With Steyn and De WetPienaar, F. F. (Filippus Fourie)
History
With Steyn and De Wet
Pienaar, F. F. (Filippus Fourie)
Pienaar, F. F. (Filippus Fourie), 1877-1948; South African War, 1899-1902 -- Personal narratives, Afrikaner
Our communication with the starting-point continued fairly good until we
came within six miles of Heilbron, when it suddenly failed. I went back
along the line, and eventually found the fault. After having repaired it
and given my pony an hour's rest, I took a short cut for Heilbron, and
arrived there at ten that night, only to find that during the time
occupied by my return ride the wire had again stopped working. Having
been in the saddle since six in the morning, I could do no more that
night, although the Government, now installed here, was anxiously
awaiting the resumption of communication. Early the next morning I
started back. I considered it best to start testing from the middle of
the line, and therefore went by road instead of following the fence. A
few miles out of town I met De Wet's force, which was just retreating
from Ventersburg. The men and animals were weary and dusty, but there
was no depression noticeable; hope seemed to spring up afresh after
every defeat, and those who thought of the result at all were confident
that, as the song of the camp had it, "No Englishman shall ever cross
the Vaal."
And now I shall try and draw you a picture of what I saw next. It was a
scene painfully humiliating for a Boer; what it was for an Englishman I
leave you to judge.
Coming along in the dusty road was a little drove of cattle and horses,
about twenty in all, shaggy animals, and of all sizes, evidently the
entire stock of some small farmer. Mounted astride on ponies, driving
the sorry herd, their faces sunburnt, their hair all in a tangle, and
their air the most dejected possible, were two young girls of about
fifteen and seventeen years. Following them was a rickety old waggon.
Under the hood sat an aged man and his wife, the parents of the two
girls. Not a soul to help these poor creatures in their wild flight.
They did not even know whither they were fleeing--anywhere to keep out
of the hands of the enemy. Slowly the little caravan passed out of
sight. Who can tell what regrets for the past were felt by the aged
couple?--what hopes for the future by the helpless lasses?
When I reached the intermediate station I found that the fault lay on
the Lindley side. Towards Lindley I rode, testing the line frequently,
but the sun went down and I was still testing. It grew too dark to see
the wire distinctly, so I made for a farmhouse near by to seek shelter
for the night. I knocked at the door, whereupon the light within was
immediately extinguished. A minute or so after a native servant came
round from the back. I gave him my horse to take to the stable, and
waited for the door to be opened. Presently the Kafir returned and asked
me to follow him to a side door, which he opened for me. I stepped
inside, and found myself in the presence of about a dozen Boers, all
armed, and all gazing at me as if they had paid for the privilege.
There was something tense in the situation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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