that un-English and unaccountable creature, a "pro-Boer", if I confess that the only Boer I ever was personally brought into contact with seemed to me a delightful person! This is how it happened. Soon after my arrival in Maritzburg, a bazar was held in aid of some local literary undertaking. Bazars were, happily, of very rare occurrence in those parts, and this one created quite an excitement, and realized an astonishingly large sum of money. The race-week had been chosen for the purpose of catching customers among the numerous visitors to Pietermaritzburg in that gay time, and the wiles employed seemed very successful. I never heard how or why he got there, but I only know that a stout, comfortable, well-to-do Dutch farmer suddenly appeared at the door of the bazar. He was, of course, at once assailed by pretty flower-girls and lucky-bag bearers, and cigars and kittens were promptly pressed on him. But the old gentleman had a plan and a method of his own, on which he proceeded to act. He had not one syllable of English, so it was a case of deeds, not words. He began at the very first stall and worked his way all round. At each stall he pointed to the biggest thing on it, and held out a handful of coins in payment. He then shouldered his purchase as far as the next stall where he deposited it as a gift to the lady selling, bought her biggest object, and went on round the hall on the same principle. When it came to my turn he held out to me the largest wax doll I ever beheld, and carried off a huge and unwieldy doll's house which entirely eclipsed even his burly figure. My next door (or rather stall) neighbor had a table full of glass and china, and she consequently viewed the approach of this article of bazar commerce with natural misgiving, but as this ideal customer relieved her of a very large, ugly breakfast set, she managed to make room for the

miniature house until she could arrange a raffle and so get rid of it. The last I saw of that Boer, who must have contributed largely to our receipts, was his leading a very small donkey, which he had just bought at the last stall, away by a blue ribbon halter. I believe it was the only "object" in the whole bazar which could possibly be of the slightest practical use to him, but the contrast between the weak-kneed and frivolously-attired donkey and its sturdy purchaser was irresistibly comic. No one seemed to know in the least who he was, but we supposed he must have come down for the races and backed the winners very successfully.

Our little house stood on a hill about a mile from Maritzburg, and, looking back on the formation of the surrounding country, one realizes how badly the towns in Natal, and probably all over South Africa, are placed for the purposes of defence. Every town, or even little hamlet or township, which I saw, stood in the middle of a wide plain with low hills all round it, so it is easy for me to realize how soon cannon planted on those hills would wreck the buildings. There was a great and agreeable difference in the temperature, however, up on that little hill, but towards the close of the dry winter season the water supply became an anxiety. In spite of the extremely cold nights up there, any plant for which I could spare a daily pail of water blossomed beautifully all through the winter. I was advised to select my favorite rose bushes before the summer rains had ceased, and to have the baths of the family emptied over them every day, which I did with perfect success, and was even able to include some azaleas and camellias in the list of the favored shrubs.

I was much struck with the rapid growth of trees in Natal, and it was astonishing to see the height and solidity of trees planted only ten years be

fore, especially the eucalyptus. But grass walks or lawns are much discouraged in a garden on account of the facility they afford as cover for snakes, and red paths and open spaces are to be seen everywhere instead. Even the lawn-tennis of that day was played on smooth courts of firmly-stamped and rolled red clay. I wonder how the golf-players manage-for play they do, I am certain, as nothing ever induces either a golfer or a cricketer to forego his game.

One morning, very early, I was taken to the market, and it certainly was an extraordinary sight. The marketplace is always one of the most salient features of a South African town, and is the centre of local gossip, just as is the "bazar" of the East. It was an immense open space thronged with buyers and sellers: whites, Kaffirs, coolies, emigrants from St. Helena, and many onlookers like myself. It was all under government control, and seemed very well managed. There were official inspectors of the meat offered for sale, and duly authorized weights and scales, round which surged a vociferous crowd. I was specially invited to view the butter sent down from the Boer farms up country, and I cannot say it was an appetizing sight. huge hide, very indifferently tanned, was unrolled for my edification, and it certainly contained a substance distantly resembling butter, packed into it, but apparently at widely differing intervals of time. The condiment was of various colors and-how shall I put it?-strengths; milk-sieves appeared also to have been unknown at that farm, for cow's hair formed a noticeable component part of that mass of butter. However, I was assured that it found ready and willing purchasers, even at four shillings a pound, and that it was quite possible to remake it, as it were, and subject it to a purifying process. I confess I felt thankful that

A

the butter my small family consumed was made under my own eyes.

