African Christmas
an excerpt

Chapter one:
Location: Hotel
Britstown, Cape Colony
Friday evening,
21 December 1900

Leaning against the closed door of the Britstown Carlton he knocked the thick mud from the bottom of his boots. Through the square panes of glass he could see that there was a trail of mud criss-crossing the floor from the soldiers that hadn’t bothered with the mud. To his right the room was quiet, he couldn’t even see the ample hostess who would spend the night wandering through the room ensuring that her customers were comfortable and well fed. Usually on a Friday night he would’ve expected to see families from the town sitting down to wholesome meals, steam lazily swirling around the room, infused with the aromas. The abundance of food was evident from the supplies from the surrounding farms.
Stepping into the Hotel, Robert Lees made his way across to the bar on his left. He knew well enough that there were a lot of towns or settlements that were suffering from lack of food. The bar counter stretched across the width of the room, from Robert’s left to his right. On the right side a group of soldiers were leaning on the counter eating from metal plates, their thick Irish accents hushed in conversation. A year ago if anyone had pointed out these dishevelled men and told him that they were soldiers fighting for Queen and country, he would’ve sworn at the person and threatened to punch them if they didn’t retract the statement. But now a year later the war, the harsh African terrain and the blistening sun had taken their toll on the soldiers.
“Lees,” the barman acknowledged Robert as he approached the bar, indicating to the left side of the bar, “I’ll be with you soon.”
Robert watched the soldiers eating and talking quietly as the barman finished filling their glasses of ale for each one of them. Smiling at the barman, Robert’s eyes followed him across the bar as he stopped and poured a stiff whiskey into a short glass and then topped it up from a jug of water. Before bringing the drink over, he opened a little book and made a pencil mark against his name.
“How are things going?” Robert asked before taking a small sip of the liquor.
“Good,” he nodded at the soldiers at the other end of the bar, “at least they have real money to spend.”
Robert smiled knowing that it took a lot of trust to get into a position before anyone could get a drink on tab with the barman of the Britstown Hotel. It helped that he was a member of the Cape Colony Police.
“By the way,” the barman said leaning across the bar counter and peering down at the soldiers at the far end to make sure that they weren’t paying them any attention, “have you heard anything about the Boers coming?”
Robert squinted his eyes and looked at the barman, looking for a hint of sarcasm or bad tasting humour. “You heard from my Sargeant?” he asked realising that he couldn’t see any evidence of humour or sarcasm.
“Nope,” he said leaning further across the counter, “but Mr. Steyn was in here a littler earlier looking for the R.M.”
“Mr. Steyn?” Robert took a sip of his drink, “I think I have heard that name before.”
“Hmm,” the barman said, “he’s down from Donkerhoek.”
“Donkerhoek,” he said working his Lancashire tongue around the Afrikaans name.
“Literally translated it means Dark corner,” the barman said lowering himself down onto his heels, “it’s down South, pretty close to Three Sisters.”
“The R.M.? What would be wanting Mr. Henry for?”
“More information about the Boers?” The barman shrugged his shoulders as the soldiers started from their end of the bar.
“Thanks,” Robert said quickly finishing his whiskey and shuddered as the liquor burnt a path down his throat and into his stomach. “I’m going to see if I can find the R.M. and find out what the hell is going on.”
“Sure thing,” the barman said stopping and looking back at him, “I hear he’s in the town to the west, at least that’s what the men were saying earlier,” he cocked his head towards the Irish soldiers that were starting to get more rowdy.

