Chapter XVII: Part II: , p. 608.) (7)

They possess a remarkable capacity for remembering the exact time when they are likely to receive a large quantity of eatables from on board. Every day, about noon, the vicinity of the ship became animated, and towards one o'clock, after the crew had finished dinner, these lively creatures were close behind, and even fought for the pieces of tow with which the coppers had been cleansed. The boldest amongst them was the Cape pigeon, which pounced, with the utmost avidity, upon the dainty morsels thrown overboard, raising a loud scream, swimming round its prey, diving for sinking fragments, or snatching from each other those they had secured. Then came the black and brown-spotted and white albatrosses. As soon as one of these colossal birds appeared on the scene of strife, the uproar of the screaming pigeons at once became still; they kept themselves at a respectful distance from the voracious albatross, which quietly consumed its lion's share. In a few moments, yet greater numbers of these assembled, of which the black ones (_Ph[oe]betria fuliginosa_), like the large petrels, are extremely shy, and rarely approach the ship within gun-shot. The other large-sized petrels acted similarly, the brown spectacled-petrel, so named from two singular-looking black rings round the eyes, being the most numerous. Along with these were several small Mother Carey's Chickens, and flights of other winged creatures swarming over the sea. The darker the sky, the more agitated the sea, the more actively do the Cape pigeons tumble and toss behind the ship; it appears that in rough stormy weather they see less distinctly and find food with difficulty, in consequence of which they are in a famished state. Only under these circumstances, and when the ship is moving slowly, can they be caught with a line. To angle for birds may appear rather odd to the reader, and yet it is common enough in the Southern Ocean, amusing the sailor, and providing the zoologist with means of obtaining these birds alive. For this purpose, however, circumstances must be comparatively favourable; that is to say, the weather must be rough, the sea agitated, and the ship making but little headway. When the sky is serene, and the sea calm, even the Cape pigeons do not think it worth their while to throw a glance at the bait; and if the ship is moving fast, they have not speed enough to catch it, because they only swim, and the ship outspeeds them. The line, moreover, must be of tolerable length, so as, in the event of any bird evincing a desire to snap, to allow as much to be paid out as is necessary to leave the bait precisely in the same spot, without towing it through the water. It sometimes also occurs, particularly after sunset, that these birds, continually following in the wake of the ship, do not see the line, strike against it, and entangle themselves so that they may be easily drawn on board. The scream of the storm-pigeon when caught, makes it betray its fate even before those on board have an idea that it has been captured.

For the albatross, it is of course necessary to use a stronger hook, which it is best to attach to a copper wire, because this being thinner than line, is not so readily perceived. In order that the whole apparatus may swim on the surface of the water, a few cork floats are also made fast.

When an albatross has hooked itself, the full strength of a man is requisite to draw it on board, for the bird, in its despair, dives and keeps its wings spread under water, so that the resistance is very considerable, and frequently even the strongest lines are broken. This cannot be wondered at when their size is considered, as they measure from 10 to 14 feet across the extended wings, while their weight amounts to from 10 to 18 lbs.

Arrived on deck, none of these sea-birds are able to fly away; they move very clumsily on their webbed feet, and can only rise after a slanting spring, which, however, they cannot accomplish on firm ground; if in the water these birds want to rise into the air whilst swimming, they flutter their outspread wings for a little, and use their webbed feet in a kind of rowing motion, in order to acquire the requisite impetus. The albatross defends itself with its bill, which is often four to five inches long, and care must be taken to avoid being wounded in catching them. We also remarked that the Cape pigeons, in their rage at being captured, vomited up a slimy greasy substance.

The latter bird was of course new to us, and afforded us much amusement. Many were knocked over with the fowling-piece, especially when, in their inquisitiveness, they came too near the boats, which, as often as our rate of progress admitted, were launched with the view of adding to our collection of objects of natural history.

In shooting an albatross large shot must be used, as, at a distance of 15 or 20 feet, small shot do not penetrate the feathers and the down of the bird. What is most remarkable as regards these birds is the numerous parasites that live upon their bodies. It is most extraordinary how certain of these birds (as for instance, the _Puffins_ and _Procellariæ_) are infested by insects, their plumage sometimes swarming with small specimens of _Crustaceæ_.

On the 26th of September, the famous Table Mountain of the Cape was visible, after we had, the evening previous, at a distance of fourteen miles, sighted the lighthouse of Table Bay.

The twenty-six days of our voyage hither had flown quickly past, and we were still able vividly to recall the impressions made by Brazil, and the scenes we had gone through in mid-ocean, as the southernmost point of Africa came in sight with its characteristic hills, and our eyes and our thoughts were directed to another quarter of the globe. On the one hand, excited with the prospect of new scenery, and on the other, anxious to complete our elaborate observations upon Brazil, so as to be able to send them home from the Cape, we found ourselves in a frame of mind which kept us alternately hard at the desk, or drove us on deck to admire the remarkable outline of Cape Colony. We did not, at the present season, think it advisable to run right into the bay, so as to anchor near Cape Town, but resolved to double the Cape, and proceed to Simon's Bay, the usual anchorage for ships-of-war. We were, however, sadly disappointed in the hope of soon reaching it, as the south-east wind freshened so much that on the 27th it had become a gale, which forced us out to sea again. The world-known swell off the Cape began under the ever-increasing wind to run high, and we were soon involved in one of those famous Cape storms which justified the Portuguese in calling the promontory of South Africa, "Cabo Tormentoso," or the Cape of Storm.[51]

