Part 19

I told her I thought we were both too tough to die of cold, and then we both (feeling a little better for the tea and warmth) had to tramp off again to give brandy to some of the bad cases. After that, they put on another night sister, so the work was not quite so hard, and we could take rather longer spells in the duty room to get warm, but we have not had rain (as well as the cold) except on those two nights.

Last night was full of excitement: during the day a poor young Australian lad had gone off his head and had been put in a guard tent, and he tried to get hold of the sentry's bayonet. Then there was much commotion because the C.O. found one of the signalmen was drunk, and brought him down to the guard tent. Then Sister ---- found an orderly straying about, who was supposed to be special with a young R.A.M.C. lieutenant who is down with fever, and the orderly did not seem to know what he wanted; so Sister flew off to the tent, and found the lieutenant very much upset, and saying that the orderly was quite mad, and had refused to go and fetch the wardmaster when he ordered him to do so; he said he could not tell Sister what mad things the orderly had been doing; so she had to send for the medical officer, who got the orderly removed at once and another posted.

There is not nearly so much drinking as there was at first, but still they do find ways of getting drunk at times. A little while ago there was a great row because the convalescent officers were allowed to drive or ride about, and they used to go over to the next town and bring back whisky and champagne. I don't think there was much harm in it at first (except that it was a bad example for the men), and it was winked at for some time, until they had a very rowdy lot of men in, and then one day one of them was found to be suffering from D.T.

I am glad I am not Lady Superintendent up here: I should find it hard to know where to draw the line with the present lot of sisters; at first they were given every liberty, and were rather encouraged to go to dances and riding picnics, &c., with the men; then, when their behaviour began to be talked about, the authorities put up notices in our mess-room of rules referring to conduct of which no lady would be guilty, rules which were, in fact, an insult to us, but which we cannot say are unnecessary, because there are just a few sisters who don't care what they do--one of them was seen at a hotel at the next station smoking cigarettes with a most undesirable companion!

We can only hope the war will soon be over, and let us all go home; otherwise, the sooner sisters of that sort are weeded out the better. They seem to have been choosing the sisters in a very casual way at home lately, and, though there are plenty of sisters out here who are working hard and well, they will probably all get classed together in the public estimation with those who are simply "frivolling" and getting themselves talked about.

XLVII

UITENHAGE, CAPE COLONY, _October 1901_.

It is a long time since I have written to you, but for some time things went jogging on very much the same as when I wrote last, and there was little to write about, and then lately I have had a wretched time of it, so did not feel inclined for writing.

After I finished my turn on night duty I went back to my line, but soon knocked up, and was ill and off duty for nearly three weeks; first with dysentery, and then my damaged side got bad again.

By the time I got to work once more, the weather had very much improved, and my tents were very light. I received from home some splendid boxes of literature, and also of tobacco and jerseys, and some games for the men. I taught them to play Halma, and it was very popular; they used to make out it was a competition between the different branches of the Service--the greens were always the Volunteers, the yellows were the Yeomanry, the reds the Regulars, and the blues the Navy or the Colonials; sometimes they could get a representative of each branch to play the men, and then there was much excitement as to which would get in first.

The men in my line got a photographer to photograph them, and presented me with a large copy. You can understand that we were fairly slack when I tell you that we used to brew toffee in the duty room on afternoon duty. I think we were all very tired of ration feeding, and we were all getting thin, and when one gets to that stage one has a sort of craving for sweet things, so the toffee was very popular.

Something went wrong with the washing arrangements for a time, and we could not get our things washed, so for a week or two we had to wash for ourselves, and, irons being very scarce, we had to press our things by putting them under our mattresses and sleeping on them!

A column camped for a night near to us, and sent us in some sick, including a good many cases of measles, that had to be sent to an Isolation Camp. They had no sisters out there, and it was pretty rough and very dull; but the provision cart went out every day, so I was often able to send them parcels of papers, &c.

Early in September the Town Guard were all under arms, as there was some looting of stock quite near to us; and there were many rumours that we were going to be attacked (for the sake of the rifles and ammunition that the patients had brought in). The rifles, &c., were therefore sent to the next station.

After that there was more fighting down at Dundee, and then the Natal Volunteers were ordered out again.

All this time I was very seedy, and trying to exchange to another station; but several of us had rather good reason to believe that, so many sisters having sent in for an exchange, their applications were never forwarded to the P.M.O.!

Then they had a "Court of Inquiry" at the hospital, and I was obliged to give some evidence: and it was simply horrid having to do so. After that I felt so bad I wrote to the P.M.O. direct to say that as I could not get an exchange, might I be allowed to resign? as my brother was just now in Natal, and I proposed to go to stay with him, before going to England.

At last I obtained leave of absence, and later on obtained leave to resign.

