{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_16859/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_16859","id":"gutenberg_16859","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16859","summary":null,"tags":["Boer War","Category: Biographies","Category: History - Other","Category: History - Warfare","Category: Religion/Spirituality","South African War, 1899-1902 -- Concentration camps -- South Africa -- Bethulie","South African War, 1899-1902 -- Concentration camps -- South Africa -- Personal narrativies"],"text":"Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Audrey Longhurst, and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWoman's Endurance.\n\n\nBY A.D.L., B.A., CHAPLAIN IN THE CONCENTRATION CAMP, BETHULIE,\nO.R.C., 1901.\n\n\nCAPE TOWN: PRINTED BY S.A. NEWS CO., LTD., 1904.\n\n\n\n\nTo THE REV. H.C.J. BECKER, OF BETHULIE, O.R.C.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\n_DEAR READER_,--\n\n_A perusal of the following \"Introduction\" by the Author, and of his\ntrue and touching \"Diary,\" will assuredly carry the conviction into\nyour own soul, if you still require conviction, that our South\nAfrican women were the heroines of the late deplorable war._\n\n_May this pathetic relation bring us all nearer to one another in\nsympathy and love; and serve to awaken in every woman's breast the\ndesire to emulate and perpetuate the pure faith and noble devotion\nwhich these Sisters of ours have handed down to us and to all\nposterity as their priceless legacy._\n\n_In undertaking the responsibility for the publication of this\n\"Diary,\" I may simply state that the proceeds will be given towards\nthe support of the Orphanage at Bethulie._\n\n_Yours, etc.,_\nD. DE VILLIERS,\n_Secretary, Boer Relief Committee_.\nCAPE TOWN.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThis Journal was written in the Bethulie Concentration Camp just two\nyears ago.\n\nA few days after my return from Europe (whither I had gone for six\nmonths on the completion of a Theological course at Stellenbosch), a\ntelegram came from the Deputy Administrator of the Orange River\nColony, through the Rev. Wm. Robertson, inviting me to work as\nChaplain in one of the Concentration Camps.\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Pienaar, who had received a similar invitation, and I\ntherefore journeyed down to Bloemfontein a few days later. We\nreceived great courtesy at the hands of Sir Hamilton Gould-Adams, the\nDeputy Administrator, and every kindness from Mr. Robertson.\n\nIn a few days it was finally decided that Mr. Pienaar should go to\nIrene, in the Transvaal, and I to the Concentration Camp at Bethulie.\nThither I forthwith travelled, arriving at my destination on the 21st\nAugust.\n\nThe thought suggested itself the very first day that I might desire,\nin after years, to recall my experiences in Camp, and so I decided to\nkeep a diary. This thought, and this alone, prompted me in the\nmatter. Of an evening, therefore, just before retiring, I noted down\nthe doings of the day, consulting at such times always my pocket\nnote-book.\n\nWhat was written was done hurriedly, on the impulse of the moment--in\nfact, simply scribbled down without, of course, any regard to style,\nlanguage, or form. Stress of circumstances must be held responsible\nfor the many undignified expressions in which the Diary abounds. It\nshould not be forgotten, moreover, that I was usually tired out after\nthe day's work, when these entries were made.\n\nFor almost a year the Diary lay in my desk before I could summon\ncourage to re-read it. After it had been hidden again for another\nyear, I rashly promised a sick friend to send it for her to read.\nFearing, however, that she would not be able to follow all the\ncontractions, I decided to copy it over, and it was while thus\nengaged that it became clear to me that it should be published. Cui\nbono? is of course, the question which must be faced. The only answer\nI wish to plead is that this work is a tribute to Woman's Endurance,\nand that it presents in the story of that endurance, and the\nfortitude of the Dutch women and children, one of the nobler aspects\nof the late war. And is not this plea enough? Cannot we sometimes\nforget the inevitable political aspect of things and see beyond into\nthe human?\n\nIn conclusion, this: A diary is simply a confidential talk to one's\nself of one's self--such is its prerogative. While, then, sending\nforth into publicity this Journal in its entirety, so as not to mar\nits integrity, need it be suggested how hard it is occasionally to\nlay bare the naked soul within?\n\nDurbanville,\nCape Colony,\nSeptember, 1903.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNOTE.\n\nAs reproduced here, the Diary is substantially the same as the\noriginal, except for:--\n\n1. Contractions, which are written out.\n\n2. Slang, for which, where it could be done, inoffensive words are\nsubstituted.\n\nIn form it is given absolutely unchanged.\n\nI have found it necessary to add a number of notes, and to translate\nall the Dutch.\n\n\n\n\nDIARY.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. I.\n\n\nBethulie Concentration Camp, August, 1901.\n\nWednesday, August 21.--Arrived station 8.30 a.m. (from Bloemfontein);\ntedious delay; no pass to village obtainable, official in village for\nbreakfast; number of refugees in same train, among them a sick girl,\nwith fever: \"Pappie, Pappie, ach mij ou Pappie!\" (\"Daddy, daddy! O my\ndear daddy!\" Thus she cried whenever she was touched, as they carried\nher out of the train, and lifted her on to the wagon. She was\nfever-stricken and terribly emaciated. (Reference is made later to\nthis same girl.) Alas! Arrival village; visit parsonage (Becker's);\ndinner; things forwarded per wagon; arrival camp (mile out); meet\nsuperintendent; given a tent; dust; misery; the Van As's offer me a\nhome; kind; bitter cold night; leakage; bad draught; bad cold; feel\nlonesome; orphanish; pipe to rescue; great consolation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, August 22.--My tent untenable position; in the\nthoroughfare; speak Superintendent; obtain new site; private; buy 150\nbricks 1s. 6d., hire three boys, barrow 1s. 3d.; with miershoop\n(antheap, excellent for making floor) make brick kraal; hard work;\nMr. Van As[1] and Fourie grand; fine floor.\n\nFirst visits: Young girl, orphan, bad; Weinanda, little girl, \"Ja\nOom, ik is nou bij mij Mamie\" (\"Yes, Uncle, now I am with my\nmother\"); mind wanders. Third tent: Two babies wrestling with death;\nmothers raadeloos (in despair); 486[2], wife, babe at breast,\nmeasles; daughter, 14, convalescent; behind screen three children\nsick, measles; condition pitiable; husband prisoner Ladismith; great\ndirt; unbearable; the pity of it!\n\nPitch tent; wet floor; inside dire confusion.\n\nMeeting Church-square thirty-nine elders[3]; each a block; prayer;\nintroduction Rev. Becker; kind words and cheer.\n\nEarly bed; restless night; hospital close by; commotion; groans;\nfifteen buried to-day; service for Mr. Van As.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, August 23.--Early bird; wash spruit[4]; first shave (tears);\nVan As coffee; pathetic sight; old man leading old wife back to tent\nfrom hospital; Hugo; son just died.\n\nVisit Hugo's; dinner Van As; outspan (rest); cigar grand.\n\nUnpack; three Red Cross boxes (gift of the chemist); order out of\nchaos; spirits revive; visits 2.5 p.m.\n\nDying child; mother broken-hearted.\n\nDying mother; clear doorway; deathbed grim attraction for our people;\nprayer; understands.\n\nWidow; husband found dead outside in night; heart disease.\n\nSick child (since dead); sick child; sweet face; Louw.\n\nVisit sick child of yesterday, also Weinanda.\n\nStray; hear cough; enter; father invalid (wife dead); three sick\nchildren; youngest very bad.\n\nComfort mother of dead child.\n\nFunerals (seven), Mr. Becker: \"I was dumb and opened not my mouth.\"\n\nBurial ground; about 120 graves; weeping mothers; visit dying child;\nfool of myself, broke down in prayer; the helplessness in presence of\nDeath!\n\nThroat hoarse; dead off; return tent; meditate; convinced this work\nthe very hardest in whole world.\n\nAvoid taking guide next time (handicapped).\n\nNeglected to visit 486 and mothers of yesterday's dying children.\n\nStienie[5]; down measles; jelly.\n\nMr. Otto's dear loving daughter[6] died hospital.\n\nFourteen corpses (in morgue tents).\n\nVery many old friends all about of Papa's and Oom Jacob's[7].\n\nOne man disappointed; had expected Oom Jacob.\n\nNight: Strains of Psalm-singing; calm and fresh after shower of\nrain; follow ear; Snyman; short conversation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday, August 24.--Evening: Coughing; wailing; crying; groaning.\n\nExhausting day; pure, clear air after refreshing rain.\n\nThe misery in our Camp heart-rending; hopeless to cope with work.\n\nUp early; coffee in hospital kitchen; work.\n\n235a; six orphans; baby; dirt; sad!\n\n241; mother died to-day suddenly.\n\n239; boy 12, Ignatius; malignant growth shoulder; hopeless; pining\naway.\n\n249; child; measles.\n\n468; Venter; motherless infants; all sick; food scarce; despair;\npowerful grandmother (arms!); daughter; all measles; \"Ziet, minheer,\ndie dochter is nog'n lady: sij is nie getrouwd nie\" ('This daughter,\nsir, is still a lady; she is not yet married'); Bengers; beef tea.[8]\n\n485; Van Heerde; mother and tentful of sick children; pitiable;\ncamphor; brandy.\n\n487; Engelbrecht; Mrs. P. de Lint[9]; wonderful discovery; yet withal\nsad; father India; children ill; wife broken-hearted; great\nrejoicing; thanksgiving for change.\n\n321; Old Mr. De Villiers, grand old man; great cheer to myself.\n\n268; Mrs. De Villiers; five children sick.\n\n383; mother died last week; daughter this morning; \"Minheer, dit was\nde prachtigste sterfbed wat ik ooit gezien het\" ('Sir, it was the\nmost beautiful deathbed I have ever seen'); \"Dag, tante, ik gaat naar\ndie Heere Jesus toe\" ('Good-bye, Aunt, I am going to the Lord\nJesus'); remaining daughter very, very bad; \"Minheer, moet assemblief\nbid dat ik kan gezond word\" ('Sir, you must pray, please, that I may\nrecover'); little hope; inflammation.\n\n292; Van der Berg; wife died last night.\n\n81; casual visit; Mrs. Van Staden; Mrs. Otto; sick children.\n\n80; Mrs. Van der Merwe died to-day; old lady, Mrs. Pienaar, ill in\nbed; when I repeated some verses Gezang 65[10], old lady forestalled\nme line for line.\n\n612; \"Ach mij lieve ou Pappie\"; better.\n\nFive hours' incessant work; wearisome; thank God when twilight comes.\n\nWork here for ten men; no chance alone; no show; the helplessness of\nit all! and there are hundreds sick and dying that I know not of, and\nthat I could not visit even should I know.\n\nMy brothers-elders must help me more.\n\nHad I not seen body of 80 removed I should never have known.\n\nFunerals this morning; twelve; rude coffins; rough and ready biers\n(six); young Hugo; \"Gelijk een bloem des velds\" (\"As for man his days\nare as grass; as a flower of the field so he flourisheth\")[11]\n\nVisit Mrs. Liebenberg, whose girlie was buried; prostrate; never saw\nglimpse of Mr. Becker.\n\nGreat concern because of the difficulty of cleanliness amid such dire\nstraits; point determined; to warn and exhort one and all to the\nstrictest cleanliness[12]; for \"cleanliness is next to godliness.\"\n\nSaw long convoy travelling past.\n\nEighteen corpses in morgue tents.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, August 25.--Longish day.\n\n235a; six orphans[13]; nice and clean; very satisfactory; boy bad.\n\n383; still same; poor girl.\n\n113; death; child; much misery; Olivier.\n\nChurch 1.30; open air; glorious weather; attentive congregation;\nsinging impressive; majority stand; grand pulpit(!); regular rostrum.\n\nAfternoon work begins 2 p.m., ends 7 p.m.; incessant, wearying.\n\nTwenty-eight visits.\n\nOur Camp one large hospital, with hundreds wrestling with measles,\npneumonia, fever. The sorrow of it that I never can sit down and say,\n\"Now I have visited all the sick.\" There are hundreds of whom I know\nnothing.\n\nHorrible whistle that! It signals the morgue tent people to come and\nremove the dead. It is Death's shrill, harsh, jarring, triumphant\nshout! It shivers one through.\n\n176; great misery.\n\n235b; child died; food needed.\n\n375; dead child.\n\n175; a most harrowing spectacle; Badenhorst; old father; old mother;\nbedridden 15-year-old boy; water head; simple; old mother feeds it\nmouth to mouth[14]; \"Die kind, leeraart, het ik nou al lang afgege\naan de Heere Jesus!\" (This child, Pastor, I have given to the Lord\nJesus long ago.\") She dotes on this imbecile, poor mother. Such a\nsimple, homely, gladsome, believing old heart. \"Ik ben velen een\nwonder geweest\" (\"I am a wonder unto many\"); me certainly; daughter\nwith sick girlie; \"De Heere het haar ver ons terug gege\" (\"The Lord\nhas given her back to us\"); there was a fire in their tent, and this\nyoung mother was badly burnt to the bone (wrist).\n\n169; Heever; four children; all sick.\n\n450; great distress; Du Toit; child sick; no nourishment; young\nmother sick; only child dead.\n\n526; De Wet; daughter delirious; dying; two others sick on the floor;\npathetic.\n\n372; Kotze; baby dying; two others sick; great friends Oom Jacob.\n\n156; Joubert (or Ackerman); daughter; floor; dying; measles and\npneumonia.\n\n15; Barnard; two daughters; one dangerously sick; poor anxious\nmother! While hurrying to relieve with some beef tea and Benger's\nFood stopped on way by desperate mother.\n\n471; Marais; eight children; all sick; no nourishment; two very bad.\nTo think of it!\n\nAfter tea called to 235; orphans; boy very bad; sisters' tears.\n\nAlso 211; Roux; daughter; pneumonia.\n\nAgain 383; much drawn to that child; large, soft, trustful brown\neyes; asked yesterday that I pray she might get well; to-day\notherwise; trusting.\n\nDistributed beef tea and Benger's food to some very urgent cases; the\nthankfulness melts one's heart.\n\nFunerals; fourteen.\n\nFound on getting home plate food on box; enjoyed same at tea; great\ncheer to be with the Van As's.\n\nClosed Sunday School; children sing \"Dat's Heeren Zegen!\" (\"The\nblessing of the Lord descend on thee.\")\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMonday, August 26.--That imbecile boy died to-day; the old mother\nsent for me, but I found no time to go.\n\nDon't think 526 will last long; gave candles, beef tea and Benger's\nFood this evening.\n\n383 much better; smiled this morning when I entered.\n\n339; great tribulation; six deaths in one week.\n\n440; girlie; sweet face; wonder if she will die or live; very, very\nbad; Cloete.\n\n288; Mrs. Venter; young wife; sick; five children sick; gave beef tea\nand Benger's Food.\n\n352; the lost little lamb found; one of my first, whose number I had\nomitted to take; Weinanda; five years; pining away; large grey eyes;\nfar-away look; poor little mite; Ken jij ver mij, me kind?\" (Do you\nstill remember me, child?\") \"Ja, Oom; Oom is de Predikant\" (\"Yes,\nUncle; Uncle is the Minister\"). \"Is Weinanda blij dat Oom weer gekom\nhet?\" (\"Is Weinanda glad that Uncle has come again?\") \"Ja, Oom; Oom\nis goed om te kom\" (\"Yes, Uncle; it was good of Uncle to come\")\nWonder if I really am rather soft; but when this little mite clasped\nher tiny hands together when Oom began to pray, I was bowled clean\nover.\n\n35, 156, 15 rather better.\n\nAt 34 found old friends of Oom Jacob; Wernich; the old woman weak;\nvery nice to meet so many great friends of Oom Jacob and of Papa from\nColesberg; old Mr. Du Plessis can't get over it.\n\nWasted much time at weekly meeting of the Elders; impatient; each\nElder has block of sixteen tents to care for; heard reports; nearly\nall report general sickness. The amount of sickness just now is\nterrible; a vast hospital; the bitter cold nights play havoc; most\nlie on the hard bare ground.\n\nFighting grimly with uncleanliness; the idea that it is dangerous to\nwash with measles; rot!\n\nAnother great point; must insist that friends and relatives abstain\nfrom all long-faced despondency, with total absence of any cheer and\nhopefulness; this bad effect on patients; if anyone seriously ill,\nthey \"hands up\" and cluster around to await the end, lest perchance\nthey miss seeing \"zoo 'n prachtige sterfbed\" (such a beautiful\ndeathbed).\n\nMrs. Botha (outer Camp) sent for me; penitent; wonder if it is only\nthe fear that drives her, or whether it is a genuine case of true\nrepentance; she has measles badly.\n\n91; mother sick; five children (and one in hospital).\n\nSad about 398; buried two children this afternoon; this is the third;\nmother also dead; husband sick; glad I found time to see him; poor\nfellow.\n\n458; great distress; old grandmother; sick mother; sick children; no\nnourishment; no candles; very helpless; Benger's Food, beef tea, and\ncandles.\n\nMade only about twenty-two visits to-day.\n\nRelieved Mr. Becker funeral service; seven this afternoon; had no\ntime to prepare; reckless; got through somehow; \"Het wordt gezaaid in\nverderfelijkheid, het wordt opgewekt in onverderfelijkheid\" (It is\nsown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption).\n\n\"Ja, leeraar, hier in ons Kamp wordt daar nie droppels tranen gestort\nnie maar emmers vol\" (\"Yes, Pastor, here in our Camp it is not drops\nbut bucketsful of tears that are shed\").\n\nThere are about a dozen corpses in morgue tents just now.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, August 27.--The blessedness of eventide.\n\nLetters from Issie and Louise; seem to have forgotten for a brief\nspace the sorrows around.\n\nRecord day so far; visited thirty-five tents; very hard task. It is\nso delightful to offer up a thanksgiving prayer for a change; the\nusual \"noodgebed\" (emergency prayer) is most wearying. Thank God,\nthat in some I found \"beterschap\" (convalescence).\n\nAm striking out in new direction now; there is too much despondency\nand heaviness of spirit rampant; anyhow, extremely difficult task,\nfor the conditions all around are most lamentably depressing.\n\nAm going to sew blankets into bag this evening, a la Hanglip[15];\nlast night bitterly cold; frost this morning; to-day very hot again;\nthese two extremes so disastrous to the sick.\n\n440 little better, and 383 much better.\n\n190; Mrs. Taljard died last night.\n\nDeaths at 201, 312, and 460 also; and all these had never yet been\nvisited. Here is where the dissatisfaction comes in; and yet, how am\nI to know?\n\nIn 436 a child died; mother in great sorrow.\n\nNext to 416 is Mrs. Van der Walt; very sick; not at all serene\nwithin; such cases very hard. While at dinner suddenly called to Mrs.\nVan der Walt--death's throes; prayer; when at dinner, on return,\nheard the horrible whistle go.