tion Natal has become the most patriotic province of the
Empire. Moreover, I was fortunate in meeting Colonel Hime, the Prime
Minister of the Colony, a tall, grey, keen-eyed man, who talked only of
the importance of fighting this quarrel out to the end, and of the
obstinate determination of the people he represented to stand by the
Queen's Government through all the changing moods of fortune. I received
then and have since been receiving a great number of telegrams and
messages from all kinds of people and from all countries of the earth.
One gentleman invited me to shoot with him in Central Asia. Another
favoured me with a poem which he had written in my honour, and desired
me to have it set to music and published. A third--an American--wanted
me to plan a raid into Transvaal territory along the Delagoa Bay line to
arm the prisoners and seize the President. Five Liberal Electors of the
borough of Oldham wrote to say that they would give me their votes on a
future occasion 'irrespective of politics.' Young ladies sent me woollen
comforters. Old ladies forwarded their photographs; and hundreds of
people wrote kind letters, many of which in the stir of events I have
not yet been able to answer.

[Illustration: Map of THE THEATRE OF THE OPERATIONS IN NATAL]

The correspondence varied vastly in tone as well as in character, and I
cannot help quoting a couple of telegrams as specimens. The first was
from a worthy gentleman who, besides being a substantial farmer, is also
a member of the Natal Parliament. He wrote: 'My heartiest
congratulations on your wonderful and glorious deeds, which will send
such a thrill of pride and enthusiasm through Great Britain and the
United States of America, that the Anglo-Saxon race will be
irresistible.'

The intention of the other, although his message was shorter, was
equally plain.

'_London, December 30th_.--Best friends here hope you won't go making
further ass of yourself.--M'NEILL.'

This shows, I think, how widely human judgment may differ even in regard
to ascertained facts.

I found time to visit the hospitals--long barracks which before the war
were full of healthy men, and are now crammed with sick and wounded.
Everything seemed beautifully arranged, and what money could buy and
care provide was at the service of those who had sustained hurt in the
public contention. But for all that I left with a feeling of relief.
Grim sights and grimmer suggestions were at every corner.