I shot four meercats which I have had skinned to make into tobacco pouches

Kimberley May 29th 1899

My dear Raymond and Joe

I received your jolly letters last thursday. It was the day following the Queen's Birthday. You know how this day is kept in Kimberley. At twelve oclock, the assembled volunteers are paraded on the football ground, where the old exhibition stood. All the world and his wife with his "uncles and his cousins and his aunts" attend, dressed in their best and brightest clothes; the officer in command stands in front of the troops watch in hand. As the clock strikes twelve, he gives the word of command, and the cannons boom forth seven booms; then the Kimberley rifles the Diamond Field Horse, and the cadets splitter splutter a fusillade, and the band plays the first part of God Save the Queen. Then another seven booms, another splutter from the rifles, & another few bars of the national anthem from the band; then a last 7 booms, a final splutter of musketry, and the concluding bars of God Save the Queen. When the smoke has cleared away, the order is given to present arms, the multitude of men who look on take off their hats, and the band plays God Save the Queen from beginning to end. Then the whole assemblage give three cheers for her Majesty the Queen and the function is over. In the afternoon there were military sports at which I ought to have officiated as judge. But instead I went to a funeral.
You remember Mr. Swift in the Compound store — his little son only four years old died the night before — and I knew it would please the poor father if he saw me at this child's funeral. I saw the little chap in his white coffin; and he looked like a waxen doll — not a bit like a child of dead flesh and clotted blood. The funeral went right away to Kenilworth cemetery about a mile beyond the village. It was a dreary way to drive Mr. Morton's spider for the occasion — to save cab–hire. The pony was very spirited and didn't like the slow pace. Twice he got his tail over the reins, and nipped it so tight that I couldn't get it out. In a frenzy of fright at feeling the strange thing under his tail he dashed forward, nearly colliding with the family mourning coach in front and nearly smashing into the hearse with the beautiful white coffin covered with lovely wreaths of roses and chrysanthemums. Luckily by a vigorous pull I got the rein free and the animal quieted down. But it was a weary drive and I had great difficulty in keeping awake.

The reason you got no letter from me last mail, was because I was away in the country on a shooting trip. I got permission from the General Manager to go to one of the company's farms and have a shoot. He would only allow drew to go with me.  I tried to get permission for Dr. Otto and Mr. Bayne, but Mr. Williams would not lt them go. He told me also to get a cart and horses from the stable compound to take us out, and bring us back. But that dunder headed old Waldek disappointed me, and I had to hire a cab for the journey. We started away at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning and arrived at the farm Oliphant Kop about 2 P.M. — 13 miles. We shot along the road, otherwise we would have got there earlier. The farmer was very good. Told us to send the cab cart back; and told us he would furnish us with cart and horse all the time we were there, and send us back to town when we were ready to go. Had we been the President of the Free State, and his secretary, he could not have done more to make us comfortable. His wife made up a comfortable bed for us in the drawing room and gave us breakfast and tea all the time we were there. Immediately after our arrival, Drew and I started out, eager to kill something; but after a hard walk of about 15 miles we returned with only three hares. We spent a merry evening with the family and early next morning after breakfasting at half past 6, we started away in the cart. Our driver was a young dutchman named Adrian Van–der Niever — a splendid chap. As it was sunday and shooting is against the Free state law, we had to be careful; and Adrian said it would not do for him to shoot. We only used the cart to take us away from the vicinity of the homestead. Then we got out and walked. We had a splendidly trained pointer dog whose working was a great pleasure to me. He was steady as a house, and when pointing would stand perfectly still until we had put up the game. I banged at hares and partridges, whenever I got a chance, which was not very often, but they enjoyed the fun quite as much as I did for I don't think I hit one of them. In the meantime, Drew's weapon was a far more deadly instrument; for by one O'clock, we had got two beautiful Duykers and a stembuck. The day was a lovely one — so bright and crisp; and the country we went through was very pretty. In most places the grass was too long for shooting. Whenever a buck was shot, Adrian, who was somewhere near with the cart came along and the carcase was loaded up. At one o'clock we outspanned and had lunch. The fresh livers of the bucks roasted on the clean bright coals made a dish fit for a king; and we finished up with some bread and butter and cheese. It was a delightful meal, and I felt that the years had rolled backward and I was once more living the free life of the bush. After and hour and a half's rest, we started once more and this time, Drew took his rifle for we were coming to the haunt of spring bucks. It ws not long before we sighted a herd; and Drew went off to stalk them. I walked round, so as to drive them past him. He shot a beautiful young ram at a distance of about four hundred yards. We carried our prize to the cart, which could not come nearer than half a mile to us, on account of a wire fence. We were both pretty bloody when we reached the cart, where a draught of weak whiskey and water moistened our parched throats. By this time it was getting towards evening and Adrian had to be home at five to milk the cows. So we got into the cart and drove slowly through the veldt, getting an occasional shot at a koorhaan or partridge, but did not add to our bag. On this day we walked more than thirty miles, and were back at the homestead about half past five.

Again a pleasant evening playing and singing for the children and to bed at half past ten. Next morning up at sunrise and an early breakfast. This time the farmer Mr. Wild accompanied us, Adrian driving as usual. We went in quite a different direction from our trips of the two preceeding days. The first kill was a huge spurwing goose, shot by Mr. Wild – an enormous bird. There were a flock of nearly fifty of them, but they flew off and settled in an immense vley under a line of hills close by. This vley was about 3 miles across – a veritable lake. The geese were quite safe from us here. The next kill was a coot, which I shot on a large dam. Then we had a long profitless walk of about four hours during which I shot two partridges. Again a halt for tiffin, and we regaled ourselves on Bread and cheese and a raw onion, washed down with a bottle of Bass' Ale. What appetites we had; and how we enjoyed it.

After an hour's rest we started again and Drew shot another sternbuck and two hares. Then he shot two koorhaan. We put up a covey of guinea fowl in the afternoon but did not succeed in getting any. The dog was tired – regularly worn out and would not hunt for them. Then I shot another partridge. As it was late Adrian had to leave us and make for a farm close by, where there was a horse waiting for him, to take him home in time to milk the cows. I took the cart and drove along whilst Drew and Mr. Wild still tried for game. Then when the sun was nearly setting. I loaded them up and we all drove home. Our bag now amounted to 5 bucks, 5 hares, 4 partridges, 4 koorhaans, 1 spurwing goose and 1 coot. 20 head of game as the result of the shoot, which was not so bad. Another pleasant evening with our kind hosts. Breakfast at 7 & then on Tuesday morning Adrian drove us into Kimberley. I shot four meercats on the way in, which I have had skinned to make into tobacco pouches. I will send you and Joe one each.

So ended three most delightful days during which I enjoyed myself tremendously and which did me a world of good. God bless you my dear boys. Kind regards to sir Edmund & Mr. Milne.
Your loving father
Frank Mandy