Kimberley, South Africa,
December 1901.

From Uitenhage we returned to Port Elizabeth, where my brother had about a week's work, and then we had to wait a few more days for a steamer; but several old Kimberley friends were down there, and a good many other people called, so I had a very pleasant time.

Port Elizabeth was a little agitated about the plague; they had had about a hundred cases, and about half of that number had died, but just then there were only twelve in the hospital.

One day I went out with three ladies to a place they call the Red House, and had a delightful row up the Zwartkops River. Another day Mrs. —— drove my brother and me out to her father's country house, "Kraggakama," about a fourteen mile drive; a beautiful bungalow house, and such a lovely garden, surrounded by dense, semi-tropical woods, with little paths leading away into the woods; many monkeys and other creatures around.

We had lunch out there, and found strawberries just ripe in the garden.

From Port Elizabeth we had meant to go straight back to Kimberley, but, after many wires, it was decided that my brother must go to Oudtshoorn, a place a long way from the railway, where there had been cases waiting for a long time for trial, as it had not been considered safe for a judge to travel there.

To reach Oudtshoorn it was necessary to go by steamer to Mossel Bay, and the mail steamers, as a rule, do not call at Mossel Bay. Moreover, Port Elizabeth being an infected port (with plague), the mail steamers were not keen on taking passengers from there; so there were many obstacles to be overcome.

I packed up my heavy baggage and sent it up to Kimberley; then the Norman was signalled, and we went down to the jetty, and had to be examined by the medical officer of health for plague symptoms! and then the harbour-master took us off in a special tug.

The next morning they put us ashore at Mossel Bay, and there we had to wait some hours as the Commandant was very doubtful as to which was the safest route for us to take; there were still a good many Boers in the surrounding country, and, though they probably would not wish to interfere with us, they would certainly be very pleased to annex our provision cart and also our horses and mules; and the C.O. had so weak a garrison that he could spare us only a small escort.

After some time spent in wiring, it was decided we should drive to George and sleep there. The baggage and provisions were sent on with a mule cart, and, after an early lunch, we got away in two Cape carts with four horses each.

The distance was about thirty miles, and we outspanned only once—at Brak River, where we had some tea, and there an escort of six cyclists met us from George, and the Mossel Bay men turned back. The cyclists were very smart fellows; some of them scouted ahead, and the others rode with us very steadily uphill and down. It was getting dark when we neared George, and the Commandant and Magistrate rode out to meet us, and then stayed and had dinner with us at the hotel.

George is a pretty place, with streets lined with fine old oaks, and with big arum lilies growing in the fields around.

Just in front of the hotel there was a stout little sandbag fort with a small gun, and, of course, there was very strict "Martial Law" there; pickets on every road, and no one could leave the village or come in without a permit, and even with a permit you must be within the picket lines by sundown. No one might be outside his house after 9 P.M., and lights must be all out by 10 P.M.

We were to sleep at George, and the Commandant told us that he had already sent out a patrol of men, who were to sleep at the top of the Montague Pass, and meet us there the next morning; he wished us to slip away quietly in the early morning, and his patrol would soon join us, and ride with us till we met the troop that was being sent out from Oudtshoorn to meet us.

The Commandant has about 300 men under him. They are nearly all local men, in fact many of them Boers, but he was quite confident of their loyalty, and said the poor chaps were suffering badly for it, the rebels burning their farms and doing them all the harm they possibly could. Just when we were there he was very sad because one of his scouts, quite a young lad belonging to George (and very popular in the place), had been most cruelly shot by them after he had had to surrender.

The next day we started in our carts about 6.30 A.M., every one seeming to think it would be a risky drive. After we had gone some way our driver began to pull up and looked scared (he could speak only Dutch), and we made out that he could see some horses off-saddled higher up the mountain, and he thought it was Boers waiting for us. With some difficulty we explained to him that we expected the George escort to meet us at the beginning of the Pass, and then he agreed to go on; but we were all somewhat relieved when we got up to the horses and found they belonged to genuine District Mounted Troops, and that they had not seen any Boers about.

That day we travelled between forty and fifty miles, through beautiful mountain scenery, which reminded us of Switzerland (minus the snow); lovely ferns and cool, dripping water, and quite high mountains all round.

We outspanned only once for a breakfast-lunch at Doom River about 10 A.M.; Scheeper's commando had honoured them with a visit there, for looting purposes, just before he was caught.

At Hymen's House, about mid-day, we were met by a captain and twenty-two men from Oudtshoorn, and the George men went back. We got safely into Oudtshoorn about 3 P.M., and expected to be there about three or four days, but the work was heavier than had been expected, and we were there a whole fortnight. This was rather fortunate for me, as I knocked up with a very sharp touch of dysentery again, and should not have been fit to travel much sooner.

