2110-1-10-15

Killyleoch Dunscore Dumfriesshire

2nd July 1902

My dear John

I am expecting a letter from you to be forwarded from Cairo some time this week and shall write you again when it arrives. Meanwhile I have abundance of spare time as I am back home on leave for three months with nothing particular to do. I am putting in the time between scouring the country on a horse, trying to resurrect James Sharpe and reading what I can lay hold of. I am expecting to get a fishing expedition to Loch Dee with Johnny J. some time soon. I had a most amusing letter from the great man two days ago from which he appears to be in excellent health and spirits. He said he had been

on a motor tour with Sandy in the Buchan country lately where your name acted as a talisman in every tavern and cottage between the Devil's Beef Tub & Broughton.

I left Cairo about three weeks ago and came home by Marseilles. I managed to more than pay my expenses on the route by winning a sweepstake on the steamer of £50. I stayed in London two days at the Inns of Court Hotel – a most comfortable place – but eh man! I missed you sorely. London is a dreary place when you know nobody, so I was glad after two days to escape to Oxford. There I stayed with the ancient Fellow Rait at New College and saw many old friends – Paul, trying to satisfy his people by passing groups in Law of which he knew nothing – Raymond with whom and Jimmy Tomkinson I had a day's golf when I played abominably, Badger

Morro, Cubby, Peter and many others. But it is a melancholy place to go back to – full of ghosts. I saw a lot of your brother; we had a row down to Sandford one day together. He has rooms just above your old ones. I went in to have a look at the old place. It seemed years since we used to sit in the window in front of the great tree and have tea together. John! I am afraid we are getting very old. Such a terrible lot seems to lie behind us. I had mind of old Taff too and paid a visit to 41. The place is turned into a painter's shop, with a great ugly signboard over your window. Duncan Warrand was there too. He is applying for a post in the Education Dept. in Egypt and ought to get it easily. He seems rather at a loose end at present, like so many other excellent people.

After three days dissipation I set

out for my old howff – the Dumfries Left Luggage Office, whither I had sent on an enormous quantity of baggage beforehand. I have made it my base of supplies and make occasional raids on it from the hills to carry off a clean shirt now and again when I want it. The day I arrived I went to James Nodwell (for reference see James Sharpe Book III page 728) horse couper, and hired a horse which is purported to have won the Grand National somewhere in the Bronze Period. Old Joe is his name and I believe he once belonged to Mr. Johnstone-Douglas. He has still enough spirit left to get over a hedge and jump a ditch or two. I have taken long ambles on him over various parts of Dumfriesshire, though I can never stray far at a time from my base of supplies. He is a douce quiet beast – "a terrible

happy horse sir" – as the old ostler put it and can do his 30 miles a day without much trouble. So I have practically realised James Sharpe's idea of being almost perpetually on the saddle. I am getting gradually better, though the doctor says it will take six weeks yet before I am quite fit again. Never get liver, John, if you can possibly help it; it's a devilish difficult thing to get rid of.

How are South African affairs progressing? Have you returned from your shooting expedition yet? I hope you have not got swallowed by the King of Beasts. My chief seems very anxious to know what I am going to do. I told him in my last letter that I had no definite word yet, and am not going to resign till I do. Of course I have not told him anything about it more than I could help. I am expecting to hear something in your next letter.