Читать книгу Narrative of the Circumnavigation of the Globe by the Austrian Frigate Novara (Vol. 1-3) - Karl von Scherzer - Страница 17

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 18s. per 100 lbs., or about 2d. 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 6½ 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 manœuvres, 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.

RIFLE VOLUNTEER FÊTE AT STELLENBOSCH.

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.

PAINE'S KLOEF AS IT WAS.

PAINE'S KLOEF AS IT IS.

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.

In the dining-room of the farm we made acquaintance with several families from Graaf Reinet, in the north of the colony, who were en route for Cape Town, and had been already three weeks on the road, during which they must have passed every night in their unwieldy waggon, or under tents. There was also among the assembled travellers a Quaker Missionary, of Worcester, who was on his way to the opening of the Spiritual Synod at Cape Town, and who was so kind as to furnish us, on the spot, with some introductions to his friends in Worcester, a lovely little town, which we reached towards the evening. There are places which charm at the first glance, just as there are many men who take us by storm as it were. Worcester is one of these; so neat, so clean, with a pretty garden in front of each little house, every wall of which was entwined with roses, and in the back-ground all around, bare, but picturesque groups of lofty hills of a blueish-grey tint, which imparted to the entire landscape a peculiar and almost magical colouring. Worcester, a creation of yesterday, has about 4500 inhabitants, chiefly employed in vine growing and sheep pasture. There are some of the peasantry here who own flocks of 3000 to 4000 sheep! The rich vegetation of the valley has an eminently northern character. Alongside of oaks, pines, poplars, willows, will appear a tree of Australian origin, of the order of Myrtaceæ, the blue gum-tree (Eucalyptus Globulus), which, on account of its rapid growth, is planted before each door for the purpose of shade. One of these trees was shown to us of but four years' growth, the stem of which was already twenty feet high! The leaves have a highly aromatic odour, and must be especially suitable for the extraction of oil, as the rind is full of camphor; as yet, however, the tree is not used by the colonists for any other purpose than to supply shade to their gardens.

It is surprising what comfort the traveller encounters among these new settlements, from which, even already, all traces have been eradicated of the difficulties that originally beset the colonist; so that at every turn one meets with evidences of the highest European civilization. Whenever, indeed, he finds himself at a settlement, he will remark that it is not merely provided with the necessaries of life, or the mere products of the soil, but that it sparkles with numerous objects of luxury and refined taste; such as handsome furniture, pianos, and other musical instruments, engravings, English classics, besides telescopes, barometers, thermometers, and other similar evidences of high cultivation. At the hotel at Worcester, we met with a degree of comfort such as is found only in the chief cities of Europe. Several of the inhabitants, among others Dr. Esselin, a missionary of the Moravian brotherhood, and Dr. Meynard, of the Episcopal Church, laid us under particular obligations by their participation in the objects of our inquiry. The latter gentleman sought us out at our hotel, and, after a hearty welcome, remarked that he possessed, in his collection, several highly interesting petrifactions from Beaufort, about 400 miles north-west of Worcester. We satisfied ourselves, however, by a visit which we paid to Dr. Meynard at his own house, that his collection was far from possessing the interest he claimed for it. In all probability, however, judging by what we heard, Beaufort must be a classic soil for the palæontologist, as there are numberless fossils in that district, especially of reptiles. In like manner, the stalactite grottoes, known as "The Congo Caves," 300 miles from Worcester, have never yet been scientifically examined or described.

Dr. Esselin, who is a native of Hesse, was so kind as to accompany the naturalists of the Novara Expedition to the hot springs of Brand Vley the following morning. The road thither, which lies through a valley partly overflowed towards the end of the rainy season, was exceedingly trying to the horses, and, but for the kind offices of Dr. Esselin, who was acquainted with the difficulties of the route, and undertook the guidance of the waggon through the constantly recurring swamps and morasses, we should in all probability have had to retrace our steps halfway, or even have stuck fast, which would have been a still more serious matter. Only after unspeakable exertions did we succeed in threading the valley of Worcester as far as the shores of Breede (or Broad) River. Several times we were compelled, in order to lighten the waggon, to dismount, and wade up to our knees in water. Once the quag was so deep, that to avoid sinking in it we had to be carried, one by one, on the back of our Malay driver.

CROSSING THE BREEDE RIVER.

On the bank is the cottage, (boeren plaats), of a peasant who avails himself of his proximity to convert the stream into a source of profit, by ferrying travellers, who have occasion to pass here during the floods, across the river in a small skiff, the waggon and horses being swum across afterwards. In summer, on the contrary, the stream is readily forded on horseback, and is indeed dry at several points. At the period of our visit (in October, 1857), towards the end of the rainy season, this Breede River was about 150 feet wide, and about 28 feet deep, and we accordingly found ourselves compelled to call in the assistance of the ferryman. Under his superintendence the work was gone about quite systematically. First of all the four horses were swum across, by a halter round the neck; after which the luggage was transported to the opposite bank in a small boat. Last of all came the waggon, with the travellers therein. It was thought that the upper portion of the waggon might be towed across, swimming on the surface of the water, by fastening an empty water-tight cask between the wheels; the cask, however, proved unequal to the weight. As the waggon left the shore it sank deeper and deeper in the water, till about mid-current it fairly capsized, hardly a spoke of the left wheel reaching the opposite bank.

Amidst our perplexities, a violent shower of rain came on, making the waggon leak in every corner, just as we succeeded, after great trouble, in getting it to land, and were busy repairing it. Fortunately, every requisite precaution had been taken to remedy any such disaster occurring at this dangerous spot; so that the whole affair, though sufficiently uncomfortable at the time, left only the recollection of a pleasant adventure.

