The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-06-08
By P. Y. BLACK.
fcOprrieht. laoo. bu P. Y. Rlack.l


of the heart. l do not know that the
of my wealthiest friend
would have more lightened my spirit
and more quickly have dressed my
face in smiles than did the presence
on the roadside of that wandering ex-
trooper of the Bechuanaland border
police. He reclined. with an assured
ease and a possession of confidence
which. on that lonely veldt. 80 miles
from an inn in a stranger peopled
country, rejoiced me as with the near
ness of home. A dwarfed tree afford
ed him shade, nearly dried up pan
was not far Off His blanket was
thrown beside him, and a billy of a
convenient size reposed between the
extended military breeches.
Doubtless an extra sincerity was af-
forded to my cordial greeting by the
dainty vapors which arose from that
billy as | drew near. A hot mouthful
prevented him from doing more in the
way of invitation than waving me to a
seat on the bowider peppered turf. 1t
was enough. My knife was handy,
and forked from the pot by it's aid
a tenderly stewed birds wing. Our
eyes therefore sufficed for a space to
crafty any natural curiosity, our
mouths it would have been q rudeness
to interrupt. The meat dispatched,
the trooper pushed the billy my way.
and, in the absence of spoons. drank
from it fair share of the soup, which
he promptly finished 1t was then my
good fortune to contribute to the re-
past the last cupful of coffee in my
possession. At the pan | cleaned the
billy and filled it with fresh water.
while the trooper placed some more
fuel upon the smoldering fire.
II fear" said |. that have no
sugar"
This is a beast of a country" said
the trooper. 81 haven't had any sugar
in my coffee for three days. Come to
think. | haven't had much coffee either.
Well. there is always tobacco some
how. ! am economizing on native"
II have yet pipe or two of birds
eye" was glad to say, and with that
we fraternized.
1t was early in the day when we
slung our blankets about our shoulders
and stepped out along the lonely trek
cheerfully, for to each some compan-
ionship was that morning the most
needful thing. For nearly a week my
way had been entirely one Of solitude,
so that my own voice had sounded
startlingly in my ears If had called
out to raise chance bird In my path.
So, 1t appeared. had been the fortune
of the stranger. and it was now mu-
tual delight to keep step and chatter.
He pleased me. His gray eyes twin
kled humorously. his laugh rang heart
somely. He strobe athletically for
ward with the frank front of one who
would meet all adventures with the
confident Indifference of alert strength
and the consciousness of a will and liv-
er equally good: also. though he was
garbed in the uniform of a private, it
was no surprise to me to find him Of
education and breeding He was read
lily catalogued-a prodigal and an exile,
one of the South African army who
had left his past. perhaps his name, In
England. despairingly seeking a new
repute.
1T Is unnecessary" he remarked
when we had exchanged names. ''to
ask il you are for the Rand"
ut is the loadstone," said. "Eyery.
body is drawing there, and for my pur-
poses, which are pretty vague, johann
nesburg is perhaps the most promising
place in South Africa"
That stretch of road on the Bechu-
ana side of the Transvaal-if we may
fiatter it by calling it 'road"-is ter
ribly monotonous. through unwooded
veidt, sinking to dried up brooks, ris.
ing to dusty SUBMITS, wearily interim
nable. We met, remember, in over 20
miles. not living creature-nor Boer
nor Kaffir.
We were fortunate in having cold
coffee and plenty of tobacco, and 1t
was not until we began to feel hungry
that. in the proper fashion Of the road,
we cast about for a method of provid-
ing supper. We had not between us,
II is to be thought, a slxpence. OF
lodging we were well assured. Our
wide bed spread all about; our blan-
kets We're ready to unfold at sundown.
But the taste of the mornings stew
was dead upon the palate, and our
neither garments hung siackly from
the waist. We chirruped not so gladly
n N 70 xho
ing veldt with yearning for the sight
of a farmstead.
1t neared sundown when we found
what we sought, mile and more from
the trail, house of comforting proper
tions wrapped in an outer cloak Of
woods. An obliquc path led down to 1t.
and this we took to levy wallaber's
tribute upon the farmer. The sun sank
rapidly as we approached. seeing no.
body about, and it was dusk when we
halted to consult by large pond. lit
tie distance from the house. By this
the trooper sa: him down and grinned
at me.
MY DRESS" he said. ''is obnoxious to
the Boer, who has shot at such a uni
form before and may again. You go
alone and do your best. 1t does not
matter If he doesn't speak English.
He's pretty sure to understand you.".
left him scraping crumbs from his
pockets to feed the ducks in the pond
and went on to the house. Rising
ground soon hid him from my sight.
Following the path, | was met by
small barefooted boy. on whom law
ished my smiles The suspicious little
rascal did not pause to return them.