[Footnote 51:

"Through such mad seas the daring Gama fought,
Incessant toiling round the stormy Cape."
(_Lord Strangford's Camoens._)
]

The wind and spray roared and lashed through the rigging: higher and higher rose the huge mountains of water, with their white crests, that tossed the ship like a plaything from side to side. The waves foamed in through the port-holes on the gun-deck, while masts, cordage, timbers, every part of the ship groaned and creaked, a perfect medley of sights and sounds, including woful destruction of crockery, and the heavy rolling of erratic cannon-shot that had broken loose from the rack, and were rushing about the deck--above all which was heard the shrill whistle of the pipe of the boatswain's mate. The scene fairly baffled all powers of description, and must have been eminently impressive for those who for the first time experienced what is meant by "a gale at sea," especially at night, when the moon, struggling through the flying vapours, lit up the appalling scene with a livid supernatural tint.

On the afternoon of the 28th the gale reached its highest point, and raged fearfully for some hours. The frigate proved herself, in this turbulence of the waters, to be thoroughly seaworthy. At the same time the sun shone brilliantly, the sky was clear and beautiful, and only here and there some feathery clouds were to be seen. There was a curious sense of dualism in this serenity of the sky, in contrast with the fury and agitation of the waves. Gradually the wind chopped round towards the east, which gave some hope that the gale would abate, but, nevertheless, the ship was tossed about worse than ever.

The waves, like gigantic ridges, mounted, according to measurement, to the height of from 30 to 35 feet above the mean level of the sea, and occasioned that terrible rolling of the ship, and those fearful lurches, which, once experienced, are not readily forgotten.

Hitherto the altitude of a wave has been generally measured merely by the eye, so that the result depended too much on the accuracy of individual observation to admit of its being exactly ascertained; and it is for this reason that the statements relative to the maximum height of the ocean wave are so various that they cannot be considered reliable, for whilst some observers estimate them to be from 60 to 70 feet, others reckon them only at from 30 to 40 feet.

On board the _Novara_ the following method of admeasurement was adopted: we first determined, by a chronometer, the time that a wave takes to pass from one end of the ship to the other, whereby the velocity of the progressive motion of the wave could be calculated in relation to the ship's course and speed, regard being had to the direction and velocity of the ship against it. With this velocity ascertained, we were in a position to determine and fix the average distance between two consecutive waves. Lastly, the height of the wave was ascertained from the angle at which the frigate rose and fell in the line of its keel, by the influence of each successive wave and by means of the ascertained distance from the trough of the sea to the crest of the wave. Though this method, likewise, has many difficulties and deficiencies, yet it appears well suited to make correct comparisons between the different waves; and, under certain favourable conditions, it yields so accurate a result, that at any rate it is to be preferred to mere guess-work, besides that the experiment itself is susceptible of many improvements. It seems safe to assume that waves scarcely ever attain an elevation of more than 40 or 45 feet.

The gale had driven us a long distance out, and only after great trouble did we again near the land. On the 1st of October the Cape came once more in sight; we tacked, in order to get into the wide gulf termed False Bay, by which in some respects the peninsula of the Cape is formed, being separated only by a low sandy plain from the Atlantic. Whittle's rock renders tacking in its neighbourhood in so far more difficult, as the existing charts of the bay are not sufficiently exact to be implicitly relied on. Buoys have often been fixed in that quarter, but every new gale carried them away again; so that the position of the rock is not indicated. An English pilot now came on board, who brought papers, and intelligence that a number of letters were waiting for us. Our impatience became stronger when towards evening the light breeze entirely ceased, and we thereby were forced to bring up at a distance of a mile and a half from the actual anchorage. About the same time an officer arrived from the British line-of-battle-ship _Boscawen_, under the flag of Rear-Admiral Grey, in order to serve as a guide should no pilot have boarded us.

On the 2nd of October, at 7 A.M., the anchor was let go in Simon's Bay, a spacious but gloomy-looking sheet of water. Here ships ride much more secure than in Table Bay, from which, in a stiff westerly or north-westerly breeze, vessels are often forced to run out to sea to avoid being driven on shore. The communication with the land is thus sometimes interrupted for days. From Simon's Bay to Table Bay, round the Cape the distance is forty miles, whilst by land the journey to the capital of the colony is, with good horses, performed in three hours.

VI.

Cape of Good Hope.

STAY FROM 2ND TO 26TH OCTOBER, 1857.

Contrasts of scenery and seasons at Cape Colony. Ramble through
Simon's Town.--Malay Population.--The Toad-fish, or
Sea-devil.--Rondebosch and its delightful scenery.--Cape
Town.--Influence of the English element.--Scientific and other
Institutions.--Botanical Gardens.--Useful plants.--Foreign
Emigration.--A Caffre prophet and the consequences of his
prophecies.--Caffre prisoners in the Armstrong Battery.--Five
young Caffres take service as sailors on board the _Novara_.--
Trip into the interior.--Stellenbosch.--Paarl.--Worcester.--
Brandvalley.--The Mission of Moravian Brethren at
Genaadendal.--Masticatories and intoxicating substances used
by the Hottentots.--Caledon.--Somerset West.--Zandvliet.--Tomb
of a Malay Prophet.--Horse Sickness.--Tsetse-fly.--Vineyards
of Constantia.--_Féte champêtre_ in honour of the _Novara_.--
Excursion to the actual Cape of Good Hope.--Departure.--A life
saved.--Experiments with Brook's deep-sea sounding apparatus.--
Arrival at the Island of St. Paul in the South Indian Ocean.