HOT SPRINGS OF BRAND VLEY.

At last, towards noon, we reached the hot springs of Brand Vley, or Brand Valley. This hot spring, which is quite exposed, like a pond or tank, and even at the least accessible points is adorned with rich vegetation, is about 100 feet in circumference, and is of a triangular shape, rounded off at the corners. Among bananas, ferns, and cacti of all sorts, spring up numerous specimens of Calla Ethioptica, silver poplars, pines, reeds, and canes, in wild profusion. Many fruits even, such as pine-apples, mangoes, rose apples, &c., which as a rule do not flourish at this elevation, grew all round the edges of the basin. Some twigs of a rose tree, which, growing luxuriantly in the warmth and moisture, spread across the spring, like a green canopy, must have been a second growth of the same year. We in fact enjoyed the unusual spectacle of seeing one portion of the tree in the flush of its utmost beauty, while the upper and more distant branches had not as yet put forth their leaves. The water at the hottest point reached 145° F., while the temperature of the air was 75° F. It is remarkably clear, has not the slightest taste, and in many particulars greatly resembles the springs of Wildbad Gastein. The number of patients during the season (October to April) does not exceed from 100 to 150, the waters being chiefly used in chronic maladies, rheumatic affections, scrofula, erysipelas, cutaneous eruptions, and similar complaints. Immediately adjoining is a small brook, with a temperature of 68° F., which rises at the foot of a neighbouring eminence, and has water enough during the entire year to keep a mill in constant work.

The only animal inhabiting the spring is the larva of a Tipularia, which frequents one quarter of the pool where the temperature of the water does not exceed 113°.

On the 14th of August, 1857, two shocks of an earthquake were felt in rapid succession in Brand Valley, of such violence as to arouse the inhabitants out of their sleep, when several of the smaller houses were found to have rents and fissures in their walls. The proprietor of the bath alleged that the shocks in Brand Valley were much more severe than at Worcester, although that town is but six miles distant.

At Brand Valley we took leave of our hospitable companion, Dr. Esselin, who presented us with several books on leaving, and set out on an excursion to the mission of the Moravian Brethren in Genaaden Dal, in the district of Caledon. En route we encountered several families, who came from far in the interior of Cape Colony, driving before them enormous herds of oxen, some of which were yoked to the waggons that formed the caravan, these being fitted up something like dwelling-houses on wheels. As night fell, a halt would be called at some selected spot, when the draught oxen were unharnessed, a fire lit in the open air, and the evening repast prepared. Horses are very rarely used on long journeys, although these are in consequence seriously lengthened thereby, especially as it is the custom all over the country to unyoke every two or three hours, so as to allow the beasts to enjoy a roll on the ground, if only for a few minutes at a time.

As neither of our drivers was acquainted with the road we were now to pursue, we hired a black guide from Brand Valley, who accompanied us on horseback as far as the next farm-house, where we were to pass the night. Just as one requires a pilot to take a ship into an insecure or unknown harbour, so we now had to avail ourselves of the services of this limber young negro, who was an excellent rider, in piloting us through the endless morasses and pools of water. Renden was the name of the solitary farm (the property of Mr. Pretorius, a landed proprietor, to whom we had letters of introduction), where we were to pass the night.

As we approached, we were saluted with the loud barking of a hound that had been unchained, and who seemed ready to rush upon his unexpected prey, so that we hardly dared to advance one step. At last a man made his appearance at the door of the house, with a lantern in his hand, speedily followed by the whole family, anxious to learn who could be in the neighbourhood at so late an hour. We handed him the letter, which we begged him to read, and requested to know whether we could be received for the night. We were at once admitted, and speedily found a most cordial welcome. We were shown into apartments very plainly furnished, but neat, and scrupulously clean, after which we were invited to join the household at supper. It was a very numerous family. The father and mother, genuine Dutch figures, sat at the head of a long table; next to whom sat the son-in-law, who had married the eldest daughter, and then commingled with each other, the sons and daughters that were as yet unmarried. They all seemed hearty and healthy, and their indurated hands were the best diploma of their industry. The youngest son said a short prayer; after which venison, potatoes, mutton, vegetables, bread, butter, and cheese were set down in huge dishes, besides which two bottles of Cape wine, of their own manufacture, went the round of the table. Although this place had been only settled four years previously, an immense deal had been already accomplished by this stirring, cheerful family to make the soil thoroughly productive, and render the house habitable. Even a small garden had been laid out in front of the dwelling-house.

The chief article of cultivation in the valley is the grape, for wine manufacture, which must in this place return a very handsome profit.

From Renden to Genaaden Dal is a four-hours' journey. The road passes by Donker's Hoek, a tolerably high mountain, to ascend the summit of which cost our horses some strenuous exertion, although we marched a considerable distance on foot. A wide belt of sandstone formation presented a marvellous display of flowers, and gave us in little an idea of the South African Karroos, a series of terraced clay-patches, estimated at from 3000 to 4000 feet high, which, hard and steppe-like in the dry season, are speedily transformed in the rainy season into smiling, flower-bespangled plains, quite sponge-like under foot, and rich in alkaline products.52 We advanced some six hours before reaching another farm-house. This was known as Kleene Islea Plaats (Little Island Farm), near which flows the Zonderend River (River Without End), the property of a kind and hospitable family of French extraction, whose parents emigrated hither from France during the revolution in 1793. As it was Sunday, the servants had gone to church, so they could only offer us cold mutton, syrup, butter, and bread. Before and after our repast, the devout old lady of the house put up a short petition.

