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Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

On the Heels of De Wet

T >> The Intelligence Officer >> On the Heels of De Wet

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The first information which came in to headquarters, as the whole
force moved rapidly forward, came from the Basuto scout, whom the
Intelligence officer had relieved of his obligations to the
Intelligence guide as soon as the latter had been dismissed. His
information was serious: he reported that a party of twenty-five Boers
had crossed our trail just about eight o'clock, and, travelling fast,
had gone in a north-easterly direction. The brigadier cross-examined
the man closely, and seemed satisfied as to the truth of his story.

_Brigadier_ (_turning to his staff_) "We shall be fairly in it, if we
have any luck, I don't think that these fellows who have passed behind
us are De Wet's actual advance-guard. They are probably a patrol that
he has thrown out to look after his exposed flank. He knows that we
were at Luckhoff, and he would not have moved without telling off some
one to watch us. Now, these people have seen us and passed behind us;
but as we have luckily struck and covered the trail of the advance
squadrons, they don't know that we have a force six hours ahead of us.
Probably they have sent back to De Wet, who will be from one to two
hours'[41] distant from them, to inform him, if he puts a spurt on, he
can be through the Fauresmith passes before us. If only the Mount
Nelsons can hold him, we shall get even with him yet."

By nine o'clock the Fauresmith hills began to loom up above the dead
level of the veldt, and as the trail of the advance squadrons was
still steady and we had no news of them, there was every reason to be
satisfied that they had successfully made their goal. The situation at
least was increasing in interest. A little after ten the column had
reached the foot of the Fauresmith hills, and the brigadier wisely
called a halt, determined not to commit his troops to the hilly tracts
until he had heard something from his advance squadrons.

But the next information regarding the enemy was not destined to come
in from the advance-guard. The column had just off-saddled when a
dishevelled trooper with a blanched face galloped up to the tiny group
of trees beneath which the brigadier and his staff had dismounted.

_Brigadier._ "Hullo, here's a man who has seen his own ghost. We shall
have some news now. Who are you?"

_Trooper._ "Please, sir, I belong to Mr Crauford's patrol--it has been
annihilated!"

_B._ (_soothingly_). "Now dismount, and tell us all about it. What do
you belong to!"

_T._ (_dismounting_). "Mount Nelson Light Horse, sir."

_B._ "I thought so; now let us have the story."

_T._ "Well, sir, there was Mr Crauford, and Sergeant Mullins, and----"

_B._ "Never mind their names. How many men had Mr Crauford with him?"

_T._ "About six, sir; and I am the only one left alive to tell the
tale!"

_B._ "How truly awful! and if you don't get on with it your tale will
outlast all of us as well. (_Roughly_) Now, throw it out,--what
happened?"

_T._ "Well, sir, you see that farm over there (_pointing to low seam
of grey hills about four miles distant on our left flank, at the
bottom of which nestled a homestead_), we were riding up to it
quiet-like, when suddenly, as we were passing a kraal, up jumps about
fifty Boers and calls us to ''ands up.' We wouldn't ''ands up,' and
they shot us down to a man, and----!"

_B._ "Wait--how did you get away from the general battue?"

_T._ "I don't exactly know, sir; I kind of found myself galloping for
all I was worth, and the bullets just 'umming that thick and awful,
that I kept on asking myself the whole way home 'ow it was I managed
to escape!"

_B._ "You may go. Stop! where's your rifle?"

_T._ (_for the first time realising that he had not got a rifle_). "I
must have dropped it, sir, in the scrimmage--it was awful 'ot, sir!"

_B._ (_brutally_). "Off you go; you ought to be ashamed to talk to
honest men. (_Then turning to the brigade-major._) Look here, Baker,
though I don't believe the man's story _in toto_, or would believe any
man who in panic had thrown his rifle away, yet something has
happened, and either our men on the left have fallen in with the party
of Boers who crossed our trail this morning, or we have let slip the
whole 'bag of tricks,' and De Wet is through us. Just you take another
squadron of the Mount Nelsons and see what has happened on the left.
You can also take the pom-pom. Unless the enemy are in strength don't
stay out there long, as I shall probably move on before you are back.
Anyway I shall leave a signal-station on the hill above us!"

_Brigade-Major._ "Very good, sir."

