The Boer in Peace and War (2024)

E-text prepared by Michael Ciesielski, Jeannie Howse,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(https://www.pgdp.net)

BY

ARTHUR M. MANN

Author Of 'The Truth From Johannesburg'

WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS

London
John Long
6 Chandos Street, Strand
1900

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE BOER IN PEACE AND WAR

CHAPTER I ToC

A Boer may know you, but it will take you some time to know him, andwhen a certain stage in your acquaintance is reached, you may begin towonder whether his real nature is penetrable at all. His ways are notthe ways of other people: he is suspicious, distant, and he does notcare to show his hand—unless, of course, there is some pecuniaryadvantage to be gained. He is invariably on the alert for advantagesof that description.

His suspicious nature has probably been handed down to him frompreceding generations. When he first set foot in South Africa he wasnaturally chary concerning the native population. He had to dealfirmly with Bushmen, and the latter certainly proved a source ofcontinual trouble. The Boer set himself a difficult task when heundertook to instil fear, obedience, and submission into the hearts ofthese barbarians—a task that could only be faced by men of firmdetermination and unlimited self-confidence.

These characteristics have always inspired the Boer, and although hemay often have been the object of derision, it is to his credit thatthe predominant qualities mentioned have enabled him to pull throughthe miry clay. Without these qualities, it is patent that the littleband which landed at the Cape long years ago would have succumbedbefore the conflicting forces which then existed. And as succeedingyears passed on, and the sun still shone upon the heads of thepioneers, it is worthy to note that, despite the difficulties whichcontinually presented themselves, the little band multiplied,prospered, and evolved an ensample not too mean to contemplate.

The Boer cannot be charged with any incapacity where the meretreatment of natives is concerned; he can manage that businessperfectly. In the first place, he does not make the too common mistakeof allowing the black populace to insert the thin end of the wedge.This is a mistake too often fraught with serious results, and the Boerknows it. A native, no matter if he be Swazi, Zulu, Basuto, or anyother nationality, will always take advantage where such is offered,and he will follow it up with enough persistence to warrant ultimatesuccess. In Natal, at the present time, this mistake is very apparent,and, in consequence, one very seldom encounters a native who iscontent to attire himself in any other manner than that adopted by hismaster. He demands decent clothing, and, if possible, it must be newand fashionable. I have known cases where a 'boy' has been presentedwith a respectable suit of clothes a little too small for him, and itis unnecessary to add that he disposed of that suit. People who havehitherto allowed their children to put their pennies in the SundaySchool Mission box, will perhaps hesitate to continue supporting the'poor, down-trodden native' when they learn that he is so fastidious,and perhaps, after all, their spare coppers might be assigned to amore deserving cause.

The Boer does not treat his black servants in any such fashion—heknows better. He puts them on a sound footing to begin with, and heleads them to understand that they must remain there.

This method of treatment where the natives are concerned has, to agreat extent, insured the progress of the Boer in South Africa. He haslaid down certain laws at the outset, and he has rigidly adhered tothose laws. He employs a different method of treatment from that whichis attributed to the Natal farmer and others who employ nativeservants. He has never allowed his original attitude towards nativesto become compatible with the British idea; he prefers still to lookupon them as slaves, although he is perforce required to regard themas servants. The difficulty in Natal with regard to the rapidlyincreasing native populace, and how to deal effectually with thequestion, might have arisen in the Orange Free State, for instance,were it not for the fact that the native, in comparison with the whitepopulation, is small. By a Law passed in the Volksraad some few yearsago, it became compulsory for farmers to allow only a limited numberof native families to remain on the farms. This created considerabledissatisfaction among both farmers and natives, and the result wasthat native labour approached the inadequate in a very short time.Hundreds of native families left the State, and although the Lawultimately admitted of a wider interpretation, the native populace hasnot materially increased. The present attitude of natives in the townsis not altogether satisfactory since the passing of this Law. Labourbeing scarce, they are inclined to take up an independent attitude,which, if fraught with little danger, is at least calculated toproduce a certain amount of friction between white and black. Added tothis, there is the fact that the education of natives, which isbecoming more general, undoubtedly assists the growth of thisindependence. The Boer farmers in this connection adhere to theirpristine view of the matter, namely, that educating natives amounts tocasting pearls before swine; and although this does not tend toencourage the work of the missionary, there may possibly be a certainamount of truth in it.

Before the arrival of British subjects at the Cape, the Boer had itall his own way. He looked upon himself as practically the ruler ofthe country, and it was not natural that he should look with favourupon the advent of a probable rival. He lived peacefully in away—that is, when he was not in open conflict with the natives. Hekilled his game and cooked it and ate it heartily, and he enjoyed ameasure of happiness. He had found a home; the free-and-easy lifesuited him; and if he was not possessed of riches (which would havebeen of little value to him then), he had, at least, health andstrength and an abundance of daily food.

But one day the now accursed Englishman crossed his path, and thatmade a considerable difference. He perhaps wondered why the Englishcame there at all, when he was just beginning to develop a greatcountry. But he did not, of course, know then what he knows now,namely, that the English are insatiable land-grabbers! He looked upontheir advent more in the light of a huge slice of impertinence. Heknew also that it was dangerous to meddle or contend with them, so hemerely looked on with a suspicious eye. He watched their everymovement, and he also very probably looked for the day of theirdeparture. But they did not depart; they had come to stay.

The Boer did not like his English neighbours from the start; there wasfar too much of the go-ahead persuasion about them. He wanted to jogalong quietly and cautiously, and he very naturally resented thepresence of people in whom the desire for progression was strong. Solong as the Boer was left to himself he was not aware of his owntardiness. He was very much in the position of a cyclist on the track;it needed a 'pacer' to show how slowly he was travelling. The 'pacer'in this instance brought with him no commendation in the eyes of theBoer; he merely created suspicion and ill-feeling, which ultimatelydeveloped into rancour.

When suspicion lays hold of a man it invariably changes the whole ofthat man's character. It did so in the case of the Boer. It debarredany chance of reconciliation with the English for the future. The Boerdoes not know the meaning of compromise, and if he did, it would goagainst his grain to entertain it. His nature is stubborn; he cannotbring himself to look at a question from any other view-point than hisown. He will argue a point for hours, and although he may be in thewrong, it is a moral impossibility to convince him that he is not inthe right. His consummate ignorance may largely account for this; buteven semi-educated Boers are not much better in this respect.

The Boer makes an excellent pioneer, and when he found that theEnglish ideas were not compatible with his own, he decided to movefarther north. That is another of his characteristics—independence.He is not only independent to a degree, he is sensitive; and when hediscovers by accident that he is a much-aggrieved party, hisindignation does not usually take a violent form—he simply clearsout. He may be somewhat different where the Transvaal is concerned—hemay be indignant, but he has no intention in this instance of adoptingthe procedure of his forefathers. The latter had not yet dropped intoan inheritance glittering with gold; they were merely agriculturists,and they desired pastures of their own. Some of them found desirablepastures in the barren wastes of the Free State, and subsequently themajority wended their way to the Transvaal.

It is not, of course, my intention to reiterate history. History isgood enough when it is new, but I should only be covering ground whichis already familiar to most readers. My purpose is to present glimpsesof the Boer as he is to-day.

CHAPTER IIToC

The Boers are very much like the Scotch—they are clannish. Every Boerhas a solid belief in himself, to begin with, and every Boer has aprofound belief in his brother. This characteristic has manyadvantages: it not only welds a people together, it is a sufficientguarantee of success in times of trouble and difficulty, and it hasstood the Boer in good stead. He likes to tell you that no difficultyis insurmountable in his eyes—nay, further, he does not believe inthe existence of any difficulty which he is not competent to overcome.Rumours of trouble with natives do not appal him, because he knowsbefore he slings his gun over his shoulder that he is going forth toinflict due punishment upon the insurgents. He does not in anyinstance entertain the thought of a repulse. He marches to the frontwith a firm, determined step, and he does not rest until he hasconclusively settled the matter.

The march to the front is a sort of family concern. I have triedoccasionally to unravel the relations of the numerous families incertain districts, but it seems to me that the complications are toogreat to admit of analysis. For instance, it will be found that thefamily of Wessels is closely allied to the family of Odendaals, andthe Odendaals, on the other hand, are related to the De Jagers. Thiskind of thing worries and tantalizes a man, and the only safeconclusion to arrive at is that the entire nation is linked togetherin some way or other by family ties. This may account for the factthat it is seldom necessary to introduce one Boer to another—they arevery well acquainted without such formalities; if they are not, theyvery soon strike up an acquaintance.