\n\nOur wood is done, and there remains nothing wherewith to make\ncoffins; will have to bury in blankets to-morrow I fear; this will\ncause extra affliction and unhappiness. Pitiable to see husband of\nMrs. Van der Walt pleading for boxes which could not be given; and he\nwas \"schatryk\" (very rich) they say. There will be a great outcry,\nI'm afraid. And yet, after all, will a coffin save the soul?\n\nAfter dinner, 169; baby died; mother sorely stricken.\n\nVisited old mother in 25 again, and spoke few words of cheer; she is\nan old Christian; blessed me for coming.\n\nIn luck's way to-day; felt inclined for handwash, and was taken into\ntent 335; Horak's; relations of old Jaap's[16]; nice, clean, tidy;\ndelighted; happiness; mother; daughter; autoharp; lemon syrup; must\ngo again if I can.\n\n\"Wie is daar? Wat is dit?\" (\"Who is there? What is it?\")\n\n\"Zal Minheer L---- assemblief gou kom naar Mrs. Meintjes? Zij le op\nsterve!\" (\"Will Mr. L---- please come quickly to Mrs. Meintjes? She is\ndying!\")\n\nJust returned; delirious; called her by name after prayer, and she\nbecame conscious for a few seconds; fear her moments on earth are\nnumbered. How good of those girls to watch over her! Husband rushed\nout of tent in tears. Now, what could I do?\n\n\"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds can see into the bottom of\nour grief?\"\n\n10 p.m., walked through Camp.\n\nGreat coughs; little coughs; deep coughs; shrill coughs; hoarse\ncoughs; long coughs; short coughs; coughs that are no coughs at all.\nWonder how many are to die to-night!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWednesday, August 28.--Now if there is anything that rubs me up the\nwrong way, it is to see a crowd around a tent doorway, watching the\nend. Yesterday I lost my temper at 35, and gave it hot all round.\nSuch barefaced curiosity is revolting; I hate it.\n\nYes, 35 (21 years) passed away last night, and so did 415 (Mrs.\nMeintjes), whom I visited late last evening.\n\nThis morning the black list was laid on my table; twelve[17] in the\nnight--339, 415, 125, 253, 180, 526, 419, 35, 353, 450, I didn't\nexpect 415 to live long.\n\nThe night has been a most restless one; \"Ja, minheer, ons het\nvannacht nie rust gehad nie\" (\"Yes, sir, we had no rest last night\")\n(morgue tents men).\n\nI woke at 2 a.m. with the tramp of these bearers removing\ncorpses[18].\n\nOne longs for day, and the night seems never to end.\n\nTwice funerals--morning at 11 a.m. (six), \"Leer ons alzoo onze dagen\ntellen\" (\"So teach us to number our days\"); afternoon, 4 p.m. (six),\n\"En de dooden werden geoordeeld uit hetgeen in de boeken geschreven\nwas, naar hunne werken\" (\"And the dead were judged out of those\nthings which were written in the books, according to their works\").\n\nOur wood has given in, and we are forced to bury in blankets. But let\nme not think on it! It is painful to remember, and our people feel\nvery deeply.\n\nThe Van der Walts managed to put together an apology for a coffin,\nand there was something pathetically comic about that production. I\nthink it was made of candle and milk boxes.\n\nThat reminds me, what queer pastimes some folks can have. One man\ncasually informed me that he attends all the funerals! But some folks\nunconsciously delight to wander in the sombre shadows of life. A\nfuneral to me is a most fatiguing duty; more so when one has to give\nan address at the graves, and there is no time for preparation except\non the march to the burying ground. I am getting reckless, for I am\nforced absolutely to rely on impromptu grace. I tremble, when I think\nwhat I risk each day.\n\nVisits only a dozen, owing to funerals.\n\nSad about 91; very bad.\n\n599, 602, 606, 16, 238, 327, all new tents, with great affliction;\nmust go soon again.\n\nCalled to 117; Nel; young wife; just received tidings of her\nhusband's death in Ceylon; desperately stricken; hard, hard case.\n\nCalled to hospital; Annie Bothma[19]; strong young girl (twenty);\nvery bad; just struggling to live; mother holding hand. Foeitog!\n(alas!) So well and strong; horrid pneumonia; have visited her again,\nand cannot get reconciled that she should die. And yet she yearns to\nbe \"ontbonden\" (loosed), and begs of me to pray to that effect. Now,\nGod forgive me, but this dying girl's request I cannot, cannot accede\nto. Humanly speaking, she simply cannot live; it is only her\nabnormally strong constitution that fights so grimly. I have wrestled\nwith God for her life. Oh, she must not, may not, die! Think of the\nweak, frail mother--of the father far, far away in Ceylon! \"O ye of\nlittle faith\"; and yet I firmly believe God can still spare her life.\n\nYesterday, row about the miserable meat[20]. Some women rather\nviolent and loose with tongue; to-day committed to imprisonment.\nYesterday my letters were returned by the Censor. I boiled over for\nsome time; such a little snob, who is too big for his boots!\nPinpricks; will fight it out to-morrow.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, August 29.--Went back to hospital after writing above, and\nthen I did indeed pray as the sick girl desired. God took her home at\nabout two this morning. Poor child! she did suffer so very much, and\nyet withal so patiently; \"Die doctor het mij gif ingespuyt en gif\ningege daarom lei ik zoo zwaar\" (\"The doctor injected poison into me,\nand gave me to take poison; that is why I suffer so bitterly\"); very\nlikely morphia had to be injected. Whenever I repeated a verse to her\nshe would say the lines in advance.\n\nAfter breakfast I went to village for first time; saw Magistrate;\nobtained residential pass; hunted high and low for boards for coffin\nfor Annie Bothma. At last, after despairing search, succeeded in\ngetting six boards and two boxes; hope they will be enough wherewith\nto fashion some sort of a coffin.\n\nDined with the Beckers.\n\nDeaths last night--8, 129, 401, 52, 427, 213, 239, and one in\nhospital.\n\nVery trying afternoon among the dying.\n\nOne woman just giving her last breath when I entered to pray for her;\nlamentation. Roaring lion, because of the crowd of inquisitives;\nstood at doorway and addressed them; said I was ashamed of their\nconduct; boiled over. Simply will not stand such things; and yet such\nthings are inevitable with a camp of 650[21] tents all crowded\ntogether; with hundreds swarming all over, and countless children. Am\ngoing to put a stop to children visiting morgue tents[22]; should not\nbe allowed; will see Superintendent to-morrow.\n\n91 very bad.\n\nI usually make a last round after the day's work to take Benger's\nFood and beef tea, etc., to urgent cases. When I got to 268, found\nshe had died soon after my visit.\n\nHave written to Issie and Mr. Robertson.\n\nWonder how long my things will last, and what I shall do after that.\n\nDead tired.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, August 30.--Village; morning visits.\n\nFound 91 died in night.\n\nDropped in to speak few words to old woman in 25; don't think she\nwill last very long.\n\n79; boy sick; relapse; Van der Berg; baby died yesterday\n\nMrs. Castelan lies sick in 76; husband Bloemfontein Camp; three\nchildren sick; also daughter just out of hospital (1-1/4 months).\n\nCalled in at 217; Du Preez; very nice, clean people; daughter very\nsick; pneumonia; found her very much distressed, and that because the\nthought of being buried without coffin was so repulsive; \"Net sous\neen beest\" (just like an animal). We must not anticipate God!\n\nAm much distressed that 383, who was getting well so nicely, and who\nsmiled when I looked in yesterday, has died.\n\nMother died few weeks ago, and sister few days ago.\n\nNear the coalfields[23] I was called to see Mrs. Van der Walt; 191;\nheart bad; most desperately anxious to be taken \"home,\" and quite\nready too; wonder if she will live through the night!\n\nWhen a person decides and is determined to die, the chances at\nrecovery are very poor indeed.\n\nMr. Otto called and asked me to take prayer meeting 2 p.m. \"En Samuel\nbad den Heere\" (And Samuel prayed unto the Lord).\n\nThen came the inevitable funerals, ten, among others Annie Botha. Oh,\nthe sorrow of it! the sorrow of it! Nothing is more regular than that\ndreary procession every afternoon at four o'clock.\n\nSeveral in blankets; \"Ik ben verstomd, ik deed mynen mond niet open,\nwant gij hebt het gedaan\" (I was dumb, I opened not my mouth because\nthou didst it).\n\nMet old Tollie's[24] brother; rejoiced.\n\nFound sick orphan girl I visited first day; much better.\n\nNice dinner; nice supper; \"vet schaapie en vet ou bokkie\" (fat lamb,\nfat little goat), which we bought.\n\nWonder what I would have done were the Van As's not here; so happy\nwith them; everyone always so cheerful[25].\n\nAt tea called to pray with dying little girl; went immediately, and\nfound tent full of weeping and wailing women; the little girl was in\ndeath's throes; short prayer, and when I finished her spirit had\nfled; mother frantic; hard, very hard to know how best to comfort. A\nwoman is a wonderful network of cross-wires, and when these wires\nget unstrung or entangled, the result is most distressing. In\npresence of such, one feels hopelessly lost, and all one can do is\nto--walk away. And yet, for downright, dogged perseverance--for\nsilent, struggling endurance--for quiet, patient suffering--commend\nme to a woman. What would become of Man without the Woman!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday, August 31.--Glum; just returned from dying boy, Herklaas;\nyoung, strong; father Ceylon; visited him yesterday; said he did not\nwant to die because his father was away, and he had to care for the\nmother. Touched late last night, and found him very bad; went down\nagain with doctor[26]; this morning he was better, but this afternoon\nworse, and now (10 p.m.) I find him dying. I am very, very\ndown-hearted to-night, and am tempted to think that, after all,\nGod--No! I won't write it, because I believe this is a temptation of\nSatan! But oh! we did pray so fervently that God should spare his\nlife; he is still so young and so strong. Found some more inquisitive\nonlookers. Some folks will put themselves to endless inconvenience to\nbe able to witness a deathbed. They revel in it. I am vexed in my\nsoul, and feel as though I could knock down everyone of them.\n\nFunerals twice to-day.\n\nThis morning I buried seven; \"Het wordt snellijk afgesneden\" (For it\nis soon cut off).\n\nThis afternoon Mr. Becker buried six.\n\nThere were twenty corpses in morgue tents this morning.\n\nThis afternoon a column struck camp half a mile north of our Camp.\n\nTo-morrow is Sunday; I am quite unprepared, and must hold two\nservices.\n\nWalked through Camp this evening (10 p.m.); found several women busy\nround fire; all to warm \"pap\" (poultice) for sick children. Pneumonia\nis playing havoc.\n\nBetter stop; feeling tootoo to-night; and besides, my two letters\nhave again been returned by the Censor, and I am too cross for\nanything.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 1: Mr. Van As and Mr. Fourie laid out the floor for my\ntent, and encircled it with a 9-inch wall.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Each tent was numbered.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Not real church elders; each, however, had a block of\ntents under his care.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Stream between Camp and village; it only had running\nwater, though, after rain.]\n\n[Footnote 5: Mr. Van As's eldest daughter.]\n\n[Footnote 6: Sannie Otto was the bosom friend of Sarah van As. Sarah\nhas since died.]\n\n[Footnote 7: My father was for many years minister at Colesberg, and\nmy uncle again at Fauresmith.]\n\n[Footnote 8: Some friends at Durbanville subscribed about L20, with\nwhich I had bought some invalid food, to take down with me from Cape\nTown (beef tea, Benger's Food, jelly, arrowroot, dozen bottles of\nport). While visiting the sick I noted down the most distressing\ncases, and after the day's work I made a final round to these tents\nwith some of this invalid food.]\n\n[Footnote 9: Pieter de Lint, an old College friend.]\n\n[Footnote 10: Our Hymnary is divided into Psalms and Evangelical\nhymns (Psalmen en Gezangen).]\n\n[Footnote 11: I decided to note down always in diary my text for the\naddress at the gravesides. Our people expect the pastor to give an\naddress before reading the Burial Service.]\n\n[Footnote 12: What with water to be carried, rations to be fetched,\nwood to be brought and chopped, food to be cooked (in the open),\nbread to be baked, washing to be done (not to speak of the menial\nsanitary duties), it was indeed hard for a mother (herself perhaps\nweak), with a number of sick children, to keep her tent clean.]\n\n[Footnote 13: Van Huysteens. The mother was shot while they were\nfleeing before the English. There was a babe of five months.]\n\n[Footnote 14: As a pigeon feeds its young.]\n\n[Footnote 15: Where I have often camped out.]\n\n[Footnote 16: College chum.]\n\n[Footnote 17: The twelfth was probably in hospital.]\n\n[Footnote 18: When removing the dead from a certain section of the\nCamp, the bearers had to pass my tent.]\n\n[Footnote 19: She was a probationer.]\n\n[Footnote 20: The women, brandishing the meat ration on high,\nliterally laid siege to the official tent. The meat supplied was\nmiserably lean, quite unfit for consumption. I myself wouldn't have\ngiven it to a dog. When thrown against a wall, for instance, it would\nstick. Throughout the Camp it was dubbed \"vrekvlys\" (a man dies, an\nanimal \"vreks\"--vlys is meat). The flour given was good, for the bread\nwas usually excellent.]\n\n[Footnote 21: This number soon grew to 800.]\n\n[Footnote 22: There were three such tents about 100 yards beyond the\nhospital; they were the most dilapidated tents in the whole Camp,\nalways open; they were occasionally blown down.]\n\n[Footnote 23: A ration of coal was sometimes served out.]\n\n[Footnote 24: Another old College chum.]\n\n[Footnote 25: The Van As's received my ration (which was same as\ntheirs), and I took all my meals with them.]\n\n[Footnote 26: This doctor, a most capable man, was always most\nfriendly to me. I had learnt to humour him, and he was ever willing\nto accompany me, even at night, to desperate cases. He was, however,\nalmost as universally detested as he was feared, and ultimately was\nknocked down by an irate husband.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II.\n\n\nSunday, September 1.--Recklessness; preached twice to-day without any\npreparation; \"sommer uit die vuis uit\" (literally, straight from the\nfist); simply compelled to; very unpleasant day; wind and dust; made\nservices very short; fifty-five minutes.\n\nIn afternoon a large crowd of young people.\n\nMr. Otto took funerals for me this morning (eleven buried).\n\nThis afternoon Mr. Becker buried six.\n\nAbout fourteen have died since last night.\n\nIt is pitiable to see the innocent little children and babies\nsuffering and struggling against the accursed pneumonia; and there\nseems no hope when once they get it. Poor little mites!\n\nA census taken lately gives 683 as the number of sick. Milk ration[27]\nhas been stopped since yesterday; new sorrow. Our Camp a veritable\nvalley of desolation. For the very essence of sorrow and misery, come\nhere! For weeping, wailing mothers, come here! For broken hearts,\ncome here! For desperate misery and hopelessness, come here! What\nwould become of us if we had not our Religion to fall back upon!\nWhat, if we had not the assurance that a Good and Merciful God reigns\nabove! What if there was no Love! What, if there was no hope of the\nResurrection and Life Everlasting! What, if there is nothing beyond\nthe Grave!\n\nThe nights here are so awful, and one yearns for day; and then the\nfearfulness of being awakened repeatedly in the night by the tramp of\nthose who carry away the dead to the morgue tents. I woke last night\nin such a way, and knew that they were bearing young Herklaas away.\nOne grows a bit pessimistic under the circumstances. Despite my\nservices, I had to visit several sick--mostly dying children, with\nweeping mothers. It is so hard to pray, and so very wearying. And\nthen, to comfort and cheer, when your own heart is lead within.\n\nIn the hospital there are many sick; am neglecting the hospital, and\nmy conscience hurts, but am going regularly from to-morrow; must find\ntime somewhere.\n\nMrs. De Lint's children are all sick; baby very bad; poor woman; am\nso sorry for her; Peter away in Ceylon.\n\nThose deep rings round the eyes, which one sees all about, bear\ntestimony to nights of watching and of anguish in the heart. May God\ntake pity!\n\nMonday, September 2.--Bitter day, the bitterest I have yet had;\nSuperintendent furious because of my last letters[28]. The worst is I\nsee that I am altogether misunderstood, and that I am suspected now\nof interfering and working against the Superintendent. And yet this\nis not so, for I would go to-morrow if I knew I was at all hostile to\nthe authorities. I fear I have been indiscreet in what I wrote; shall\nhave straight talk to-morrow, and ask Superintendent to let me resign\nif I have not his confidence; there must be no suspicion, otherwise I\ncannot stay. This matter is a load upon my heart.\n\nBusy day; new tents 63, 552a, 50, 40, all with sick children except\n552, where young man is very sick.\n\nCalled to hospital; Mrs. Retief dying; prayer; expired just after.\nHurried to 34, but found I was just too late; Mrs. Ackerman just\ndied.\n\n156; very sad case; mother, Mrs. Joubert, died this morning, and when\nI came I found three helpless little ones all alone, and sick too;\nfather in Bloemfontein Camp; the grandmother will provide, I\nunderstand.\n\nHad short conversation with Mr. Branders, Superintendent Sunday\nSchool, and decided to exhort parents to send children to school.\n\n395; Mrs. Botha very ill; twenty-eight days in bed; advise removal\nhospital; this afternoon doctor called and said she was dying; she\nleaves a baby.\n\nWent to few cases with doctor; very interesting; get on well with\nhim.\n\nVisited 239, Ignatius, with malignant growth on arm; must soon die.\n\nTook doctor to see 36; young girl suddenly sick; great misery there;\nbad ventilation; four others measles.\n\nFunerals this afternoon (about nine); \"Hetgeen gij zaait wordt niet\nlevend tenzij dat het gestorven is\" (That which thou sowest is not\nquickened except it die).\n\nVisited hospital to-day, and mean to go regularly each day.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, September 3.--Went to Superintendent first thing to-day;\nreasonable[29]; long talk; reconciled; thank God.\n\nFound boy in 34 very, very bad; this afternoon stopped bearers on way\nto morgue tents, and learnt that they were carrying him away; poor\nlittle fellow; he suffered so very much!