CAMPAIGN STORIES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XXXXII, Issue 196, 20 September 1900, Page 4

CAMPAIGN STORIES.

*——•——- A LESSON IN DUTCH, (A, G. Hales in the 2teiZ# News.) It is a bad thing to travel in a country during war time, even when you are familiar with its language, but it is far worse when you only know enough of the native tongue to make yourself tnisunderstoud. I have managed to get myself into some gorgeously picturesque situations on this account, and more than once have vowed to master the Boer dialect or wreck my talking apparatus in the attempt. It is not an easy language to learn. It is very like their kopjes, steep, rough, rocky and disjointed ; and, like the kopjes, you can't take it by storm, but must climb steadily and with patience, and make sure of one step before you venture on the next. It is a superb language to use when one is driving bullocks, or blacks; the. first sentence seems to roll off the lips like a malediction, and the second chops off short like the bark of a toy terrier. I should ask for no finer form of speech on earth if I wanted to curse mine enemy, but how on earth they manage to make love with it passes my comprehension. Still, I thought it might come in handy if only to frighten Australian horses; with, and kept c nstantly on the look-j out for a chance to learn and, verily, i my change came unto mo in duo season. I didu't loam tlio dialect, but I learnt something else, which nay prove equal \ nsi'l' ) in Inter life. V< u In"! | itched camp for a week, in order to allow the eve -dol'yiug pro-' vision convoys to catch \'p to us; so, • obtaining permission from head- j quarters. I saddled up and rode out to j do a little scout ng on my own account. ' .For I have iong since learnt that it's.l no use hanging around camp if you want to know anything about tho real life of the fo'k who dwell in the land. About six miles f i om our lines I ran against a dainty little farmhouso! cuddled : up against the slope of a shrubcovered kopje. On one side of the dwelling a trelliswork of vine* broke the wind, and on the other-a long, double row of orange trees beautified the scene. Tall, graceful poplar trees whisped in the wind at both front and rear, whilst a pretty flower garden, flagrant with flowers, spread far away in front of the substantial dwelling, I was admiring these things from my horse's back when it suddenly dawned upon me that I had possibly played the imbecile in-straying so far from camp. But it was too late to hang back. If the fanner-folk were friendlv, I was in luck; for the inside of such a dwelling could not be ill supplied with creature ! comforts. If, however, they were hostile, J was at thoir mercy. I had no desire to match my pony's pace • against the flight of a Mauser bullet; so humming a song and thinking of a psalm I rode forward as as if certain of a kindly welcome. An elderly Bor with a kitdly face mtt me at the door, and gave me the time of day with a'l civility, a nigger lad took hold of my brdh', and I swung myself out of the saddle juit in time to receive a civil gree ing from the farmer's wife, just t _ such a farmer's wife as one is apt to I, see in any pait of England, healthy, wholesome, substantial, well-fed, and well clothed. They invited me inside, and there their four daughters introduced themselves to me. They all ■ talked Eogl ; sh as well as I could, and before 1 had been there twenty seconds a I had arrived at the conclusion that I a should never get a better chance to study the language of the people of our , foes, and determined to sacrifice myself e upon the flinty shrine of duty. Three 8 of the maidens were plain-faced, j good, honest-looking girls, but the fourth had a face like a young r preacher's first public prayer. A face » that many a man would risk his life for. j So much of my whole career has been passed amidst the rougher and i more rugged scenes of life that a desscripcion of dainty womanhood comes awkwardly from me. But I have read ' so much about the ugliness and clumsiness of the Beer women in British journals that I should like to try and describe this daughter of the veldt, i although only a farmer's daughter. I do not know if she should be called 6hort or tall, but her cheek could have nestled comfortably on the shoulder of a fairly tall man. I don't know how E much hair she had, but there was , enough of it to make a fellow feel as if it didn't matter a rap if half the earth . was bald. It was not red, nor yellow; it was like honey kissed by sunshine. She had the sort of forehead which one never sees on the face of a fool, Nature's signboard for an emporium for brains, Her eyes were large, brown, and fear-1 less, not bold nor yet wavering. Her mouth was peifect, not one of those sepulchres which disfigure some feminine faces, not childishly small like a bud bursting into bloom, but a a strong, true mouth, large enough for a prayer to slip through, but not big enough to swear with. Hor waist would just about fid the crook of a strong man's arm, and make Iv'm feel that there was no room for anything else under heaven. The arch of her bust was like the curve on a wave as it breaks on the beach in the bay, not the stiff lath and plaster models one is so apt to tee walking round the streets of cities. Her hands were shapely, brown and strong, cracked a little by the wind and weather; not toy hands, but hands that could spank a baby, or help a husband back to paths of rectitude when all the world bad damned him past redemption. So she looked when I saw her, and I said unto my soul: Verily it is a good thing for a man to know something of his enemies' language, and I made up my mind to learn. It was the fifth evening after that, and I had registered my fifth visit to the farm, when an event befell which put an end to my studies in Dutch for the time being. I had dined with the farmer, the. plain sisters had made music for me, they had lifted up their voices in song also, for I was an honoured guest, having hi en enabled to do some little deed of kindness through "the favour of our courteous General to a relative of the ladies who was a prisoner in our lines. They had given me blankets and rugs for the poor beggar, and the General had handed them to the man. The night was a beautiful one, so lighting a cigar I rambled down towards the quarter-mile long avenue of. orange