Closing the door behind him, Robert had one last look at the soldiers as they roared with laughter at something the barman said. Technically, he knew, that the Irish soldiers probably didn’t report directly to the Regimental Major, however since the town had been under Martial Law for the last five days, everyone basically reported in one way or the other to the R.M. Since the Sargeant and the two other Cape policemen had left a few days ago on orders to go and scout for any information on the Boers, Robert had been found himself reporting directly to the R.M., which wasn’t a pleasant situation to be in. He had spent far too much reporting to officers who didn’t have the first clue about organisation and war. It was different when he was back in Lanceshire, in Britian, there the officers seemed to be of a higher calibre, or so it seemed to him at any rate. Growling at himself, he shrugged off the thoughts as he strode down the pavement looking for the R.M. He kept forgetting how many of those same high calibre officers had turned into common thugs when they had been immersed into the war.

“Lees!” a voice boomed out of the night behind him.
Stopping he turned and looked to his right. He recognised the house that the R.M. was standing outside as that of Mr. Wagner. A good decent man. The candle light from Mr. Wagner’s house flickered in the windows causing a silhoutte to dance around the R.M.
“R.M.,” Robert acknowledged. “I hear that the Boers are coming?”
“Where did you hear that from?”
“Um,” Robert said, wondering if he was revealing confidential information.
“But you’re right,” he said taking his watch out of his pocket, “it’s true the Boers are coming. But not only that, our troops are coming too.”
“Our troops?”
“Yes,” the R.M. said pushing his watch back into his jacket pocket, “they are coming in from Houtkraal.” The R.M. tried to say the word a few times putting emphasis on various parts of the word. “Damn language...,” he eventually said.
“Yes R.M.,” Robert figured was the easiest way to go, “when are our troops going to get here?”
“Don’t know Lees,” shrugged before turning his back on Robert, “either one of them could get here first. I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“I need you to take two despatches for me, one to Mr. Swan who’s still on Dr. Small’s farm and the other to the officer commanding our troops.”
“Excuse me?” Robert walked past the R.M. and stood in front of him. “You just said that you have no idea who’s going to get here first. Now you want me to take two despatches into the Boer’s vicinity?”
“Look Lees,” the R.M. said stepping closer to him, “ if you don’t care to risk it, say so and I will try and find someone who would like to do it.”
“Excuse me?” Robert could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I am trying to get an understanding of what you want me to do and...”
“Okay, sorry, I just assumed th...”
“I understand only too well about duties and things that have to be done. What exactly do you want me to take?”
“Thank you Lees,” the R.M. said nodding in appreciation, “Get your rifle, your horse and meet me at the post office as soon as you can.”
“Certainly R.M.,” Robert turned and started to walk away before stopping and looking back at the R.M., “you know,” he said, “even though we’re under martial law you can order me around as much as you like. But I’ll tell you this, I am a police officer of the Cape Colony and my loyality lies with the people of Britstown and the Colony. Further more I will take your despatches and I will do my utmost best to ensure that they are delivered successfully to the O.C. and Mr. Swan.”
The R.M. seemed to shuffle uncomfortably in front of Robert, “thank you Lees.”

Chapter two:
Location : Post Office
Britstown
10:00pm

Robert put the empty glass down on the table and looked over the R.M. and the soldier he was standing over.
“Come on man,” the R.M. barked, “how long does it take you to be decipher two messages?”
“Nearly finished,” the soldier mumbled, “two more sentences and it’s done.”
Robert reached down and double checked his lace boots one more time. His Schimmel horse was tied up outside in the Post Office yard, along with his .303 rifle tucked into the back of his saddle.
“You know,” the R.M. said walking over and dropping into a seat across from Robert, “this whole Boer thing has me rattled.”
“How’s that?”
“Did you know that they had tried to come through Britstown a little while ago?”
Robert leant forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the wonky table. “Go on,” he said encouraging the R.M.
“About five days ago, must’ve been about the 16th, a column of Boers under the command of Judge Hertzog headed this way.”
“Good lord,” Robert squinted in the poor candle light to see if he could see any emotions on the R.M.’s face but the light was positioned so the soldier could work on the despatches, leaving the R.M.’s face in shadows.
“My information is not first hand, I heard the talk from some of the soldiers that arrived here recently. Look the only reason that I am telling you is that it’s not just a scouting party of Boer out there, there are a damn lot of them.” The R.M. turned and accepted the two leather pouches with the two separate despatches from the telegraph officer.

