He walked briskly to the house to fetch a basket and disappeared into the vineyard, returning shortly with a plentiful supply of luscious grapes.

"Thank you, Jim. Enough for a week!" Hansie laughed, and he looked pleased as he went off in the direction of the river.

A few moments later, half concealed by the shrubs and rank gra.s.s with which the lower part of Harmony was overrun, Hansie noticed two stooping figures in khaki, moving forward cautiously and then making sudden dashes at some object, invisible to the girl. She watched them intently, wondering who the intruders were and what their game could be, until they came so near that she was able to distinguish what it was they nourished in their hands. b.u.t.terfly nets!

A pair of harmless Tommies, spending their Sunday morning in catching b.u.t.terflies and the other insects of which there abounded so large a variety at that time of the year.

They did not catch sight of the girl until Carlo sprang up barking furiously, and then they started back in consternation and surprise.

"Lie down, Carlo," Hansie commanded sharply. "Good morning," to the men.

"Good morning, miss," respectfully; "I hope we are not intrudin'."

"Certainly not. Are you catching b.u.t.terflies? Show me what you have got."

The men produced their spoil with pride.

"Will you have some grapes?" Hansie asked, handing the basket to one of them, who helped himself gratefully and then pa.s.sed it on to his comrade. The latter, evidently not of a very sociable disposition, took a bunch and walked off in pursuit of more b.u.t.terflies.

The first soldier, however, squatted down on the ground at some little distance from the girl and began to talk, as he ate the grapes with great relish. At this point Carlo raised himself with the utmost deliberation, yawned, stretched himself, and sauntering (I cannot call it anything except _sauntering_) slowly towards his mistress, laid his full length on the ground between her and the Tommy. Then he went sound asleep to all appearances, but his mistress observed that when the soldier made the slightest movement, the dog's ears twitched or an eyelid quivered.

Slowly eating his grapes, the man glanced curiously at the book on Hansie's lap.

"Are you sketchin', miss?" he asked.

"No; writing."

"Poetry?"

There was no answer.

"I am one of Lord Kitchener's body-guard," he went on presently. "We are encamped near Berea Park on the other side of your fence. We were in Middelburg last week and I saw one of the Boer Generals, General Botha."

Hansie's heart bounded. She looked at the man incredulously.

"Indeed! How was that possible?"

"Quite simple, miss. Lord Kitchener invited the General into town to have an interview with him. His brother--I think his name is Christian--came with him. I acted as their orderly."

"Tell me more, tell me everything," the girl's voice shook with ill-controlled emotion.

"There were five or six other men with them. They arrived at about nine in the morning and stayed until half-past four that afternoon.

They had lunch with Lord Kitchener. A fine man the General is, well set up, big and broad-shouldered."

"Yes, I know." Hansie _could not_ withhold those words.

"You know!" he exclaimed in great surprise. "Do _you_ know General Botha?"

"Yes, indeed. And what is more, he is _my_ General."

The soldier looked at her in ludicrous amazement.

"Are you a Boer? You don't look like one, and I never heard any one speak better English."

"I don't know whether what you are saying is meant as a compliment to me, but I don't like being told that I don't look like a Boer, and I certainly would not be pleased if you took me for an Englishwoman."

The poor Tommy looked troubled and muttered something about "no offence meant, I am sure."

"Now please go on and tell me more about the General. Did you hear anything of what he said to Lord Kitchener?"

"Nothing, miss, except when he went away. They shook hands very hearty-like and the General said, 'Good-bye; I hope you will have good luck.' That was all."

"Good luck! What do you think he could have meant?"

"We don't know, miss, but we think he meant good luck in Natal, for Lord Kitchener went yesterday and I hear there is some talk of peace."

Hansie sat silent for a long time, turning these things over in her mind.

"But what is all this accursed war about, miss? We soldiers know nothing except that we have to fight when we are ordered to do so."

"Of course you know nothing. An English soldier is nothing but a fighting machine, not allowed to think or act for himself. Discipline is a grand thing, but Heaven protect a man from the discipline of the British army. The war? I will tell you if you want to know. The war is a cruel and unjust attempt to rob us of our rich and independent land, and England is the tool in base and unscrupulous hands. You suffer too, I know, and all my heart goes out in sympathy to the bereaved and broken-hearted Englishwomen across the seas. Their only comfort is their firm belief that their heroes died a n.o.ble death for freedom and justice. Did they but know the truth! They died to satisfy the l.u.s.t for gain and greed of gold of mining magnates on the Rand."

"Suffer, miss! As long as I live I will not forget that march from the colony, through Bloemfontein to Pretoria. Fighting nearly every day and marching at least thirty miles a day, on _one biscuit_. There was no water to be had! Will you believe that for three days not a drop of water pa.s.sed my lips? And I heard the other fellows say, not once, but a thousand times, 'Would to G.o.d that a bullet find me before night!'

Our tongues were hanging from our mouths and our lips were cracked----"

"Stop!" Hansie cried, putting her hands to her ears. "I do not want to hear another word. These things cannot be helped, and your officers suffered too!"

"The officers! When at last the water-carts came, we had to stand aside and watch while bucketsful were being carried into the tents for their _baths_!"

There was silence again.

"If I were an English soldier, I would run away," Hansie said.

"I've had enough, G.o.d knows, and when I get home I mean to leave the Army and take up my old work--carpentering. The war can't last very long. England is mighty--but I wish the bloomin' capitalists would come and do the fighting, if they want this country and its gold-mines."

"There are only a 'few marauding bands' left, so the English say,"

Hansie answered bitterly. "But remember what I tell you now. South Africa will be soaked in blood and tears, and a hundred thousand hearts will be broken here and in your country, before the mighty British Army has subdued those 'few marauding bands.'"

The soldier's face grew troubled once again.

It was a good, strong face--a patient face--and it bore the marks of much suffering, endured in silence and alone.

He rose and took off his cap.

"You've been very good to me, miss. I wish I could be of some use to you."

"Run away from Lord Kitchener!" she said, laughing. "I would be very sorry indeed if you fell by the hand of one of my brothers."