LETTER XXI

PRINSLOO’S SURRENDER—­II

August 4th.

We have been up the valley and back again, and I write this once more from Fouriesberg.  We passed through here, joining Rundle, as I told you a week ago, and pushed on eastward in the direction of Naawpoort Nek and the Golden Gate.  Six miles out from here, passing through a very rugged country, we came on their outposts.  These we shelled and drove back.  They then retired to some hills not very high, but with perpendicular sides of low white cliffs commanding the approach across the plain.  These they held till nightfall.  We shelled them a good deal and knocked out the only gun they had, and the infantry pushed forward in front and we took a hill on the right, but the attack was not pressed home, as it would have cost too many lives.  The infantry took the hill during the night, but found it evacuated, the Boers having retired as soon as it got dark.

We did not know all this time how things had gone with Macdonald and Bruce-Hamilton, and whether or not they had been able to block the eastern exits.  On this everything depended.  So it was with a feeling of the most gleeful satisfaction that we heard next morning, having followed the Boers up some two or three miles without seeing anything of them, the deep, heavy baying of a big gun in the distance, which we all recognised as the voice of one of the 5-inch cow-guns that had gone with Bruce-Hamilton.  It fired a few shots and then ceased.  With infinite toil, forty oxen to each gun, we then dragged our own two 5-inchers up the hill we were on, and got them into position for shelling the defiles ahead.  They were not, however, needed.  Messengers now began to arrive from the Boer laagers carrying white flags.  There was a lot of palaver.  These went, others came.  Le Gallais, our chief of the staff, interviewed them, while Hunter strolled a little way apart, dreamily admiring the view.  It was evident the Boer envoys were sticking out for terms which they couldn’t get.  I could see Le Gallais indicate the surroundings with summary gestures.  The Boers looked very glum.  They eyed the cow-guns especially with profound disgust.  These were looking particularly ridiculous.  The nose of one of them projected in the direction of those secret Boer-tenanted defiles as if the great creature were sniffing for its enemies in the distance; which gave it a very truculent and threatening air, as who should say, “Come now, Le Gallais, old fellow, suppose you let me put a word in,” while the other, hanging its head till its nose touched the very ground, seemed overcome, poor wretch, with a sudden fit of bashfulness, most absurd in so huge and warlike a monster.  The Boers looked from them to Le Gallais and from Le Gallais to them, but there was no more hope from one than the other, and at last they realised that there was nothing for it but to surrender, and surrender was