\n\nIn 35 there is also great sickness.\n\n27; Mrs. Taljaard; very sick baby; also sick boy; husband commando.\n\nHospital; read and prayed in the three wards; glad I went; some very\nseriously ill; so sorry to hear that Miss Hendriks died this morning;\nshe was very bad; spoke to her yesterday, and prayed with her; she\nenquired restlessly, time after time, \"Is dit nog nie vijf uur nie?\"\n(Is it not yet five o'clock?). At five this morning she passed away.\n\nThe men's ward quite full; all ages; all were so glad to have me read\nand pray.\n\n541; Mrs. Steyn; two children gone; very sore; glad I went.\n\n500; Mrs. Schoeman; eight children; two sick; husband Ceylon.\n\n503; Mrs. Robertson; baby dead; two boys sick; husband fighting.\n\nIn 418 great misery; Mrs. Herbst ill and three sick children.\n\nIn 322 called in to pray for dying baby.\n\nVery busy afternoon; always stopped on way and called in.\n\nNeglected 475.\n\nThe poor little mites! the horrid, cruel pneumonia! and there seems\nto be no saving them when once the pneumonia, grips them.\n\nMr. Becker took funerals, seventeen; several in blankets.\n\nAnd so we go forth day by day; the dread whistle; the regular tramp\nof the bearers to morgue tents, and the slowly winding procession\nevery afternoon.\n\nCalled hurriedly to hospital twice; dying girl just brought in; could\nunderstand.\n\nHysterical girl Martie[30], swearing and cursing all round; each\nnurse in particular, and the whole lot generally.\n\nOld Mrs. Van Zyl, 492, evidently dying.\n\nCalled to enquire after old Mrs. Oosthuizen; found she had died soon\nafter last visit.\n\nPleasant evening; stories of my travels; in Italy once more.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWednesday, September 4.--My visits to hospital I love.\n\nThat one girl such a sad case; fever and most terrible headache; they\nsay it is sunstroke.\n\nHysterical girl quiet.\n\nFilth and stench in some tents almost unbearable.\n\nNos. 34 and 35 very bad; ventilated tent myself; some folks built\nthat way, and sickness becomes their trench behind which they\nshelter. But I will persist in maintaining that no matter the\nsickness, no matter the distress and poverty, cleanliness is a\npossibility anywhere[31]. But what an opportunity for the careless to\ndegenerate!\n\nManaged to get bedstead for Mrs. Van Zyl; fear she won't last long.\n\nI wonder what the safest policy would be when two women pour out\ntheir griefs into your ear at the same time. When they simultaneously\ntell you all about their departed cherubs? Some people selfish in\ntheir sorrow. Took little camphor brandy Mrs. Niemand's; tent full\nlamenting womenfolk; and the helpless babe casting her black eyes\nfrom one to another. Some people will insist on anticipating the\nAlmighty (the child is dead, though).\n\nSaw a child to-day the very image of a mouse; two months' illness;\nlarge ears; black eyes; thin, bony hands; huddled together.\n\nVery busy afternoon.\n\nFunerals at 4 p.m.; eighteen corpses; \"En God zal alle tranen van\nhunne oogen afwisschen\" (And God shall wipe away all tears from their\neyes).\n\nHow can one's heart remain hard? Can one be unmoved when you see\nweeping, stricken mothers kneeling in anguish beside their infants'\ngraves?\n\nLove, after all, is the greatest and most mysterious of all things.\n\nExplain it that a mother can cling to a helpless, idiotic, deformed\nboy for fourteen years, and feed him mouth to mouth! Explain that a\nmother can sit up night and day, day and night, with a sick child!\nLook at those deep-set eyes, sorrow-sunken, their care-wornness, and\ntell me what is this Love that endureth all things!\n\nTwo things have I learnt during these fourteen days which till now to\nme were \"all fancy\"--the meaning of Love and the thing called\nReligion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, September 5th.--Tent overhauled; floor rubbed and \"smeered\"\n(coated); very miserable, windy day; dust; dirt; towards evening cold\nsouth winds; fear it will work havoc with the children to-night.\n\nHospitals; so sorry about Miss Snyman; quite delirious to-day; wonder\nif she will live.\n\nHysterical one[32] quite tame; \"Ach, minheer zijn hand is tog zoo\nkoud; ik wens, minheer, wil die heele dag mij kop hou\" (\"Ah, sir,\nyour hand is so very cold, I wish you would hold it to my head the\nwhole day\").\n\nFound things cleaner at 35; still great misery.\n\nFear old Mrs. Van Zyl will die.\n\nThe De Wets (526) sad way; so many sick; one daughter dead; two\nchildren in hospital; this afternoon baby died.\n\nNeglected to go to Mrs. Niemand--poor little mother!\n\nDe Lintz in great misery; gnashing teeth girlie[33] weaker.\n\nSome people selfish in their sorrow; but I don't suppose a man can\nfathom the love a mother bears her child!\n\nNear Church (!) great misery; sick mother (husband Bloemfontein) and\nfour sick children; all helplessly ill; no one to help; and water has\nto be carried and wood fetched and chopped.\n\nMilk supply has been stopped in Camp; this causes great distress.\n\nWhat sorrows one is to find tent upon tent with sick children and no\nnourishing or invalid food; not even milk.\n\nWonder if there can be suffering greater than what some folk endure\nhere.\n\nMr. Becker funerals; four, I believe, only (!).\n\nEight died since yesterday afternoon; may a change come speedily.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, September 6.--Handicapped with a horrible cold, which won't\ngo away; throat hoarse; unpleasant day, very; wind, dust.\n\nDaily routine: Hospital; visits; dinner; visits; funerals; visits;\nsupper; bed.\n\nNine buried this afternoon; \"Heere gij zijt ons een Toevlucht van\nGeslacht tot Geslacht\" (Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling-place in\nall generations); dreary business.\n\nThere have died during one month (August) about 230 people.\n\nA new doctor has come, and now I hope things will grow brighter.\n\nMiss Snyman in hospital little better.\n\nSad case this evening; found mother at bedside[34] of sick child; she\nhas lost two already this week, and this one is the last; husband\ndied Green Point. The sorrow of it! May God spare that child's life.\n\nHear from Mr. Becker that the old Tante[35] beyond the Camp, with\nsick mother and sick children, has broken down. What on earth will\nbecome of them?\n\nSome here unconsciously overdo it, and overtax their own strength in\ntheir grim fights with Angel of Death. A sort of superhuman power\nsustains them for a time, and then--the collapse!\n\nBut there sings the kettle![36]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday, September 7.--To-morrow is Sunday, and my sermons? O, the\nrecklessness of it! I had determined to set aside this afternoon for\npreparation.\n\nMorning very busy.\n\nMrs. Mentz' child dead.\n\nHospitals; hysterical girl very bad; fear she won't pull through;\nothers betterish; except the fever one; very weak.\n\nIn men's ward, old Mr. Petersen dying; quite conscious; waiting on\nGod; Ps. 23.\n\nAnother youth also very bad.\n\nArrangements upset; funerals this morning (seven); had to rush to\novertake procession; Ps. 39, \"Handbreed\" (an hand-breadth).\n\nFound I was burying Mrs. De Lint's infant and also \"she of the\ngnashing teeth.\"\n\nSorrowing mothers; I always hurry away when the first sod falls with\nits horrible thud; it unstrings the chords of one's being, and the\nbest thing is to depart.\n\nSpent afternoon in; at five, went to few tents.\n\nOld Tante yonder; the great collapse; very sorrowful; faithful unto\ndeath. Weeks of toil; untiring efforts with sick daughter and her\nthree sick children; poor; helpless; no one to assist save little\nBilly, who herself is sick. And now--now the daughter is better, the\nthree children on the way to recovery, and the faithful old\ngrandmother? Nunc demittis. She has lain there like a log since\nyesterday without nourishment; took beef tea; kind neighbour brought\nbroth; made her sit up, and she gulped down the food; will try and\nget her removed to hospital to-morrow.\n\nVisited Mrs. Naude of yesterday; anguish; the last child died this\nmorning; husband gone; three children gone; alone. Made fool of\nmyself. O, the pity of it all!\n\nLong visit from Doctor; desperate; at wit's end; and with a sermon\nhanging upon my mind.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, September 8.--Most awful day of wind and dust. May I never\nsee such another.\n\nChurch (!); open air; clouds of dust; people just simply buried in\ndust; could scarcely read; whole service forty-five minutes.\n\nDuring sermon compelled to turn round and shut eyes; saw on opening\nthem that my black hat had changed to my brown one.\n\nMet wailing women on return; Mrs. Lubbe; news of husband's death;\nshot in war; frantic; visited this evening; hopeless. What could I\ndo? frantic despair; cruel anguish unconsolable. Grief makes one\nunreasonable. I think one should fight against grief and not collapse\nso readily; and yet--and yet!\n\nFunerals five; old Mr. Petersen; large crowd; availed myself of\nopportunity; \"Alleen wiens namen opgeschreven zijn in het Boek des\nLevens des Lams\" (But they which are written in the Lamb's Book of\nLife).\n\nMay God not let His word return to Him void; read also Psalm 25,\nwhich I read to old Mr. Petersen just before he died.\n\nAccompanied Mrs. Mentz to see husband in hospital; youngest child\ndead; father knows not; in fear and trembling lest she should tell.\nHe gave her half an orange to give the little girl (buried already);\nI must tell him of child's death to-morrow; bitter task.\n\nDisappointed about hospital; could not go through thoroughly; some\nthere who won't pull through, I'm afraid.\n\nOn way home from funerals called in to pray for dying children; found\nI was too late at the first tent; much grief and wailing; second\ntent; baby dying.\n\nNeglected to go to old mother beyond; wonder if!\n\nThis evening two girls came to ask for candle; great misery no light;\ngave half a candle; visited this evening Van der Walt; sorrowful;\nthree children ill; saw my candle burning. What if I had not been\nable to give! Other sick children; sent brandy and Benger's food.\n\nMr. Becker service afternoon; same old dust.\n\nHeard there were some of the Ladies' Commission present; good! May\nGod bless their work and give them His Spirit in their work. May they\nsee all.\n\nNice singing at our Church this evening; Miss Dussels; new doctor\nsick; \"ipperkonders\" gave him cocoa.\n\nWeinanda dead; thank God! another burden of suffering ended.\n\nWoman I prayed with in hospital this afternoon, dead this evening.\n\nGirlie (35) Ackerman also dying.\n\nMrs. De Wet called me to her bedside (hospital), and asked me to pray\nthat she might sleep. May God's angels guard over those hospital\ntents this night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMonday, September 9.--Ladies' Commission; one of them, Dr. Jane\nWaterston. Glorious rain. How nice it will be to sleep with the\nsoothing music of falling showers.\n\nOur new kitchen getting on famously. What a comfort it will be when\nfinished. It takes 800 bricks to build a kitchen here, and few there\nbe that possess such a luxury. Spent half an hour in kitchen of\nhospital after visits; delighted with the sight of walls again; more\ndetermined than ever to go and do likewise. Am sure won't need more\nthan 3,000 bricks to build a regular palace, and won't it be\nglorious! Besides, one does not know in the least, how long we are\nstill to remain here, and even were it only a month longer it would\nbe worth while.\n\nDoctor gave up 71; went and found woman dead; child very sick; found\nMr. Becker there.\n\nJust after dinner was called to see one of the little orphans of few\ndays ago; went at 2.30; too late; bad of me; should have gone\nimmediately.\n\nTo-day saw the thinnest, boniest woman imaginable; Mrs. Booysen; just\na skeleton; husband Ceylon; daughter here; son and daughter still at\nthe front.\n\nSaw also the most emaciated baby imaginable; puny; nine months;\nmother dead; lives on \"genade\" (mercy) of other mothers whose babies\nare dead; a regular \"kannie dood\" (literally, a \"won't die\").\n\nGot the Van Huysteen girls to undertake case of outside tent with\nold grandmother; opened bottom to-day to ventilate; foul.\n\nVisited old Mr. Van Heerde; very bad; wife \"praat soos een boek\"\n(talks like a book); quite a change to do a bit of listening on\npoints of Theology!\n\nFound the Fouries of first day; daughter much better.\n\nThe quack doctor deserves to be kicked; found bottle of medicine on\ntable somewhere; pure water; five shillings. He is coining money and\nfleecing people most scandalously; child now luckily in hospital;\nspoke strongly to parents on the point.\n\nIn hospital things are rather glum; Miss Snyman utterly weak and\nfearfully excited; hysterical girl still alive; so are all others;\nbut I fear some of them won't see light of morning.\n\nDoctor actually in bed in hospital; bad too; rather a sell; tables\ncruelly turned on us.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, September 10.--Ladies' Commission here again; can more or\nless predict what report will be.[37]\n\nRain all night; soaking showers; this morning everything very muddy;\nsome streets in Camp awful; and then to see the \"gesukel\" (distress)\nthis morning all round among the women trying to cook breakfast.\n\nYesterday met several women carrying heavy buckets of water; \"Dit is\ndaarom nie vrouwen's werk nie\" (This truly is not work for women).\n\nThe women here have a rough time; what with no servants, no kitchen,\nscanty wood, and poor rations; it is hard to make ends meet. Were it\nnot for the little extras[38] we have (golden syrup, jam, oatmeal,\ntea and until yesterday fat), I wonder what I would do.\n\nWent to village to-day; nothing to be had there; was absolutely\nrefused permit for rice and beans; got 4 lbs. peas; candles not to be\nhad for love or money; dined Beckers.\n\nOwing to presence of Ladies' Commission, unable to do my daily visit\nto hospital; three have died--Mrs. Kruger, Miss Ackerman, and a lad\nof seventeen.\n\nSuperintendent called me to-day, and said I could issue \"briefies\"\n(notes) for food to-morrow; very glad, for I know many tents where\nthere is dire distress.\n\nVery weary and sickish; eager for bed.\n\nFunerals nine; \"U te kennen is het eeuwige leven\" (To know Thee is\nlife everlasting.\"\n\nYesterday Mr. Becker buried eleven.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo-day most were in blankets.\n\nWednesday, September 11.--Waylaid doctor; throat bad; got two bottles\nmedicine; seedy.\n\n34 and 71 great distress; the girl in 71 actually still alive; some\npeople die hard.\n\nHurried back to hospital; Miss Snyman now so hysterical removed; tent\nto herself; wonder if!\n\nThat Lotz girl too is still alive; but what a wonderful constitution\nshe must have!\n\nSaw some distressing and heartrending cases to-day.\n\n626; mother in agony; strong daughter (18) in throes of death and\nfearfully \"benauwd\" (in agony), pneumonia. Little sister; insensible;\nfar gone; no doctor.\n\nHunted for doctor; gone to village; took him down this evening at\nnine. O, the sorrow of it! Can never imagine a more harrowing\nspectacle; we got medicine down; stayed three-quarters of an hour;\nleft doctor there and returned. Here go the bearers with their\nlifeless burden; the elder sister died little while ago.\n\nThe little one, too, is dead; poor suffering innocents!\n\nThat sweet little girl at 128, whom I visited late last night, and\nwith whom I prayed--she, too, died early this morning; and now she\nhas the desire of her heart: they were laying her out when I called\nthis morning.\n\nVisited tent to which I sent little brandy yesterday; found child\nhad just died; too late.\n\nGave old woman at 34, children and grandchildren, earnest talking-to\nthis afternoon; old woman, over seventy, quite callous as to\nreligion; no \"behoefte\" (sense of need): \"Remember now thy Creator in\nthe days of thy youth.\"\n\nOld Mr. Van Heerde, whom I visited two days ago, died in night. Great\nconsternation about little boy in 348; was getting on so well, and\nactually dead this morning. Doctor completely upset; he took great\ntrouble with this child; poor little chap, he had such a bonny little\nface.\n\nOur kitchen we are building, getting on famously; I stand good for\nbricks and wood; we need about 1,000 bricks; quite a great affair,\nand will prove a blessing.\n\nGave out \"briefies\" to-day, but fear that I shall give up the job;\nwhat use, when they return empty-handed, or with but half the things!\nSorely vexed in my soul at the treatment I receive. Why ask me to\nissue briefies?\n\nWashing-stand looks handsome, thanks to Stienie; oilcloth will make\nit quite spruce.\n\nYoung man addressed me quite intimate-like this afternoon, \"En wat\nschrijf maat in de boekie?\" (\"Mate, what are you writing in that\nbook?\")\n\nMr. Becker funerals; don't know number.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, September 12.--News from Steytler[39]; sent away from\nPotchefstroom; let me be doubly careful. I am so attached to my work\nnow, love it, that it would be a grievous burden were I compelled to\ngive it up[40].\n\nOnly there is too much, too much to do, and if I visit one side of\nthe Camp, the other side has to be neglected. Five would have their\nhands comfortably full here, and then there would be less \"oorslaan\"\n(neglect).\n\nI am continually asked to visit new sick people; there seems to be no\nend to all the sickness.\n\nThe woman in 34 is very bad; next door to 626 is also great misery;\nchildren very sick and without medical attendance. That is so\nsorrowful; the number of tents where no doctor comes[41], the absence\nof invalid food and nourishment; the hard, bare floor (heard of a\ncase yesterday where grass had begun to grow under sick bed); the\ndespair and helplessness of the mothers.\n\nAnother burden--no lights! There are numbers of tents where there is\nsickness, in some cases dying people, and where to-night there is not\nan inch of candle.\n\nPathetic sight yesterday; mother melting odd ends and scraps of\ntallow and fat to make some sort of candle; daughter on brink of\ndeath.\n\nWonder what plan they have made to-night for light!\n\nGirl 71 still alive; wonderful.\n\nFunerals--nine, I believe; great crowd; calamity; one grave short,\nand coffin had to be returned; women faint; consternation.\n\nUpset, and couldn't pick my thread in address, \"En ziet een groote\nschaar die niemand tellen kon\" (And lo! a great multitude which no\nman could number). These funerals most painful and wearying, and then\nthe burden of having to give address.\n\nSmall quantity boards arrived; may we have no more burials in\nblankets now!