True reconciliation is the foundation on which the structure of a united South Africa shall be raised.  Without reconciliation there can be no co-operation, and South Africa will be in the future what it has been in the past—­a land of strife and discord.  Adhere to a policy of severity and the gulf between Dutch and English will grow deeper and deeper as the years roll by.  There will be another Ireland, instead of a land where “peace and rest for ever dwell.”

CHAPTER XI.

WAR INCIDENTS.

Notwithstanding the horror and depression which must necessarily keep step with the campaigner, death staring him in the face throughout the campaign, yet the burgher endeavoured to show a cheerful countenance.  In this he succeeded to a surprising degree.  It is a characteristic of the Boer that he can meet frowning fortune with a smile or at least a shrug of the shoulders.  He found that his best policy was to forget the reverse of yesterday.  Flying to-day before the enemy, to-morrow he will rally, and charge that same foe with almost irresistible determination.

In this, the last chapter, we want to dwell not on the tragic aspects of the war, but on its lighter side.  Gradually we learnt to be more conscious of the amusing than of the sad scenes of the battlefield.  Months of fighting, if they had hardened our natures, had yet left us the power of laughter.

The South African War was rich in incidents that tended to lighten our burdens.  Hardly a day passed by without something happening, either on the battlefield or in the camp, which caused us amusement.  The burghers, in spite of looks and behaviour, had a keen sense of humour.  Even when we were so hotly pressed that there was often no pause made for a meal, a joke in the saddle was relished in the place of food.  In little groups, too, round the camp fires we would beguile the long evenings of winter nights by relating our personal adventures.  We will record a few of these, acquired from personal experience or overheard at such gatherings.

Moving in the Reddersburg district, we camped for a night at a dam which contained a small quantity of water.  The next morning the burghers, discovering that there were fish in the pool, but having no fishing-hooks, undressed and began to convert the water into a muddy mass, thus compelling the fish to come to the surface for air.  While still engaged in this impromptu fishing, with bodies mud-covered from top to toe, they heard the cry “Opzaal! opzaal!  Khakis near by.”  So near was the enemy that they could not afford to lose a minute.  As there was neither clean water nor time to wash off the mud, they were obliged to jump into their clothes, besmeared as they were with mud.  It was an amusing sight to see them running to their clothes, black as negroes, and, regardless of the mud, dressing as quickly as they could.  Some of them had a very narrow escape, and not before sunset could they take another bath.