TCHMAN'S SISTER

"The days are so long, and there are so many of them."
DU MAURIER.

During the weeks I remained at Mosita, the only book I had to read was
"Trilby," which I perused many times, and the lament of the heroine in
the line quoted above seemed to re-echo my sentiments. For days and days
we were absolutely without news. It is impossible after a lapse of time
to realize exactly what that short sentence really means. I must ask my
readers to remember that we talked and thought of one topic only; we
looked incessantly in the one direction by which messengers might come.
Our nerves were so strained that, did we but see one of the natives
running across the yard, or hear them conversing in louder tones than
usual, we at once thought there must be news, and jumped up from any
occupation with which we were trying to beguile the time, only to sink
back on our chairs again disappointed. As for knowing what was passing
in the world, one might as well have been in another planet. We saw no
papers, and there was not much prospect of obtaining any. Before the war
we had all talked lightly of wires being cut and railway-lines pulled
up, but, in truth, I do not think anyone realized what these two
calamities really meant. My only comfort was the reflection that, no
matter how hard they were fighting in Mafeking, they could not be
suffering the terrible boredom that we were enduring. To such an extent
in this monotony did I lose the count of time, that I had to look in the
almanack to be able to say, in Biblical language, "The evening and the
morning were the sixth day."

At length one evening, when we were sitting on the stoep after supper,
we descried a rider approaching on a very tired horse. Rushing to the
gate, we were handed letters from Mafeking. It can be imagined how we
devoured them. They told of three determined attacks on the town on the
third day after I had left, all successfully repulsed, and of a
bombardment on the following Monday. The latter had been somewhat of a
farce, and had done no damage, except to one or two buildings which, by
an irony of fate, included the Dutch church and hotel and the convent.
The shells were of such poor quality that they were incapable of any
explosive force whatever.[26] After nine hours' bombardment, although
some narrow escapes were recorded, the only casualties were one chicken
killed and one dog wounded. An emissary