\n\nMrs. Snyman in tears yesterday in hospital, and her great trouble was\nthat there would be no coffin for her daughter, who is in jaws of\ndeath; reprimand; should not anticipate God; besides, the sorrows of\nto-day are grievous enough, why bear to-morrow's in the bargain?\n\nGreat wailing and lamentation round morgue tents this morning;\ndaughter and wife of old Mr. Van Heerde; and she boasted so big three\ndays ago of her boundless faith. Gave her straight talk; fruit of our\nfaith is our resignation and peace of heart. Thank God rather for the\nblessedness of so long and happy a union; cross with daughter; a\nwoman can become so unreasonable in her grief.\n\nArrival of my autoharp; gladness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, September 13.--Spat fire. Now let me never have occasion to\nget so annoyed again; wished for a bag of chaff to pummel for half an\nhour just to let off steam.\n\n458 the very essence of misery; old mother helpless (since dead);\nyoung mother sick; three wretched and sick children; and yet when I\npresented myself for rice at office was cold-shouldered by Assistant\nSuperintendent; and these be the things sent by friends from Cape\nTown to relieve distress here; and after permission from\nSuperintendent to issue \"briefies! I got rice and two beef teas after\nall; but sparks inward flew all the same.\n\nGot to 458; found old grandmother dead; wished Assistant\nSuperintendent could have been forced to look in; but what an if!\n\nThere comes the pity of it all--total absence of sympathy of any\nkind!\n\nWonder of wonders; 70 new person; much better; returned from the very\nborders; now let me never doubt on the subject of miracles again!\n\nSaw crowd (hateful) round 34; worked way in; dying. Singing of hymn;\nprayer (and after, strong words to crowd). This horrible\nattractiveness of a deathbed! Where does it originate?\n\n34 and 35, Ackermans; these people have had ten deaths since their\narrival in Camp; they are dying out altogether. There is one in\nhospital, and she has small chances of recovery.\n\nLong visit to hospital; all four wards. Spoke to Mrs. ----, who lost\nher babe in night.\n\nBetty Lotz quite \"plezierig\" (cheerful); Betty Kruger (mother died\nfew days ago in hospital), sweet little girl; languid dark brown\neyes; much suffering; wonder if!\n\nSnyman girl very low; mother there; very pathetic: quite delirious;\nfear!\n\nWent to see Mrs. Welgemoed, 518; very bad; don't think she will \"make\nit.\"[42]\n\nMrs. Hett called me in; very concerned; Annie, ten years, very ill;\nsweet little thing; took her some Benger's Food and milk; wine.\nMother in mortal dread of seeing child sent to hospital; but what\nfoolishness! Selfish, and altogether disastrous policy.\n\nSaw Mr. Becker; not here yesterday; poor man; new misery; new cross;\nand he looks like a bit of leather already. The military contemplate\ntaking possession of his parsonage (he has wife, four little\nchildren), and this good man has slaved ever since the Camp has been\nhere, day after day, indefatigably, out of pure goodness and\ncharity.[43]\n\nOur kitchen has the woodwork of its roof finished; hope soon to see\nit completed; glorious anticipation; a masterpiece!\n\nTramping about from 1.30 to 6.30, and now exceedingly tired. Wonder\nhow about Sunday's sermons.\n\nMr. Becker; funerals--nine, I believe.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday, September 14.--Great day; this way: inspected this\nafternoon immense new marquee tent put up for hospital; glorious\nwithin; charmed; mindful of our sufferings when trying to hold and\nattend Divine service; idea spontaneous; immediate action; bee-line\nto Superintendent's tent; psychological moment; agreeable. Hurrah!\nStrike iron while hot; enlist men to help at 3 p.m. Resultum: Fine\nlarge tent between the two school sheds; \"Alles achter mekaar\"\n(everything in order). Can have use of school forms, which will seat\n300 people. Position grand; bit aside, but quiet and clean\nneighbourhood. Inauguration to-morrow.\n\nAnd sermon? That still to be made. It's no absolute good; busy whole\nmorning; planned to reserve afternoon for preparation.\n\nAfternoon comes; new church; funerals; final visits, and where does\nthe preparation come in? No show! Never mind; too satisfied to\ngrumble to-night; \"Alles zal wel recht komen\" (all will come right).\n\nNo chance for hospital to-day; sorry; Betty Lotz dead; poor child.\nYesterday I still teased her with her cropped hair and the orange she\nwas eating; always so glad when I come; \"Betty, gij kan moes mooi\nhoor als ik lees en bid neh\" (\"Betty, you listen very nicely when I\nread and pray\"). \"O ja, minheer, ik luister baing mooi\" (\"O yes, sir,\nI listen very well\").\n\nBuried her this afternoon, also seven others; \"Dood, waar is uw\nprikkel?\" (Death, where is thy sting?)\n\nShe belonged to 627, from which two daughters were buried in the\nweek; parents far away; aunt still very sick.\n\nFound Mrs. Barkhuizen dying; passed away soon after I left.\n\n518, Mrs. Welgemoed, died in night; baby also dying; great sorrow.\n\nCalled to console mother whose babe had just died, Mrs. Van der M.\n\nNext door old Mr. R. dying, and, worst of all, unprepared. Oh! how\nunspeakably difficult is my work and how fearful the responsibility!\n\nWonder if he is still alive? Mr. Otto[44] went to him too, and I\nasked Mr. Becker to visit him also.\n\nRather ashamed this morning; had taken down Nos. 268 and 263 some\ndays ago, and never yet been there. To-day \"voorgekeerd\" (waylaid).\n\n268, Mrs. Steyn; very sick for one and a half months already; glad I\nwent; in other tent found Mrs. Fourie; heard that her two children\nalready dead; very resigned; glad of my visit even though so late in\nday.\n\nWhile in official tent, woman came with note, for maizena, brandy,\nand milk from doctor; was simply told there was none. (And where are\nthe things that came down lately, with two dozen brandy and 24 dozen\nmilk?)\n\nGave her arrowroot and milk. This is no isolated case. How many go\naway empty-handed who present \"briefies\" at the office? The cry for a\nlittle brandy or wine is simply pitiable. And candles! Fie on it! O\nfie!\n\nOur kitchen nearly done; grand tin roof, out of coffee tins (one\nshilling a tin); must inaugurate on Monday with pancakes or\nsomething.\n\nNow for sermon (10.30 p.m.).\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, September 15 (the Great 15th)[45].--What a day!\n\nYesterday ecstasy over new church; to-day in the depths again. Joy\nshortlived. This way: very stormy night; soaking rains; morning\nwhirlwind, frightful; hurried to the church; one side already blown\nloose; mighty burst wind; whole show laid low. Such are the\nvicissitudes of Camp life.\n\nService out of question. Thankful!\n\nSimilar tent, hospital, also blown down same time. A fellow feeling\nmakes us wondrous kind.\n\nOne of morgue tents also blown down.\n\nLast night very restless one; bearers with their horrid tramp always\nwaken me, and it is fearful to be so awakened.\n\nMr. Roelvert they bore away last night, and several others. It was\nfrightfully dark, and on one occasion the men walked bang against my\n\"airing structure\"[46] to their great discomfort.\n\nWoke again 3.30 with peculiar noise. \"There goes Dr. Maddon's[47]\ntent,\" says I, \"the pole has snapped.\" Rather helpless sort; guessed\nhe would come to me; and so it was. Made him call out five times\nbefore I answered, just for fun; got up and helped him; delightful to\nget into bed again.\n\nSo sorry. I hear Betty Lotz was buried yesterday in blanket; glad I\nwas unaware it was she. She asked me the last time I saw her,\n\"Wanneer gaat, minheer, dan mij stukkie lees uit die Bijbel?\" (\"Sir,\nwhen are ou going to read my little portion out of the Bible?\") \"Wat\nis dit dan, Betty?\" (\"What is it, Betty?\") \"Minheer, van Jairus en\nsijn dochtertje\" (\"Sir, about the daughter of Jairus\"). I promised to\nread that for next day; but this promise unfulfilled; couldn't go to\nhospital yesterday; besides, she was carried away by then. Never\nmind, I'll read about Jairus' daughter to-morrow all the same.\n\nBetty Kruger betterish; poor little thing; her mother died in\nbeginning of week, also in hospital. She knows nothing though, but\nto-day she asked her sister to make her a black frock because her\nmother was dead.\n\nMiss Taljaard very much better; if she pulls through it will be a\nmiracle. Mr. Van der Merwe very, very bad indeed (enteric); wonder\nif! Sad; mother died some days ago; then young wife, and yesterday\nhis little daughter was buried. Is there a sorrow like to our sorrow?\n\nLittle boy is dying in hospital.\n\n49; child also dead.\n\n156; of these remaining orphans (Joubert's), one little girlie is\ndying. Foeitog!\n\n70 very much better.\n\nGot bedstead for 631; three little children dangerously ill; and all\nthree \"deurgele\" (bedsores); \"Mammie, mammie, mij boutjes is zoo\nzeer\" (\"Mother, mother, my legs are so sore\").\n\nThe misery there is heartrending; hard ground; cold and wet as well.\nPoor little mites; and nourishment?\n\nSecond visit. Found mother down too; terrible pain. What will happen\nnow, I wonder!\n\nCalled in to 620; old Mrs. Roux; sick; prayer; asked me to come\nagain.\n\nWish I could press a button and summon papa to do the praying part\nfor me!\n\nNumber of deaths so far (according to Mr. Becker's funeral lists)\nabout 420.\n\nSince I've been here (25 days), we have buried about 300. Appalling\nfigures!\n\nThis afternoon (Mr. Becker), funerals eight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMonday, September 16.--Flood.\n\nOur Camp one sheet of water and mud; furrow too small for the rush of\nwater; great inundations; many tents flooded; great misery; and how\nabout the cooking business? Everything to be done outside (we are\namong the few privileged with a kitchen). Women have to wade through\nwater and mud; wet wood; raining continually. Just picture the scene!\n\nCame to one tent; in front of door one mass clay and mud; inside\nawful; and yet there lay a girl very dangerously sick, and another\nalso down.\n\n425, Mrs. Booysen; skeleton; completely flooded; everything wet; and\nthe floor! Yesterday they got her a bedstead; till now she had to lie\non the floor; sick daughter; wonder where she will sleep. Floor?\nImpossible.\n\nIn another tent rain leaked through; water all over.\n\nAnother matter which tells of fresh misery. The sanitary sheds and\nscreens are all some distance out of the camp. Imagine the\npainfulness of affairs on days like this, when one hardly dares put\nhead out of doors.\n\nOverheard conversation between old man and doctor:\n\nYou, what do you want here? Go away from this ---- tent! Voetzak,\nvoetzak! Get away from this ---- tent!\" This was to an old man. It\nmakes one's blood boil. There is no real--no, not a particle\nof--sympathy.\n\nIn 631, wife told me doctor (another) came past, and she, meaning\nthat he was looking for her tent (third morning already and he had\nnot yet come), attempted to direct him. \"You go to ----!\" was all she\ngot; and she has three little ones in very precarious state.\n\nVisited in New Camp; several sick there.\n\n652, sick wife and child. (Nice biltongs[48] hanging up; but for all\nmy hints, got nothing!)\n\n631, Kotze; doppers; two girls measles; prayer; repeated Psalm.\n\n518, little child (mother dead two days ago) died this after noon.\n\nFound another very sick girlie, 532, Venter; took orange wine,\narrowroot, milk; but I doubt whether she'll \"make it\"; too far gone.\n\nTalk with Mrs. Steyn, who has lost three children; such a good little\nwoman; while there an old Tante came, evidently to tell all her tale\nof woe, so I cleared.\n\nFunerals ten, all children.\n\nMeant to have spoken on \"Heere, maak mij bekend mijne einde\" (Lord,\nmake me to know mine end), but on discovery at graveyard that all\nwere children, spoke on \"The Reaper and the Flowers.\"\n\nMiss Snyman in hospital, moaning awfully just now; just been there;\npoor girl; and she disturbs all the others.\n\nSpruit nicely down; Mr. Becker not come; can't get across evidently.\n\nVisits to hospital. In women's ward \"beterschap\"; little Betty and\nMiss Taljaard much better; wonder if!\n\nRead to them about Jairus' daughter; but the other Betty \"wasn't\nthere no more\" to hear.\n\nPancakes; five easily.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, September 17.--Fine, glorious day; people all busy airing\nand drying things; life again.\n\n69, old Mr. Theunissen, very weak; old man; old wife; floor. Hard\nluck; \"Ach, Minheer, ik het zoo gewens dat mij zoon mij ooge moet toe\ndruk, en nou is hij in Ceylon, en ik voel dat ik nie langmeer hier\nzal wees nie\" (\"O sir, I did so wish that my son should close my\neyes, and now he is in Ceylon, and I feel that I won't be here much\nlonger\").\n\nSaw Mr. Mentz being led home to tent (from hospital) by Mr. Booysen;\nanxiety; knows nothing about daughter's death, and his wife lies ill\nin bed. What's to be done? Mr. Mentz (one month in hospital) still\nvery weak. Brought him to the Van As's for some tea while I planned\nhow best to act. Decide to break news to him just before he arrives\nat tent; very painful task indeed. Caught the two up just before tent\ndoor, and told him to stop a minute. Now God help me and him!--Thank\nGod, it is over! Rude, cruel awakening! O the sorrow, the sorrow of\nit! Prayed with family, and left with heavy, leaden heart.\n\nWhy is there so much sorrow and bitterness in this life?\n\nLast week, when his wife visited him in hospital, he gave her half an\norange to give his Nellie, and on another occasion a biscuit--and all\nthe while his girlie was under the cold, dark sod.\n\nVisited Van den Heever, 68. Also 626, 631, 624, 70, 74.\n\nWent with trembling heart to 532; \"Waar is die kind?\" (\"Where is the\nchild?\"). \"Nee, Minheer, zij is vannach om een uur dood\" (\"Sir, she\ndied last night at one o'clock\").\n\nFound the Van Zyls, 499, and the Robertsons, 503, had also lost\nbabies during last few days.\n\n424, Hasebroek; sick child; baby died yesterday.\n\n482, Hetts; little daughter very sick; wonder if! Such a sweet little\nthing.\n\nGetting sick to death of doctor; such a terrible amount of brag and\nbig talk, always about himself; always dread his calls; can never get\nso far as to return; a regular thorn in the flesh.\n\nVisits to hospital.\n\nMr. Van der Merwe still very bad; men's ward full of boys; some very\nbad.\n\nMartie Snyman recognised me to-day, and asked me to pray for her;\nmother there too.\n\nMr. Becker funerals; six.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWednesday, September 18.--Bitterly cold night; frost; glorious day.\n\nRegular holiday; did precious little \"leeraarts\" (pastoral) work\nto-day; grand clean up; fine bookcase of big box; grand!\n\nBaby[49] comes regularly now to clean up.\n\nTent very close to-day; hot weather; contemplating building house;\nbusy with estimates to-day; will need about 3,500 bricks; such\nedifice will be real boon when hot weather sets in.\n\nOur kitchen is palatial, and the admiration of the whole camp, and I\nguess hundreds have cast envious eyes upon it. And yet within it is\nbut 4 feet by 7 feet, its height is 5 feet 10 inches; but it has a\npitch roof, with coffee tins beaten out to serve for zinc. It is\nbuilt of good, raw brick, and the walls are 4 inches thick, plus two\nmore inches of substantial clay plaster. It has a window without\npanes, and a doorless doorway, and yet a marvellous structure both in\nworkmanship and usefulness. Total cost about L3. Let me not forget\nits chimney--made of a half-sheet of zinc, and beaten into a cone\n(1s.). Now with my mind's eye I see the structure sparkling in the\ngentle moonbeams. A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Enough!\n\nRigged up church again; little nearer in, and this afternoon three of\nus went and put everything geometrically straight--poles, pegs,\nropes, etc.--to prevent second collapse. We are going to sink heavy\nstones into the ground as anchors, and the whole structure we are\ngoing to make rigid with wire ropes. This all to be done on the\nmorrow. It is going to serve as school; good!\n\nThere must be some two thousand children here, and yet I doubt if\nfifty go to school; pity; children run loose, absolutely neglected.\n\nToo much sickness about; fear the deterioration.\n\nFunerals this afternoon five; all children; \"Heere, maak mij bekend\nmijne einde\" (Lord, make me to know mine end). May those graveside\naddresses bear fruit!\n\nCalled to 104, Hugo's; great sorrow; baby died this morning; poor\nmother; talk about tears rolling down! Let me not think on it!\n\n179, Roelvert's baby; convulsions after measles; also dying.\n\nA mother's heart: the most delicate, mysterious, profound piece of\narchitecture in creation. Let a man not attempt to fathom its depths;\nthere are mazes which he can never pass through; and there are\nrecesses (illuminated, I guess) which he can just barely know of, let\nalone enter.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, September 19.--Two women cleared last night; burghers\nevidently in near neighbourhood. There are always numbers of women\nwho go to hills to collect wood, and for long, weary distances they\ncarry their loads of oven wood, like so many Kaffir girls. It hurts\nto watch them return.\n\nCamp continually getting bigger; there must be some 800 tents now,\nand quite 5,000 souls.\n\nFeel bad at thought of so many thousands whom it is impossible to\nreach just now, because of the sickness all about.\n\nI have been here just a month, and have, during that time, done\nnothing but visit sick and dying.\n\nHospital, too, grown larger; five big marquee tents; began visit\nthere this morning; disturbed by arriving patients and doctor.\n\nFound Martie Snyman dying; dead a quarter of an hour after. We\ngathered round her bedside and committed her spirit into God's safe\nkeeping; poor child! she had such a time of suffering; mostly always\ndelirious; and her mother! Let me not think of it!\n\nMany new arrivals in women's wards; some dangerously ill.\n\nPoor Betty Kruger; fear she won't \"make it.\"\n\nMeant to go again this afternoon, but disappointed; had to take\ncharge of books which had come; great work, and unsatisfactory too.\n\nMeant to have made long visits to New Camp this afternoon; \"Alles\nverijdeld\" (everything fell through).\n\nVisits 432, 482, 268 (old Mr. De V.), 494 (aunt of Miss Van Rooi,\nwho died in hospital), 458, 424, 499, and 503.\n\nWent again with couple of eggs and milk to 432 and 424.\n\nPoor little girl; so very sick, and on ground too.\n\nFound 458 in total darkness; no lights, and little boy dying.\nFoeitog! Borrowed half a candle from Mrs. Van As.