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goaded into resignation over a money matter； a few months later the sacrifice was pleted。 He was recalled with ignominy； no other word seems to meet the case。 He retired to England to die； as thought many of his friends； of a broken heart。 Thus did Britain reward her faithful servant whose greatest crime was an error of judgment； if indeed he really erred； a matter that may well be argued。 Well； he took with him the love and respect of every loyal man in South Africa； and oils are forgotten； his name will shine on serene and untarnished in the sky of history。
To return to my personal reminiscences of this great Governor。 During the year 1877； in an unguarded moment I wrote an article descriptive of my visit to Secocoeni； which was published in an English magazine。 In the course of this article I gave an accurate and lively account of the menage of an ordinary Transvaal Boer； in the course of which I was so foolish as to say that the ladies were； for the most part； plain and stout。 I do not think that I signed the paper； but from internal evidence it was traced back to me； and； needless to say； translated into Dutch by the journals of the Cape Colony。 Then a great hubbub arose； and ultimately； two years later； the matter came to the ears of Sir Bartle Frere。
He sent for me and very rightly reproached me for my indiscretion。 In defence I replied that I had written no word that was not the strict and absolute truth。
“Haggard；” he said in his suave voice； “do you not know that there are occasions on which the truth is the last thing that should be uttered？ I beg you in future to keep it to yourself。”
I bethought me of Talleyrand’s saying that language was given to us to conceal our thoughts； but did not； I think； attempt to cap the argument by its quotation。 In fact； his censure was well deserved。 As St。 Paul teaches us； all things may be lawful； but all things are not expedient； and at this juncture it was certainly inexpedient to make little jokes about the uncountable fleas in Boer bedsteads。
Another noted man who visited us was Mr。 Anthony Trollope； who rushed through South Africa in a post…cart； and； as a result； published his impressions of that country。 My first introduction to him was amusing。 I had been sent away on some mission； I think it was to Rustenberg； and returned to Government House late one night。 On going into the room where I was then sleeping I began to search for matches； and was surprised to hear a gruff voice； proceeding from my bed； asking who the deuce I was。 I gave my name and asked who the deuce the speaker might be。
“Anthony Trollope；” replied the gruff voice； “Anthony Trollope。”
Mr。 Trollope was a man who concealed a kind heart under a somewhat rough manner； such as does not add to the fort of colonial travelling。
I think that my most pleasant recollections of the Transvaal are those connected with my journeys on circuit in pany with Judge Kotze。 Generally we travelled in an ox…waggon from town to town； and employed our leisure as we went in shooting； for at that time parts of the Transvaal veld were still black with game。 Then at night we would sit by our camp fire eating the dinner which I always cooked — for I was very expert at the culinary art — or； if it were wet and cold； in our waggon； where we read Shakespeare to each other till it was time to go to bed。
One such night I remember well； it was on the high veld somewhere in the neighbourhood of Lake Chrissie； where the duck…shooting was magnificent。 We read “Romeo and Juliet” and went to sleep in due course。 At dawn I poked my head between the curtains of the waggon； and in the dense mist that rolled around us saw a great herd of blesbuck feeding all about the waggon。 I woke the Judge； and reaching down our rifles； we opened fire。 He missed his blesbuck but I killed two at one shot； a thing I had never done before。 Truth pels me to add that the Judge claimed one of them； but on that point I was unable to accept his learned decision。
On one of these journeys I nearly came to a bad end。 On a certain morning before breakfast I wounded a bull wildebeest； breaking one of its hind hocks； and mounting a famous hunting horse that I had； named Moresco； started to ride it down。 But that wildebeest would not be ridden down； at least for a very long while。 Being thin； notwithstanding its injury it went like the wind； and finally led me into a vast pany of its fellows： I think there must have been three or four hundred of them。 When once he began to gallop game； Moresco was a horse that could not be held； the only thing to do was to let him have his head。 Into that herd he plunged； keeping his eye fixed upon the wounded beast； which in the end he cut out from among them。
On we went again and got into a great patch of ant…bear holes。 Some he dodged； some he jumped； but at length went up to his chest in one of them； throwing me on to his neck。 Recovering himself with marvellous activity； he literally jerked me back into the saddle with a toss of his head； and we proceeded in our wild career。 The end of it was that at last the bull was ridden to a standstill； but I could not pull up Moresco to get a shot at it。 He went at the beast as though he were going to eat it。 The bull charged us； and Moresco only avoided disaster by sitting down on his tail。 As the beast passed underneath his head I held out my rifle with one hand and pulled the trigger； the bullet went through its heart and it dropped like a stone。 Then I tied my handkerchief to its horn in order to scare away the aasvogel； and rode off to find the camp in order to get assistance。