There can scarcely be a landscape more gloomy and desolate than the sterile, rocky mountains, and white sandy plains, which, like snow-fields, inclose Simon's Bay. Coming from the charming coast of Brazil, with its luxuriant verdure, the contrast becomes doubly unpleasing. A narrow green strip of land, running along from a small fort, forms a refreshing sight and a resting point for the eye fatigued with looking at these grim masses of stone. The traveller who merely touches at Simon's Bay without pushing into the interior, or who visits the Cape in the winter of the southern hemisphere (from April to September), can scarcely form an idea of the voluptuous loveliness which reigns during spring and summer in the interior of the colony, and will regard as fictitious those brilliant descriptions of its natural beauties, related by travellers who have been fortunate enough to visit this point of South Africa at those genial seasons.

Had we left the Cape without seeing anything else than the melancholy neighbourhood of False Bay and the dull little settlement of Simon's Town, on its left bank, we should have carried away very different impressions and ideas to those entertained after having during spring passed some weeks in the delightful interior, and obtained at the same time an insight into the social condition of the colony.

On the very day that we cast anchor in the bay, we took a stroll (our first footfall upon the soil of Africa) through Simon's Town, which consists of a single street of about forty clean, neat, and tidy-looking houses, straggling along the shore. The principal buildings are the Arsenal, the residence of the admiral of the station, five churches (one of which belongs to Roman Catholics), and two tolerably large hotels.

It is hardly possible to conceive any town occupying a more dreary dismal site, with the exception, perhaps, of some of the Peruvian settlements on the west coast of South America. While the eye, below this row of houses, beholds nothing but granite rocks thickly strewn with shells, the main street is overhung by steep sandstone rocks, which, despite the marvellous richness of the blooming flowers, that well repay the researches of the naturalist, have a naked gloomy aspect, viewed from a distance, and are environed right and left by waste patches of white sand.

The favourite walks of this small place seem to be along the shore, or on the road to Cape Town, into the soft sand of which the foot of the traveller is continually sinking. A number of ladies and gentlemen whom we met walking appeared to be somewhat surprised at the unusual appearance of an Austrian man-of-war, the flag of which was gaily fluttering in the gloomy bay. The residents in Simon's Town, amounting to about 800 souls, are mostly Malays, descendants of those numerous compulsory emigrants, who, during the period of Dutch ascendency at the Cape, had been transported from Java and other islands of the Indian Archipelago, owing to the want of labour or for political causes. For the Dutch used to send to the Cape Colony, as a place of banishment, many wealthy and influential Malay families, by whom the first germs of Mohammedanism were introduced into South Africa. It would even seem that the religious opinions of the Malay population exercise some influence on the habits of the Christian settlers of Simon's Town, as no butcher, for instance, would venture to kill and sell pigs for fear of giving offence to his Mohammedan customers.

On a fine spring morning we started in a handsome vehicle from Simon's Bay to Cape Town. The road runs close along the seashore, which, seen from a distance, apparently consists of nothing but sand and rock, but, on more near acquaintance, exhibits at various points delightful nooks decked with most beautiful flowers. Everything indicated, by its glorious blooming garment, the bursting forth of spring.

One hour's ride led us to a neat little fishing hamlet where an immense number of fish were hanging up to dry in the sun. The bones of whales are used by the inhabitants for all sorts of purposes; they fence their fields and gardens with the ribs, build walls with the vertebræ, make steps and stairs of the shoulder bones, and use the large jaw-bones as arches at the entrances of their huts. One of the owners of this fishing station was kind enough to offer us, as a particular dainty, a piece of flesh cut from the jaw of a whale and boiled in fat; but we were not exactly of the same opinion after having, from curiosity, tasted a few mouthfuls. The bay is very rich in the snook-fish (_Thyrsites Atun_), of which several hundred tons are pickled here annually and sent to the Mauritius.

Another fish caught here is said to be extremely injurious to health, and even to endanger life--the small toadfish (_Tetraodon Honkenyi_), which exists in shoals, and may easily be caught with a line. One of the harbour regulations consists of a special paragraph warning seamen against using this poisonous "sea-devil." Foreign sailors who have eaten of it have died a few minutes after.

On leaving this fishing station the road, leaving the coast, proceeds in a straight line over the plain which unites the Cape with the continent. The mountains recede, and the eye of the traveller gazes, charmed and surprised, on the mountain range of the peninsula, the celebrated Table and Devil's Mountains. The plain, which, during the dry season, is nothing but an arid desert, was now seen in its fullest beauty, like a flowery carpet, on which innumerable blossoms of varied hues and forms were interwoven. On the left lie the renowned vineyards of Constantia, and to the right stands what is called Halfway-house, the property of a native of Würtemberg who, some twenty years before, came to the Cape a poor emigrant, and is now a wealthy and respected man, known far and wide, holding several official appointments, and showing himself a warm patron of his German countrymen. Being a zealous sportsman, and intimately acquainted with the locality, Mr. Rathfelder was of great service to our zoologists, who took up their residence at this place.