Of course there are exceptions, and I remember one in particular. Theinstance I refer to occurred in a store. One of the gentlemen inquestion was leaning heavily against the counter, and one couldobserve at a glance that he, at least, had a good opinion of himself.Presently Boer number two entered. He was small in stature, like theother man, but there was a note of uncertainty about him which seemedto betoken that his opinion of himself did not measure up inproportion to that of the other Boer. Number two looked about him abit, and occasionally directed a furtive glance at number one, who, onthe other hand, stolidly regarded the array of goods spread out beforehim. Number two seemed to have settled the question in his own mind atlast, for he approached the other party and held out his hand.

'I am Britz,' he said laconically, as the other touched theoutstretched hand indifferently.

'Ja!' said number one; 'I am Papenfus.'

The conversation ended here, and number two made a silent departure.

The preliminary salutations of another pair of Boers are probably asinteresting. It was during a prolonged drought, and both gentlemen hadevidently experienced a difficulty in finding a sufficiency ofwater for the purposes of ablution. They had not met for a number ofyears, but the recognition was mutual.

'Almachtig, Gert, you are still as ugly as ever!'

'Ja!' replied the other readily; 'and you are still alive with thatface!'

The Boer is coarse in his conversation, although he prefers to regardit as wit. He likes to participate in a conversation bristling withthis sort of wit, but when you come to tell him a really good thing,he fails entirely to grasp the point, and your joke falls flat,resulting usually in a painful silence.

He is also very chary of complications in the handling of money. Hebrings his wool into town once, and sometimes twice, a year, and thatstaple comprises the current coin of the country. His clip is weighedoff in due course, and he proceeds to the store and sits down whilethe clerk figures up the amount. You may be foolish enough to ask himif he will buy a plough or a bag of coffee, but he continues to smokehard and expectorate all over the floor without giving a definitereply. He wants to handle the money first, and then he will arrangeabout his purchases. Within half an hour he will probably have in hispocket two or three hundred golden sovereigns (he does not look uponbank-notes with favour; he wants something hard and substantial), andhe will at once proceed to the matter of buying. At the end of the dayhis waggon is loaded up with a variety of household and agriculturalnecessities, for which he has paid, say, £150 of the money receivedfor his wool. This is his way of doing things, and he thinks it is theright one.

During the Boer War of 1880 merchants in the Free State had a bad timeof it. The Boers were, of course, very much excited, and the Englishmerchant was looked upon scornfully and contemptuously. One Boer hadalready drawn up a memorandum of what he considered should be themodus operandi in dealing with the storekeepers. Two or three wereto be hanged, and the others were to be tied up in front of their ownbuildings and shot down like crows. That was in Harrismith.

The Boer has not much to boast of in the matter of brains, but what hedoes possess he is careful not to abuse. A man can abuse his brains inmany ways—by taking to strong drink, for instance. I have been amongBoers for some years, and I can honestly say that I never yet saw aBoer the worse for drink. He may indulge occasionally, but he veryseldom carries the practice to excess. When he does take it he likesit strong—as strong as he can get it. He scorns the idea of mixing itin water. He reckons that he did not go to the canteen or hotel to payfor water. He wants the full value of his money, and he takes it.

I have said that the Boer is suspicious; he is likewise jealous bynature. If there happens to be rinderpest on the next farm to his, heis never contented until he gets his full share. He does not mind ifthe visitation plays extreme havoc among his stock so long as he isnot left in the lurch. I remember some time ago hearing of a Boer whohad decided to build a large dwelling-house on his farm in place ofthe wretched little building he and his family had hitherto occupied.This Boer had made some money, and contact with English people in thetowns had resulted in more advanced ideas. He determined, therefore,to spare no expense on this new project—he even included a bath-room.The building was scarcely completed, when about a dozen Boers, whowere also capitalists in a way, immediately set about makingarrangements for similar structures. This form of jealousy is, ofcourse, good where trade is concerned.

If the Boer is nothing else, he is at least talked about. I saynothing else advisedly, because he is nothing else. In his own countryhe is nothing, and out of it he is less, if that were possible. It mayseem out of place on the part of a Scotsman to make such an assertion,because a Scotsman (and a Yorkshireman, too, by the way) is, in theeyes of the Boer, a friendly being, and far removed above a mereEnglishman. A Boer will give a Scotsman the best in the house, and putup his horse comfortably, but an Englishman in the same circ*mstancesfares differently. It is, of course, unnecessary to say that whilea Scotsman makes no objection to exceptional hospitality, his views ofthe Boer do not differ materially from those of any other person ofwhatever nationality. He drinks the Boer's coffee, and shakes handswith him and all his family, but there may be, and usually is, a greatdeal of deception mixed up with such extreme good-feeling. I couldnever understand, nor has it been explained to me, why the Boer is sopartial towards Scotsmen, unless it be that a great many Scotch wordsresemble words in the Dutch language. Perhaps that may in some degreeaccount for it, although I do not think there is anything to be proudof on the Scottish side.

It is necessary to reside in the Boer Republics to place one in theposition of knowing something of the Boer, and a mere fortnight won'tdo it. Of course, there are Boers and Boers, as there are Englishmenand Englishmen. There are Boers who are competent to rank with anyEnglish gentleman, and whose education and abilities are of no meanorder. Unfortunately, however, these are altogether in the minority.

The Boers are all farmers, and, according to their own statements, apoverty-stricken people. They plead poverty before an English merchantbecause they fancy it will have the effect of reducing prices.Fortunately, the merchants possess rather an accurate knowledge ofsuch customers, and in consequence they lose nothing. One would assoon believe the generality of Boers, as walk into the shaft of a coalmine. He has a reputation for lying, and he never brings discreditupon that reputation. When he lies, which, on an average, is everyalternate time he opens his mouth, he does so with great enthusiasm,and the while he is delivering one lie, he is carefully consideringthe next. When he can't think of any more lies, he starts on thetruth, but in this he is a decided failure. He is afraid of beingfound out. For instance, a merchant will approach a Boer respecting anoverdue account. The Boer will at once plead poverty, and speculateon how he can possibly manage to liquidate his liability. If themerchant knows the ropes sufficiently (and the majority of merchantsdo), he will drop the subject for half an hour, at the end of whichtime he will ask the Boer if he wants to sell any cattle or produce,as he (the merchant) can find an outlet for either or both. The Boer'sdiplomacy is weak, and he falls into the trap. He has fifty cattle todispose of; the merchant buys them, and the overdue account, withinterest, is paid.

The Boers are very superstitious in a great many things. For instance,they regard locusts as a direct visitation from the Almighty. When thepest settles down upon ground occupied by Kaffirs, all the availabletin cans and empty paraffin tins are requisitioned, and there is amighty noise, that ought to frighten off any respectable locust swarm;but the Boer, when he sees them coming, goes into his house and layshold of his Bible, and reads and prays until he thinks there ought tobe some good result. The Boer is gifted with great and abidingpatience (in such cases only), and, no matter if the locusts stop longenough to eat up every green blade on his farm, he will continue tostudy his Bible and pray. But, as I have remarked parenthetically, itis only in cases of emergency where he evinces such a display ofpatience and exercises such a pious disposition. When he is notpraying, he is putting ten-pound stones in his bales of wool to beready for the merchant's scales, and transacting other little mattersof business of a like nature.

The Boer is not particular in the matter of cleanliness. It suits himjust as well to be dirty as to be clean. It is no exaggeration to saythat numbers of Boers do not wash themselves from one week's end toanother; and they wear their clothes until they drop off. It is alwaysa matter for speculation what the womenfolks do. It is certain thatthey do not exert themselves too much, if at all, in their own homes.They generally do all the cooking and eating in one room, and in theother end of the house you will probably find a litter of pigs, ascore of hens, etc. And the one room is about as clean as theother—most people would prefer to sleep alongside the pigs and thefowls.

The most painful proceeding is to dine in such a place. Unless you areblessed with a cast-iron constitution and a stomach of the samepattern, you are not likely to survive. Usually they put down boiledmeat first, after which comes the soup. The chief regret in your caseis that the soup had not come first, so that you could have disposedof it right away and had something on top of it. Coffee, of course, isnever forgotten, and it would be a direct insult to refuse it. Coffeeis a great thing with the Boer. He would as soon be without house andhome, as his bag of coffee. Before selling his wool to the merchant,almost the first thing he asks is: 'What is your price for coffee?' Ifa satisfactory quotation is forthcoming, he does not hesitate long indisposing of his staple, although, of course, at the highest priceobtainable.

The story goes that once upon a time a Boer, whose conscience hadremained dormant from his birth, came to a certain town to purchasegoods in exchange for produce. One of the articles he bought was,naturally, coffee, and of that he took half a bag. While the clerk wasengaged in attending to some other matters, the Boer quietly and, ashe thought, unobserved, undid the cord which secured the mouth of thecoffee bag, and slipped in a quarter of a hundred-weight of lead whichwas lying in the vicinity and which he evidently calculated on findinguseful. The clerk observed this movement without betraying the fact,and when the order was completed his eye fell upon the coffee bagcasually.

