Liverpool of South Africa." I doubt as to whether its
commercial self-righteousness had developed to the extent of adopting
the sobriquet "the Honest Port." My most salient memories are of
hospitality, wool, hides, pumpkins, and sand. So far as I can recall,
neither Main Street nor the Market Square was paved. That useful but
ungainly ship of the southern deserts, the ox-wagon, was much in
evidence. When the wind blew, as it did nearly all the time we were
there, the dust arose in one continuous cloud, and grit reigned
supreme.

But the hospitality of the Port Elizabethans was a thing to be
remembered with great pleasure. No sooner had we landed than
invitations poured in on us. This was not merely complimentary it was
the outcome of genuine kindness and a desire to be helpful. There was
no ostentation, but just the natural expression of a simple desire to
welcome and assist the stranger newly arrived within the gates.
Hospitality was one of the cardinal South African virtues in those
days. It has been truly said that even a quarter of a century ago a man
might ride from Cape Town to the Limpopo without a shilling in his
pocket, and be well entertained all the way. Things have, however, much
changed in this respect. I suppose this was inevitable; true
hospitality is a plant which seldom survives the hot stress of the
struggle for riches.

Grahamstown was our destination, so an ox-wagon of the largest size and
with a team to match was hired to convey us and our belongings to the
city, which has since become so celebrated as the abode of saints. Our
first outspan was in the valley of the Zwartkops River, close to a big
vlei, which was surrounded by dense, scrubby jungle. I had a small
single-barreled rifle, so I loaded this and went off in search of big
game. In anticipation of our translation to Africa I had done a good
deal of rifle practice at Springfield, and had thus become a fair shot.

But now, to my great disappointment, I could find nothing on which to
exercise my skill. After a long, hot, circular walk, in the course of
which I had not seen a living thing, I found myself once more on the
edge of the vlei, within a hundred yards of the wagon. I was so thirsty
that I found it impossible to pass the water without drinking. The
margin of the vlei was very muddy, so, placing my rifle against a tree,
I stepped from one tussock to another, so as to get within reach of
deeper and, therefore, clearer water. I bent dow