From the Halfway-house to Cape Town the character of the landscape completely changes. The road leads through a park-like country; charming wood plantations, pines and oaks, stretch on either hand to the extreme limits of an undulating plain, intersected by long shady paths, the vistas terminating with elegant villas built in the Dutch or English style. Here are Cape waggons, drawn by ten to twenty oxen, side by side with elegant two or four-horse carriages and densely-packed omnibuses, such as one may see in Cheapside. We have now arrived in the charming Rondebosch, a village that might well aspire to the dignity of a town, chiefly inhabited as a summer residence by the wealthier inhabitants of Cape Town. The impression made by this beautiful road will never be obliterated from the memory of any one who has ever ridden over it in the spring. We were as much delighted by the sight of this smiling and verdant landscape as we had been depressed by the sandy plains of Simon's Bay. There, extended in charming variety before the fascinated eye, lay Table Bay with its ships, Cape Town, and the gigantic rocky wall of the Table Mountain resting on its granite base, and rising nearly perpendicular to an altitude of 3500 feet, together with the Lion's Head and the Devil's Peak. The distant background on the other side of the plain is bounded by the precipitous face of high, rugged, and broken mountain walls, the summits of which were covered with snow.

Convenient and comfortable quarters were found in the Freemasons' Hotel, situated in the Parade, a large square planted with pines. Here, to our surprise, we met an Austrian, attending as waiter, who had been driven by the wild waves of the late revolution into the wide world, until he met with a peaceful existence at the Cape of Storms!

Favoured by introductions to the most eminent men of science, who received us in the most friendly way, we succeeded, in the course of a few weeks, in acquiring rich and valuable scientific collections, and forming important connections for the future supply of our museums. A most cordial reception was accorded us by Mr. Julius Mosenthal, the Austrian Consul, and the head of one of the leading mercantile firms of the colony. In his hospitable house, German music and German song made us entirely forget that we were sojourning thousands of miles from home at the southernmost point of Africa.

Cape Town is oblong in plan, with long wide streets, intersecting at right angles. It is destitute of imposing buildings; a commercial place, with pretty dwelling-houses, built in the English style and comfortably furnished, all of a light brown hue, owing to the dust, which, in south-east or north-west winds, envelopes the town in whirling clouds, and may indeed be considered the only plague of this healthy delightful climate. The English element, which, with the stereotyped customs of its life and its equitable laws, possesses, wherever it obtains a footing, so powerful an influence, has almost entirely superseded the Dutch, which continues to exist only in the lonely farmhouses far in the interior. There is scarcely anything remaining to indicate that Cape Town was founded by the Dutch; and were it not for the yellow Malay faces, with their gaudy head-coverings or umbrella-shaped straw hats, and the tawny mestizoes, who remind us of the aboriginal inhabitants, and give a completely foreign colouring, one might easily fancy one's self to be in an old English provincial town. Generally speaking, any one arriving here with preconceived notions of finding himself amongst Hottentots and Bushmen, or in a state of society differing materially from that of Europe, will soon discover that he has been entirely mistaken. The aborigines whom Jan van Riebeck found, when, with three Dutch ships, he landed in 1652 at Table Bay, and in the name of the Dutch East India Company established a settlement, have now almost entirely disappeared from the capital. If any one desires to see a veritable Hottentot or Bushman, he must undertake a troublesome journey, of weeks' duration, into the inhospitable interior. In Cape Town this singular race is only now and then to be met with in prisons or hospitals, and even then of a mixed breed.

The colony has now a population of 280,000 white and coloured inhabitants, of whom about 30,000 live in Cape Town; half of these are whites, and probably not more than 1000 form the higher and influential class. There can be no doubt that when, in 1815, the English took possession of the Cape, a firm foundation had been laid already by the Dutch 150 years before; but the real progress of the country, and the development of its natural resources, date only from the commencement of British rule, by which those shackles were thrown off with which the narrow-minded colonial policy of the Dutch had fettered this settlement, like all others that owned their sway.

The Cape Colony since 1850 has possessed a Legislative Council of 15 members, and a House of Assembly of 40 deputies. The executive power rests in the hands of the Governor-General, appointed by the British Government. All bills passed by this parliament require the royal assent before they become law.

It is impossible to speak in too high and eulogistic terms of Sir George Grey, whom we had the happiness at the time of our stay to find in the important position of Governor-General of the colony. Owing to the wisdom with which Sir George governed this important colony, he gained for himself the love and admiration of the people to such an extent that, after the expiration of the regularly fixed period of his office as Governor, they petitioned the Queen of England for his re-appointment. Sir George is not only an able statesman, but also a sound scholar, possessing a most complete collection of books and manuscripts on the Australian, Polynesian and African languages, and he is a most zealous patron of the numerous scientific institutions of the colony.

The astronomical observatory, under the superintendence of Mr. Maclear, has preserved the celebrity which it attained by the great work on the constellations of the southern hemisphere, the materials for which were collected by Sir John Herschel during his residence here some twenty years since. There is now a transit instrument, which in accuracy excels even that of the Observatory at Greenwich, and which is said to have cost upwards of _£_2000.

