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ON TREK IN THE TRANSVAAL;
OVER BERG AND VELDT IN S. AFRICA
Which is chiefly Introductory.
No one goes anywhere, now-a-days, quite without an object, so we, being by no means exceptional individuals, had our motive, as a matter of course; that is to say, my husband had one of sufficient importance to induce him to undertake this journey, of which I am about to tell, and my motive was a natural consequence of his. I went because he went, and because there were no very potent reasons why I should stay behind.
It was a bright, clear-skied morning, early enough in the year for Winter to be still sufficiently vigorous to hold her own against
sweet Spring's feebler efforts for bare existence, when Time, the tiresome and inexorable, warned us that if we seriously contemplated reaching the Transvaal, we must at once take the preliminary and necessary measure of making a start for it.
The hall had been cleared to the very last package of the luggage which had gradually gathered within it, and where it might have added to our importance as travellers, but where it had sorely incommoded us as individuals. Now it was piled by willing hands upon the cart which was to convey it to our little branch-line station to London. I had seen two able-bodied women perform feats of strength in their struggles with refractory box-lids, and I had heard handy John summoned in nearly every case to the rescue before the final "snick" testified to their well-deserved triumph. It was not that, all things considered, we had a great deal of luggage, indeed it was below rather than above the allowance permitted to passengers by the Union Line, and we had been guided by those who knew something of the country