Hansie is bending over her diary, trying to make her entries between the crashes with which the house is shaken.

Her mother is lying on a couch near by; her tired eyes are closed, but she is not asleep. Who could sleep in such a storm?

Perhaps we may be allowed to look over the writer's shoulder.

"Nov. 8th, Friday, 10 o'clock p.m.

"And this terrific storm has been raging for hours! It seems incredible.

"It was the same last night and the night before. As I write, the roar of thunder never once breaks off, peal after peal, crash after crash, vivid, dazzling flashes of lightning, torrents of rain mixed with hail, and a howling wind.

"Such a night is never to be forgotten.

"One is thrilled and impressed by its magnificence, by its awful grandeur and its majesty, and yet I think one would go mad if it continued for any length of time.

"I feel as if _I_ am going mad with the thought of our thousands and thousands of women and tender little children exposed to all this fury....

"Where is the G.o.d of pity to-night?

"Surely not in our desolate land, not in our ruined homes--_not in South Africa_!

"The fourth storm within a few hours, each more violent than the last, is just approaching, and this one threatens to surpa.s.s the others in unabated fury.

"The Lord hath turned His face from us.

"The hand of the Lord is laid heavily upon us. His ear is deaf to our cries and supplications. I cannot write, my soul is crushed by the sorrow, suffering, and sin around me....

"I feel better now, but the struggle has been great....

"At the front, fierce blows have been struck lately. Our men are fighting as they never fought before....

"How the storm rages on! In my sheltered home, safe from the fury of the elements, I think I suffer more than the women under canvas, for _their_ sakes....

"The letter I have before me must be answered now. He asks me to bind myself to him definitely....

"I have decided to do so. It is a weighty step, and G.o.d knows....

"But I have long prayed for guidance, and it seems to me clear enough that we are destined for one another.

"So to-night, in this raging storm, with a heart filled with the desolation of land and people, the blackness of the present, the hopeless misery of the future, I am going to write the words which will bind me for ever to L.E.B.

"Strange betrothal! Strange sequel to a stormy life!

"But perhaps--perhaps, the future holds something for me of calm and peace...."

With throbbing brow she went out into the night to watch the storm, from a sheltered corner under the verandah.

Nothing fascinated her so much.

Suddenly a blinding flash, accompanied by a sound like the sharp cracking of a whip and instantly followed by a deafening roar of thunder, drove her to her mother's side.

"Are you all right, mother? That bolt fell very near. I thought it struck the house."

"It was frightfully close," Mrs. van Warmelo answered.

"Come and sit beside me here. I am quite sure one of our big trees has been struck."

She was right, for walking through the demolished garden next morning, they came upon the spot where the bolt had fallen and found one of the gigantic willow trees furrowed from top to bottom, with the outer bark scorched and curled up like paper and the white bark showing underneath.

Jim was breaking down his little kitchen with all the speed he could.

"What are you doing, Jim?" Hansie asked.

"Jim's shifting," was the answer, soberly and sadly made.

"But the storm is over. All the danger is past. You can safely stay on now."

"No fear, little missie. The Big Baas was very cross last night, and when Him cross He don't care what He do. Jim want to live a little longer."

Hansie laughed.

"I wonder where Mauser could have been with her kittens last night!"

she exclaimed, putting her hand into the deep hollow of the tree. "The nest is empty. Do you know, Jim?"

"No, little Missie. I 'spose Mauser's time had not come yet," he said, with stolid philosophy.

"I suppose not."

But alas, alas! Mauser's time was soon to come, for the soldiers, setting a strong trap to catch a wild cat which was nightly plundering them of their meat ration, caught Hansie's beloved Mauser instead, killing her instantly.

No reproaches from her mother were added to her keen remorse as she bent over the motherless kittens, whispering: "_I_ will care for you, as _she_ would have done; but oh, remember this, that honesty is the best policy, and all is _not_ fair in love and war."

Tragedy was in the air.

A bee-keeper came to Harmony one morning to help Mrs. van Warmelo to take out honey from the hives, and this disturbance, combined with the fact that the soldiers had unwisely set up a smithy near the beehives under the row of blue-gum trees dividing their camp from Harmony, enraged the bees so much with the noise and the smoke and heat of the smithy fires, that they attacked man and beast in vicious fury.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE APIARY, HARMONY.]

In a few moments all was confusion.

The servants rushed about frantically, in their endeavours to bring the fowls and calves under shelter in time.

The two women took refuge in the house, closing the doors and windows, while they watched the consternation and disorder in the camp.

Fortunately there was only one horse in the smithy at the time, a beautiful chestnut mare belonging to the Provost-Marshal, Major Poore, so Mrs. van Warmelo was told afterwards.

The soldiers seemed to lose their heads entirely. They ran away, not into their tents, but right away into the "koppies" on the other side of the railway line.