The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-04-01
III Oisif 10 cronie.
The Boer General Proved Himself to
Be Good Host.

|
chefstroom was a ramshackle Cape cart,
drawn by four useful but unkempt nags,
In the charge Of a Cape boy CARRIED in
dirty hannels and straw hat that bore
the Guards ribbon. 1t was to him that 1
addressed my inquiry
ia, bass!" replied the boy, and, swing
ing my bag and gun case into the front,
| sat down behind 'Wlllem the coach
man.
A drive of some three miles along the
banks of the Moot river brought us to
the homestead, which differed in no way
from the ordinary farmhouse Of the ordi-
nary Boer, save, perhaps that it was
even untidier, If possible, than usual
The low, one-storied bungalow boosted
the conventional stoep, decorated with a
| couple Of dilapidated cane chairs and a
dozen withered plants rooted In rusty par
aftin tins. Mynheer Cronje was On the
stoep prepared to receive visitors The
Inevitable salutations passed: "Goe' NOR
rer, Dom, hou gaat Diet van dag?" and
the reply. "Goe' morrer neef'-and then
we lapsed into English, which Cronje
speaks fluently, If with a slight foreign
accent.
Dinner was soon announced by native
servant girl, and / was introduced to a
room full of relatives, including wife,
mother-in-law, sons, daughters and grand
children. There must have been a score
of them all told. and, according to the
usual custom, I gravely shook hands with
every one of them, from the eldest 10 the
youngest, gravely inquiring after their
health, and receiving the grumpiest OF
replies.
The meal was neither very good nor
very bad. AS far as I remember we had
a stew, potatoes, bread and cheese, wash
ed down with coffee.
The dining room was a long low, bare
room with whitewashed walls on which
hung few texts, and some pictures from
the illustrated papers. On the whole 1t
was a distinctly favorable specimen of
Boer house, far better perhaps, than
the majority thereof
Commandant Piet Cronje, for he was
not then general, struck me as an under
Sized well-set-up, amiable. and keen
looking typical vestryman, not in any
way the rough, uncouth Boer of whom
one reads so much, but rather the sort
of affable and genial Individual who
passes round the plate on Sunday or who
asks you to subscribe to a Sunday school
picnic. He had a wonderful flow of talk
First In English then in Dutch, and final
ly in both mixed, and he chaffed his
children and banded nonsense with his
wife as though he had not care in the
world.
My invitation was for week-end's
shooting. My host explained that he
thought 1t unlikely that we should get
any buck as the deer of the country are
called, but that birds in plenty would
be at our disposal. He mentioned the
dikkop. a species of plover; the korhaunt.
a delicious bird to eat, and quiet a luxury
In South African households; also If we
We're lucky, perhaps, a paauw, which is a
Kind of lesser bustard, and allied to the
turkey.
Next morning Cronje and his guests
took horse and rode some four miles to
viel, or lake, which lay on the confines
of his farm. Here we off-saddled, knee
battered the horses and turned them to
Craze. Taking our guns, we Iid behind
a kopje and an ant heap, waiting for
anything that might come our way. The
sun was high in the heavens. and sport
was scarce. However, after alternate
doing, watching, lunching and renewed
expectation we managed to collect a fair
mixed bag, including all the birds that
we had been promised, and also some
three brace Of red-legged cartridges,
very good variety, and closely akin to
the bird We are used to at home.
Unfortunately for US, we did not sight
a buck the whole day, although Cronje
assured us that a herd had crossed his
farm only tWenty-four hours before So
we had to put up with feathered game
alone, and We rode back at night heavily
laden with our days bag.
In the evening had a long political dis
cusston with the little great man, not
dreaming at that period that within a.
few years he would be leading an army
of his own followers against that of the
British empire. Cronjes opinions were
extraordinarily out of harmony with his
otherwise peaceful manner He declared
that the uttlanders as a whole were
curse TO the country, although he was
pleased to add that, personally he had
many good friends among them. He did
not parade his religion, as Is the usual
Boer habit, but declared that uitlander
money had perverted the supplemented
burgher from his bucolic ways of peace
and isolation. During our conversation
CronJe brought out a bottle of square
face which is the Beers favorite form
of Holland gin. He pressed all his guests
to drink with him, and 1 noticed that he
was a very moderate drinker himself, one
small glass sufficing for his needs OF
course he smoked necessarily, and told us
that he grew his own tobacco which his
wife cured for him in the primitive man
ner which had been handed down to her
from her great-grandmother from gen.
Grafton to generation. We filed our
pipes from his pouch and found 1t to be
an extremely agreeable and mild-smok-
ing tobacco.
Gradually we all got sleepy and asked
to be shown to our departments. CronJe
personally conducted me to a door on the
right of the sitting room, and showed me
into very neat little room, with gleam-
ing whitewashed walls that were almost
covered with text cards
a candle stuck In an empty beer bottle
was ON a chair, and a very large Bible
found a resting place on the Windowsill
The night passed calmly enough, save
for occasional interruptions of rats and
mosquitoes The beds were, of course,
innocent of mosquito curtains, and the
lood-thirsty and terrible specimen of his
tribe.
At breakfast next morning careful in
quiries were made to how the night
had been passed, and the appearance of
our somewhat swollen faces was COM
mented upon with rough but playful hui
NOR.
Cronje asked us whether we would like
a swim, because he knew that Englishmen
were always anxious to get into cold wa
ter on the smallest provocation. Person