“One last thing Lees,” the R.M. said as he indicated the door to Robert. “I need you to do one last thing. When you get to the store in Houwater I want you to make a full list of everything that is there in the store. Actually if you can do that for all the farms you come from, that will be good too.”
“All the farms?” Robert stopped in the front door frame and turned to look at the R.M.
“Yes I know,” the R.M. said, “there are some farmers that are sympathetic to the causes of the Boer, but see what you can do. I know that Mr. Swan should be able to give you guidance on which farmers are still loyal and which may have turned.”
“I will do what I can,” Robert said.
“Thank you.” The R.M. touched Robert on the shoulder, “Lees, you know that there are some 5,000 acres of cultivated land in Houwater. That’s oats, hay, wheat, barley and mielies. And a hell of a lot of it too.”
Robert stopped again and looked at the R.M. This time his eyes were huge as he realised, “God, if the Boers get hold of that, it will be a feast for them.”
“I know.”
“You want me to destroy it,” Robert looked down at his dirty boots, “don’t you?”
“I’m sorry man,” the R.M. said, “but we need to burn the stuff to stop the Boer getting hold of it. I know that a lot of farmers are not going to be pleased about it, but people like Mr. Swan should be able to help you explain it to them.”

Settling into his hard leather saddle, Robert returned the R.M.’s salute.
“Good luck to you Lees,” he stepped back from the horse, “and try get back to me as soon as you can so that I can update De Aar.”
“Thank you and will do,” Robert pulled on the rein and guided the horse away from the Post Office. With the martial law in place the streets were deserted of any living soul, with the citizens back in their homes and the soldiers back in their make-shift camps.
Listening to the sound of the hooves from his eight year old horse as they walked steadily through the mud. Already he knew that this was going to be a ride that he was not going to be forgetting for a while, but then since he had been in South Africa, there were a lot of things that he wasn’t going to forget for a very long time.

Stopping at the edge of town, Robert pulled his horse up and took bearing of where he was. Although he hadn’t gone very far, atleast he knew that he was now out of the eyes of the people in the town and more importantly he was out of the light from the town. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness he realised that it would be dangerous to ride down the main road between Britstown and Prieska. On a normal day it would be the perfect route to take. However with the information that he had received from the R.M. there was a distint possiblity that Boers could be watching the road, watching for supplies they could ambush or riders taking despatches.
Taking a deep breath, he spurred the horse onward. It didn’t take him too long to get to a trail that he was comfortable with. He hadn’t taken the trail often, but his sargeant had taken him that way before when he had first arrived in Britstown. The trail would take him through the edge of a few farms until it brought him out by Gemsbok Dam. It wasn’t very big for a dam, he even doubted that it would feature on a map anywhere. Yet the farmers around the water used it for their cattle to drink.

One of the most important things that Robert knew about his horse was that it had been trained to operate quietly and to obey every instruction instantly. As he sat next to the bushes, he knew that the horses silence and obiedience was what had now saved his life.
From where he sat in the saddle, he could see patrol of Boer ahead of him. They had stopped at the dam and where offering their horses water. A few of them were quietly talking to one another in Afrikaans but since he couldn’t speak the language he had no idea what they were saying.
“Lees,” Robert nearly soiled him and only just managed to prevent himself from shouting out.
To his right a shadow stepped out of the bushes and snuck quietly towards him.
“God man,” Robert said just as quietly, “you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” the farmer said when he was standing next to Robert’s horse, “I didn’t want to do anything that would give you away to the Boer over there.”
“You know them?”
The farmer looked up at Robert. “For God’s sake Lees, just get away before they see you, at the moment they think that you’re one of their own.”
“But...”
“Listen these guys were talking about things picking up around here.”
“Picking up?”
“Yes,” the farmer said pressing himself closer into the flank of the horse, “they are saying that there was a major battle in the hills somewhere near Matjesfontein...”
“Where?”
“Never mind that Lees, the majority of your troops have been killed or captured” the farmer hissed at him, “just get the hell out of here, if those Boer realise who you really are they will shoot you and I won’t be able to stop them.” The farmer grabbed his boot by the stirrup and pointed behind him, “back there, there is a gap in the fence that they made. Use that to get out of here.”