_Very_ much to my surprise, about this time, I learnt that I had been "mentioned in despatches," and, a little later on, that I had been awarded the Royal Red Cross; I am sure I have not done anything to earn it, nor have I done as much as many of the others; but, of course, it is very nice all the same.

I had such an awfully kind letter of farewell from the men of my line before I left, thanking me for what I had done for them.

We had a good many "Gentlemen Troopers" in, the last part of my time, and some exceedingly nice fellows amongst them. One, who was especially helpful, had been an officer on one of the big liners that came out here, before the war. He is now a gunner on one of the armoured trains, and has had a very exciting time of it.

My brother was in Durban, so I left one morning at 3 A.M. to join him; I put myself to bed in the train the night before, but I was prevented from sleeping by the shunting of engines and by the letting off of steam, &c. I was the only lady on the train till we had got some way down the line. We were delayed for an hour soon after we had started, as there had been a bad collision the day before, and as the telegraph line was damaged they had to give us a pilot engine.

It was a very rough line, and the train swayed about so tremendously that I was feeling quite sea-sick; then, when we were rattling down a steep hill, there was a sudden explosion, which, of course, made us think of Boers and many things, and we pulled up with such terrific jerks that we and our baggage all became mixed up on the floor. As soon as we could disentangle ourselves, we looked out--quite expecting to see a party of Boers--but only saw one man waving his arms violently, and we came to a standstill just as we rounded a sharp curve, and found ourselves immediately on the tail of a heavy coal train that had got stuck on our line; the explosion was a fog signal they had laid to stop us, and it saved us from coming a very nasty cropper down a steep bank.

I had told my brother I should spend the night with friends at Pinetown and join him in Durban the next day; but when I was leaving I had a wire from him to say I had better come straight down, as he might have to sail the next day, so, _en route_, I wired to my friends not to expect me.

I had a very early breakfast at Glencoe (and the usual wash at a tap on the platform!), and we were so late in reaching Estcourt, where we were supposed to lunch, that by that time I had a really bad headache, and could only rise to a cup of tea and a roll.

Inchanga is the place where one always dines, whether going up or down, and we were due there about 7 P.M., but about 8.30 P.M. we got stuck in a siding about a mile from Inchanga; and there we had to remain nearly an hour because Lord Milner was dining at Inchanga, and we had to wait till he had passed; we did not bless him for taking so long over his dinner while we starved! By this time I was feeling really ill, and thought it might be partly from want of food, so I made myself eat some soup and a little chicken; then I was establishing myself in the train again (thankful to think that it was a "no stop" run to Durban), when another wire was thrust into my hand from my brother saying, "No beds, if possible sleep Pinetown; not leaving till following day." I groaned, but bundled out again, with my kit-bag open, and my rugs, pillow, books, &c., all loose, just as the train departed. I thrust my goods into the hands of an astonished little Kaffir boy, who helped me to pack up my kit-bag, and of course I had to leave my heavy baggage to take care of itself.

I did not have to wait long for the "Kaffir Mail," which _does_ stop at Pinetown, but I knew my friends would all have gone to bed as they were not expecting me, and of course no one would meet the train, and their house was some way from the station, and it was raining steadily! so I felt pretty miserable. I was put in a carriage by myself, and after we had started found there was no light in it, and I felt really ill, and wished I had not made myself eat any dinner!

However, just as we ran into Pinetown I looked out, and some one hailed me, and there was one of my best old Pinetown orderlies (now working on the line). He seemed so pleased to see me that I felt inclined to embrace him, but refrained! As soon as he had seen the train off and had locked up the station, he shouldered my bag and escorted me to my friend's house. They were all fast asleep, but soon let me in, and I don't know when I have been so thankful to turn into a comfortable bed as I was that night. It was a little over eight months since I had slept in a house.

The next morning they brought me a delicious breakfast in bed--hot scones, &c.; you don't know what it was like after camp feeding, to have a pretty tray with a cloth on it, and everything dainty and nice; and I was very loth to leave both my bed and my kind friends; but about mid-day I again boarded the train for Durban, retrieved my baggage at the station, and then found my brother at the Marine Hotel.

I had time to see a few friends and do a little very necessary shopping, and then we went on board the _Arundel Castle_ to go down the coast to Port Elizabeth.

You can't think how funny it was to walk upstairs again: the Pinetown house was a bungalow, so I did not have to try stairs till I got on board ship. I still feel as though I must duck my head every time I go through a door, and when it blows in the night I always wake up and wonder whether I ought to take the mallet and attend to the tent-pegs; and then, when I realise I am not under canvas, there is such a satisfaction in being able to lie down and go to sleep again.

