Antique book by Peter Maritz Moldoy Bur of the Transvaal 1900. The historical story of A. Nieman. Translation with permission of the author from the 6th German edition of A. and P. Gansen. with 67 drawings. Devrien edition. SPB. 1900. Andrew Burman and his son Peter Maritz. The book has been partially restored. The book block has been strengthened, the forzacs have been replaced with new ones. Conclusion of the Book of A. Nieman. Peter Maritz Young Boer from the Transvaal of 1900 edition: General Wood approached, not to resume hostilities, but to declare peace. The courage of the Boers, the defeats inflicted by a handful of brave defenders of the Transvaal to the British troops in the Dragon Mountains, the huge losses of the British confused the government of a great power. The voice of justice spoke in the hearts of greedy conquerors. They did not have time to collect from Mayuba all the wounded in the last terrible battle to help them, part in the Boer infirmary, part in the English camp, did not have time to bury all the fallen, as the British appealed to the Boer commander for a truce. England agreed to accept the Transvaal's demands as just. The good news passed to the camp of the Boers from mouth to mouth, and brave people who were ready to lay down their lives for the freedom of the motherland, embraced joyful excitement. They gathered in jubilant crowds near their elders and with all the strength of their sincere faith and reverence offered thanks to the Lord, who gave them victory and delivered the triumph of their just cause. From Heidelberg, from Pretoria, crews rushed to the camp of the Boers, wagons rushed, - the wives and daughters of the winners rushed to greet their husbands and fathers. Heard everywhere the exulting cries, seeing the radiant faces, Peter Maritz young drill from the transvaal jumped on the Skakun, a powerful hand grabbed a four-color flag and, lifting it high into the air, drove in front of the crowds of fellow countrymen. Proudly led over the exulting crowds the flag of the republic, covered with glory. Long live the Transvaal! Long live the Republic of South Africa! - a powerful youthful voice was heard, and a thousandfold echo of these exclamations swept through the camp. Just at this time, a light carriage pulled by a pair of strong horses with a half-thrown sail top rolled up, and from it it seemed to be a clever face bordered by a gray beard, which Peter Maritz saw in Blumfonten. This is the president of the Orange Republic, Johan Stamp, at the camp with the representative of England, to serve as an intermediary between England and the victorious Boers. General Joubert went to his meeting and shook his hand. Long live the Boers! - Peter Maritz's mighty cry. President Stamp looked at the young man with a waving banner in his hands and apparently recognized him. A smile ran through his face. Joubert noticed both this look and this smile. Yes, this is one of our best warriors!" he said. And Peter Maritz's voice is good. As loudly as now, in the hour of victory, his call to battle was heard on Mayube Mountain. We owe him a lot. He served his country a great service. All around looked at Peter Maritz, the banner that the general was telling the truth, and Peter Maritz blushed, but felt both happy and proud. He still could not forget her. All the adventures and thrills of wartime could not erase from his memory the bright colors of this delightful girlish appearance. Now he became convinced that she was even sweeter than was depicted in his memory. She came straight up to the young man, greeting him with her sweet, friendly smile, which never gave him more joy, and handed him a rose taken from his chest. Accept this rose as a symbol of the gratitude that we women have for the brave defenders of our fatherland. Peter Maritz, a young Boer from the Transvaal, took a rose, and his heart was filled with a feeling of unknown yet bliss. At that moment, his eyes fell on a shiny red uniform, a lonely spot that stood out among the dark blouses. With a gloomy sad face, Lord Adolf Fitzherbert approached the stroller of Stamp, who wanted to know what was happening with the world. Adolf! Do not look so gloomy! - exclaimed Peter Maritz in a cordial tone. Peter Maritz jumped from the saddle, handed the banner to a countryman standing nearby, walked up to the Englishman and hugged him. "Don't be angry, Adolf," he continued in a pleading tone. "Don't let me lose your friendship on this happy day! Lord wanted to free himself from the embrace of the young storm, although he was moved by his requests, but suddenly stopped, looking in front of him with an expression of deep surprise. Peter Maritz followed his gaze and shouted joyfully. A tall old man made his way through a crowd of men, horses and carts, in which the young man immediately recognized his missionary friend. The eyes of the blasphemous old man glowed with the same gentle, heavenly light, and the crowd respectfully parted before him. If human love is so strong and strong, then how much stronger is Divine love! It will also reconcile the peoples who have warmed the African land with their blood, and this country, saturated with the light of the Divine love of Christ, will be a blessed field for the seeds of the word of God.