the days of my life-第13部分

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that　I　will　be　as　moderate　as　I　can。　At　any　rate　I　shall　cost　less　than　if　I　had　been　at　home。　I　have　now　learnt　Sir　Henry’s　character　pretty　well。　I　know　him　to　be　a　man　of　his　word；　therefore　I　am　pretty　well　convinced　that　I　shall　be　his　private　secretary　sooner　or　later。　。　。　。　I　continue　to　get　on　very　well　with　him；　indeed　we　are　the　best　of　friends；　and　I　have　many　friendly　jaws　with　him。　I　should　rather　like　to　know　who　No。　1　is　going　to　be；　but　I　don’t　think　he　knows　himself；　he　is　very　reserved　on　these　matters　。　。　。　。
Of　work　I　have　plenty　here；　but　my　chief　trouble　is　my　housekeeping。　I　have　all　this　large　house　entirely　under　me；　and　being　new　to　it　find　it　difficult　work。　I　have　often　seen　with　amusement　the　look　of　anxiety　on　a　hostess’　face　at　a　dinner…party；　but；　by　Jove；　I　find　it　far　from　amusing　now。　Dinner　days　are　black　Mondays　to　me。　Imagine　my　dismay　the　other　day　when　the　fish　did　not　appear　and　when；　on　whispering　a　furious　inquiry；　I　was　told　the　cook　had　forgotten　it！　Servants　are　very　difficult　to　get　here；　and　one　has　to　pay　5　pounds　a　month　at　the　lowest。
The　next　surviving　letter　is　dated　February　14；　1876。　It　gives　an　account　of　a　buck　hunt　which　is　perhaps　worth　transcribing。
To　begin　with；　I　am　getting　on　all　right　and　have　quite　got　over　all　signs　of　liver　since　I　got　a　horse。　This　place；　if　only　you　take　exercise；　is　as　healthy　as　England；　but　exercise　is　a　sina　qua　non。　I　got　out　for　a　day’s　buck…hunting　the　other　day　to　a　place　about　twelve　miles　off；　a　farm　of　fertile　plain　（about　12；000　acres）。　The　owner　of　it；　a　very　good　fellow；　is　one　of　the　few　people　who　preserve　their　buck。
The　way　you　shoot　is　this：　three　or　four　guns　on　good　horses　ride　over　the　plain　about　fifty　yards　apart。　If　an　oribe　gets　up；　you　have　to　pull　up　and　shoot　off　your　horse’s　back；　which　is　not　very　easy　till　you　get　used　to　it。　Sometimes　you　run　them　as　I　did；　but　it　wants　a　very　swift　horse。　I　had　dropped　a　little　behind　the　others；　when　in　galloping　up　to　join　them　my　horse　put　its　foot　into　a　hole　and　came　to　the　ground；　sending　me　and　my　loaded　gun　on　to　my　head　some　five　or　six　yards　further　on。　I　had　hardly　e　to　my　senses　and　caught　my　horse　when　I　saw　an　oribe　pass　like　a　flash　of　light；　taking　great　bounds。　I　turned　and　went　away　after　him；　and　I　must　say　I　never　had　a　more　exciting　ride　in　my　life。　Away　we　went　like　the　wind；　over　hill　and　down　dale；　and　very　dangerous　work　it　was；　for　being　all　through　long　grass　the　holes　were　hidden。　Every　now　and　then　I　felt　my　horse　give　a　violent　shy　or　a　bound；　and　then　I　knew　we　had　nearly　got　into　some　bottomless　pit；　if　we　had；　going　at　that　rate　the　horse　would　most　likely　have　broken　his　legs　or　I　my　neck。　And　so　on　for　about　two　miles；　I　gaining　very　slowly；　but　still　gaining　on　the　buck；　when　suddenly　down　he　popped　into　a　bush。　It　is　curious　how　rarely　one　does　the　right　thing　at　the　right　time。　If　I　had　done　the　right　thing　I　should　have　got　my　buck　—　but　I　didn’t。　Instead　of　getting　off　and　walking　him　up；　I　sent　one　barrel　into　the　bush　after　him　and　gave　him　the　other　as　he　rose。　By　this　means　I　hit　him　very　hard　but　did　not　kill　him。　However；　I　made　sure　of　him　and　struck　the　spurs　into　my　horse　to　catch　him。　To　my　surprise　he　only　gave　a　jump；　and　I　found　myself　embedded　in　a　bog　whilst　my　wounded　buck　slowly　vanished　over　a　rise。　I　went　back　in　a　sweet　temper；　as　you　may　imagine。
