occasion in Zululand, when he calmly appeared out of the ranks of a
hostile native /impi/. He was one of the strangest characters in all
South Africa. Evidently a gentleman in the true sense of the word,
none knew his history (although I know it now, and a strange story it
is), except that he was an American by birth, for in this matter at
times his speech betrayed him. Also he was a doctor by profession, and
to judge from his extraordinary skill, one who must have seen much
practice both in medicine and in surgery. For the rest he had means,
though where they came from was a mystery, and for many years past had
wandered about South and Eastern Africa, collecting butterflies and
flowers.

By the natives, and I might add by white people also, he was
universally supposed to be mad. This reputation, coupled with his
medical skill, enabled him to travel wherever he would without the
slightest fear of molestation, since the Kaffirs look upon the mad as
inspired by God. Their name for him was "Dogeetah," a ludicrous
corruption of the English word "doctor," whereas white folk called him
indifferently "Brother John," "Uncle Jonathan," or "Saint John." The
second appellation he got from his extraordinary likeness (when
cleaned up and nicely dressed) to the figure by which the great
American nation is typified in comic papers, as England is typified by
John Bull. The first and third arose in the well-known goodness of his
character and a taste he was supposed to possess for living on locusts
and wild honey, or their local equivalents. Personally, however, he
preferred to be addressed as "Brother John."

Oh! who can tell the relief with which I saw him; an angel from heaven
could scarcely have been more welcome. As he came I poured out a
second jorum of coffee, and remembering that he liked it sweet, put in