country to the British Crown. It so happened that I, Allan
Quatermain, had been on a shooting and trading expedition at the
back of the Lydenburg district where there was plenty of game to
be killed in those times. Hearing that great events were toward
I made up my mind, curiosity being one of my weaknesses, to come
round by Pretoria, which after all was not very far out of my
way, instead of striking straight back to Natal. As it chanced I
reached the town about eleven o'clock on this very morning of the
12th of April and, trekking to the Church Square, proceeded to
outspan there, as was usual in the Seventies. The place was full
of people, English and Dutch together, and I noted that the
former seemed very elated and were talking excitedly, while the
latter for the most part appeared to be sullen and depressed.

Presently I saw a man I knew, a tall, dark man, a very good
fellow and an excellent shot, named Robinson. By the way you
knew him also, for afterwards he was an officer in the Pretoria
Horse at the time of the Zulu war, the corps in which you held a
commission. I called to him and asked what was up.

"A good deal, Allan," he said as he shook my hand. "Indeed we
shall be lucky if all isn't up, or something like it, before the
day is over. Shepstone's Proclamation annexing the Transvaal is
going to be read presently."

I whistled and asked,

"How will our Boer friends take it? They don't look very
pleased."