Chapter IX

Charlotte did not arrive by mid-day as Andries had said she would; but a Kafir came in very early, bringing a letter which, I suppose, held some of Andries’ secrets, for he rode off with the Kafir, not telling me anything except that he would be back by sundown.

During his absence I tried to find out something more about this strange man, for I thought it my duty to know all I could of one who held my life in his hands as he did. Therefore I tried several drawers and boxes, but all were locked, showing great caution on his part. I satisfied myself, however, on one thing, which was that the farmhouse was not his, but belonged to one Wilson, who had deserted it early in the war, and it had been taken possession of by Andries, so that if anything went wrong, and the place were burned or looted, he would be none the worse off. I found this out by talking to the Kafir servants, one of whom had been working for Wilson. They had been warned by Andries to say nothing, but they were no match for me, who had had such experience in cross-examining lying witnesses who sought to hide the truth. But beyond this I found nothing that enlightened me as to this man, of whom I had a strange fear, yet wanted to trust, for he was a very slim and bold man, and I felt that whatever happened it would be better to have him for a friend than an enemy.

During the day two other Kafirs arrived at different times, but would say nothing to me about their business when they found that Andries was not at home. This made me admire the man more, for it is not every white man who can make Kafirs so loyal and clever as those about him seemed to be. These two boys had plainly travelled far, for they had their blankets and food with them, and I doubt not were some of the native runners who were carrying letters in and out of Ladysmith. Cleverer Kafirs I never met, for they pretended they knew neither English nor Taal, though afterwards I found they knew both well.

Andries came back before sundown, as he said he should, but before he said a word to me, he had long speech with the Kafirs, seeing each separately in his bedroom, but sitting with the door wide open, so that he could see if any one came near. When he had done his talking with them, he told me that he should not wait for Charlotte, but would ride with me to the laager early next day.

An hour after leaving the farm we saw a party of khaki scouts, and this made us lose time by riding out of their way several miles, so that it was nearly seven hours before we reached the laager. Not a man, not even a Kafir, was on sentry, and Andries and I rode to within fifty yards of the camp before we were noticed. Then one or two Burghers came idly up and asked me, “Where are the cattle?”

“Where is Paul du Plooy?” I asked.

“The scourging wind is being made into a calm,” answered Van der Murphy, who came up at the moment. “You will find him under his roof.”

I rode up to the place where Paul had made his rest —a thorn-bush covered with an old blanket. There sat the old man, with his legs tied to the trunk of the bush.

“What’s the meaning of this, Paul? What is the scourging wind doing?” I asked.

“The scourging wind has been abased by the hot blasts from hell,” answered he, sadly.

I got down and cut the rope, which had been passed through the prickly branches of the thorn so cleverly that he could not reach the ends to untie them, and the Burghers had taken away his knife.

“Sarel,” said he, rubbing his ankles, “you have all the sons of Belial in this laager.”

“But how came you here?”

“They tied me up because they hated righteousness.”

“That means you preached too much?”

“Ja; but I did more—I overturned the moneychangers’ tables.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sarel, even as the Pharisees of old sat at the receipt of custom, so have the Jews and Uitlanders from Johannesburg sat ever since you left, playing with three cards and spoiling our people, for they have now all the money of the oprecht Burghers, and those that have no money to pay have given ‘good-fors.’ Everybody lost except Van der Murphy, who fought them till they gave him his money back; and now he is one of them, and helped to tie me up. Man, but the lust of greed is over them all.”

When Paul had had some whisky he told Andries and me all that had happened since I left the laager; how, as soon as I had gone, the Jews and Johannesburgers brought out cards, and taught the young Burghers a game called “Seven up,” or “Under or Over Seven,” and “Find the Lady,” both of which I remembered through having to prosecute certain Johannesburgers at Prinsloosdorp for taking the money of the deacons of the Dutch Reformed Church during the Nachtmaal week. I was, therefore, not surprised to hear that when the young kerels had lost their money, the old Burghers who were looking on at the games got angry that the young ones were so stupid as not to be able to win when it was so easy, and showed them how it was done. In the end they lost their money also, and then blamed the young kerels for encouraging them to play. Some of them then went to Paul and asked him to stop the playing. This he tried to do; but as they took no notice, he upset the boards with his sjambok. On this the young kerels turned on him, saying he had prevented them getting their money back, as they were just beginning to regain some of their losses. The one who made the most outcry was Van der Murphy, who, having, as I have said, become one of the thieves, encouraged the young kerels to tie up Paul, as I had found him.

