A Breath from the Veldt 6i 



these little dances ; and when you come to know them and their homely 

 ways, you too can enjoy for once in a way their fun, even though, after half 

 an hour's dancing, the dust rises up in clouds, and the lights (amongst the 

 poorer classes only a single candle) grow so dim that you can hardly distin- 

 guish one face from another at a three feet distance. When this happens 

 water is brought in and sprinkled over the floor, with a result that I must 

 leave to the imagination of my readers ; for, bearing in mind what the floor 

 was made of, I fled away to my waggon and the cool night air that blows 

 under the cartel. 



My description of a Dutch " hop " refers, of course, only to such as are 

 common amongst the poorer classes of farmers, etc. The more affluent class 

 ■ — especially the nouveaux riches — while affecting to despise the English, take 

 only too readily to our ways and customs, to the sacrifice of their own indi- 

 viduality, while lessening their interest in the eyes of the English traveller. 



And now a still more novel experience awaited me. Mr. William Bossoph 

 is one of the very few men in the Transvaal who can claim as his own a 

 tribe of real Bosjesmen ; and to my great delight, he sent for the whole colony, 

 that I might inspect them and make a sketch of old David, their head. 

 These little people, the lowest type of humanity, are now nearly extinct. 

 Indeed, except some few who eke out a miserable existence on the hills round 

 the ill-fated Majuba, it is doubtful whether there are any of the pure strain 

 left beyond those under Mr. Bossoph's protection. Mr. Bossoph inherited 

 old David and his six wives from his father, who captured the family in the 

 hills near his farm, and so saved them from destruction ; for in those days 

 the " voor-trekker " Dutchmen shot them down like rabbits. Next morning, 

 after an excellent breakfast, mine host informed me that his wild men had 

 arrived ; and there, seated against a wall, with their bright little eyes sparkling 

 in the sun, were these strange objects patiently waiting our arrival. They 

 were about fifteen in all, distinctly apish in appearance, and yet betraying in 

 their faces not only intelligence but stronger emotional force than any of the 

 native races except the Zulus. Old David could not have been much over 

 four feet in height, and his wives were all two or three inches less. And 

 how they did chatter, keeping up an incessant flow of clicks, like a lot of 

 telegraph needles gone mad. Mr. Bossoph's wife and brother are, I believe, 

 about the only outsiders who understand and speak the language perfectly, 

 being in daily communication with the people. And now old David posed 

 for a few minutes as my model, sitting quite still in the blazing sun, with 



