Soutpan was a salt-marsh region within the Orange Free State. As the civil war in the Orange Free State escalated, fierce firefights erupted across the land.
But the Orange people were like wild grass, stubbornly withstanding the combined offensive of the British and the Transvaalers.
Although the Orange people's record against the Transvaal Restoration Army had been unsightly in the early stages of the war, as weapons and equipment arrived, logistical support improved, militias learned to work together, and combat experience accumulated, they had already emerged from their predicament and could now trade blows with the Transvaalers.
"Report, Company Commander. We discovered traces of an enemy grain convoy near Florisbad."
"Is the intelligence source reliable?"
"We learned it from villagers in Florisbad. It was reported by a man named Varshanu."
"Mm. Have you confirmed his identity?"
"Yes. This Varshanu is indeed a villager from Florisbad. We verified it with the local villagers and village chief."
"Bring him over. I have some questions for him."
Very soon, a shifty-eyed man was brought before Branca. His eyes darted around the Restoration Army camp, while every movement he made was cautious and guarded. One glance was enough to tell that he was calculating something.
Seeing that he showed not the slightest fear, Branca asked with a stern face, "You are Varshanu?"
"Yes, sir!" Varshanu answered respectfully.
"I see you have quite the nerve. Ordinary people would feel at least a little uncomfortable entering a military camp, yet you seem rather interested in this place?"
Varshanu hurriedly waved his hands in denial. "Sir, don't flatter me. I'm merely curious about the camp, since it's my first time here. As for being bold, I might truly have a bit of that. Ever since I was little, there's been nothing much I was afraid of."
Bang!