With Buller in Natal, Or, a Born LeaderHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
With Buller in Natal, Or, a Born Leader
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
South African War, 1899-1902 -- Fiction
The saddles were taken off and piled together. There was no chance of
rain, so they were left uncovered. The lads then walked back into the
town. There was, of course, a sad parting that evening between Chris
and his mother, but she bore up well. She knew that hundreds of other
women were parting with husbands or sons, and she felt that, as the
main cause of the war was to rescue the Uitlanders in the Transvaal
from the oppression of the Boers, it behooved all the fugitives from
that country to do their utmost.
In the morning the lads all arrived punctually at the rendezvous. The
horses were fed to the accompaniment, as usual, of pistol shots. Then
they were saddled up, the valises the lads had brought down with them
were strapped on, and with their rifles slung behind them they rode to
the station.
It was, as they had expected, a long and troublesome business to get
the horses into the trucks, but at last this was managed. Nose-bags
were put on, with a few double-handfuls of grain, then one trooper was
left to each two horses, while the rest saw to their bundles of
blankets, their stores of tea, sugar, and flour, preserved milk, cocoa,
bacon, and tinned food. A couple of frying-pans, and a canteen of tin
cups and plates, a knife, fork, and spoon each, and two kettles,
completed their outfit. They had put their soft felt hats in their
valises, and were all in their flat fatigue caps.
The train was a long one, but the carriages with it were empty, for
while the trains from the north were closely packed, there were few
persons indeed proceeding up country. The trucks, however, were well
filled, as great quantities of stores were being taken up, some to
Ladysmith, and others for the force at Dundee. The horses soon became
accustomed to the motion, and their masters took the opportunity of
familiarizing themselves with them, by talking to them, patting them,
and giving them pieces of bread and an occasional lump of sugar. The
two Kaffirs had brought on the pack-horses four water-skins and a
couple of buckets, and in the heat of the day the horses were allowed a
good drink, while their masters, whose haversacks had been filled by
their friends, enjoyed a hearty meal, washed down by tin mugs full of
champagne.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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