Andries laughed much as Paul told his shameful story.

“You see, Sarel, I knew better than you what was doing in the laager. It was time that I came to make the rough places smooth.”

“How many have been out after cattle?” I asked of Paul.

“None; they love cards better than work.”

“We thought you were bringing in the cattle,” said Van der Murphy, who was full of whisky.

“Ja; where is our cattle that Paul promised us?” asked several Burghers.

“Paul never promised you cattle,” I answered angrily.

“Ja, Sarel, I did,” said Paul hastily and sadly. “You see, when I upset their tables, much of the money was lost in the scramble, and they would have sjamboked me if I had not promised to make it good when you brought in the cattle. They took all the money I had, and made me pay back what I had received for appointing corporals to serve out stores.”

“Ah, and who is serving out stores now?” I asked.

Van der Murphy answered for Paul. “We don’t want any one to serve us; we serve ourselves. But there is little now left to serve. When do we get more?”

“Sarel,” said Andries, “Paul is right; you have all the sons of Belial in this laager. Let me show you how to tame them.” Then he added in a whisper, “Don’t look surprised at anything I do.”

He stood up on an ant-hill, and in his big voice called out, “Burghers, come for your loot-money.”

Within a minute every man in the laager was standing round us.

“Burghers,” said Andries, taking a big official envelope out of his breast-pocket, “I have certain money here which the State Treasurer has given me to pay to those to whom it is due, being their shares of the cattle-money.”

The Burghers crowded round us, and a pleased and hungry look came over their faces. Andries looked at a paper writing very deliberately.

“Jacobus Gert du Preez, sixty pounds,” he read out, and looked round the crowd. There was a silence, for the Burghers were puzzled, not quite understanding this thing; neither did I.

“Come forward, du Preez,” said Andries, taking from his satchel a big handful of bank-notes. Still no one answered.

“I don’t know any Burgher of that name in the commando,” said I.

‘Then, Paul Kestern, ninety-four pounds,’ Andries went on, again looking round, as if expecting some one to step forward; but no one did, and the Burghers looked still more dazed and puzzled. After waiting a minute Andries said—

“Burghers, it seems I have made a mistake in the commando. I am Andries Brink, assistant to the Treasurer-General of the Loot Fund, and I have over a thousand pounds here in notes and Government orders to pay to Burghers who have been sending in looted cattle. I was told I should find the commando about here, but it seems this is not the right one. But perhaps some of you may be fathers or brothers to Burghers in the other commando, and would take the money for them.”

“Have you anything for Patrick van der Murphy?” asked that wicked man.

“Is it Van der Murphy of Prinsloosdorp?” asked Andries with a very straight face.

“Ja, coos.”

‘Have you a brother named Mike Murphy, without the ‘van der’?”

“Ja, that’s he.”

“Then I have his name. Are you sure he is your brother?”

“Well, as he is not so much a Burgher as I am, I suppose he is now only my half-brother, but he used to be my full brother.”

“But have you full authority to act for him?” “Certainly; what’s his is mine, and what’s mine is his.”

“Right,” answered Andries; “then hand me over the two pounds he owes to the corporal of commissariat of his commando for whisky.”

This made all the Burghers laugh, and put them into good humour, which is a difficult thing to do with old Burghers on commando, and the man who can do it is sure of being held in high esteem. But the laughing of the Burghers made Pat angry, and it was some time before he got back his good temper sufficiently to say that there must be some mistake about the two pounds, as his brother was a teetotaller.

Then answered Andries, ever ready to turn speech in his own favour—

“You are right, Pat; there must be a mistake, if this brother of yours is a teetotaller. It is a pity, for I have five pounds for Mike Murphy, and it would have been twenty if he had not been too lazy to go out for cattle, but prefers to stay in laager and talk Irish and English politics. Anyhow, Pat, I will give you the money for him,” and he handed Van der Murphy a five-pound note.

At this the Burghers opened their eyes, for it is one thing to hear money talked of, but quite another to handle it; and this they did, passing the note from hand to hand. Then the Burghers began to follow the example of Van der Murphy and ask where the commando was, if So-and-so was entitled to money, and many others.

