It is for
the birthright of our children--freedom. We are no servile Hindoos to
meekly bow beneath the foreign yoke! They have put their hands to the
plough, but they will find it stubborn land, land that they will grow
weary of manuring with the bodies of their sons! And all for what? To
raise a crop of thistles and thorns, for that is all they'll ever get
out of us!"
"And it strikes me the end of the furrow is still out of sight."
"My boy," he said earnestly, "_this furrow has no end!_"
IN THE MOUNTAINS
"I wish you a pleasant journey," said our host the next morning, as we
prepared to mount. "Have you money enough? Yes? Well, in any case, take
this biltong along in your saddle-bags; it's my own make, you'll find it
good. Keep a good look-out. Good-bye!"
After thanking him warmly for his kindness, we rode off. Halting but
once to feed and water our horses, we reached a farm near Bethlehem
towards evening, where we spent the night. We were awakened by the sound
of a heavy bombardment in the direction of Bethlehem, which informed us
that the British were attacking the town. With an optimism that now
seems marvellous, we never for a moment doubted that the enemy would be
driven back, and that we would at last be able to take a little repose,
for twelve hours daily in the saddle was beginning to tell on us.
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