The South African Museum, containing collections of natural history, is now under the superintendence of Mr. L. Layard (brother of the celebrated investigator of Nineveh). This institution, as well as the South African public library, the literary, scientific, and mechanics' institutions, besides nearly fifty other establishments and societies for religious, benevolent and industrial purposes, owe their foundation and flourishing condition to the public spirit and the charitable disposition of the inhabitants of the colony. In 69 schools scattered over its surface, upwards of 18,000 pupils are educated according to a system introduced in 1841 by Sir John Herschel.

The Botanical Gardens, likewise founded and kept up by private subscription, are not only a most agreeable resort, but also afford much instruction, arising from the many interesting and useful plants gathered here from all quarters of the world. To those which are adapted for cultivation in the sandy plains of the Cape, great attention is devoted. Some of them have been found available in forming as it were vegetable walls of protection against the inroads of the sand, so destructive to all cultivation. As particularly serviceable for this purpose, were mentioned to us _Fabricia variegata_, a sea-shore shrub of from 6 to 10 feet high; _Protea myrtifera_; the so-called Hottentot fig: _Mesembryanthemum edulis_; and the Cape wax-myrtle _Myricacordifolia_;--all these are found to thrive in the sand without cultivation, put a stop to its ravages, and in some respects may be considered as the pioneers of all other plants, which do not thrive before the sandy soil has been prepared for them. Nay, singularly enough, some of these (as for instance the Hottentot fig), become extinct as soon as others make their appearance, just in the same way as the pioneer of civilization, the backwoodsman in the west of the United States, leaves his lonely blockhouse and hurries on as soon as overtaken by the peaceful settler. The wax-berry shrub is also otherwise useful to the inhabitants; from its berries a substance is prepared well suited for making candles. According to a treatise on its culture two workmen are able to realize with a defecator daily 100 lbs. of white wax from the berries gathered by six persons. The expense of labour, &c., does not exceed 18_s._ per 100 lbs., or about 2_d._ per pound. A large quantity of this vegetable substance has lately been sent to London, where it is said to have met with a profitable market. In the Botanical Garden of Cape Town we first met the two celebrated grasses known as _Holcus Caffrorum_ and _Holcus saccharatum_, which, by their usefulness in domestic life, have more extensively, and perhaps quickly, than any other plant, spread over the world. We are indebted to the Secretary of the Board of Public Roads, W. De Smidt, Esq., for some seeds of these and other plants, as also to Mr. McGibbon, manager of the Botanical Gardens, for similar favours.

Considering the deficiency of labour, and the large sections of fertile land as yet uncultivated in the colony, Sir George Grey has directed great attention to the immigration of German emigrants of respectable characters, of all trades, as well as those attached to agricultural pursuits. The plan adopted is an excellent and thoroughly honest one. Every emigrant, if single, obtains from the Government thirty acres of good land, and, if married, fifty; five for each child above one, and ten for every one exceeding ten years of age. The rate of the land is to be fixed by Government at a fair and reasonable sum, and, together with the passage-money, to be paid four years after the location of the emigrant, in five annual instalments. From the moment the colonist steps on African ground he is an independent owner of land, although not entitled to sell his property until his obligations to the Government are liquidated. The local parliament has granted a sum of _£_50,000 to promote emigration. The Cape probably offers to an industrious emigrant a more advantageous field for active energy than any other country in the world. Some of the German colonists, the remnant of the British Legion engaged in the Crimean war, who, under General Stuttersheim, have settled in British Caffraria, are thriving prosperously. They are the first pioneers of the German element in South Africa, and, under the protection of a liberal and free government, are increasing in number annually in consequence of the favourable reports which they transmit to their native country.

An emigration of a peculiar kind has unexpectedly taken place. An impostor amongst the Caffres, who had assumed the character of a prophet, pronounced the end of the world as imminent, in consequence of which large numbers of them slaughtered their cattle and left their fields uncultivated. Being thus, in a short time, reduced to a state of perfect destitution, not less than 19,000 of starving Caffres sought help and an asylum in the British territory during the year 1857, and before its close the number had increased to 30,000. The colonial Government, out of consideration to the welfare of the colonists, admitted only those Caffres who bound themselves to act as servants, for at least one year, at reasonable wages, and in order to prevent any danger arising from being congregated in too large numbers, they were located by the Government officers in various detached parts of the colony.

A very active society of philanthropists exists here, under the title of "The Committee of Emigration from Holland." Its object is to bring over orphans and children of the poor from the overpopulated Dutch provinces. These useful emigrants are partly located as apprentices to farmers, and remain until they are of age under the care of the Committee. During our stay a party of seventy boys and girls just arrived from Holland assembled, with their conductors, in one of the large avenues of the Botanical Garden, to be inspected by the Governor-General. They all looked healthy and cheerful, and seemed to have but little suffered from the fatigues of a long voyage. When Sir George Grey made his appearance the children sang the English National Anthem, translated into Dutch, and afterwards the sweet, affectionate song, "When the swallows homewards fly." Some young emigrants, who, two years ago, had come under similar circumstances from Holland, had already obtained good situations, and greeted their little compatriots most heartily. Being asked if they wished to return to Holland, they replied, without the slightest hesitation, in the negative, declaring that they felt very happy where they were,--an announcement of course peculiarly agreeable to the new-comers.