'Oh! wait a moment,' he remarked. 'I fancy I have forgotten to weighthat coffee.'

He weighed it over again and carefully noted down the figures in hislittle book, no doubt much to the chagrin of the silent Boer, whoprobably had not reckoned on paying for his lead in the sameproportion as the cost of his coffee per pound.

On another occasion, a Boer, the extent of whose wealth was probablyunknown to himself, found it necessary to dispute certain items in hisaccount with his storekeeper. This sort of thing, by the way, is therule and by no means the exception. It seems natural also when it isnoted that the majority of Boers run twelve-monthly accounts, and bythe time they come to square up, they find a difficulty in recognisingsome of the articles purchased eleven or twelve months previously.This particular gentleman's argument had reference to a pair of spurs,which he deposed had been given to him as a present by the manager,and his hitherto good opinion of the clerk who had charged the spursin his account was permanently damaged. He said he wasn't a man ofthat sort. If he wanted to buy spurs, he could pay cash down for aboutfifteen thousand pairs and, in short, he could buy up all the spurs inthe country! He would pay for those spurs now: he wouldn't take a pairof anything, gratis or otherwise, from that merchant as long as helived. He would go home and put eight horses into his wagonette anddrive round the country and tell all his friends about that pair ofspurs, and he wouldn't rest until he had completed the task to his ownsatisfaction.

The book-keeper tried in vain to calm him down by presenting him witha bunch of grapes, but he only regarded the peace-offering withextreme contempt. He wanted to know what else he had been chargedwith, and the clerk, in conciliatory tones, proceeded to read over theseveral items. He came to 'one pound of tea.' That was the last straw.

'What! a pound of tea—a pound! Almachtig! Ik koop thee bij de zak (Ibuy tea by the bag).'

The suspicious nature of the Boer is always in evidence, although theEnglishman must perforce humour it. It would be interesting to learn,for instance, how many thousands of pounds are sewn up in mattressesall over the country because the owners are chary concerning theintegrity of bank-managers. They have no doubt whatever but that abank is a paying concern (one Boer entered a bank recently andwanted to see the place where they made the money), but they wouldmuch rather keep their own money out of it, in case it should getmixed up with the earnings and savings of other people and be lost.The story runs that one old vrouw journeyed to town in her waggon oneday for the express purpose of depositing £300 with the local bank,but when she found that they wanted to give her so much for keeping it(interest) instead of asking her to pay a small amount by way ofcompensation for taking charge of her money, she became suspicious andtook her £300 back to the farm and the double grass mattress oncemore. It is unnecessary to state that this particular lady nevertrusted another banking institution.

And so it is with other things. When once you have aroused suspicionin the Boer—and it sleeps lightly—you can safely say good-bye to himfor ever. He knows within his heart that the English are bent upontaking advantage of him, and when a man makes up his mind like thathe is seldom disappointed.

There is one characteristic of the Boer which the most casual observercannot fail to notice. It is his entire indifference to personalappearance. He likes to see his vrouw gorgeous in all the colours ofthe rainbow (pink and green being the favourites), and he doesn't mindif the material costs a little over ninepence a yard; but he evincesno desire to discard the suit he has himself worn for three or fouryears without a change. So long as it holds together, he is content towear it, and he does not in the least mind what other people may sayabout it. It may be supposed that this applies exclusively to thepoorer classes, but I can assure my readers that I have known it to bethe case with scores of men who could well afford to wear a brand-newsuit every day of the week and every month of the year. And what doesthis characteristic indicate? It indicates the man. He has no desireto advance beyond what he is—what his forefathers were. The lattermanufactured their own clothing; they made their own shoes, and, hadthey been presented with a cast-off suit belonging to the Prince ofWales, they could not possibly have appreciated it, and they certainlywould never have thought of wearing it. The Boer does not care todress respectably; he prefers to finger the coin and sit down andwatch the increase in his stock. He would have everything convertedinto stock, because that is his great ambition.

Another thing—he lacks taste. His clothes never by any chance fit him(in the eyes of more refined people), and his boots are always threesizes too large; but then he thinks he is getting more for his money.If he must needs buy boots, he takes care that he invests his money inquantity, not quality, or style.

CHAPTER IIIToC

The Boer would like to lay hands on the man who invented ploughs. Notthat he has any aversion to ploughs as ploughs; he merely objects tothe labour involved by the introduction of these implements into themarket. He sees some sense in an ox, a sheep, a goat, and a horse. Putthese animals on a bit of green veldt, and they do the restthemselves; they thrive and multiply, and enhance the position oftheir owner. But a plough! It means that he requires to take off hiscoat and stop doing nothing. The Boer would like to argue that if Godhad meant the soil to be disturbed by ploughs and such like, He wouldnot have left the solution of this problem in the hands of mereinventors: He would have ordained a means whereby the soil would haveof itself turned over once a year at springtime.

The Boers are a pastoral people—one can hardly say an agriculturalpeople. They have been that sort of people from the start, and theywill never change. They are used to waggons and oxen and sheep, andthe waggons and oxen and sheep have got quite used to them. There isabundance of proof in the Dutch Republics to satisfy any ordinaryperson that a Boer, no matter if he can count his sovereigns by themillion, would never dream of giving up his farm and turning countrygentleman. He may take no part in the actual work (and this is notmuch in his line under any circ*mstances), but he exercises thatamount of careful supervision necessary to successful farming, andcontinues to do so until the end. Even the members of the Volksraad,who are usually well-to-do farmers, never neglect their crops, albeita handsome income is assured in their official capacity.

But does farming in the Dutch Republics pay? Most emphatically, No. Iam not making this assertion because I have tried it myself, I amsimply quoting the dictum of every Boer. I have been careful toobtain a consensus of opinion on this question for the guidance ofthose who may contemplate embarking upon such an unsatisfactory anddangerous undertaking. Farming does not pay. For my own satisfaction,I recently questioned a Boer with regard to his average yearly income,and he was good enough to humour me.

The value of his stock worked out as follows:

It must not be supposed for one moment that here we have a rich man. Iam merely citing the case of a farmer who said to me: 'I'd rather be abook-keeper at twenty-pounds a month.' He had no idea that his annualincome figured up to anything like £537. And yet that same man wouldendeavour to make a good bargain in purchasing sixpennyworth ofhairpins because he considered himself a 'poor man.'

There are hundreds of farmers, more particularly in the Free State,who are unable to realize the extent of their wealth in stock or theacreage of their own farms. They brand every ox, sheep, and horse thatbelongs to them, and it is only by such marks that they are enabled torecognise their own property when they see it. I have known instanceswhere hundreds of horses belonging to one man have succumbed in asingle season on account of horse-sickness, and their owner regardedthe loss as a mere trifle, because he knew that such a catastrophe didnot materially affect his position.

Klondyke had its 'millionaires in huts,' Boerland has its millionairesin hovels. You will find farmers who are worth many thousands ofpounds living in places under whose roofs a Kaffir would certainlydisdain to pass the night. They possess wives and families, too, butthey exhibit no desire to better their domestic surroundings. If thehouses happen to include another room other than the living room, thatextra room is invariably used for storing grain. The women are untidyand unprepossessing, and the children have not yet learned toappreciate stockings and shoes. It is almost paradoxical to think ofhuman beings in a civilized country living such lives, people who havegreat possibilities within their reach. The children readilyassimilate the habits and ways of their parents, and grow up into menand women of a like type, and so on from generation to generation. Nowonder, then, that the Boers are a retrograde race.

It has been made sufficiently plain that when once the Boers haveacquired a country, they allow that country to rest in peace—froman agricultural point of view only. This is quite apparent when it isexplained that the Free State has an estimated acreage of 7,491,500,and out of that only 75,000 acres are cultivated. This is not thefault of the country, but of the Boer himself. He has no soonersettled down on a bit of land, where there is a plentiful growth ofgrass to feed his stock, than he longs for pastures new, his onlyreason for staying where he is being that he does not want theEnglishman to step into his homestead.

No exhibition of national prejudice is intended when I say that werethe Dutch Republics sprinkled with a few hundred Scottish farmers,these countries would assume a more fertile and healthy aspect in twoor three years. The soil is good; all that is wanted is concentratedhard work, and the countries would surprise several people—the Boers,for instance—by the extent of their agricultural wealth. There are,of course, climatic disadvantages to contend against—prolongeddroughts are of common occurrence—but, as in other countries, thefarmer must take the bad with the good. The great thing with the Boeris stock, and plenty of it. He does not care about anything else untilthe rinderpest comes.

