THE MEEICO COUNTRY. 
163 
know what they would do. I wrought hard for 
them all day yesterday on Darby, whom I left 
behind here, a bag of bones, and he carried me 
as fresh as a lark over a vast extent of land, but 
I never burnt powder. This is the last house in 
the Merico country ; the Boers have not penetrated 
farther, though I consider them first-rate pioneers 
in a new land. We are only four days from 
Sechele, a very powerful Maccateese chief. Swartz 
is now not going to start until the 31st August, 
so I have a fortnight to kick my heels about here, 
with nothing to do ; but I am not sorry for it 
on the horses’ and oxen’s account, for we have 
had two days’ rain, and the new grass is springing 
up fast and green, and there will soon be a marked 
improvement in the appearance of the animals. 
They have had a hard winter — cold, frosty, and 
windy—to contend with, and very little grass. 
We were treated most hospitably and kindly by 
one and all the Boers in the neighbourhood, and 
Swartz kept a capital table, and an almost open 
house, there being lots of visitors every day, and 
a soupii, or a glass of Cape brandy, for every 
one. The flasks were never off the table, and the 
day invariably wound up by target-shooting, at 
which the Dutch are great adepts. A yokeskey 
at 100 yards, or a bottle, was frequently the mark, 
and sometimes the crack shots called for Eau de 
Cologne flasks, short, squab little things, no higher 
than a wine glass, and looking uncommonly small at 