An interesting opportunity was afforded to us of seeing a large number of Caffres, of both sexes, who had been brought in as prisoners in consequence of having made predatory incursions into the British territory. They all arrived in a state of nudity, and in most wretched plight, but were immediately provided with European clothes--blue striped shirts, sheepskin trousers, shoes, a Scotch cap, and a blanket which served during the day as a cloak, and at night as a covering. Their food was tolerably good, but their abode during night, in the damp casemates of the fort, seemed not to agree with them, and many were visibly in a diseased state of health. Nearly all were muscular, and some were really specimens of manly beauty. Not one of them knew his age. Their only mode of calculating is by certain important events, as by the death of a chieftain, or the various wars with the English. The superintendent, Mr. Walsh, a very obliging Irishman, had the kindness to cause them to perform some of their national dances, wild exercises which served the purpose of exciting their warlike spirit. The first dance they performed they called "Ukutenga." Six handsomely-built dancers advanced, whilst about thirty men closed in a circle around them, and, by their howlings and clapping of hands, formed as it were a musical accompaniment to this singular performance. The dancers sighed, groaned, hissed, and made the most extravagant grimaces and contortions, in order to arouse in themselves an artificial excitement. One, a lad twelve years of age, engaged so earnestly in the sports, that he perspired from his whole body. There is another dance, called "Tklombo," performed in the presence of diseased persons whilst the quack doctor practises his deceptive remedies; and a third, called "Umduta," which is only practised at weddings and other festive occasions. This last seemed to be the most characteristic. The semi-nude, slender men hopped, their arms clung together, in ranks of six, hissing with scorn, occasionally uttering a cry, then suddenly separating and marching one after the other in slow time, in a circle, uttering the most singular sounds. Now they bent forward the whole upper part of the body, and then back again, each of them making the same violent gestures as in the former dance, and pronouncing some words to excite their companions, such as, "Be active!" "Be alert!" until they all trembled and became fearfully and feverishly excited. The surrounding Caffres, who were at first mere spectators, by degrees were seized with this singular dancing mania, till at last the entire number, as if stung by a tarantula, lashed themselves into a wild and apparently ungovernable frenzy. The great difference in the colour of the skin of these Caffres was particularly striking, as they evidently belong to one and the same race. From the blackness of coal to bronze, all tints and shades were observed, and one of them, called "Ngduba" (Sea-shell), appeared to be even of a reddish yellow. He belonged to the tribe of the Fingoes, and said that both his parents were of the same colour.

The governor permitted five young Caffres to be engaged on board the _Novara_, with their own consent, as apprentices, and although they were prisoners sentenced for several years, yet the Government took every care to secure their welfare. An agreement was signed to provide that their return, should they desire it, might be facilitated in every possible way. Faithful subjects could not be cared for with more anxiety than were these legally-sentenced Caffre prisoners by the colonial Government. Two of them went one day on shore, during our stay at Auckland, in New Zealand, and never came back; the other three made the whole voyage with the _Novara_, and are now sailors on board the imperial yacht _Fancy_. They, of course, understood, at their embarkation, only their own singular mother-tongue; yet the chaplain of the expedition, the Rev. E. Marochini, after having made himself acquainted with their idiom, succeeded in instructing these black youths, by means of their own language, in the doctrines of Christianity, and, by degrees, imparted some knowledge of the Italian and German languages, the happy results of these endeavours being a complete vocabulary and a small catechism in the Caffre language, which the reverend gentlemen composed during the voyage; and such progress did his three pupils make, that, on our return to Trieste, they were so far prepared as to be fit for reception, by baptism, into the Christian community.

In the house of correction there were a number of female Caffres who had been made prisoners at the same time with their brothers and husbands, some belonging to the family of chiefs. One, the sister of the chieftain Sandilli, was a handsome, tall and slender woman, with mild features and piercing small black eyes; another, by the name of Mnovenkeli, the sister of the chieftain Mkoseni, was an imposing and earnest-looking figure. Several of these women bore a long stripe tattooed on their breasts as an ornament. Several were deficient of a little finger of the left hand: this mutilation is the effect of superstition, as it often occurs that, in case of the severe illness of the child, the distressed mother causes a finger of her offspring to be cut off and sacrificed to the evil spirit, in order that the rest of the body may be saved and permitted by the evil spirit to recover.

One of these young Caffre women had her child wrapped up in a piece of linen tied to her back, and endeavoured to lull it to sleep by continually moving the left elbow, by which the baby was kept in a swinging motion, and an effect was produced like that of a cradle. Various questions were put, through an interpreter, to several of these females, who, after their timidity was overcome, answered with great readiness. Polygamy is said to prevail amongst them. Many women have from ten to twelve children. The children are suckled sometimes from two to three years. A numerous progeny is the pride of a family. As a proof of the legitimacy of a child, there is said to exist a kind of milk trial. Notwithstanding considerable trouble in endeavouring to procure information, we were unable to obtain a very lucid idea of this singular experiment: it consists in the father giving the infant, in the bottom of his hand, directly after its birth, some cow's milk to drink, and if the child refuses the draught it is considered illegitimate. Caffre women very rarely salute their husbands with a kiss, except after a long separation, and even then only on the cheek--never on the lips.