_B._ "Wait a moment. As the rain-storm has dished my original plans, I
shall probably, as soon as I hear from Fauresmith, send half my force
direct to the Kalabas bridge, and take the rest to support the Mount
Nelson squadrons. But I can make no definite statement until I have
some idea of De Wet's force. Gad! I wish I knew where Plumer might be
at this moment, or whether there is any one behind De Wet. Without
information or maps, this is an uphill game!"...

In half an hour the brigade-major's little command was within a
thousand yards of Liebenbergspan farm. Here they met five woe-begone
men tramping wearily towards them. They were Crauford's patrol,
stripped of most of their clothing, and desired by the Boers to make
their way back to their column with all compliments of the season. The
subaltern was very dejected, for he was a boy of the right spirit; and
it is a strain upon one's dignity as an officer to be turned loose on
the veldt with only a flannel shirt as a dress, and a pair of putties
tied round the feet in the place of boots. It was not his fault: he
had sent on a man to reconnoitre the farm. This man was our friend who
had come in in the morning. As he failed to search the kraal, the
Boers had let him past, and had waited for the main body of the
patrol, which they had "held up" at short range. The scout, who had
passed through them, heard the shouts of "Hands up!" and galloping for
dear life, had been able to get clear and pitch the brigadier his
terror-bred fable. Apart from taking their clothes, the Boers had
treated the prisoners well. They were a party of fifteen men, very
poorly clad but well mounted, under a commandant of the name of
Theron. Crauford, who was a young English Africander, had, while a
prisoner, made good use of his time. His captors did not realise that
he understood Dutch, and he had gleaned from their conversation that
they were, as the brigadier had anticipated, part of De Wet's screen.
They were very much upset at the size of the British column, and had
not been prepared for its presence so close to De Wet's line of
advance. But as they discussed it among themselves they considered
that De Wet would be in front of the column, proving that they had no
knowledge of the two squadrons detached during the night. All this was
such valuable information that Baker dismounted a man and sent
Crauford back to the brigadier as fast as he could gallop. He himself
kept on, as Theron's party was still in occupation of the farm.

The farm stood at the foot of a low brae. It was only a rise, and as
the Boers appeared to take no notice of our approach, not even
troubling to efface their presence, the brigade-major determined,
under cover of his pom-pom, to gallop over it. Half a squadron on the
right, half a squadron on the left. He called up the captain
commanding the squadron and gave him his instructions. The man at once
began to make difficulties, and suggested a different mode of attack.

_Brigade-Major_ (_severely_). "I have told you what I want you to do.
Kindly go and instruct your troop-leaders. As soon as you are
extended, canter, and improve your pace when you get sufficiently
near. That knoll on the right and the rise on the left both command
the farm, and you will find that the enemy won't stand. Good Heavens!
man (_as the captain again began to demur_), there are only about
twenty of them; surely you are not afraid!"

The man did not mean going, neither did his squadron. They dallied
over extending, and it was quite a quarter of an hour before they
began to move forward. The brigade-major dashed to the head of the
right half-squadron and tried to infuse some little enthusiasm into
them. But no; it was the very worst squadron of the Mount Nelsons, and
when the brigade-major commenced to gallop he found that he was only
followed by four men. But this even, added to half a belt from the
pom-pom, was sufficient for the Boers: they ran to their horses, which
were grazing by the kraal, mounted, and galloped over the rise,
without firing a shot. As vultures swoop down upon carrion, so the
Mount Nelsons, as soon as it was seen that the rise was clear of the
enemy, swarmed down to the looting of the farm. The brigade-major's
face was a study when he and the Mount Nelsons' captain met in the
verandah. All that he said would not add to the artistic sense of this
narrative; but he closed his remarks with the following: "If I catch a
man of your regiment touching a single article in this farm I will
shoot him myself. Get your men back to their positions, sir. They
won't fight; I'll be d----d if they shall loot!"

In war situations develop rapidly, and the brigade-major had barely
dismissed his now sulking junior, when a silver glitter from above the
halting-place of the brigade brought the laconic message, "Return at
once without delay." Precisely at the same moment a messenger came
dashing down from the rise above the farm, and excitedly reported that
a long line of Cape carts was rapidly crossing the left front. The
brigade-major started the squadron back at a trot, and stayed behind
for a few moments to make an investigation of the new development. It
was quite true, six Cape carts and about thirty men were crossing his
front from right to left at a good pace. They were a long way off, and
even if he had not had peremptory orders to return, it would have
been hopeless to have attempted to pursue them with such material as
he had in hand.

