Part 32 (1/2)

Subsequently, in and out he came and went, with the greatest regularity, and as often as twice a week he would leave the town with large numbers of Boers and Germans, eager to join the burgher forces in the field. His services became more and more valuable.

One evening when, after two days' rest in town, he was again preparing to depart for the commandos, his friend Willem Botha called to escort him through the town, as had been previously arranged.

Mr. Botha's house was in Proes Street between van der Walt and Market Streets, while not far away his trusted friend and confederate Mr.

Hocke lived, a man who rendered such innumerable services to the Boers that his name must not be forgotten here.

These two men met at Mr. Krause's house and found him ready to depart.

Although a man of slender build, he had now attained to such gigantic proportions that his friends could scarce believe their eyes, and, incredible as it may seem, the following is a full and accurate description of what he had about his person that memorable night:

Two pairs of trousers; two s.h.i.+rts; two full Mauser bandoliers over his shoulders and crossed over his breast; a woollen jersey; a thick coat; a long Mauser gun thrust into one trouser-leg; a German revolver belonging to Mr. Hocke; his own revolver, and a bag of about two feet in length, containing Mauser ammunition, which had been buried by Mrs.

Botha and was now going ”to the front”; boots, soap, was.h.i.+ng soda, cotton, and a number of other small articles, which had been ordered by the women on commando--that unknown band of heroic women, fleeing north, south, east, and west with their men, for whom they cooked and sewed and prayed throughout the long years of the war.

Krause had been ”shopping” in town for these brave sisters in the field, and I am sure his thoughts that night were not of fear for the perils he was about to face, but of satisfaction and pleasurable antic.i.p.ation of the joy his arrival at commando would occasion the women at the front.

Would that one of their undaunted band could be induced to give the world a record of their unique and altogether wonderful experiences of the war!

Mr. Krause's slight form was now twice, perhaps nearly thrice its usual size, and his friends, when they looked at him, laughed in incredulous amazement.

”Oh, man, what would I not give to possess a photo of you as you are dressed to-night!” Mr. Botha exclaimed between his fits of laughter.

It was now 7 o'clock and nearly dark.

The two guards, walking up and down the street on their accustomed beat, had just withdrawn; 7 o'clock was their dinner hour, this the plotters knew.

In a moment, Krause, with the bag over his shoulder and one leg of necessity held very straight, limped out into the open street, ”Oom Willie” (Botha) following and crossing to the other side.

Close to a street lamp, at the corner of Market Street, Krause suddenly saw a soldier walking on ahead, upon which he immediately turned down into Market Street, with the evident intention of pursuing his way along Vermeulen Street. This his friend quite understood as, ever on the opposite side of the street, he watched and followed Krause in his course.

Again a soldier appears on the scene, this time walking _towards_ them in Vermeulen Street. No time to turn back now; forward, boldly forward--the fugitive has been observed.

Under one of the lamps the watcher on the other side sees to his horror that one of the bandoliers has pushed its way up to the neck and is showing plainly above the collar of the coat.

The British guard observes this too, for he turns under the lamp and watches the retreating form intently. Just a moment, and he raises his whistle to his lips, giving forth the shrill alarm.

The game is up. Mr. Botha, unarmed, can be of no a.s.sistance to his friend, who now must fight his way alone from death and danger. The Mauser gun, which has been impeding his every movement, is whipped out of the trouser-leg as he flies, weapon conspicuously in hand, through the well-lit streets of Pretoria, until, making a sudden dive, he disappears between the wires of a fence, into the seclusion of a peaceful private garden. There is no time to think. He rushes through the garden from one side to another, out into the next street, and so on; block after block he takes, until he finds himself alone in a quiet street, far from the scene of danger, and while his enemies are surrounding and searching the block into which he first had disappeared, he is many miles away, plodding weary and heavy-laden to friends and liberty.

Only half satisfied as to his comrade's escape, Mr. Botha returned home in sore distress that night to watch and await developments, and it was not until Krause surprised him later with another and wholly unexpected visit that he learnt the sequel and happy ending of that memorable flight.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE DEATH OF ADOLPH KRAUSE

Uninterrupted communication had once more been established between the conspirators, and all was going well.

_So it seemed!_

But the Prince of Darkness was at work. And with him an accursed band of Judas-Boers.