the rains, but, like many others in South Africa, it becomes perfectly
dry during the winter season, a peculiarity of the continent, which
caused a disappointed man to write that South Africa produced "birds
without song, flowers without smell, and rivers without water."

While camped on the banks of this vanished river, we used to hear lions
roaring as evening fell, and could distinguish their soft pads in the
dry sand next morning; but they were so shy that we never caught a
glimpse of one, nor could they be tempted into any ambush.

During these weeks the abortive Bloemfontein Conference had been holding
its useless sessions; the political world seemed so unsettled, and war
appeared so exceedingly likely, that we decided to return to Cape Town,
especially as Mr. Rhodes, who was expected out from England almost
immediately, had cabled asking us to stay at Groot Schuurr, where we
arrived early in July. A few days afterwards I had a ticket given me to
witness the opening of the Legislative Council, or Upper House, by Sir
Alfred Milner. It was an imposing ceremony, and carried out with great
solemnity. The centre of the fine hall was filled with ladies--in fact,
on first arriving, it gave one the idea of a ladies' parliament; but in
a few minutes the members filed in, shortly before the state entry of
His Excellency the Governor. Then, for the first time, I saw the man of
the hour; dignified without being stiff, and looking every inch his
part, he went through his rôle to perfection. The speech was, as usual,
utterly devoid of interest, and, contrary to the hope of excited
partisans, Transvaal affairs were studiously avoided. A few days later
we went to Government House to be introduced to Sir Alfred; he at once
impressed a stranger as a man of intense strength of mind and purpose,
underlying a somewhat delicate physique, which was at that time,
perhaps, enhanced by a decidedly worn and worried expression of