We　also　hunt　with　hounds；　and　get　very　good　runs　sometimes。　I　very　nearly　lost　my　watch　and　chain　in　one　the　other　day。　I　was　tearing　along　at　full　gallop　through　the　long　grass　when　I　thought　I　felt　an　extra　weight　at　the　end　of　my　whip　which　was　resting　on　the　pommel　of　my　saddle。　I　looked　down　and　saw　my　watch　and　chain　hanging　to　it。　It　was　what　one　may　call　a　lucky　escape。　。　。　。　There　is　little　news　here　of　any　sort。　It　is　evidently　thought　in　England　that　Froude　made　a　fiasco　of　his　mission；　but　I　believe　it　was　more　the　fault　of　the　Home　Government　than　his　own。　The　only　other　thing　is　that　some　people　fear　resistance　on　the　part　of　the　Kaffirs　when　the　time　es　for　the　collection　of　the　new　hut　tax；　but　I　don’t　believe　in　it　。　。　。　。
In　a　letter　dated　Easter　Sunday；　1876；　there　are　some　allusions　to　Bishop　Colenso　and　to　the　Zulu　customs　of　the　day　which　may　be　of　interest。
There　is　but　little　news　to　tell；　none　indeed　with　the　exception　of　the　tragedy　I　mentioned　in　my　letter　to　my　father。　Colenso　preached　a　funeral　sermon　on　him　this　morning；　by　far　the　finest　I　ever　heard　him　preach。　He　was　one　of　the　Bishop’s　best　friends；　one　who　had　stood　by　him　when　all　deserted　him。　The　Bishop　quite　broke　down。　I　was　sitting　under　him；　all　the　last　part　of　the　sermon　he　was　literally　sobbing。　It　was　touching　to　see　stern…faced　Colenso；　whom　nothing　can　move；　so　broken。　He　is　a　very　strange　man；　but　one　you　cannot　but　admire；　with　his　intellect　written　on　his　face。　I　dare　say　that　my　father　has　met　him　in　Norfolk；　where　he　was　a　rector；　he　recognized　my　name　the　first　time　I　saw　him。
We　start　for　a　trip　up…country　in　three　days’　time；　we　shall　be　away　until　about　the　22nd。　We　are　going　to　explore　Weenen　or　the　Land　of　Weeping；　so…called　from　the　weeping　of　the　women　and　children　left　alive　after　the　great　massacre　of　the　Dutch。
I　saw　a　curious　sight　the　other　day；　a　witch　dance。　I　cannot　attempt　to　describe　it；　it　is　a　weird　sort　of　thing。
The　Chief　Interpreter　of　the　Colony　told　me　that　he　was　in　Zululand　some　years　ago　and　saw　one　of　these　witch…findings。　“There；”　he　said；　“were　collected　some　five　thousand　armed　warriors　in　a　circle；　in　the　midst　of　which　the　witches　＇I　should　have　said　the　witch…doctors＇　danced。　Everyone　was　livid　with　fear；　and　with　reason；　for　now　and　again　one　of　these　creatures　would　e　crooning　up　to　one　of　them　and　touch　him；　whereupon　he　was　promptly　put　out　of　the　world　by　a　regiment　of　the　king’s　guard。”　My　friend　interfered　and　nearly　had　his　own　neck　broken　for　his　trouble。