\n\nOrdered bricks to-day for my house--3,500, at 1s. a hundred. Hope to\nsee it standing \"moet 'n boog\" (for show) by next week.\n\nSplit in connection with church; old lot near old church-stand\ndissatisfied; some folk hard to please; rather vexing; they want us\nto keep up service at old place as well.\n\nMr. Becker referred matter to me; said I was quite agreeable if there\nwas possibility of drawing two congregations. Mr. Otto may be induced\nto conduct one.\n\nWell, certainly, we have enough people for a double service.\n\nConcerned about Catechism class; there must be hundreds who ought to\nbe confirmed. Concerned also about Sunday school. How are we to\ncollect these thousands! If the sickness in camp would only decrease,\nwhat great things we could attempt.\n\nFound packet Sunlight soap in tent; my ration; large family Van As\ngets two cakes; I, single, whole packet; not very complimentary!\n\nSent parcel books to hospital as library; decided to divide\nmiscellaneous books into four small circulating libraries.\n\nMr. Becker funerals; eight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, September 20.--Early bird; brought over all books from store\ntent; also cask of Quaker oats[50]; very glad of latter; will serve\nout like mad next week.\n\nTent now regular chaos; boxes; feel need of house all the more.\n\nFour circulating libraries--Otto's, Dussel's, Van As's, and Lubbe's.\nReading, however, rather an impossibility here in camp; one has\nalways something to do. What a blessing that everyone has work in\nplenty, because in one's work one can derive a measure of happiness\nand satisfaction; it detracts one's thoughts from the seamy side of\nlife just now.\n\nImmediately after breakfast visited two dying babies, 585, 695.\n\nGreat crowd of children assembled in front of church, several\nhundreds (I hear a weeping and a wailing close by; evidently someone\njust died); hurried thither; gathered children in circle; Psalm 146;\nprayer; address (privilege, obedience, faithfulness); also exhorted\nthem to take good care of church and to be careful of lines, ropes,\npegs, etc.\n\nOrdered 3,500 bricks at 1s. 1-1/2d. per hundred; saw Superintendent,\nwho promised to provide roofing; hope he won't disappoint. Busy whole\nmorning with books.\n\nCalled after dinner Mrs. Pelser; ill and concerned about soul; same\none I had long talks with before; afraid she is still ignorant of\nprimary step, reconciliation with God; spent long while in making way\nof salvation clear; Doppers; tent full; \"Haar Leuze\" (her delight),\nPsalm 62, verse 1, and when I read it aloud I was on the point of\nremarking, \"Nee, wach, ik het die regte vers ver jou--Gez 39, vers 3,\n'Komt gij allen\" (\"No, wait, I have the right verse for you--Hymn 39,\nverse 3, 'Come ye all, sinners come, what dare hold you back\"); saved\nfrom this calamity[51] by mere chance (grace); perhaps they are\nDoppers! and so it was. Narrow shave; second time!\n\nHad to hurry to funerals; eight; Martie and Annie Erasmus; \"Leer ons\nalzoo onze dagen tellen\" (So teach us to number our days).\n\n(Here go the bearers with another corpse.)\n\nMet another brother of Tolllie's; regular reproduction; brought me\nto several new sick people; Mrs. Venter very, very ill. Fear! Asked\nif I should pray for her; \"Ja, Minheer\" (\"Yes, sir\"). \"En wat zal ik\nbid?\" (\"And what shall I pray?\") \"Ach, Minheer, dat die Heere mij\ngouw moet kom haal\" (\"O sir, that the Lord come quick to fetch me\").\n\nPoor old dad! He has lost eight children and grandchildren in camp\nalready, and this is his last daughter.\n\nNeglected hospital again; disgusted; those troublesome books!\n\nHad hurried walk round; Mrs. Kruger dying; prayed, but quite\ndelirious.\n\nMet weeping mother on coming out; \"Minheer, zal minheer tog nie ver\nmij help nie om vir mij man een telegram te stuur, hij is in\nDoornbult Camp. Ik is alleen hier en twee van mij kinders is al\ndood, and nou le die dochtertje ernstig ziek in die hospital?\" (\"Sir,\nwon't you be able to help me to send a telegram to my husband, he is\nin Doornbult Camp. I am alone here; two of my children are already\ndead, and now my daughter lies dangerously sick in hospital\")[52].\nThat is the saddest part of all. Mothers here alone with sick\nchildren, and fathers far off--some in other camps. And then, when\nDeath comes and takes a child, the loneliness of such mothers is too\nhard a burden to bear. Many children here and many who have died,\nnever yet seen by fathers.\n\nLed prayer meeting at young Otto's tent; six young fellows.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday, September 21.--Longish day; called early to see 270 and\n269; again in evening to 270; last stage of consumption; won't last\nlong. (Here go those terrible bearers again! When, O when, will the\nAngel of Death sheathe his scythe and depart out of our midst!)\n\nMade church straight for morrow; fine stout \"doornhout\" (mimosa)\npins--(more bearers, here they go again!)--and two strong wires\nfastened to stones buried in ground (anchors). There are some 24\nschool forms, and these will seat about 400 people.\n\nQuaky about tomorrow; sermon unprepared; meant to have had afternoon\nto self, but quite impossible.\n\nAnother death, 128; croup; Smit; tent removed on doctor's orders\noutside camp while child dying; cruel; entreaties of mother vain;\nchild carried in dying condition; expired little after; when I came,\nfound woman in greatest distress; things bundled outside; indignant;\npoor defenceless, helpless women. May God help them!\n\nVisits 386, 424, 432, 489, 519.\n\nCalled to Mrs. Steyn, 541 (three children gone already); daughter\nsuddenly sick; looks like fever; found Mr. Becker there; poor little\nmother! She is so reconciled and patient in her tribulation.\n\nCalled to tent near shop; Mrs. Theron; great pain; three children,\nsick; no help; dependent on charity of neighbours; no light; God\nalone knows how many tents there are without lights to-night and with\nvery sick inmates.\n\nHospital; talk with Mr. V.d.M.; very sick; delirious somewhat; Psalm\n27, prayer.\n\nGirlie in ward 1 very sick.\n\nIn children's ward found mother and grandmother sitting by bedside\nof dying boy five years; mother broken; after my prayer there was a\ntear glistening in the boy's left eye; pathetic to see mother wipe it\naway as the tears rolled down her cheeks.\n\nIn the upper ward lies a girl[53] of fourteen, with the softest,\nsweetest face imaginable; two clear, languid, blue eyes; very\ndangerously ill; wonder if!\n\nPrayed at bedside; daughter of the mother who asked me to wire to her\nhusband yesterday. Spoke to Superintendent; quite unsympathetic;\nfruitless.\n\nMay God spare that child's life!\n\nMr. Becker funerals; seven or eight, I believe.\n\nCalled in by Mr. Kruger; wife died in hospital this morning; son (16\nyears) buried Monday; another child some days ago; poor fellow; he\nhimself sick; subscribed 5s. to assist him to obtain coffin.\n\nNow for to-morrow's sermon!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, September 22.--Grand day; ideal weather; longish.\n\nUp six o'clock; sermon; sweat; veld; \"Om te doen gedenken\" (To bring\nto remembrance).\n\nInauguration of church; huge crowd; packed; hundreds outside.\n\nImpossible to use even the tiniest bit of notes; \"broekscheur.\" Made\nrather mull of first half; \"Ik gedenk heden aan mijne zonden\" (I do\nremember my faults this day). Introduction and second point more\nsatisfactory; luckily (?) girl fainted; seized opportunity to give\nout hymn; grasped notes to refresh memory; \"Ik gedenk heden aan de\nweldaden des Heeren--God's liefde\" (I remember this day the mercies\nof the Lord--God's love).\n\nFeel the utter insignificance of my best efforts; sore point; no time\nat all to prepare; I tremble when I think of what I venture in\ncoldbloodedness.\n\nAfter service went to 207; saw bedding outside, and knew the worst.\n\"Gister aand, minheer, is zij gestorven. Ach, minheer, zij kon tog\ndie minuut nie afwag nie, zoo haastig was zij om wegtegaan\"\n(\"Yestereen, sir, she died. O sir, she scarcely had patience to wait,\nso eager she was to depart\").\n\nGreat tribulation and bitterness on account of doctor, who insisted\non forcing hot coffee down her throat, and for whom Mrs. Venter was\ndesperately afraid; also on account of his violent conduct and\nharshness in the presence of Death. She could not even die in peace.\n\nMrs. Steyn's girlie very bad; fever; so restless, and so much pain.\n\nThere again in evening; still so restless; no sleep last two nights;\nadvised Mrs. Steyn to send her to hospital; environment disastrous;\ntoo much to remind her of her two brothers and sister, who died last\nweek.\n\nRounds in hospital; girlie No. 1 very bad.\n\nIn No. 4, girlie of Mrs. Van der Berg very low; did not know me\nto-day; too beautiful a child, really; got mother permission to stay\nwith her to-night.\n\nMrs. Bonig's child still alive this afternoon; died towards evening.\nThank God!\n\nAnother little chap passed away quite suddenly in same tent this\nmorning.\n\nAutoharp in convalescent tent.\n\nHurried to funerals; four; large crowd; several hundreds; Rev. 7,\nchapter Mrs. Venter gave as comfort to her people, \"Deze zijn het die\nuit groote verdrukking komen\" (These are they which come out of great\ntribulation).\n\nHurried from there straight to church to lead girls' prayer meeting;\nsome sixty turned up; off the point, though, in their prayers.\n\nAnd now for the cream of the day's work. Announced meeting for young\npeople, 7.15, in church; service of song; borrowed two lamps; scanty\nlight. Found immense crowd; many turned away; threw up side of tent;\nnumbers outside; some 500 young people and several old to watch.\n\nShall never forget how they sang Psalm 146. It was glorious! We sang\nPsalms and gezangen and some \"kinder harp liederen\" (children's\nhymns); and for the last, Gezangen 12, \"op lieder wijs\" (to new\ntune). Beautiful! Short address on Zaccheus--\"Moeilijkheden\"\n(difficulties). The heartiest and most refreshing meeting ever yet\nattended; had to stand in middle all the while, with hardly room to\nturn myself. So delighted that announced another meeting for Tuesday;\nfine moon just now.\n\nGreat point is this--singing sounds lovely at distance, and can be\nheard all through the camp and in hospital, and who knows how many\nhearts are not refreshed as the strains come rolling by.\n\nMr. Becker afternoon service; great crowd also.\n\nNow the day is over!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, September 24.--Seedy all yesterday; no diary; straight to\nbed; hot water from hospital; footbath.\n\nManaged to get half a dozen sheets zinc from Superintendent for\nroofing.\n\nDistributed books to Elders yesterday afternoon.\n\nFelt rather hopeless to-day; so much to do; quite at loss where to\nbegin; inclined just to sit still.\n\nVisited southern corner of camp; Mrs. De Lint poorly; read letter\nwritten by husband.\n\nGave out \"briefies\" for rice to some tents.\n\nAstounded this evening by doctor, \"Well, now, wasn't it fine that I\ngot you the right to grant briefies?\" And this is the Donation Store,\nquite independent of all Government Stores! A gentleman gave Mr.\nBecker L50 for things; these goods arrived yesterday. Really, doctor\ntakes the cake--with baker and all! Told him a few gentle truths\nabout these goods.\n\nLetters from home; hope those groceries of mine will come along all\nright; and that order for L20 worth of stuff[54]. May I succeed in\ngetting the sole right of distribution when that arrives.\n\nChampion[55] writes that at present he cannot fulfil order;\ndisappointing.\n\nOne does long so for something nice--some extras which here are quite\nunobtainable[56]. Dry bread gets a bit monotonous after a while, and\nthe \"vrekvlijs\" becomes nauseous as the days roll by. It thrusts its\nmiserable, lean presence upon us day by day, and now it has become a\ndreaded nightmare.\n\n\"Kerkeraads vergadering\" in tent this afternoon; six Elders to\ndiscuss Sunday services; the grumblers would not rest until they too\nhad their own big marquee tent on the old site.\n\nSuggested that we have only one morning service in new place and two\nafternoon services--one for old people at old place and one for young\nat new place; could take further steps later on for a double morning\nservice if necessary; Elders agreeable; disperse.\n\nFunerals; four; Mr. Van der Merwe died last night; felt sick myself,\nand made fool of myself at graveside; but really could not contain\nmyself as they lowered the remains of Mr. Van der Merwe into grave;\nso big and fine a man; in flower of manhood; wife dead, child dead;\nso gentle and patient in his suffering; felt so drawn to him because\nof his huge helplessness. Hard lines! Hard lines! Poor Nurse Rouvier!\nAfter all these weeks of devoted, patient, hopeful attendance. It\ndoes make one feel rather low. Quite unable to make any sort of\naddress at grave; sorry did not ask Mr. Otto.\n\nWent through hospital; Mr. V.d.B. and Mr. Norval both dangerously\nill; fear the worst; pneumonia; former hard character, but to-day\nquite softened; long talk; not yet saved; prayer; great suffering.\n\nRead Psalm 27 to latter and prayed; very thankful.\n\nGirlie Van der Berg in new ward very low; so weak. May God in His\ntender mercy hear our prayer and restore her!\n\nLenie Steyn; hysterical; delirious all day; last night great\nconsternation; got her into hospital this morning.\n\nGirl opposite her dying; mother's only child.\n\nIn men's ward little boy (14) died too.\n\nSplendid meeting this evening; packed within and without(!).\n\nService of song; crowd half an hour before time; singing can be heard\nall through camp. May many a sad and weary heart have found in our\nsinging a balm for the aching, longing heart.\n\nNow for bed--glorious bed!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWednesday, September 25.--Deathbed; sorrowful topic to write upon,\nand yet why shirk it? Let me attempt what I have never before done--a\ndescription of a deathbed. It is but human to hasten over the tragic\nscenes of life, but this evening I want to tarry.\n\nSomething prompted me to make early visit to the hospital, so went\nbefore breakfast. In first ward went straight to little Mita\nDuvenhagen's bed, and her I found very bad--struggling hard to\nbreathe; so young and yet so bitter a suffering!\n\nFrom there called by Mrs. Van den Berg to new ward, to come quickly,\nas Lenie was dying. I went, and when I entered saw that God was going\nto take her away. Let me not attempt to describe her angelic little\nface of marble white, her beautifully chiselled nose, and her sweet\nlittle mouth! Silently we knelt around her bedside--mother, nurse,\nand I. Of her beautiful blue eyes I have said nothing, for they were\nclosed--the lids gently drawn, and the lashes trying hard to kiss the\nsoft smooth cheeks. \"O God, come and help us! O Saviour, come and\ntake Thy place beside her bed--hold her hand--take her in Thy tender\narms and press her to Thy bosom! Bear her, Saviour, where Thou wilt,\nfor with Thee she is safe. Comfort our hearts and give us to bend our\nheads in humble resignation--Thy will be done. Amen!\"\n\n\"Lenie, Lenie, Lenie, mij kind, jou mammie is hier bij jou, en Jezus\nook is hier om jou hand te hou--moenie bang wees nie, mij kind\" (\"My\nchild, your mother is here, near you, and Jesus too is here to hold\nyour hand--don't be afraid, child\"). Under her weary eyelids she\nlooked at us, and a large tear gathered in her left eye. It glistened\nlike a diamond for a moment, and then became the possession of the\nsorrow-stricken mother. Then we were silent and watched. Slowly and\ngently the lids opened--now again we could look into those clear blue\norbs. Wider--wider--and still wider they grow--uplifted, right away\nbeyond the three forms of clay before her. See how the pupils\ndilate--they seem to swamp the blue! And so for a few short moments\nthey remain. It was a gaze right beyond us to--- what! Will it be\nold-fashioned to suggest \"Angels,\" perhaps! Until I grow wiser I\nshall hold fast to Angels. O, the mystery of the Unknown!\n\nAnd slowly, gently those lids sink once more to rest--to rest\nindeed--for her spirit has fled. Peace, perfect peace!\n\nHow passing strange, how majestic in its simplicity, how weird in its\ntragic stillness--the passing of a Soul--the disunion of Body and\nSpirit! Is this Death? Then may I never fear its shadow!\n\nSunset and Evening Star!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, September 26.--Another day gone. What a day of sorrow and\ntribulation!\n\nSlept like a log.\n\nTook round through camp late last night; heard distressing groans in\ncertain tent; made gentle enquiries; heard this remark after leaving,\n\"Nee, dit is een van die nach police wat hier rond loop\" (\"No, it is\none of the night police wandering about\").\n\nFoundations of house laid[57]; yesterday got use Scotch cart and\nbrought over some 1,000 bricks and stones for foundation; good\nbeginning to-day; now things will go swimmingly if weather remains\nfine.\n\nUnbearably hot to-day; tent untenable; thankful house in course of\nerection.\n\nOld story again; supply boards for coffins stopped, and now there is\nthe pitiful cry of those who seek wood to make coffins for departed\ndear ones.\n\nYesterday old Mr. Duvenhagen came in distress to me; begged from\nSuperintendent, and got him two little boxes[58].\n\nThis morning had to tramp round to get hold of few boxes, for I\npromised Lenie's mother I would provide wood. One does make very rash\npromises sometimes--but anything to comfort stricken heart of\nlonesome mother.\n\nThat Mrs. Van der Berg has now lost her three children; her husband\nsits in Bloemfontein Refugee Camp. This to me so inexplicable, so\nunreasonable, so cruel. Why cannot husband and wife be allowed to go\nin same camp?\n\nWell, I (next to) stole two nice planks in store tent, and what with\nempty condensed milk box and my box which I used as chair, able to\ngive quite small fortune in wood for Lenie's coffin.\n\nBuried her and Mita Duvenhagen (both 14) this afternoon; also two\nsmall children; \"Laat de kinderen tot mij komen en verhindert ze niet\nwant derzulken is het Koninkrijk Gods\" (Suffer the little children to\ncome unto Me, and forbid them not, for such is the Kingdom of\nHeaven).\n\nMita's grave away other end of cemetery (next her brother's), and so\nI went and spoke few words at her grave too; sang \"Voor eeuwig met\nden Heere\" (For ever with the Lord).\n\nJust before funerals went to see Lena Steyn; very low; \"Zien,\nminheer, nou, hoe waar dit was wat zij geze het\" (Do you see now,\nsir, how true her words were?). She always persisted in saying that\nshe was going to die; shall write more of her on another occasion. We\nprayed at bedside and committed her into God's keeping, Psalm 23; but\nshe was unconscious, I think, although her eyes wandered from mother\nto me.