Wagons laden with firewood were very conspicuous, and their loads disappeared rapidly, as did also piles of lucerne and other green forage. There was but little poultry for sale, and very few vegetables. I remember noticing in all the little excursions I made, within some twenty miles of Maritzburg, how different the Natal colonist, at least of those days, was from the Australian or New Zealand pioneer. At various farmhouses where there was plenty of evidence of a kind of roughand-ready prosperity, and much opennanded hospitality and friendliness, there would be only preserved milk and tinned butter available. Now these two items must have, indeed, been costly by the time they reached the farms I speak of. Yet there were herds of cattle grazing around. would there be poultry of any sort forthcoming, nor a sign of a garden. Of course it was not my place to criticise; but if I ventured on a question, I was always told, "Oh, labor is so difficult to get. You know, the Kaffirs won't work." I longed to suggest that the young people I saw about might very well turn to and lend a hand, at all events, to start a poultry yard, or dairy, or vegetable garden.

Nor

Now, at Fort Napier-the only fortified hill near Maritzburg-every little hollow and ravine was utilized by the soldiers stationed there as a garden. The men, of course, work in these little plots themselves, and grow beautiful vegetables. Potatoes and pumpkins, cabbages and onions, only need to be planted to grow luxuriantly. Why cannot this be done in the little farms around? I am afraid I took a selfish interest in the question, as it was so difficult, and often impossible, to procure even potatoes. Such things grow much more easily, I was told, at Durban; so probably those difficulties have

disappeared with the opening of the railway-the very railway of which I saw the first sod turned. My own attempt at a vegetable garden suffered from its being perched on the top of a hill, where water was very difficult to get; but I was very successful with some poultry, in spite of having to wage constant war against hawks and snakes.

How fortunate it is that one remembers the laughs of one's past life better than its tears! That morning visit to the Pietermaritzburg market stands out distinctly in my memory, chiefly on account of an absurd incident I witnessed. I had been much interested and amused looking round, not only at the strange and characteristic crowd. but at my many acquaintances marketing for themselves. I had listened to the shouts of the various auctioneers who were selling all manner of heterogeneous wares, when I noticed some stalwart Kaffirs bearing on their heads large open baskets filled entirely with coffee-pots of every size and kind. Roughly speaking, there must have been something like a hundred coffeepots in those baskets. They were just leaving an improvised auction-stand, and following them closely, with an air of proud possession on his genial countenance, was a specially-beloved friend of my own, who, I may mention, was the specially-beloved friend of all who knew him.

"Are all those coffee-pots yours?" I inquired.

"Yes, indeed; I have just bought them," he answered. "You must know I am a collector of coffee-pots, and have a great many already; but how lucky I have been to pick up some one else's collection as well, and so cheap, too!"

The Kaffirs were grinning, and there seemed a general air of amusement about, which I could not at all understand until it was explained to me, later, that my friend had just bought his own

collection of coffee-pots. His wife thought that the space they occupied in her store-room could be better employed, and, believing their owner would not attend the market that day, had sent the whole lot down to be sold. She told me afterwards that her dismay was indeed great when her Kaffirs brought them back in triumph, announcing that the "Inkose" (chieftain) had just bought them, so the poor lady had to pay the auctioneer's fees, and replace the coffee-pots on their shelves with what resignation she could command.

One of my pleasantest memories of Natal, especially as seen by the light of present events, is of a visit I paid to the annual joint encampment of the Natal Carbineers and the Durban Mounted Rifles. It was only what would be called, I suppose, a flying camp, and the ground chosen that year (August, 1876) was on "Botha's Flat", half-way between Maritzburg and Durban. I well remember how beautiful was the drive from Maritzburg over the Inchanga Pass, and how workmanlike the little encampment looked as one came upon it (after some break-neck driving), with its little tents dotted on a green down.

Although one little knew it, that same encampment was the school where were trained the men who are showing to-day what lessons they then learned. The whole training seemed practicable and admirable in the highest degree. It had to be carried out amid every sort of difficulty, and, indeed, one might almost say discouragement. In those distant days both these bodies of volunteers were strugling on with very little money, very little public interest or sympathy, and with great difficulty on the part of the members of these plucky little forces in obtaining leave for even this short annual drill. I was told that both the corps were much stronger on paper,

but that the absentees could not be spared from the stores, or sugar estates, or offices to which they belonged.

