Such diggers as have remained on the field since the "early days" seem never to be tired of talking of the life they then led as the happiest they have ever known. Then, each would peg out his claim and go to work therein with pick and shovel, depending scarcely at all upon the uncertain help of the lazy Kafir, but with his own strong arm attacked the hard, pebbly soil in which the diamond was imprisoned, and in a primitive way "washed" the soil for diamonds. They are not to be picked up walking through the streets or over the "floors" where the soil lies becoming pulverised by sun and rain. They hide away and peep out sometimes after several cartloads have been washed through the machine. The days have gone forever when a lucky blow of the pick, or a fortunate turn of the spade, might result in a prize worth a fortune to the finder. Now there are no poor man's diggings, and one must possess great wealth before he attempts to seek the diamond in its rocky bed. The time when a poor man could go to the fields and possibly make a fortune in the first week of his stay, has passed away. The mines are now drifting into the hands of a few large companies, and everybody is looking to the Transvaal, with its budding gold fields, as the scene of the next South African Eldorado. CHAPTER ELEVEN. So interesting and novel was the life at the fields, that although in many respects our surroundings and mode of living were rough and primitive, there was a charm about it that atoned for most of its shortcomings. After much difficulty, soon after our arrival we succeeded in finding a small house, which we rented, as being more comfortable and affording greater privacy than a hotel. We fortunately obtained an excellent housekeeper, a worthy Scotchwoman, whose husband was engaged as overseer in the mine for one of the companies. Our house contained one large room, with four other very tiny ones opening out of it. The kitchen was, after the manner of South Africa, situated away from the house, at one corner of the large plot of ground which surrounded the house. The roof and walls were, like its neighbours, of corrugated iron, and a spacious verandah encircled it; a high rush fence which inclosed the compound served to keep out intruders and prevent the curious gaze of any inquisitive passer-by. Here we led a happy life, with Frank improving in health every day of her existence. Our rent was 125 dollars a month. Wood was 75 dollars a wagon-load: it had been known as high as 200 dollars, but coal, having been found in the immediate vicinity, had been brought into the market by some of the more enterprising of the farmers and had taken the place of wood for fuel in the furnaces.