The Oudtshoorn people were extremely kind, and, when I got better, I had some charming drives to visit farms and other places of interest. It is a rich farming district, and it was the first time I had seen anything of ostrich farming and tobacco growing; so I found a great deal to interest me; they also grow grapes and other fruits, and it is a good corn-growing country.

The ostriches do especially well all along the course of the Oliphant's River. I got some good photos of the ungainly creatures.

Martial law was very strict, and (besides the same rules as those which I told you were in force at George) the farmers were not allowed to keep any horses or food supplies on their farms in case the Boers should take a fancy to them;—all horses had to be sold to the Remount Department at a fixed price, and farmers and other residents in the district, who were accustomed to keeping plenty of good horses, might be seen coming into town with oxen in their traps; and as they were not allowed to keep more than a week's supply of food or forage on their farms, and as some lived many miles away, they had to spend a good part of their time on the road in drawing their rations, as, of course, the oxen are very slow travellers.

They were reaping the corn when we were there, and it all had to be carted into town and sold to the military people, as they cut it.

Oudtshoorn, being far from the railway, had been very short of provisions (groceries, &c.) for some time past, and the military authorities would not allow any waggons to go up from the coast without a strong escort (which could not often be spared); but a convoy had been sent through before we got there, so there was plenty of food, and our provision cart had a few luxuries which seemed to be appreciated at the two dinner parties we gave.

From Oudtshoorn we still had more than a day's journey to join the railway at Prince Albert Road, and horses were so scarce that it was not easy to get decent animals. We sent the baggage cart (with mules) on ahead, and, eventually, my brother and I (and our man) got away in a light Cape cart with two fairly good horses, and the other men had four screws in a bigger cart. The scenery, as we crossed the Zwartberg, was very grand, but not quite so pretty as the Montague Pass. It was very stiff work for the horses, and we walked a good deal. Our first outspan was near the Cango Caves, where they had recently had a visit from a Boer commando; and then we had to give the horses a good rest at the "Victoria Hotel," high up on the Zwartberg.

We were rather disturbed to find, when we caught up our baggage cart, that it had no brake on it: the road is tremendously steep, as it zigzags down the mountain; so the sergeant in charge of our escort left a trooper to help the boy bring the mules down.

We got in about 7 P.M., but there was no sign of the baggage cart that night, and the Commandant (who had ridden out to meet us and then dined with us) was anxious, because only one trooper had been left with it, so he sent some more men out to meet them.

We had to go to bed without our baggage, feeling very anxious, as every one seemed to think the Boers would much like to get hold of it, and also of the mules.

I have seen plenty of barbed wire in South Africa, but have never seen so much as at Prince Albert; they stretch it even across the village street at night, and you can't go many yards without getting tied up in it.

The next morning, if we were to catch our train (and there was only the one train a day), we knew we must be away by 7.30 A.M.; but still no sign of our baggage; and then, at last, we heard that it was safe, but the crossbar of the harness had broken, and they had had to spend the night on the top of the mountain; a trooper had ridden in and gone back with new harness; so, after sitting at our gate with the Commandant, with a fresh supply of carts, and a fresh escort, until it was too late for it to be possible for us to catch our train, we had to decide to wait till the next day, and various wires had to be despatched about the railway carriage, &c.

About two hours later the missing baggage-cart arrived all well, with a very weary driver and troopers in attendance.

We had a pleasant day at Prince Albert, and the next day (having sent the baggage on at an early hour) we had an easy drive of twenty-eight miles with some excellent horses (most kindly lent to us by the Commandant), to the rail at Prince Albert Road. We outspanned only once, at Boter's Kraal, where the final escort met us, the sergeant coming up to salute and to tell us that he and his men "had searched the kopjes thoroughly since 4 A.M., and had seen no Boers to-day!" but at Boter's Kraal they told us of a recent visit from Pyper's commando.

Thus ended our 150 (odd) miles of driving across the Colony in this "sort of a war," without once having had the excitement of seeing any armed or hostile Boers. About thirty hours in a hot and dusty train brought us into Kimberley.

The dull old Karroo country looked much the same as when I saw it ten years ago, except that every few hundred yards on the line a blockhouse is standing, and a sentry in his shirtsleeves marches up and down with his rifle, while the rest of the garrison (some half-dozen men) come to look at the train, and to sing out "Papers." They have a terribly monotonous life, and one throws them every scrap of literature one possesses.