De Wet, Christiaan Rudolf, 1854-1922; South African War, 1899-1902 -- Personal narratives
The map was duly spread upon the Reverend Predikant's mahogany board,
and with the aid of a slip of paper the distances measured off. The
brigadier sat back in his chair, drawing meditatively at the bent
stem of his Boer pipe. When the measuring was over he remained silent
a moment and then gave his opinion of the situation.
_Brigadier._ "They evidently have no one operating down from
Bloemfontein, otherwise they would not quote Plumer. It is just as
evident that De Wet slipped across the river at some spot where it is
not precisely convenient for any of our Colony brigands to pursue him.
That is, we are their only hope and the only mobile people within
reach. De Wet crossed the Orange River yesterday afternoon, therefore,
according to our information, he should have slept at Philippolis last
night. As a rule De Wet never sleeps in the same place on two
consecutive nights. But his arrival at Philippolis was in rather
peculiar circumstances. He didn't arrive a successful swashbuckler
cocking his hat with all his plans made, but a washed-out fugitive
with all his plans to make. Therefore the chances are that he won't
have got very far on his way from Philippolis to-night. Probably he
won't make a start until to-morrow morning. He knows that his right
is clear. He knew last night or early this morning that we had arrived
at Luckhoff. He will have information by this that we have halted this
morning, and that the Riet River is in flood. Therefore it is plain
that he, taking us as an average British commando, can leave
Philippolis at daybreak to-morrow, cross the Riet, and destroy the
Kalabas bridge behind him without inconvenience from us. At least that
is the map reading of this picnic. It is a short fifty miles from
Philippolis to Fauresmith; we are thirty miles from Fauresmith. A
British commando halted to-day would not reach Fauresmith until
evening to-morrow; a Boer _paarde kommando_ will have done its fifty
miles by the time one of our 'crawlers' outspans for breakfast. Now,
old man Baker, get out orders. For public guidance, we march at four
o'clock for Koffyfontein and Kimberley, going d----d slow; for private
information, as soon as it is dark we will change direction and be in
possession of Fauresmith as soon after daybreak as possible. Whoever
is in possession of Fauresmith will be in possession of the bridge
over Riet River. Mr Intelligence, it will be your business to make it
sufficiently well known in this metropolis that our destination is
Koffyfontein for Kimberley. Don't make them suspicious by being too
emphatic about it."
_Brigade-Major._ "Very good, sir; but we shall have to cover at least
forty miles!"
_B._ "True for you; what's the odds?"
_B.-M._ "Only the ox-transport. It can't reach Fauresmith by daybreak,
night-marching. There ain't anything of a moon--in fact it's going to
be devilish dark with all these clouds about."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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