All self-respecting Boer families join in the Dingaan Day celebration, many of them coming scores of miles to do so. The children are taught the story of "the day" in the schools, and it is probably the most important civic celebration of the year. Piet Potgier's party was entirely wiped out, none surviving attacks made by the combined impis of the Zulus and Basutus. CHAPTER II Rietvlei, the "Valley of Reeds"--The O'Neil homestead--Pioneer hardships--The war against Maleuw, "The Lion"--"Slim Gert" O'Neil breaks the power of the Makateese king--Jafta, King of the Mapors--My boyhood and "Jass"--Sibijaan, "The Skunk," becomes my pal--My first trousers nearly cost me an eye--Our toy factory and mimic battles--Oom Tuys Grobler tells of Swaziland and King Buno, "The Terrible." Rietvlei is one of the most beautiful accidents of nature I have ever seen. To properly appreciate this wonderful Valley of Reeds, it should be approached across the high veldt. To reach it in this way is to receive a thrill that is seldom felt when viewing any scene. It is set like a jewel in the wilderness of the veldt and seems more like a sunken oasis than anything else. Time and time again I have been almost startled when I suddenly saw Rietvlei. As you ride across the high veldt you are struck by its utter barrenness and the thousands of ant-hills on all sides. The wild grasses, browned by the sun, are higher than your horse's belly and far in the distance are the barren hills. The veldt, with its altitude of about seven thousand feet, is much like the plains of Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. It is almost desert. Hundreds of times I have crossed this veldt on my hairy Boer pony and always the same thing has happened. Several times, sometimes scores of times, springbok, blesbok, or duiker, the antelopes of the veldt, have jumped to their feet and scampered off through the tall grass. My pony would give one leap and then dash madly after them. If I was day-dreaming, I was likely to find myself unhorsed and facing a chase after my active steed. However, one gets used to such interruptions and it was seldom that I did not enjoy the chase. It is no use to think that a Boer pony can be prevented from pursuing these antelope; he is trained to do it from the first time he feels a saddle, and his quickness often makes it possible for the shot that provides fresh meat that night in camp. After miles and miles of veldt, with the distant hills seeming to recede as one goes on, the fascination of space loses its grip and the fatigue of monotony follows. About the time I would begin to feel like a sailor adrift in mid-ocean the blessed relief would come--I would reach Rietvlei!