CHAPTER XI

NEWS OF AN UNEXPECTED INVASION AND BREAK UP OF THE FISHING PARTY

The next day fishing was resumed. Steve did not attach much credence to Nande’s story of Jameson’s invasion, so he was not much disturbed about it. He thought he had plenty of time to enjoy his little holiday and to be back home by the 6th January, when he would be able to watch events and be at hand in case his services were needed to defend his country.

What a surprise awaited him!

As the party returned about midday to camp for lunch, they found a young man there who had just drawn rein for a moment to let his sweating horse breathe, and get a drink of water for himself.

‘Hillo! Whither away in such a hurry?’ hailed Steve in a hospitable way. ‘Stay and have lunch with us.’

‘I dare not. I am in a great hurry. Have you heard the news?’

‘No; what is it?’

‘Jameson has invaded Transvaal territory, and is marching on to Johannesburg.’

‘My God! is it true after all?’

‘Only too true. I am postmaster and telegraphist at H----, and I have just received a wire from headquarters to let the field cornet know at once, with orders for him to _commandeer_ every available Burgher without a moment’s delay. They are to guard the borders against any further invasion from any other direction. The Burghers from Potchefstroom, Rustenburg and Krugersdorp are ordered to intercept Jameson and to capture him before he enters Johannesburg.’

‘May I know your name, sir?’ asked Steve.

‘Certainly; my name is A----n.’

‘But that is a British name, is it not?’

‘It is; but I am colonial born, and I consider myself an Afrikander, and I am going to stand by the Afrikanders to the bitter end. My God! do you think I will stand by and see our Republic invaded in such a treacherous manner, and not do all in my power to resist it? I am not obliged to bear dispatches in this way, but for such a cause I would do a great deal more.’

‘I am proud to shake hands with you, sir,’ said Steve, suiting the action to the word. ‘With such men as you to stand by us, our future is assured.’

‘I am glad to see you’re one of us, sir, and hope to meet you again in more peaceful times; in the meanwhile, now my horse has had a breathing spell, I must hurry on.’

‘One moment, sir,’ said Steve. ‘I want to leave at once for the scene of action. Which is the best way, do you think, to reach it?’

‘I suppose, to take train as far as you can, and where you find yourself stopped, to get a horse (the best way you can), and go on horseback until you reach the place where fighting is going on.’

‘Thank you, sir. Good-bye, and God speed the Republican cause.’

‘Amen, good-bye, and good luck.’

Steve was intensely excited, his breath came in short, quick gasps. He turned to Keith and Harrison, saying,--

‘Look here, you chaps, I do not know what you intend doing, but I can’t stay here another hour, I must get away without a moment’s unnecessary delay.’

‘But, Steve, what could you do if you did go? One man more or less will make no difference. Stay and let us finish our fishing. Time enough to go fighting when we have to go back and our holiday is over.’

Steve shook his head, saying,--

‘No, old man, if everybody were to say that, and want to enjoy their New Year festivities before responding to their country’s call, then Jameson would have an easy march to Johannesburg. No, I must go. The only question is, How? Will you fellows go too, or will you stay and let me have the mule waggon to the station, then I can send it back to you, and you can stay here and have the full benefit of your holiday.’

‘No, Steve, if go you must, I go too,’ said Keith.

‘And I will go too. If there is going to be excitement on, we might as well be at hand and see what is going on?’ said Harrison. ‘As to fighting, I do not yet know what I shall do personally, but one thing I am sure of, I am not going to fight against the Boers. If they have to be suppressed, I will take no hand in it, while I may yet decide to fight with them; for if they are really invaded in this back-handed, treacherous way, the sympathy of all right-minded people ought to go with them.’

‘Well, if we are to go, the sooner the better,’ said Keith, responding kindly to Steve’s wishes.

The driver was called, and told to get the mules and inspan at once, while the rest of the party busied themselves in getting everything packed and ready for their departure.

