P025 19370503
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PORTMANTEAU 025
c/o Mrs Jager,
Redwood,
Livingstone.
3rd May, 1937.
Darling Everybody,
Well, here I am in Livingstone, and it is absolutely beastly leaving my other half and I feel like a skin without anything inside because I've left everything of me there. It all happened very suddenly luckily, so we didn't have any of that awful "this is our last lunch/tea/walk and set together" and we knew it was going to be ghastly but it was even more so than I had imagined it would be. I hadn't thought of it very much as it was so vague and distant, and then when he suddenly wasn't there anymore there was a horrible big Blank.
Yesterday afternoon, just after he had taken my queen but I had won all the same (if I remember rightly), we went off to rest and there was a buzzing and we found an aeroplane in our midst, so we thought, "oh, Lor, it's the Phibbses, that means I've got to go." So we rushed out swearing that we'd never part again anyway, but it wasn't the Phibbses, it was McGill, the Livingstone pilot, with one passenger going up to Sioma, and he had a note from the Phibbses, saying that they had arrived in Livingstone and were not flying up after all, but were buying a car and motoring through via Mulobezi and Machili. So we thought, well, that means we'll have to write and tell Spencer to come and fetch me, and he'll write back and say his plane's out of action and we'll have to write to R.A.N.A.in Lusaka and tell them, and they'll charge us a mere 20 quid or so, and it's the most awful bore. So McGill said "Well, I'll be coming down again in about two hours time, shall I come down and pick you up?" So we said what-Ho and they pooped off.
So then we hopped to it and jumped on suitcases and had a good cry and then at teatime he appeared again and swept me off to Livingstone and I almost jumped out again when we went past him standing there, and I would have if the window had been bigger or I hadn't been so Fat.
We had a very nice flight indeed, not a sign of game though as the Simalaha Flats were still flooded, the trees on the other side of the river looked all lovely and soft and fluffy and were a brilliant mauve, and the river was orange, and we arrived just as the sun set. The McGill's gave me a lift in here in their V8 box-body, and I am staying with Mrs Jager till the 16th, when the Griffin and I go up to Lusaka.
Mr Jager is the Manager of the Zambesi Sawmills, and Mrs is being terribly sweet and kind to me and most sympathetic she had to leave her husband and go down to Cape Town to have her eldest daughter, Jessie, who is now 9 1/2. I met her at
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Mrs Cartmell-Robinson's when we stayed with her in October, and soon after I got to Sesheke she wrote me a very sweet letter saying that I was to let her know if there was anything she could do for me in the way of shopping, and also if ever I was in Livingstone she love to have me to stay. She is awfully nice, tall and thin, and they have three children, Jesse, 9 1/2, who has just gone to school at Choma, but is now home for the holidays; Mary, 4 1/2, thin and rather delicate -looking; and Richard 13 months, absolutely fast and so red-cheeked and healthy although he had Whooping Cough in December and malaria in February!
They've got such a nice house, quite big, and everything is made of the Redwood tree that the sawmills use, and all the furniture at such a is made at the sawmills – jolly useful. I wish the government would make a contract with them for furniture! It's so exciting having a big wardrobe with the door that Opens and Shuts, and drawers that actually go In and out without the handles coming off! All the floors are a deep reddish brown, beautifully smooth and polished and so cool and attractive looking.
Tuesday, 4th May.
Yesterday Mrs J.and I went up-town, and I had tea with the Phibbses at the Fairmount and gave them a letter from my G.she's a very bright little person, older than him, very made-up and smart (I believe she makes-up at Sesheke!) And I think she must be amusing as it was she who named Lily Hippo. She doesn't really mind going back to Sesheke, not so much as he does, but another tour IS a bit thick, especially in that house.
By the way, I forgot tell you, about a fortnight ago we moved out of the bedroom onto the Veranda; I used to rest in the bedroom in the afternoon and got quite used to the ominous thumps and bumps on the ceiling and didn't really think about them, but one day G. saw that there was a vast crack between two of the steel plates almost directly over the head of the bed, and it was sagging in a most putrefying way, so we decided that discretion was the better part of valour and we were both MUCH too nice to be cut off in our prime by a tin ceiling, so we move the beds out onto the Veranda and were very comfy there and it was lovely and cold in the morning.
It was very useful to me that we had moved out, as I was able to use the whole bedroom as a packing room, and got on splendidly with all the clothes etc.
