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of the landmarks, and is fewensberg through a pass that the Boers had vet rekked in this stoutest Voortrekker deemed direction. there came a ime when Smeer had to confess that he had lost is bearings. and advised a hait of a iav while he rode ahead to soy out the lay of the land. He returned next day with satisfaction writ large on his other vise inexpressive face, and announced a heroic resolve. He had is covered the track, but to reach it one of two things had to be done either they must retrace their weary way some twenty miles, or the waggon must be tied up and lowered from the edge of the high plateau where they had halted into the valley below.

mpregnable. To him the lowering of a waggon five hundred feet down a slope, which he described as smooth as the roof of a house, was child's play.

When the plan was explained to Wilmot he stood aghast. The side of the hill it was proposed to launch the waggon down sloped at an angle varying between thirty-five and fortyfive degrees. It was largely covered with grass, but the many gullies, projecting ridges, and huge boulders seemed to offer insuperable obstacles. To an Englishman the proposal appeared madness; but the craft of a Boer transport rider is a thing of marvel, that may only be witnessed and described by those whose probity and character stand assured. Johannes Smeer had ridden transport in the days when Kimberley was young, and the rates stood at thirty shillings the hundredweight, and were not too high. This same old waggon had bumped up the Gibraltar, from which the Devil's Kantoor looks down on Barberton, and Smeer had steered it across the Drak

Wiimot watched with fascinated interest the process of making the wheels immovable with strips of raw-hide called reims-the veld-man's rope.— twine, and wire combined; helped to remove some of the smailer articles that could not be thoroughly secured; and with beating heart saw the oxen taken out and the heavy waggon directed sideways over the cliff. It ran for twenty yards with its own momentum, then brought up in a hollow. Al hands ran to the rescue, laid a course diagonally down the side, and another space was cleared. The next lap was finished on the top of a boulder, and much labour and ingenuity were needed to bring the waggon into position for the next run; but half an hour's work did it, and then began a series of slides, some smooth and gentle, others a succession of shocks, bumps, and threats of capsize. Again and again Wilmot saw the unwieldy mass dashing on to destruction on a boulder; but a skilful deflection of the pole or disselboom, that stood out like a bowsprit or outrigger, had the effect of a touch on the tiller of a sailing boat, and steered the craft into smooth water. Within an hour the waggon was awaiting the arrival of the oxen, which had been taken down by a track

that required as careful negotiation as that of the waggon.

The climbing of difficult hills was a sight Wilmot could not endure, because of the suffering inflicted upon the patient, meek-eyed oxen. Frequently a couple of hours would be expended in getting the waggon up a hundred yards of steep incline by a process of zigzagging that would have been easy but for the process of turning the sixty yards of oxen on the trek chain: more than half the load had to be removed before the ascent could be attempted, and laboriously dragged up piece by piece. But the new track discovered by Smeer got gradually better, and the time- and temper-exhausting mountaineering became less frequent.

Occasionally Wilmot and Hartley rode off the track a few miles to put up a buck or bustard and guinea fowl, that relieved the monotony of the eternal tinned meats. But Hartley was not in favour of these excursions: he was fearful of encountering some wandering party of Boers, whose suspicions might be excited and cause delay, while they communicated with the district field-cornet. Hartley had thoughtfully provided himself with a prospector's licence in proper form; but it was more than probable that the fieldcornet would not be able to read it, and would insist on his right to prevent progress until an interpreter had been found. The Johannesburg papers had lately recorded cases of travellers being detained many days

until their documents had been verified, and with all his courage Hartley feared the consequences of having his name brought prominently under the notice of Boer officialdom. It had taken too great an interest in him of late.

On the tenth day of the trek the expected happened. They came upon an elderly Boer who, with his family and cattle, was trekking to his winter farm. His waggon was outspanned a few miles to the right, on the road that Hartley would have been travelling, but that it led through a dorp he was anxious to avoid.

The Boer pulled up fifty yards from the party, and sat in the saddle reconnoitring. After a time he cautiously advanced, announced that he was Van Enter of the Ermelo district, and put the customary questions to the travellers. Smeer acted as spokesman.

Instead of allaying suspicion, the old man's presence had the opposite effect. Van Enter could understand a party of ignorant Rooineks travelling off the road, but it puzzled him to find such a blunder made by a Boer like Johannes Smeer, and with Afrikander directness he put his suspicion into words. With tactless bluntness Smeer confessed that the Rooinek had chosen the route, as he did not want to pass through dorps.

Hartley heard the foolish statement, and drew on his resourcefulness promptly.

"I have gone off the road to find the elandsboontje [elands

of the landmarks, and as few Boers had yet trekked in this direction, there came a time when Smeer had to confess that he had lost his bearings, and advised a halt of a day while he rode ahead to spy out the lay of the land. He returned next day with satisfaction writ large on his otherwise inexpressive face, and announced a heroic resolve. He had discovered the track, but to reach it one of two things had to be done either they must retrace their weary way some twenty miles, or the waggon must be tied up and lowered from the edge of the high plateau where they had halted into the valley below.

When the plan was explained to Wilmot he stood aghast. The side of the hill it was proposed to launch the waggon down sloped at an angle varying between thirty-five and fortyfive degrees. It was largely covered with grass, but the many gullies, projecting ridges, and huge boulders seemed to offer insuperable obstacles. To an Englishman the proposal appeared madness; but the craft of a Boer transport rider is a thing of marvel, that may only be witnessed and described by those whose probity and character stand assured. Johannes Smeer had ridden transport in the days when Kimberley was young, and the rates stood at thirty shillings the hundredweight, and were not too high. This same old waggon had bumped up the Gibraltar, from which the Devil's Kantoor looks down on Barberton, and Smeer had steered it across the Drak

ensberg through a pass that the stoutest Voortrekker deemed impregnable. To him the lowering of a waggon five hundred feet down a slope, which he described as smooth as the roof of a house, was child's play.