\n\nThe procession had started already when I had still to hear wail of\nold man of 76, \"Ach, minheer, waar zal ik tog planke krij; mij vrouw\nis dood, en ik kan nerens kiste krij nie\" (O, sir, where can I get\nboards; my wife is dead, and I can't get wood anywhere?).\n\nLast night carried out some papers in my box I use as chair and burnt\nthem outside. Soon man stood next to me, \"Minheer, zal ik dan nie\ndaardie kisje kan krij nie? Onze ou baby is dood, en ik kan nerens\nvir haar een stukkie hout krij nie\" (Sir, won't I be able to have\nthat little box? Our little baby is dead, and I can't get a scrap of\nwood anywhere).\n\nEarly this afternoon another man came to me in great distress; also\nno wood for coffin. It does seem so bitterly hard.\n\nVisiting whole morning, mostly down New Camp way.\n\nThere is one man always at my back; times a day; came with most\nwonderful request two days ago; wants me to get him a--guess? Baby!\nWife's died last week, and he is now loafing another.\n\nThis afternoon two prayer meetings; men and women; took men's down in\nold church (big tent there now), \"Heere zijt mij genadig\" (Lord, be\nmerciful to me). The women's, I hear, was packed. I had over 100 men;\nvery good, seeing so few men here; nine prayers.\n\nThis evening children's service again; beautiful moon; glorious\nsinging; \"Ik ga heen om u plaats te bereiden\" (I go to prepare a\nplace for you); told about Lenie's deathbed; she is now in the\nmansion prepared for her.\n\nWent straight thence to see Lena Steyn; saw women standing in front\nof tent; heard sobs, and knew the worst. Poor, poor Mrs. Steyn! \"Ach,\nMinheer, ik het daarom nie gedenk nie dat dit oor die helfte zou gaan\nnie\" (O, sir, I really never thought that it would go beyond the\nhalf); had six children; four gone now; husband Ceylon, and she is\nthe dearest little mother in camp almost.\n\nKnelt and prayed, and then mother said, \"Kom, laat ons nog eenmal ver\nhaar gaan zien\" (Come, let us go and see her once more); so went to\nsee Lena once more in morgue tent.\n\nRest after weariness; calm after storm; light after darkness; day\nafter dawn.\n\nShe passed away while the children were singing Gez. 11. While I\nspoke to her (Mrs. Steyn) at tent she was laughing and sobbing\nalternately; and then the thought flashed through her that there was\nno wood for coffin, so I immediately took whole thing into my hands\nand assured her I would provide and see that Lena gets coffin.\n\nAnother rash promise! The Lord only knows where the wood is to come\nfrom! Late this evening, when I took her some cocoa, Mrs. Steyn told\nme that Lena had said that I would provide coffin. So guess it will\ncome out well in end. The presentiments this child had of her death\nand other things simply marvellous. Am going to write at greater\nlength about her when I see mother again.\n\nAnd so these three girlies have gone to Jesus. Now, what has become\nof all our prayers and supplications?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, September 27.--Longish day.\n\nGreat question; where to get material for coffin for Lena? Remembered\nthat I saw that the school was supplied with bookcase, and that the\nbox in store tent (full of matches for distribution) could now be\notherwise used; removed all matches[59], and lo and behold! grand big\nbox empty and ready for carpenter; got matches distributed, each tent\ngot two boxes; Roos set to work, and with two more milk cases (loafed\nat hospital), he was able to make quite respectable coffin. (A decent\nand respectable coffin here made of scrap wood and small boxes fitted\ntogether, and whole coated with preparation of boot blacking and oil.\nA swell, extra fine coffin has a covering of cheap black material,\n1s. 6d. yard.)\n\nSeveral came again to-day seeking wood; some even wanted the\ngalvanized iron for my roof.\n\nAt graves this afternoon saw that they had made a shelf in a grave to\nhold body and prevent ground falling directly upon it; made me think\nof catacombs Rome.\n\nSeven buried this afternoon; stood right in front of Lena's grave.\n\nIt was Mr. Becker's turn, but he was hindered from coming; rather\nglad, for wanted to be there myself to-day; \"En palmtakken waren in\nhunne handen\" (And palms were in their hands).\n\nMrs. Steyn found the lost kinderharp (hymn book) I had given Lena few\ndays ago; found under her pillow in morgue tent this afternoon. When\nI gave it to her she said, \"Maar, minheer, moet tog nie vergeet om\nmij naam in te schrijve\" (Sir, you must be sure to write my name in\nit). So I must remember to do it still. Poor Mrs. Steyn, how\nresignedly she bears her cross! Sang \"Voor eeuwig met den Heere\" at\ngrave.\n\nVisits to-day on other side--269, 268, 487, 379, 178, 171, 262.\n\nCalled at 329, and found it was same tent where I heard such groans\nlast night; imbecile woman, 53 years; very sick; great suffering;\nspoke to her, and she actually called me by my name; glad I found\ntent again; old father of 86; always so keen and hearty at\nwood-chopping.\n\nWeeping woman came to me after funeral; \"Minheer, zal minheer nie zoo\ngoed wees nie om vir Mrs. Engelbrecht in die hospitaal te vertel dat\nhaar kindje dood is, zij word nou begrave?\" (Sir, will you be good\nenough to tell Mrs. Engelbrecht in the hospital that her child has\ndied; she is to be buried now). So another painful task is in store\nfor me.\n\nReceived short note from Assistant Superintendent requesting me to\ndiscontinue briefies for foodstuffs, \"I have now three medical\nofficers who are well able to attend to the sick and needy.\" And this\nman (Superintendent) himself requested and authorised me to issue\nsuch notes but four days ago. Comment on whole matter superfluous. O\nfor a little more logic and consistency with some people! However, I\nsuppose I can interpret these things in my own way.\n\nHeld woman's prayer meeting this afternoon; good audience; \"Viel aan\nde voeten van Jezus en vertelde Him al de waarheid\" (Fell at the\nfeet, of Jesus and told Him all the truth); six prayers; but O! such\nlong and wearying ones; thought men could drag it out, but let me be\nsilent about the women.\n\nHouse 3 feet high; doorway up; grandish.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, September 29.--No diary yesterday; too tired and listless;\neager for bed.\n\nWhat a grand thing to rest after work! Sleep, glorious, blessed\nsleep; feel like writing an ode to extol its virtues. Yesterday\nscorcher of a day.\n\nSpent morning in old quarter; work most wearisome.\n\nSo many who call me in and pour out all their sorrows, and it is so\nterribly hard always to be ready and willing to listen and\nsympathise. One actually grows \"dof\" (dull) from sheer weakness. O\nthe monotony of sorrows and troubles!\n\nCalled in to see woman who had just received news that husband had\nfallen in battle. Such sorrow is too great to realise; one can only\nstand afar off to behold--and weep.\n\nAt 3 p.m. suddenly told that no one to take women's prayer meeting;\nso had hurriedly to go without so much as minute's preparation; quite\nlarge crowd.\n\nMr. Becker played me trick; he took funerals; four I believe, so I\nhad time to make short visit hospital.\n\nDoctor stopped me two days ago, and said the man B---- in hospital\nwished to be left alone; so left him alone; but this evening he has\ngone to meet his God. Could never make him out. Was it ignorance or\nobstinacy or indifference? May God have mercy on his soul.\n\nOld Mr. Norval also died this afternoon; thank God; too terrible to\nsee him struggling with Death; unconscious the last three days; glad\nread Psalm and prayed with him a few days ago.\n\nAnd so our fellow-men around us are carried off by Death; and now\nthey are solving the great mystery of the Hereafter. Stupendous\nthought!\n\nThese same men, women and children with whom I prayed, to whom I\nspoke about eternal things--they know now what we are burning to\nknow. Is there Life after Death? Is there a Heaven? Is there a Hell?\nWhat do the departed do just now? Is there perhaps a purgatory where\nsouls are purified? Is there a Throne above, around which a crowd\nthat cannot be numbered stand clothed in long white robes? What about\nthe palm branches? And a thousand more questions.\n\n\"The just shall live by his FAITH.\"\n\nLast night children's service in lower church; great crowd; \"En tot\nzich zelven gekomen zijnde\" (And when he came to himself).\n\nThis evening similar service in upper church; very bright and hearty;\nMiss Dussel sang hymn and solo part of \"Mannen breeders\" (Hold the\nFort); nice change in programme; accompanied her on autoharp.\n\nThis morning went over to village and exchanged pulpits with Mr.\nBecker; felt quite lost in big, empty church.\n\nOld sermon had to \"bite off spit\"[60]; goodness knows where I would\nhave found time to prepare one.\n\nHad nice chat with Macdonald's father.\n\nGrand dinner; roast mutton and actually a dish full of gravy! Could\nscarce believe my eyes; real gravy; how glorious; and rice too. Think\nof it! Let me be silent about the dish of stewed peaches--I might\nfill pages--a dish fit for the gods. Wonder what the look and smell\nof a vegetable is? Have just faint recollection of such names as\npotatoes, onions, beans, cauliflower, pumpkin, but I get a bit\nblurred when try to discriminate; long absence has stunted my memory.\nBelieve there is a vegetable called beetroot too, and wonder if the\nname cabbage is correct. By the way, what do we call that stuff one\nsometimes puts on bread for breakfast and tea? I believe, too, having\nheard and partaken of a preparation called jam in days gone by. And\nwhat, now what, do they always put in tea and coffee in other places?\nFancy it has whitish colour; have an idea it can be drunk pure too.\n\nAuthority (Assistant Superintendent): \"En wanneer eet julle Boere dan\nbreakfast?\" (And when do you Boers eat your breakfast?)\n\n\"O, ik het laatste in Brandfort breakfast ge'eet; hier het ik schars\ngenoeg vir dinner\" (O, I had breakfast last at Brandfort; here I get\nscarce enough for dinner).\n\nHad nice nap on sofa after dinner; what a noble thing a house is; how\nspacious, how high, how cool! How unnecessarily large people do build\nhouses nowadays.\n\nAt 2.45 had to race back for afternoon service; young people; great\ncrowd (700 about); prepared sermon during the fifteen minutes' walk.\nRecord service; forty-five minutes.\n\nWent through two wards hospital.\n\nMrs. De Wet dying; poor old mother! But she said all along she\nwouldn't get well again; several very sick there.\n\nNow for glorious bed.\n\nP.S.--Not yet; there came wail from hospital; so I went up; as I\nsurmised, Mrs. De Wet \"gone home\"; and shall I soon forget that\nlittle band of women in black returning to their tents while the pale\nsad moon cast its shadows of sympathy!\n\n\"Ach, minheer, het ik nie gezondigd dat ik nie wou zien en geloof dat\nzij gaat sterve?\" (O, sir, did I not sin, in that I would not see and\nbelieve that she would die?)\n\n\"Neen. Dank God liever voor die Liefde in u die u verblind heeft.\nDank God dat gij hebt liefgehad\" (No. Thank God rather for the Love\nwithin which blinded your eyes. Thank God that you have loved).\n\nAnother solving the great problem of the Unknown!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMonday, September 30.--End of month; cannot help remembering that\nthis was our finest, loveliest month in the Boland (Western\nProvince); and here we have been grovelling in the dust.\n\nAnother frightful day of wind and dust; two evils; open the tent to\nventilate, and anon everything covered with layer fine dust; close\ntent and one gets suffocated. And one's clothes! Let me rather change\ntopic.\n\nAfter burdens of yesterday felt more inclined for good quiet rest,\nbut tent too unbearably hot; so decided to do the hospital; there\nknew I would find things cool.\n\nFirst to men's ward; then through three women's wards, and finally to\nconvalescent ward; nice and cool in wards, but grew horribly tired.\nWhat with a word of cheer all round and a straight talk to boot, and\nafter a Psalm, short address, and finally (and hardest of all) a\nprayer--great weariness becomes master, and one feels regularly\n\"pap.\"\n\nHospital grown so large lately; takes few hours to \"do\" it\nthoroughly.\n\nBest of all, one has assurance and conviction such visits are indeed\nsource of comfort and blessing; mindful now of that sick mother in\nNo. 3; so despondent, and how she thanked me after visit; \"Ik voel\nnou weer blij in mij hart\" (I feel glad at heart again). Psalm 115;\n\"Vertrouw op den Heere; Hij is mijn hulp en mijn schild\" (Trust in\nthe Lord; He is our help and our shield); \"De Heere is onzer\ngedachtig geweest\" (The Lord has been mindful of us); beautiful.\n\nTo my utter surprise found Mrs. Fourie in hospital; ailing lately;\nsure this is much best for her. (The Van As's and Mr. and Mrs. F.\nform one family circle here.)\n\nAnyhow, this afternoon simply \"dead off\"; lay on bed till 3 p.m.; and\nyet one always feels uncomfortable to be idle one hour; it feels like\nneglect of duty. What one longs for is possibility to have one day or\nafternoon off regularly; something to look forward to; some time when\none can sit still.\n\nFunerals four (Mr. N., Mr. B., Mrs. De W., and girlie); \"Dood, waar\nis uw prikkel?\" (Death, where is thy sting?).\n\nFelt unhappy and uneasy all through address, for B. had requested me\nto leave him alone. Well, anyway my address was directly for the\nliving and not about the dead.\n\nGirl at door this afternoon; \"Minheer, het min nie vir mij een\nWonderboek?\" (Sir, havn't you got a Wonderbook for me?) \"Hoe'n soort\nboek?\" (What kind of book?) \"Een Wonderboek\" (A Wonderbook). \"Een\nWonderboek!\" (head scratchings) \"Nee, dit het ik tog glad nie. Maar\nhoe'n soort boek is dit?\" (A Wonderbook! No, I havn't that at all;\nbut what kind of book is it?) \"Minheer, daar is tekste in om te leer\"\n(Sir, there are verses in it to learn). \"Maar is dit dan nie een\nBijbel wat jij wil he?\" (But isn't it a Bible you want?) \"Ja,\nminheer, dit is een Bijbel wat ik wil he\" (Yes, sir, it is a Bible).\nNew name for Bible--Wonderboek. Not bad!\n\nAfter tea called to visit very sick old man; long talk; no assurance\nof forgiveness of sins. Spoke earnestly on Reconciliation with God as\nfirst step; am afraid old man disappointed in me; fear he wanted me\nto recite beautiful Psalms and so forth.\n\nNow for line re house; walls nearly done; two windows; to-morrow\nroof; edifice stands \"met 'n oprechte boog' '(with great show); talk\nof day; Pastorie.\n\nJust returned from hospital; fear Mrs. Engelbrecht won't last through\nnight.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 27: Condensed milk.]\n\n[Footnote 28: I had in my innocence written to Mr. Robertson to\nenlist his sympathy on behalf of some people who wished to be removed\nto other Camps where their families were. In this letter I casually\nmentioned the meat affair. In the second letter, to my mother (who\nwas collecting to send me a fresh small supply of invalid food), I\nstated that she was on no account to send such things unless it could\nbe guaranteed that I should have the sole right to distribute. I\nadopted this precaution because I found that the authorities reserved\nfor themselves the right of distributing all goods (foodstuffs) sent\nby private Relief Committees, doing with such as they chose. Needless\nto say, both letters were destroyed.]\n\n[Footnote 29: This can be altogether misconstrued. The \"reasonable\"\nwas only in comparison with the stormy interview of the day before,\nwhen the Superintendent attacked me most fiercely. When I began the\nsecond interview by saying I wished to resign, he changed front\naltogether. It had been purely a game of bluff on his part.\n\nIt would perhaps be well to state here my attitude towards the\nauthorities in Camp.\n\nIt did not take me very many days to see exactly how things stood,\nand I determined to have absolutely nothing to do with these men: to\nask no favours, and to be under no obligation to them for anything.\nOf course, there came days when I was forced, under stress of\ncircumstances, to eat these resolutions.]\n\n[Footnote 30: Martie Snyman.]\n\n[Footnote 31: My great zeal in this matter led me to be rather severe\nand inconsistent; just the same as a teacher who will stand no\nexcuses from his pupils.]\n\n[Footnote 32: Betty Lotz.]\n\n[Footnote 33: This child of four years gnashed all her teeth to\npieces before she died. She obstinately refused all nourishment, and\ntold her mother she did not want to live longer. She was indeed a\nmarvel. I gave the mother beef tea, which was all this child lived on\nfor two weeks. The mother used deceitfully (!) to give it beef tea\nwhen it called for water.]\n\n[Footnote 34: On the ground.]\n\n[Footnote 35: Aunt; she was really the grandmother, though. Reference\nis made later to this same case.]\n\n[Footnote 36: For cocoa.]\n\n[Footnote 37: These ladies never approached me, and yet they might\nhave known that I would naturally know more about the state of the\nCamp than anyone else. The Superintendent led them about--where he\nchose, I suppose. They were regarded with universal contempt by the\npeople. Their report I have not yet seen, but I know this: that the\nSuperintendent was not immediately dismissed as he should have been.\n(This was only done in December.) Perhaps the subsequent extension of\nthe hospital and removal to a better site were due to these ladies'\nsuggestions. I remember, though, that we had quite decent meat (beef)\nduring the few days that they visited the camp.]\n\n[Footnote 38: I had brought with me six tins syrup, a few tins jam, 1\nlb. of tea, and a little oatmeal.]\n\n[Footnote 39: The Rev. J. Steytler, who had also gone to labour in a\ncamp. He was sent away for political reasons.]\n\n[Footnote 40: This was my daily dilemma: Speak out and protest, and\nbe removed or imprisoned--hold silence and [Transcriber's note: illegible word] the\ncoward, and remain in the work. And I chose the latter.]\n\n[Footnote 41: The rule was that a card, with the number of any tent\nwhere medical attendance was desired, should be pinned to the\nChemist's Tent before a certain hour in the morning. Many chose to\nhave no attendance, so great was their fear and dread for two of the\ndoctors. Many, too, in spite of their cards, were never visited.]\n\n[Footnote 42: Dutch idiom, literally translated, \"pull through.\"]\n\n[Footnote 43: This calamity, fortunately, only cast its shadow--it\nnever fell. The Rev. Mr. Becker used to come over every afternoon,\nand continued this labour of love until the end of November, when he\nwas prohibited from visiting the camp any more. How faithful he was!