Here, too, we remarked that those born in the country of European parents are called Africans: only the English form an exception to this rule, and remain with persistent patriotic obstinacy, "Englishmen."

The journey from Kleene Islea Plaats to Genaaden Dal is extremely picturesque. One first catches sight of this retired Moravian settlement only when actually entering the place itself, embowered as it is among lofty trees. What a surprise, when, still fancying one's self at a considerable distance from the village, on reaching the end of a beautiful valley at the entrance to Bavian's Kloef, one sweeps by a circuit into the very heart of the settlement. We alighted at what is called "The Lodgment," a house set apart for visitors, and conducted by a brother, in conformity with the laws of the community.

The dwellings of the Hottentots lie scattered among the rising grounds in the neighbourhood, and with their poverty-stricken aspect impart a somewhat melancholy impression. These are built of loam, low in the roof, as though intended for a stunted race of men, and rarely have windows, so that the door is, generally speaking, the largest aperture in the entire building. Our Malay driver laughed at them, and called them oete kripp (oxen stalls).

HOTTENTOT HUTS AT GENAADENDAL.

There seem to be three distinct kinds of these dwellings, which apparently indicate so many grades of social and pecuniary consideration among the resident Hottentot families. The first sort, which consists simply of a single apartment, serving at once for kitchen, work-shop, and sleeping place, and receiving air and light through a narrow, low-pitched door-way, is that most usually met with, and may not unaptly be compared to a bee-hive. The next class is of a better description, and may at once and definitely be distinguished from the first-mentioned, in so far as it possesses a second room, which, if dark and windowless, is at any rate partitioned off, and serves as a sleeping apartment. Finally, the third kind, which can only be said to be the least poor-looking, consists of one large, almost empty chamber, for occupation during the day, with wings on either side, one of which is used as a kitchen, the other as a bed-room. The wretched ventilation, and damp, moist location of these habitations, combined with the bad quality of food, may be regarded as the main causes of the unfavourable state of health of the coloured portion of the inhabitants of Genaaden Dal, among whom, especially as regards the female portion, pulmonary complaints are rife.

We were provided with letters of introduction to the Superintendent of the Community, Dr. Köbling, as also to the Physician and Pharmaceutist, Dr. Roser, a Würtemberger by birth, and experienced a most cordial reception. We availed ourselves of the last hours of declining day to make an excursion to the hills, in the country immediately adjacent, so as to command at a glance the entire colony. The principal buildings, the Church, the school, the workshops, the warehouses, and the dwellings of the missionaries, are assembled in a quadrangular open place, to which a number of lofty, massive, leafy, venerable oaks impart a sombre, but poetical, appearance, eminently characteristic of the community. All the buildings are of a uniform dingy-grey tint. Close in the rear of these buildings is a large garden, which reaches as far as what is called "Bavian's Kloef" (defile), in which, even at present, apes, antelopes, and zebras, abound. Near the kitchen-garden is the cemetery of the community, which seems to be used by meditative brethren as a favourite resort and promenade.

This settlement, situated at the entrance of a mountain defile, at the foot of an immense sandstone range, of from 3000 to 4000 feet high, was founded in the year 1787, by a brother of the persuasion, named George Schmidt, from Moravia, who settled fifty-five miles east of Cape Town, near Sargent's River, with a number of Hottentots, whom he began to convert to Christianity, and called the station "Bavian's Kloef." From the year 1806, the settlement assumed the beautiful name of "Genaaden Dal" (Vale of Benevolence), so exquisitely correspondent with the benevolent exertions of the brotherhood. It at present numbers 3100 souls, mostly a race crossed between Hottentots and Mozambique negroes, of the latter of whom a considerable number have settled here since the Slave Emancipation Act of 1826. The settlers are partly proprietors of the land, partly artisans, cutlers, waggon-makers, tanners, carpenters, millers, &c. In the workshops the most exemplary cleanliness and neatness are imperatively insisted on. At the Great Exhibition, held in London in 1851, the wood-work of the Hottentot carpenters of Genaaden Dal received "Honourable Mention," and this elegant testimonial in recognition of their efforts now hangs, framed and glazed, in the library hall of the community. It somewhat surprised us that the cutlers did not receive, in their section, a similar distinction, since, in that department of industry, the Hottentots produce articles, which, so far as concerns quality and cheapness, are really astounding. The workpeople receive a fixed weekly payment, which they may expend as they please. The net proceeds, however, of the various articles manufactured belong to the community, and are expended in defraying the expenses of, and supporting, the mission. The inhabitants of Genaaden Dal are closely connected, by religious ties, with the community; and only those who profess the principles of the Moravian brotherhood are permitted to settle among them.

The field-labourers, who hire themselves out to labour elsewhere, are frequently absent from the settlement for months at a time, and return to Genaaden Dal immediately after the completion of seed-time or harvest. It is significant that these labourers regard this period of emancipation, as a sort of relaxation from the severe discipline and rules to which they are subjected in the religious community.

The principal articles of food of the inhabitants consist of maize, beans, pumpkins, rice, fruits, tea, coffee, and occasionally mutton. Wine is strictly prohibited throughout the settlement, and when a member of the Novara Expedition, never imagining that this interdict extended to strangers as well, desired the attendant at the house we were occupying to fetch a bottle of sherry, that individual regarded him with as horror-stricken an air as though he had asked him to participate in some crime.