“Before I answer,” said Andries, “I will read through my complete list; and if any Burgher recognises a relation and will promise to give up the money to him when he sees him, I will hand over what may be due, for I cannot go riding all over Natal to look for a missing commando.”

Then he began to read names. There was great silence while eight or nine were read out, till he came to “Piet Coetzee, twenty pounds.”

Immediately a dozen Burghers shouted out, “He is my brother!” “My cousin!’ “My uncle!”—till there was a babel. But Andries kept quite cool while the storm lasted, and the Burghers quarrelled with each other for claiming relationship.

“Now, kerels,” said he, slowly counting out twenty sovereigns, “I cannot say which of you are the real relations of Piet Coetzee, but I do know you are oprecht Burghers, or you would not be in this commando. So I will give this twenty pounds to the Coetzees to keep for Piet; and if you have to give it up to him, you may keep five pounds for your trouble.”

The ten who claimed relationship with Piet Coetzee rushed forward, and Andries, with a great show of carefulness, asking many questions as to the exact relationship, gave each Coetzee two pounds.

“Now, kerels, hear what I have to say,” said Andries, and he made a speech that set the laager on fire. “I hear some of you say,” said he, ‘that you did not know about this looting fund. Of course not. How can a man expect to know what is going on, if he spends his time in playing cards and lying in the shade when his name is called for commando? Did not your commandant tell you when he was made commandant that.he was going on important duty, and would pick his men? If the General had made it known in all the laagers that Burghers were wanted to make money for themselves, not a man would have remained before Ladysmith. You are the chosen people. Commandant Sarel Erasmus chose you, and if you treat him kindly and do as he wishes, you will all go back rich in money or cattle, and perhaps both. Now, Burghers, throw away your cards and prepare to saddle up by sun-up to-morrow, for the good Lord is giving the enemy into your hands. A convoy of twenty waggons is on the road with only a small escort, and it is yours for the taking, if only you will do what Sarel tells you, for he has all the plans in his head. Will you be oprecht Burghers?”

“Ja!” they shouted in chorus.

“Then two days hence you will have twenty pounds a man. Now go; look to your horses, clean your rifles—which I see have been left to clean themselves, Think of the good things that are to come, and repent that you tied up the only man who tried to keep you from your evil ways.”

At this old Paul, who had been listening, came forward and began a speech; but the Burghers would have none of him, but called to Andries to go on, for they love to listen to men who can talk with a loose and quick tongue, as is seen by the way they were led astray by slippery tongues before the war; and Andries was clever above men with his, besides having a cheerful countenance.

Paul looked very disappointed that the Burghers would not hear him, but I whispered him to wait a bit, when Andries would get him a hearing; so, with much grumbling, Paul gave way, and Andries continued to speak.

He exhorted the Burghers to keep secret from any other Burghers they might meet the fact that they were making large sums of money, and, above all, he spoke good words for me, telling them I had planned hard to get this commando for their benefit, and altogether made it clear to them that they could do nothing without me, but everything with my help, which was the best reason why they should be kind to me.

I was so joyful that I could have kissed Andries, and made up my mind to do to him as he wished the Burghers to do to me, which goes to prove how even intelligent and educated men are won over by the flattery of a skilful dissembler such as Solomon warns against.

When he had done with me, this clever man gave Paul a good word that made the old man cry with

pride. ‘Said he, “I appoint Paul du Plooy to represent me, who represent the Government. He will keep account of all the cattle brought in, and I shall come to the laager to get that account and pay out the money, and to hear Paul’s report on those who have done the best, by which I mean those who have not set up their foolishness against the wisdom of those appointed to lead them. I have full authority in this matter from General Joubert, and if Paul or your commandant report any Burgher as unworthy, he shall have none of the money.”

As he spoke these words he took from his pocket a large official envelope and waved it; but I noticed that he did not offer to read it, neither did the Burghers ask him so to do; for when the glitter of gold is in the eyes of a Boer he can see no more than an owl in the sunshine.

“Now, Burghers,” said he in conclusion, “make ready for to-morrow, when you will, under the guidance of your commandant, put in the first seeds of what is going to be a bountiful harvest that will feed you and your children for the rest of your days.”

