The horse was half the Centaur and quite the life of
him. Small and wiry, he was able to jog along fifty and sixty miles a day
for several days in succession, and when the occasion demanded it, he was
able to attain a rate of speed that equalled that of the ordinary South
African railway train which, however, makes no claims to lightning-like
velocity. He bore all kinds of weather, was not liable to sickness except
in one season of the year, and he was able to work two and even three days
without more than a blade of grass. He was able to thrive on the grass of
the veld, and when winter killed that product he needed but a few bundles
of forage a day to keep him in good condition. He climbed rocky
mountain-sides as readily as a buck, and never wandered from a path by
darkest night. He drank and apparently relished the murky water of
mud-pools and needed but little attention with the currycomb and brush.
He was trained to obey the slightest turn of the reins, and a slight
whistle brought him to a full stop. When his master left him and went
forward into battle the Boer pony remained in the exact position where he
was placed, and when perchance a shell or bullet ended his existence, then
the Boer paid a tribute to the value of his dead servant by refusing to
continue the fight and by beating a hasty retreat.
In the early part of the campaign in Natal the laagers were filled with
ox-waggons, and, in the absence of tents which were sadly wanted during
that season of heavy rains, they stood in great stead to the burghers.
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