Robert waited for the farmer to shrink back into the shadows. Keeping his eyes on the Boers at the dam, he quietly coaxed his horse towards where the farmer had pointed. The horse was trained to keep quiet when required. It didn’t take him too long to see the gap that had been cut through the fence by the Boers. Although he wanted to turn to look back at the Boers, he knew that it was too risky. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end.
Pulling the horse back, Robert easied the horse through the gap. As soon as he was satisfied that the wire was clear of the horse’s flesh, he spurred his boots into the gut of the horse. Still silent the horse burst forward through the dark farmers land. Lowering himself down to the neck of the horse he knew that he definitely had to get away from here as fast as his faithful hourse would carry him.
A thick accented voice shouted out through the night. Robert couldn’t understand the wording but the sounds immediately afterwards didn’t need any explaination. He was more than familiar with the sound of a bolt action on a rifle. Instant later the first rifle shot cut through the night. Spurring the horse on, Robert held his breath as he waited for the .303 round that would lodge into his back or rump.

Chapter three:
Location : Farming area
Houwater
About midnight

Robert pulled up his horse and ran his hands over his back feeling for the bullet holes. He couldn’t believe that there was no searing pain from the Boer Mauser bullets.
“God, this is not what I was expecting,” Robert muttered to himself.
Dropping from his saddle, he listened to the night noises to ensure that the Boer weren’t following him. It didn’t sound like they were.
Quietly walking his horse over to a tree, he tied it off and dropped
down to his haunches and tried to focus on the events of the night. Things were meant to have been a little easier, take two despatches out and get a list of supplies before destroying it all.
He had no idea where the town that the farmer was, and particularly had no idea what it’s relation was to the Houtkraal path. With tension of watching the group of Boer at the Gemsbok Dam and hoping that they didn’t hear the farmer speaking to him. Now he had to try and determine the name of where the Boer and the British had a battle. From what the R.M. had said to him before he left was that the troops were headed to Britstown along the Houtkraal path. It was highly probably that for the troops to get to the Houtkraal path they would have to either start out from Matjesfontein or pass the area at the very least. Confident that this analysis was correct, he realised that the despatch to the OC of the approaching troops was no longer a priority.
Standing up he knew that he had to be careful of the fences between the farms. If he didn’t pay attention to where he was going, he would ride straight into the fence and could either kill himself or his horse. One thing he was definite about was that going back onto the road would best the worst thing that he could do.

While listening out for any possible approaching Boers, Robert rode his horse at a slow enough pace so that he would be warned before riding into a farmer’s fence but quick enough so that he was continuely making ground away from the dam. Time and time again he turned his horse in a tight circle to stop him riding into a possible fence and specifically to see if it was a fence that he had seen. Even though the clouds were starting to thin out, the new moon meant that the night was still pitch black.
It was a number of turns of his horse before he finally found his first fence. Dropping out of the saddle Robert approached the fence using his hands to find the actual wires. It was about waist height and five strands of wire that was tauntly pulled between the fence posts.
It was far too dark to race the horse to the fence and then to jump over it. It had been years since he had learnt to jump a horse, it was something that he had been trained to do during the day when he could see the ground and the obstacle that needed to be jumped. Trying to jump that night was a sure recipe for failure.
Bending down he felt around the ground by the wire fence. He had no idea how he was going to get over the fence but he knew that he had to find a way. Suddenly his ankle twisted as he leant it onto of a rock. Reaching down he found a number of rocks scattered around on the ground. They were big ones, big enough for him to use on the wire.

