The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1901-10-11
WARS FIRST VICTIM.
BY JOHN DE MORGAN.

Ny Dolly olOEy TuD. SO.l
Yes, my girl, l tell you that great times
are at hand. DO you see that pole with the
flag of the South African republic floating
from it? Look at it, Aida, yes, look at it
for you will not have a chance to do so
many times more"
"Why father? You are not going to leave,
are you?"
Leave? Ha ha, ha! No, my girl, we will
not leave. 1t may be your old father will
be a great man and you shall wear silks
and satins-'
His words were lost in the merry laugh
ter of pretty Aida Newton, whose sides
shook with healthy mirth as she tried to
repeat what her father had said.
Silks and s%atins, oh, father, you ought
to be a writer on a comic paper"
The girl was dressed in a short skirt
of homespun, her feet were encased in heavy
shoes, strong enough for a farm laborer,
and the thought of silks and satins made
her laugh. Her father was one of the Out
landers and was a member of the so-called
reform committee of Johannesburg.
You may laugh, Aida, but what would
you say if the union jack Of England should
float from that pole, Ell, my girl?"
Il should say that l was ashamed of be-
ing English"
Ashamed Of your country"
My country, father, is the Transvaal Re-
public. L was born in England, but came
here so young that | have known no other
country but this. Yet | have been proud
of England"
And so you ought to be, my girl, and
soon this will be an English colony
Never, father. The burghers love their
lives and their homes, but they would see
every home burned to the ground, would
sacrifice every life before they would con-
sent to be deprived of independence"
"Hoity-toity, girl, in a few weeks such
talk will be treason. l tell you English
soldiers are on the way and then we shall
see
Another Majuba hill, perhaps
cit is that cursed Boer who has been
filling your head with such stuff. If L
catch him round here I'll put a bullet
through his Dutch carcass"
Aida did not wait to hear more. Her
heart was heavy for she knew that trouble
was brewing and that the Beers would be
slaughtered like sheep and she had learned
to love the simple people who had crossed
the Naal years before in order that they
might live as their conscience dictated, but
there was one Boer she loved more than
all the others, and to him she had pledged
her troth.
Paul Van Dorm was across the weld with
his cattle. He had gone for miles to find
the water course where his cattle could
escape the hot burning grass of the weld
and preserve their lives. He was a fine
specimen of the young Boer, his broad
brimmed hat kept the rays of the burning
sun from burning his bright, blue eyes, eyes
from which n soft 1pva 1JUht SaaO,pl IN
come, especially as their owner thought of
his dear Aida. His body was CARRIED in a
good homespun suit, cloth which his
mother had woven from wool his father
and himself had sneared from their own
sheep.
He thought of Aida and then of her
father. He knew the Outlander was am
bilious. He wondered whether the daughter
would ever be content to leave her home
and share his hard life. When night came
he dreamt that she was in trouble. His
sleep was disturbed, and he went down to
the waterside and bathed his brow, the
cooling water acting like magic on his
fevered brain. Again he slept and once
more he dreamt of her. He fancied she
was in danger, that she was calling for
him. In fright he woke, his face was
bathed with perspiration, his body trem-
bled violently.
He took lis gun and started across the
weld, directed only by the remembrance OF
the voice he had heard in his dream.
On he went, covering mile after mile;
his cattle were forgotten he thought only
of Aida, of his love, the one more precious
to him than all the diamonds owned by the
DE Beer company.
As the first rays of the glorious sun shot
across the weld bathing the distant hills in
superb grandeur, Paul saw a girl strug-
Cling in the grasp of a big, powerful man.
1t was enough. Tn girl must be Aida,
and his dream was a premonition, after
all. He raised his rife; he had no fear.
son, of putting a bullet through a buz-
Yards skull at a hundred yards, and a
man was a bigger target than a buzzard.
He took careful aim, pulled the trigger, and
fired. AT the same instant the mans grasp
of the girl relaxed and she was free; the
bullet had pierced his heart.
Like an ostrich in its flight Paul flew
across the weld. As he came near he saw
the girl on her knees bending over the dead
man.
Nearer still and he saw that the girl was
Aida and that she was heart-broken.
"Alida, Aida" he called, but she did not
answer. He approached and saw that the
dead man was her father, and he was filled
with horror.
"What have I done?" he cried.
Aida turned on him. Her eyes were dry
and burning. She waved him back.
"Do not touch met" she cried, you have
killed my father. ] was coming to warn
you, to tell you that he sought your life
because-because-' her bosom heaved with
emotion, her voice left her, she stood dumb
and paralyzed between her dead father and
her lover.
Paul made no attempt to speak. His
head was bent, and from his heart there
rose a silent prayer to Heaven for forgive
ness and for blessings on the bereaved
girl.
For several minutes they stood thus. a
conflict waged in the girls bosom, a CON
fiict between grief for her parent and love
for the young burgher.
"He would have killed YOU she cried
at last, but you killed him. Heaven guide
me to do right" Then she threw herself
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