foe.  It seems to be a truism that it requires a Boer to rule a Boer; and in some ways the mantle of President Kruger would appear to have descended in our days upon General Louis Botha.  According to all accounts, his will is now law to the ignorant back Veldt Boers, although his guiding principles savour more of the big stick than of the spoon-feeding system.  Undoubtedly loyal to England, he bids fair in the future to help found a nation, based upon the union of British and Boer, inheriting their traditions, cultivating their ideals, and pursuing their common ends.

But this Utopia seemed far away in 1896, and it was, alas! destined that many lives should be laid down, and much treasure expended, before its advent.  For the moment lamentations were rife in Johannesburg, and at many a dinner-party unprofitable discussions raged as to what would have happened had Dr. Jameson entered the city.  On this point no one could agree.  Some people said the town could have been starved out in a few days, and the water-supply cut off immediately; others asserted that the Boers were in reality overawed by Dr. Jameson’s name and prestige, and would have been glad to make terms.  The practical spirits opined that the only thing which would have saved the inhabitants in any case was the tame ending which actually came about—­namely, the High Commissioner’s intervention coupled with President Kruger’s moderation and wisdom in allowing England to punish her own irregular soldiers.  The more one heard of the whole affair, the more it seemed to resemble a scene out of a comic opera.  The only people at Johannesburg who had derived any advantage from the confusion were several hitherto unknown military commanders, who had proudly acquired the title of Colonel, and had promptly named a body of horse after themselves.  During the days before the final fiasco these leaders used to make short detours round the town in full regimentals, and finally fill up the time by being photographed in groups.  Mercifully, as it turned out, they were not ready for active service when Dr. Jameson was reported at Krugersdorp.

We made an excursion to the so-called battle-field before leaving for the South.  We started in a covered waggonette with no springs to speak of, drawn by six mules, and a pair of horses as leaders.  Two Kaffirs acted as charioteers, and kept up an incessant jabber in Dutch.  The one who held the reins looked good-natured enough, but the other, whose duty it was to wield the enormously long whip, had a most diabolical cast of countenance, in which cruelty and doggedness were both clearly depicted.  We found his face a true indication of his character before the end of the day.  Bumping gaily along, we soon left the well-built houses behind, and after passing the Malay quarter of the town, remarkable by reason of the quaint houses these blacks make out of paraffin tins, flattened out and nailed together with wonderful neatness, we emerged on the open veldt.  Of course the road