This was my first day's introduction to the moral condition of
Johannesburg. But to begin at the beginning. On arriving at midnight
at the frontier of the Transvaal, near the Vaal River, the train was
stopped in the open veld until daylight, for Boer officials require
daylight to make their conscientious examination of passengers and their
luggage. Half-an-hour after dawn the train moved over the Vaal Bridge,
and we were soon within the grip of the Boer Custom House. I was told
later that the officials were insolent; but I saw nothing uncommon,
except a methodical procedure such as might belong to a people resolved
to make a more than usually thorough search. The officials came in at
the rear end of the carriage, locked the door behind them, and informed
us we were to go out before them. The male passengers were ushered into
one corrugated-iron house, the females with their respective searchers
behind them into another. One burly passenger had diamonds concealed on
his person, but his clothes were only slightly felt. A small pale
clergyman just behind him, however, received marked attention, and was
obliged to take off his boots, and every article of his baggage was
minutely scrutinised. Probably some of the women searchers performed
their duties just as thoroughly. My servant was asked to pay duty on
some of my shirts, but he refused to pay anything, on the ground that
the shirts had been repeatedly worn and washed.