2 A Breath from the Veldt 



thing to interest and perchance amuse him in the wild life of the forest and the 

 desert as presented here from notes made on the spot. 



And now to my tale. Some two years ago, having just finished Mr. Selous' 

 latest and most admirable book, I started for South Africa with the settled con- 

 viction that there was nothing more to be said on the subject. And yet 1 had 

 not been in Cape Town six hours before I found myself sitting down on the 

 beach and making sketches of the funny little ways of a lot of cormorants as 

 they disported themselves at my feet in the waters. Then said I to myself, " If 

 they interest me, perhaps they will somebody else," and forthwith I began to 

 make notes of what I saw. The notes grew day by day as other things attracted 

 my attention, and finally I fell a victim to the South African Book disease from 

 which so many of my fellow-countrymen have suffered. Its effect upon some 

 of them is truly wonderful. A man lands, say, about the end of February, 

 when the days are beginning to be cool and pleasant, and he notices with 

 surprise the general lethargy and indolence of the inhabitants. He is himself 

 brisk and active after his voyage ; his brain, wearied perhaps at starting, 

 has received a tonic, and as he walks down Adderly Street he begins to think 

 what a fine fellow he is by comparison with the men he meets. That is 

 the first symptom of the disease. The second is his notebook, in which 

 he jots down at once what is passing in his mind. Before he has been a week 

 in Cape Town the fever is in full swing. He has collected from one source or 

 other sufficient information for a couple of chapters on the Colony and its 

 government, and is full of suggestions for the better ordering of the community. 

 A visit to Port Elizabeth and Johannesburg furnishes him with material for 

 a chapter on big game shooting and the gold mines ; and, coming across a 

 renegade Boer who can speak English, he gathers from him many startling facts 

 about " Onsland " that exist only in the addled brains of road-riders and bar- 

 loafers. The climax of the disease is reached when the sufferer publishes his 

 work (at his own expense) and sticks his friends for a copy, with a handsome 

 portrait of himself as a frontispiece. 



The voyage to the Cape is the very calmest and consequently pleasantest 

 that can be taken from our shores, as the conditions of weather are nearly always 

 favourable after the dreaded " Bay " is passed, and every passenger on board has 

 full opportunities for indulging his or her particular form of lazy or healthful 

 recreation. There are the usual sports got up during the cooler portions of the 

 day, and dances and entertainments of various kinds serve to enliven the even- 

 ings. The " Castle " line is famous in this respect. To enhance the pleasure 