Comparisons are odious, but let us compare the Boer with the Englishfarmers. Should the harvests of the latter be destroyed (as in thecase of an entire county of farmers in England at one time), ruinstares them in the face, showing that stock is of little moment. It isdifferent in the case of the Boer. Take his stock away from him, andyou deprive him of his daily bread. Of course, the facilities forsuccessful cultivation in England are different from those in theDutch Republics; at the same time, there is such a thing asirrigation, and were this resorted to more generally, and a largerarea of land put under cultivation, the Boer farmer would be on a morestable footing.

A somewhat erroneous deduction has been gleaned by many people fromguide-books, in which particulars are given respecting the limitedextent of arable land available, but guide-book makers mostly preferto guess at the figures rather than go to the trouble of ascertainingthe truth. Without further reference to the guide-books, it isnoteworthy that the possibilities of both the Transvaal and Free State,from an agricultural point of view, are greatly under-estimated, thefact being that a very small proportion of arable land is cultivated atall. In a number of cases water facilities are entirely ignored.

Wool is the current coin of the country with the Boer farmers, and themerchant who is desirous of continuing his business must have acertain amount of capital behind him, because the farmer likes to seemoney at least once a year. Things have changed somewhat now. In theolden days it was different. It was absolutely necessary then to putdown a cheque for the full amount, but the average farmer is becomingless suspicious in transactions of this nature.

The life of the merchant during the wool season is not exactly a happyone. He likes to please his customers, but he does not alwayssucceed. The average farmer who comes in with a load of wool has theappearance of a man whose primary intention is to buy up all thestores (although he may go away with a bag of coffee only), andafterwards consider with great deliberation the question of acquiringthe whole town. All this is based upon the fact that he has a load ofwool for sale. The merchant would rather give him five shillings thanfivepence per pound, because it would be a certain sign that the goodtimes had arrived. No matter, however, what price the merchant offers,your average farmer can always obtain more. He does not say where; heprefers to keep that up his sleeve. He also advances by farthings andhalfpence, because he is chary about entering into the intricacies ofeighths. He, moreover, strongly objects to accepting a lower pricethan that given to his neighbour. His neighbour may be an excellentman, and he may be in possession of very good sheep, but that his woolshould be more valuable is not so apparent—is, in fact, mostimprobable. Every farmer has implicit faith in the merits of his ownparticular clip, and if differences really exist, he is prepared tostate emphatically that the advantage is on his side.

CHAPTER IVToC

There has been a good deal of speculation as to why the Boers are suchexperts with the rifle, but that is easily and naturally explained. Inthe first place, they know their own country, and that is a decidedadvantage where bare veldt is concerned. An Englishman on the sameground would make mistakes, and probably sight his rifle at 200 yards;but the Boer puts his up to 500 yards and kills his game, whilst theEnglishman, with his imperfect knowledge of the country, misses it.When the Dutch first settled in South Africa, they were compelledeither to shoot their dinner or go without. So they began straightaway by shooting their dinner—and they have been able to shoot itever since. In warfare, too, they know exactly how to proceed. Theyknow that it is policy to shoot the Englishmen and save their ownskins. So they get behind large stones and shoot the Englishmen. Theyknow, further, that the best guarantee of success is to waitpatiently. They know nothing about military discipline, and they don'twant to know anything about it. According to their idea, this is howthe crack British regiments proceed: They march up in a body—closeorder—and when they come within range of the Boers the commandingofficer gives the following commands: 'Halt! Attention! Present!Fire!' And by the time the commanding officer has given the word'Fire!' the Boers, comfortably stationed behind stones, have shotthose regiments down! There is, perhaps, some truth in this.

But the Boer, after all, believes in peace. It suits him better to beon his farm, with a pipe in his mouth, and Kaffirs to do all the work,while he walks around his acres and finds fault. They stick to theircountry, and they fight for their country; but they don't likefighting much. I came across one particular Boer who had been atMajuba, and who was perfectly clear in his own mind that he did notcare much about it; and he did not entertain favourably the idea offurther warfare. He explained that he quietly got behind the customarystone, and shot round the corners. During the time he was thus amusinghimself, the stone was struck by fifteen English bullets, and he didnot calculate on waiting to see what effect number sixteen would have,so he left that stone. The Boers are always very reticent where thenumber of their killed is concerned. In English circles it isjocularly asserted that only one Boer was killed at Majuba, and allthe other Boers went into mourning for him. It is not known, and neverwill be known, how many were killed at Krugersdorp by Jameson's men.There is one thing, however, which goes to prove that a good numbermust have succumbed on that occasion. It is rumoured that the Boers donot want any more fighting with men who shoot as straight as thosecomprising Jameson's Horse.

Defence in the Transvaal and Orange Free State is provided forprincipally by the burghers, who are liable to be called upon foractive service between the ages of eighteen and sixty. The mountedpolice force in both Republics is comparatively small, and thepermanent corps of artillery in each case is also small. The Boers donot, as a matter of fact, repose much confidence in artillery at anytime, and they regard the mounted police force as valuable only intime of peace. The burghers themselves comprise the entire force. Inthe Free State alone there are 17,000 burghers liable to be called upon commando at a moment's notice.

The country is divided into districts, and each district is under thecharge of a Commandant and a Field-cornet. The duty of the latter isto warn the burghers on receipt of instructions from his Chief, and hemay also call a meeting of burghers in his district should any crisisof a serious nature be imminent. On the whole, the Field-cornet's lifeis not a happy one; and although he has numerous opportunities ofmaking himself objectionable and disagreeable, he usually prefers toperform his onerous duties in a humble and unassuming spirit. In timesof peace those duties are few. In the first place, he must satisfyhimself that all the burghers in his district are in possession ofrifles and ammunition; and in the second place, he must call theburghers together once a year for inspection. The good old times arenow over when a score of burghers could with impunity produce one andthe same rifle. In those days it was customary for burghers to appearfor inspection when convenient to themselves, and in thesecirc*mstances it was not a difficult matter to borrow your neighbour'srifle and present it as your own. But this little game was found out,and an order was at once issued to the effect that all burghers mustassemble at one particular hour. The weapons used are of differentkinds, but they must all be breech-loaders. Every burgher mustlikewise be in possession of thirty rounds of ammunition, and in timeof war the Government supply unlimited ammunition. Should the burghersbe called out to action, they must supply themselves with provisionsto last fourteen days. This might be difficult to carry out, but theexplanation is simple. The provisions consist solely of biltong—thatis, dried meat, generally venison. The sustenance contained in even aninch of this is such that the fourteen days' provision amounts to butlittle in bulk. It is said that if a Boer has a rifle, ammunition, anda piece of biltong in his pocket, he will fight till further orders.

It is surprising how quickly the burgher forces can be levied. Thiswas made very apparent when Dr. Jameson marched into the country onDecember 29, 1895. It is also well known that news travels quickly,even in the outlying districts, and in this respect the Boers appearto be quite as remarkable as the Kaffirs.

All this military discipline might seem to be only good in itself,were it not for the fact that the Boers still retain their reputationfor being good shots. Even the young men are not behind their fathersin the masterly manipulation of their rifles; in fact, while a largenumber of Englishmen are reputed to be born with silver spoons intheir mouths, the birth-right of every Boer is undoubtedly the rifle.

Both in the Transvaal and Free State there exists a healthy spirit ofrivalry between Englishman and Boer in the shooting line. Competitionsare very frequently arranged; it is to the credit of the colonialEnglishman that he can give a good account of himself, and at the sametime hold his own against any Boer. This is fortunate, because theBoer always respects a man who can record as many bull's-eyes ashimself, no matter what his nationality may be. The great opportunitythe Boer had of giving vent to his contempt for the English was whenthe latter appeared on the battlefield in compact regiments, andafforded the best possible target for shooting at from behind the nowproverbial stone.

In these times of universal political difficulties it may beinteresting to survey the position of the Orange Free State now thatwar has actually broken out with Great Britain. There is a patriotismlurking in the breast of the Boer which would indicate that his greataim was the overthrow of the hated Englishman. It would not beadvisable to quote the opinion the generality of Boers have of thepoor Englishman; needless to say it is strong, emphatic,comprehensive, and by no means complimentary. Obviously the origin ofsuch opinion concentrates in the fact that the Englishman is toopersevering in other people's countries, and, moreover, shows anaptitude for developing the said countries which, in the opinion ofthe Boer, is altogether too progressive. It is, of course, a pity thatthe Englishman cannot accommodate himself to the antiquated ideas ofthe Boer, because if he could, he would probably exonerate himself inthe Dutch eyes, and at the same time find himself away back in theeighteenth century. But in this advanced age he is too much for theBoer, and this is probably the explanation of the existing friction.