trees; it was to be my Inst visit, for our troops were on the move fit dawn. As I sauntered forward I heard tho 1 rustle of a woman's skirts amidst the L bushes on my right, and looking in that direction I saw the navy blue dress and .i the red gold hair of the lady who had " been teaching me Dutch. I had not many seconds to look at her, but brief as the time was I had long enough to notice that one hand held the blue skirts switched up so that about a foot of white petticoat, was displayed. I also noticed that she was heading towards -| the orange walk, which I had long J since learned was known in the family l as " tho lovers' walk." She did not J look in my direction, did not turn towards me at all, but like many a another fool I puffed up in my folly. E What harm is there in it. I mused, '' if I take my last lesson in Dutch in the f shade of the orange trees. Tossing my a cigar away, I sauntered after the flying *■ figure, out of the flower garden, over ? the field, into the shady walk. I J meandered like a he-goat through a i gap in a hedge, I walked about fifty t yards, and saw no one, heard no one. l Then all at once I found myself looking right into the face of a big hairy savage, who wore a tweed coat and a bandolier full of cartridges; in his hands he t i cirried a handy little. Mauser car- s j bine. Well, Mr. Spy, said the hairy < individual, vou are my prisoner. I tried to smile, bu 1 . somehow tho ( springs in my face had got out of order, t and would not «ork. What did you ( want sneak ng after me for, you b astly ' lilnglishm ui, snared tho big man wi h the gun. I could have shot you last ' niyht, and the night before, and the | night before that, if I had liked ; but I 1 ; did not want to bring trouble on this . farm. What did you want to hunt mo 1 for? I found my tongue for a moment , ; then. "Hunt you be d ; didn't ' kiow such a chap existed." Ho lowered his carbine an inch or two. ' Then what the devil are you doing 1 in the lovers' walk ?" " What are you doing here ?" I 1 blurted. * We stared at each other liko two j grassfed calves in the starlight, and I edged a foot or two away from tho gun. | Just then I heard a patter of girlish 1 feet on the gravel bohind me, and turn- ' ing my head, saw one of the plain sisters hurrying towards up, aud almost ■ at the same fecond tho reddish-gold ' head of tho " beauty," tho head of the 1 giil who had been teaching me Dutch, 3 pa- sed from a patch of shadow into the * streak of starlight where the hairy, your g giant, was standing fondling his 1 gun. I saw her clasp his arm, ' heard her hurriedly whisper something 3 in Dutch, which caused the giant to 3 grin as if half his head ached to part ' company with the other half. The 3 beauty pointed towards me, and the ! plain sister, who had come to a halt 1 beside me. The plain girl put her f hand kindly on my shoulder, and whisp pered, " Don't you think it's too chilly ' out here ? 1 Chilly was ro name for it. I was as f cold as Klondyke, The sight of that * carbine in 'the starlight had taken all 1 the warmth out of the atmosphere as * far as I was concerned. I turned to 3 go, when a little hand touched mine. > The hidy who has been teaching me ' Dutch was at my side. " Before you i gentleman leave," she said, " I want ' you both to make a promi-e. You are 1 enemies now ; some day, when the war ' is over, you may be friends. But pros mise not to hurt each other by talking *■ of this meeting. Otto had no business } to come. Father had forbidden him l until the trouble ended with thß Britf ish." ' " I came out of love for you," grunted i the man with tho gun. 5 " And you came out of fondness for ' me," murmured the plain girl, her 3 voice shaking with laughter, that was 3 almost choking her. I muttered the biggest lie I had ever parted with. ' The hairy individual rested his gun ' against a tree, stepped forward, and ■ lifting his slouch hat to tho plain girl, ! said, " For your sake, I promise." 1 I lifted my helmet to tho " beauty," ' and said something similar. A few J minutes later, as I was buckling my 1 girths, I heard him galloping off t outhward to join Olivier's commando. As I swung up into the sadd'e, the plain sister slipped away, and the " beauty " [ lifted her hands in farewell. As our hands met, she said, " Why did you come to the lover's walk ?'" | "To get a last lesson in Dutch," I said, with a sleepish grin. " Well," she answered, " I hepe you'll remember your lesson," and I heard the two of them laughing as I 1 galloped out on che veldt. A. G. HALES,