Once he was happy that he had two rocks that would work with what he had planned. Moving closer to the fence, he held the larger rock against the length of wire. Squinting into the darkness he raised the other hand with the second rock in it. Bringing it down he missed the rock and hit his hand across the strand of wire. “Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself as the strand bit into the flesh part of his palm.
Listening to ensure that he hadn’t been heard, he once again lifted the rock and brought it down again. This time it connected the strand of wire above the other rock. Running his finger along the wire, he could feel that he had managed to have some affect on the wire. Taking a deep breath he lift the rock once again over his head and brought it down with all his force.
By the forth or fifth blow the wire gave way and twanged apart. One of the strands rolled back and dug into his jacket before slapping into the post. Using his fingers he could feel that his jacket was unscathed.
Bending over, he began to work on the second strand. After each swing from the upraised rock he stopped and waited to hear if he had attracted the Boers towards his position. Even if he had missed the rock and hit himself or missed all together, he still listened for the Boer.
Once he had broken through the last wire, he slipped the two rocks into his jacket pockets. He wasn’t sure how many farms there were between here and where he had to be, but there were definitely going to be some more fences that he needed to get through.

Robert didn’t want to take the risk of something happening to his horse. Even though there was no reason to go looking for the approaching columns anymore, he still needed to get the despatch to Mr. Swan.
Swinging up into his saddle he spurred his horse on towards the next fence that he would need cut his way through. At least the clouds were thin enough for him to take a bearing of his direction on the stars that were dimmly viewable.
Guiding the horse through the shadows of the land, he knew that he had to get to the Houwater farms to find out more about what was happening. It was uncomfortable that the Boer were so close. Sure everyone seemed to know that they were coming, but he now knew that they were here. Pulling up his horse at the next fence, he wondered how many of the farmers in the vicnity already knew that they were here?

Robert wasn’t sure how many fences he had cut through. His speed was good between the fences, but he knew that it was still very risky to get too confident of his progress. Besides his hands were starting to take a lot of damage from the missed blows to the wire strands.
He wasn’t sure at what point the noises finally slipped into his conscienceness. Standing next to his horse, he held up his hand against the horse’s bottom jaw, encouraging the horse to be silent. With his ears twitching to the sounds of the night, he finally identified the sounds. Small soft metallic clicks filtered through the night air. Sometimes he was the smallest things that gave soldiers away, especially ones like the Boer who were speciallists at a new type of warfare. His superiors had once called it guerilla warfare, something the British weren’t experienced at and needed to adapt to in a hurry.
Realising that they were heading towards him, he flipped himself up into his saddle and pulled the horse to the left. He knew that they were Boer and not British simply by the way the moved through the night.

By the time he found the main road to Houwater he realised that the Boers must have destroyed the fencing all along the road. Voices behind him spurred him into action. The Boer had heard him and started to give chase. Swinging the horse to his right he sped down the road towards Houwater.
The voices were now shouting something, something that he couldn’t understand. It didn’t make any diffence because the tone was not friendly. The worst was waiting for the shots to be fired from behind him. At least from experience he knew that it wasn’t easy to hit a moving target from a charging horse.
Suddenly his muscles tensed, they had been chasing him for a while now and they had now stopped chasing. He could hear them pulling the horses up. Still they were shouting and still he couldn’t understand. The shots couldn’t be too far behind. But they never came. Without pulling up on his horse he kept racing towards the farms.
Pulling up on his horse he knew that they had stopped chasing him. It was too dark for them to be able to take any shots at him. There must be another reason that they stopped chasing him. Perhaps they thought that they were being led into a trap or something. Perhaps he was the one that was riding deeper into the spider’s web and they just didn’t want to see the ending.