_Brigade-Major_ (_snapping his glasses back into their case_). "You
may put it down, Mr Intelligence, in that voluminous diary of yours,
that our quarry has escaped. They have slipped us. Come along; we must
canter on and see what the brigadier has in pickle for us!"

But, as subsequent events were to prove, the brigade-major for once
was in error....

We found the brigadier impatiently awaiting us, with half the battery
hooked in, and the 20th Dragoons standing to their horses. He did not
wait for rest or explanation; but as soon as we cantered in with the
pom-pom, gave the order for the column to advance. The mule-convoy had
come in in our absence, and it had orders to follow us as best it
could.

_Brigadier._ "Look here, you fellows; I really am sanguine for the
first time since I have been engaged in this kind of 'follow your
leader.' Just about half an hour after you left, our friend the
turkey-expert of last night sent in a red-hot man with a message that
he had held up the main body of a Boer commando in a pass just west
of Fauresmith. He wasn't in position to stop the advance-guard, which
went through with about six Cape carts; but he had since captured the
Boer picket on the pass and had turned the main body--consisting of
about thirty Cape carts and 400 burghers--back, and when he wrote they
were halted in Fauresmith."

_Brigade-Major._ "We have seen that advance-guard. But is there no
other way by which the enemy can get to the Riet: by swinging round
between Fauresmith and Jagersfontein, for instance?"

_B._ "We can't hope that he will stay and wait for us in Fauresmith.
Of course there will be a way round; but he may delay, he may try and
force his way past the turkey-expert, and then we may be there first.
I sent Goven on with the 21st and two guns at once to strike a
bee-line for Kalabas bridge--to reck for nothing, only to get there.
But we have neither guides nor maps that can give one any idea of the
true lie of the country. I could only furnish him with the direction
and the ordinary inaccurate sheet-map."

_B.-M._ "And what do you intend doing yourself, sir?"

_B._ "We will just push on hell-for-leather for the position which the
turkey-expert is holding; and then if he is being attacked, and wind
and tide will allow it, we will just hurl ourselves into ole man De
Wet, smother him, or perish in the attempt."

The hills about Fauresmith differ little in formation from the general
character obtaining in South Africa. They divide the veldt into a
series of rough parallelograms. The brigadier had estimated that we
were distant from Fauresmith only about four or five miles, while the
inaccurate map showed that when the 21st Dragoon Guards had started,
they only had about eight miles to cover before they would reach the
Kalabas bridge over the Riet. Therefore the brigadier was satisfied
that if he was able to stop the bridge with the 21st and get touch
with De Wet's main body before dark, he could deal with it with the
force he had kept in hand. But it would be absolutely essential to
gain touch that night, and once having gained it, to push through to a
conclusion at once. The interior of the first parallelogram allowed
the force to advance with an extended front, and six miles of smart
trotting brought it to Brandewijnskuil, where the Fauresmith road
passes over a stream tributary to the Riet. To the east of this drift,
between it and Fauresmith, rise the glacis-like slopes of Groen
Kloof--well named, for the whole country here is green, and the
immediate neighbourhood of the drift is not unlike many rural spots to
be found in Surrey. Bushed as with a hedgerow, the road sinks into the
drift, to appear again on the far side, cutting its way between a
rough-edged turf upon which geese and goats are browsing. To the left
stands a whitewashed cottage, with a corral of stunted shrub and a
tree or two. Beside it, in a creeper-grown shed, are the appliances of
a blacksmith's craft--yes, just for the moment it might well be
Surrey. But we have no time to stay and admire or to soliloquise over
scenery. There is men's work ahead. A mounted messenger is dashing
down the track in front of us, as if hell and a thousand devils had
been loosed behind him. He hands a scrap of paper to the
brigade-major, and then throws himself from his horse, which stands
motionless with heaving sides and dripping flanks.

_Brigadier._ "Read it. Who is it from?"

_Brigade-Major._ "From the officer in command of the two squadrons of
Mount Nelsons. He says: 'Groen Kloof, 3.15 P.M.--Boers about 200
strong demonstrated against me, while the convoy made a circle round
out of range to north-east. I was unable to prevent this. Convoy is
going as fast as it can due north. You could cut it off. Am holding
this until you reinforce. No casualties; have six prisoners.'"

