Then General Joubert spoke.
"If I be the stumbling-block in the way of our success, then I pray God
to remove me," was the humble prayer of the warrior grown grey in wars,
who now found himself too feeble to direct the forces with his wonted
vigour. He then reminded us of brave deeds done in the past, and
expressed his confidence in the future, provided we did not lose heart.
When the General had finished, he sent officers round to marshal the men
into some sort of order. It was wonderful to see the change in the
spirit of the burghers. Where but a moment before had been disheartened
mutterings and sulky looks were now smiling faces and cheerful
conversation. With alacrity the men came forward, gave their names, and
that of their respective commandoes, and took in the positions assigned
them. The danger was past. Even the news of Cronje's surrender, which
was soon after made public, did not have more than a transient effect.
The anxiety as to his fate had been so keen that even to know the worst
was a relief.
For two disquieting days, however, nothing was heard of the rearguard.
To our relief it turned up on the third day. Several weeks of quiet
followed, the British resting after their giant efforts, whilst we
prepared to stem their further advance when it should take place. During
this period of inaction on the part of the enemy I was sent down into
Zululand, and stationed at a small spot named Nqutu, near Isandhlwana,
Rorke's Drift, Blood River, and other scenes of stirring battles fought
in former days.
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