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