\nHow well I remember the little figure in black flitting hither and\nthither among the tents. We seldom met in camp, but many a time I\nsmuggled into a tent where I had seen him enter, just to learn from\nhim to pray.]\n\n[Footnote 44: Mr. Otto, the Schoolmaster of Dewetsdorp, a God-fearing\nman, with a large heart and a great soul--a blessing to many.]\n\n[Footnote 45: The last day for the Boers to lay down arms, according\nto Kitchener's great proclamation.]\n\n[Footnote 46: Whereon I used to hang out my bedding.]\n\n[Footnote 47: Never was there crueller irony of fate than in this\ndoctor's case. He was altogether unpopular with the authorities, and\nwas at last dismissed for incompetence. When the news of his\ndismissal became known, a petition was drawn up in his lines, praying\nthat he might remain. This was granted. The day I left hospital he\nwas carried in, stricken with enteric--and he died.]\n\n[Footnote 48: Biltong is dried beef. These people were new arrivals.\nMr. Van As and I often remarked to each other that one could readily\ndistinguish the new arrivals from the rest--the former always\nappearing ruddy and in good health.]\n\n[Footnote 49: Baby Van As.]\n\n[Footnote 50: Which I practically stole.]\n\n[Footnote 51: Members of the Afgescheidene Kerk (Doppers) sing only\nPsalms, never Hymns.]\n\n[Footnote 52: This was Mrs. Van der Berg--Lenie's mother.]\n\n[Footnote 53: Lenie van der Berg.]\n\n[Footnote 54: My brother packed a box of groceries for me, and my\nmother bought a fresh supply of invalid food.]\n\n[Footnote 55: Merchant at Bloemfontein, to whom I had written for\ngroceries.]\n\n[Footnote 56: The two shops in Camp contained precious little, and no\nfoodstuffs.]\n\n[Footnote 57: Mr. Van As and Mr. Fourie were the contractors.]\n\n[Footnote 58: How well I remember this incident; how we hopefully\napproached the Superintendent's tent; how he gave two little boxes;\nand how he said, \"That's the way you spoil them,\" as I myself\nunpacked the bottle straw for the old man. (The bottle straw had to\nbe saved for his horse's bedding.)]\n\n[Footnote 59: I got permission first.]\n\n[Footnote 60: Literally from Dutch \"spit afbijten\"--bear the brunt.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.\n\n\nTuesday, October 1.--Village whole morning; barber (at last); came\nback wiser and sadder man; can safely stow away comb and brush for a\nmonth; two packets of candles by piece of luck. Grand dinner; roast\nmutton, rice, mealies, and canned quinces. May I never forget that\ndish of gravy!\n\nFound goods from Champion had arrived; life again; pickles, jam,\n\"domel simmel\" (golden syrup), cheese, and few pounds butter.\n\nSupper sumptuous; good spirits.\n\nWent through hospital wards.\n\nYoung Joubert (20) dying; visited him twice; quite ready; waiting to\nbe taken; found mother at bedside.\n\nOld Mr. Plessis pleurisy; great agony; restless; fretful; fearful;\nfear the worst; wonder if prepared to die?\n\nStraight to convalescent tent; reproaches; \"Ach, minheer, het min dan\nver ons vergeet?\" (O, sir, have you then forgotten us?); Psalm 103.\n\nMrs. V.d.W. very, very bad; greatly comforted; beseeched me to come\nagain.\n\nIn old ward also; some very sick; Mrs. Griesel, Mrs. De W., Mrs.\nSteyn, Engelbrecht--all very low.\n\nFeel more and more to neglect hospital would be criminal.\n\nThen still two other women's wards, where had to read and pray and\nspeak word all round; and finally the children's ward; girlie very\nbad.\n\nAfter rounds (seven wards) felt like king; happy; weary, yet withal\nhappy.\n\nAnd our camp? Total neglect. But will I ever here roll me snugly in\nmy blankets with the satisfaction that all the sick and suffering\nhave been visited?\n\nThere have died up to September in our camp over 500. Appalling!\n\nOnly one buried this afternoon (Mr. Becker); died in hospital.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, October 3.--No diary yesterday; listless to-day also; hot;\noppressive days; one just longs for day to end. Towards evening\n(sunset) usually nice and cool, and wind goes down.\n\nWhat shall I write about? Diary becoming monotonous; too great a\nsameness. Hospitals; visits; sick; dying; funerals; morose topic;\noppressive.\n\nBoer khaki in camp to-day. Result of visit, about a dozen have joined\nforces of the English. Wonder if a worm wouldn't have more\nself-respect! Such characters make themselves despicable and\ncontemptible in eyes of the English themselves. To us it brings\ndeep-down humiliation. Can a man sink so low? Enough.\n\nTwo night ago some women and children cleared off--\"for,\" said they,\n\"lest we starve here.\"\n\nCan a man (let alone a woman--breathe not of a child) remain healthy\nand strong on bread, meat (miserable half-pound), coffee, and\ncondensed milk? And so, when a sickness comes there is nothing to\nfall back upon--no resistance. And with a wasted constitution who can\nbattle against fever, pneumonia, and other things?\n\nAnd for those that grimly struggle through, there is nothing\nwherewith to nourish and strengthen; no real milk; no eggs; wine; no\ndelicacies such as convalescents should be tempted with. About as\nsaddening sight as one can dream of is a peep into the children's\nward--poor wasted, withered little innocents!\n\nMr. Otto buried eight this afternoon.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday, October 4.--Let me have a clean blank page for to-night in\nhonour of my new home! Here I sit in glorious solitude, actually in a\nroom! Four walls, four naked walls, but walls withal--stare down upon\nme with their muddy countenances, and I have an idea that they smile\nupon me in affection--four muddy brown smiles!\n\nAnd so my ideal has been realised; and I am proud possessor of a\nhouse. Really word \"house\"[61] seems too inadequate, too\ninsignificant wherewith to name it.\n\n(Later)--Short joy; rudely awakened to sorrows of life; mother just\ngone by weeping bitterly; went out and took her home to her tent;\ndaughter dying in hospital; Ferreira (admitted yesterday, fever).\nThis morning still conscious when I spoke to her, and when we read\nand prayed together. And now?\n\nHave just returned hospital; father there; girl evidently dying;\nfever 105; quite unconscious; strong, strapping girl of nineteen;\nknelt by bed and prayed; nothing impossible with God; while there is\nlife there is hope.\n\nWill postpone description of house till another occasion; under this\ncloud one's ink gets cloggy and one's pen listless.\n\nSpent morning in hospital, and after--little visiting.\n\nFunerals, five children; \"Laat de kinderen\" (Suffer the little\nchildren). Mother fainted at grave; great consternation.\n\nLarge laager troops close by.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, October 6.--No diary yesterday; spent morning at river[62];\nhour's walk; small party, seven; persuaded Mr. Fourie to join; wife\nbetterish.\n\nForgot for the while there was such a thing as a camp, and in the\nbeauties, rugged and rude, of Nature able to enjoy life once more and\nbanish thoughts of sickness, hospitals, deaths, funerals, etc. The\ngrand old river!\n\nReturned early with Mr. F. and did few hours' visiting.\n\nTo-day most busy and tiring day, as all Sundays are.\n\nService at ten and again at three.\n\nFunerals at 5 p.m., four; after, prayer meeting.\n\nLuckily (!) weather threatening, so announced there would be no\nmeeting to-night; thankful in my soul.\n\nAnd now the gentle drops making music on my roof; really it is too\ngrand; one feels like living again to be in room where you can stand\nupright all over.\n\nMiss Ferreira died last night; buried this afternoon; \"Zalig zijn de\ndooden die in den Heere sterven\" (Blessed are the dead which die in\nthe Lord); large crowd at cemetery.\n\nBut to think that so young and so strong a person should so suddenly\nbe called away; \"Levende gaan zij de eeuwigheid binnen\" (literally,\nLiving they enter eternity).\n\nMiss Van Tonder very, very low in hospital; cannot bear thought of\nher perhaps dying; it will be too, too sad; so young, so good, so\npatient. God only knows!\n\nYesterday eight buried; mostly children.\n\nLet me rather fill pipe; get into bed, and listen to soothing rain\nwithout.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTuesday, October 8.--Getting lazy with diary; effects of comforts of\nhouse, no doubt. Just copied Dr. M.'s list of patients; total 150;\nmostly in new camp; wonder how on earth am to find time to visit\nthese tents; and this is but one of the three doctors' lists! So\none's time is just made up with visits to sick, and for other work\nthere is no opportunity. One gets \"daarom\" (literally, therefore) a\nbit hopeless with the amount of work. O for a few more to help!\n\nHospital runs away with whole morning; and positively cannot neglect\nthat work, and then come the funerals every other day.\n\nBuried four children this afternoon; one girlie I often visited; \"En\nzij brachten kinderkens tot Jezus\" (And they brought children to\nJesus).\n\nOne cannot help smiling sometimes in midst of death; the comic\nelement will crop up everywhere and the sublime verges on the\nridiculous. Old Mrs. Griesel, delirious, \"Ach, minheer, en moet ik\nnou sterve en dit zonder eers een glas karren melk to kry?\" (O, sir,\nand must I die now, and that without one glass of buttermilk?);\nwonder, wonder how many will get well in that fatal ward. Give Miss\nVan Tonder up, also Mrs. Steyn and Mrs. Griesel--but!\n\nFour children struggling with Death just now; among these a tiny\nlittle girl three years--the dearest, sweetest, little cherub\nimaginable. It knocks one over completely to see mother kneeling\nsilently by bedside. There is pathetic element in the utter\nhelplessness of human love. How hard to witness suffering with a\nbreaking heart and to be--helpless!\n\nOur new hospital matron arrived; let us hope for better things\nnow.[63]\n\nFound old Englishman (Hockins) in hospital; chat and prayer in\nEnglish; my first in camp.\n\nBig load of boards arrived this morning; now there will be coffin\nmaterial again for a short season.[64]\n\nTo-morrow afternoon is service, and nothing ready yet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, October 10.--Sad and gloomy day.\n\nEarly visit hospital, and on entering fatal ward saw the two empty\nplaces--Mrs. Griesel and Miss Van Tonder. O, the sorrow, the bitter\nsorrow, of it! Went to morgue tents and saw her again in death who\nhad suffered so long and patiently these last few weeks. Rest after\nweariness--sweet rest at last. But where, O where, are our prayers?\nMay God save me from sin of unbelief and doubt during these days!\n\n\"Nie pijn nie, Minheer L., maar net zoo gedaan\" (No, no pain, Mr. L.,\nbut only so weary). Thus, when I asked her on my last visit if she\nhad any pain.\n\nThat tent too much for me now, and could not enter there to-day. God\nforgive my neglect!\n\nThree others (children) also dead hospital.\n\nWent late last evening to tents in \"infected area\"; found three\nchildren all very bad, and one boy struggling in Death's throes; poor\nlittle chap; he is gone since, and we buried him this afternoon.\n\nThirteen coffins; so sad, so painfully sad. May I never forget the\nweeping crowd around the open graves!\n\n\"En God zal alle tranen van hunne oogen afwisschen\" (And God shall\nwipe away all tears from their eyes); sang, \"Voor eeuwig met den\nHeere\" (For ever with the Lord). And now, where are these dead? What\nwould I not give to have short minute's talk with that good young\ngirl! What would she tell me? We read together so often, prayed so\noften, spoke about enternal things so often. And now! What now? How\ngood and wise of God to withhold from our knowledge some certain\nthings.\n\nOur life here on earth must be one of Faith and Hope.\n\nFeel so horribly low this evening.\n\nVisits in camp, before hospital; again before funerals; also after\nfunerals; but making no headway; hundreds of sick all about, and\nhundreds who can never be visited.\n\nGreat concern yesterday; officials want now to remove my tent[65],\nand I positively cannot do without same; and with all this worry had\nto prepare afternoon service; sudden inspiration and wonderful grace\nto boot; \"Komt herwaarts tot mij alien\" (Come unto me all ye that\nlabour).\n\nService of great comfort to own heart.\n\nSaw Superintendent this morning; inflexible; I am powerless because I\nwas given the roof.\n\nOne has to stoop greatly during these days.\n\nIt hurts, it humiliates, it chafes; and one needs extra grace.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSaturday Night, October 12.--Saw most distressing case yesterday;\nMrs. Herbst, 398; bare and empty tent; one bundle of things; one\nsmall bundle wood; few cooking utensils, and on the floor a bed\n(!)--couple bags as mattress and a few blankets. And there sat the\nmother with hands clasped round her knee and a little girl beside\nher; \"En het jij dan nie ander goed nie?\" (And have you no other\ngoods?) \"Nee, Minheer, dit is al wat ik bezit; hulle het alles van\nmij weggeneem\" (No, sir, this is all I possess; they took everything\nfrom me).\n\n\"En waar is die ander kindje?\" (And where is the other little one?)\n\"Minheer, hij is gister begrave\" (Sir, he was buried yesterday).\nAlone and cast-away; no friends; poverty-stricken. Such sights enough\nto make one's heart freeze within.\n\nCalled at hospital again before afternoon visits to find out tent\nnumber of Nellie van Tonder's parents; no one could tell; so came\naway determined to find tent all same; passed doctor; \"Hullo, Padre,\nforgot to tell you of very bad case 715; afraid you won't find child\nalive though;\" so hurried away to 715; and actually there found\nmyself in very tent I wanted to visit. But I was too late for the\nchild. Carried him away ten minutes before I came. Such is life!\n\"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.\"\n\nInstead of having to comfort and cheer in their loss of loving\ndaughter, had to pray God for grace to bear a new and grievous burden\nof grief.\n\n(Later)--Just returned hospital; a little girl moaning most pitiably,\nso I went to see what was matter; admitted this afternoon.\nInflammation of stomach; fearful pain; such a dear, sweet little\nthing (can hear her moaning just now). Talked to her this afternoon,\nand asked her if she knew Who had made her sick? \"Ja, Oom\" (Yes,\nuncle). \"Wie dan, my kind?\" (Who then, my child?) \"Khaki Oom\" (khaki\nuncle). Collapse on my part.\n\nSix coffins this afternoon; \"Heere, maak mij bekend mijne einde\"\n(Lord, make me to know mine end); great crowd; painful delay; one\ngrave too short; had to sing three long verses while it was being\nlengthened.\n\nTalk of day--Doctor got knocked down in camp this afternoon. Have not\nseen him whole afternoon; offending party marched to gaol; wonder\nwhat the issue will be!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, October 13.--Glorious eventide. What grander than to sit\nstill at perfect rest after burden of a long and heavy day! What a\nday to look back upon! I tremble when I think of what I am compelled\nout of sheer compulsion to venture. Service this morning; \"Deze zijn\nhet die uit de groote verdrukking komen\" (These are they which come\nout of great tribulation). This afternoon, \"Hoe zou ik u overgeven, O\nEfraim? U overleveren, O Israel?\" (How shall I give thee up, Ephraim.\nHow shall I deliver thee, Israel?)\n\n\"Scant and small the booty proved\"--more's the pity!\n\nWhen will I find time to prepare myself decently?\n\nAnyhow, comfort myself with thought that if hearers knew (and no\ndoubt they do) how pressed I am for time, they will deal gently with\nmy scanty productions. For myself, whole subject very unsatisfactory\nand unsatisfying.\n\nImmediately after service; funerals; Mr. Becker unable; seven or\neight, all children; huge crowd; splendid opportunity; \"Gij dwaas\nhetgeen gij zaait wordt niet levend tenzij dat het gestorven is\"\n(Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die).\n\n    There is a Reaper whose name is Death,\n      Who with his sickle keen,\n    Cuts the bearded grain at a breath,\n    And the flowers that grow between.\n\nAfter funerals, girls' prayer meeting.\n\nLast and best of all--Service of Song, evening. Now what on earth can\nbe more beautiful than our meeting this evening? Such a crowd, and\nsuch singing! Ten minutes, John iii., 16. And now the day is over.\n\nAnd the sick? And the hospital? All neglected; too pitiable to\ncontemplate. And Mrs. Grobelaar dying; when, two days ago, visited\nher, said as I drew napkin from face, \"Ach Minheer L., het min. dan\nvir mij vergeet?\" (O, Mr. L., have you then forgotten me?); she was\ndelirious most of day, but when I spoke to her she was quite\nconscious. And how inwardly thankful when I prayed with her; poor\nmother; her days on earth are numbered; both lungs gone.\n\nLittle babe, Van Huyssteen, also dead this morning (mother shot on\ntheir flight by English; babe pined away out of sheer lack of\nnourishment).\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWednesday, October 16.--Getting lazy with diary; mindful of old Mark\nTwain.\n\nHear woman's voice calling \"Ambulance! Ambulance! Ambulance! in 172\nmoet een meisje weggedra wordt\" (Ambulance! in 172 a little girl has\nto be removed). Here go the bearers!\n\n172 is just thirty yards from 177, where I take meals, and next to\n171 old Mrs. Van Straten, whom I regularly visit, and yet I know\nabsolutely nothing of this girl's sickness nor her death till this\nvery minute. Enough to make one discouraged.\n\nOf Monday's work can't remember much except that I found the \"summum\"\nof misery and distress in 678, Pelser's; whole family down measles;\npoverty; filth; baby ill at breast (died yesterday, buried this\nafternoon); sent food, but made her promise faithfully that children\nwould be washed to-day.\n\nWhat horrible thing is dirt! Surely one of greatest gifts is to be\nable to appreciate the \"clean.\"\n\nFunerals again Monday; \"Zalig zijn de dooden die in den Heere\nsterven\" (Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord); so many children\nagain.\n\nVisit old Mr. Du Toit on way home.\n\nNow am I positively dead![66] \"Mijnheer, min. moet mij tog een ding\nbeloove; om als de oorlog verbij is, die preek van min. te laat druk\nenz enz, Om te doen gedenken\" (Sir, you must promise me one thing, to\npublish your sermon on 'To bring to remembrance' when the war is\nover).\n\n\"Kan jij nou meer!\"[67] Really now, after all there is nothing like a\ngood, long, square ear-to-ear grin in this world!\n\nShall I deny, though, that there is just a wee drop of cheer and\ncomfort, huge as the joke is!\n\nYesterday fellow who knocked down doctor returned; fined L5; and\nsince Saturday no one to do his lines[68].