The Orange Free State has all along evinced a helping-hand whereTransvaal broils have occurred. This is not surprising, consideringthat the Free State is governed by a Volksraad wholly in sympathy withthe mighty Oom Paul. In the time of President Brand things wereslightly different, although even his Volksraad held him in check andexercised its own influence. But President Brand had sense enough tosee that participation in Transvaal difficulties could in no waybenefit the Free State, and, in fact, that interference was notdesirable or advisable. When the previous Boer War broke out, heintimated that no commandeering would be enforced in the Free State,but that those burghers who chose to engage in warfare might do so. Hewould take no active steps until the independence of the Free Statewas endangered.

His successor in office, President Reitz, was not credited withanything in particular, but it was understood that should theVolksraad decide to co-operate with the Transvaal in any instance, hewould willingly give his consent. This was confirmed when Dr.Jameson's entrance into the Transvaal was made known. Threedistricts of the Free State were promptly commandeered, and burghersswarmed to the border.

About the same time President Reitz vacated his office, and PresidentSteyn is now at the head of affairs. President Steyn has nowconclusively shown his sympathy with the Transvaal, and his occasionalinterviews with Oom Paul were presumably for the purpose of ratifyingthe compact from time to time. This is confirmed by the fact that theVolksraad some considerable time ago proclaimed that, when hostilitiesbroke out in the Transvaal, the burghers were to hold themselves inreadiness to proceed to the border. This was not merely with theobject of protecting the border, but to render assistance to thoseacross the border, and now they have joined their neighbours ininvading Natal.

The feeling amongst Englishmen in the Free State was, of course,strong, but Englishmen are not considered in the matter at all. Ifthey are burghers of the State, they must perforce conform to thelaws thereof, and fight to the death even against their own relations.If they refuse to go to the front, it is not certain what wouldhappen.

There is another aspect of the question, and a serious one, too. Whenthe Free State burghers were called to the border, and war wasactually declared, they feared that they would return to their homesonly to find that their wives and children had been murdered, theircattle stolen, and their property burnt to the ground. This new andterrible danger came from Basutoland. The Basutos have a grudgeagainst the Boers, and they were only waiting an opportunity to wipeout that grudge for ever. They are a warlike race, they are wellsupplied with arms, and their horsemanship is notorious. They like theEnglishman, but they look upon the Boer as something to wipe off theface of the earth. Of course, their discrimination between English andDutch when the time comes for them to take action, if it ever doescome, will not save the Englishmen in the Free State.

The Basuto question may not have escaped the notice of the Volksraadin their anxiety to assist their brethren in the Transvaal, but theiraction would seem to indicate that it had. Had they been wise, theywould have left their sister country to settle its own affairs, andhave looked nearer home for something to do; but this view, althoughnow too late, may already have engaged their attention.

Apart from the Government of the country, it may be interesting toreflect upon the opinions of the burghers themselves, i.e., the Dutchburghers. The majority of the young men originally favoured the actionof the Volksraad. They had not tasted war; they had only heard aboutit; and their contempt for the English race generally suggested atrial. Their enthusiasm was undoubtedly great, and the idea of lendinga helping-hand to another country evidently fascinated them. But theirelders have now come to look upon interference as bad policy, and theydread the possibility of handing over their possessions to the wilyBasuto. The feelings of the Free State Boers towards their Englishfriends were scarcely so vindictive as in the Transvaal, but perhapsthat is because there are no gold mines in the Free State.

CHAPTER VToC

It must not be supposed that the intelligent Boer is non-existent;but, as I have said, he is in the minority. He reads the newspapers,and he has a great deal to say on both sides. He has very few personalprejudices; his whole concern is concentrated in a desire to furtherthe progress of the country. His mind is developed; he does not regardthe Englishman as an interloper; he wants 'to live and let live.'

There is, unfortunately, the other element, a most undesirableone—the Boer who is continually stirring up ill-feeling. You willfind him everywhere, and he is always at it. If his own brotherhappened to be an educated man, he could not get on with him; hisnature is despicable. President Kruger thinks that race hatred willgradually disappear, for 'wherever love dwells, prosperity mustfollow.' Can anyone imagine love existing in the nature of the man Ihave cited? President Kruger himself is an educated man, an able manin his own sphere. If he practises the art of brotherly love to thesame extent that he preaches it, why does he not make some arrangementby which it would be possible to instil a portion of the sentimentinto some of his erring children? Then we should have no more racialhatred to concern ourselves with; we should have instead the inspiringspectacle of a reclaimed Dutchman falling upon the neck of his Englishnext-door neighbour and weeping.

At the same time, however, even supposing Oom Paul's influence werecapable of producing such picturesque results, it would be wellmeantime if a little fundamental education could be introduced. Thismay seem impracticable at the first blush, considering that thepopulation is so widely scattered, but no doubt there is some hiddensolution. Ignorance is accountable in a great measure for theill-feeling which exists between Dutch and English, and rancour cannotbe removed until ignorance is ordered out through the back-door.

There is also the fact that the generality of the people exhibitlittle or no interest in the leaders of their Government. It is saidthat the perusal of biography ennobles and develops the mind. This isalso the case when a man follows with interest and profit the maturereasoning and diplomatical tact of some of our present-daypoliticians. I say some of them, because not all of them exhibit thatintellectual refinement which characterized the great Plato. Still, agreat many people might acquire a tolerable education if they appliedthemselves to the perusal of newspapers in this way, and it is my firmbelief that the Boers would benefit by such a course.

The average Boer does not know exactly the meaning of the word'politics,' except that in most things he prefers to be conservative.He likes to move along very quietly, without any outsideinterference. He knows full well that he has sent his representativeto Parliament, and he leaves that member severely alone. Sometimes themember calls a public meeting of his own accord, and the Boer attendsthat meeting, not because he is anxious to bring forward any matteraffecting the welfare of his country or district, nor because themember has failed to satisfy him, but merely because he is desirous ofmeeting his fellow-men and discussing crops and Kaffirs and oxen andsheep and wool—in short, anything outside of politics, in which heprofesses no interest whatever. He is not interested in generalmeasures for the benefit of the whole country; his attention is fullyoccupied with the affairs of his own particular piece of land, and solong as he himself prospers, he does not trouble about the prosperityor otherwise of his neighbours.

Oom Paul is the leading light, and should he elect to do this or that,he need exercise no discretion concerning the probable feeling of thecountry. He is the man at the wheel, and the crew have such implicitfaith in him that he can practically steer where he wills. He maysometimes experience a little opposition in the House, but he islong-headed as well as hard-headed, and he invariably holds the trumpcard. He is not a Boer in the ordinary sense of the word; he is only aBoer in the sense that he smokes hard and prefers coffee. He lives ina very ordinary dwelling-house, and it is even stated that his vrouwstarches and irons his dress-shirts, but this may only be surmise. Atall events he does not allow these trifles to worry him, his renowneddiplomacy being directed chiefly to the management of his cosmopolitanchildren, who are apt occasionally to wax troublesome and exceed thebounds of caution.

When a Government assumes a more or less aggressive attitude, orsomething tantamount, it is safe to predict that such a Governmentwill encounter difficulties. It may be a good Government; but it willnot be a successful one. The actions of any Government reflect uponthe country, adversely or otherwise. In a country like the Transvaal,the Government is a weighty concern which does not so much considerthe voice of the people as the preservation of its own individualsanctity. The presidential chair represents the universal criterioneither for good or for evil, although it is not usually associatedwith evil. It practises the art of cabling—with Mr. Chamberlain forpreference. The voice of the people is duly represented, but it is avery weak and halfhearted voice. There is not that hearty ring in itwhich is so marked when, for instance, a crowd of Englishmen greettheir Queen. President Kruger represents the Transvaal burghers, andthe requisitions which are published previous to the Presidentialelection are sufficient and convincing proof that he is a popular andhighly respected man. These requisitions usually refer in a generalway to the numerous difficulties through which Oom Paul has so ablypiloted the country. According to such requisitions innumerabledifficulties have assailed the poor country on all sides, and thegeneral tone throughout would imply that they were insidious anduncalled for. The country had done nothing; the people had gone abouttheir business innocently, and attended church regularly, and nothoughts of intrigue or anything resembling it had existed in theirbosoms. Their desire was to govern the country honestly and with aview only to its prosperity, adopting precautions at the same timewhich would exclude the participation of foreigners—Englishmen, forexample. They didn't believe in the English element; it was toodangerous. The President all the while tried to make out that he likedthe English; but he didn't. Of course, a great Power like theTransvaal must keep up appearances. The German Emperor, for instance,doesn't say straight out that the English are a bad lot, and thereforeOom Paul must not display official ignorance by doing that which theGerman Emperor does not do. A man may not exactly be born a King, or aPresident, but he can learn a lot of useful little formalities bywatching the other Kings and Presidents. It will be observed,therefore, that the Transvaal has all along been very docile andconsequently very badly used. And because it has displayed the bestand noblest qualities and on all occasions endeavoured to obviatefriction with other people, it has been unjustly assailed and trampledupon.