All that day I rode； but I never found the camp on those vast； rolling plains。 Once towards sunset I thought that I saw the white caps of the waggons five or six miles away。 I rode to them to discover that they were but white stones。 A tremendous thunderstorm came on and wetted me to the skin。 In the gloom the horse put his foot upon a rolling stone that gave me a terrible fall that bruised and nearly knocked the senses out of me。
After lying a while I recovered。 Mounting again； I remembered that when I left the waggons the rising sun had struck me in the face。 So I rode on towards the west until utter darkness overtook me。 Then I dismounted； slipped the horse’s reins over my arm； and； lying down on the fire…swept veld； placed the saddle…cloth over me to try to protect myself against the cold； which at that season of the year was very bitter on this high land。 Wet through； exhausted； shaken； and starved as I was — for I had eaten nothing since the previous night — my position was what might be called precarious。 Game trekked past me； I could see their outlines by the light of such stars as there were。 Then hyenas came and howled about me。 I had three cartridges left； and fired two of them in the direction of the howls。 By an afterthought I discharged the third straight up into the air。 Then I lay down and sank into a kind of torpor； from which I was aroused by the sound of distant shouts。 I answered them； and the shouts grew nearer； till at length out of the darkness emerged my Zulu servant； Mazooku。
It seemed that this last shot saved me； for really I do not know what would have happened if I had lain all night in that wet and frost； or if I should ever have found strength to get on my horse again in the morning。 Mazooku and other natives had been searching for me for hours； till at length all abandoned the quest except for Mazooku； who said that he would go on。 So he wandered about over the veld till at length his keen eyes caught sight of the flash from my rifle — he was much too far away to hear its report。 He walked in the direction of the flash for several miles； shouting as he came； till at length I answered him。
So； thanks to Mazooku； I escaped from that trouble； and； what is more； took no harm； either from the fall or the chill and exhaustion。 He was a very brave and faithful fellow； and； as this story shows； much attached to me。 I think that some instinct； lost to us but still remaining to savages； led him towards me over that mighty sea of uninhabited veld。 Or of course it may have been pure chance； though this seems improbable。 At any rate he found me and through the darkness led me back to the camp； which was miles away。 The vituperation of Kaffirs is a mon habit among many white men； but in difficulty or danger may I never have a worse friend at hand than one like the poor Kaffir who is prepared to die for the master whom he loves。
Ultimately the Pretoria Horse was disbanded。 So many British troops had been poured into Africa that the Boers； with their usual slimness； thought the time inopportune to push matters to the point of actual rebellion； and therefore dispersed to their homes to await a more favourable hour。 This came later when Sir Gar Wolseley； who； whatever his gifts； was not blessed with foresight； had； as I have said； despatched all the cavalry back to England。 At this time no local assistance was required in the Zulu War。 So it happened that my soldiering came to a sudden end； for which I was sorry； for I had found the occupation congenial。 Also I was； as I have said； restless and reckless； and since Sir Theophilus had left Pretoria everything seemed changed。 Most of my colleagues had departed this way and that； and one of them； old Dr。 Lyle； was dead。 He had built a house near the town； purposing to settle there； but was seized with some frightful liver plaint。 I went to say good…bye to him； and never shall I forget this last farewell。 At the door of the death…chamber I turned round。 He had raised himself on his arms and was looking after me； his dark eyes filled with tenderness； shining large and round in a face that had wasted to the size of that of a child。 In a day or two he was gone； a martyr to his own goodness if all the tale were told。
Cochrane and I took it into our heads that we would shake off the dust of Government service and farm ostriches。 As a beginning we purchased some three thousand acres of land at Newcastle in Natal from Mr。 Osborn； together with the house that he had built when he was Resident Magistrate there。 We had never seen the land and did not think it worth while to undertake the journey necessary to that purpose； as it lay two hundred miles away。 In this matter our confidence was perfectly justified； since my dear friend Osborn had scrupulously undervalued the whole estate； which was a most excellent one of its sort。
I forget what we paid him for it； but it was a very modest sum。 Or rather we did not pay him at the time； as we wished to keep our working capital in hand； nor do I think that he demanded any security in the shape of mortgages or promissory notes。 He knew that we should not fail him in this matter； nor did we do so。
On my part it was a mad thing to do； seeing that I had a high office and was well thought of； yet； as it chanced； the wisest that I could have done。 Had I stopped on at Pretoria； within two years I should have been thrown out of my employment without pensation； as happened to all the other British officials when Mr。 Gladstone surrendered the Transvaal to the Boers after our defeat at Majuba； or at any rate to those of them who would not take service under the Dutch Republic； as I for one could never have consented to do。
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