If Burghers had the custom of cheering, as have the Rooineks, they would have cheered loudly; but instead, they crowded round Andries, shook his hand, called him “Coos,’ and made much of him, till I got him away to my part of the laager, where the Kafir had made us some supper under a waggon. Andries being gone, they turned their praises on old Paul, shaking hands and making much of him, particularly those who had been against tying him up, as they had no money to play cards with. And they took him under the shade of a Cape-cart and begged him to read the Bible to them; which he did, not needing any pressing. He read nearly the whole book of Job, till those who had not slipped quietly away fell asleep over their pipes.

For the first time there was no trouble about sentries at night. It is true I heard high words from a few Burghers; but when I demanded, with great authority, to know what it was, they answered that the quarrel was that all wanted to go on watch.

When Andries and I were alone, which was not until we had let Paul make a long discourse and read a long chapter of prophecy, showing that it was right to spoil an enemy by taking his cattle, I said to Andries, “Is it right about the Burghers’ money?”

He laughed as he answered, “Sarel, money talks. That twenty pounds to those rascally Coetzees, and the fiver to that wild Irishman, talked louder than all the speeches ever made in the Raad.”

“But have you authority for paying, as you say you have?”

“Sarel, I have lived in the Transvaal, where the motto is, ‘Nothing for nothing, and very little for a shilling.” These Burghers are now satisfied that they are going to make money, for they have seen it paid out freely. Twenty pounds in their hands is worth twenty hundred in the Treasury. It is only the price of a couple of oxen, and for it we ought by this time to-morrow to have twenty spans of good oxen to our account, to say nothing of horses and stores.”

There was still much in this matter that was cloudy to my understanding, and I was resolved that I should know all that could be learned for the asking. So I said, ‘But about the money. Do the Government pay for oxen they capture?”

“Sarel, you must not try to learn too much at once. No trade is learned in a day. Look at that; feel it— count it,” and he threw me a big bundle of what appeared to be every kind of bank-note used in the country from Cape Town to Pretoria. ‘Is that money, or is it not?”

“It is,” said I.

“Then, you doubting Thomas, do you think it falls from the skies, or is brought by the ravens? No, I earn it, and some of it is yours if you are not a fool.”

“I fear that twenty pounds will not reach the Coetzee it belongs to,” said I, not knowing exactly what to say in the face of this great puzzle.

“So do I,’ answered Andries.

“Then why did you give it to them? Surely you know the Coetzees are a bad lot?”

“Sarel, you should have stayed in the laager and learned that little game with the three cards that cleaned out the Burghers. It is a great educator.”

All at once a great light filled my soul, and I saw clearly what before was strangely perplexing.

“Andries, you have salted a mine!” said I.

“Say rather treacled; that’s what they call it in the Transvaal. Treacle attracts flies, and, what is more, keeps them sticking where you want them.”

And then I saw the great skilfulness and wickedness of the man, and admired him more than was good for me.

“Andries, it is you who are commandant, not I,” I said in my joy and admiration.

“Exactly, Sarel. That is where brains are so useful. I do the thinking and planning, and you do the work and have some of the treacle. And now let me tell you another thing, for you have much to learn. You have got these Burghers tied to you by the strongest reim ever made—greed. I have tied them to you; do not loosen the knot. Keep away from them, and don’t talk much to them except about loot and money. To-morrow, before we start after these waggons, I will show you how to untie another kind of knot. You have too many sea-lawyers in this commando, Sarel.”

“Nay, Andries; I am the only lawyer, and I am only a law-agent.”

Andries laughed. ‘Ja; but there are other agents— agents for mischief. Are there not in the commando some great rascals who would do you harm, and of whom you would be glad to be rid?”

“There are such,” said I; “but I fear that now that they have smelt gold they will be like thirsty cattle at a water-hole—very hard to drive away.”

“Tell me their names,” said Andries.

I easily thought of many, but I told only about twenty.

“Now go over them again and tell me the worst of all these.”

I could not reduce them by more than five, and Andries wrote them down.

“Now tell me,” said he, “who among these are the slim kerels, for bad men are not to be feared if they have not brains.”

I could think of only two or three among them.

“That will not do, Sarel,” said Andries. “You are too short-sighted. It is not wisdom to deny cleverness in your enemy or to think that you are cleverer and slimmer than he. You have named all but the right ones. I have been in your commando only a few hours, but I know who are the slim kerels; so does Paul. Call him.”

“Paul,” said he, when the old man had sat down under the Cape-cart with difficulty because of his tallness, “I want the names of all the slim and wicked Burghers in the laager.”

