The driver, however, was unwilling
to move, and we were all so exhausted that I decided to risk it and
remain, the faithful sergeant promising to send scouts out and warn us
should the enemy be approaching. I was fully determined that, having
left Mafeking, where I might have been of use, I would run no risks of
capture or impertinence from the burghers, who would also certainly
commandeer our cart, pony, and mules.
Then followed another endless night; the moon set at 1 a.m., and
occasionally I was roused by the loud and continuous barking of the
farm dogs. At four o'clock Vellum's dusky countenance peered into the
room, which opened on to the stoep, as do nearly all the apartments of
these hotels, to ask if the mules should be inspanned, for these natives
were all in wholesale dread of the Boers. Hearing all was quiet, I told
him to wait till the sergeant appeared. About an hour later I opened my
door to have a look at the weather: the wind had dropped completely, the
sky was cloudless, and a faint tinge of pink on the distant horizon
denoted where the east lay. I was about to shut it again and dress, when
a dull booming noise arrested my attention, then almost froze the blood
in my veins. There was no mistaking the firing of big guns at no very
great distance.
We are accustomed to such a sound when salutes are fired or on a
field-day, but I assure those who have not had a like experience, that
to hear the same in actual warfare, and to know that each detonation is
dealing death and destruction to human beings and property, sends a
shiver down the back akin to that produced by icy cold water.
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