Waterworks, which I also visited, have proved a great
boon to this part, of the Colony. They were erected at a cost of
£400,000, the water supply being obtained from the Vaal River,
seventeen miles away.
After spending a most pleasant and agreeable week there, I left
Kimberley at six o'clock on the morning of June 7, in a wagon drawn
by eight horses, and accompanied by five friends, for Warrenton, en
route for Bechuanaland and the Transvaal. This mode of travelling was
quite a novelty to me. Although in this journey of altogether three
weeks' duration, we occasionally put up at one or two hotels, at some of
the towns, and sometimes at the farmhouses on our way, we frequently
"camped out" on the open veldt, and, after finishing our evening meal
of the rough-and-ready provisions we carried with us, supplemented by
the game we shot, we wrapped ourselves in our karosses, and slept for
the night under the canopy of the starlit sky. I occupied the wagon, my
more juvenile companions lying on the ground beneath it.
This was my first experience of sleeping in the open air in a wagon, and
this, too, in the depth of a South African winter.
The town of Warrenton is situated on the banks of the Vaal River, and
is forty-three miles north of Kimberley. It is at present an unimportant
town, but diamond diggings have been recently opened, and it is a good
cattle district. It took its name from Sir Charles Warren. Soon after
leaving Warrenton we crossed the Vaal River on a pontoon. Here a
trooper of the Mounted Police joined us, who was said to be a very
crack shot. He rode a charming and well-bred grey horse, and had two
admirably trained pointers with him. He offered me his horse to ride, he
taking my place in the wagon. I had a most enjoyable morning's ride on
one of the best little hacks I ever mounted, cantering over the veldt in
the track of the wagon for about eight or ten miles--through a charming
country with a superb view towards Bechuanaland, the veldt being
more wooded and picturesque, than I had hitherto seen.
We slept that night at Drake's Farm. Before starting the next morning, I
had a long conversation with Mr. Drake. He was born and brought up
in London, and was in business with the firm of Moses & Son, of
Cheapside, as a traveller. He came out here nine years ago with £10 in
his pocket, and travelled up from Port Elizabeth. Mr. Drake is evidently
a man of great energy, and perseverance. He has a high opinion of the
country, and a great idea of its future. His farm and store are situated on
the borders of Bechuanaland; but he now wishes he had settled there,
even in preference to where he is. He laughs at the idea of there being
no water. He says there is plenty to be found at from seventeen to
twenty-five feet below the surface. But he says it must be dug for. If
properly irrigated, it is his opinion that thousands and thousands of tons
of mealies might be grown. He is enthusiastic about the beauty of
Bechuanaland, and spoke of having seen parts of it in which the charms
of English scenery are to be found, and even greater attractions than in
many gentlemen's parks in the Old Country. His opinion of the climate
is very high. He told me he would on no account exchange his present
location, with its dry, pure, and bracing air, so healthful, invigorating,
and free, for the chill, and damps, and fogs of England. Mr. Drake was
in England during the year 1887 (the Jubilee year), but he was glad to
get back again to his home on the border of Bechuanaland--a very
comfortable one, as I can testify from my own personal experience.
[Illustration: Decorative]
[Illustration: Decorative]
BECHUANALAND.
I was very much struck with the appearance of the country on first
entering Bechuanaland. The vast plain, over which I was then riding on
horseback, was bounded by low, sloping hills, covered with brushwood
and trees. It suggested to me forcibly the idea of a "land of promise,"
wanting only an intelligent and energetic people to secure its proper
and successful development.
In fact, as a field for settlement, I entirely concur with the remarks of
Mr. John Mackenzie, who has worked for so many years in
Bechuanaland, and who states in his recent work, entitled, "Austral
Africa"--
"I come now to give my own thoughts as to the capabilities of
Bechuanaland as a field for colonisation. My mind reverts at once to
thrifty, and laborious people who are battling for dear-life on some
small holding in England or Scotland,
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