Although the first settlers in Genaaden Dal were pure Hottentots, not more than five or six at present speak the idiom of their fathers, the rest knowing only the Dutch tongue. The Superintendent had the kindness to allow an old blind man, of the name of Sebastian Hendrik, to be presented to us, born in the colony in 1775, of Hottentot parents, "een opregt Hottentot" (an out-and-out Hottentot), as he called himself, and who still could speak a number of phrases in his mother tongue, with its extraordinary "clicking" sounds; but, on the other hand, no longer had the slightest recollection of the customs, usages, or proverbs of that nation to which he belonged by birth. In the library of the community, where this conversation took place, there were also shown to us numerous sketches by Hottentot and Caffre lads, which gave great hope of future excellence. It is an especially gratifying indication of intellectual progress, that several works of natural history are to be found on the shelves of the library.

CHURCH AND MISSION HOUSES OF THE MORAVIAN SETTLEMENT AT GENAADENDAL.

We also found time to listen to the singing in the church, quite a plain wooden building, erected in 1800, with white-washed walls, a spacious gallery, and an elegant organ, the gift of a benevolent lady of Hamburg, who spent some months of the year 1843 at Cape Town in search of health, and took an opportunity of visiting the Moravian brethren at Genaaden Dal. One of the missionaries sat in the middle of the chapel at a table covered with green cloth, and gave out, verse by verse, a hymn in the Dutch language, which was afterwards sung, with accompaniment by the organ, by the entire community assemble in the edifice. The men and women sat apart from each other, on smooth wooden benches, the former on the left, the latter on the right of the officiating minister. The chapel was only illuminated with a few tallow candles; but the devotional feeling of the community seemed to gain by this simple unostentatious ritual, and the mysterious solemn obscurity of their place of congregational worship.

Next morning, 12th October, some of the brethren paid us the attention of examining in our presence the scholars of the Seminary for Teachers, so that we might personally satisfy ourselves of their progress in the various branches of education. This academy for the education of suitable instructors, was originally established in 1838, through the generous assistance of a Saxon nobleman, Count Schönburg, and year by year since, has been so liberally assisted by that benevolent nobleman, that its future prosperity seems fairly established. At present there are in the seminary 14 pupils (Hottentots, Caffres, and half-breeds). Since the year of its establishment, 50 young persons in all have been sent out hence; of whom, however, only one half proved to be available for the duties of teachers. Up to the year 1856, twenty-two pupils were already at work in the service of the community, fourteen had been rejected as unsuitable, and fourteen were still in the institute. They entered at from ten to fifteen years of age, remained within its walls six years for instruction, when they were clothed and maintained, and thereafter, without further obligations to the society which had educated them, were dispatched into the most remote districts of the colony as teachers and apostles of Christianity. The examination of the pupils of the seminary took place at the Library Hall, which boasts a portrait of a highly meritorious brother, the venerable C. J. Latrobe, who, in the year 1815–16, visited South Africa as a missionary, and, two years later published, in London, his very remarkable book of travels. The examination commenced with a performance on the piano by a Mestizo lad of about sixteen, son of a Mulatto father by a Hottentot mother. This youth displayed a decided talent for music, coupled with truly admirable execution; and besides the piano, played the organ, the violin, and the violoncello. Next, a variety of questions in geography and history were put to the pupils present. These consisted chiefly of easy intelligible questions, principally relating to England. Those examined were surprisingly well acquainted with the history of Liverpool, London, Manchester, Dublin, &c., and could enumerate many particulars about the Thames and Westminster Abbey. What proved most disagreeable, was the singular custom that prevailed, of all the pupils answering at once, each hoping, by out-clamouring his fellow, to prove his intimate acquaintance with the subject under discussion. The examiner, for example, put a question to a scholar, whereupon all the pupils yelled out the reply in chorus. But it was, on the whole, astonishing, and indeed eminently suggestive, to hear Hottentots, Caffres, and negroes, at the extreme southernmost part of Africa, speaking of England, and her influence over the destinies of humanity, as a commercial, maritime, and industrial power. Already the youth of the settlement are thoroughly interpenetrated with esteem and affection for the mother country and its mighty people. As a finale, the assembled pupils sang a Dutch Bergmann's Gruss, "The Miner's Welcome," and one of Mendelssohn's delightful songs.

Before we quitted Genaaden Dal we breakfasted with the missionaries. They are all married, and manage their households in common, and accordingly partake of their various meals together, each with his family, all seated at one table, one of their wives attending to change dishes and wait at the table. Nowhere are any particular qualifications to be remarked, and it is difficult to conceive more thorough harmony than exists among the unpretending, yet zealously religious missionaries of Genaaden Dal.

As we were preparing for our departure, Dr. Roser unexpectedly packed up a number of objects of natural history and scientific interest, which he kindly presented to the Imperial expedition as a souvenir of Genaaden Dal. Besides these, there were also given to us two valuable little books—one a small work upon the Nicobar Islands, written about the beginning of this century by a Moravian brother of the name of Gottfried Hensel; the other a treatise composed by the excellent Dr. Roser himself, upon the pharmaceutics and natural history of Genaaden Dal. With respect to the various substances chewed as stimulants, or intoxicants, by the Hottentots, in order to deprive themselves of sensation, or rouse themselves to a state of high excitability, we found the following particulars in this interesting essay. That most in use is composed of the bruised leaves of the "Leonotis Leonurus." This plant, which grows in great quantity in and beyond the Genaaden Dal, is called by the natives "Dagga," as also frequently, "Tacha or Takka," and this variation in pronunciation is very probably the reason that we find in Berghaus's "Völker des Erdballs" (Races of the Globe), this celebrated smoke-weed, marked as "Donha." What the same author says of certain stimulating properties of the plant may well be considered as an exaggeration. It is curious how the properties of this plant seem to be inextricably mingled with the destinies of the Hottentots. In many places it has been extirpated, in order more readily to wean the aborigines from the practice of chewing: at other places again, "Leonotis Leonurus" is expressly planted in order to attract the Hottentots, and so supply any deficiency in hands for labour, reckless of the moral consequences. Another narcotic, and the most widely prevalent, is the wild hemp (Canabis Sativa), the dried leaves of which are smoked by the natives. Dr. Juritz, one of the most respectable apothecaries in Cape Town, assured us he had been compelled, during a previous residence at Stellenbosch, where he was engaged in his business, to keep always on hand in his store a large quantity of wild hemp for sale to the natives.