In the ethnographical part a detailed description will be presented of this most peculiar race, of whom the Bushmen are evidently only a decrepid branch. Here it will suffice to observe that a girl, only sixteen years of age, was noticed, whose father was a degenerate Hottentot, and whose mother was a Bushwoman. The girl measured 4 feet 6 1/2 inches, and weighed 75lbs. Another Bushwoman, thirty years of age, measured 4 feet 9 inches. All the individuals we saw of this race were remarkable for their exceedingly small hands and feet.

One week of our stay at the Cape was devoted to an excursion into the interior. On the 1st October, early in the morning, we left Cape Town in a light two-wheeled vehicle, drawn by four horses--a turn-out which certainly seemed better suited for a drive in Hyde Park than a journey, however short, in South Africa: for who would suppose that the principal roads on the southernmost point of the most unknown quarter of the globe, are, in consequence of English civilization and the geognostic nature of the ground, in a better condition than most bye-roads in the civilized states of Europe? For a country where labour is so deficient and expensive, such enormous works could only be executed by means of compulsory labour: in this respect the high-roads and mountain passes of the Cape afford the most evident proofs of how much more beneficially and usefully convicts may be employed in colonial works than in allowing them to rot within prison walls, alike a burden to themselves and to society.

Only ten years ago the streets of Cape Town looked at least highly dangerous, and the steep rugged old roads, which sometimes run parallel with the new ones, evince very clearly the great difference between bygone days and the present, as regards the internal communications of the colony. The uncultivated state of the country formerly, which indeed, in some parts, continues even yet to exist, is the cause of the ancient custom having been retained of placing before every vehicle, however lightly laden, sixteen to twenty powerful oxen, even on perfectly level roads. All longer journeys into the interior are undertaken in heavy waggon-like vehicles, exclusively drawn by oxen. As a family is sometimes compelled to take up abode in such waggons for weeks together, they are completely covered and provided with all possible conveniences; indeed, it is a sort of locomotive house. The waggon, which much resembles the goods-trucks used on European railways, is at least 18 feet long, and the entire length of the set-out, including the oxen, embraces not less than from 120 to 180 feet. It may readily be imagined how such a custom impedes speedy intercourse, and how much more usefully a great part of the animal power might be employed. On the excursion from Cape Town to Stellenbosch, a small place only ten miles distant, we met more than 100 waggons, of which not one had less than ten, and many double that number of oxen, so that at least 1500 heads of cattle were employed in a work which might easily have been performed by a third part of the number.

The coachman was a Malay, and wore that singular screen-formed straw hat, which so peculiarly distinguishes the male population of his race. These men have the reputation of being particularly skilful drivers, and thus form a considerable portion of the coachmen of the place. The Malay driver had an assistant by his side, who seemed, however, chiefly to serve as ballast, in order that our two-wheeled vehicle might not lose its equilibrium; for the disconsolate condition of the horses rendered the fear of their running away quite superfluous. Our charioteer drove his horses, which now and then were rather restive, with so much adroitness, that we arrived as early as nine o'clock in that charming settlement Stellenbosch, which Wilkes, the American Commodore, even in 1839, designated as the loveliest and most beautiful in the whole colony. It has completely preserved the aspect of a little Dutch town; the streets are straight and wide, adorned with avenues of oaks, many centuries old; the houses are extremely tidy and clean, and are built in the genuine Dutch style. There is no trace of English influence perceptible. Its 4000 inhabitants mostly speak Dutch, and cultivate the vine, grain, and fruit. No country town seen in the whole course of our long voyage made a deeper impression, or left more pleasing recollections, than Stellenbosch. The occasion of our visit was certainly of an uncommonly cheerful and festive character. On the day of our arrival the Governor was about to review a corps of volunteers, raised in Cape Town and its neighbourhood, to supply the place of the regular troops about to be dispatched to the Indian battle-fields. Extraordinary enthusiasm and interest was manifested everywhere in the military movements. Thousands of visitors had assembled even from great distances to witness this novel national spectacle. The Governor had proclaimed the day as a general holiday; all shops were closed; the streets presented an extremely animated appearance, and in front of every house was a crowd. The Austrian Consul had been kind enough to favour us with a letter of introduction to one of the first families in the place; but, taking into consideration the general bustle and continual arrival of strangers, we were much afraid of being, at this moment, very unwelcome guests, as every nook and corner would already be occupied; for in this colony visitors do not come, as with us, for a short time, and without encumbrance, but with waggons, horses, servants, household and all, regularly to settle down for an indefinite period.

Our own party consisted of five persons provided with four horses, and we were now, for want of other lodgings, about to claim the hospitality of Mynheer Van Schultze. A pretty, youthful, rosy-cheeked lady, who appeared at the door, took--not without some embarrassment--our letter of introduction, and disappeared with it into the interior of the stately house. We were requested to enter, and were shown into a suite of very neat rooms, and were received, not merely with great politeness, but with the heartiest welcome.

At ten o'clock we drove out with our hospitable friend, Mynheer Van Schultze, to the review, which took place on the common in the neighbourhood of the village. The number of spectators was probably twenty times greater than that of the volunteers; they had surrounded the ground with a wall of carriages, on the tops of which women and children were grouped in every picturesque attitude. The rifle volunteers marched, with the Governor, Sir George Grey, at their head, and preceded by a band, to the ground. There might have been about 300 cavalry and 200 infantry, with several pieces of artillery. They all looked very well; their uniform was plain and remarkably suitable for the purpose, consisting of tunics and trousers of black cloth with metal buttons, and a common cap with a silver ornament. They went through the usual man[oe]uvres, whilst a good deal of gunpowder was expended. The evolutions of the cavalry were executed with wonderful precision, a result due chiefly to the circumstance that, at the Cape, every inhabitant is a good equestrian, and is trained from childhood to manage a horse.

