The Relief of Mafeking: How it Was Accomplished by Mahon's Flying Column; with an Account of Some Earlier Episodes in the Boer War of 1899-1900Young, Filson
History
The Relief of Mafeking: How it Was Accomplished by Mahon's Flying Column; with an Account of Some Earlier Episodes in the Boer War of 1899-1900
Young, Filson
Mafikeng (South Africa) -- History -- Siege, 1899-1900
Although we talked for a long time I did not really learn much from
these Boers, who represented the most unthinking class. Just as I had
found the English colonists to conduct their arguments in a circle and
constantly to bring forward the same old statements, so I found these
Boers repeating the same assertions over and over again: that the Lord
was on their side; that they must prevail in the end; that they could
not trust us; that we had played them false; that we were really after
their gold-fields; "if there had been no gold in South Africa there
would have been no war." They spoke as men who repeated a lesson; yet I
am bound to say that they spoke with sincerity, and although they seemed
to speak parrot-wise, they probably accepted current forms of speech as
giving the best expression to a deep and universal conviction.
We had been riding for nearly two hours, when one of my companions
noticed marks on the ground evidently made by a man dragging himself
along. We followed this spoor down the rocky slope where ferns and
little shrubs divided the stones. It wound about, choosing the
smoothest places, covering altogether a distance of about a mile; it
led us at last to the shade of a mimosa bush, where the poor soldier had
ended his duty and journey together.
There was nothing to be done now but to rejoin my party, and when I
expressed a wish to do so the doctor said, "This will be your nearest
way," pointing to a barrier range of low hills. They lay in the right
direction, so I rode on for about a mile and a half, the two Boers still
accompanying me, until we reached the top of the nearest hill. What was
my surprise to see lying below me the smoke and waggons and picketed
horses of the enemy's laager! The Boers, to the number of perhaps seven
or eight hundred, were sitting or lying beneath trees that made a circle
round the mile-wide basin. I glanced at the faces of my companions with
some misgiving, but honesty was written there.
"I have no business to be here, you know," said I. "We shall all get
into a row." They preceded me down the slope, and, with a presentiment
that I should get out again, I slipped out my pocket compass and made a
mental note of the bearings of the laager from Spitz Kop, the head of
which was visible about six miles away. There was a small farmhouse
which appeared to be used as headquarters; round this were twenty or
thirty waggons piled with cases, but, so far as I could see, no forage
or oats. There were either three or four guns; there were certainly four
gun-carriages, but one of them may have been a limber. As we came into
the basin a small, young-looking man, to whom I was introduced as the
Commandant, met us.
"Please remain here," he said to me sharply; and as he led the doctor
away, pouring forth a stream of Dutch, I gathered that my poor friend
was getting into trouble. At last Cronje came back and addressed me,
speaking English very imperfectly. This is the substance of what he
said--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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