South Africa, vol. II.

The number here will be seen to amount to 500,000, whereas the Galekas of whom alone we are speaking when we talk of the hostile Kafirs across the Kei are not in this return given as being more than 66,000. It must always be remembered that there has been no census taken of these tribes and that many of these numbers are estimated by little more than guess work. The Fingos and the mixed inhabitants of the district called the Idutywa Reserve are already British subjects. The Tembus are not so nominally; but are for the most part obedient to British magistrates who live among them. The inhabitants of the Gatberg are natives who live there because the place is vacant for them,—also with a British magistrate. They certainly cannot be regarded as an independent tribe. The Griquas of Adam Kok’s Land are bastard Hottentots who have been moved west from one locality to another, and now inhabit a country which used to be called No Man’s Land and which was probably cleared of its old inhabitants by Chaka, the great Zulu king. They are British subjects. Of the Galekas and Bomvanas I have said enough. The Pondomisi are a small tribe of independent Kafirs among whom a British magistrate lives. Then we come to the Pondos, the most numerous tribe of all,—so much so that the reader will be inclined to say that, while the Pondos remain independent, Kafraria cannot become English. But the Pondos are a very much less notorious people than the Galekas,—and constitute a tribe who will probably be willing to annex themselves when the Bomvanas and Galekas are annexed. Their present condition is rather remarkable. The person most dominant among them is one Mrs. Jenkins, the widow of a missionary, who is said to rule them easily, pleasantly, and prudently. Mrs. Jenkins, however, cannot live for ever. But it is thought that the Pondos will of their own accord become British subjects even during the reign of Mrs. Jenkins. The mouth of the St. John’s River is in the country of the Pondos, and it would be greatly to the benefit of South Eastern Africa generally that a harbour for the purposes of commerce should be opened on that portion of the coast.

CHAPTER XV.

THE BASUTOS.

Of the Basutos I have said something in my attempt to tell the story of the Orange Free State; but the tribe still occupy so large a space in South Africa and has made itself so conspicuous in South African affairs as to require some further short mention for the elucidation of South African history. They are a people who have been moved, up and down, about South Africa and have thus travelled much, who have come to be located on the land they now hold partly as refugees and partly as conquerors, who thirty years ago had a great Chief called Moshesh of whom some have asserted that he was a Christian, and others that he was a determined Savage, who are still to be found in various parts of South Africa, and who perhaps possess in their head-quarters of Basuto Land the very best agricultural soil on the continent. There are at present supposed to be about 127,000 of them settled on this land, among whom there would be according to the general computation about 21,000 fighting warriors. The fighting men are estimated to be a sixth of the whole tribe,—so that every adult male not incapacitated by age or misfortune is counted as a fighting man. To imagine, however, that if the Basutos were to go to war they could bring an army of 20,000 men into the field, would be to pay an unmerited compliment to their power of combination, to their commissariat supplies, and to their general patriotism. But as in late years they have bought a great many ploughs, as they are great growers of corn, and as they have become lovers of trade, lovers of money, growers of wool, and friends of the English,—as they are loyal English subjects,—we will not be indignant with them on account of any falling off in their military capacity.

The Basutos are not Kafirs or Zulus. They are a branch of the Bechuanas a large tribe or rather race of Natives whose own territory lies west of the Transvaal, and between that and the great Kalahari Desert. I have already spoke of the Baralongs of Thaba ’Ncho as having come out from among the same race. Were I to say much of the Bechuanas I should find myself wandering again all over South Africa. I will therefore not pursue them further, merely remarking that they too are become irrepressible, and that before long we shall find ourselves compelled to annex one branch of them after another in connection with Griqualand West and the Diamond Fields.

The first record, in date, which I have read of the Basutos is in a simple volume written by a Missionary, the Rev. E. Cassalis, who was one of a party of French Protestants sent out nearly 50 years ago from Paris to the Cape with the double object of comforting the descendants of the French emigrants and of converting the Natives. It was the fate of M. Cassalis,—who though he writes in English I presume to have been a Frenchman,—to establish a mission at a place called Moriah in Basutoland in 1833, and to write a book about Basuto Manners. He does not really tell us very much about the people, as, with laudable enthusiasm, he is more intent on the ways of Providence than on the details of history. If hardships and misfortunes come he recognises them as precious balms. If they are warded off he sees the special mercy of the Lord to him and his flock. The hyænas were allowed to take his sheep, but an “inexorable lion,” who made the “desert echo with the majestic sounds of his voice,” was not permitted by Providence to touch himself. Something, however, is to be gleaned from his tale. The people among whom he had come were harassed terribly by enemies. They were continually attacked by Moselekatze, the Chief of the Matabeles, whom M. Cassalis calls Zulus;[15]—and also by roaming bands of the Korannas, a tribe of Bedouin South African Savages, only one degree, if one degree, better than the Bushmen. With these Moshesh was always fighting, entrenching himself when hard pressed on a high rock called Thaba Bosio or Thaba Bosigo, from whence he would hurl down stones upon his assailants very much to their dismay. The Basutos seem to have been a brave people, but reduced by their enemies to very hard straits, so that they were driven by want, in those comparatively modern days,—for we are speaking of a period within the lifetime of the father of the existing Chief of the tribe,—to have resort to cannibalism for support.

It has been asserted, with general truth, that cannibalism has not been a vice of South African Natives. It was not found among the Hottentots, nor even among the Bushmen except with rare instances, nor among the Kafirs or Zulus. There is no reason to believe that the Basutos brought the practice with them from among their ancestors the Bechuanas. But there is ample evidence that they practised it during the time of their wars with the Matabeles and Korannas, and reason to suppose that it has been carried on in a hidden, shame-faced way, in opposition to the endeavours of their Chiefs, down to within a very modern date. M. Cassalis tells us the stories of cannibalism which he had heard from Natives on his arrival in the country, and, giving 1820 as a date, says that Moshesh put an end to these horrors. He acknowledges in a note that he has been accused of inventing these details for the sake “of giving a dramatic interest to our recital,”—and goes on to declare that when he was in the country, “there were thirty or forty villages the entire population of which is composed of those who were formerly cannibals and who make no secret of their past life.” Had I read all this without light from subsequent record, I should have felt that M. Cassalis was a writer far too simple and too honest to have invented anything for the sake of “dramatic interest:”—but that he was a man who might have been hoaxed even by thirty or forty villages. Having been taught to believe that Cannibalism had not prevailed in South Africa, I think I might have doubted the unaided testimony of the French missionary. But there is a testimony very much subsequent which I cannot doubt.

In November 1869 there appeared a paper in “Once a Week” called “Ethnological Curiosities from South Africa.” From whom it was supplied to that periodical neither do I know,—nor does the gentleman by whom the body of the paper was written. The assumed name of “Leyland” is there given to that gentleman, without any authority for the change, and it is told that he had contributed the narrative to the Ethnological Society and had called it a visit to the Cannibal Caves. This is true; but the name of the gentleman was Mr. Bowker who was the first Government Agent in Basutoland. He was not at all sorry to see his paper reappearing in so respectable a periodical, but has never known how it reached “Once a Week,” or why he was called Mr. Leyland. This is not of much general interest; but he goes on to describe how he, and a party with him, were taken by guides up the side of a mountain, and by a difficult pathway into a cave. The date is not given, but the visit occurred in 1868. The cavern is then described as being black with the smoke of fires, and the floor as being strewn with the bones of human beings,—chiefly those of women and children. “The marrow bones were split into small pieces, the rounded joints alone being left unbroken. Only a few of these bones were charred by fire, showing that the prevailing taste had been for boiled rather than for roast meat.” Again he says, “I saw while at the cavern unmistakeable evidence that the custom has not been altogether abandoned, for among the numerous bones were a few that appeared very recent. They were apparently those of a tall bony individual with a skull hard as bronze. In the joints of these bones the marrow and fatty substances were still evident, showing but too plainly that many months had not elapsed since he met his fate.” This was as late as 1868.

