reader follow, we shall soon be roving free and unfettered
over unbeaten tracks upon the virgin soil of rarely visited
lands.
From the steamer we pass to the railway ; from the railway
to the post-cart ; from the post-cart to the primitive
ox-waggon. Then ho ! for the north, on foot if need be, to
the land of the honey bird, and the heart of the hunter’s
home ! On to the Zambesi ! We will wander through the
umbrageous aisles of the primeval forest : we will roam over
the vastness of the great plateau : we will saunter on the
golden sands of Nyassa’s lovely sea !
I had bidden a long adieu to the ocean and the. trembling
little Danube which had brought me from Cape Town.
Soon, too, the railway had to be left behind, for it did not
take long to reach the terminus at Colesberg.
When seated at the table of the Phoenix Hotel my vis-à-
vis was a gentleman with spectacles, who was evidently very
anxious, and, like some others, much worried by a feverish
impatience to reach “ the Fields.” For we had just been
too late. The post-cart had started shortly before.
“ Bad luck to the man that dhroVe it ! ” was the muttered
remark of an irate Celt from Brin’s isle, who had a very
wide mouth and a low, receding brow.
I t was soon evident that the city of Kopjies, or, properly
speaking, Colesberg, was not a sufficiently attractive place
for the spectacled gentleman. He was very energetic, and
conspicuously a man of business. He swallowed his bumper
of XXX, and then, correcting the dose with a cup of scalding
coffee, adjusted his magnifiers and left the room, his
purpose evidently being a search for a substitute coach.
Hastily repairing to the Post-cart Office, he contracted for
a Cape cart, something like a curricle with four horses.
The driver had orders for relays of horses on the road.
Happy thought again ! If I was lucky enough to be first
I would doubtless be acceptable in sharing the journey and
the expenses. No sooner thought than done; and on the
next morning we were speeding rapidly on our way over
the far stretching karroo.
I will at once pass over the 145 miles of country that
lie between Colesberg and Kimberley at the Diamond
Fields. We crossed the iron lattice bridge which spans the
Orange River, and connects the state with the colony.
Moving onward then through the Free State we passed the
town of Fauresmith, and arrived at the Queen’s Hotel,
Kimberley, on the evening of the 11th of February, 1884,
the journey from Colesberg having occupied two and a-half
•days.
The Diamond Fields are situated at an elevation of
4,050 feet above the sea. The surrounding country consists
of undulating prairie land, covered with very short grass
and sad-looking shrubs. Before the rains the country is
about as bare as a well-worn macadamized road. At that
time the rains had only fallen once in twelve months.
Excepting the diamond mines, the town is very uninteresting,
although it has a club which is the best of its kind
in South Africa. Only a few buildings are of brick or
stone, the greater number being made of corrugated iron,
one storey in height, so that when a full view of the town
is obtained, it is apt to make one think of a resemblance to
a lot of tin dog-kennels enlarged a few diameters.
Mining here, as is well known, dates from the first rush
to the fields in 1870. Speculation of the wildest description
was rife in the early days—almost as had as it was in
California in ’74 and ’75—but when I passed through the
place the people were labouring under a depression as deep
as their excitement had been high in more prosperous times.