Tree with Wakamba beehives, Kitanga. 
From a photograph by Edmund Heller. 
in cultivation, for corn and vegetables; and 
the wild velt came up to the door-sills, and 
the wild game grazed quietly on all sides 
within sight of the houses. It was a very 
good kind of pioneer life; and there could 
be no better pioneer settlers than Boers such 
as I saw. 
The older men wore full beards, and were 
spare and sinewy. The young men were 
generally smooth-faced or moustached, 
strongly built, and rather shy. The elder 
women were stout, cordial, motherly house¬ 
wives; the younger were often really pretty. 
At their houses I was received with hearty 
hospitality, and given coffee or fresh milk, 
while we conversed through the medium 
of the sons or daughters who knew a little 
English. They all knew that I was of 
Dutch origin, and were much interested 
when I repeated to them the only Dutch I 
knew, a nursery song which, as I told them, 
had been handed down to me by my own 
forefathers, and which in return I had re¬ 
peated, so many, many times, to my chil¬ 
dren when they were little. It runs as fol¬ 
lows, by the way; but I have no idea how 
the words are spelled, as I have no written 
copy; it is supposed to be sung by the 
father, who holds the little boy or little girl 
524 
on his knee, and tosses him or her up in the 
air when he comes to the last line: 
Trippe, troppa tronjes, 
De vaarken’s en de bonjes, 
De kuje’s en de klaver, 
De paard’s en de hafer 
De entje’s en de watter-plash! 
So groot mein kleine (here insert the 
little boy’s or little girl’s name) was! 
My pronunciation caused trouble at first; 
but I think they understood me the more 
readily because doubtless their own usual 
tongue was in some sort a dialect; and some 
of them already knew the song, while they 
were all pleased and amused at my remem¬ 
bering and repeating it; and we were speed¬ 
ily on a most friendly footing. 
The essential identity of interest between 
the Boer and British settlers was shown by 
their attitude toward the district commis¬ 
sioner, Mr. Humphrey, who was just leaving 
for his biennial holiday, and who dined with 
us in our tent on his way out. From both 
Boer farmer and English settler—and from 
the American missionaries also—I heard 
praise of Humphrey, as a strong man, not 
in the least afraid of either settler or native, 
but bound to do justice to both, and, what 
was quite as important, sympathizing with 
