up to him full measure and brimming over. The men roar with laughter, and
pelt him with crusts of rusks, but the women and girls make his life an
agony for the time being. They smile at him sweetly, and ask him if he
feels lonely without a cart, or they pull up a handful of grass and offer
it to him on the end of a stick, making a lot of "stage aside" remarks
concerning the length of his ears the while, until the fellow's face
crimsons with shame.

They are wonderfully patriotic, these Boer girls and women, and are
merciless in their contempt for a man who will not do his share of
fighting, marching, and watching cheerfully and uncomplainingly. The
hardships and privations they themselves undergo without murmuring, in
order to assist their husbands, brothers, and lovers, is worthy of being
chronicled in the pages of history, for they are the Spartans of the
nineteenth century. They are swift to help those who need help, but
unsparing with their scorn for those who are unworthy. The treatment meted
out to the grumbler and mischief-maker usually presents more of the
elements of comedy than anything else, and it is his own fault if he does
not get off lightly. But if he cuts up rough, tries to strike or kick his
drivers or tormentors, or if he goes in for a course of sulks, and flops
himself down, refusing to be driven, then the comic element disappears from
the scene. Out come the sjamboks, and he is treated precisely as a vicious
or sulky horse would be treated under similar circumstances. As a rule, it
does not take long to bring a man of that kind to his proper senses. Should
he talk of deserting or of avenging himself later on, he is watched, and a
deserter soon learns that a rifle bullet can travel faster than he can. As
for revenge, the sooner he forgets desires or designs of that kind the
better for his own health.

For minor offences, such as laziness, neglecting to keep the rifle clean