_Brigadier_ (_taking out his watch_). "It is now 3.40. Goven started
at 1.30; he ought to be at the bridge well in front of those coves. If
he is, we've got 'em. Here, Baker; take the rest of this crush
straight for the north-east corner of this sheet of the map. As soon
as you reach the corner, make a right angle, steer north-west, and you
ought to come out just on the tail of Brother and his Cape carts. Now,
off you go; report to Colonel Washington, but I shall expect you to
keep the show going. Gad! it's the chance of the campaign, if the
Riet is still in flood!"

_B.-M._ "Very good, sir. But where will you be?"

_B._ "I shall be here. This is where the transport will outspan
to-night. I shall keep the turkey-expert up on the top of Groen Kloof
all to-night, in case Brother tries to break back that way! But
wherever you find the enemy, go for him bald-headed: it is the only
chance!"

_B.-M._ "But if I find that he has crossed the river? If the other
column should not be in position?"

_B._ (_deliberately_) "If he has got across the Riet, come back at
once with your tail between your legs. Pursuit in those circumstances
would be useless. But use your own discretion if it comes to a near
thing. Tell Freddy that you've my instructions to fight; you and
Freddy ought to be able to convince Washington, and Twine, his second
in command, is fighting stuff. Good-bye, and good luck to you; spare
neither man nor beast. (_As the brigade-major rode off, the brigadier
turned to the Intelligence officer._) Now, Mr Intelligence, I want
you also to make yourself useful. I want you if possible to get to
Goven and acquaint him of the situation. It is of vital importance
that he should know how the force behind him is distributed. Even if
they are attacking him at the bridge, do your utmost to get to him:
the best of forces present flanks that are possible to single men.
Just tell him that Washington with half the force is bearing down upon
the bridge from the north-east; that Groen Kloof is held by our own
coves; that I am here with the baggage, and its escort of sick, blind,
halt, and lame; that if Washington gets into them, he is to leave just
enough men to make the bridge secure, and hurl his hoplites in to the
help of Washington. Now, ride cunning; you may have a difficult job. I
should keep well to the left. Good-bye, and good luck to you. Ride
cunning!"...

The Intelligence officer rode out on his lonely mission. Luckily he
had changed his horse after the affair at Liebenbergspan, and being
well mounted, he felt fairly confident. He first steered north-west,
hoping to strike off the _spoor_ of Goven's column. But when after
four miles he failed to find it, he opined that he was making a detour
which, if persevered in, would not bring him to his destination by
nightfall. He therefore changed his direction to due north, and put
spurs to his horse. He was working along the inner edge of a great
veldt-basin, and getting a little uncomfortable as to his direction;
and alarmed that he saw no traces of the column, he dismounted in a
kloof, and climbed to the top of the edge of the basin. Beneath him
lay a track, standing out white against the veldt. There was just a
short breadth of veldt, and then the country became very broken and
hilly. Within two hundred yards of the spot which he had chosen for
his reconnaissance stood a small farmhouse. But it was not the
farmhouse that attracted his attention; it was a pillar of dust which
showed to the north along the track. He took out his glasses. There
was no doubt about it,--it was a body of mounted men and some
transport going away from him. They were not more than a mile away;
and if it had not been for the dust, he could almost have counted the
force. "It is De Wet," he inwardly reflected; "he is going right into
Goven's arms; and for Boers to make all that dust, they must be
travelling fast." He turned his glasses down to the south; there he
could find no sign of living thing upon the track. He was just
debating in his mind what would be the right course to pursue, when he
heard a voice behind him, "Beg pardon, sir, but them is Boers; they
have just all gone past here!" He turned round to find a British
dragoon standing stiffly to attention behind him.

_Intelligence Officer._ "Who are you? and where the devil have you
come from?"

_Trooper._ "Please, sir, we belongs to a patrol that was sent out by
Captain Charles, and we got lost."

_I. O._ "Where are the others? where are your horses?"

_T._ "I have got the three horses down in the nullah there. The
corporal and the other man are down in that farm, sir; at least that
is where they went before the Boers came."

_I. O._ "In that farm? Why, the Boers will have got them; they must
have passed quite close to the farm!"

_T._ "They did that, sir; but I never seed them get them. I expect
that they was under the beds when the Boers passed."

_I. O._ "Did you see all the Boers pass?"

_T._ "Yes, sir; there was about a thousand, two waggons, and a lot of
carts. Some was riding horses, and others riding in the carts."

_I. O._ "Were they going fast?"

_T._ "Yes, sir; just as fast as they could, shouting and swearing and
calling to each other. They seemed dreadful pressed for time!"