We did not stay in Port Elizabeth, but travelled by train straight on here, where my brother has about three days' work. We have a very comfortable little house to ourselves, with a garden full of such lovely flowers--Maréchal Niel roses, &c.

This is a pretty little town, and many of the people, who are most pleasant and friendly, have called on me. Near to Uitenhage there are still some wild elephants, but I had not time to make their acquaintance.

To-day the minister of the Dutch Reformed Church took us to see the Riebeck Girls' College; such good buildings, and such bright-looking scholars. They have a kindergarten, and then all the standards up to the highest--those working for university exams. The Resident Magistrate took us to see some nursery gardens that send flowers all over South Africa. After the barrenness of the Natal uplands these masses of flowers were quite lovely, and I was given a beautiful bunch of carnations.

To-night we have some people dining with us, and to-morrow we return to Port Elizabeth, where we shall probably stay about ten days.

XLVIII

KIMBERLEY, SOUTH AFRICA, _December 1901_.

From Uitenhage we returned to Port Elizabeth, where my brother had about a week's work, and then we had to wait a few more days for a steamer; but several old Kimberley friends were down there, and a good many other people called, so I had a very pleasant time.

Port Elizabeth was a little agitated about the plague; they had had about a hundred cases, and about half of that number had died, but just then there were only twelve in the hospital.

One day I went out with three ladies to a place they call the Red House, and had a delightful row up the Zwartkops River. Another day Mrs. ---- drove my brother and me out to her father's country house, "Kraggakama," about a fourteen mile drive; a beautiful bungalow house, and such a lovely garden, surrounded by dense, semi-tropical woods, with little paths leading away into the woods; many monkeys and other creatures around.

We had lunch out there, and found strawberries just ripe in the garden.

From Port Elizabeth we had meant to go straight back to Kimberley, but, after many wires, it was decided that my brother must go to Oudtshoorn, a place a long way from the railway, where there had been cases waiting for a long time for trial, as it had not been considered safe for a judge to travel there.

To reach Oudtshoorn it was necessary to go by steamer to Mossel Bay, and the mail steamers, as a rule, do not call at Mossel Bay. Moreover, Port Elizabeth being an infected port (with plague), the mail steamers were not keen on taking passengers from there; so there were many obstacles to be overcome.

I packed up my heavy baggage and sent it up to Kimberley; then the _Norman_ was signalled, and we went down to the jetty, and had to be examined by the medical officer of health for plague symptoms! and then the harbour-master took us off in a special tug.

The next morning they put us ashore at Mossel Bay, and there we had to wait some hours as the Commandant was very doubtful as to which was the safest route for us to take; there were still a good many Boers in the surrounding country, and, though they probably would not wish to interfere with us, they would certainly be very pleased to annex our provision cart and also our horses and mules; and the C.O. had so weak a garrison that he could spare us only a small escort.

After some time spent in wiring, it was decided we should drive to George and sleep there. The baggage and provisions were sent on with a mule cart, and, after an early lunch, we got away in two Cape carts with four horses each.

The distance was about thirty miles, and we outspanned only once--at Brak River, where we had some tea, and there an escort of six cyclists met us from George, and the Mossel Bay men turned back. The cyclists were very smart fellows; some of them scouted ahead, and the others rode with us very steadily uphill and down. It was getting dark when we neared George, and the Commandant and Magistrate rode out to meet us, and then stayed and had dinner with us at the hotel.

George is a pretty place, with streets lined with fine old oaks, and with big arum lilies growing in the fields around.

Just in front of the hotel there was a stout little sandbag fort with a small gun, and, of course, there was very strict "Martial Law" there; pickets on every road, and no one could leave the village or come in without a permit, and even with a permit you must be within the picket lines by sundown. No one might be outside his house after 9 P.M., and lights must be all out by 10 P.M.

We were to sleep at George, and the Commandant told us that he had already sent out a patrol of men, who were to sleep at the top of the Montague Pass, and meet us there the next morning; he wished us to slip away quietly in the early morning, and his patrol would soon join us, and ride with us till we met the troop that was being sent out from Oudtshoorn to meet us.

The Commandant has about 300 men under him. They are nearly all local men, in fact many of them Boers, but he was quite confident of their loyalty, and said the poor chaps were suffering badly for it, the rebels burning their farms and doing them all the harm they possibly could. Just when we were there he was very sad because one of his scouts, quite a young lad belonging to George (and very popular in the place), had been most cruelly shot by them after he had had to surrender.

The next day we started in our carts about 6.30 A.M., every one seeming to think it would be a risky drive. After we had gone some way our driver began to pull up and looked scared (he could speak only Dutch), and we made out that he could see some horses off-saddled higher up the mountain, and he thought it was Boers waiting for us. With some difficulty we explained to him that we expected the George escort to meet us at the beginning of the Pass, and then he agreed to go on; but we were all somewhat relieved when we got up to the horses and found they belonged to genuine District Mounted Troops, and that they had not seen any Boers about.