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Wilmot watched with fascinated interest the process of making the wheels immovable with strips of raw-hide called reims, the veld-man's rope,twine, and wire combined; helped to remove some of the smaller articles that could not be thoroughly secured; and with beating heart saw the oxen taken out and the heavy waggon directed sideways over the cliff. It ran for twenty yards with its own momentum, then brought up in a hollow. All hands ran to the rescue, laid a course diagonally down the side, and another space was cleared. The next lap was finished on the top of a boulder, and much labour and ingenuity were needed to bring the waggon into position for the next run; but half an hour's work did it, and then began a series of slides, some smooth and gentle, others a succession of shocks, bumps, and threats of capsize. Again and again. Wilmot saw the unwieldy mass dashing on to destruction on a boulder; but a skilful deflection of the pole or disselboom, that stood out like a bowsprit or outrigger, had the effect of a touch on the tiller of a sailing boat, and steered the craft into smooth water. Within an hour the waggon was awaiting the arrival of the oxen, which had been taken down by a track

that required as careful negotiation as that of the waggon.

The climbing of difficult hills was a sight Wilmot could not endure, because of the suffering inflicted upon the patient, meek-eyed oxen. Frequently a couple of hours would be expended in getting the waggon up a hundred yards of steep incline by a process of zigzagging that would have been easy but for the process of turning the sixty yards of oxen on the trek chain: more than half the load had to be removed before the ascent could be attempted, and laboriously dragged up piece by piece. But the new track discovered by Smeer got gradually better, and the time- and temper-exhausting mountaineering became less frequent.

Occasionally Wilmot and Hartley rode off the track a few miles to put up a buck or bustard and guinea - fowl, that relieved the monotony of the eternal tinned meats. But Hartley was not in favour of these excursions: he was fearful of encountering some wandering party of Boers, whose suspicions might be excited and cause delay, while they communicated with the district field-cornet. Hartley had thoughtfully provided himself with a prospector's licence in proper form; but it was more than probable that the fieldcornet would not be able to read it, and would insist on his right to prevent progress until an interpreter had been found. The Johannesburg papers had lately recorded cases of travellers being detained many days

until their documents had been verified, and with all his courage Hartley feared the consequences of having his name brought prominently under the notice of Boer officialdom. It had taken too great an interest in him of late.

On the tenth day of the trek the expected happened. They came upon an elderly Boer who, with his family and cattle, was trekking to his winter farm. His waggon was outspanned a few miles to the right, on the road that Hartley would have been travelling, but that it led through a dorp he was anxious to avoid.

The Boer pulled up fifty yards from the party, and sat in the saddle in the saddle reconnoitring. After a time he cautiously advanced, announced that he was Van Enter of the Ermelo district, and put the customary questions to the travellers. Smeer acted as spokesman.

Instead of allaying suspicion, the old man's presence had the opposite effect. Van Enter could understand a party of ignorant Rooineks travelling off the road, but it puzzled him to find such a blunder made by a Boer like Johannes Smeer, and with Afrikander directness he put his suspicion into words. With tactless bluntness Smeer confessed that the Rooinek had chosen the route, as he did not want to pass through dorps.

Hartley heard the foolish statement, and drew on his resourcefulness promptly.

"I have gone off the road to find the elandsboontje [elands

bean]. I have an Irish doctor with me who makes good medi

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"He is only just come into the land."

cine out of it for my sickness.' "Did he, then, come with Van Enter grew interested. Jameson?" Next to the Predikant, the Boer respects the doctor, and is often more willing to hear of a new physic than of a cure by faith and prayer.

"Have you seen any elandsboontje?" Hartley went on, well knowing that the plant was very rare in that region. "We have been told that there is a kind hereabouts worth all the others."

Van Enter was completely bluffed. He came up to the waggon, which had stopped, shook hands with grave respect with Wilmot the Irish doctor, accepted a soupie of brandy, and entered into general conversation. All the time he was eyeing the gear. "What is that?" at last he asked.

Hartley told the story made to fit the load.

"Whose farm are you going to prospect?" was the next question.

Hartley was not prepared for this, and mentioned a name haphazard.

Van Enter was puzzled. He knew, he said, every Boer in the district mentioned, but had never heard of Eckbout.

"He is in Pretoria. He went to fight Jameson," Hartley explained.

"What were you doing when Jameson came in?" was the next embarrassing question.

"Prospecting on the East

Rand."

"And your friend the doctor, where was he?"

Hartley laughed. "Did I not say he was an Irishman?" Van Enter was silenced. After a pause he inquired whether the doctor would ride over to the waggon and see his vrouw, who had been sick for many months.

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Hartley answered that nothing would make the doctor happier, and in low tones he explained the situation Wilmot. It had been arranged beforehand that he was in emergency to play such a rôle. An Irishman was not a schelm Rooinek in Boer esteem, and if he were, his medical qualifications atoned.

Van Enter rode off to prepare his wife for the visit, while Wilmot got ready the physic, without which academic qualifications counted for nothing. He made up a big bottleful of a harmless liquid compounded of liquorice, cayenne pepper, Worcester sauce, and salt. It contained all the external essentials of good physic, being black, thick, and nauseous, and, doubtless, equally efficacious for internal and external application.

Hartley and Wilmot rode over after their oxen had been outspanned and the midday meal disposed of. They found the usual multitudinous family of barefooted children, as healthy as dirty, who for the most part dodged the ceremony of handshaking, probably in awe of the doctor and his art. Mrs Van Enter, fat and ponder

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