unch we were to have eaten
together at Bulawayo was necessarily changed to the first dinner.

At 2:30 we were on the alert to catch a first view of Bulawayo, and at
2:55 p.m. a few stray gleams of white, seen through the thorn bush, were
pointed out to us as the capital of Matabeleland. We had passed the
famous Matoppo Hills to the right of us, but, excepting for their
connection with the late war, there was nothing interesting in them.
They consist of a series of these rocky kopjes of no great height, lying
close together, mere wrecks of the crest of a great land wave, terrible
enough when behind each rocky boulder and crevice a rifleman lies
hidden, but peaceful now that the war is over, and the white man has
made himself an irremovable home in the land.

SIR A. MILNER AT BULAWAYO.

As was said, we entered Bulawayo a few minutes later, and saw the crude
beginnings of a city that must, if all goes well, grow to a great
distinction. As a new-comer with but an hour or two's experience of it,
I dare not venture upon saying anything more. We heard that the
Governor, Sir A. Milner, had already officiated at the ceremony of
opening the line, that his speech was not remarkable for any memorable
words, that he had given the Victoria Cross to some trooper for gallant
conduct in the field. I heard that Sir Alfred had also read a despatch
from Mr Chamberlain, which was to the effect that at the opening of the
railway to Bulawayo he was anxious to send a message to the settlers
assembled to celebrate the event. He sympathised with their troubles,
but he was gratified to think that there was a happier future in store
for them. The railway would be a stimulus to every form of enterprise,
and would effectually bind the north and south together.

In the evening the dinner took place at the Palace Hotel, which is a
building that does not deserve such a title, as might be inferred from
the haste with which it was constructed. Ten days ago, few believed
that it would be in a fit state to receive any guests, but we found it
sufficiently advanced to house the 400 who have arrived. Some portions
of it, especially the reception room, would be no discredit to the best
hotel at the Cape. The accounts of what occurred at the banquet, as
described by the local reporters, I do not reproduce here, and refer my
reader to the next chapter for what I have gathered of value from
personal observation.

CHAPTER TWO.

BULAWAYO, NOVEMB