people. How came they there? Who are these Teutonic folk who have
burrowed so deeply into Africa? It is a twice-told tale, and yet it
must be told once again if this story is to have even the most
superficial of introductions. No one can know or appreciate the
Boer who does not know his past, for he is what his past has made
him.

It was about the time when Oliver Cromwell was at his zenith--in
1652, to be pedantically accurate--that the Dutch made their first
lodgment at the Cape of Good Hope. The Portuguese had been there
before them, but, repelled by the evil weather, and lured forwards
by rumours of gold, they had passed the true seat of empire and had
voyaged further to settle along the eastern coast. Some gold there
was, but not much, and the Portuguese settlements have never been
sources of wealth to the mother country, and never will be until
the day when Great Britain signs her huge cheque for Delagoa Bay.
The coast upon which they settled reeked with malaria. A hundred
miles of poisonous marsh separated it from the healthy inland
plateau. For centuries these pioneers of South African colonisation
strove to obtain some further footing, but save along the courses
of the rivers they made little progress. Fierce natives and an
enervating climate barred their way.

But it was different with the Dutch. That very rudeness of climate
which had so impressed the Portuguese adventurer was the source of
their success. Cold and poverty and storm are the nurses of the
qualities which make for empire. It is the men from the bleak and
barren lands who master the children of the light and the heat. And
so the Dutchmen at the Cape prospered and grew stronger in that
robust climate. They did not penetrate far inland, for they were