The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1901-09-07
CONVEYED BY A SPARK
MESSAGE OF THE PEACEFUL BOER
TO HIS FIGHTING BROTHER.

Burghers in the Field.
The big fighting is over, with its
Ladysmiths, Modder Rivers and
Stormbergs, and In its place a new
warfare has sprung up, warfare on
the run, says the Pretoria correspond
ent of the London Chronicle. The
British are In Pretoria; they hold the
towns and the railways. and the live
ly, waspish commanders are active In
their endeavors to make the outside
country uninhabitable.
There are In the Transvaal tranquil,
white-washed. iron-roofed dorps,
through which the trains run twice
daily with homely punctuality;
where shopkeepers grow fat in trade
with the big garrisons and officers fill
comfortable billets as Provost Mar
shaIs, District Commissioners and
what not, which are none the less In
state of actual siege, SO far as their
surroundings go. In the streets and
market places, in the shops and pretty
houses, there is nothing-save the ever
lasting topic Of conversational indi-
cate the presence of war and the prox-
unity of an armed foe. Good-natured
soldiers lounge through the place and
at the corners of the streets. 1t looks
rather like Germany In khaki. and the
good relations which prevail among
the townsfolk and the soldiery height
en- the resemblance. Surrendered
burghers, who have buried their Sun
day-best Mausers, and temporarily
suspended active operations. smoke on
their stoops with an outward air of
patriarchal benevolence that discred-
its caution and invites good faith. To
them the Britisher, with his belts and
bayonets, ranks and files, stars and
grades, is an ever-interesting anomaly;
| a pushing creature to be tolerated to
certain point, but to be sniped at
and rushed on proper occasion. They
come and they 60, these burghers, re-
garding oaths Of neutrality like the
laws of the old constitution. framed
for the advantage. and not for the OPP
preston of the wise men.
| This is view Of the inside Beyond
the pickets 1t Is otherwise. From the
hills which rise abruptly like islands
standing out of the water, the gray,
comfortless veldt rolls markedly to the
very skirts of the town. the skyline
is bare and clean as the edge of q
4 knife, and, looking straight before one,
one seems to see the rim Of the earth.
An OK stalks solemnly across his graz
ing ground: he Is the only moving
thing visible between here and the
sky. An innocent outlook; a most
innocent outlook. So innocent and
open that the cossack post striding
slowly from one boulder to another
and back again-it Is well to have
cover at hand-almost permits himself
to think of homeland that girl. In
the Transvaal the night drops quickly;
Fat one stride comes the DARK The
twilight, for the few brief minutes
that it lasts, is exquisite. 1t smooths
out the creases of the day. healing
where the sun has touched, easing
where the dust has stung, cooling the
brain and comforting the body. The
cossack post does think of home; he
remembers just such another evening
Then talk was not of war.
But-a light, a mere spark, winks
across the miles. 1t might have been
a star. accommodating over the edge
of q cloud before making its debut
at the dance Of the zodiac. On the
other hand, 1t might have been a sig
nal lamp, an affair of lenses and piv
OTIS, the tongue of fate. The cos
sack posts home whisks aloft to bidt
q better while, and his eyes nail them
selves on the point where that light
appeared and went out.
He waits perhaps five minutes. TheI
it lodges up again. Dot-dash, dash
iash-dot, 1t says, blinking brazenly tt
his very face The code is a very
strange one; nothing is to be gathered
from watching the message. He shoul
ders his rife, and steps briskly owe
the parched grass toward his home
side man. They are signalling to tn
town, where some of the patriarcha
surrendered ones are making the mos
of their time among the soldiers VIII
do not practice keeping secrets or hav
ing secrets to keep.
The light is announced from post t
post, and a clever young lieutenant
dragged from a card table to observ
. what he is too clever to hope to under
stand. They are men Of arms. thes
. soldiers, and do not recognize tn
brain as fighting unit-yet! Tha
| will come, but only after the next bi
! licking.
Meanwhile, a dear old boy with
. most benevolent beard, and ownin
!, to sixty years, despite his straigh
. back and keen eye and fresh cheel
/ Is leaning out of window watchin
: q lamp flashing through the darkness
: His name is Petrus Johannes Coetze
I and he has four sons on command
, and three more buried down by tn
r Tugela. His wife and married daugl
' tiers are out yonder on the farm, prt
v ltected from plumber and insult by til
, fat of Great Britain, and their egg
: and poultry are very comforting
, the poor fellows out in the hills wit
/ their rifles. His cattle, 1t is true, WEI
: icommandeered by an irresponsib
, lbrigadier. racing northward with b
s column to join French. but who. ne
! ertheless, found time to leave receil
In full. insuring generous paymen
! And Petrus Johannes Coetzee fine
1 the British officer very affable ar
> sympathetic, and takes great intere
1 In the army news that he hears.
His friends outside carry on an a
fectionate correspondence with hiI
On their side there Is the hello ar
signal lamp; on the other that marvt
ous machine, the Kaffir telegrap
Kafiirs are vermin. as We know. ar
i nuch touuor I'm tho scala of croQt f<