Again. “There are still a good many old Cannibals in existence. On the day that we visited the cavern I was introduced to one of them, who is now living not very far from his former dwelling-place. He is a man of about sixty, and, not to speak from prejudice, one of the most God-lost looking ruffians that I ever beheld in my life. In former days when he was a young man dwelling in the cavern, he captured during one of his hunting expeditions three young women. From these he selected the best-looking as a partner for life. The other two went to stock his larder.”

This comes from a gentleman who saw the ghastly remains, who well knows the people of whom he is speaking, and who from his official position has had better means of knowing than any other European. They come, too, from a gentleman who is still alive to answer for his story should a doubt be thrown upon it. His idea is that a certain number of the Basutos had been driven into the terrible custom by famine caused by continued wars, and had afterwards carried it on from addiction to the taste which had been thus generated. M. Cassalis, who was right enough in saying that the Basutos were Cannibals, was wrong only in supposing that his disciple Moshesh had been able to suppress the abomination. There is, however, reason to believe that it has now been suppressed.

The noble simplicity of individual missionaries as to the success of their own efforts is often charming and painful at the same time;—charming as shewing their complete enthusiasm, and painful when contrasted with the results. M. Cassalis tells us how Moshesh used to dine with him in the middle of the day, on Sunday, because, having come down from his mountain to morning service, he could not go up the hill for dinner, and so be back again in time for afternoon prayers. Moshesh used to have his dinner inside the missionary’s house, and the rest of the congregation from the mountain would remain outside, around, not wasting their time, but diligently learning to read. And yet I fear that there are not many Christians now on the mountain, which is still well known as Thaba Bosigo.

But Moshesh though he was not a Christian was a great Chief, and gradually under him the Basutos became a great tribe. Probably their success arose from the fact that the land on which they lived was fertile. The same cause has probably led to their subsequent misfortunes,—the fertility of the land having offered temptation to others. Their mountains and valleys became populated, and,—as the mountains and valleys of a still uncivilized race,—very rich. But there arose questions of boundaries, which so often became questions of robbery. I have already told how Maroco the Chief of the Baralongs at Thaba ’Ncho held that the land he occupied was his by right of purchase, and how Moshesh had declared that he had never sold an inch of his land. Moshesh was very fond of allegory in his arguments. The Baralongs were certainly living on land that had belonged to the Basutos; but Moshesh declared that, “he had lent them the cow to milk; they could use her; but he could not sell the cow.” For the full understanding of this it must be known that no Kafir, no Zulu, no Basuto can bear the idea of selling his cattle. And then the Boers of the Free State who had settled upon Basutoland, would have it that they owned the land. There came days of terrible fighting between the Basutos and the Boers,—and of renewed fighting between the Basutos and other tribes. One can imagine that they should again have been driven by famine to that cannibalism of which Mr. Bowker saw the recent marks. They were at a very low ebb at Thaba Bosigo, being at last almost eaten up by President Brand, and the Boers. Then they asked for British intervention, and at last, in 1868, Sir Philip Wodehouse issued a proclamation in which he declared them to be British subjects. A line of boundary was established between them and the Orange Republic, giving the Orange Republic the “Conquered Territory” which they still call by that objectionable name, but leaving to the Basutos the possession of a rich district which seems to be sufficient for their wants. The Orange Republic, or Free State, did not at all like what was done by the British. Their politicians still insisted that Great Britain was precluded by treaty from concerning itself with any native tribe north of the Orange River. It tried to make the most of its position,—naturally enough. Perhaps it did make the most of its position, for it now holds the peaceable possession of a great portion of the land of its late enemies, and no longer has a single hostile nation on its borders. We may say that the possibility of a hostile nation has passed away. Nothing can be more secure than the condition of the Orange Republic since Great Britain has secured her borders. There was a convention at Aliwal North, and the boundary line was permanently settled on March 12, 1869.

Since that time the Basutos have been a peculiarly flourishing people, living under the chieftainship of a junior Moshesh, but undoubted subjects of the Queen of England. Their territory is a part of the Cape Colony, which they help to support by the taxes they pay. Their hut tax, at the rate of 10s. a hut amounts to £4,000 a year. Why it should not come to more I do not understand, as, according to the usual calculation of four to a hut, there should be about 32,000 huts among them, which would give £16,000. They also contribute £2,000 a year in other taxes. In the year ended 30 June, 1876, they were governed, instructed, and generally provided for at the rate of £7,644 15s. 1d. As their revenue is hardly £5,000, this would shew a serious deficiency,—but they who do the finance work for Basutoland have a very large balance in hand, amounting, after the making up of all deficiencies at the date above named, to £22,577 4s. These figures are taken from the last published financial Report of the Cape of Good Hope. I need not tell an experienced reader that no book or document is produced so unintelligible to an uninitiated reader as an official financial report. Why should Basutoland with a revenue of £5,000 a year have a Treasury Balance of £22,577 4s.? Every clerk concerned in the getting up of that report no doubt knows all about it. It is not perhaps intended that any one else should understand it. I have said above that the Basutos are governed and instructed. Alas, no! Under the general head of expenditure, education is a conspicuous detail; but it is followed by no figures. It seems to be admitted that something should be expended for the teaching of the Basutos; but that the duty so acknowledged is not performed.

CHAPTER XVI.

NAMAQUALAND.

A glance at the map of South Africa will shew two regions on the Western side of the Continent to which the name of Namaqualand is given, north and south of the Orange River. The former is Great Namaqualand and cannot as yet be said to form a part of the British Empire. But as it at present belongs to nobody, and is tenanted,—as far as it is tenanted at all,—by a very sparse sprinkling of Hottentots, Bushmen, and Korannas, and as it is undoubtedly metalliferous, it is probable that it will be annexed sooner or later.[16] Copper has been found north of the Orange River and that copper will not long be left undisturbed. North of Great Namaqualand is Damaraland, whence too have come tokens of copper and whisperings of gold. Even to these hard hot unfertile sandy regions Dutch farmers have trekked in order that they might live solitary, unseen, and independent. We need not, however, follow them at present to a country which is almost rainless and almost uninhabited, and for which we are not as yet responsible. Little Namaqualand, south of the Orange River, is one of the electoral divisions of the Cape Colony, and to that I will confine the few remarks which I will make as to this uncomfortable district.

It is for its copper and for its copper alone that Little Namaqualand is of any real value. On looking at the printed reports of the Commissioner and Magistrate for the division, made in 1874, 1875, and 1876, I find nothing but misfortune mentioned,—except in regard to the copper mines. “1874,” says the report for that year, “has been a very bad year.” “There has, so to say, been no corn in the land.” “One person after thrashing out his corn obtained three pannicans.” Poor farmers! “Living is very expensive, and were it not for the tram line”—a railroad made by the Copper Company nearly to Springbok Fontein, which is the seat of government and the magistrate’s residence,—“we would have been on the verge of starvation.” Poor magistrate! Then the report goes on. “The Ookiep mine is steadily progressing.” “The yield of ore during the year has been 10,000 tons.” It is pretty nearly as bad in 1875. “The rain came late in the year, and the yield in corn was very small.” “It is almost impossible to describe the poverty in which the poorer classes exist in a severe drought.” And a severe drought is the normal condition of the country in which the fall of rain and dew together does not exceed five inches in the year. But the copper enterprise was flourishing. “The Ookiep mine,” says the same report, “has been steadily progressing, its yield being now 1,000 tons per month.” In 1876 rural matters were not much better. “The water supply all over the country has much decreased, and the farmers have been put to great straits in consequence.” But there is comfort in the copper. “The Ookiep mine still continues in the same flourishing condition.” What most raises our surprise in this is that there should be farmers at all in such a country as Namaqualand.