Oom Paul is a very good man, but he kicks at the traces a great deal.He likes to go out of his way to find out what other people are sayingabout him, and he displays, moreover, another undesirablecharacteristic—he is suspicious. It is in the family; it is in thewhole people. He is continually working himself up into the conditionof a man whose highly-strung nerves convince him that the whole worldis against him. He always imagined that everybody was working outplans of campaign by which it would be possible to annex the Transvaalto the British Empire. Fortunately there were other matters and othercountries to consider, and if Oom Paul would just study a map of theworld for a few weeks and reflect, he would probably find his positionless irksome. But Oom Paul has a great deal to think about—he mustthink for the whole nation. The 'unfortunate affair which occurredafter 1895' seems to trouble him a great deal. Despite the fact thatthe country was well paid for it, this incident seems fated to crop upat least every six months, and it will be handed down to generationsuntold, so that it may ever be kept green. It will be nurtured andwell looked after, and the one regret will be that it does not bringin an annual income in proportion to the original amount.

The Boer's politics are summed up in the single word 'Defence.' He isnot aggressive, but he is strong on Defence. Possession with him isten points of the law—it is everything. Let the independence of hiscountry be threatened, and he is at once a man of action. Hefiguratively converts his ploughshare into a sword, although the usesof that weapon are unknown to him. At the time of the Jameson Raid itmay safely be asserted that there did not exist a single Boer—youngor old—who was not in possession of a serviceable firearm and thefull complement of ammunition. The Kantoors—i.e., the Governmentoffices—were daily besieged by eager men as eager to possessthemselves of the instruments and munitions of war. Every man wasready; farmers were no longer farmers, but soldiers, prepared to facethe worst in the defence of their only love—their country.

CHAPTER VIToC

The Boer is not what one would call a sentimental person; he ispractical in all his ways. If he sees a thunderstorm approaching, hedoes not go into raptures over the magnificence of the lightning; hewatches that thunderstorm calmly and philosophically. And if he hadanything to do with the order of the elements, he would have thatthunderstorm come his way, and he would detain it exactly three daysover his particular farm, so that the rain should leave a lastingimpression upon his mealies and forage. The Boer likes wet weather,probably because he gets so little of it.

I have said that the Boer is practical in all things; he is even so inlove. The old story concerning the 'opzit' candle may have applied informer days, but the Boer of the present day does not waste his timein any such fashion. He has probably become cognisant of thematch-making methods practised by other nations, and he has,therefore, abandoned that affected by his forefathers. It is still acommon thing, however, to see him astride a horse with a sleek skinand noble appearance and plenty of life in it, cantering gaily towardsthe residence of his beloved or intended. Sometimes, too, in order,perhaps, to add more lustre to his own appearance, he is to be seensuffering untold agony under the unyielding brim of a tall, white felthat, trimmed with green veiling. He likes to look imposing, and so hegets under that hat. This in many instances may account for therestiveness of his steed, which is as yet unaccustomed to the weightof a person with such a grotesque headgear.

The Boer has several methods of courting. There is one thing heobjects very strongly to, however—he doesn't like courting in adrawing-room; he prefers a dark and quiet corner on the veranda. Letus picture a little scene in this connection. Observe young Piet,dressed in his best Sunday suit, and wearing a worried look inaddition, sitting on one end of a long form that stands on the verandaof the house; and observe also a fair young damsel, who has just beeninitiated into the art of doing her hair up on top, sitting on theother extreme end of that form. The night may be dark and only thestars visible, or the moon may be shining brightly overhead, castingshadows awry here and there, and endeavouring to catch a furtiveglimpse of the lovers under cover of the veranda.

A painful silence takes the place of conversation at the outset, andyoung Piet occasionally coughs in an apologetic manner. When he doessum up sufficient courage, the moon has travelled a considerabledistance; but then Piet is not so sentimental as to make any referencewhatever to the moon.

'That's a fine horse your father has bought of Dirk Odendaal,' saysPiet, in a tone which suggests that his new paper collar, purchasedfor the occasion, is choking him.

A two minutes' pause ensues.

'Ja! Piet,' agreeably assents the maiden after an interval which Pietreckons must be at least half an hour—and he has forgotten about thenew horse altogether.

'Your father's oxen are looking well after the rain,' continues Pietsome minutes later; and this time he has reduced the space betweenhimself and the maiden by about three inches.

After the lapse of another few minutes, the maiden, who is evidentlybashful, ventures again, 'Ja! Piet.'

Piet's eyes wander away across the open veldt in front of him, andgradually from the observation of kopjes, they wander upwards towardsthe pale moon; but, as has already been remarked, that luminarysuggests no new theme in the mind of Piet.

'The last Nachtmaal was very good.'

With this he once more edges away from his end of the form and coversan additional three inches.

'Ja! Piet.'

Another person would have become exasperated at this stage, but not soPiet.

'The new minister preaches very well,' is followed up by an advance ofthree more inches.

'Ja, Piet!'

The form may be an inconveniently long one, and this naturally hampersPiet somewhat, because by the time he has covered half the distance,his stock of remarks may be exhausted. But he gets close up in time,by the exercise of perseverance, and when he is at last in a positionto manipulate his left arm in connection with the maiden's waist, hedoes so with a sigh of relief.

'I think I love you a great deal,' is what he says when he has placedhis arm to his satisfaction. The maiden whispers 'Ja, Piet!' and thething is done.

But the young Boer does not attach so much importance to pleasantfeatures and agreeable dispositions, as he does to the worldlystanding of the lady's parents. If there is the slightest prospect ofa handsome dowry in the shape of one or two farms, the inducement toenter into married bliss is, of course, greater than in the case ofthe young lady who merely brings with her a nice set of false teethand a pleasant countenance. Young widows are in great demandthroughout the country, because, as a rule, they are in possession offarms and stock which require the undivided attention of a responsibleman, and that man must be a husband.

Such an instance occurred only the other day. This very fortunateyoung man, before his betrothal, could conveniently count his richeson the fingers of his left hand—in pence! But he is happy now,because he can bring in a load of wool every year with his own waggonand oxen, and talk to the merchant with all the swagger and assuranceof a full-blown capitalist.

It must not be supposed that such occurrences are uncommon; theyhappen almost every week, which would seem to indicate that rich youngwidows are very plentiful.

In these latter days a Boer wedding is arranged on a very grand scale.No matter if the young couple reside fifty miles from the nearesttown, they all come in to church to get fixed up. Friends andrelations arrive, with great ostentation, in conveyances drawn byfour, six, and sometimes eight, horses, the number depending on thewealth of the families. They come from far and near. You can see themcoming to town when they are yet miles away across the veldt—that is,if the day is bright. The dresses of the women-folks flash gaily inthe sun, and the old vrouw would not change places with the Queen ofHolland as she proudly surveys her offspring seated around her in thewagonette. The old man presides unctuously at the ribbons, and hecracks his whip every now and then just to let his team know that heis there, and that he is a very capable person.

The generality of weddings are uninteresting, but occasionallysomething unique is introduced. In the town of Harrismith a very longtime ago, a transport-rider decided to take unto himself a fairpartner. He was a practical sort of person, and in cases of this kindhe did not believe in allowing business to become a secondaryconsideration. Transport-riding in those days paid very handsomely,and the intervention of side issues might have meant a serious loss.Accordingly, this particular gentleman (who had meantime been loadingup coal) repaired to his tent-waggon at the appointed hour, andproceeded to attire himself in the conventional black suit. In orderto economize time, he pulled his best clothes over his workinggarments, and hastily rubbing his face and hands with a coarse towel,he hurried towards the church. Within ten minutes he was back againloading up coal, his better half being occupied in preparing dinner.

The Dutch are not a musical nation, and for convincing proof it isonly necessary to attend Divine service in any of their churches.Their rendition of psalm-tunes reminds me of A.K.H.B.'s storyregarding the lonely Italian, who, passing the Iron Church inEdinburgh one Sunday morning while the congregation were engaged inpraise, and on inquiring of the beadle 'What that horrible noise was?'remarked very sorrowfully, 'Then their God must have no ear formusic' It is strange, nevertheless, that no matter how poor a Boer maybe, he will have an organ in his house. There are instancesinnumerable where the only respectable piece of furniture in the houseis an organ. It does not, of course, follow that every Boer is amusician, but it is a fact that nearly every Boer knows how to produceat least one tune, even if it is only the Volkslied or nationalanthem. They will come into the stores, and the first thing they do isto sit down at an organ and show people generally what they can do. Inthe meantime the English merchant and his clerks fume around and vowall sorts of things under their breath, but the indefatigable Boerknows nothing of all this, and he would not care if he did.

