t, is always stalking round; drought is a constant scourge
to agriculture; the locust plagues ruin those crops and fruit that
hailstones and scarcity of water have spared; and all the while men vie
with and tread upon one another in their rush and eagerness after the
gold which the land keeps hidden. Small wonder this district has proved
such a whirlpool of evil influences, where everyone is always striving
for himself, and where disillusions and bitter experiences have caused
each man to distrust his neighbour.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Colonel Frank Rhodes, Mr. G. Farrar, Mr. Hammond, and Mr. C.
Leonard.

[5] Mr. Rhodes died in the spring of 1902.

[6] Now Colonel Stracey Clitheroe.

[7] Now Colonel Grenfell, 3rd Dragoon Guards.

[8] Now Major Beresford.

CHAPTER IV

JOHANNESBURG AND PRETORIA IN 1896

"Little white mice of chance,
Coats of wool and corduroy pants,
Gold and wine, women and sin,
I'll give to you, if you let me in
To the glittering house of chance."
_American Dice Incantation_.

At Johannesburg we were the guests of Mr. Abe Bailey at Clewer Lodge.
Our host, however, was unfortunately absent, "detained" in the precincts
of the gaol at Pretoria, although allowed out on bail. In the same house
he had entertained in 1891 my brother Randolph[9] and his friend Captain
G. Williams, Royal Horse Guards, on their way to Mashonaland. One of my
first visitors was another fellow-traveller of theirs, Mr. H.C. Perkins,
the celebrated American mining expert. This gentleman was a great friend
of Randolph's, and he spoke most touchingly of his great attachment to
the latter, and of his grief at his death. For five years Mr. and Mrs.
Perkins had lived in Johannesburg, where they both enjoyed universal
respect, and their approaching departure, to settle once more in
America, was deplored by all. Considered to be the highest mining expert
of the day, Mr. Perkins had seen the rise of the Rand since its infancy,
and he had been shrewd enough to keep out of the late agitation and its
disturbances. Under his guidance we saw the sights of the towns: the
far-famed Rand Club; the Market Square, crammed, almost for the first
time since the so-called "revolution," with trek-waggons and their Boer
drivers; the much-talked-of "Gold-fields" offices, barred and
barricaded, which had been the headquarters of the Reform Committee; the
Standard Bank, where the smuggled arms had been k