John Rhodes.
Major Drury, Dr. Thorne (formerly of Queenstown), Mr. George Paton (who
afterwards represented Barkly West in Parliament), Mr. H. C. Becher
(subsequently well known in Hatton Garden), Mr. Rhodes and the latter's
brother, Herbert Rhodes, all belonged to this mess. Soon after my
arrival came Frank Rhodes, a bright-faced lad of eighteen, but who
looked considerably younger. He had passed the necessary examinations
and was awaiting a nomination to the army. I have never met any one
possessing such charm of manner as did Frank Rhodes at this period. He
was, I fancy, a year or so younger than his brother Cecil.

Herbert Rhodes, the eldest brother, was a tall, lean, hatchet-faced man
of, I should say, about twenty seven. Although sparely built his
strength was considerable, and he was a splendid boxer. Cecil Rhodes
was long and loose limbed, with blue eyes, ruddy complexion, and light,
curly hair. He was, I think, some three or four years my senior. The
Rhodes brothers occupied a large tent stretched over a skeleton
framework and measuring about sixteen by eighteen feet. I fancy the
site of our camp was the spot known afterwards as "St. Augustines,"
where a mine was subsequently opened.

Within a few yards of the mess tent were camped Norman Garstin and his
partner "Tommy" Townsend. Garstin has since become noted as a painter.
He is, or recently was, the patriarch of the artist colony at Newlyn.
Although Garstin and Townsend did not belong to the Drury Rhodes mess,
they were very intimate with the members thereof. After the completion
of my term as Major Drury's guest, during which I slept in my wagon, I
pitched a tent a few yards away, and messed for a time with Garstin and
his partner. Soon afterwards the original mess was broken up and
reorganized. Several members left and others took their places. Among
the latter were Garstin and I. Another member was Hugh McLeod, who is,
I fancy, still living at Kimberley. I struck my tent and went to live
with the Rhodes brothers in theirs.

Everything connected with any phase in the life of a man such as Cecil
John Rhodes is necessarily of interest, so I will endeavor to recall
what I can of our mutual relations. I received several kindly favors at
his hands, but we never became really intimate. He was even then
somewhat intolerant in discussion. While Rhodes was already a man in
mind and body, I was still a boy, and an ignorant, self-opinionated,
argumentative one at