During the latter part of this tedious time Colonel Plumer and his
gallant men were but thirty miles away, having encompassed a vast
stretch of dreary desert from distant Bulawayo. This force had been
"under the stars" since the previous August, and had braved hardships of
heat, fever districts, and flooded rivers, added to many a brush with
the enemy. These trusty friends were only too anxious to come to our
assistance, but a river rolled between--a river composed of deep
fortified trenches, of modern artillery, and of first-rate marksmen with
many Mausers. One day Colonel Plumer sent in an intrepid scout to
consult with Colonel Baden-Powell. This gentleman had a supreme contempt
for bullets, and certainly did not know the meaning of the word "fear,"
but the bursting shells produced a disagreeable impression on him. "Does
it always go on like that?" he asked, when he heard the vicious hammer
of the enemy's Maxim. "Yes," somebody gloomily answered, "it always goes
on like that, till at length we pretend to like it, and that we should
feel dull if it were silent."
Although the soldiers in Mafeking were disposed to grumble at the small
part they seemed to be playing in the great tussle in which England was
engaged, the authorities were satisfied that for so small a town to have
kept occupied during the first critical month of the war 10,000--and at
later stages never less than 2,000--Boers, was in itself no small
achievement.
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