“Write down the whole roll and you have them,” said he, “for they are the wickedest Burghers ever corrupted by Rooineks.”

“Nay, Paul, you are sore because they will not listen to your preaching. Tell me the names of those who would put you and Sarel out of the commando.”

“Put down every name except ——’ and here Paul gave the names of the six Burghers who had hypocritically asked him to read the Bible to them under the cart, although their names were among those I had given Andries as the worse.

After a long indaba Andries made out a list, Paul being most careful to see that the names of those who had mistreated him were on it. But Andries would have no advice or help from Paul, and made the list as he himself thought it should be, after he had heard what Paul and I had to say about each man. When at last it was finished it had but six names, and

L Andries added to it Pat van der Murphy, whom neither of us had given.

“But he is not wicked when he is away from the whisky,” said I. ‘You have left out the names of twenty men who are ten times wickeder than he.”

“Sarel, he is a Murphy by birth, and he has put a Hollander ‘van der’ in front of it. The two are bad enough by themselves, but when they are mixed they are dynamite. Now leave me here alone till I call you, and see that no Burgher comes near me for an hour. When I want you I will call you.”

When Andries called me it was to tell me to bring up Pat van der Murphy privately. I did so, and Andries being satisfied that no one was listening, said in a low voice, “Pat, I am going to do something to show how much we Afrikanders appreciate you Irishmen for helping us. You have heard me say I have a lot of money belonging to the Burghers, due to them when they bring in loot cattle. Now as I shall have to go to other commandos, and do not know when I shall be back, I am going to leave the money here. The Burghers will be told that their commandant has it. Now, Pat, you know there are scabby sheep in most flocks, and such may be here, and who knows but that the commandant may be robbed? Therefore I have selected you to carry it, and when you give the money up, you will have twenty pounds for yourself. Keep a still tongue, and let no one share your secret.”

Van der Murphy made a speech in which he said he was the only man in the commando fit to be trusted with the money, which, he said, showed how skilful a judge of good men Andries was; and he was going on to tell all sorts of things about the other Burghers, when Andries cut him short by taking a heap of notes from a big envelope and asking Pat to count one thousand pounds, which he did, taking a long time and making many mistakes.

When Pat at last said he was satisfied the count was right, Andries put the notes into a large envelope, sealed it, and gave it back to Van der Murphy, talking fast all the time, telling him what not to do and not to say. Suddenly he said, “Give it me back. I must tie it up. Pat, open that haversack behind you and give me a bit of string you will find there.”

I was about to do it, when Andries waved me back in a meaning manner.

After looking for some time, Pat said he could find no string.

“Never mind; stick this on the flap and write your name on it,” said Andries, giving Pat some gummed stamp-paper.

Van der Murphy did as directed, writing the words “One thousand pounds,” at the suggestion of Andries.

“Now,” said he, ‘I don’t want you to talk about this; so while it is fresh on your mind, saddle up and ride away towards Spion Kop for an hour; and if the Burghers want to know where you have been, say you have gone scouting,” and Pat went off with the parcel in his inside breast-pocket.

When he had gone from the laager Andries told me to call up Gert Coetzee, whose name was on the list of six, and to him Andries, to my surprise, made exactly the same speech as he had to Pat, going through the same business of bidding Gert look for string, and finding none, the envelope being sealed with stamp-paper and signed. Gert was also sent to ride, but in the opposite direction to Pat. Then came the remainder of the six, one at a time, and to each was made the same speech; each was bidden to search for the string that was not, and to each was given a sealed envelope in the same way, and instructions to ride off scouting, but all in different directions.

“Now, Sarel,” said Andries when the last had gone, “your sea-lawyers are all settled.”

I did not quite understand, but said, “Ja, that’s so,” for I did not wish that Andries should think I was slow at seeing through smart things, which usually I was not; but this man worked so strangely that there was no shame in any one, however well educated, not keeping pace with his cleverness.

Before we slept that night we had made full arrangements for the morrow. All the commando was to go excepting a guard of fifty that were to remain in the laager under Paul, whom I made acting commandant, which pleased the old man hugely, and suited me, for I did not want him with me to preach disaster at the most important event of my career. Andries also decided that Van der Murphy and the other rascals who had charge of the money should remain, he telling them each privately that it was too risky that they should go fighting; and with that arrangement they all readily agreed.