Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1881-10-15
A TRAVELLERS TALE.
IN MEMORY OF A FRIEND.


Three days ago I returned to my cottage,
after nearly twelve months absence in Eastern
Europe. 1t is quaint and sunny-and damp
as always; the memorials Of distant travel
whereof you have heard so much welcome me
home; the roses IN my conservatory are as
thick ana "a fragrant as ever. Time has flown
lightly and pleasantly with home and owner,
but in the big heap Of letters on my table there
is notice of change more than enough. / have
reached the age when death becomes familiar
a yisitant who sweeps round closer and closer,
in beat ever MISUNDERSTANDING here and
there more rapidly and more nearly until ones
self is struck. Four intimate friends have joined
the majority since / left home; one, an old
school-feIlow, who had never, believe, visited
more distant parts than France or italy; the
second, French journalist, whose facile sue
cess proved his ruin; the third, an officer of
Rajah Brooke. who died in the Red Sea on his
way home; the fourth. a South African farmer
wine-grOwer. digger, veterinary snrgeon-the
best and the happiest of men, He, his wife,
forty-eight hours. His Executor writes to me
OF some business settled years ago; but my
friend was never careful of his papers
We called him Swelly Dave upon :'the Fields"
where first made his acquaintance. His real
name matters to no one; let US suppose it
Davies. Every one liked and admired when
they knew him; but in that rough place he had
an uphill road to popularity, for Dave was con-
sumed by an instinct and genius for dress. At
all times he could display a white shirt and a
stiff collar. This neatness was not q hereditary
attribute, l imagine He confessed that his
father had been country vet and that he him
self had been educated for that modest profess
sion. He had learned something Of the bust
ness evidently. when his parents death gave
him very little fortune. This he spent quite
present and the future Of humanity when his
trousers fitted and their pockets held a shilling
for flower 1t was not the dear old fellows
nature to run into debt. He reckOned up his
waning cash with jealous integrity, and when
1t had ebbed to certain point he paid his tailor,
packed his wardrobe, and sailed for the Cape.
There he practiced as a vet. until the discovery
of diamonds attracted him to Dutoitspan. He
was lucky from the outset, and as he neither
drank nor gambled beyond moderation, Dave
was soon enabled to indulge his one extraya-
gance. found him established at Benning and
Martins 'HOter on my arrival, q tall young
fellow, with sleepy brown eyes, fair hair and
mustache. We did not grow intimate for long
while, since his character was all that is least
gushing. have met only one European in the
world who could sit still and keep silence as he
could. On q shady bench outside the hotel door
he would gaze dreamily at nothing from din
ner-time till dusk. His pleasant smile was
ready for an acquaintance, and his few words
shrewd and purpOseful enough. but he felt no
need of companion. At first the rude
IL,
but when they found that this spick and span
lOunger was ready with his fists in a challenge
though he nearly always got the worst Of an
encounter-they respected him.
The incident which brought me into closer re-
latiOnship with Dave took place after had left
Benning and Martins to live on Bultfontein
Hill. Let it be confessed at once that have
made coherent story out of facts which could
be, and were, summarized in two or three para
graphs of the Diamond Fields News" but the
fanf fna%l,, Y
transcrlbe those paragraphs you would CRY out
for detail and explanation; you would want to
know more of the human beings concerned.
Until this sad news reached me could not have
satisfied you without an objectionable breach
OF friendship. But all are gone now who were
Interested in those strange events, and when
memory stirs my imagination there is no need
to resist.
1t was in the latter end of 1872. One morning
descended Bultfontein Hill to inspect the
market. Half dozen wagons just arrived
stood round the square, heavy beers and ragged
followers of the camp were transferring the
contents to market-tables, ranged in a hollow
parallclOgram, The pOrters of the municipality,
working inside this barrier, sorted and arranged
the various ''lOts"-fruit, tobacco, vegetables,
and the TransyaaL The market MASTER note
book in hand, strobe TO and fro upon the tables,
entering cataloguing, swearing, and stamping.
At distance stood crowd of diggers, waiting
10 buy their stock OF necessaries before descend
ing to the claims. Few of them had washed;
water was threepence bucket-salt at that,
and fetch it yourself" A grimy throng they
were, therefore, in patched clothes from which
the color had departed, whitewith dust, SCARED
with old wounds and bOils, red-eyed and blink
ing, and disfgured by huge blue spectacles of
the toughest make. They leaned ON spades,
and picks, and Sorting boards" smoking
rank tobacco and shouting rough jests.
Crossing the open space met Swelly Dave,
absorbed in contemplation Of a sack of Or
anges. Have you been ON the SCOOP" cried
taking his arm. "YOur necktie is crooked and
your collar broken"
"DOn't, old fellow" he answered. 'Iouey
has had bad night, and they say there is no
hope"
His eyes were trimming, his voice hoarse
had heard of this poor girl. who was the
beauty OF Dutoitspan in days before my arrival.
For two months past she had beenwasting with
fever, caused rather by foul smells, heat, worry
Of flies, and bad food, than by disease. It was
no secret that Dave loved her, but the girl was
young and willful, too giddy; and too much
cOurted to heed his rather shy devotion.
She. is dying Of thirst" continued Dave,
"and the brackish water makes her sick. Every
day for week have come to find oranges but
none arrived. The child shall have as many as
can carry to-day if I pay pound apiece for
them"
do not remember what they cost; but it was
aprice to startle the most reckless spend-thrift;
for other sick there were upon the Fields and
other devoted friends. We filled the sack which
Dave had brought, and at his request accom-
panied him to the wretched dwelling where
Louey Parsons lay, with her father and sister,
1t stood in the worst part of the camp, where
the irresponsible Kafir ignored the sanitary
commission. The air was sickly with smell Of
garbage rotting in open holes. Frowsy dig
gers, walking from drunken SPREE blinked at
the sunshine, and cOughed till they choked at
the door Of foul canteenS. Shouting black men
went by in gangs, some to work, others, their
term Of service ended. trO0ping toward the
veldt. Two in three Of them carried gun. the
product of their wages and all had a bundle of
loot. They babe farewell to dis
tant comrades in cup very musical, but very
melancholy. and peculiarly distressing, as we
knew, to invalids.
This is a bad quarter for sick person." /
said.
"You should visit it at night" Dave an
swered bitterly. 81 tell you, Parsons has killed
my girl in sheer pride and obstinacy. Heaven
knows how they have lived for the last few
weeks! Parsons claim is no good, and he'll
not take help. And SO little Loo is dying"
Before small frame house, stained and
patched, sat a gray old man smoking. His face
did not proposes me; but so white it was with
yesterdays dust that we could scarcely trace
the features. His shirt-sleeves, rolled to the
shoulder DISPLAYED only skin and muscle He