The following is Mr. Theal’s description of the district. “A long narrow belt, twenty thousand square miles in extent, it presents to the eye nothing but a dismal succession of hill and gorge and sandy plain, all bare and desolate.” “A land of drought and famine, of blinding glare and fiery blast,—such is the country of the Little Namaquas. From time immemorial it has been the home of a few wretched Hottentots who were almost safe in such a desert from even European intruders. Half a dozen missionaries and two or three score of farmers were the sole representatives of civilization among these wandering Savages. One individual to about three square miles was all that the land was capable of supporting.”

But there is copper in the regions near the coast and consequently Little Namaqualand is becoming an important and a rich district. Before the Dutch came the Hottentots had found copper here and had used it for their ornaments. In 1683, when the Dutch government was still young and the Dutch territory still small, an expedition was sent by the Dutch Governor in search of copper to the very region in which the Cape Copper Company is now carrying on its works. But the coast was severe and the land hard to travellers, and it was found difficult to get the ore down to the sea. The Dutch therefore abandoned the undertaking and the copper was left at rest for a century and a half. The first renewed attempt was made in 1835, and that was unsuccessful. It was not till 1852 that the works were commenced which led to the present flourishing condition of the South African copper mines.

For some few years after this there seems to have been a copper mania in South Africa,—as there was a railway mania in England, and a gold mania in Australia, and a diamond mania in Griqualand West. People with a little money rushed to the country and lost that little. And those who had none rushed also to the copper mines and failed to enrich themselves as they had expected. In 1863 Messrs. Phillips and King, who had commenced their work in 1852, established the company which is still known as the Cape Copper Mining Company,—and that company has been thoroughly successful altogether, through the Ookiep mine to which the magistrate in all the reports from which I have quoted has referred as the centre and source of Namaqualand prosperity.

About four hundred miles north-west of the Cape and forty-five miles south of the Orange River there is a little harbour called Port Nolloth in Robben Bay. The neighbourhood is described as being destitute of all good things. The country in this neighbourhood is sandy and barren, and without water. We are told that water may be obtained by digging in the sand, but that when obtained it is brackish. But here is the outlet for South African copper, and therefore the little port is becoming a place of importance. Sailing vessels come from Swansea for the ore, and about once a fortnight a little steamer comes here from Capetown bringing necessaries of life to its inhabitants and such comforts as money can give in a place so desolate and hideous.

From hence there is a railway running 60 miles up to the foot of the mountains constructed by the Copper Mining Company for the use of their men and for bringing down the ore to the coast. This railway goes to Great Ookiep mine, which is distant but a few miles from the miserable little town called Springbok Fontein, which is the capital of the district. The Ookiep mine is thus described in the Gazeteer attached to Messrs. Silver’s South African Guide Book. It is “one of the most important copper mines in existence, its annual production of very rich ore being nearly 7,000 tons;”—since that was written the amount has been considerably increased;—“and the deeper the shafts are sunk the more extensive appears the area of ore producing ground. The mine is now sunk to a depth of 80 fathoms, but exhibits no sign of decreasing production.” “These Ookiep ores are found in Europe to be easier smelted than the ores of any other mines whatever, and the deposit of copper ore in the locality seems quite unlimited.”

There have been various other mines tried in the vicinity, and there can be no doubt from the indications of copper which are found all around that the working of copper in the district will before long be carried very much further than at present. But up to this time the Ookiep mine is the only one that has paid its expenses and given a considerable profit. During the copper fury various attempts were made all of which failed. The existing Company, which has been as a whole exceedingly prosperous, has made many trials at other spots none of which according to their own report have been altogether successful. I quote the following extracts from the report made by its own officers and published by the Company in 1877. “The operations at Spectakel Mine have been attended with almost unvarying ill fortune.” “It is thought that the Kilduncan centre has had fair trial and as the ground looks unpromising the miners have been withdrawn.” “Although yielding quantities of low class ore the workings at Narrap have not so far proved remunerative.” “The levels at Karolusberg have also failed to reveal anything valuable.” “A good deal of preparatory work has been done at this place,”—Nabapeep. “This may be regarded as the most promising trial mine belonging to the Company.” These are all the adventures yet made except that of the Ookiep mine, but that alone has been so lucky that the yield in 1876 amounted to “10,765 tons of 21 cwt., nett dry weight, averaging 28½? per cent.” This perhaps, to the uninitiated mind may give but a hazy idea of the real result of the speculation. But when we are told that only £7 a share has been paid up, and that £4 per annum profit has been paid on each share, in spite of the failure of other adventures, then the success of the great Ookiep mine looms clear to the most uninstructed understanding.

There can be no doubt but that Namaqualand will prove to be one of the great copper producing countries of the earth; and as little, I fear, that it is in all other respects one of the most unfortunate and undesirable. I have spoken to some whose duties have required them to visit Springbok Fontein or to frequent Port Nolloth, and they have all spoken of their past experiences without expressing any wish to revisit those places. Missionaries have gone to this land as elsewhere, striving to carry Christianity among, perhaps, as low a form of humanity as there is on the earth,—with the exception of the quickly departing Australian aboriginal. They have probably done something, if only a little, both towards raising the intellect and relieving the wants of those among whom they have placed themselves. But the Bushmen and the Korannas are races very hopeless. Men who have been called upon by Nature to live in so barren a region,—a country almost destitute of water and therefore almost destitute of grass, can hardly be expected to raise themselves above the lowest habits and the lowest tastes incident to man. If anything can give them a chance of rising in the world it will be such enterprise as that of the Cape Mining Company, and such success as that of the Ookiep mine.

CHAPTER XVII.

CONCLUSION.

I have now finished my task and am writing my last chapter as I make my way home across the Bay of Biscay. It has been laborious enough but has been made very pleasant by the unvarying kindness of every one with whom I have come in contact. My thanks are specially due to those who have travelled with me or allowed me to travel with them. I have had the good fortune never to have been alone on the road,—and thus that which would otherwise have been inexpressibly tedious has been made pleasant. I must take this last opportunity of repeating here, what I have said more than once before, that my thanks in this respect are due to the Dutch as warmly as to the English. I am disposed to think that a wrong impression as to the so-called Dutch Boer of South Africa has become common at home. It has been imagined by some people,—I must acknowledge to have received such an impression myself,—that the Boer was a European who had retrograded from civilization, and had become savage, barbarous, and unkindly. There can be no greater mistake. The courtesies of life are as dear to him as to any European. The circumstances of his secluded life have made him unprogressive. It may, however, be that the same circumstances have maintained with him that hospitality for strangers and easy unobtrusive familiarity of manners, which the contests and rapidity of modern life have banished from us in Europe. The Dutch Boer, with all his roughness, is a gentleman in his manners from his head to his heels.

