A KIND-HEARTED VROW.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 535, 22 January 1913, Page 7

A KIND-HEARTED VROW.

I enlistrd In the Yeomanry during the Boer War, ani when my regiment sailed i'or South Africa, en accident detained me at ths Curragh, and I followed a month later attached to the Bedford \ Regi:nent. On disembarking, we were ordered to proceed to a small ■ place named Hoopstadt in the Orange S.tate. Hero,, for four miserable months, we were blockaded by,the Boers, who were in considerable force around the place. Our friends the enemy made no attempt in the way of a They hung ab ( out constantly, and sniped our camp in a way that was irritating in the extreme. All our endeavours to communicate with head-

quarters were in vain, as every messenger we sent or white-

was either captured or shot. We could only wait with patience for relief.

We were fed on bully-beef and biscuits, and our souls yearned for a change of diet, as only those who have eaten that precious menu can yearn.

One line afternoon, as. there were no Boars in sight, I suggested to a brother yeoman the idea of riding out to forage. In defiance of regulations we slipped out o£ camp and made for a farmhouse some three ,or four miles away. The; only pert on in the place was a Boer lady ,of immense bulk, who at Crst was much alarmed at seeing us. I could speak Taal fairly well, aid I assured our hostess of our- peaceful intentions. All we was grub that was not bully-beef. She smiled, and, opening the oven, produced a couple of chickens done to a turn. It did not occur to us to ask why this repast was ready. We fell to, and soon reduced those birds to a collection of bones. It was the meal of our life. The fat frau seemed much pleased to Watch us, but, all the time she seemed anxious, and occasionally looked out of the door. Suddenly she started up and rushed out of the house with an agility truly surprising in cna so bulky. Peering round the doorway I saw, some fifty yards away, a big, black-bearded; Boer with a rifle pointed . onr way. The old lady flung herself en him

like a sack' of flour. / She clutched his weapon and shouted an Assurance that we were good boys—,wc had done her no harm, and she would not have us'hurt. Then she screamed to us to mount and depart, which we did with promptitude. As we rode away I expected, every moment to hear the ping of < that Mauser, but, thanks to our guardian angel, nothing happened, and we got safely back to camp.'; It was a near thing and commonsense dictated that one visit was quite enough ; but ths memory of those chickens overcame all feelings of prudence, and a week later saw us again at the farmhouse, where the fat frail greeted us most affsctionate-i ly. She said the interrupter of our last meeting was Commandant Z—, something] unpronounceable, an j. he had sworn to shoot us at our next merry meeting. This time we alsc had rifles, and nothing would have been more to my. taste than to have disarmed Mr. Commandanti, and then discuss things in general wi' h him ' in the fashion invented by ths late Mr. Thomas Cribb. We had to wait while t'.ie c'aickcns were cooked this time, and a sharp look-out was ke;pt against surprise Wh'ile we fed the frau did a 'o t of sentry-go outside, but happily nothing happened. The. good old Dutch woman positively refused to accept any payment for our entertainment, and, when we left she kissed us both,, and; with tears coursing 'down her cheeks, blessed us, and prayed Gol to watch oyer us, that we might soon return safely to our mothers. A week later we were relieved, and L never again saw the dear old soul who treated us so kindly.