died as he had
lived. His relentless enemy Mr. Kruger, who was pulling the strings at
the other end, is still alive. Perhaps the old man may be spared to
see the end of the bloody drama; it was undoubtedly he and Mr. Rhodes
who played the leading parts in the prologue.

Which of these two "Big Men" took the greatest share in bringing about
the Disaster which has drenched South Africa with blood and draped it
in mourning, it would be improper for me at this period to suggest.
Mr. Rhodes has been summoned before a Higher Tribunal; Mr. Kruger has
still to come up for judgment before the people whose fate, and very
existence as a nation, are, at the time of writing, wavering in the
balance.

We have been at one another's throats, and for this we have to thank
our "statesmen." It is to be hoped that our leaders of the future will
attach more value to human lives, and that Boer and Briton will be
enabled to live amicably side by side.

A calm and statesmanlike government by men free from ambition and
racial rancour, by men of unblemished reputation, will be the only
means of pacifying South Africa and keeping South Africa pacified.

CHAPTER II.

AND THE WAR STORM BREAKS.

It was during a desultory discussion of an ordinary sessions of the
Second Volksraad, in which I represented Johannesburg, that one day in
September, 1899--to be precise, the afternoon of the 28th--the
messenger of the House came to me with a note, and whispered, "A
message from General Joubert, Sir; it is urgent, and the General says
it requires your immediate attention."

I broke the seal of the envelope with some trepidation. I guessed its
contents, and a few of my colleagues in the Chamber hung over me
almost speechless with excitement, whispering curiously, "Jong, is dit
fout?"--"Is this correct. Is it war?"

Everybody knew, of course, that we were in for a supreme crisis, that
the relations between Great Britain and our Republic were strained to
the bursting point, that bitter diplomatic notes had been exchanged
between the governments of the two countries for months past, and that
a collision, an armed collision, was sooner or later inevitable.

Being "Fighting-Commandant" of the Witwatersrand goldfields, and,
therefore, an officer of the Transvaal army, my movements on that day
excited great interest among my colleagues in the Chamber. After
reading General Joubert's note I said, as calmly as possible: "Yes,
the die is cast; I am