Have lost some papers, so must trust to my memory. I think I posted my last letter to you on August Bank Holiday from Port Elizabeth, which place I left by train on August 3, and arrived in East London after 24 hours' journey.
I only had time to play one evening there. This I did at East London Club on August 4, and left on August 5 by R.M.S. "Norman" for Durban. One has to leave East London by tug on the Buffalo River to get to a steamer that anchors outside. It is generally very rough here, and one has to be swung up in baskets, six at a time, from the tug on to the steamer—not very pleasant for sea-sick travellers. The tug is up and down in so alarming a manner that no gangway can be lowered from the big steamer.
I rejoined my family at Durban on August 6, after being away nearly a month, during which I had made a circular tour of 2,500 miles. I played several leading clubs in Durban, and had one most interesting motor journey of about 50 miles to Stanger, over bad roads and across rivers, but the man at the wheel being Mr. S. Morris, of Morris & Soutters, everything was right. Durban was left at midnight on August 19, for 18 hours' rail to Krantzkop, the border of Zululand, where a magnificent sight can be seen for many miles. Next to Greytown, and then to Pietermaritzburg, where I may almost be said to have started in billiards.
On August 25 I was in Ladysmith, where, just outside the entrance of the Royal Hotel, a well-known doctor was killed, in November, 1899, by a shell that went through the hotel and hit the doctor as he stood by the entrance.
I left Ladysmith at 4 on a bitterly cold morning, with no seats in the train; so I sat in the dining saloon until the break of day, and saw— not for the first time during my travels out here —the sunrise. Arrived at Volksrust at 10 a.m. on August 26, played in evening, and left next morning, to arrive here at Johannesburg at 6 p.m. on August 27, to commence a match of 16,000 up v. Ferraro, but only to find he was indisposed. The game was consequently postponed. This has rather upset my well-laid plans. To tour Rhodesia requires a good deal of time, as trains do not run every day, and sometimes only twice a week in some parts.
However, it is proposed—and no doubt I shall carry it out—for me to go to Bulawayo next week and return here again. I will leave these particulars for my next letter.
I should have mentioned that Mr. Hibbs, of Greytown, brought a Mr. Harberd 100 miles from Durban to mark the game, which he did in great style. And what a "Silver King" he would make.
My opponent at Krantzkop was the magistrate, Mr. Barter, a gentleman whom I knew in my early days at Maritzburg. We had quite a long chat over those days.
I have remained in Johannesburg, waiting for the match with Ferraro, which should have commenced on August 27; but it did not, on account of Ferraro saying that he was not well enough to play. About that I cannot say, but Ferraro was, I understand, at the races on August 27, and smoking a pipe on the day we should have commenced. If I am not well I cannot smoke at all, but that is not to say that Ferraro cannot. Then the Transvaal Amateur Championship had to be played, and so my game did not commence until September 21.
However, Mr. Morris, of Morris & Soutter, recompensed me for the delay, and during the game Ferraro has twice failed to turn up and play, so that altogether it has not been a very enjoyable game.
We leave Johannesburg on October 4 for Bulawayo. I play there two nights, and then journey up to Victoria Falls, where I shall play twice at Livingstone, which is seven miles distant and across the Zambesi River from the Falls. I am looking forward to the Rhodesian trip as it is my first journey there. My next point is then Salisbury, and I play there.
There are lots of other places to play at, but my time is short, so I cannot visit them, and trains do not run every day. For instance, from Salisbury to Beira there is only one twice a week. We leave Beira on October 21 on board the "Karoa," and I expect to post my next letter to you from Mombasa, British East Africa.
I shall be very pleased to leave Johannesburg as I do not feel well here. The altitude, 6,000 feet, is too much for me, and my nose bleeds every day. An intimate revelation in this connexion is that I send as many as forty pocket handkerchiefs every week to the laundry. At this time of the year, too, we get high winds, and the dust and cyanide blowing about "clogs" one up. From this you will readily gather that I am now feeling quite prepared for "fresh fields and pastures new".