The poison with which the Bushmen tip their arrows, rendering them such dangerous and terrible weapons, is extracted from the "Cestrum venenatum."53

Among the animal products of Genaaden Dal of importance in a scientific point of view is Hyrazeuma, a substance obtained from the urine of the Cape Marmot (Hyrax Capensis). It is of a dark-brown colour, somewhat tenacious, and nearly hard, of a very penetrating odour, and is found in cavities resembling a molehill. This article is made use of with much effect in hysterical complaints by the Hottentots. Dr. Roser is of opinion, that this Cape Marmot is in all probability the same animal which Martin Luther, in Leviticus, c. xi, v. 5, and Proverbs, c. xxx, v. 26, has translated by the word "kaninchen" (conies).

On our way from Genaaden Dal to Caledon, to which there is an excellent level road, we perceived a large number of silver poplars, with pendent nests of finches. On a single tree we counted more than forty such pendent nests, constructed in a very singular manner.

Caledon is a cheerful, ambitious little town, important as the centre of the wool trade, as also for the thermal springs in the neighbourhood. These, situated about two English miles outside the town, on a rising ground, in a romantic and highly attractive neighbourhood, are impregnated with iron, and of a considerable temperature. Even in the bath-house, distant about a mile from the source of the spring, a thermometer held in a stone trough, filled to overflowing, marked from 100°·4 to 104° Fahr. At their respective sources the one spring has a temperature of 116°·6 Fahr. and the other 114°·8 Fahr. The colour of the water is ochre yellow. From the terrace of the bath-house a rather extensive landscape opens to the view, backed by a splendid range of mountains, including the Tower of Babel, as the inhabitants have christened the highest peak in this vicinity.

Caledon has 600 inhabitants. About twenty years ago there were not more than ten bales of wool grown in the entire district. At present about 800,000 lbs. are shipped annually. One Merino sheep supplies from 1 lb. to 1½ lb. of wool, worth from 1s. 2d. to 1s. 4d. sterling per pound. Besides Caledon, the principal wool districts of Cape Colony are Swellendam, Beaufort, and Graaf-Reinet. All these districts united produce yearly about 15,000,000 lbs. of wool, worth about £1,000,000 sterling. Within two years the wool produce of the entire colony has increased 30 per cent., and during last year a strenuous and very costly experiment has been made to introduce the Angora breed, with the intention of increasing the wool-producing powers of the less fleecy race by a judicious cross with the native species.

The road to Somerset-West leads over the high and picturesque Hauw-Hoek Pass and Sir Lowry's Pass; the latter is very steep, and parts of it are hardly, if at all, inferior in extent and variety of landscape to those presented by the Styrian Alps. At the culminating point of the latter pass, which surpasses even Paine's Kloef in height and width, one stands as upon the ruins of a lofty tower, from which the eye can range at will over the entire country beneath. South-east and eastward towers the Hauw-Hoek Pass, while southwards and westwards the charming Lowry's Vale, and far in the distance the smiling settlement of Somerset-West come into view, while all around, farther than the eye can reach, are luxuriant pasturages, that only wait to be settled and cultivated in order to produce magnificent returns.

Somerset-West, a prettily-built, and very charmingly situated settlement, already supports so considerable a traffic with the capital that a daily omnibus has proved a remunerative speculation to the promoters.

We now proceeded to Zandvliet, the property of one of the oldest and most highly considered families in the colony, named Cloete, where we spent the night. With these genial kindly people we soon felt ourselves as entirely at home as if with our own families; we sang, laughed, and frolicked, till far into the night.

The following morning we drove to a hill, about a mile and a half distant from Zandvliet, known as Macassar Downs, on which is the spot of interment, (Krammat or Brammat), of a Malay prophet.

TOMB OF A MALAY PROPHET AT ZANDVLIET.

This individual, so honoured in death, was, if we are to believe the Malays, a direct descendant of Mahomet, named Sheikh Joseph, who, expelled from Batavia by the Dutch Government for political reasons, settled in the colony about a century and a half ago, and died and was buried in the neighbourhood of Zandvliet. An especial deputation came over from Malacca to Cape Colony to fetch away the corpse of the defunct prophet, for conveyance to the land of his birth; but at the disinterment it happened that the little finger of the prophet, in spite of the most persevering research, could nowhere be found. This circumstance appeared to those simple believers sufficient reason for erecting a monument over the spot in which the finger of a Malay prophet lay hid from view. Even to this day the Malays from time to time perform a pilgrimage to the Colony and celebrate their religious ceremonies at the Mausoleum. Four followers of the prophet are buried with him, two of them Mahometan priests, who are regarded with much veneration by the Malays. An extensive flight of stone steps leads to the tomb, the exterior of which is very insignificant, and, but for a small pointed turret, hardly differs from an ordinary dwelling-house. On entering, a low-roofed vault is visible, a sort of front outhouse, which rather disfigures the façade, and much more resembles a cellar than the portal of a Mausoleum. Above the arch of this vault an Arabic inscription has been engraved with a stylus; but this is so painted over in brick colour that it has already become almost illegible. Judging by the few words that have been deciphered, it seems to consist of the first propositions of the Koran.

