OFF TO THE TRANSVAAL


When we reached Reitz, on our way to Bethlehem, another young
Transvaaler and myself obtained permission to try and reach the
Transvaal. The enemy's columns were traversing the intervening country
in all directions, but we determined that the attempt was worth making.
Bidding good-bye to our Free State colleagues, we left the little
village that was later to become famous as the scene of the capture of
the Free State Government, and retraced our way to Frankfort. The
send-off given us took the form of a little reunion in the parlour of
the modest hotel. Here there were gathered together some dozen young
Free Staters, and an impromptu smoking concert was held. Everyone
present was compelled to give a song or recite something. The first on
the programme was Byron's "When we two parted," which was sung with fine
effect by a blushing young burgher. Next came the old camp favourite,
"The Spanish Cavalier." The sentimental recollections induced by these
two songs were speedily dissipated by a rattling comic song in Dutch,
"_Op haar hot oog zit'n fratje_" A few recitations followed. One of the
reciters had just enunciated the lines--

"Within the circle of your incantation
No blight nor mildew falls,
No fierce unrest, nor lust, nor lost ambition,
Passes those airy walls"--

when a mocking voice came floating in at the window--

"Are you referring to Downing Street?" It was a captured British