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that I will be as moderate as I can。 At any rate I shall cost less than if I had been at home。 I have now learnt Sir Henry’s character pretty well。 I know him to be a man of his word； therefore I am pretty well convinced that I shall be his private secretary sooner or later。 。 。 。 I continue to get on very well with him； indeed we are the best of friends； and I have many friendly jaws with him。 I should rather like to know who No。 1 is going to be； but I don’t think he knows himself； he is very reserved on these matters 。 。 。 。
Of work I have plenty here； but my chief trouble is my housekeeping。 I have all this large house entirely under me； and being new to it find it difficult work。 I have often seen with amusement the look of anxiety on a hostess’ face at a dinner…party； but； by Jove； I find it far from amusing now。 Dinner days are black Mondays to me。 Imagine my dismay the other day when the fish did not appear and when； on whispering a furious inquiry； I was told the cook had forgotten it！ Servants are very difficult to get here； and one has to pay 5 pounds a month at the lowest。
The next surviving letter is dated February 14； 1876。 It gives an account of a buck hunt which is perhaps worth transcribing。
To begin with； I am getting on all right and have quite got over all signs of liver since I got a horse。 This place； if only you take exercise； is as healthy as England； but exercise is a sina qua non。 I got out for a day’s buck…hunting the other day to a place about twelve miles off； a farm of fertile plain （about 12；000 acres）。 The owner of it； a very good fellow； is one of the few people who preserve their buck。
The way you shoot is this： three or four guns on good horses ride over the plain about fifty yards apart。 If an oribe gets up； you have to pull up and shoot off your horse’s back； which is not very easy till you get used to it。 Sometimes you run them as I did； but it wants a very swift horse。 I had dropped a little behind the others； when in galloping up to join them my horse put its foot into a hole and came to the ground； sending me and my loaded gun on to my head some five or six yards further on。 I had hardly e to my senses and caught my horse when I saw an oribe pass like a flash of light； taking great bounds。 I turned and went away after him； and I must say I never had a more exciting ride in my life。 Away we went like the wind； over hill and down dale； and very dangerous work it was； for being all through long grass the holes were hidden。 Every now and then I felt my horse give a violent shy or a bound； and then I knew we had nearly got into some bottomless pit； if we had； going at that rate the horse would most likely have broken his legs or I my neck。 And so on for about two miles； I gaining very slowly； but still gaining on the buck； when suddenly down he popped into a bush。 It is curious how rarely one does the right thing at the right time。 If I had done the right thing I should have got my buck — but I didn’t。 Instead of getting off and walking him up； I sent one barrel into the bush after him and gave him the other as he rose。 By this means I hit him very hard but did not kill him。 However； I made sure of him and struck the spurs into my horse to catch him。 To my surprise he only gave a jump； and I found myself embedded in a bog whilst my wounded buck slowly vanished over a rise。 I went back in a sweet temper； as you may imagine。
We also hunt with hounds； and get very good runs sometimes。 I very nearly lost my watch and chain in one the other day。 I was tearing along at full gallop through the long grass when I thought I felt an extra weight at the end of my whip which was resting on the pommel of my saddle。 I looked down and saw my watch and chain hanging to it。 It was what one may call a lucky escape。 。 。 。 There is little news here of any sort。 It is evidently thought in England that Froude made a fiasco of his mission； but I believe it was more the fault of the Home Government than his own。 The only other thing is that some people fear resistance on the part of the Kaffirs when the time es for the collection of the new hut tax； but I don’t believe in it 。 。 。 。
In a letter dated Easter Sunday； 1876； there are some allusions to Bishop Colenso and to the Zulu customs of the day which may be of interest。
There is but little news to tell； none indeed with the exception of the tragedy I mentioned in my letter to my father。 Colenso preached a funeral sermon on him this morning； by far the finest I ever heard him preach。 He was one of the Bishop’s best friends； one who had stood by him when all deserted him。 The Bishop quite broke down。 I was sitting under him； all the last part of the sermon he was literally sobbing。 It was touching to see stern…faced Colenso； whom nothing can move； so broken。 He is a very strange man； but one you cannot but admire； with his intellect written on his face。 I dare say that my father has met him in Norfolk； where he was a rector； he recognized my name the first time I saw him。
We start for a trip up…country in three days’ time； we shall be away until about the 22nd。 We are going to explore Weenen or the Land of Weeping； so…called from the weeping of the women and children left alive after the great massacre of the Dutch。
I saw a curious sight the other day； a witch dance。 I cannot attempt to describe it； it is a weird sort of thing。
The Chief Interpreter of the Colony told me that he was in Zululand some years ago and saw one of these witch…findings。 “There；” he said； “were collected some five thousand armed warriors in a circle； in the midst of which the witches ＇I should have said the witch…doctors＇ danced。 Everyone was livid with fear； and with reason； for now and again one of these creatures would e crooning up to one of them and touch him； whereupon he was promptly put out of the world by a regiment of the king’s guard。” My friend interfered and nearly had his own neck broken for his trouble。
The Chief Interpreter alluded to must have been my friend Fynney； now long dead； who was afterwards my colleague on the staff of Sir Theophilus Shepstone。 From him I gathered much information as to Zulu customs and history ade use of in “Nada the Lily” and other books。 There the reader may find a true account of the doings of these awful witch…doctors。 Often I have wondered whether they are merely frauds or whether they do possess； at any rate in certain instances； some share of occult power。 Certainly I have known them do the strangest things； especially in the way of discovering lost cattle or other property。 On the occasion of which I speak in the letter I remember that the doctoress soon discovered an article I thought was gone for ever。
I acpanied Sir Henry on a tour he made up…country and there saw a great war…dance which was organised in his honour。 I mention this because the first thing I ever wrote for publication was a description of this dance。 I think that it appeared in the Gentleman’s Magazine。
Among the new…found letters is one that tells of this war…dance。 It is headed Camp； Pagate’s Location； May 13； 1876。
。 。 。 We have since my last letter home been trekking steadily on through the country in much the same way； except that we have left the plains and entered the mountainous bush…land； which； though the roads are terrible； is much pleasanter to travel through as it is more varied。 Also you can make dives into the bush in search of a little shooting； though it is very necessary to take your bearings first。 I neglected to do this the other day； and when I had been off the road five minutes I found I was utterly unable to find it again。
When once you have lost your general direction you are done for。 I wandered on and on till at length I saw three pretty； rustic…looking houses on a hill a couple of miles off； for which I was not sorry； for the evening was very gloomy and a cold east wind was driving down clouds and mists from the hill。 Thither I and my tired horse and dogs clambered as best we could； now over masses of boulders； now through deep water…courses； till at last we came to the neighbourhood of the first house； just as night was setting in。
As I approached I was struck by the stillness of the place； and drawing nearer yet I saw that brambles and thorns were mixed with the peaches and pomegranates of the garden； and that the fruit had not been plucked； but eaten away by birds； then I observed that the front door had fallen from its hinges。 I rode in and found the place a picture of melancholy desertion。 I went on to the next house and found it in the same condition； and the next to that also。 I was now pretty well done； but as the prospect of sleeping in the bush or a deserted house was not pleasant I determined to make one more shot for the road。 As soon as I had ridden over half a mile it came on to rain “cats and dogs；” and I got ducked through and through。 I turned to make for the houses as best I could through the dark； feeling unmonly cold； when suddenly I stumbled upon a Kaffir ing through the bush。 An angel could not have been more wele。
However there was a drawback。 I knew no Kaffir； he knew no English。 Luckily I did know the Kaffir name of Mr。 Shepstone — “Sompseu” — which is known by every black in South Africa； a