It was spring in the Transvaal. Already the wattle-trees beside the farm-schoolhouse door were thickly covered with a mass of golden bloom, and the little blue pan--or lake--down among the willows, again reflected the sky and clouds as the Boer children trooped past it. Many a chilly morning had they trudged on their way to that same little room of corrugated iron and wood, just beyond the farthest kopje[1]--often so early that the grass was still sparkling with the sunlit hoar-frost. The sun shone warm now, and groups of laughing little Boer girls, in large pinafores and kappies, hurried across the trackless grassy veldt[2] from every direction. Some of them, like Christina Allida, Adriana, Franzina, and black-eyed, laughing little Yettie, whose farms were a long way off, drove over in their crowded Cape cart spiders and ramshackle conveyances of every description. Soon Franzina's cart, with Yettie, came rumbling up to the door, where all the older boys--like their big cousin, Petrus Joubert--who had galloped over on their shaggy little Cape ponies, were off-saddling and knee-haltering them under the wattle-trees. To remove the saddle, and then, with the head-stall, to fasten the pony's head to his leg just above his knee, so that he might graze freely about, yet be caught again when wanted after school was out, took but a moment. Then the saddles were hung on the schoolhouse wall in a lengthening row, and lessons begun. All Boer boys are trained to ride from the time they can walk. Petrus could even "out-spann"[3] a team of his uncle's oxen. He was fond of all animals--especially of his sturdy little Basuto pony, which he had christened "Ferus." Ferus meant "fearless." He prized him above everything he possessed. He was trained to obey the slightest turn of the reins, or to come to a full stop at the sound of one low whistle from his master. Through storm or sunshine he carried his young rider swiftly to school and home again--always with little five-year-old brother Theunis holding tightly on behind. "Jump, Theunis!" affectionately called Petrus to the child. Theunis, his only brother, was very dear to him. Still clutching a dog-eared copy of "Steb-by-Steb"[4] in one small hand, Theunis slid off and hurried after his big brother into the little room. Soon it was crowded with noisy children, all busily buzzing over their English lessons, and answering "Ek-weit-nie"[5] to the teacher's questions. It was a government farm-school. Only one hour a day was allowed for Dutch.