Poor Mrs Phibbs wasn't too frightfully thrilled at that, but she was very pleased about the Tiger Cats as she was wondering how she could get some, and that we have two un-wanted ones sitting on her doorstep for her. I forgot to tell you about them, too; we didn't want to keep them any more as
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they seemed completely unattainable and G. hates cats and the Livingstone game Park didn't want them, so we can their ropes off after about 10 days and let them go. But would they go? Not they – they knew where their food came from! They just live in the grass, sleeping under the orange tree or in their Impala House all day, and running about on the aerodrome at night, when we give them milk and meat; they growl horribly at us when we go near, and strike out at us with their claws and are as wild as ever. At one moment I could, by sitting by them for half an hour or so and bringing my hand very gradually nearer to them, scratch the backs of their ears, but if I or Merry made the slightest sudden movement out came their claws and teeth. Still, Mrs Phibbs says she's going to have a biff at taming them, and she might succeed if she's patient.
Mr Phibbs is looking ever so much better than he was when we took over from him – he's fattened out a bit I think, and his cheery and laughing and looks thoroughly refreshed after his six months' leave.
I think we are leaving Sesheke better than we found. We have four beds of peas, about a foot high now and looking very healthy, two beds of strawberries, not doing very well, a bed of beams that are shooting up almost visibly, some marrows and tomatoes and a few carrots and lettuces but not very good ones. The pansies are looking very promising, so are the six surviving salvias, and there are three yellow dahlias out, and the morning glory really IS, but it is a pity it dies every evening, and only looks its best till about midday.
We had such lovely weather the last 10 days or so, beautifully cold and piety in the mornings, nice and warm but not hot all day, and cold in the evenings so we had to wear pullovers for shooting, and for blankets at night. Young Merry slept in an armchair in an eiderdown inside the mosquito net at the bottom of the bed, and sometimes in the middle of the night a little cold wet nose would shove itself down under the bed clothes between us and a little shiver-shiver body would curl up and go to sleep down there.
I have just been up to the African Lakes Corporation (commonly known as the A.L.C.) and they have just heard from the man in Lusaka that he is railing our Bull Terrier bitch puppy, Judy, down either today or tomorrow, so they are going to let me know when she arrives now go and see her before she goes up to Sesheke; she'll get there nicely in time to go up to Mankoya with G. , as I don't think he is leaving till after the coronation. The Bull won't be coming for some time as he is not old enough apparently, and we haven't heard a word from the Umtali girl-Fox-Terrier.
On Thursday afternoon J.D.Martin arrived in his Chev box-body, plus Mr Purchase, the P.P. campaign man, and they
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stayed till Sunday, when they left at crack of dawn before we were up even. I don't know what they did while they were with us, but they had great fun shooting. They went out every day just after lunch for Green pigeon, and got 10 altogether; in the evening they went out again and got 12 snipe, 2 knobnose, 3 pink-billed-teal, 3 sand grouse and 2 pheasants altogether; and after dinner they got the car and we went out on the aerodrome after spring hares, and got 26 hares, 10 rabbits, 1 meerkat and a Steinbok altogether.
The latter was great fun. We had two guns, a .22 and Dad's shot gun, standing up in the truck with the guns levelled along the top of the cab, and they made a fine imitation of G-men! We took several boys in the back to, and old Hunk lolloped along beside us; we drove up the side of the 'drome, and when the headlights picked up a pair of eyes we trod on the accelerator and just dashed at them as hard as we could, tried to race the animal before it got into the bush, and the guns blazed off at full speed ahead, and old hunk put his best feet foremost and fairly tore after the animals. Shooting was amazingly good, and it was rather extraordinary how very often they did get them with the first shot, when the animal was moving and so was the car. Hunk caught several two, and we had some marvellous chases. As soon as the animal was down the boys leapt off the back with a rush and all raced yelling to get the animal first, waving their knobkerries in the most terrifying manner.
The first night they got seven spring hares, and a rabbit and a Selous' meerkat, and the next morning I took a film of them all, so you will soon have the great joy of seeing what a Spring Hair [sic] looks like. They have very short front legs, and long back ones, a sort of chestnut coat, and a long hairy tail; they jump just like kangaroos, but are really rats as they have teeth, and they don't use their tails for jumping with as Kangas do. The meerkat was silver-grey, with a bushy tail and rather like a mongoose, in fact I thought he was a mongoose at first, with his funny face and whiskers and his little stubby ears deep in his fur.
G. was very interested in the sandgrouse, as everyone we have got is a Transvaal Double-banded sandgrouse, with a band of white/black/white across their noses and across their chests, but the Priests book says they are not found here, so we're really rather clever.
But by Jove that spring hare hunting was fun! We did not stick to the aerodrome all the time, but dashed all over the place, round the gaol and the messengers' lines and the office, and all round the back of the house. It made it all the more thrilling that we knew there were holes about here and there, though all the big ones had been filled up beforehand, so there was quite a risk of falling into one, which would be
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quite exciting at a speed of 30 – 40 m.p.h.! And the thrill of dashing all out for the bush, wondering if you're going to get there before the animal, and then pulling up dead within a few inches of a tree-stump or something.
