Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1900-04-10
THIRST TORTURE IN AFRICA.
TERRIBLE SUFFERINGS OF THEN
BRITISH SOLDIER IN THE sun
PARCHED SANDS.
Dust Almost Unbearable-Soidier
Compelled to Drink Water Which
often is Too Thick to F1lter-A
Picture From the Field OF Battic.

LONDON, March 31.-EveryDouy re-
members the noted picture OF "Inlrst,
which portrays the gaunt, half-starVed
lion in the midst of the desert lap
ping up the few remaining drops OF
moisture of an impoverished pool.
A correspondent in the Morning
Post tells us that though the BRITISH
soldier "has thirsted in the thlrstiest
corners of the globe. he admits the
veldt to be a fresh experience. Alden,
India, Egypt, the Soudap; but here
Is something, not hotter, not drier, not
dustier, but less endurable for some
reason 1t is the army and South At
RIGA together, no doubt. which is the
cause. for men who have lived in Kim
berley. Johannesburg, Bloemfontein
and Natal are only now. while CAM
paigning, acquiring the experience.
It Will be quite curious to live with
put a water bottle slung about ones
shoulders Here, where one knows by
tired limbs the weight of what one
drinks, the thought of water flowing
through pipes seems a dream OF para
disc. And such Whitewater through
which one could see, which left no mud
ut the bottom of the mug and did not
stain what it was split on. One re-
members that in England they ana
lyze that kind of water Why, the
water we drink here is often too thick
even to filter.
cat Ramdam there was big pond
what was left of the moisture in the
dam. One bathed in it only under
the most COMPRISING compulsion of
cleanliness. The water was very shall
low, but the mud was black and deep.
One sank to the knees if one tried to
walk, and so sat gently half in mud
and half in brown syrup and thanked
God for water. One rose from it with
the green leeches hanging about ones
body like bits of seaweed. Horses
looked askance at that pond, but the
men drank of it greedily. and drank
of it, where alone they could reach it,
where the horses hoofs had churned it
into blackish green liquid thick as
soup"
Here is a vignette from the field of
battle: Twenty yards to the left a
man is lying pressed fiat against the
ground. He is very much the ground
color, and the occasional dust whirls
over him have aided the disguise.
There are little tufts of withered
scrub which help to hide him, though
but a few inches high. The sun has
been blazing on his back and the sand
about him for seven hours. and the
veldt Wayers confusedly in the glare of
the heat A pale blue lake of mirage
has formed about the farthest kopjes,
and left them like duck islands in the
sky"
The man on the left feels gingerly
for the tin bottle which lies under
his left elbow, his fingers spread over
its felt covering, and gives it a gentle
shake. The shake is repeated and he
begins to draw the bottle slowly under
him, keeping his body rigidly stiff.
The job is a long one because the bot
tie strap catches in his accoutrements,
and he dare not move to free it. When
he has it at last, beneath him, he be-
gins to turn over, as slowly as he has
done all else. He lifts his foot few
inches to balance himself, and the next
instant there is a spit of dust from
the sand beside him not much more
than an arms length away. He keeps
his eyes on the mark the bullet has
made and remains for some moments
as if it had turned him to stone. Then,
with more laborious patience, he re-
sumes his movement until at last he
is on his back and has the bottle above
him.
ut holds only few drops, and his
tongue is like a piece of fur in his
mouth. He got with a rush to the
place he occupies about o'clock in the
morning, when a sudden crackle from
the river in front of him laid the
whole line on its face, where it re-
manned with occasional wriggling for
ward, ever since. He is on the right of
his company and alone, for the man
next him, after chatting the Boer shoot
Ing for half an hour, began suddenly
to whimper and has been still ever
since.
He failed at first to take the bullets
humorously, but he got used to them,
till one came between his face and the
ground and struck his belt buckle.
Then he coursed them and was afraid,
till he lost all other feelings in the
awful sense of his thirst. He knows
the action is still going on, for he can
bear the steady pounding of a battery
from the hill behind him and suddenly
bcurries of rife beyond the river to the
left. He knows, too, from these hate
hui splits of dust that the Boer is still
behind the bushes in front of him, but