CHAPTER VII 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 



Before the whole trip was over, and before we 

 had parted at Bulawayo, we were on quite friendly 

 terms, and I often had a quiet chat with W.-S. 

 concerning the rebellion. He gave me a very 

 interesting account of how Kemp's commandos 

 got through from the Transvaal to join the 

 Germans and Maritz, and he always maintained 

 that the latter was a fine fellow. When he saw 

 me smile, he said, " Of course, I don't expect you 

 to think so." He told me that at first the Germans 

 had made much of them, especially of Maritz, 

 Kemp, and the other rebel leaders. For himself, 

 he had a very poor opinion of the German troops, 

 and of their officers he spoke with great dislike. 

 To a smart Dutchman like W.-S., bred and born 

 in the veld, I can quite imagine how very useless 

 the heavy, stolid German troops must have 

 appeared in such a country as German South- 

 West. The German is generally a poor bushman, 

 and as likely as not gets lost a few hundred yards 

 from his camp if he has no nigger with him. 



For Major Franke, W.-S. had no more enthusiasm 

 than had the German soldiers. Franke, he said, 



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