Steve’s cousin was not consulted as to his willingness to leave or not; he was in the minority and had to accept the decision arrived at; he was sulking on one side, refusing to render assistance in the preparations for leaving. He was undecided what to do; he was not quite sure yet whether the Boers were going to lose or not, so he thought he would keep quiet a little longer, and see in which way matters tended. No notice was taken of him by the others.

In a short time the driver’s assistant arrived with a message to the effect that the mules were lost and must have strayed away. The driver had gone farther to search for them. Steve was in despair.

‘My God!’ he cried, ‘what have I done that this should come to me? Would that I had never left Pretoria, then I might at least have been able to do something.’

‘Keith, come with me like a good fellow and help me to bribe Nande into selling or hiring me a horse. I _must_ get away.’

‘I will go with pleasure, Steve; but I am afraid that after last night’s scene, Nande will by no means be eager to render you a favour.’

They went, but in vain. Nande was still feeling very sore at the straightforward words of Steve, and refused absolutely to let him have a horse on any terms whatever. Steve offered to pay any price, but in vain. He attempted threats, but Nande was strong in the knowledge that in this case, law was on his side, and that Steve could not force him to give up his horse.

‘Well, Keith, old man, I am going to walk. Good-bye, and thank you for your kindness.’

Keith remonstrated in vain, telling him to wait until the mules were found, and that he could never arrive in time to catch the train if he walked, but Steve was mad with excitement. He felt that inaction was impossible; he must do something, and with one handshake he started on his way on foot. He walked fast and long. It soon began to rain, but he walked blindly on, on and on. ‘I must get on. If my people must fight for liberty I must be with them.’ He did not heed the water running into his shoes or streaming down his clothing. The road was very indistinct; the water was running over it, so that he was not sure always whether he was on the road or not. It was getting dark. Surely he ought to have reached the station by this time. He had walked six long hours, and he must have covered more than eighteen miles now. Where can the town be? He could barely walk now, he was so tired and so wet, but on and on he struggled. The strongest human passion possessed him: the passion of outraged patriotism. At last he saw a small building in front of him; it was only a small place, but he hoped to find somebody from whom he might inquire his whereabouts. He did find a man there.

‘Will you please tell me where I am, sir. I am afraid I have lost my way. I want to go to Vereeniging.’

‘Why, sir, you are walking away from Vereeniging. You are about twenty-five miles from the station now. Where are you coming from?’

‘I left about one o’clock from Nande’s Store on the Vaal River. I am afraid I must have taken the wrong road.’

‘Yes, you must have taken the left instead of the right hand road, a few miles after you left Nande.’

‘My God! what shall I do now?’

‘Where do you wish to go to?’

‘I want to reach Johannesburg or Krugersdorp as soon as possible.’

‘Well, you are at least twenty miles nearer your destination now than when you left Nande, so your time is not altogether lost.’

‘Sir, will you not do me a great favour by selling or hiring me a horse, or tell me where I can get one near by; it is most important that I should lose no time.’

‘I am very sorry, but I have no horse; you might get one three miles away, where there is a Boer farm. They have several horses; but come in and have a cup of coffee first. You are wet and cold. I will give you some of my dry clothing to put on in exchange for your wet ones. It would be death for you to keep those wet clothes on.’

Steve accepted with pleasure. He was wet, tired and hungry. He had had nothing to eat since breakfast, as the news received at lunch time had taken away all idea of eating. He entered, had a cup of coffee with a dry biscuit, changed his clothes, and, in spite of his host’s invitation to spend the night there, departed.

‘No thank you, sir. I thank you for your kindness to me, a stranger. If at any time you come to Pretoria, here is my card. If I can return your kindness, please let me know.’

He proceeded in the direction pointed out to him and soon arrived at the Boer farm. It was a well-appointed substantial building, and it was evident that well-to-do people lived there, so no doubt he would be able to get a horse.