When a man has travelled through a country under beneficent auspices, and has had everything shewn to him and explained to him with frank courtesy, he seems to be almost guilty of a breach of hospitality if, on his coming away, he speaks otherwise than in glowing terms of the country where he has been so received. I know that I have left behind me friends in South Africa who, when they shall have read my book or shall hear how I have spoken of their Institutions, will be ill satisfied with me. I specially fear this in regard to the Cape Colony where I can go on all fours neither with the party in power who think that parliamentary forms of Government must be serviceable for South Africa, because they have been proved to be so for Canada, Australia, and New Zealand; nor with those opposed to them who would fain keep the native races in subjection by military power. I would make the Kafir in all respects equal to the white man;—but I would give him no voting power till he is equal to the white man in education as in other things.

It will be brought against me as an accusation that I have made my enquiries and have written my book in a hurry. It has been done hurriedly. Day by day as I have travelled about the continent in the direction indicated in its pages I have written my book. The things which I have seen have been described within a few hours of my seeing them. The words that I have heard have been made available for what they were worth,—as far as it was within my power to do so,—before they were forgotten. A book so written must often be inaccurate; but it may possibly have something in it of freshness to atone for its inaccuracies. In writing such a book a man has for a time to fill himself exclusively with his subject,—to make every thought that he has South African for the time, to give all his energy to the work in hand, to talk about it, fight about it, think about it, write about it, and dream about it. This I have endeavoured to do, and here is the result. To spend five years in studying a country and then to come home and devote five more to writing a book about it, is altogether out of my way. The man who can do it will achieve much more than I shall. But had I ever attempted it in writing other books I should have failed worse than I have done. Had I thought of it in regard to South Africa my book would never have been written at all.

I fancy that I owe an apology to some whom I have answered rather shortly when they have scolded me for not making a longer stay in their own peculiar spots. “You have come to write a book about South Africa and you have no right to go away without devoting a day to my ——” sugar plantation, or distillery, or whatever the interesting enterprise may have been. “You have only been three days in our town and I don’t think you are doing us justice.” It has been hard to answer these accusations with a full explanation of all the facts,—including the special fact,—unimportant to all but one or two, that South Africa with all its charms is not so comfortable at my present age as the arm-chair in my own book room. But in truth the man who has an interesting enterprise of his own or who patriotically thinks that his own town only wants to be known to be recognized as a Paradise among municipalities would, if their power were as great as their zeal, render such a task as that I have undertaken altogether impossible. The consciousness of their own merit robs them of all sense of proportion. Such a one will acknowledge that South Africa is large;—but South Africa will not be as large to him as his own mill or his own Chamber of Commerce, and he will not believe that eyes seeing other than his eyes can be worthy of any credit. I know that I did not go to see this gentleman’s orchard as I half promised, or the other gentleman’s collection of photographs, and I here beg their pardons and pray them to remember how many things I had to see and how many miles I had to travel.

That I have visited all European South Africa I cannot boast. The country is very large. We may say so large as to be at present limitless. We do not as yet at all know our own boundaries. But I visited the seat of Government in each district, and, beyond the Capitals, saw enough of the life and ways of each of them to justify me, I hope, in speaking of their condition and their prospects. I have also endeavoured to explain roughly the way in which each of these districts became what it now is. In doing this I have taken my facts partly from those who have gone before me in writing the history of South Africa,—whose names I have mentioned in my introductory chapter,—partly from official records, and partly from the words of those who witnessed and perhaps bore a share in the changes as they were made. The first thing an Englishman has to understand in the story of South Africa is the fact that the great and almost unnatural extension of our colonization,—unnatural when the small number of English emigrants who have gone there is considered,—has been produced by the continued desire of the Dutch farmers to take themselves out of the reach of English laws, and English feelings. The abolition of slavery was the great cause of this,—though not the only cause; and the abolition of slavery in British dominions is now only forty years old. Since that time Natal, the Transvaal, the Orange Free State, and Griqualand West have sprung into existence, and they were all, in the first instance, peopled by sturdy Dutchmen running away from the to them disgusting savour of Exeter Hall. They would encounter anything, go anywhere, rather than submit to British philanthropy. Then we have run after them with our philanthropy in our hands,—with such results as I have endeavoured to depict in these pages.

This is the first thing that we shall have to understand,—but as the mind comes to dwell on the subject it will not be the chief thing. It must be the first naturally. To an Englishman the Cape of Good Hope, and Natal, and now the Transvaal are British Colonies,—with a British history, short or long. The way in which we became possessed of these and the manner in which they have been ruled; the trouble or the glory which have come to us from them; the success of them or the failure in affording homes for our ever-increasing population;—these are the questions which must affect us first. But when we learn that in those South African Colonies though we may not have succeeded in making homes for many English,—not even comparatively for many Europeans,—we have become the arbiters of the homes, the masters of the destinies, of millions of black men; when we recognize the fact that here we have imposed upon us the duty of civilizing, of training to the yoke of labour and releasing from the yoke of slavery a strong, vital, increasing and intelligent population; when this becomes plain to us, as I think it must become plain,—then we shall know that the chief thing to be regarded is our duty to the nations over which we have made ourselves the masters.

South Africa is a country of black men,—and not of white men. It has been so; it is so; and it will continue to be so. In this respect it is altogether unlike Australia, unlike the Canadas, and unlike New Zealand. And, as it is unlike them, so should it be to us a matter of much purer gratification than are those successful Colonies. There we have gone with our ploughs and with our brandy, with all the good and with all the evil which our civilization has produced, and throughout the lands the native races have perished by their contact with us. They have withered by commune with us as the weaker weedy grasses of Nature’s first planting wither and die wherever come the hardier plants, which science added to nature has produced. I am not among those who say that this has been caused by our cruelty. It has often been that we have struggled our very best to make our landing on a shore an unmixed blessing to those to whom we have come. In New Zealand we strove hard for this;—but in New Zealand the middle of the next century will probably hear of the existence of some solitary last Maori. It may be that this was necessary. All the evidence we have seems to show that it was so. But it is hardly the less sad because it was necessary. In Australia we have been successful. We are clothed with its wools. Our coffers are filled with its gold. Our brothers and our children are living there in bounteous plenty. But during the century that we have been there we have caused the entire population of a whole continent to perish. It is impossible to think of such prosperity without a dash of suffering, without a pang of remorse.

In South Africa it is not so. The tribes which before our coming were wont to destroy themselves in civil wars have doubled their population since we have turned their assagais to ploughshares. Thousands, ten thousands of them, are working for wages. Even beyond the realms which we call our own we have stopped the cruelties of the Chiefs and the no less fatal superstitions of the priests. The Kafir and the Zulu are free men, and understand altogether the privileges of their freedom. In one town of 18,000 inhabitants, 10,000 of them are now receiving 10s. a week each man, in addition to their diet. Here at any rate we have not come as a blighting poison to the races whom we have found in the country of our adoption. This I think ought to endear South Africa to us.