That day we travelled between forty and fifty miles, through beautiful mountain scenery, which reminded us of Switzerland (minus the snow); lovely ferns and cool, dripping water, and quite high mountains all round.

We outspanned only once for a breakfast-lunch at Doom River about 10 A.M.; Scheeper's commando had honoured them with a visit there, for looting purposes, just before he was caught.

At Hymen's House, about mid-day, we were met by a captain and twenty-two men from Oudtshoorn, and the George men went back. We got safely into Oudtshoorn about 3 P.M., and expected to be there about three or four days, but the work was heavier than had been expected, and we were there a whole fortnight. This was rather fortunate for me, as I knocked up with a very sharp touch of dysentery again, and should not have been fit to travel much sooner.

The Oudtshoorn people were extremely kind, and, when I got better, I had some charming drives to visit farms and other places of interest. It is a rich farming district, and it was the first time I had seen anything of ostrich farming and tobacco growing; so I found a great deal to interest me; they also grow grapes and other fruits, and it is a good corn-growing country.

The ostriches do especially well all along the course of the Oliphant's River. I got some good photos of the ungainly creatures.

Martial law was very strict, and (besides the same rules as those which I told you were in force at George) the farmers were not allowed to keep any horses or food supplies on their farms in case the Boers should take a fancy to them;--all horses had to be sold to the Remount Department at a fixed price, and farmers and other residents in the district, who were accustomed to keeping plenty of good horses, might be seen coming into town with oxen in their traps; and as they were not allowed to keep more than a week's supply of food or forage on their farms, and as some lived many miles away, they had to spend a good part of their time on the road in drawing their rations, as, of course, the oxen are very slow travellers.

They were reaping the corn when we were there, and it all had to be carted into town and sold to the military people, as they cut it.

Oudtshoorn, being far from the railway, had been very short of provisions (groceries, &c.) for some time past, and the military authorities would not allow any waggons to go up from the coast without a strong escort (which could not often be spared); but a convoy had been sent through before we got there, so there was plenty of food, and our provision cart had a few luxuries which seemed to be appreciated at the two dinner parties we gave.

From Oudtshoorn we still had more than a day's journey to join the railway at Prince Albert Road, and horses were so scarce that it was not easy to get decent animals. We sent the baggage cart (with mules) on ahead, and, eventually, my brother and I (and our man) got away in a light Cape cart with two fairly good horses, and the other men had four screws in a bigger cart. The scenery, as we crossed the Zwartberg, was very _grand_, but not quite so _pretty_ as the Montague Pass. It was very stiff work for the horses, and we walked a good deal. Our first outspan was near the Cango Caves, where they had recently had a visit from a Boer commando; and then we had to give the horses a good rest at the "Victoria Hotel," high up on the Zwartberg.

We were rather disturbed to find, when we caught up our baggage cart, that it had no brake on it: the road is tremendously steep, as it zigzags down the mountain; so the sergeant in charge of our escort left a trooper to help the boy bring the mules down.

We got in about 7 P.M., but there was no sign of the baggage cart that night, and the Commandant (who had ridden out to meet us and then dined with us) was anxious, because only one trooper had been left with it, so he sent some more men out to meet them.

We had to go to bed without our baggage, feeling very anxious, as every one seemed to think the Boers would much like to get hold of it, and also of the mules.

I have seen plenty of barbed wire in South Africa, but have never seen so much as at Prince Albert; they stretch it even across the village street at night, and you can't go many yards without getting tied up in it.

The next morning, if we were to catch our train (and there was only the one train a day), we knew we must be away by 7.30 A.M.; but still no sign of our baggage; and then, at last, we heard that it was safe, but the crossbar of the harness had broken, and they had had to spend the night on the top of the mountain; a trooper had ridden in and gone back with new harness; so, after sitting at our gate with the Commandant, with a fresh supply of carts, and a fresh escort, until it was too late for it to be _possible_ for us to catch our train, we had to decide to wait till the next day, and various wires had to be despatched about the railway carriage, &c.

About two hours later the missing baggage-cart arrived all well, with a very weary driver and troopers in attendance.

We had a pleasant day at Prince Albert, and the next day (having sent the baggage on at an early hour) we had an easy drive of twenty-eight miles with some excellent horses (most kindly lent to us by the Commandant), to the rail at Prince Albert Road. We outspanned only once, at Boter's Kraal, where the final escort met us, the sergeant coming up to salute and to tell us that he and his men "had searched the kopjes thoroughly since 4 A.M., and had seen no Boers to-day!" but at Boter's Kraal they told us of a recent visit from Pyper's commando.