Their Faces Were The Real Index To What They Had Passed
Through.
Any one who had seen our men at Montauk Point or in the fever camp at
Siboney needed no hospital list to tell him of the pitiful condition
of the garrison.
The skin on their faces was yellow, and drawn
sharply over the brow and cheekbones; their teeth protruded, and they
shambled along like old men, their voices ranging from a feeble pipe
to a deep whisper. In this pitiable condition they had been forced
to keep night-watch on the hill-crests, in the rain, to lie in the
trenches, and to work on fortifications and bomb-proofs. And they
were expected to do all of these things on what strength they could
get from horse-meat, biscuits of the toughness and composition of
those that are fed to dogs, and on "mealies," which is what we call
corn.
That first day in Ladysmith gave us a faint experience as to what the
siege meant. The correspondents had disposed of all their tobacco,
and within an hour saw starvation staring them in the face, and raced
through the town to rob fellow-correspondents who had just arrived.
The new-comers in their turn had soon distributed all they owned, and
came tearing back to beg one of their own cigarettes. We tried to
buy grass for our ponies, and were met with pitying contempt; we
tried to buy food for ourselves, and were met with open scorn.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 137 of 202
Words from 37425 to 37674
of 55169