\n\nFound 597 very bad; young girl (Kruger); wants to die.\n\n245, Mrs. Du Preez; great pain; died last night, buried this\nafternoon.\n\nTwo little children remain behind; saddening.\n\nBuried six this afternoon; \"Ik ben verstomd, ik deed mynen mond niet\nopen, want Gij hebt het gedaan\" (I was dumb. I opened not my mouth\nbecause Thou didst it). Saw motherless boy and girl weeping at grave\n(Mrs. Oliver, 107, 62, 50).\n\nIn 62 the thinnest, skeletonest babe ever seen. How old and withered\nup these little mites become!\n\nAsked Dr. M. visit 262, and try and get her admitted to hospital.\n\nNext morning actually--I repeat actually[69]--I found her there. Am\nwonderfully thankful; now the old grandmother can take her rest; poor\nold soul; so faithful; so willing, and so gentle always. One can\nunderstand better such sayings as \"Faithful unto Death\" when you\nwatch those around sickbeds here in camp.\n\nFound in 167 young mother (babe); arm very bad; no friends; alone;\nMrs. Van Staden took mercy on her when she arrived ten days ago; all\nrelatives in Norval's Pont Camp. How could she get well here!\n\nGot doctor yesterday to give her note to headquarters, and this\nafternoon, after repeated visits, at length succeeded in getting her\noff to Norval's Pont; poor little soul; may she now find rest for her\nweary, fainting heart. (Feel rather satisfied with myself when I\nthink of her (Mrs. Van Wyk) and Mrs. Grobbelaar!)\n\nSaw this afternoon most marvellous \"en aandoenlijk\" (touching) thing\nin camp.\n\nMrs. Jacobs, 721; little daughter was shot through stomach on their\nflight from English, some three weeks ago, and the child lay 'twixt\nlife and death for days; now she is quite well again; too wonderful\nfor words; \"Minheer, kijk hier!\" (Sir, look here), and the mother\nunrolled a little flannel vest before my eyes. The front part had two\ncruel, ugly holes, one an inch, other almost two in length; the whole\nwas as though dipped in blood. Let me be dumb--words would be wicked!\n\n\"Ja, minheer, die hempie zal ik bewaar als die grootste schat op\naarde, en aan mij kinders en kinds-kinders vermaak\" (Yes, sir, this\nlittle vest I shall cherish as the greatest treasure I have on earth,\nand shall bequeath it to my children and children's children).\n\nSplendid meeting this evening; hearty singing; Joh. iii., 16, last\nSunday; to-night \"Een iegelijk\" (Whosoever).\n\nService this afternoon; \"De Heere is mijn herder\" (The Lord is my\nshepherd).\n\nGlad to be able to go through hospital again.\n\nGood news; quantity of things arrived this afternoon. At last!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFriday Night.--\"Joy cometh in the morning,\" so it is written, and yet\nit was grief and disappointment which came yesterday morning. One\ncase goods missing; and the very one which belongs to me personally.\nAfter all these weeks of waiting--hard, hard luck! Never mind! Read\nfew days ago of remedy for \"lowness of spirit,\" \"neerslagtigheid\"\n(down-heartedness), \"Think of the burdens of some individual you\nknow.\" Excellent! Now let me think of the sorrows of that unhappy\nlittle mother, Mrs. Van Wyk, 167. When last wrote, she had left; but\nyesterday morning she was sent back; papers not in order; and on\ninquiries at office to-day was told point-blank (with a snub in the\nbargain) that she could no more think of going. Such a life; had not\nthe heart to bear the news, for I heard she has been crying all\nday--poor little castaway. Is there no pity? Feel like Kit Kennedy.\nWould there were a bag of chaff somewhere near which I could pummel\nsoundly for half an hour, just to let off steam; just to pummel\nsomething, seeing one cannot pummel somebody; it might ease the\nstrain.\n\nWhy, this innocent creature, with bandaged arm and suckling at\nbreast, she couldn't hurt a fly if she tried; and yet, and yet all\nthis worry, all this endless trouble and disappointment, just to get\nher from here to her mother in Norval's Pont--and now? Let me not\nthink on it! She will eat her heart away in sorrow, and no doubt soon\nwill be at rest in a bit room six feet by three.\n\nIn hospital yesterday, found young girl (20), Henning's, dying;\nenteric; so young; so strong; in flower of life; it seems too awful,\ntoo contrary, \"Levend zij den dood in\" (Living they enter eternity);\nand others again, little infants, will struggle and battle for life\nfor weeks and weeks, regular \"Kannie doods\" (Cannot dies, literally).\nGreat mystery!\n\nMother at bedside; told me she said she was going to Jesus; \"Ma, jij\nhet nou ver mij twintig jaar ge had en nou wil die Heere vir mij he\"\n(Mother, you have had me twenty years, and now the Lord wants me);\nquite unconscious when we prayed; poor mother, the helplessness,\nutter helplessness of Love!\n\nIn other ward Mrs. Du Toit and Mrs. Grobbelaar very, very bad; saw\nthe worst, and prayed for them--and the end? End is this:--that this\nafternoon we buried these three, and sang over open graves, \"Ik\ngeloof een eeuw'ge leven\" (I believe in life everlasting), \"Ik ga\nheen om u plaats te bereiden\" (I go to prepare a place for you).\n\nI often marvel that never yet been at loss for suitable text to talk\nabout at graves. In beginning I used to have half-hour's quiet\nbefore funerals to meditate; now my meditation comes off as we slowly\nwind to the sacred acre; and yet there has always been \"sufficient\"\nand \"according to the need.\"\n\nVisited old Mrs. Dussels, mother of Mrs. Grobelaar--\"zoo tevreden,\nzoo stil, zoo olijmoedig, door God's genade\" (So content, so quiet,\nso glad, through God's grace).\n\nVillage to-day; jam; autoharp tuned; roses; treat for supper;\n\"rooster koek (scones) and grape jam.\n\nAfter supper called to sick old man; old Mr. Hennings very, very\nweak; words of cheer; prayer; wonder if I shall ever see him alive\nagain; don't think it; tent 8.\n\nN.B.--So all my brag of last day \"nul en van geene waarde\" (null and\nvoid).\n\nMrs. Grobelaar, dead and buried.\n\nMrs. Van Wyk, \"As you were.\"\n\nMoral:----\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSunday, October 20.--The blessedness of eventide, the satisfaction\nafter long and hard day's work; delicious feeling of rest and\ncontentment; soothing is such solitude.\n\nYesterday rather \"offish\" whole day; felt just as though \"it wouldn't\ncome.\"\n\nVisited family of Afgescheiden people; sterling Christian old lady,\nMrs. Van der Heever.\n\nIn so far am at rest now with regard Mrs. Van Wyk; with doctor's help\nwe have got her and baby safely lodged in hospital; some consolation\nanyhow.\n\nIn fever ward found Mrs. Olivier dying; fine, strong woman. How\ncruel and relentless is Death; prayed at bedside; quite unconscious,\nand passed away some minutes after.\n\nVery painful task yesterday, matter which has been awaiting\ninvestigation some days already. Young girl of sixteen ran away to\nRiver with view to getting into British lines. Bad character since\nlast year, when British entered Bethulie. Sent with mother to\nBloemfontein Camp on that account by military. Weeks ago she was\nbrought back from river, but refused to return to mother; found she\nwas staying with notorious villian E----, whose wife ill in\nhospital....\n\nYesterday afternoon Mr. Becker, Elder du Toit, and self straight talk\nwith E----. But oh, what a blackguard he is, and how devilishly good\nand obedient! Made himself out a second good Samaritan.\n\nTook her to mother; willing to forgive and receive her back, if she\nis truly repentant and promises to remain and obey. And now? The\nLord only knows. Mr. Becker promised to call this afternoon; must\nhold eye on her; must make her feel and know that we desire only her\nwelfare. Feel convinced that unless we get her converted to God\neverything will be in vain.\n\nHurried off to village; breakfast parsonage; return with magnificent\nleg of mutton and salad; flowers.\n\nChurch service soon after; fortunately could use sermon prepared for\nlast Wednesday afternoon, \"Het leven is mij Christus, het sterven is\nmij gewin\" (For me to live is Christ, to die is gain). Splendid\ncongregation at both places.\n\nVisit Ottos; boy very, very bad; enteric; fear worst; prayer.\n\nAfter dinner, repose and preparation for afternoon service; restless\nhour and half with no progress; 110 texts; no go, so in despair at\n2.30 got up, and after bit prayer decided to preach to young people\non \"En de Heere keerde zich om en zag Petrus aan\" (And the Lord\nturned and looked upon Peter); immense crowd; wonderfully helped.\n\nFunerals four; very large crowd; hundreds; splendid opportunity\nagain; \"En de dooden werden geoordeeld naar hetgeen in de boeken\ngeschreven was\" (And the dead were judged out of the things which\nwere written in the books). We are all busy, each with his own book,\nand each day we add a page; but one day, like with these dead, we\ncome to our last page. What have we written? How do we write? When we\nbecome God's children, God writes in letters of red--with Christ's\nblood as ink--over the pages of sin we have till now written,\n\"Cleansed in Jesus's blood,\" and thence we write only to the glory of\nGod. And the little children we bury to-day--they too have their\nlittle books completed, but I believe there was an angel to hold the\npen of each child, and that therefore their little books will be pure\nbefore God.\n\nAfter funerals, girls' prayer meeting; very enjoyable gathering;\nregulated prayers somewhat; first for our own special needs, second\nand third for our camp--sick, weary, sorrowful, careless,\nunconverted, hospital; fourth and fifth, relatives and friends far\naway; Land en Volk.\n\nTea, and at 7.15 our evening service of song (went to tea at 6.30,\npeople already going to service).\n\nGlorious singing, place inside and outside (?) simply packed;\nreserved seats for nurses, who arrived few minutes late; \"Prys den\nHeere\" (Praise the Lord) again; temptation too great; sudden\ninspiration.\n\n\"Wederzien\" (God be with you) beautifully sung; also several\nkinderharp; so hearty, so enjoyable; quarter-hour over time;\nannounced next meeting Tuesday night (D.V.).\n\nAnd now the day is over.\n\nMr. Becker had huge crowd in lower church this afternoon while I had\nyoung people. May God's Word not return to Him void!\n\nAnd now for a good old pipe, and a few good long thoughts of home,\ndear ones, and friends.\n\n(This almost long enough for sermon, and needs only the Amen!)\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThursday, October 24.--Long break, four days gone by; but one day is\nlike the other except that on alternative days I take the funerals;\nfor the rest, each day is like preceding morning, noon, and\nafternoon--sick! sick! sick!\n\nO for a change in my work! The continual cry is \"Minheer, kom tog\nhier\" (Sir, please come here), \"Minheer, gaat tog daar\" (Sir, please\ngo there), and one grows so weary of scenes of suffering and sorrow;\nalways red and tear-stained eyes; always Love, helpless, hopeless,\nimpotent, despairing; always face to face with Decay, Change, Death;\nalways the same close, stifling, little tent.\n\nSuch a life here as \"leeraart\" (chaplain) full of dull, oppressive,\nburdensome, wearying, saddening hours. O the monotony, the horrible\nmonotony of my work. How welcome the hour of sunset! How blissful to\nlay me down to sleep! Thank God for his unspeakable gift of\nsleep--that period of forgetfulness, of rest, of void.\n\nAnd yet let me confess, can there be any work grander, more glorious,\nthan just this work of mine? How one can revel in it! The unspeakable\nbliss of being able to ease the burdens of one's fellow-men--the\nsupreme honour of being able to be a blessing. Surely the purest\npleasure here on earth--to bear one another's burdens.\n\nTo-day a grievous, burdensome day--full of worry and trouble.\n\nFound that my tent had been unceremoniously pulled down and removed\nduring my morning visit in camp.\n\nHurried home to find things lying in dire confusion, and unprotected.\n\n\"Ai, maar dit was ook genoeg om'n mens regtig moeilijk en nukkerig te\nmaak\" (Ah, but it was enough to rouse and irritate a person). But\nwhat an utter absence of the faintest traces of some respect and\ndeference. There are men whose cold-blooded brutishness and\nirreverence knock one over completely. One's person, one's\nprofession, is no guarantee, no safeguard--nay, I verily believe some\nglory and revel in the act of making a fellow-creature miserable.\n\nSo I sent in my resignation on the spot. \"The indignity which I had\nsuffered at the hands of the authorities makes it impossible for me\nto continue in my office.\"\n\nAnd of course this made a mighty change, and there were explanations\nand apologies, etc., and at 1 p.m. I had another tent, and my\nresignation safe in drawer.\n\nMay I never have occasion to undergo such a mental, internal struggle\nagain. One positively has need of extra grace each day, so much as\nregular supply and so much extra.\n\nBut now day is over and the turmoil is over. Thank God!\n\nFunerals four; \"In het huis mijns vaders\" (In my Father's house);\nfelt offish; visited old Thomas du Toit; fear he won't make it.\n\nThence old Mr. Van der Merwe; dying.\n\nToo dead beat to go to Mrs. Van der Berg, who I believe is dying.\n\nGirlie 169 also in Death's throes; horrid, cruel, wicked fever.\n\n168, girlie, pneumonia; wishes to die. \"Minheer, ik wil tog liever\nbij Jezus wees, hier is dit al te zwaar\" (Sir, I would much rather\nbe with Jesus; here it is too hard).\n\nVisited Mrs. Van der Walt, 184, who lost three children some weeks\n(in twenty-four hours); also old Mr. Venter; alone; wife and two\ndaughters died few weeks ago; poor old fellow! what cup of suffering.\n\nAt the graves spoke to mother, \"Dit is nou mij zesde, minheer\" (This\nis now my sixth, sir).\n\nSeveral in hospital dead too.\n\nVery sorry about old Mr. Hockins (he had died); did not visit him\nduring last few days.\n\nHospital removed to-day; right out of camp; great undertaking. Will\nmean so much more time lost for me.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 61: Size of this house (!), 10 feet by 7 feet; height,\n7-1/2 feet.]\n\n[Footnote 62: The Orange River is an hour's walk from Camp.]\n\n[Footnote 63: This is no reflection upon the two nurses, Miss Rouvier\nand Miss Roos, who had the management of the hospital. The arrival of\na new matron simply meant more help.]\n\n[Footnote 64: These boards were sold at 7s. 6d. a piece to the\npeople.]\n\n[Footnote 65: This room was built at my own expense, but I was\nobliged to ask the Superintendent for six old sheets of galvanized\niron for the roof. When the building was finished, I was told, to my\ndismay, that my tent would now have to be given up, as I had been\ngiven a roof.]\n\n[Footnote 66: Exclamation of amusement--a literal translation from\nthe Dutch.]\n\n[Footnote 67: Literally again, Can you want more?]\n\n[Footnote 68: Two very sympathetic doctors came about ten days later.\nOne was Dr. Stuart, the other's name I do not remember.]\n\n[Footnote 69: This emphatic surprise because of the great dislike\nthat was usually shown to accept dying patients.]\n\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\nHere the Diary ends abruptly.\n\nThe last entry is Thursday, the 24th October.\n\nI continued work until the Sunday following; but after the services\nof the day I felt a little more than simply tired. On Monday,\nhowever, the funerals had to be taken in the afternoon. That was the\nlast duty done in camp. Then I knew enteric was upon me, and on\nFriday, the 1st November, they carried me into hospital.\n\nAfter more than a month in hospital, during convalescence (but while\nmentally affected) I ran away to the Van As's. It was a case of\nmental delusion. The whole issue of the war depended upon me--could I\nbe kept in hospital, then the English would win; was I allowed to\nescape, the Boers would win.\n\nAfter ten days in camp again (for I was wisely left alone), it slowly\ndawned upon me (while waiting for a permit to return home) that every\none had been bought over to conspire against me. So I left the camp\none evening after dark. Mr. Becker was the only man to be trusted, and\nto the Beckers forthwith I fled.\n\nIn another ten days my brother arrived to take me home.\n\nDuring these days of blank, my chief pastime was to recite the Burial\nService.\n\nWhen once home, complete recovery came speedily.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE TO CONCLUSION.\n\nA.--Three subjects there were which, while writing the Diary, I\ndecided to treat fully later--\"The Daily Funerals,\" \"The Sanitation,\"\nand \"The Officials.\" This could be done from memory, and could well\nstand aside while devoting my time to the daily experiences.\n\nThere is, however, too much of the morbid in the Diary already\nwithout wilfully adding more, so \"The Daily Funerals\" is let alone.\n\nThe second will be too disgusting, so it must stand over too; and as\nfor \"The Officials,\" two have since died (December, 1901--enteric),\nand so that chapter as well may not be written.\n\nB.--One word more on the mortality of the Camp. Here is the official\nrecord of the deaths:--\n\n1901--May, June, July       47\n      August               175\n      September            236\n      October              154\n      November             236\n      December             276\n1902--January-March        183\n                         -------\n          Total          1,307\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Becker, however (who made a point of noting down the\nexact number of deaths each day) gives 206, 246, 157 as the totals\nfor August, September, October respectively. The amended grand total\nwould then come to 1,351.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:\n\nVariant spellings have been retained.  In a few instances, punctuation and\nspelling errors have been corrected.  These are listed below.\n\n1) In Footnote 20, the original reads: \"The flour given was good for the\nbread was usually excellent.\" A comma has been added.\n\n2) In Chapter II, page 16; the original reads \"A cenus taken lately\".\n\n3) In Chapter II, page 39; the original reads \"same\none I had long tallks with before\".\n\n4) In Chapter II, page 49: the original reads \"so had hrriedly to go\".\n\n5) In Chapter II, page 52: the original reads \"What one longs for is\npossibility to have on day or afternoon off\".\n\n6) In Footnote 51, the original reads: \"... sing only Psalms. never\nHymns.\" A period has been replaced with a comma.\n\n7) In Chapter III, page 58: the original reads: \"you won't find child\nalive though;;\".\n\nEND OF TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES","title":"Woman's Endurance","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":25012}