Chapter four:
Location : Dr. Small’s farm
Houwater
Saturday morning, 01:50am
22 December 1900

Robert pulled his horse into a tight circle. Rubbing his hand along his horse’s neck, he could feel the sweat from the hard ride that they had experienced. Down the end of the drive-way he could see the Doctor’s house. If memory served him correctly, the doctor was in either Prieska or De Aar getting further supplies.
From where he had stopped he could see that there was some light flickering in the house. He couldn’t see any groups of horses around or hear them, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t around. In the Imperial Yeomanry they used the third man who held the horses. This allowed the remaining three in the foursome to take the battle to the enemy on foot and if things went wrong then they could get back to their horses again. It was better than finding the horses spooked and running around the battle field.
Taking a deep breathe he edged his horse forward. Approaching the house he slowed the horse and again took another look around the surrounding area. The little hairs on the back of his neck were sticking up but there wasn’t any reason that he could find.

After tying up his horse Robert carefully approached the front door. Standing on the porch he wondered if he should go back to the horse and retrieve his rifle. Stepping up to the door, he slammed his fist against the door, “Swan,” he shouted out, “are you in? It’s Lees of the police here with a message.”
Robert couldn’t hide the smile when he heard the familiar sound of the hammer being pulled back on Swan’s Webley revolver. Of all the people in Britstown, Swan was probably the person that he knew the best.
As the front door swung open, Robert begun to relax a little for the first time in the evening. Through the crack he saw the light from the lamps shine through the rooms. For the first time he saw the glint of metal shining in the light. His heart ran cold as he realised that directly behind Swan was a rifle. With the door swinging open further he noticed the glint from a further two rifles behind Swan. With his eyes still focussed on the rifles, he noticed that the three men behind Swan were all wearing Khaki.

“I swear,” a woman’s voice said from deeper in the house, “my heart nearly stopped when you banged on the door!”
“You better come in,” Swan said stepping back into the house, “and I will introduce you.”
Robert knocked the mud off his boots and stepped into the house. He hadn’t been in Dr. Small’s house before. Stepping into the house he looked at the three men that were standing deeper in the room. A woman was standing off to one side.
“These three men are from Nesbitts Horse,” Swan said.
The one standing closer to Swan’s back spoke first, “C Squadron, under Captain McMullin.”
“Nesbitts?” Robert said, “based in Prieska?”
“That’s the one,” the man said, “I’m Davies and these two are the Bayliss brothers.”
“Lees,” Robert said introducing himself, “Cape Colony Police. What brings you to this place?”
“This, by the way,” Davies said, “is Mrs. Varley a nurse.”
“Lees,” a slightly familiar voice greeted from the shadows.
“Mr. Goldswain?”
“It’s a long story,” Swan said, “you’d better come through.”

Standing in the small kitchen Robert accepted the steaming cup of coffee in the metal mug. The three soldiers look tired from their trek around the country side with first the prisoner and then with the Medical nurse. Listening to their story it was first a trip with a prisoner from Prieska to Deelfontein. In his mind he tried to plot the route they would’ve taken from Prieska. They could’ve easily have skipped passed Britstown as they headed for the main road that cut through De Aar and then turning south through De Pot towards Deelfontein.
“Deelfontein,” Robert put his cup down on the kitchen table, “the last I heard that was a hospital for the Imperial Yoemanry?”
“True,” Davies said. Between the three soldiers they explained to Robert how the hospital had started to also take in Boer prisoners. It was hard to follow the three soldiers as they took turns from one another with their stories.
Mrs. Varley was standing to one side going through her bag, once again, to ensure that she had all the nursing things that she could possibly need. She was definitely different to the woman that were usually found in Britstown. He allowed the conversation to flow between the men as he walked over to Mrs. Varley. All he had manage to find out about the young lady was that she was from Dublin.
“Lees,” Swan said getting his attention, “did you catch that about the Brak river?”
“River?” he said looking at each of the soldiers in turn. “I heard that it was threatening to burst its banks with all the rain we’ve been having.”
“That is the understatement of the year,” one of the Bayliss brothers said, “there is no way that we could cross it with Mrs. Varley.”
“Hell,” the other brother piped up, “even without Mrs. Varley there is no way that we would cross the rover on our own.”
“So what we going to do now,” Mr. Goldswain asked from the other side of the kitchen. It was a good question, one he had been thinking about since he had heard that troops weren’t coming any more.

