De Wet, Christiaan Rudolf, 1854-1922; South African War, 1899-1902 -- Personal narratives
"Well, look here, we shall probably meet Henniker in the course of the
next few days. Come along with us till we strike your column. I am
Intelligence officer of this brigade, and I want to get together some
sort of an Intelligence gang to-night. We start at 4.30 to-morrow
morning."
"In what capacity do you want me?"
"As my chief guide. Do you know this country?"
"I have often been through it; but I'll soon find some one who does.
Have you got any boys?"[5]
"Not a soul. I've only just this moment arrived!"
"Well, we must have boys. Where are we to go?"
"To Britstown."
"Then we want a white guide and at least four boys. Yes, I'll come,
sir. What's the force?"
"It's an embryo brigade; but when we get it together it will be quite
a handsome force--three regiments and six guns!"
"Any Colonials?"
"Yes, the Mount Nelson Light Horse."
"Never heard of them, but you now want to raise these boys. What kind
of a man are you? Do you go straight in up to the elbows, or do you
play about in kid gloves?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, will you come down to a farm over there, and back me up in
everything that I do? We can get all we want there!"
"I'll back you up in everything that is in accordance with the
exigencies of the service."
"Which means----?"
"That I don't wear kid gloves----?"
"Come along, then; we'll soon round up a gang!"
* * * * *
A quarter of a mile brought the two men to the enclosure of a little
Karoo homestead, nestling in a hollow in the veldt. The Tiger was
leading his pony, and after he had tied it to the rail outside, they
walked boldly up to the verandah. They were greeted by an excited dog,
and a minute later the door was opened by a tall cadaverous-looking
youth.
"What do you want?"
The Tiger answered in Dutch. The farmer had evidently seen him before,
as he bridled angrily.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" came the answer. "You have come back again.
Well, I am sorry we have no forage for you!"
"It is not forage I want. Where is your father? Here is an officer who
must see the 'boss.'"
"I tell you the 'boss' is not here. But will not the officer come in.
Good evening, mister, come in here. I will bring a light!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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