hich his secretary had been intended, were destroyed. Von
Schlichmann was a man of extraordinary strength, and was remarkably
handsome in both face and figure. His curled yellow hair was thick,
long, and silky in texture. One of his favorite ways of showing his
strength was to get four men to grasp handfuls of his locks, each with
one hand, as firmly as they could. He would then sway his head round
with a jerk, and the four would fall, sprawling, in different
directions.

I think it was in 1875 that Von Schlichmann went north and entered the
military service of the Transvaal. It was, I know, when preparations
were being made to attack Sekukuni. I was one of those enrolled in the
expedition that escorted the arms and ammunition for that campaign from
Delagoa Bay to Pretoria in the latter part of 1874. So far as my memory
serves me, Von Schlichmann arrived early in the following year. But he
was killed in one of the attacks on Sekukuni's stronghold. When leading
his men a bullet pierced his lungs. He lay exposed on the flat rock on
which he fell, waving his sword and encouraging his men to advance to
the attack, until blood choked his utterance. One of my best friends, a
man named Macaulay, was shot on the same occasion. He received a bullet
in the brain from which he, unfortunately, did not die until after
several hours of great agony. Macaulay was noted at Pilgrim's Rest as
the first in the locality who used dynamite in mining operations.

But I have allowed myself to run ahead too fast, so must hark back to
Kimberley, as "New Rush" had now come to be called.

One of my most intimate friends was Norman Garstin, a man whom to know
was to love. Once he nearly frightened me to death. He had a habit of
sleeping with his eyes wide open, but of this I was quite unaware.
Returning home late one night I struck a match and saw him lying on his
back, his eyes fixed and glassy. I seized him by the shoulders and,
much to his disgust, dragged him into a sitting posture. Garstin was
an accomplished draughtsman. His caricatures, which were never
ill-natured, and his black and white "parables" brought him wide
popularity in the days when we foregathered.

The Cape Times was started by Garstin in conjunction with the late Mr.
F. Y. St. Leger. I forget exactly when this happened, but I think it
was in the late seventies. After he had severed his connection with the
Cape Times, Garstin went to Europe, where he studied serious art for