But it must at the same time tell us that South Africa is a black country and not a white one;—that the important person in South Africa is the Kafir and the Zulu, the Bechuana and the Hottentot;—not the Dutchman or the Englishman. On the subject of population I have already shewn that the information at my command is a little confused. Such confusion cannot be avoided when only estimates are made. But if I take credit for 340,000 white people in South Africa, I certainly claim as many as the country holds;—and I am probably within the mark if I say that our direct influence extends over 3,000,000 of Natives. What is the number of British subjects cannot even be estimated, because we do not know our Transvaal limits. There are also whole tribes to the North-West, in Bechuanaland, Damaraland, and Namaqualand anxious to be annexed but not yet annexed. To all those we owe the duty of protection, and all of them before long will be British subjects. As in India or Ceylon, where the people are a coloured people, Asiatic and not European, it is our first duty to govern them so that they may prosper, to defend them from ill-usage, to teach them what we know ourselves, to make them free, so in South Africa it is our chief duty to do the same thing for the Natives there. The white man is the master, and the master can generally protect himself. He can avail himself of the laws, and will always have so many points in his favour that a paternal government need not be much harassed on his account. Compared with the Native he is numerically but one to ten. But in strength, influence, and capacity he has ten to one the best of it.

What is our duty to the Kafir or Zulu? There are so many views of our duty! One believes that we have done the important thing if we teach him to sing hymns. Another would give him back,—say a tenth of the land that has been taken away from him, and then leave him. A third, the most confident of them all, thinks that everything hangs on “a rod of iron,”—between which and slavery the distance is very narrow. The rod of iron generally means compelled work, the amount of wages to be settled by the judgment of the master. A fourth would give him a franchise and let him vote for a Member of Parliament,—which of course includes the privilege of becoming a Member of Parliament, and of becoming Prime Minister if he can get enough of his own class to back him.

I am afraid that I cannot agree altogether with any of these four. The hymns, which as I speak of them include all religious teaching, have as yet gone but a very little way. Something has been done,—that something having shewn itself rather in a little book-learning than in amelioration of conduct as the result of comprehended Christianity. But the work will progress. In its way it is good, though the good done is so little commensurate with the missionary labour given and the missionary money spent!

The land scheme,—the giving up of locations to the people,—is good also to some extent if it be unmixed with such missionary attempts as some which I have attempted to describe as existing in the western province of the Cape Colony. There is a certain justice in it, and it enables the people to fall gradually into the way of working for wages. It has on the other hand the counterbalancing tendency of teaching the people to think that they can live idle on their own land,—as used to be the case with the Irishmen who held a couple of acres of ground.

“The iron rod” is to me abominable. It means always some other treatment for the coloured man than that which is given to the white man. There can be no good done till the two stand before the law exactly on the same ground. The “iron-rodder” desires to get work out of the black man;—and so do I, and so does every friend of the black man. The question is how the work shall be got out of them. “Make him work,” says the iron-rodder. “There he is, idle, fat as a pig on stolen mutton, and doing nothing; with thews and sinews by which I could be made so comfortable, if only I could use them.” “But how are you entitled to his work?” is the answer readiest at hand. “Because he steals my cattle,” says the iron-rodder, generally with a very limited amount of truth and less of logic. Because his cattle have been stolen once or twice he would subject the whole race to slavery,—unconscious that the slave’s work, if he could get it, would in the long run be very much less profitable to him than the free labour by which, in spite of all his assertions to the contrary, he does till his land, and herd his cattle, and shear his sheep and garner his wealth.

Then comes the question of the franchise. He who would give the black man a vote is generally the black man’s most advanced friend, the direct enemy of the iron-rodder, and is to be found in London rather than in South Africa. To such a one I would say certainly let the black man have the franchise on the same terms as the white man. In broadening or curtailing the privilege of voting there should be no expressed reference to colour. The word should not appear in any Act of any Parliament by which the franchise is regulated. If it be so expressed there cannot be that equality before the law without which we cannot divest ourselves of the sin of selfish ascendancy. But the franchise may be so regulated that the black man cannot enjoy it till he has qualified himself,—as the white man at any rate ought to qualify himself. Exclusion of this nature was intended when the existing law of the Cape Colony was passed. A man cannot vote till he has become a fixed resident, and shall be earning 10s. a week wages and his diet. When this scale was fixed it was imagined that it would exclude all but a very small number of Kafirs. But a few years has so improved the condition of the Kafirs that many thousands are now earning the wages necessary for a qualification. “Then by all means let them vote,” will say the friend of the Negro in Exeter Hall or the House of Commons,—perhaps without giving quite time enough to calculating the result. Does this friend of the Negro in his heart think that the black man is fit to assume political ascendancy over the white;—or that the white man would remain in South Africa and endure it? The white man would not remain, and if the white man were gone, the black man would return to his savagery. Very much has been done;—quite as much probably as we have a right to expect from the time which has been employed. But the black man is not yet civilized in South Africa and, with a few exceptions, is not fit for political power. The safeguard against the possible evil of which I have spoken is the idea that the Kafir is not as yet awake to the meaning of political power and therefore will not exercise the privilege of voting when it is given to him. It may be so at present, but I do not relish the political security which is to come, not from the absence of danger but from the assumed ignorance of those who might be dangerous. An understanding of the nature of the privilege will come before fitness for its exercise;—and then there may be danger. Thus we are driven back to the great question whether a country is fit for parliamentary institutions in which the body of the population is unfit for the privilege of voting.

Our duty to the Kafir of course is to civilize him,—so to treat him that as years roll on he will manifestly be the better for our coming to his land. I do not think that missionaries will do this, or fractions of land,—little Kafrarias, as it may be, separated off for their uses. The present position of Kreli and his Galekas who were to have dwelt in peace on their own territory across the Kei, is proof of this. The iron rod certainly will not do it. Nor will the franchise. But equality of law, equality of treatment, will do it;—and, I am glad to say, has already gone far towards doing it. The Kafir can make his own contract for his own labour the same as a white man;—can leave his job of work or take it as independently as the white workman;—but not more so. Encouraged by this treatment he is travelling hither and thither in quest of work, and is quickly learning that order and those wants which together make the only sure road to civilization.

The stranger in South Africa will constantly be told that the coloured man will not work, and that this is the one insuperable cause by which the progress of the country is impeded. It will be the first word whispered into his ear when he arrives, and the last assurance hurled after him as he leaves the coast. And yet during his whole sojourn in the country he will see all the work of the world around him done by the hands of coloured people. It will be so in Capetown far away from the Kafirs. It will be so on the homesteads of the Dutch in the western province. It will be so in the thriving commercial towns of the eastern province. From one end of Natal to the other he will find that all the work is done by Zulus. It will be the same in the Transvaal and the same even in the Orange Free State. Even there whenever work is done for wages it is done by coloured hands. When he gets to the Diamond Fields, he will find the mines swarming with black labour. And yet he will be told that the “nigger” will not work!

The meaning of the assertion is this;—that the “nigger” cannot be made to work whether he will or no. He will work for a day or two, perhaps a week or two, at a rate of wages sufficient to supply his wants for double the time, and will then decline, with a smile, to work any longer just then,—let the employer’s need be what it may. Now the employer has old European ideas in his head, even though he may have been born in the Colony. The poor rural labourer in England must work. He cannot live for four days on the wages of two. If he were to decline there would be the poor house, the Guardians, and all the horrors of Bumbledom before him. He therefore must work. And that “must,” which is known to exist as to the labouring Englishman and labouring Frenchman, creates a feeling that a similar necessity should coerce the Kafir. Doubtless it will come to be so. It is one of the penalties of civilization,—a penalty, or, shall we say, a blessing. But, till it does come, it cannot be assumed,—without a retrogression to slavery. Men in South Africa, the employers of much labour and the would-be employers of more, talk of the English vagrancy laws,—alleging that these Kafirs are vagrants, and should be treated as vagrants would be treated in England;—as though the law in England compelled any man to work who had means of living without work. The law in England will not make the Duke of —— work; nor will it make Hodge work if Hodge has 2s. a day of his own to live on and behaves himself.

