one to our left; the one at our back, however, commenced
to die out, and in any event was very far off. So we
returned to camp having nothing to- fear. These fires,
which are of frequent occurrence in the veldt, are only
dangerous when the grass is long. Mr. Colenbrander
once lost all his oxen in one of them, and his waggon
itself barely escaped destruction. - They are usually
lighted by natives in the hope of improving the grass
the following year. The evil of the practice is to be found
in the fact that tracts of land for miles are denuded of
herbage, leaving nothing to eat for the beasts of transport.
Natives caught firing grass are very severely dealt with.
On July 3rd I found my beasts somewhat knocked up
by the march of the day before, so I determined to give
them a few hours’ rest, and did not start till 4 o’clock in
the afternoon. Even then I did not get further than
about six miles, for seeing a transport of four waggons
sink into the mud about 400 yards ahead of me, I
determined to halt rather than spend another night in a
swamp. For two or three days I had had a little
rheumatic fever, and next morning I woke with every
joint in my body aching. Sooner or later we were all
attacked by the fever, more or less.
On Monday, the 6th July, at about half-past nine a.m.,
we arrived at a rather large farm, comprising one building
of real bricks. The owner was a most affable Englishman.
He gave me a large glass of milk, and pointed out a good
place where I could outspan and water the oxen. This
was a pleasing contrast to the Dutch farmer, who never
dreams of offering you anything, nor misses an opportunity
of trying to extort a few shillings from you for having
outspanned near his farm; and if he sells you a dozen
eggs, for which he charges two or three shillings, he won’t
let you carry them to your waggon, a distance of perhaps
only a hundred yards, without first having made you pay
for them ; and even then he won’t lend you a dish to carry
them in. Yet these people are British , subjects and
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electors, who send representatives to the Colonial Parliament,
though they have never learnt to speak English,
and won’t even allow their children to be taught English.'
They call themselves Dutchmen, but they hardly know
where Holland is; it is enough for them that their
great grandfathers were born out there : they are themselves
“ Afrikanders.” Their intelligence is dull and
dry, like the country of their birth. To squeeze their
neighbour is their sole aim in life, and whether such
neighbour be English, Dutch, or native, makes no
difference to them.
On Thursday, the 9th July, I inspanned at 6.30 a.m. and
trekked for three hours, believing, from the information
I had received, that we were ten or twelve miles from
Mafeking. At 11 o’clock I sent two men on horseback
to the town, while I determined to remain with the
waggons. About an hour later several waggons met us,
and the drivers told us that we were quite near Mafeking.
A few minutes later a native on horseback
informed me that it would take two hours and a half
to ride to the place, adding that the road was dreadfully
bad; and shortly after the driver of a mule cart said we
were twelve hours from Mafeking, also assuring us that
the track was terrible. By this time I was so accustomed
to hear as many different accounts of distances as there
were people to give them, that I did not pay much '
attention to the stories I was told. All were unanimous,
however, as to the state of the road, so I caused the
wheels to be well greased and all the brakes to be put
carefully m order. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon I
determined to go on horseback to Mafeking, whatever
the distance might be. After riding about two miles I
came to a post-house, where I was told that Mafeking
was 16 miles off, and that from this point to the town
there was no water. I left word for my head man to halt
at this station, and to start next day at sunrise. I galloped
on for a couple of hours, crossed an enormous bog in the
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