INTERIOR OF THE MAUSOLEUM.

The inner room, provided on two sides with modern glazed windows at irregular intervals, is about the size of an ordinary room of 12 feet long, 9 wide, and 7 high. In the middle rises the monument, to which access is had by some more brick steps. Immense quantities of unwashed white linen cloth are heaped upon it, which seem occasionally sprinkled with a brown odoriferous liquid (dupa). As at the head of Sheikh Joseph, so at his feet several figures, resembling those in enamel used to ornament tarts, are drawn upon the linen cloth with the overflowings of the unguent. These have undoubtedly been formed accidentally, and it appears wrong and unfair to attribute to them any more recondite significance. The monument rests upon four wooden pillars, with pyramidal pinnacles or ornaments, and is richly decorated with fine white muslin, which gives to the whole very much the appearance of an old-fashioned English "fourposter," with its costly drapery and curtains. While the curtains are spread out all around, several small green and white bannerets stand at the upper and lower end of the sarcophagus. The whole interior is, as it were, impregnated with the incense which devout Malay pilgrims from time to time burn here, especially after the forty days' fast (Ramadan), or leave behind upon the steps of the tomb in flasks or in paper-boxes. On such occasions, they always bring wax-candles and linen cloth as an offering, with the latter of which they deck the tomb afresh, so that a perfect mountain of white linen rises above the stone floor. During their devotions they unceasingly kiss this white mass of stuff, and as they are continually chewing tobacco, this filthy habit produces disgustingly loathsome stains.

On the same hill which boasts the tomb of Sheikh Joseph, there are also, in ground that is common property, nine other graves of eminent Malays, enclosed with carefully-selected stones, and likewise covered over with large broad strips of bleached linen cloth, protected by stones from any injury by weather or violence. At the head and foot of each individual interred, is a single stone of larger size. Formerly the black inhabitants of the neighbourhood made use of this store of linen cloth to make shirts for themselves, without further thought upon the propriety of the matter. Latterly, however, a shrewd Malay priest spread a report that one of these ebony linen stealers had lost all the fingers off one hand, since which the graves of those departed worthies remain inviolate and unprofaned.

At the foot of the hill are some small half-fallen-in buildings, near a large hall, painted white, red, and yellow, consisting of a small apartment and a kitchen, the whole in a most dirty, neglected, and desolate condition. At this point the Moslems must have accomplished certain prayers, before they can climb the hill and proceed to visit the tomb. Over the door of this singular house of prayer some words are likewise engraved in the Arabic character, which, however, are now entirely illegible.

On quitting the Malay Krammat, we next undertook a tolerably difficult walk to the Downs or sand-dunes, which at this point extend along the entire coast line, on which the wax-berry shrub, as already mentioned, grows wild in vast quantities, and visibly prevents the further encroachments of the moving sand. The Eerst Rivier (First River) may be regarded as the limit of demarcation between the sand-dunes and the soil adapted for vegetation.

The same evening the naturalists of the Expedition left hospitable Zandvliet, though not till after they had been presented by Herr Cloete with a splendid collection of fruits indigenous to Port Natal. Having been everywhere received with distinction, and enjoyed every sort of assistance in our researches, we set out on our return so richly freighted with objects of natural history, that the waggon, as we drove through the wide streets of Cape Town, presented such a various and substantial assortment of each as spoke volumes for the success of our journey. Every available corner was called into requisition to dispose of our prizes—even between the open windows hung suspended the bottle-shaped nests of the finch, and the slender sticks that supported the tilt were entwined with gigantic festoons of flowers. In a word, the whole waggon, with its variegated contents, resembled a holiday-van on its return from a country excursion, so gaily and cheerfully was it decorated.

During our residence in the Cape colony, severe depression existed among the agricultural inhabitants of the Western and Eastern districts, in consequence of an epidemic which, within two years, had carried off 64,850 horses (draught horses, mares, and foals), of the value of £525,000 sterling.54 Many landowners in consequence entirely gave up rearing horses, and turned their attention almost exclusively to the breeding of sheep. The visitations of this malady are by no means of late introduction, but hitherto they had made their appearance at such long intervals, that but little attention was paid to them and people regarded their return without much alarm. This disease of the horse, usually endemic in Cape Colony, assumed every twenty years, owing to some inexplicable causes, an epidemic character, and on those occasions extended over an extensive area, as happened with extraordinary regularity in the years 1780, 1801, 1819, 1839, and 1854. Hitherto no further precaution was taken, than, so soon as the disease appeared, to drive the horses from the grass pastures to their stables or covered sheds, and there supply them with fodder, the night dew being considered a main cause of the complaint. A resident in Stellenbosch, indeed, maintained that the dew which was deposited during the continuance of the disease tasted quite bitter, and was of an unusual brownish tinge. Singular to say, not the slightest symptoms of illness manifested themselves in the swine, dogs, and birds of prey which devoured the carcases of horses that died of the disease, while the consumption, whether boiled or roasted, of mutton which was ever so slightly tainted with the mere germ of this malady, never failed to produce the most mischievous consequences on the human species. According to Dr. Livingstone the same malignant ulcerous imposthumes were produced, if even sound portions were used of the carcase of an animal that had died of this complaint. These observations, founded on innumerable examples, run counter to the opinion of the French physicians and physiologists, that the malignity of the poison in such cases becomes neutralized by the process of cooking. Considering the importance of the subject to a land-holding colony, it could hardly fail that numerous individuals should devote themselves to elucidating the causes of this devastating epidemic; but it must ever remain a striking and significant fact, illustrative of the high standard of cultivation in Cape Colony, that within a very few years 112 different authors published treatises respecting this complaint among the horses. The result of these numerous researches was, that the malady is epidemic, but not contagious; that horses driven into the stable before sunset, and not permitted to go out to pasture till the dew has evaporated off the grass, are as a rule exempted from attack; that those horses which are kept at night in open pounds, or in places where there are heaps of dung, take the disease in a milder form than if suffered to roam at large day and night; lastly, that horses for which no covered shelter can be provided, may with great advantage be sent to hilly localities and dry runs of land. The practical remedy which was most resorted to, consisted in immediate and prolonged bleeding, pushed to actual exhaustion of the animal, in the first stage of the malady, as also the exhibition of 1 drachm of tartar emetic and 2 drachms of calomel, or, at a later stage, of 30 grains of tartar emetic twice a day.