The steinbuck was rather sad though. We picked up his eyes with the headlights and by the time we discovered he was a buck Hunk had got onto his trail, but unfortunately after a bit of a chase he got the little chap down, and was holding him by the neck; we might have been able to save him by going and removing Chief, but he would probably have been so badly mauled it would have been kinder to kill him, and he was squeaking horribly so the boys went and killed him. Afterwards we discovered that one of his horns was growing round, was just about to go into his forehead, so perhaps it was just as well in a way that he died quickly as he did.
Sunday, the tragic parting day, was horrid, but we got a nice mail. Two from Mum, feeling very pleased with life, one posted at Plymouth and the other from HOME! Oh, it MUST be marvellous to be home again, and I can just imagine the dog worship! Has little Rusty returned, and is he better-mannered and nicer now? The first one was written the day before our birthday, and we're sorry to say we haven't got the wire yet, so something must have gone wrong somewhere. I'll ask the P.O.
(there, isn't that annoying, it's done it again,
when I swish the thing back sometimes it catches
on the paper and tears it – it happened on Page 2 as well and it looks so nasty). I'll ask the P.O. here if they received it, and if not to make enquiries, because if it wasn't send off you can get your money back. We got a wire from Peter though, thank you very much for it, old boy.
I'm glad Mrs Wade sent Portmanteaux 19 and 20 to meet you at Marseille – but did you ever get letters from me at Port Said? I sent one there in the hopes of catching your boat, but I suppose it was too late; well, anyhow you can get any portmanteaux you have missed from Mummy, can't you. WeARE glad and relieved that last we have discovered a name seems to please everybody – Gillian! Except Peter who thinks it's ghastly! Well anyhow it's going to be Robin, so doesn't really matter, but now we've got it settled once and for all, so that's very convenient and we glad you like June to, as we both like that awfully – for the one after next! But IF it's a girl, and IF it manages to arrive in June now, I think we'll call it June, don't you? But it's Robin, so what are we fussing about?
Do let us know what films have arrived, and all about them in detail, as we'd love to know which bits have come out well and so on. I've been numbering them all very carefully and I've got of vast supply to take to Lusaka with me so that I can take dozens of Robin directly he's born! Won't that be
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marvellous, and it seems so near now that we are almost on the last lap. Miss Griffin arrives on Wednesday night, and is staying at the Fairmount, we go up to Lusaka on Sunday 16th as Mrs Fitzhenry can't have me till then.
There was a lovely one from Mummy, written on our birthday, enclosing some photos of Lindis' wedding – and Mum sent us 12, thank you Mum, and won't they ghastly ones of poor Lindis! Poor Mummy, what an awful time you seem to be having fixing up Western getting servants etc., what of beast that creature sounds, determined to to rock you of every penny you've got it seems like, doesn't it. I think I am going to remember to enclose the list of books that I forgot last week!
We also got one from Ralph, saying he had been to stay with the Crawfords; we are glad and hope they were nice to you and thought you were nice – very doubtful of course. Yes, Migs (plural, note, not Mig singular) is a very sweet girl indeed, naturally, as she was at school with me.
Yesterday (Monday the 3rd) after a nasty night and waking up and finding no darling there, Mr Jagger took young Jesse and me out to be game park, and that we saw all the baby animals in the nursery. There are two nursery pens, small one and a big one, and in the small one there were four sable, four duiker, one eland, one Sititunga and one bush buck, and they fed them through a rubber tube out of a bottle of milk, too sweet, and all the others were nuzzling round, eating the boys shirt and trying to get in before their turn.
In the big pen there were six eland, three of them quite big with horns and all, six sable, three hostages and the little Impala we sent down. He was looking awfully well and quite happy and tame, and it was rather fun seeing him. They only acknowledged receipt of him last week, and we sent him last December!
One of the eland was most amusing. He was about 3 foot six high, no horns, and enormous flapping ears, and he was in the baby pen; the boy pushed him out into the big pen after he had had his milk, so he calmly walked round the other side, stood vaguely for a minute, then hopped neatly over the fence, from a standstill, without even touching! We measured the fence, and it was 4 foot six – a whole foot higher than him. He did it three times!
We went on to the falls, which are very full now and hidden in spray and very wonderful, the Knife Edge looks very Knifey and black and slippery and sharp.
I've told the P.O. to keep all our letters back, so I'll read them and send them all on to G. when I've finished.
Lots of love everybody, from a very small and lonely half of
US.
