Nor is the summer much less unpleasant. During the rainy season the country is flooded by the violent downpour; the rain often fills up the shallow brack-pan (one of the salt lakes that dry up every year, lying in a depression about half a mile long at the south end of Dutoitspan, in a single day; and as the immediate consequence, the streets of Kimberley become so deluged that the traffic is impeded, and foot passengers can only with difficulty proceed at all. The new corporation has endeavoured to remedy this difficulty by laying down gutters, and taking other measures for draming the thorough-fares.
For a few days’ recreation at Christmas, 1872, I agreed to go on an excursion, baboon hunting, on the neighbouring hills in the west of the Orange Free State—the party consisting, besides myself, of a young German merchant, who found more opportunity for such diversion here than at home; a young Pole from Posen, whose mere love of adventure had brought him to the diamond-fields; and a Fingo, engaged to carry our baggage, and whose burden kept him in a perpetual vapour-bath. The Pole and myself were both duly equipped in proper hunting-costume. I was very anxious to make myself acquainted with the animal-world on the hills that bounded the eastern horizon; and, having visited my patients, and ascertained that they could dispense with my services for a short time, I started off from Dutoitspan early in the afternoon of Christmas Eve.