The men stood outside in the cold looking at Robert.
“You sure about this Lees,” Mr. Goldswain asked, “you realise that this will have an affect on us around here too.”
“Definitely,” Swan replied instead, “it’s good military sense. We did it the last time too, because it’s too difficult for us to take with us, you have to ensure that the enemy can’t get to the supplies either.”
“But..”
“I know that you don’t think that badly of the Boers,” Swan said turning and looking at the farmer, “but trust me I know how people react in a time of war.”
“I still don’t know,” Mr. Goldswain said, “but you guys seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Right,” Robert said, “I have poured kerosene to help get the flames moving through the crops.”
“You know how long it took to build the barn?”
“I am sure,” Robert said looking at Mr. Goldswain, “trust me I don’t enjoy doing this anymore than you would. But like Swan said, people have do to lousy things in war. Besides we don’t have the man power to move it into the fields nor do we know when the Boers will arrive.”
They stood quietly off to one side, down wind, and watched the flames as they licked through the different crops that were stored in the barn.

“What now,” Mr. Goldswain turned to Robert, “what are you going to do now?”
“Not sure,” Robert turned and looked at Swan, “initially I was only asked to deliver the two despatches and destroy the stock. Based on what I know now, I don’t have to deliver the second despatch.”
“You going back to Britstown?”
Robert looked up at the still dark skies. “I’ve already run into Boers twice tonight. I would prefer not to go out there in case I encounter them again. I am not sure how many times I can try and dodge bullets before I run out of luck.”
“I know what you mean,” Swan said.
“I think that perhaps I should look to return in the morning. The R.M. definitely needs to be updated so that a message can be sent back to De Aar. I will also be able to give information about the nurse and Nesbitts Horse soldiers.”
“Sounds good,” Davies said, “let’s see what we can achieve if we pull our resources in the meantime.”
In the light of the fire, Robert looked at the group of people that were standing around him. The three soldiers looked like they could look after themselves and have good value. Mrs. Varley would always be useful to have around with her medical knowledge, even though she was only a nurse. Mr. Goldswain was an older farmer in the area and had some good knowledge of the surrounding area. Swan was a little different. He had known Swan from just after he had arrived in Britstown as a Policeman.
There were things about Swan that he didn’t know but that he had started to workout. There was definitely military experience there and not just a soldier’s experience either. Officer material definitely. And he should know as he had spent enough time as a non-commissioned officer to recognise it.
“Okay,” Robert said looking at Swan, “Let’s go back to the kitchen and see what we can do. Do me a favour Swan, can you organise some boys to go out into the hills and keep an eye out for us?”
“Agreed,” one of the brothers said, “it would embarrassing if the Boers managed to sneak up on us.”

Chapter five:
Location : Mr. Swan’s farm
Houwater
Saturday morning, 04:40am
22 December 1900

“Lees,” one of the brothers called from the front porch window, “you better come here.”
Putting his knife and fork down on his plate, he excused himself from the table. Breakfast had been an unexpected pleasure that Mr. Goldswain and Mrs. Varley had cooked up soon after they had arrived at Swan’s house.
“What do you see?”
The brother pointed out into the farmland. “One of the farmer boys are racing back.”
Feeling his heart pumping, Robert walked outside onto the porch and waited for the boy to pull up the horse.
“Boss,” he said, “there are three Boers coming over the hills.”
“Thanks,” Robert said, “you can go back to your family.”

