My mount was now thoroughly done up, having
eaten almost nothing for three days. I asked the farmer if he had a
horse for sale.
"There are several in the stable," he replied, "but they belong to my
son, and he is on commando; so I am sorry, but I can't sell you one."
"I tell you what we'll do," said Delange. "I'll give you one of mine for
yours, which can then remain here till it gets well. Should you come
round here again one day we can then change back again."
"But suppose the animal dies?"
"Oh, I'll risk that. What is one horse more or less?"
I gratefully accepted this generous offer, and soon had my new
acquisition saddled. It was a lively little nag, and all my weariness
passed away as I felt it bound between my knees. Delange remained here,
and my comrade and I continued our journey alone, making for Vrede.
"There's a Jew a few miles from here," said the farmer as he bade us
good luck, "whom we suspect of treason. You should try and trap him and
take him with you to Vrede."
Towards dusk we reached the Jew's store. We rode up to the building and
he came to the door, an intelligent-looking man.
"Good evening," I said in English, "are there any Boers about?" We were
both dressed after the English style.
When the man's wife heard English spoken she also came to the door and
stood by her husband's side.
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