_I. O._ "We had better see if those other fellows of yours are still
in the farm. Have you got your rifle loaded?"

The Intelligence officer and trooper walked down to the little
homestead, and as they approached the door out stepped the two most
scared and astonished dragoons that South Africa has ever seen. They
were escorted by a bevy of smiling girls. When they saw their comrade
safe and sound in the company of an officer, they became absolutely
nonplussed. But the Intelligence officer got the following history out
of the corporal:--

_Corporal._ "Well, sir, we were sent off as a patrol on the right
flank, and somehow among the kopjes we lost touch, and about an hour
ago we reached this place. I left the horses under cover with Smith,
and I took one man and went to reconnoitre the farm. We found this
nice old lady inside, who speaks English; and she told us that she
hadn't seen any English troops, but that a small party of Boers had
passed in the morning, who had stopped and had some coffee, but who
seemed to be in a hurry. The good lady asked us if we would have some
coffee. Well, sir, we were very thirsty and hungry-like, so we sat
down, and they gave us some coffee and cake and things; and just as we
were eating, the old lady rushed in and said the Boers were coming,
and hustled us into a small bedroom. Well, sir, we looked through the
window, spy-like, and there, sure enough, were about ten Boers on
horses galloping past the house. They were mostly quite young boys,
but there were some greybeards amongst them. They seemed in a great
hurry, for only one just stopped at the house, and he only stayed a
moment. Then more and more passed, riding along in no formation, and
all seeming in a hurry. Just one or two turned aside and had a word
with the people of the house, but none of them got off their horses.
Then an ambulance-waggon came by, and quite a string of Cape carts:
the last cart had four horses in it, driven by a nigger, and it
stopped quite five minutes at the farm. Two men, who kept on shouting
orders to the passing Boers, were sitting in the back of it----"

_Intelligence Officer._ "What were they like?"

_C._ "One was a stout man with a long black beard; the other had a
grey beard and puffy eyes. The people here now tell us that they were
Steyn and De Wet."

_I. O._ "Why the devil didn't you shoot them?"

_Trooper_ (_coming to his comrades aid_). "How was we to know, sir, as
how they were generals? they just looked two comfortable old civie
blokes. Besides, we had left our rifles standing in the next room!"

_I. O._ "How many Boers would you say went by?"

_C._ "I should say four or five hundred, sir; they was going by in
driblets for the best part of half an hour."

_I. O._ "Who are the people in this house? I can't understand their
attitude in screening you here. You have had the most remarkable
experience. What an opportunity!"

_C._ "The lady, sir, is an Irish lady, and she is a very good friend
to her countrymen!"

The Intelligence officer then cross-examined the owner of the farm,
and she corroborated all that the corporal had said. Both De Wet and
Steyn were in the four-horsed cart. They asked her if she had seen any
kharkis recently; about the state of the Riet River, and the distance
to Kalabas bridge; and before driving off impressed upon her the
necessity of putting any of the English off the scent who might be
following. As they drove away De Wet shouted back, "They are close
behind." This information raised the Intelligence officer to a high
standard of excitement, for he now felt sure that the brigade was
well in upon the right scent. Already he found himself listening for
the sound of Goven's guns. Collecting the three troopers who had been
nearer to the person of De Wet than other armed Britishers had for
some time, he turned back into the veldt basin and pushed forward
northwards. The sun was now nearly down, but that was nothing: buoyed
by a great excitement, the Intelligence officer was possessed of only
one idea, which was to be in at the death. But a bitter disappointment
was in store for him.

_Corporal_ (_pointing to the left rear_). "Please, sir, there is the
column."

The Intelligence officer could scarcely believe his eyes--the thought
was too appalling, too ghastly to be true. It was true, nevertheless.
Instead of arriving at the bridge, the column had lost direction, and,
without an adequate guide or map, had become entangled among the
hills. Lost, without forage or food, beast and man weary beyond
expression, while De Wet was crossing the Riet over Kalabas bridge,
the stop which should have been there was endeavouring to retrace its
steps back to camp. As the Intelligence officer realised the truth
great tears welled up to his eyes.

* * * * *

It was midnight before the mess servants could turn out a meal at
Brandewijnskuil for the staff. Two doleful candles but added to the
depression bred of the hour and the disappointment which was uppermost
in every mind. We had had our chance and failed. The brigadier alone
was philosophic: his natural gaiety would not allow of depression: his
manly spirit would not collapse against the ruling of the laws of
chance.

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