This cry as to labour and the want of labour, is in truth a question of wages. A farmer in England will too often feel that the little profit of his farm is being carried away by that extra 2s. a week which the state of the labour market compels him to pay to his workmen. The rise of wages among the coloured people in South Africa has been much quicker than it ever was in England. In parts of Natal a Zulu may still be hired for his diet of Indian corn and 7s. a month. In Kafraria, about King Williamstown, men were earning 2s. 6d. a day when I was there. I have seen coloured labourers earning 4s. 6d. a day for the simple duty of washing wool. All this has to equalize itself, and while it is doing so, of course there is difficulty. The white man thinks that the solution of the difficulty should be left to him. It is disparaging to his pride that the black man should be so far master of the situation as to be able to fix his own wages.

In the meantime, however, the matter is fixed. The work is done by black men. They plough, they reap; they herd and shear the sheep; they drive the oxen; they load the waggons; they carry the bricks; they draw the water; they hew the wood; they brush the clothes; they clean the boots; they run the posts; they make the roads; they wait at table; they cook the food; they wash the wool; they press the grapes; they kill the beef and mutton; they dig the gardens; they plaster the walls; they feed the horses;—and they find the diamonds. A South African farmer and a South African wool grower and a South African shopkeeper will all boast that South Africa is a productive country. If it be so she is productive altogether by means of black labour.

Another allegation very common in the mouth of the “iron-rodders” is that the Kafir—steals. “A nasty beastly thief that will never leave your cattle alone.” The eastern province Cape Colony farmer seems to think that he of all men ought to be made exempt by some special law from the predatory iniquities of his neighbours. I fear the Kafir does occasionally steal sheep and cattle. Up in the Diamond Fields he steals diamonds,—the diamonds, that is, which he himself finds. The accusations which I have heard against Kafirs, as to stealing, begin and end here. It is certainly the case that a man used to the ways of the country will leave his money and his jewelry about among Kafirs, with a perfect sense of security, who will lock up everything with the greatest care when some loafing European is seen about. I remember well how I was warned to be careful about my bag at the little Inn in Natal, because a few British soldiers had quartered themselves for the night in front of the house. The Innkeeper was an Englishman, and probably knew what he was talking about.

The Kafirs ought not to steal cattle. So much may be admitted. And if everything was as it ought to be there would be no thieves in London. But perhaps of all dishonest raids the most natural is that made by a Savage on beasts which are running on the hills which used to belong to his fathers. Wealth to him is represented by cattle, and the wealth of his tribe all came from its land. To drive cattle has to his mind none of the meanness of stealing. How long is it since the same feeling prevailed among Englishmen and Scotchmen living on the borders? It is much the same in regard to diamonds. They are found in the ground, and why should not the treasures of the ground be as free to the Kafir as to his employer? I am using the Kafir’s argument;—not my own. I know, as does my reader, and as do the angry white men in South Africa, that the Kafir has contracted for wages to give up what he finds to his employer. I know that the employer has paid for a license to use the bit of land, and that the Kafir has not. I know that a proper understanding as to meum and tuum would prevent the Kafir from secreting the little stone between his toes. But there is much of this which the Kafir cannot yet have learned. Taking the honesty and the dishonesty of the Kafir together, we shall find that it is the former which is remarkable.

The great question of the day in England as to the countries which I have just visited is that of Confederation. The Permissive Bill which was passed last Session,—1877,—entitles me to say that it is the opinion of the Government at home that such Confederation should be consummated in South Africa within the next three or four years. Then there arise two questions,—whether it is practicable, and if practicable whether it is expedient. I myself with such weak voice as I possess have advocated Australian Confederation. I have greatly rejoiced at Canadian Confederation. My sympathies were in favour of West Indian Confederation. I left England hoping that I might advocate South African Confederation. But, alas, I have come to think it inexpedient,—and, if expedient, still impracticable. A Confederation of States implies some identity of interests. In any coming together of Colonies under one flag, one Colony must have an ascendancy. Population will give this, and wealth,—and the position of the chosen capital. It clearly was so in Canada. In South Africa that preponderance would certainly be with the Cape Colony. I cannot conceive any capital to be possible other than Capetown. Then arises the question whether the other provinces of South Africa can improve their condition by identifying themselves with the Cape Colony. They who know Natal will I think agree with me that Natal will never consent to send ten legislators to a Congress at Capetown where they would be wholly inefficient to prevent the carrying of measures agreeable to the Constitution of the Cape Colony but averse to its own theory of Government. I have described the franchise of the Cape Colony. I am well aware that Confederation would not compel one State to adopt the same franchise as another. But Natal will never willingly put herself into the same boat with a Colony in which the negro vote may in a few years become predominant over the white. In Natal there are 320,000 coloured people to 20,000 white. She might still exclude the coloured man from her own hustings as she does now; but she will hardly allow her own poor ten members of a common Congress to be annihilated by the votes of members who may not improbably be returned by coloured persons, and who may not impossibly be coloured persons themselves.

With the Transvaal the Government at home may do as it pleases. At the present moment it is altogether at the disposal of the Crown. If the Cape Colony would consent to take it the Transvaal can be annexed to-morrow without any ceremony of Confederation. The Cape Colony would in the first place probably desire to be secured from any repayment of the debts of the late Republic. This would not be Confederation, though in this way the Cape Colony, which will soon have swallowed up Griqualand West, would be enabled to walk round the Free State. But the Boers of the Transvaal would, if consulted, be as little inclined to submit themselves to the coloured political influence of the Cape as would the people of Natal. What should they do in a Parliament of which they do not understand the language? Therefore I think Confederation to be inexpedient.

But though the Cape Colony were to walk round the Free State so as to join the Transvaal,—though it were even to walk on and reach the Eastern Sea by including Natal,—still it would only have gone round the Free State and not have absorbed it. I understand that Confederation without the Free State would not be thought sufficiently complete to answer the purpose of the Colonial Office at home. And as I think that the Free State will not confederate, for reasons which I have given when writing about the Free State, I think that Confederation is impracticable.

It is again the great question of coloured races,—the question which must dominate all other questions in South Africa. Confederation of adjacent Colonies may be very good for white men who can rule themselves, and yet not suit the condition of territories in which coloured men have to be ruled under circumstances which may be essentially different in different States.

Looking back at our dominion over South Africa which has now lasted for nearly three quarters of a century I think that we have cause for national pride. We have on the whole been honest and humane, and the errors into which we have fallen have not been greater than the extreme difficulty of the situation has made, if not necessary, at any rate natural. When we examine the operations of different Governors as they have succeeded each other, and read the varying instructions with which those Governors have been primed from the Colonial Office, it is impossible not to see that the peculiar bias of one Secretary of State succeeding to that of another has produced vacillations. There has been a want of what I have once before ventured to call “official tradition.” The intention of Great Britain as to her Colonies as expressed by Parliament has not been made sufficiently plain for the guidance of the Colonial Office. This shewed itself perhaps more signally than elsewhere in Lord Glenelg’s condemnation of Sir Benjamin D’Urban at the close of the third Kafir war in 1835, when he enunciated a policy which was not compatible with the maintenance of British authority in South Africa,—which had to be speedily revoked,—but which could not be revoked till every Kafir had been taught that England, across the seas, was afraid of him. Again I think that by vacillating policy we foolishly forced upon the Dutch the necessity of creating Republics, first across the Vaal and then between the Vaal and the Orange, when, but a short time before, we had refused them permission to do the same thing in Natal. I myself think that there should have been no Republic;—that in the Transvaal, and in the Orange State, as in Natal, we should have recognized the necessity of providing Government for our migrating subjects.