TSETSE FLY.

Another appalling scourge of the settlers in the south-west district of Cape Colony is a minute, almost imperceptible insect, of terrible omen, the tsetse-fly (Glossina morsitans), a puncture from which produces such terrible destruction among horses and cattle, that several runs of land are uninhabitable—nay, even the mere passing through districts which they frequent, proves fatal to the draught beasts of the caravans. This insect is principally encountered in copses and brushwood, very seldom in the open country, and is about the size of a common house fly, but with wings a little longer. In colour it resembles the honey bee. The tsetse is uncommonly active, and usually escapes all attempts to catch it with the hand; but in the cool of the morning or evening it is less active and quick in its movements. The poison which it carries is so powerful that the bite of three or four individuals is sufficient to kill the most powerful ox. Many animals, especially such as appear perfectly sound or in the best condition, die speedily after being bitten, but the majority are ill for an entire week, and usually become blind before death. One remarkable circumstance is that the bite of these insects is fatal to dogs, even when fed with milk, while calves and other young animals, so long as they are sucking, remain perfectly exempt from the malefic powers of the tsetse. It is especially noticed that the danger seems to be confined to domesticated animals, while such as are wild or only half reclaimed, such as buffaloes, zebras, jackals, oxen, horses, and wild dogs, have not the slightest occasion to dread this insect; nay more, it attacks man himself without the least ill consequences. The sensation which their bite produces on the hand, or other portion of the human frame, would be confounded by any one travelling in the tsetse district, with that of another minute and most troublesome, though by no means dangerous insect, the flea. Fortunately the tsetse-fly has an appointed circuit to range in, in the south-west of the Cape Colony, which it never changes or extends. The landowner may erect his cattle-pound on one side of the stream in perfect security, although the opposite bank may resound with the hum of swarms of these insects. When the natives, who are acquainted with the localities in which the tsetse-fly abides, are compelled, as they constantly are, to shift their ground, and, in changing their pastures, to transgress upon the district of the tsetse, they usually select the moonlight nights of winter, when the insect, during the quiet hours of the cold season, is not likely to molest their charge.

Many travellers whose draught oxen and horses have been killed by the ravages of this insect, are annually not merely frustrated in their journey, but, it appears, have their personal safety seriously imperilled by being deprived of all means of locomotion. Anderson, in his admirable work upon "Lake Ngami," relates that some twenty aborigines of the Griqua race, who had been elephant-hunting in the north-west of that lake, and were provided with three large waggons and numerous oxen and horses, found, on their return to their encampment, that they had lost the whole of their cattle-team by the bite of the tsetse. So, too, Dr. Livingstone, during a short journey over a district frequented by the tsetse, lost forty-three strong and useful oxen, although by dint of great vigilance scarcely twenty flies had been able to settle among the entire herd. We have dwelt at length on the description of the ravages caused by this so much dreaded insect, with the view of pointing out the numerous and amazing difficulties which present themselves to the traveller or settler in certain localities, and how often not only wild and rapacious animals, but even small, hardly perceptible insects endanger the life of the wanderer, and render large tracts of lands valueless for settlement.55

No stranger can well leave Cape Town without having visited Constantia, the chief seat of the wine cultivation of the country. Accordingly we had a day of exceedingly pleasant relaxation while visiting High Constantia. Mr. James Mosenthal, the very hospitable Austrian Consul, had carefully selected the most beautiful spot in the immediate vicinity of Cape Town, the charming residence of his friend Mynheer Van Reenen, at which to get up a splendid fête champêtre on an extensive scale, in honour of the visit of this the first man-of-war that had borne the flag of our country into these remote seas. The entire staff of our frigate was invited, and over a hundred guests, comprising the flower of the fair sex of Cape Town, took part in the festivities. Immense four-horse coaches conveyed the company in the forenoon to the hill of Constantia. The company wandered at leisure under the gigantic oak trees, or in the beautifully laid-out garden of this extensive domain, and after a sumptuous déjeuner, the majority set to dancing. A small orchestra of stringed instruments played alternately with the ship's band in the garden, and in the tastefully decorated apartment. Those who did not care to dance, or whom a burning afternoon sun prevented from walking in the open air, might escape into cool and most elegant cellars, where our hospitable entertainer had stored large quantities of "spiritual treasures." The costly nectar which the Cape, and especially High Constantia, produces, finds its way but seldom to European tables, because the quantity produced is very much below the demand; for although the first cultivation of the grape for wine dates in Cape Colony so far back as 1668, the wine manufacture has only of late years expanded in a marked degree—viz., 45 per cent. from 1855 to 1856, and 70 per cent. from 1856 to 1857, so that at present the entire quantity produced of red and white Cape wine (Pontac and Frontignac) may be stated at 24,000 pipes, worth £380,000 sterling.