The review finished, a breakfast was served at the Drosdy, or Municipality, on long tables, in a magnificent avenue of oak trees; nearly 600 volunteers and many other guests sat down, whilst in the back-ground a large number of ladies and gentlemen were present as spectators. The presence of some members of the Novara Expedition at the festival led the Burgomaster, after the toast of the Queen was given, to propose the health of the Emperor of Austria, prefacing it with various laudatory remarks on the Expedition. The toast was most heartily received, the whole company raising their glasses, whilst the band performed the Austrian national anthem. The officer to whose lot it fell to return thanks, said:--"That he felt deeply gratified with the honour done to his country and nation by the enthusiasm with which the health of his sovereign had been received by so distinguished an assembly, and that he could not forbear expressing his admiration and delight in observing the prosperous condition of this fine country, which, like all others where the Anglo-Saxon race was predominant, was blessed with freedom, with the spirit of progress, and the blessings of Christianity;" and he concluded by proposing "Old England for ever."

On the day after the review the journey was pursued early in the morning to the village of Paarl (Pearl), about four hours distant. We had come as strangers to the hospitable Stellenbosch, and left as old friends, the entire family accompanying us to the carriage, and the worthy old mother of our amiable host, a thoroughly genuine Dutch matron, was visibly touched on taking leave of those whom, in all probability, she would never see more.

On the route to Paarl several immensely large ant-hills were met with, some of which measured from two to two-and-a-half feet in diameter, by about three feet high. The insects were partly black and partly of a greyish-brown colour, and must be very troublesome to the farmers.

Paarl, an extremely neat village, consists of a single long street, and contains nearly 4000 inhabitants, chiefly occupied in the growth of the vine. They are the descendants of those French Protestants who, at the close of the 17th century, left their native country in consequence of religious persecution. All the detached farm-yards were extremely neat, and bore evidence of the wealth of their owners. Nothing reminds one of Africa and the neighbourhood of Hottentots, Bushmen, or Caffres. The landscape becomes grander the more the mountains, 4000 to 5000 feet high, are approached. Among them lies the little town of Wellington, charmingly situated; though but a few years in existence, and numbering only 2000 inhabitants, it has already a joint-stock bank with a capital of £45,000, several schools, and some neat places of worship. While taking an evening stroll, we passed a well-lighted Reformed Dutch Church, from the interior of which the devotional tones of a pious Christian congregation floating through the night air, died away among the mountains.

Singular to say, the small, and, one would think, essentially prosaic and practical little town of Wellington boasts a quack doctor, named Brabna, whom the common people, far and near, come to consult, more, one would imagine, to be relieved of their money than their ailments.

The route to Worcester, whither we set out the following morning, leads at first through the wide, highly-cultivated Waggonmakers' Valley, adorned with numbers of rich farm-steads (so named from a number of artisans of this handicraft having settled here in former times), after which it passes over the difficult pass called Paine's Kloef, 4000 feet high, which frequently recalled the well-known road over the Sömmering Alp, or that at Optschina. This mountain-pass, first completed in 1853, by the engineer, Mr. Paine, greatly facilitates the traffic between Cape Town and this fertile district, which previously was quite inaccessible, and whose immense natural resources are only now beginning to be developed.

When we reached the highest point of the pass we found a strong south-east wind blowing. The thermometer marked 55° F., and when plunged in a spring that issued from the mountain close at hand, 48°. South-east winds are especially prevalent here, particularly in summer, when they frequently cause serious damage; hence all the upper branches of the trees incline to the north-west.

We now came to the finest bridge in the country, named Darling Bridge, after a late governor, which is thrown across the broad stream called by the Dutch, Breede River, and by the English, Broad River, a frequent source of error. The English colonists are bent upon driving out the Dutch names of rivers and localities, and supplying them with new names of English origin. The Dutch, however, hold on obstinately to the names they have been accustomed to, and continue to use the ancient nomenclature.

In the neighbourhood of Darling Bridge is a farm where the traveller can be comfortably accommodated, and from which, being a post-station, letters can be forwarded to all parts of the country. It has regular communication with the rest of the colony three times a week. The vehicle, however, in which the letters and packets are forwarded, in consequence of the wretched roads in the interior, and with the view of expediting the transmission of mail matter, is simply a light, open, eminently uncomfortable, two-wheel waggon, in which but one passenger can be taken each trip. Day and night, up hill and down dale, it continues its journey, changing driver and horses every two hours, only the unfortunate passenger being condemned to remain glued to the jolting uncomfortable car, until he has attained the end of his journey. We were told of an English captain, who once travelled on urgent business 400 miles in fifty hours in this fashion, and arrived at his destination in such a pitiable plight, that he had to be lifted from the car and put to bed forthwith, which he kept for several weeks, before he was able to get about again. Unfortunately, we were not told whether this unlucky passenger returned to Cape Town by a similar conveyance.