But in all this there has been no lust of power, no dishonesty. There has been little, if anything, of mean parsimony. In that matter of the Diamond Fields as to which the accusations against the Colonial Office have been the heaviest, I feel assured not only of the justice but of the wisdom of what was done. Had we not assumed the duty of government at Kimberley, Kimberley would have been ungovernable.

But the question which is of all the one of moment is the condition of the coloured races. Just now there is still continued among a small fraction of them a disturbance which the opponents of the present Government in the Cape Colony delight to call a War. In spite of this, throughout the length and breadth of South Africa,—even in what is still called Kreli’s country,—the coloured man has been benefitted by our coming. He has a better hut, better food, better clothing, better education, more liberty, less to fear and more to get, than he had when we came among him, or that he would have enjoyed had we not come. If this be so, we ought to be contented with what our Government has done.

INDEX.

Acres under cultivation, i. 232

Bain’s Kloof, i. 130
Bathurst, i. 177
Bowker, Mr., i. 93
Brandy, i. 232
British troops, i. 194

Caledon, i. 156
Caledon Missionary Institution, i. 150
Cango Caves, i. 117
Cape Carta, i. 185
Cape Smoke, i. 116
Capetown, i. 68
Catberg, i. 226
Cathedral, The, i. 73
Ceres, i. 133
Cogman’s Pass, i. 145
Confederation, i. 49
Constantia, i. 82

Debe Nek, i. 193
Diamonds found, i. 44
Diaz, Bartholomew, i. 10
D’Urban, Sir Benjamin, i. 37
Dutch and English Languages, i. 32
Dutch, as divided from English, i. 56
Dutch, First condition of, i. 13

East London, i. 202
Education of Kafirs, i. 209
English occupation, i. 25
Esselin, M., i. 136

Feathers, manner of selling, i. 163
Federation, i. 49
Fort Brown, i. 186
Franchise, The, i. 89
French, Coming of, i. 20

George, i. 103
Germans, in British Kafraria, i. 184
Glenelg, Lord, i. 37
Grahamstown, i. 167

Healdtown, i. 187, 211
Hot Spring, i. 139
Hottentots, Manumission of, i. 33
Hottentots, their name, i. 16
Hunting a buck, i. 155
Hunting in Kafraria, i. 190

“Iron Rod” School, i. 227
Irrigation, i. 143, 232

Kafir Chiefs, i. 199
Kafir Famine, i. 43
Kafir Hymns, i. 213
Kafir Labour, i. 178
Kafir Schools, i. 207
Kafir War, 1st, i. 29
“ 2nd, i. 36
“ 3rd, i. 36
“ 4th, i. 39
“ 5th, i. 41
Kafirs at school, i. 221
Kafirs, Treatment of, i. 182
Kafraria, British, i. 181
Kalk Bay, i. 81
Karoo, The, i. 115
King Williamstown, i. 198
Knysna, The, i. 105

Legislative Assembly, i. 95
Legislative Council, i. 87
Library, The Capetown, i. 74
Lovedale, i. 217

Malmesbury, i. 122
Mitchell’s Pass, i. 131
Molteno, Mr., i. 95
Montague Pass, i. 113
Mossel Bay, i. 99
Mountains, i. 141
Mounted Police, i. 201
Museum, The, i. 73

Observatory, The, i. 78
Oodtahoorn, i. 115
Orange Free State, i. 52
Ostriches, i. 170

Paarl, The, i. 123
Pacaltsdorp, i. 111
Panmure, i. 206
Parliamentary Government, i. 45, 90
Peeltown, i. 223
Population of South Africa, i. 51, 234
Port Alfred, i. 176
Port Elizabeth, i. 160
Portuguese, The, i. 10
Provinces, i. 47

Queenstown, i. 226

Railways, i. 48, 79, 123
Riebeek, Jan van, i. 13
Robertson, i. 145

Sandilli, Chief of the Gaikas, i. 198
Siwani, i. 199
Slagter’s Nek, i. 30
Slavery, Abolition of, i. 33
Slaves, First landed, i. 14
Slaves, their manumission, i. 35
Solomon, Mr. Saul, i. 96
Somerset, East, i. 157
Stellenbosch, i. 157
Swellendam, i. 148

Tradouw, The, i. 149

Uitenhage, i. 163

Vasco da Gama, i. 11
Vines, i. 232

Wages, i. 235
Wagon-makers’ valley, i. 130
Wheat, i. 231
Wine, i. 127, 232
Wool, i. 228
Wool-washing, i. 101
Worcester, i. 135
Wynberg, i. 80

Zonnebloom, i. 211

NATAL.

Apollo, i. 279

Bar, The sand bar at Durban, i. 264
Bathing, i. 298
Berea, The, i. 275

Cathedral, The, i. 284
Cetywayo, i. 307
Chaka, the Zulu Chief, i. 243, 306
Coal, i. 352
Colenso, Bishop, i. 258, 284
Coolie Labour, i. 270

Delagoa Bay, i. 307
Dingaan, the Zulu Chief, i. 247, 307
Durban, i. 243
Dutch, The. How they entered Natal, i. 246

Estcourt, i. 348
Executive, The, i. 295
Expense of living, i. 287

Farewell, Mr., i. 243
Farmer, English, i. 299

German village, i. 300
Glenelg, Lord, i. 251
Greyton, i. 304

Kafir Labour, i. 273

Langalibalele, i. 258, 311, 327
Legislative Council, Members of, i. 260
Legislature, The, i. 295

Maritz, Gerrit, i. 245
Missionaries, The, i. 311

Newcastle, i. 344, 349

Park, The, i. 276
Pieter Maritzburg, i. 285
Pine, Sir B., Second Governor, i. 258
Pinetown, i. 283
Population, i. 277
Potgieter, Hendrick, i. 245
Pretorius, Andreas, i. 256

Railways, i. 265
Retief, Pieter, i. 247

Soldiers in Natal, i. 292
Speaking, After dinner, i. 291
Sugar, i. 267

Travelling, Difficulties of, i. 340
Trees, Planting of, i. 302

Volksraad, The, i. 255

War declared with the Dutch, i. 252
West, Mr., First Governor, i. 256
Wolseley, Sir Garnet; his coming, i. 260

York, Emigrants from, i. 258

Zulu dress, i. 318
Zulu honesty, i. 322
Zulu Labour, i. 273, 323
Zululand, i. 313
Zulus, i. 306
Zulus, Scarcity of, i. 347

THE TRANSVAAL.