The　Chief　Interpreter　alluded　to　must　have　been　my　friend　Fynney；　now　long　dead；　who　was　afterwards　my　colleague　on　the　staff　of　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone。　From　him　I　gathered　much　information　as　to　Zulu　customs　and　history　ade　use　of　in　“Nada　the　Lily”　and　other　books。　There　the　reader　may　find　a　true　account　of　the　doings　of　these　awful　witch…doctors。　Often　I　have　wondered　whether　they　are　merely　frauds　or　whether　they　do　possess；　at　any　rate　in　certain　instances；　some　share　of　occult　power。　Certainly　I　have　known　them　do　the　strangest　things；　especially　in　the　way　of　discovering　lost　cattle　or　other　property。　On　the　occasion　of　which　I　speak　in　the　letter　I　remember　that　the　doctoress　soon　discovered　an　article　I　thought　was　gone　for　ever。
I　acpanied　Sir　Henry　on　a　tour　he　made　up…country　and　there　saw　a　great　war…dance　which　was　organised　in　his　honour。　I　mention　this　because　the　first　thing　I　ever　wrote　for　publication　was　a　description　of　this　dance。　I　think　that　it　appeared　in　the　Gentleman’s　Magazine。
Among　the　new…found　letters　is　one　that　tells　of　this　war…dance。　It　is　headed　Camp；　Pagate’s　Location；　May　13；　1876。
。　。　。　We　have　since　my　last　letter　home　been　trekking　steadily　on　through　the　country　in　much　the　same　way；　except　that　we　have　left　the　plains　and　entered　the　mountainous　bush…land；　which；　though　the　roads　are　terrible；　is　much　pleasanter　to　travel　through　as　it　is　more　varied。　Also　you　can　make　dives　into　the　bush　in　search　of　a　little　shooting；　though　it　is　very　necessary　to　take　your　bearings　first。　I　neglected　to　do　this　the　other　day；　and　when　I　had　been　off　the　road　five　minutes　I　found　I　was　utterly　unable　to　find　it　again。
When　once　you　have　lost　your　general　direction　you　are　done　for。　I　wandered　on　and　on　till　at　length　I　saw　three　pretty；　rustic…looking　houses　on　a　hill　a　couple　of　miles　off；　for　which　I　was　not　sorry；　for　the　evening　was　very　gloomy　and　a　cold　east　wind　was　driving　down　clouds　and　mists　from　the　hill。　Thither　I　and　my　tired　horse　and　dogs　clambered　as　best　we　could；　now　over　masses　of　boulders；　now　through　deep　water…courses；　till　at　last　we　came　to　the　neighbourhood　of　the　first　house；　just　as　night　was　setting　in。
As　I　approached　I　was　struck　by　the　stillness　of　the　place；　and　drawing　nearer　yet　I　saw　that　brambles　and　thorns　were　mixed　with　the　peaches　and　pomegranates　of　the　garden；　and　that　the　fruit　had　not　been　plucked；　but　eaten　away　by　birds；　then　I　observed　that　the　front　door　had　fallen　from　its　hinges。　I　rode　in　and　found　the　place　a　picture　of　melancholy　desertion。　I　went　on　to　the　next　house　and　found　it　in　the　same　condition；　and　the　next　to　that　also。　I　was　now　pretty　well　done；　but　as　the　prospect　of　sleeping　in　the　bush　or　a　deserted　house　was　not　pleasant　I　determined　to　make　one　more　shot　for　the　road。　As　soon　as　I　had　ridden　over　half　a　mile　it　came　on　to　rain　“cats　and　dogs；”　and　I　got　ducked　through　and　through。　I　turned　to　make　for　the　houses　as　best　I　could　through　the　dark；　feeling　unmonly　cold；　when　suddenly　I　stumbled　upon　a　Kaffir　ing　through　the　bush。　An　angel　could　not　have　been　more　wele。
However　there　was　a　drawback。　I　knew　no　Kaffir；　he　knew　no　English。　Luckily　I　did　know　the　Kaffir　name　of　Mr。　Shepstone　—　“Sompseu”　—　which　is　known　by　every　black　in　South　Africa；　a