nt on its trembling crest, and then
whirl him round and round as it swept restlessly shoreward. This
whirling was so rapid that I have occasionally almost lost
consciousness when in the grip of an unusually, powerful breaker. We
never considered that we were doing anything venturesome; the sport
described was followed by all and sundry, quite as a matter of course.
Nevertheless, I think the boys used to venture out farther than the
men. Sharks we never thought of. It was not considered possible that we
could be carried out to sea, for the greatest difficulty lay in keeping
oneself from being flung back on the shore by the rapidly advancing
waves. I wonder whether bathers nowadays venture out as far as we did.

The friends with whom I usually stayed were the Barbers, who lived at
Grey Park, a few miles from Sunny Slope. I mean Mr. Hilton Barber, now
of Halesowen, near Cradock, and his brothers Guy and Graham. The
latter, one of the truest friends I ever had, is, alas! long since
dead. He fell a victim to pneumonia at Johannesburg in the early days.
Related to or connected with the Barbers were the Atherstones,
Cummings, McIntoshes, and Dicks, whose tents usually, stood in the
vicinity of the Barber encampment.

I recall one incident which caused a great deal of laughter. Mr. Guy
Barber was then engaged to his present wife, who was Miss McIntosh, a
girl of remarkable beauty. A certain Mr. Larry O'Toole, who had come
out in the Asia under my father's protection, was staying at a camp in
the vicinity. One day a wild-duck shoot was in progress. Larry, who
knew little or nothing about shooting, was of the party. The sportsmen
took their stations around the margins of a large, sinuous vlei. The
ducks, after being disturbed, flew up and down. Miss McIntosh, with her
fiance, was on horseback opposite Larry, on the other side of the
water. Some ducks flew past and Larry fired. The birds were untouched,
but the horse ridden by, Miss McIntosh was severely peppered and began
to plunge violently. In the course of a severe reproof for his
carelessness, Larry was asked by Guy Barber:

"Now, supposing you had blinded or otherwise badly injured Miss
McIntosh, what would you have done?"

"Oh! begor," replied Larry, "I suppose I'd have had to marry, her."

Poor Larry O'Toole! We met, years afterwards, in a remote mining-camp.
He ventured into the Low Country beyond the Murchison Range at the
wrong season, and contracted fever. In the