I　remain；　with　best　love　to　all；

Ever　your　most　affectionate　and　dutiful　son；

H。　Rider　Haggard　（or　“Waggart”　as　they　put　my　name

in　the　paper）。

My　mother　will　pity　me　when　I　tell　her　that　I’ve　got　to　get　servants。　Where　on　earth　am　I　to　find　servants；　and　who　am　I　to　ask　about　them？

Now　before　we　go　on　to　Natal　where　the　real　business　of　my　life　began；　I　will　stop　for　a　moment　to　take　stock　of　myself　as　I　was　in　those　days　at　the　age　of　nieen。

I　was　a　tall　young　fellow；　quite　six　feet；　and　slight；　blue…eyed；　brown…haired；　fresh…plexioned；　and　not　at　all　bad…looking。　The　Zulus　gave　me　the　name　of　“Indanda；”　which　meant；　I　believe；　one　who　is　tall　and　pleasant…natured。　Mentally　I　was　impressionable；　quick　to　observe　and　learn　whatever　interested　me；　and　could　already　hold　my　own　in　conversation。　Also；　if　necessary；　I　could　make　a　public　speech。　I　was；　however；　subject　to　fits　of　depression　and　liable　to　take　views　of　things　too　serious　and　gloomy　for　my　age　—　failings；　I　may　add；　that　I　have　never　been　able　to　shake　off。　Even　then　I　had　the　habit　of　looking　beneath　the　surface　of　characters　and　events；　and　of　trying　to　get　at　their　springs　and　causes。　I　liked　to　understand　any　country　or　society　in　which　I　found　myself。　I　despised　those　who　merely　floated　on　the　stream　of　life　and　never　tried　to　dive　into　its　depths。　Yet　in　some　ways　I　think　I　was　rather　indolent；　that　is　if　the　task　in　hand　bored　me。　I　was　ambitious　and　conscious　o