: Campaign Pictures of the War in South Africa (1899-1900) Letters from the Front by Hales A G Alfred Greenwood - South African War 1899-1902 Personal narratives Boer War

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PAGE WITH THE AUSTRALIANS. AUSTRALIA ON THE MARCH 1 WITH THE AUSTRALIANS 6 A PRISONER OF WAR 15 "STOPPING A FEW" 29 AUSTRALIA AT THE WAR 38 AUSTRALIA ON THE MOVE 48 SLINGERSFONTEIN 60 THE WEST AUSTRALIANS 69

AMONG THE BOERS. IN A BOER TOWN 75 BEHIND THE SCENES 83 A BOER FIGHTING LAAGER 90 THROUGH BOER GLASSES 104 LIFE IN THE BOER CAMPS 116

WITH GENERAL RUNDLE. BATTLE OF CONSTANTIA FARM 127 WITH RUNDLE IN THE FREE STATE 149 RED WAR WITH RUNDLE 159 THE FREE STATERS' LAST STAND 174

CHARACTER SKETCHES IN CAMP. THE CAMP LIAR 194 THE NIGGER SERVANT 199 THE SOLDIER PREACHER 207

PRESIDENT STEYN 212 LOUIS BOTHA, COMMANDANT-GENERAL OF THE BOER ARMY 218 WHITE FLAG TREACHERY 224 THE BATTLE OF MAGERSFONTEIN 229 SCOUTS AND SCOUTING: DRISCOLL, KING OF SCOUTS 242 HUNTING AND HUNTED 253 WITH THE BASUTOS 264 MAGERSFONTEIN AVENGED 280 THE CONDUCT OF THE WAR 289 HOME AGAIN 299

Australia's Appeal to England.

We grow weary waiting, England, For the summons that never comes-- For the blast of the British bugles And the throb of the British drums. Our hearts grow sore and sullen As year by year rolls by, And your cold, contemptuous actions Give your fervent words the lie.

Are we only an English market, Held dear for the sake of trade? Or are we a part of the Empire, Close welded as hilt and blade? If we are to cleave together As mother and son through life, Give us our share of the burden, Let us stand with you in the strife.

If we are to share your glory, Let the sons whom the South has bred Lie side by side on your battlefields With England's heroes dead. A nation is never a nation Worthy of pride or place Till the mothers have sent their firstborn To look death on the field in the face.

Are we only an English market, Held dear for the sake of trade? Or are we a part of the Empire Close welded as hilt and blade? If so, let us share your dangers, Let the glory we boast be real, Let the boys of the South fight with you, Let our children taste cold steel.

Do you think we are chicken-hearted? Do you count us devoid of pride? Just try us in deadly earnest, And see how our boys can ride. We are sick of your empty praises! If the mother is proud of her son, Let him do some deed on a hard-fought field, Then boast what he has done.

A nation is never a nation Worthy of pride or place Till the mothers have sent their firstborn To look death on the field in the face. Australia is calling to England, Let England answer the call; There are smiles for those who come back to us, And tears for those who may fall.

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