She was a nice old woman, as true as steel, and terribly worried by these dreadful times.
She had a married daughter in the Transvaal, and a brother also, whose sons, as well as daughters' husbands, would, she sorely feared, be commandeered to fight, in which case they might unknowingly be shooting their own relations over the border.

It was the same tale of misery, anxiety, and wretchedness, everywhere, and the war was but a few weeks old.

The population in that colony, whether Dutch or English, were so closely mixed together--their real interests so parallel--that it resolved itself locally into a veritable civil war.

It was all the more dreadful that these poor farmers, after having lost all their cattle by rinderpest, had just succeeded in getting together fresh herds, and were hoping for renewed prosperity.

Then came the almost certain chance of their beasts being raided, of their stores being looted, and of their women and children having to seek shelter to avoid rough treatment and incivility.