CHAPTER VIIToC

Besides the everlasting worry of keeping the English community inhand, the Boers have been visited by other plagues, such asrinderpest. In 1897 such a calamity befell them, and although the richfarmers did not suffer materially, the poorer class experiencedreverses sufficient to discourage them for life. The mistake made wassimply this (and it is characteristic of the Boers): every individualfarmer and owner of stock exercised his own judgment throughout, andthe most drastic results followed as a consequence. Temporaryexcitement naturally took the place of clear judgment. A man may bepossessed of all his faculties and yet lack that knowledge which wouldsave 95 per cent. of his cattle. The desire to save the cattle wasthere, but the farmers were too prone to accept the first methodwhich turned up. Without even considering thoroughly the merits anddemerits of any particular method, they rushed at it with the sameprospect of success as might be attributed to a blind man going insearch of the North Pole. Of course the system would 'either kill orcure.' That was how the majority of them put it. The veterinarysurgeons received very little encouragement. If a Boer makes up hismind that his cattle are going to die, he likes to have all the honourof killing them himself, and he does not want any vet. about hisplace, propounding advanced theories which he does not understand.Added to this, it appears that when the disease first made itsappearance in the country, certain vets, made themselves so ridiculousin the eyes of the farmers who invited them to inspect sick cattle,that distrust immediately took the place of suspicion, and confidencewas never established.

The farmers who managed to save a considerable number of cattle werenot slow to make hay while the sun shone, and some of them mayprobably have turned up their noses at the mere mention of the Yukongoldfields. Prospecting for gold is a somewhat risky business, but theBoer looks upon transactions in salted oxen as eminently satisfactory,more especially where the buyer negotiates the risks. Nothing affordshim more pleasure than to hand over twenty or thirty oxen, and receivein exchange twenty-five pounds per head. But, unlike the Englishproblem, rinderpest is not always with the Boer.

In this connection there is a story to the effect that a certain Boerfarmer discovered one day that his cattle had contracted a veryserious disease, and he was advised by the Government vet., whohappened to be passing that way, to inoculate immediately, and afterthe lapse of ten days to repeat the process. When the vet. returned afew weeks later he was surprised to learn that the majority of thecattle had died.

'But that was impossible if you acted on the instructions I gaveyou,' he said to the farmer.

'Ja!' answered the latter, 'that may be, but I didn't do what you toldme; I only inoculated once.'

'And why didn't you do it a second time?' pursued the vet.

'Oh,' replied the Boer, 'because the vrouw said I hadn't to.'

The Boer seldom does anything without first consulting his wife, and itis hinted that the wives made a very bad job of the rinderpest. Thevrouw steers the ship. It is so when the whole family goes to town tomake the half-yearly purchases. In the stores the husband will be foundin deep and earnest conversation with his better half, relative perhapsto the quantity of barbed wire or coffee or woolpacks—anything andeverything required at the time. All this would seem to point to aplain fact, namely, that the vrouw not only excels in physicalproportions, but also in the matter of brains. There can be no doubtabout the first mentioned, and there seems to be little question aboutthe other as well. It is authoritatively stated that at the time of theBoer War the women were so bitter against the English that they spurredon the men to do things which they themselves deemed foolhardy. Thisanti-English feeling seems to have been intensified since then, and itis often jocularly remarked by Englishmen in the country that so longas an enemy makes things square with the womenfolk they need have nofear of the men. The women may have the reputation of knowing and doingmore than the men, but they are certainly not thrifty. They are kind totravellers (provided they come on horseback and not on foot); but theirkindness is too often spoiled by the dirt and general undesirability ofthe atmosphere within their dwellings. A traveller can appreciate a cupof coffee after a long ride; but he likes to have it in a clean dish,and it rather damps his ardour when he finds that he is expected totake the mud along with it.

In this connection there is still another story. This story is relatedby a commercial traveller, and in order to establish itsauthenticity it is only necessary to remark that it has been relatedby at least six different commercial travellers, and in every case theincident has occurred within the experience of each and all.

The commercial gentleman (no matter which one) having been overtakenon the road by a severe thunderstorm, and arriving at a spruit whichhe found he could not then cross with safety, put back to a smallfarmhouse near by. After much parley on both sides, the Boer who ownedthe place agreed to give the traveller and his driver shelter for thenight, provided they would sleep in an outhouse, where the horsescould also be put up. Being only too glad to obtain shelter of anysort, the traveller readily accepted the offer. At this point eachtraveller who has told the story breaks into a graphic description ofhow he passed the night, and how many rats he and the driver killed,and how much of his clothes they devoured, and how he couldn't sleepbecause of the presence of pigs and fowls in addition, which seemedto resent the invasion. Then comes the dawn of another day, and, whichis more important (before its appearance), breakfast. A cloth wasspread on a box in the mud-floor dwelling, and eggs and coffee placedthereon. The commercial was evidently expected to eat the eggs anyhow,so long as he did eat them; for there was nothing visible in the shapeof a spoon. The Boer and his vrouw did not put in an appearance atbreakfast, no doubt disdaining to look upon an Englishman any morethan was absolutely necessary. He had almost concluded this rude andsomewhat unsatisfactory meal when the vrouw entered. She was fat anddirty, and her clothing had apparently been renewed from timeimmemorial by much mending. She now rested her great hands on herhips, and calmly surveyed the English party and the breakfast-tablefor a few seconds. Then she spoke, in Dutch; but he understood—toowell:

'Have you finished?'

'Yes,' he replied in the 'lands taal'; 'but surely you are in a verygreat hurry. I will pay you well for the food and shelter.'

'That's nothing,' continued the vrouw in a business-like tone; 'I onlywant the tablecloth so that I can get the bed made.'

CHAPTER VIIIToC

The Boer is a pious person, who prays to God when he wants rain, andforgets to pray when his mealie crop proves a success. Unlike otherpeople, he does not believe in thanksgiving when he shells one hundredbags of mealies where he only expected twenty. He has no 'harvesthome.' He simply stores his mealies until such time as he can bringthem to town and obtain the best possible price. But let the rain stopaway too long and the sun wither up his crops, and he is a verydifferent man. In every Boer house there is a large Bible, and thatBible is systematically read and re-read when the fates are unkind.The very low class Boer is, of course, unable to read his Bible, buthe takes it over to his nearest neighbour, whose education may nothave been neglected to the same extent.

The Boer journeys to town once every three months with his family inorder to attend Divine Service. These occasions are known asNachtmaal. He brings his waggon with him, and outspans on some openspace within the town. When he cannot arrange for a room or roomsgratis, he sleeps in his tent waggon. He very seldom goes to a hotel,unless this course is absolutely necessary. If he does go to a hotel,he engages a room only, and dines alongside his waggon or else he goesto his particular storekeeper and indulges in sardines and sweetbiscuits He is great on sardines, and his only regret perhaps, is thatthe tin is not edible also.

A Dutch Nachtmaal in the olden days was a sight quite equal to anyLord Mayor's show. The costumes were unique; but in the present daythe womenfolk in particular have learned to ape the English, and thecolours are therefore less conspicuous. Formerly the young ladies woreshort dresses of many colours, and the display of white stockings wasvery general. The men appeared in black felt hats with huge brims,and frock-coats (most of them bordering on green) were the order ofthe day. Veldschoens of home manufacture were never wanting, but inthese latter days veldschoens are regarded with contempt.

The man who probably suffers most at Nachtmaal-time is the organist,for organs are now regarded as indispensable. An organist is usually aman of a sensitive nature, and on such occasions his ideas of goodmusic are apt to be completely demoralized. Nevertheless, he getsalong as best he can, and even if he happens to be dragging acongregation numbering three hundred voices seven whole notes behindhis instrument, he continues to suffer nobly and silently.

The services commence at 7 a.m., and continue throughout the day until9.30 p.m. Baptisms occupy a few hours during the afternoon, and themost common names for youthful burghers are Gert, Barend, Paul, Piet,and such like. The Boers do not believe in departing from thetime-honoured names of their forefathers. Piet suggests the immortalname of Piet Retief, and Paul—well, there is Oom Paul.

Before the marriage ceremony can be performed in a Dutch ReformedChurch, the minister must satisfy himself that the contracting partieshave previously been confirmed. Great preparation for the confirmationis engaged in by the young people a week before Nachtmaal Sunday, onwhich day, in presence of the whole congregation, they are receivedinto the bosom of the Church.

The Boer is very conscientious in the matter of religion. Forinstance, should he be on bad terms with any of his friends orrelations, he will not attend Divine Service. He argues that a man whois not at peace with his fellow-men cannot hope for reconciliationwith his God until the difference has been amicably settled.

