David
Mafikeng (South Africa) -- History -- Siege, 1899-1900; South African War, 1899-1902
This afternoon I rode up to Cannon Kopje and arrived simultaneously with
a ninety-four pound shell from the contrary direction. We did not,
however, hurt each other, and I dismounted and tethered my horse under
the best cover available, and to ground with me like a rabbit. They
fired one or two more shells at the kopje, doing no harm, and we then
strolled up to the look-out post to have a look at our persecutor. It
was a lovely evening, and as she was then pointed on the town, one could
view her proceedings with the utmost equanimity, speculating mildly as
to whether she would pitch her shell on one’s own bomb proof or not.
The shell, however, burst prematurely, just clear of the muzzle of the
gun, and we continued watching the town and the rest of the defences,
all of which lie like a panorama from the Cannon Kopje look-out. Creaky
was then re-loaded, and with her nose cocked high in the air, was
apparently aimed in the direction of the planet Venus. As a matter of
fact, however, she was aimed at Fort Ayr, and after the discharge one
imagined one could trace the projectile in its flight by the hurtling
sound it made; but when by sound it seemed as far as Fort Miller, one
could see the strike close by Fort Ayr (which is about four miles from
the gun), and yet the noise of the projectile through the air continued
for some seconds longer, producing a very curious effect. She re-loaded
and was again pointed on the town when slowly she swung her nose round
and was pointed on us, a roar of look out from the man on duty, and the
crowd of languid spectators was transformed into a body of active men,
heading straight for their accustomed shelters, which having attained,
they peered carefully at the gun, waiting for the smoke from the muzzle,
which would be the signal for their final disappearance. We waited and
waited, but she came not, so, deciding that it was the good-night gun, I
walked back, accompanied by one of the garrison of the kopje, and ate my
dinner at the hotel with the comforting assurance that I had last seen
her directed a good mile from the dining-room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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