t?" I'd
say. "Well, sir, I don't think it would be so bad. I would like one very
much." He would then settle himself down comfortably, light his pipe and
start to tell me all sorts of bits of news that had come his way. I often
had but a few minutes to give him and had to leave him in possession,
telling him to look after himself and be happy. Which he did.

He was well pleased with his job, looked a typical war correspondent
himself, and was making good money. I heard no more until, some months
later, I received a note from him from England telling me that he had
been taking a short holiday and was returning to South Africa. He was
joining a friend of his, Major Hunt, and they proposed to raise an
irregular corps on their arrival. The corps was raised, the "Bushveldt
Carabiniers." This corps had nothing whatever to do with Australia. Nor
could Morant himself lay any claim to being Australian. The corps was
raised from Colonials and British, chiefly out of a job, then in South
Africa. They appear to have had somewhat of a free hand in the operations
which marked the latter portion of the campaign. Drives were taking
place. Units were scattered, and to a certain extent had to be left to
their own devices. The Bushveldt Carabiniers occupied for some time a
wild region called The Splonken. While dealing with the Boers in that
locality Major Hunt had, so it was officially reported, been murdered by
the Boers, having been induced to approach a farm house on which a white
flag was flying. The story goes that he was found lying dead on the stoep
of the farm and that his body had been mutilated. Morant swore to avenge
his friend's untimely end--it was reported that he had become engaged to
Hunt's sister during his visit to England. He determined to give no
quarter, and several prisoners who fell into his hands were promptly shot
there and then. He and four other officers were, later on, in January,
1902, court-martialled on the charge of having personally committed or
been accessory to the murder of twelve Boers. The five were found guilty,
in different degrees. Handcock, Wilton and Morant were sentenced to
death, and Morant was shot at Pretoria.

I am in a position to give a short account of Morant's last hours. When
crossing over in the ss. _Surrey_ from South Australia a man called John
Morrow, who had been my groom for a couple of years in Adelaide, had
become a close friend of Morant's. It was difficult to say why.
Practi