Mafeking Road by Herman Charles Bosman Page A

it.
    There were more things like that in Annie’s letter. But I had no need of her advice. Our kommandant was a God-fearing and wily man, and he knew even better ways than Annie did for keeping out of range of the enemy’s fire.
    But Annie also said, at the end of her letter, that she and Martha Rossouw had gone to a witch-doctor. They had gone to find out about Neels Potgieter and me. Now, if I had been at home, I would not have permitted Annie to indulge in this nonsense.
    Especially as the witch-doctor said to her, “Yes, missus, I can see Baas Schalk Lourens. He will come back safe. He is very clever, Baas Schalk. He lies behind a big stone, with a dirty brown blanket pulled over his head. And he stays behind that stone until the fighting is finished – quite finished.”
    According to Annie’s letter, the witch-doctor told her a few other things about me, too. But I won’t bother to repeat them now. I think I have said enough to show you what sort of a scoundrel that old kaffir was. He not only took advantage of the credulity of a simple girl, but he also tried to be funny at the expense of a young man who was fighting for his country’s freedom.
    What was more, Annie said that she had recognised it was me right away, just from the kaffir’s description of that blanket.
    To Martha Roussouw the witch-doctor said, “Baas Neels
Potgieter will come back to you, missus, when the moepels are ripe again. At sun-under he will come.”
    That was all he said about Neels, and there wasn’t very much in that, anyway, seeing that Neels himself – except for the bit about the sunset – had made the very same prophecy the day the commando set out. I suppose that witch-doctor had been too busy thinking out foolish and spiteful things about me to be able to give any attention to Neels Potgieter’s affairs.
    But I didn’t mention Annie’s letter to Neels. He might have wanted to know more than I was willing to tell him. More, even, perhaps, than Martha was willing to tell him – Martha of the wild heart.
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    Then, at last, the war ended, and over the Transvaal the Vierkleur waved again. And the commandos went home by their different ways. And our leaders revived their old quarrels as to who should be president. And, everywhere, except for a number of lonely graves on hillside and vlakte, things were as they had been before Shepstone came.
    It was getting on towards evening when our small band rode over the bult again, and once more came to a halt at the veldkornet’s house. A messenger had been sent on in advance to announce our coming, and from far around the women and children and old men had gathered to welcome their victorious burghers back from the war. And there were tears in many eyes when we sang, “Hef, Burghers, Hef.”

    And the moepels were ripe and yellow on the trees.
    And in the dusk Neels Potgieter found Martha Rossouw and kissed her. At sundown, as the witch-doctor had said. But there was one important thing that the witch-doctor had not told. It was something that Neels Potgieter did not know, either, just then. And that was that Martha did not want him any more.

Bechuana Interlude

    When I last saw Lenie Venter – Oom Schalk Lourens said – she was sitting in the voorkamer of her parents’ farmhouse at Koedoesrand, drawing small circles on the blotting-paper. And I didn’t know whether I had to be sorry for Lenie. Or for Johnny de Clerk. Or for Gert Oosthuizen. Or perhaps for the kaffir schoolmaster at Ramoutsa.
    Of course, Lenie had learnt this trick of drawing circles from Johnny de Clerk, the young insurance agent. She had watched him, very intently, the first time he had called on Piet Venter. He had been in the Marico for some time, but this was his first visit to Koedoesrand. Johnny de Clerk looked very elegant, in his blue suit with the short jacket and the wide trousers, and while he sat with a lot of printed