It may be observed that the order of service in a Dutch Church is verysimilar to that in vogue in a country church in Scotland. The minutestdetails have much in common, but perhaps I had better not enlargeupon such a coincidence. Before each service the menfolk linger infront of the church door, with their hands stuck deep down in theirpockets and the inevitable pipe between their teeth. They talk aboutalmost everything except religion—the crops, their petty difficultieswith Kaffirs, the last hailstorm and the havoc it worked, and so on.The Boers never enter into theological arguments. Each and all placeimplicit faith in the Scriptural teachings, and they take for grantedeverything from the beginning to the end of their Bibles. Consequentlythe teachings of Scripture are not very firmly impressed on theirminds.

When the organ begins to peal forth the voluntary, the worshipperstroop into their seats. During the choral part of the service thecongregation remain seated, and they rise when the minister prays. Theelderly gentlemen very promptly go to sleep when the text is givenout, and they lean back in their respective corners with the fullassurance that they will not be disturbed for at least an hour.Occasionally they may be gently aroused by their wives or children,whose supply of sweets has been exhausted. By the way, every Boer inthe country has one particular weakness, and that is a desire aftersweets. The young men recklessly walk into a store whenever they cometo town, and devote a portion of their capital to the purchase of'Dutch mottoes,' to which the ladies are very partial. The elderly menare not so particular in this respect.

When the benediction is about to be pronounced, there is a generalscramble after hats, and the last Amen has scarcely been uttered whenthere is a rush for the doors. It seems to amount to a sort ofcompetition as to who will be first in the street.

It may be interesting to pause for a moment and look at thecollections. The poorer classes besiege the stores on Saturday withanxious inquiries for 'stickeys,' i.e., threepenny-pieces. To a poorman with a large family of church-goers this matter of churchcollections is a serious business unless he can get four mites out ofa shilling, as coppers are not used in the Transvaal; but I haveknown men of good standing inquire as eagerly for the despisedthreepenny-piece. When special collections are called for, in aid of anew organ fund, for instance, the results are rather surprising. Inone instance the combined special collections on a Nachtmaal Sundayamounted to a little over £500, with a congregation of only 400. Thispoints to the fact that there is money enough in the country, and itonly requires a church collection to prove it.

It is to be regretted that the Boer does not devote a little moreattention to the education of his children. If there happens to be aschool anywhere near his farm, he does not mind taking advantage ofthis with a view to 'teaching the young idea how to shoot'; butperhaps he takes too literal a view of this adage. His chief care isto see that his boys are taught to shoot straight, and he does notattach so much importance as he might to the three R's. The Boer whocan afford such luxuries engages a tutor for his children, but tutorsare mostly of the English persuasion. They have not yet learned toappreciate the language of the country, and this constitutes a seriousbarrier. Again, one does not expect much of a country school, and themajority of the men who preside over these institutions in the DutchRepublics are there simply because they can obtain no more lucrativean occupation. A number of Free State farmers invariably 'trek' toNatal with their families and stock during the winter months, and thisaffords an opportunity for placing the children at more advancedschools; but then again the objection is serious—the masters areEnglish.

In the town of Bloemfontein, Orange Free State, where the Volksraadthunders forth its mighty convictions, there is a model Young Ladies'College. It seems that one day recently the members of the Raad foundthemselves in want of debatable motions, and it fell to the lot of oneof their number to save the situation. That member directed theattention of his brethren to a certain question affecting the properconduct of the Young Ladies' College aforesaid. It had come to hisknowledge that the Principal of the College had granted, to certainof the pupils who desired it, permission to pray to Almighty God inthe English language. The member forcibly contended that thislamentable state of affairs should not exist, but that every pupil inthe College should be compelled to pray to God in the language of thecountry! A general discussion followed, but it was ultimately allowedthat this matter did not come within the jurisdiction of that Raad.

CHAPTER IXToC

Every town has its Landdrost, and every town has its Landdrost'sclerk. Usually the clerk does all the work, and the Landdrost, in hiscapacity of chief magistrate, passes all the sentences and issues allthe instructions. But, then, Landdrosts, as a rule, are very agreeablepeople, possibly because they are educated and intelligent men, andhave nothing in common with the Boer.

I have one particular Landdrost in my mind as I write. He was a dearold man, but he was dead against Kaffirs and natives generally. Hisfather had been killed by Kaffirs, and this fact probably rankled inhis bosom and ruled his judgments to a great extent. When he wanted toshow a little bit of leniency, as, for instance, after anextraordinarily good breakfast, he would bind the culprit over toserve in his own kitchen for a period of one year withoutremuneration. But he never did get a native to serve the full time,because the native preferred to break the law once more and go to'tronk' instead. Hard work was not in his line.

He is dead now, poor man! but he was a regular type of a Landdrost. Helived a very quiet life, and the brunt of the work fell to the lot ofthe ever-willing and conscientious clerk, which arrangement allowedthe Landdrost sufficient leisure to attend to a somewhat large garden.There were fruit trees in that garden which in the fruit seasonincited every boy in town to deeds of valour, the said deedsconsisting in being able to carry away as much fruit as possiblewithout being caught in the act. For the Landdrost exercised awatchful eye over that fruit. It was currently reported, however, thathis was the first garden to be literally left desolate before theseason had far advanced, and it was usually his misfortune to bedeprived of his fruit just after he had retired for the night, afterhaving prowled about with an empty gun in his hand from sunset tilllate in the evening. It was even reported that one evening, after theold man had retired as usual, a certain person who had a strongpredilection for other people's fruit approached the Landdrost'sgarden with a handcart and a lantern, and assisted himself freelybefore taking his departure.

In conclusion, and as an illustration of the moral tendencies of youngBoers generally, I shall now quote a little scene which was writtensome time ago for another purpose.

In a mealie-field close to a certain farm, which shall be nameless, acurious scene was being witnessed by a very stout Dutch lady. She wasstanding at the edge of the field. Above her head myriads of locustsfloated in a darkening mass. The mealie stalks were only a foot or sohigh, but the locusts knew that they were green, and therefore good toeat, so they hovered around. The mealies were in rows, and betweenthese rows galloped half-a-dozen horses carrying half-a-dozen very rawnatives. The latter were making such a hideous noise, that it seemedto point to remarkable staying powers on the part of the locusts,inasmuch as they still persisted in trying to gain a footing. But theKaffirs cantered their steeds faster, and the noise waxed morehideous, and the fat vrouw continued to urge them to renewed andincreased effort. Round the edges of the patch four or five Kaffirwomen walked, each at a different point, and each in possession of afive-gallon empty paraffin tin and a stick, with which to strengthenand augment the noisy defence. The locusts were reinforced everyminute, and they made repeated and determined efforts to sample theyoung mealies, but the horsem*n and the paraffin tins were too muchfor them.

A small white boy was standing near the fat lady, watching theproceedings with a critical eye. His dress was very primitive, and hishome-made veldschoens were very large, but he was a healthy-lookingboy.

'Ma,' he said at length, looking up into the fat lady's face, 'I seesomething.'

This was rather a peculiar remark to make, because undoubtedly he mustsee something, not being blind.

'Yes,' returned his 'ma,' without taking her eyes off the mealiepatch, 'what do you see, son?'

'I won't tell you, ma.'

'Ma' paid no particular attention to this decision on the part of hersmall son, but he continued to look into his 'ma's' face as ifuncertain about something.

'Ma, I won't tell you what I see,' he continued, coming up closer tothe stout lady and catching hold of her hand.

'Why won't you tell me, son?' asked 'ma,' looking down affectionatelyupon the white head of her boy.

'Not until you promise me something, ma.'

'Well, what must I promise you?'

The boy hesitated for a minute before replying. He had apparentlygrave doubts as to whether 'ma' would concede even if he did ask her.

'Ma, I want to shoot Witbooi with my gun.'

Witbooi was a Kaffir umfaan, who had no particular liking for hisyoung Baas.

'I can't promise you that until your pa comes home, Gert,' said his'ma,' patting him lovingly on the head, and at the same time lendingher critical eye to the mealie business.

The boy left his mother's side and walked away a few yards, evidentlydisgusted with unsympathetic 'mas.' Then, apparently changing hismind, he ran towards her again, and clung to her dress, meantimelooking up in her face.

'I'll tell you, ma—I'll tell you,' he said laughingly.

'That's a good boy,' said 'ma,' again patting him on the head.

'I see waggons coming; that's it!' exclaimed the boy, running awayplayfully, and observing with evident satisfaction the look ofsurprise on his mother's face, as if it atoned somewhat for thedisappointment regarding the fate of Witbooi.

Billing and Sons, Printers, Guildford