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I had a talk with young Schenk Eybel this morning, and he says the answer to the screeve you wrote to the Officer in Command at Gueldersdorp to patch up an exchange of the Englishwoman for that slim kerel of a Boer's son they got their claws on at the beginning of the siege has come in under the white flag this morning.
I remember once seeing several graves within two or three yards of the public road, so that in a year or so the waggons will be rumbling over the heads of those who lie beneath. When you ride up to a Boer's house, the etiquette is to wait until some member of the family asks you to off-saddle, and then you must go in and shake hands with every one, a most disagreeable custom.
De Boer's several other men were gathered there. I felt myself safe where I was, for the moment at least. I cut Hanley in. "Chief, they're closer! Spawn has come! They've missed me! I'll relay what they're saying, but you step it down; there's too much volume." "You're all right, Phil? Thank Heaven for that! Something blew my vacuums." "Chief, listen here they are " Perona: "But he will be back.
This is the gun in which the boer puts all his trust; and although an American backwoodsman would at first sight be disposed to laugh at such a weapon, a little knowledge of the boer's country would change his opinion of the "roer." His own weapon the small-bore rifle, with a bullet less than a pea would be almost useless among the large game that inhabits the country of the boer.
Remembering all this and much more, we claim that England has no right to cast the first stone at the Boer in regard to the treatment of coloured races. The Boer's nature does not admit of such tyrannical actions of which he has constantly been accused. His native servants are treated almost as members of his own family, and often serve him voluntarily for several years in succession. Mr.
If I could get the management of one of those campaigns, I would know what to do, for I have studied the Boer. He values the Bible above every other thing. The most delicious edible in South Africa is "biltong." You will have seen it mentioned in Olive Schreiner's books. It is what our plainsmen call "jerked beef." It is the Boer's main standby. He has a passion for it, and he is right.
Well, perhaps so; but we were in an enemy's country the country of a people who had forced a war upon us and the Colonel had a couple of hundred people waiting to be fed. So we were fed amply, for the farm was amply stocked; and the order the officer left in the old Boer's hands in return for his curses was ample to recompense him for what had been forcibly taken.
Again that voice with the Scottish burr on every note: "Charge, Gordons! Charge!" and the dauntless Scotchman rushed on at the head of his fiery few. The Boer's heart is a brave heart, and he who calls them cowards lies; but never before had they faced so grim a charge, never before had they seen a torrent of steel advancing on their lines in front of a tornado of flesh and blood.
Quite plausible is Boer's explanation of the entrance of Attila into the legend. The "Thidreksaga" locates him in Seest in Westphalia. Now this province once bore the haute of "Hunaland", and by a natural confusion, because of the similarity of the names, "Huna" and "Huns", Attila, who is the chief representative of Hunnish power, was connected with the legend and located at Seest.
The captain turned sharply and gave my father a searching look; but he contented himself with nodding, and my brother snatched the rifles from where they lay across the Boer's knees, and rushed indoors with them. I knew well enough why, poor fellow: it was to hide the tears struggling to rise, and of which he was ashamed.
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