The bee-keeper cut the halter with which the unfortunate horse was tethered to a post, then he too took refuge.
What followed was pitiful to behold and will never be forgotten by the women, helplessly, and as if fascinated by the scene, watching from their windows.
The infuriated bees, deprived of all other living things on which to wreak their vengeance, turned, in their thousands, on the hapless mare, which stood unmoved, as horses do, when lashed by hail or panic-stricken under flames.
She made no attempt to save herself, but with bent head and ears laid flat she stood still under the furious attack of countless bees.
One or two of the men, wrapped up to the eyes in the coats and waistcoats of their comrades, cautiously approached the mare at their own great peril, and tried with all their strength to move her from the scene.
In vain. As if rooted to the spot she stood, with her four feet planted firmly on the ground, and they desisted in despair, once more fleeing to the hills.
All day they sat upon the hillside, homeless, many of them hatless, until towards afternoon, when, the fury of the bees abating, they ventured a return to their tents.
The next day, when the dead mare had been removed for burial, a letter was brought to Mrs. van Warmelo from the Provost-Marshal, commanding the immediate removal of the beehives to some safer spot in the lower portion of Harmony.
This was done by degrees, little by little every night, in order to accustom the bees to the change gradually, and there was never any repet.i.tion of the attack.
Hansie, writing to her brother in his prison-fort at Ahmednagar, that his bees had put a valuable English horse out of action for ever, received in reply a postcard, with the single comment, "My brave bees!"
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
THE FIRST SPIES AT HARMONY
As we have said, the Committee of women had decided on Harmony as the only safe spot for harbouring Captain Naude on his next visit. It was still hemmed in by troops on every side, and, as the weeks went by, and the van Warmelos became _more_ convinced that their name had not been betrayed with those of the Secret Committee, they settled down with a sense of peaceful security and prepared themselves once more for the reception of their friends.
Their wonderful "escape" was a topic of daily conversation, and they congratulated themselves over and over again with not even having been approached by the military and put on their best behaviour.
No promises had been given by them, and they felt free as the birds of the air to continue their work of outwitting the enemy, whenever occasion presented itself. But occasions were rare now.
As far as was known, there was no longer a spot in the fencework around Pretoria through which a spy could enter un.o.bserved, and no word or sign had been received from the brave Captain for more than three months. By this they knew that he had been informed of the calamities which had befallen his friends in town.
Still they doubted not that he would at least make an attempt to come in again. His friends remembered his once having said that his keen enjoyment of the perils he underwent was only enhanced by the obstacles which lay in his way, and when the English thought they had made it quite impossible for any man to cross their lines, it would be his greatest pleasure to prove how much mistaken they were.
There was no vain boasting in the quiet and natural way in which he made these remarks, and they were remembered with a strong conviction that he would keep his word. But still it was realised that his greatest difficulty would not be so much his entrance into the town as his perplexity when once he found himself there.
He would not know where to go. His friends had been banished, their houses were occupied by the enemy, and as yet he did not know of the existence of the new Committee. Sending out word to him was impossible.
No man could risk the unknown dangers of leaving the town under the present conditions to warn him; no one would know where to find the Secret Service Corps in the field. His friends decided to possess their souls in patience, trusting in the capabilities of the wily Captain and knowing full well that if any one could find a way out, or in, he would.
He did not disappoint them, and they might have known that on this occasion everything he did would be exactly opposed to his former methods.
It was to be a time of surprises for every one.
Hansie and her mother were just talking about the Captain and regretting the appearance of the young moon--which meant under ordinary circ.u.mstances, _no_ spies in town--and wondering how much longer they would be able to endure their suspense--wondering, too, how they would communicate with the Commander in future and longing for reliable news from the field--when the unexpected happened.
At break of day December 17th three travellers entered the town, travel-stained, torn, and weary. They walked boldly through the streets of Pretoria in the dim light of a summer's dawn, and what their destination was we shall see presently.
The van Warmelos were having supper that night at 8 o'clock when the door opened unceremoniously and Flippie's shock head was thrust in.
"There are two ladies looking for Harmony," he said. "They are at the front gate and want to see you."
Hansie immediately went out and met two girls, strangers to her, coming up the garden-path.
"Good evening," she said. "Do you wish to see my mother?"
"Who are you?" was the somewhat unexpected but perfectly natural question.
"I am Miss van Warmelo. Do you want any one here?"
"Yes," one of them replied in a hurried and mysterious way. "There are two men at your garden gate and they want to see Mrs. van Warmelo."
"Won't you ask them to come up to the house?" Hansie asked. "You can't very well expect my mother to----"
"Oh yes, she must," the other broke in hurriedly; "it is all right--she knows them. They will tell her themselves what they want."
"Wait here a moment. I will call my mother."
Hansie had some trouble in persuading her mother to leave the house.
"I am not going down to the gate to see any men," she said. "Let them come up to me."
"They won't, mother. It is no use. There is something behind this.
They are either our own spies or the English are setting a trap for us. Be on your guard, but come out into the garden."
Sorely against her will Mrs. van Warmelo hurried out of the house, where she gave the girls a cool and haughty reception, saying:
"I don't understand this. Will you be good enough to ask your friends to come up to my house if they wish to speak to me?" And with that she turned back to the house alone.
Girl No. 1 said, "I think I had better go and fetch them, they are waiting near the wire fence," and walked rapidly down the path, while Hansie followed slowly with girl No. 2, asking many questions, but getting none but the most unsatisfactory replies.
When they reached the gate, girl No. 1 had disappeared altogether and there was no sign of the men. Hansie thought this very suspicious, and was about to turn to her companion with an impatient remark, when she suddenly said something about going to look for girl No. 1 and disappeared too, leaving Hansie standing alone at the gate with her troubled reflections.
Men and girls had now disappeared for good it seemed, and, after what seemed an endless time of waiting, she decided to go back to the house, when she was suddenly joined by her mother, now thoroughly alarmed.
"It must be a trap, dear mother," she whispered. "I can't make it out.
Ah, here is some one coming at last"--but then her heart stood still, for a tall English officer, with helmet on and armed to the teeth, advanced, saluting the two ladies in the pale light of the young moon.
"Naude," he whispered, stretching out his hands to them.
Captain Naude in an English officer's uniform! Thank G.o.d, thank G.o.d!
In a moment all was happy confusion.
The Captain introduced his corporal, Venter, warmly took leave of girls No. 1 and 2, thanking them gratefully for services rendered by them that night, and then the four people sauntered up to the house, talking loudly as they pa.s.sed the sergeant-major's tin "villa" on the other side of the fence.