THE LADYSMITH LYRE
 

Vol. I. No. 3. 5 December, 1899. Price 6p.

THE RELIEF OF LADYSMITH
Reprinted from The Times of December 5th, 2099.
A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY.

The eminent German archaeologist, Dr. Poompschiffer, has recently contributed to science the most interesting discovery of the century. It will be remembered that the learned professor started in the spring on a tour of exploration among the buried cities of Natal. When last heard of, in October, he had excavated the remains of Maritzburg and Estcourt, and was cutting his way through the dense primeval forest on the banks of the Tugela. By cable, yesterday came intelligence of even more sensational finds. Briefly, Dr. Poompschiffer has re-discovered the forgotten town of Ladysmith. Crossing the Tugela, the intrepid explorer pushed northward. The dense bush restricted his progress to three miles a day. On the third day Poompschiffer noticed strange booming sounds frequently repeated; none of his party could guess what they were, and curiosity ran high. On the sixth day the mystery was explained. The party came suddenly upon a group of what were at first taken for a species of extinct reptile, but which the profound learning of Poompschiffer enabled him to recognise as THE LAST SURVIVALS OF THE PREHISTORIC BOERS.

Their appearance was almost terrifying. They were all extremely old. Their white beards had grown till they trailed beneath their feet, and it was the custom of the field cornets to knee-halter each man at night with his own beard to prevent him from running away. Their clothes had fallen to pieces with age, but a thick and impenetrable coating of dust and malinite kept them warm. Their occupation was as quaint as their appearance. They were firing obsolete machines, conjectured to be the cannon of the ancient, in the direction of a heap of cactus-grown ruins. That heap of ruins was the fabled fortress of Ladysmith.

Students of history will remember the Boer war of 1899 from which public attention was distracted by the great War Office strike. The learned will also remember at a later period, after the closing of that office, the controversy in our columns on the question whether Ladysmith existed or not, which the general voice of experts finally decided in the negative. It is now proved that the so-called sarants of that rudo age were mistaken. Not only did Ladysmith exist, not only was it besieged, but up to the day before yesterday THE SIEGE OF LADYSMITH WAS STILL GOING ON.

The site of the town at first appeared uninhabited. But when Poompschiffer commenced excavating he came, to his amazement, upon signs of old workings at a depth of only a few feet below the surface. For an instant, he tells us, he thought some other antiquarian had been before him. Next moment some creature blundered along the tunnel into his very arms. It was secured and brought into the light. It was the last inhabitant of Ladysmith.

It was apparently one of the children born since the beginning of the siege, and was about a hundred years old. From living in underground holes it was bent double, and quite blind. It appeared unable to speak, only repeating constantly, in a crooning voice, the syllables, "Weeskee, weeskee," which Poompschiffer was unable to translate. The professor was anxious to secure this unique specimen for the Kaiser William Museum of Antiquities, at Berlin. But the moment it was removed from Ladysmith it began to pine away. Having never known any state of life but bombardment, it was terrified by the absence of artillery fire. Time after time it attempted to escape to its native shells. Poompschiffer endeavoured to maintain life by artificial bombardment, letting off crackers in the ear and pelting it with large stones.
But all was in vain, the extraordinary creature was not deceived, and in a few hours, with a last despairing wail of "Weeskee," it expired through sheer terror at the safety of its surroundings.