Standing on the porch, they watched the boy race away from the farmhouse.
“Now what?” Mrs. Varley asked wringing her hands together.
“How many did he say were coming,” Davies asked.
“Three,” Swan said.
“Good, we out number them,” one of the brothers said.
“Yes,” the other brother said, “it will be good to finally see some action.”
Robert and Swan looked at each other.
“You haven’t seen action yet,” Robert asked.
“No,” Davies said, “you see the thing is...”
“Never mind that now,” Swan said looking around at the group. “Lees and I haven’t got the time to train you in combat.”
“We’ve been trained,” Davies said spreading his chest in front of Swan.
“Enough man,” Robert said raising his voice a little and realising it was time to start to put his foot down.
“Here, listen...”
“I said enough,” Robert knew his voice now carried the unspoken message for them not to challenge him.
“Right,” Swan said, “what do we know.”
“The river is too harsh to cross,” Mr. Goldswain offered.
“So we stand?”
“We stand,” Robert said, “you three need to listen carefully to Swan.” Turning to Mrs. Varley and Mr. Goldswain, “You two need to move to one of the rooms which is more secure.”
“But,” Mrs. Varley started to say.
“Lees,” Swan called him from the window, “where is that damn glass of yours?”
Robert walked over to his kit that he had brought into the house earlier in the morning. Picking up the looking glass he passed it over to Swan. “What do you see?”
Swan extended the glass to its full length. “Dammit man,” he passed the glass over to Robert, “those aren’t Boers!”

Robert stood on the porch watching the sun rising in the east as the three riders slowly approached the house. The clouds were still too think to allow the power of the African sun to come shining through. The ground was still muddy from the rain.
“You sure it’s him,” Swan said quietly next to Robert.
“Of course,” Robert said, “I haven’t my sergeant for a while, but it’s definitely him.”
“Where’s he been?” Davies asked, “it looks like he has been riding for a while though.”
“Hmm,” he said, “along with two of our other policemen they went to see if they could find out more information about the Boers.”
“Okay,” Davies said, “I’ll go see if we can organise them something to eat and drink.”

“Lees,” the sergeant said kicking the mud off his boots, “what brings you out this part of the world?”
“Long story,” it felt good to his sergeant and colleagues again, “but what about you, you see anything out there?”
“No,” the two other policemen shook his hand before the sergeant continued, “the only thing we saw was the smoke from this part of the world and we came over to see if it was the handy work of the Boers.”
“No,” Robert laughed, “this time it’s at the hands of us. Come in and get something warm to eat and drink and I will introduce you to the rest of our little band. At the same time I will bring you up to date on what’s been happening.”

The sergeant pushed his empty plate away from himself, “thank you ma’am, that was the best breakfast I have had in a very long time.”
After picking something from his teeth, he paused as he studied the intrusive culprit. “So Lees,” he finally said, “you and your group have certainly been up to quite a bit. But tell me, what exactly is your plan now?”
“That’s a good question Sergeant,” Robert stood up straighter from leaning against the kitchen counter, “I am planning to return to Britstown so that I can update the R.M. on the situation. I need to specifically tell him that I haven’t been able to deliver the second despatch.”
“I agree,” the sergeant said, “It’s important that they understand that there are no troops heading over.”
“Some questions for you Lees,” the sergeant continued, “do you think that the Boers that you saw were on reconnaissance, stragglers or parts of a larger force?”
“I thought about,” Robert said after a little pause, “I am thinking that this could be the start of things to come.”
“Alright, let’s get you saddled so that you can get back to Britstown.”
Robert watched the sergeant and the two other police get his horse ready for him. “Lees,” the sergeant came and stood next to him, “it’s ten now, you should be in Britstown by about one.”
“Correct,” Robert said.
“Good,” the sergeant said, “we’ll take care of things around here, get these people to safe places and then we’ll also come through. I suspect that we’ll either be there later tonight or early tomorrow morning.”
“Good Ser...”