It was partly to show my own sympathy and interest in the movement that I accepted the invitation of the commandant to spend a couple of nights at the camp and see what they were doing. A lonely little inn hard by, where a tiny room could be secured for me, made this excursion possible, and I can never forget some of the impressions of that visit. When I read in the papers now of how splendidly the Natal colonist has come forward, even from the purely military point of view, I remember that camp, and I understand that I was then watching the forging of those links in our long imperial chain. The men now coming out so grandly as "soldiers of the Queen". no matter by what local names they may be called, are probably the sons of the stalwart volunteers I saw, but the teaching of that and the succeeding encampments has evidently borne good

fruit.

It was, indeed, serious work that they were all engaged on during those bright winter days, and my visit was not allowed to interrupt for a moment the drill which seemed to go on all through the daylight hours. What helped to make the lesson so valuable to the earnest learners was, that all went precisely as though a state of war existed. There were no servants, no luxuries-all was exactly as it probably is now.

I dined at the officer's mess that eveCornhill Magazine.

ning. Our table-cloth was of canvas, our candles were tied to cross-pieces of wood, and the food was served in the tins in which it was cooked. Tea was our only beverage, but the open air had made us all so hungry that everything seemed delicious. It was, I remember, bitterly cold, and the slight tent did not afford much shelter from the icy wind. How well I recollect my great longing to wrap myself up in the one luxury of the camp-a large and beautiful goatskin karosse on which I was seated! But that would have been to betray my chilliness, which would never have done. We separated somewhere about half-past eight-for we had dined as soon as ever it got too dark to go on drilling-but not before the whole encampment had assembled to sing "God Save the Queen" with all their heart as well as with all their voice, a fitting finish to the day's work.

Although my stay in Natal lasted very little over a year, I made many friends there, and it is with sympathizing regret I see in the roll-call of her local defenders the familiar names of those whom I remember as bright-eyed children. They have all sprung to arms in defence of the fair land of their fathers' adoption, and when the tale of this crisis in the history of Natal comes to be written, the names of her gallant young defenders will stand out on its pages in letters of light, and the record of their noble deeds will serve as an example forever and forever. So will they not have laid down their lives in vain.

As each

Within view of my window the few crisp lingering leaves of a veteran oak, which, through the months of winter, have defied their inevitable fate, are succumbing at last to a blustering storm out of the southwest. gust searches through the branches these waifs of the air go sailing off on the wind like small flights of birds, and after fluttering aloft in brief, wild career, come to earth half-way across the neighboring pasture. Their brethren that yielded in countless numbers in the early fall of last autumn, came softly and quickly to the ground, sodden with moisture, and dropping rank by rank at the warning touch of the first night frosts.

But the remnant of their generation, now dried and twisted, are, for the time, the sport of air currents, and the behavior of these air currents, which they partly betray, is a subject for valuable study. It recently chanced to the writer, in company with his daughter and Mr. Stanley Spencer, on the occasion of a night balloon ascent to view the Leonids, to undergo an enforced detention in the upper regions exceeding, in duration, that of any other English balloon voyage on record, and to have through long hours little better to do than to record-alike by eye observations and by a series of photographsthe varying streams and eddies of air blowing aloft, and their courses as faithfully registered on the upper surface of one vast cloud-sea 1,500 feet thick, that lay as a dense compact canopy over all the west and south of England.

By reason of its universal extent this far-reaching cloud layer remained practically stationary, while its upper face became frayed and furrowed much

in the same fashion as a field of corn i swept by the summer breeze, or as the débris on the seashore is flung here and there, and then left stranded by the retreating tide. While hovering at sunrise only just above this cloud floor, we had been struck by the manner in which its actual fringe would surge in huge wreaths and billows up into the clear sky and there disappear. We were for the time being actually poised on the verge of that lining of the cloud, which, in summer time in particular, we are wont to see withering away in detached masses and melting into space.

Then a wind-storm would seem to sweep across the scene, and billows of filmy mist would race past at a somewhat different level to ourselves, and in a direction differing widely from that in which our own course was known to be. Then, again, the aspect of the region close about us would change once more, and the cloud masses would settle down into a compact floor, as though formed of firm and level snow, and fully as purely white and glistening. As we had already endured some hours of the cramped quarters of the car, the temptation seemed to suggest itself to us that we might step out and have a run round for exercise. The same idea has occurred on similar occasions to other aërial travellers, one of whom has remarked on what a surprise would await any one who should try the experiment.

When, however, such was our strange fate that day-the sun rose and, warming and drying our balloon, sent us mounting by leaps and bounds ever higher and higher, we looked down at length on a limitless plain, on which