Annexation, Effects of, ii. 61
Apprentices, ii. 33

Blignaut’s punt, ii. 127
Bloomhof, ii. 123
Boers, ii. 9
Boundaries, ii. 26
Burgers, Mr., ii. 39, 47, 65

Carnarvon, Lord, to Mr. Burgers, ii. 47
Christiana, ii. 123
Coal, ii. 20, 96
Copper, ii. 96
Cost of Living, ii. 77

Dishonesty, ii. 14
Domestic service, ii. 77
Dutchmen, old and new, ii. 115

Education, ii. 13, 81
Eersteling, ii. 93
Elton, Captain, ii. 93

Farmers’ houses, ii. 11
Farms, The size of, ii. 21
Freying, ii. 15
Fruits, ii. 111

Gardens, ii. 71
Gold, ii. 90

Heidelberg, ii. 23
Hollander, The, ii. 18
House on fire, ii. 52

Keate’s award, ii. 39, 123
Klerksdorp, ii. 32

Land, Division of, ii. 108
Loan, Proposed, for railway, ii. 101
Lydenburg district, ii. 94

Marabas Stad, ii. 93
Mazulekatze, ii. 31

Nichtmaal, The, ii. 75

Pilgrim’s Rest, ii. 94
Potchefstroom, ii. 32, 118
Pretoria, ii. 25, 67
Pretorius, Andreas, or the elder, ii. 32, 68
Pretorius, M. W., the younger, ii. 37, 69
Proclamation, The, ii. 55

Railways, ii. 98

Saltpan, The, ii. 86
Secocoeni, ii. 46
Shepstone, Sir Theophilus, ii. 47, 53
Slavery, ii. 35
Standees Drift, ii. 4, 19

Tatin, ii. 91
Taxes not paid, ii. 48
Transvaal, Condition of, ii. 52, 89
Transvaal Mails, ii. 8
Troops in the Transvaal, ii. 22

Wheat, ii. 107
Wonder Fontein, ii. 116

GRIQUALAND WEST.

Annexation to Cape Colony, ii. 151

Barkly, ii. 164
Brand, Mr., ii. 150
British rule—a blessing, ii. 148
Bultfontein, ii. 169

Churches at Kimberley, ii. 206
Colesberg Kopje, ii. 163, 169
Custom Duties, Increase of, ii. 200

De Beer, ii. 163
Diamond dealers, ii. 196
Diamond Fields a separate Colony, ii. 137, 151
Diamond-stealing, ii. 182, 197
Diamonds, how sent to Europe, ii. 195
Diamonds, imperfect, ii. 202
Diamonds, Notice of, in 1760, ii. 161
Diamonds—Off colours, ii. 196
Du Toit’s Pan, ii. 169

Franchise, The, ii. 167

Guns, Sale of, ii. 198

Hebron, ii. 164
Hospitals at Kimberley, ii. 205

Jacobs, Mr., ii. 162

Kimberley, ii. 173, 186
Kimberley Mine, ii. 169, 172, 174
Klipdrift, ii. 164
Kok, Adam, ii. 138

Lanyon, Major, ii. 137

Mine, Subdivision of, ii. 177
Modder, The, ii. 168
Morton, Mr., ii. 161

New Hush, The, ii. 173
No Man’s Land, ii. 140

Old De Beers, ii. 169
Orange Free State: its claims, ii. 139;
compensation given, ii. 140
O’Reilly, Mr., ii. 162

Population, ii. 166
Prison at Kimberley, ii. 206

Religion for Kafirs, ii. 188
River diggings, ii. 167

Southey, Mr., ii. 164
Star of South Africa, ii. 163

Vaal, The, ii. 168
Van Niekerk, Mr., ii. 162
Van Wyk, Mr., ii. 169
Vooruitzuit Farm, ii. 153, 172

Waterboer, Andreas, ii. 140, 141
Waterboer, Nicholas, ii. 138, 144
Work for Kafirs, ii. 187

THE ORANGE FREE STATE.

Baralongs, The, ii. 224
Basutos, ii. 218, 224
Bloemfontein, ii. 217, 236, 266, 261
Boers, The, ii. 235, 241
Boom Plats, Battle of, ii. 218
Boshof, Mr., ii. 216, 224
Boundaries of the Cape Colony, ii. 212
Brand, Mr., ii. 215, 226, 227, 262
Burgers, Mr., ii. 216

Cetywayo, ii. 216
Churches, ii. 267
Clerk, Sir George, ii. 223, 232
Custom Duties, ii. 246

Dams for water, ii. 236
Difficulties of the State, ii. 225

English language, ii. 235, 265
Executive, The, ii. 255

Fiji Islands, ii. 211
Franchise, The, ii. 253
Grey, Sir George, ii. 232

Hotel, The, ii. 259

Independence, Love of, ii. 243, 249
Irrigation, ii. 237

Maitland, Sir Peregrine, ii. 217
Ministers, Colonial, ii. 229
Moshef, ii. 215, 224

Napier, Sir George, ii. 216
Nichtmaal, The, ii. 267

Pretorius, Mr., ii. 215, 217, 224
Public offices, ii. 258

Railway, Proposed, ii. 263

Schools, ii. 263
Sovereignty, The, established, ii. 219;
abandoned, ii. 221

Telegraph wires, ii. 263
Treaty, Our, with the Free State, ii. 223

Vacillation of our policy, ii. 210
Volksraad, The, ii. 243, 251

Warden, Major, ii. 217

NATIVE TERRITORIES.

Aliwal North, Convention at, ii. 318

Baralong Law, ii. 282
Baralong, The tribe, ii. 275, 311
Basutos, The, ii. 277, 308, 310
Bechuanas, The, ii. 276, 311
Bomvanas, The, ii. 289, 308
Bowker, Mr., ii. 314
British Kafraria, ii. 287
Burial of a Chief, ii. 304
Bushmen, ii. 313, 326

Cannibalism, ii. 313
Casselin, M., ii. 313
Cogha, The River, ii. 291
Conquered Territory, ii. 317
Copper, ii. 321
Cultivation of land, ii. 284

Damaraland, ii. 320
Daniel, Mr., ii. 277

East London, ii. 286
Expense of the wars, ii. 297

Fingos, The, ii. 292, 308

Gaikas, ii. 287, 298
Galekaland, Occupation of, ii. 291
Galekas, ii. 287, 298, 308
Gatberg, The, ii. 307
Great Fish River, ii. 287, 292
Griquas—Bastards, ii. 308

Hintsa, ii. 292
Höhne, Mr., ii. 277
Hottentots, ii. 320
Huts at Thaba ’Ncho, ii. 279

Jenkins, Mrs., ii. 309
Justice, Administration of, ii. 305

Kafir habits, ii. 299
Kafir, What is a, ii. 287
Kafraria, ii. 287
Keiskamma, The, ii. 292
Kei, The River, ii. 286, 291
King Williamstown, ii. 286
Kok’s, Adam, Land, ii. 307
Korannas, ii. 320, 326
Kreli, ii. 286, 291, 294

Langalibalele, ii. 297

Maralong, The, language, ii. 278
Maroco, The Baralong Chief, ii. 277, 281, 316
Moni, a sub chief, ii. 289
Moriah, ii. 312
Moshesh, ii. 315

Namaqualand, ii. 320
Ngquika, ii. 288

Ookiep Mine, ii. 321, 324

Phillips and King, Messrs., ii. 323
Poisoning, ii. 283
Pondomisi, ii. 308
Pondos, ii. 288, 308
Population of Transkeian districts, ii. 308
Port Nolloth, ii. 323

Rain-makers, ii. 306
Robben Island, ii. 296

Sandilli, ii. 287
Sapena, The Assistant Chief, ii. 278
Scotchman at Thaba ’Ncho, ii. 285
South Africa—British annexation, ii. 296
Springbok Fontein, ii. 321
St. John River, ii. 307, 309

Tambookies, ii. 288
Taxes in Basutoland, ii. 318
Tembus, ii. 288, 308
Thaba Bosio, ii. 312
Thaba ’Ncho, ii. 275, 311
Theal, Mr., his description of Namaqualand, ii. 322
Transkeian Territory, ii. 307

Witch-doctors, ii. 306
Wodehouse, Sir P., ii. 290, 317

Xosas, ii. 288

Zwidi, ii. 289