At the conclusion of the fête we sat down to a splendid banquet in the open air, in a shady avenue, so as to admit of all the guests sitting at one long table. At the upper end, under the umbrageous boughs of some venerable oaks, that towered like a canopy overhead, fluttered the flags of England and Austria. The mayor of Cape Town occupied the chair; the toasts customary on such occasions were given and responded to, allusion being made to the pleasure felt at the arrival of an Austrian man-of-war, as also to the gratitude of the members of the Expedition for the hearty welcome prepared for them, and expressing an earnest hope that both Governments may ever continue faithfully allied, as both nations are, by descent, sympathy, and intellectual pursuits. A few days after this splendid entertainment, we returned to Simon's Bay, whence the Novara was already preparing to sail. The several weeks' stay of the frigate at the little settlement of Simon's Bay, together with a certain quantity of repairs, had called forth a most unwonted briskness of business. Amid so circumscribed a population, the sudden influx of more than three hundred additional consumers, with their varying wants, speedily made itself perceptible in every class of the community, the more so as most of the heavy stores for the voyage were bought here, so that the sum set in circulation during these few weeks amounted to some £2,000. At the same time the Expedition were readily permitted to contribute a mite towards building the Catholic Church in Simon's Town, and to present some priests' garments, altar cloths, and church fittings, which had been intended by the Austrian Government for distribution among four Catholic Missionaries in the various quarters of the globe visited.

Some members of the Expedition also set out on an excursion some thirty nautical miles, to where the peninsula of the Cape stretches out to the real Cape of Good Hope itself—a longer, more difficult, but also more interesting expedition, which gave fresher impressions, and conveyed a pretty accurate and more just idea of the physical features of the Peninsula of the Cape, its vegetation, zoology, and geological structure, than could be obtained by a cursory examination, of the natural features of a large portion of South Africa. For whoever has clambered up the torn, broken, rocky masses of Table Mountain, worn out and eaten away by the atmosphere, and has scrambled among its wild hollows, with its forests of the greyish green Pratea Gargentea at his feet, amid its far extending rocky plateaux, full of stagnant water-pools; whoever has strayed thence among the wine-producing terraced hills of Constantia, with their rich vegetation; over the sandy table-lands backed by rocky ridges, over streams of copper-coloured water, and the boggy tracts that extend to the extreme south-west point, as far as the Sandstone rocks, 800 feet high, which, descending sheer into the tempest-tossed, fearsome, boiling ocean, constitutes the actual Cape of Good Hope—obtains a tolerably just and correct idea of the appearance of Southern Africa for one hundred miles into the interior, and along the coast line, 400 English miles in length, which stretches from St. Helena Bay as far as the River Samtoos, west of Algoa Bay. All is sandstone or clay-slate, with occasional granitic knobs cropping out; no trees, but such as are planted in clumps around the sparsely scattered farms, conspicuous from an immense distance; while, on the other hand, in spring, an indescribable flush of blossoms and flowers, and instead of trees, millions of ant-hills, with their regularly shaped cones from three to four feet high, impart a peculiar character to the landscape of South Africa. But on the so-called Lowlands of Algoa Bay, beyond the River Samtoos, Nature assumes an entirely different character in her forest vegetation. Unfortunately, the original designs of the geologists of the Expedition, of Examining the petrified treasures of this renowned district, fell through, which was all the more to be regretted as this geological Eldorado promised a great accession to our collection.

During our stay at Simon's Town, we also experimented with our astronomical instruments, which, at our next station, St. Paul's Island, were to be brought fully into requisition for the first time. On this occasion, as on many others, the unfailing courtesy and kindness of the renowned astronomer and director of the Observatory of Cape Town, Mr. Thomas Maclear, assisted us most materially in the observations for comparison with our own physical instruments.

PLATE IV.—FROM THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE TO ST. PAUL'S ISLAND.

On the morning of the 26th October it fell calm, changing to variable breezes and light puffs of wind, that made it doubtful whether we could sail that day, as we needed a catspaw from the West in order to weigh anchor. From the English line of battle-ship Boscawen, there floated across the bay as we worked out, the Austrian National Anthem, played as a farewell—a graceful mark of recognition—which was replied to by our band performing the sister hymn, "God Save the Queen."

We steered between Noah's Ark and Roman Rock, coasting along till we made Whittle Rock, but the wind shifting, we were, ere long, compelled to tack. Had we not seized the favourable moment to get away, it would, a couple of hours later, have been impossible to put to sea, as the wind sprang up from the S.E. and blew fresh. Towards sundown, the sky cleared up, and we once more caught sight of the serrated outline of the southernmost point, with its desolate, worn, hollowed-out, rocky masses, which, however, with the souvenirs of the hearty reception that had been accorded us in Cape Town seemed on this occasion much more home-like and habitable. All of us, indeed, carried with us in our breasts the most cordial and agreeable reminiscences of the Cape of Good Hope.

In spite of many drawbacks and deficiencies of physical requisites, which oppose the rapid development of its natural resources, Cape Colony possesses in its healthy climate its valuable indigenous products, and its free political institutions, a guarantee for its perhaps gradual, but on that account more substantial, progress. It is a favourable specimen of a prosperous agricultural colony able to maintain itself, whose inhabitants, seeking in the peaceable cultivation of the soil their sole reward, are exposed to none of those ruinous reverses of fortune, which make life in those lands that are rich only in a metallic currency so stormy and uncomfortable, and render their future so problematical.

A colony, which already employs annually, in its commerce all over the world, a thousand ships, which has a trade valued at nearly £2,000,000 sterling, and before long will be in a position to export 30,000,000 lbs. of wool a year, besides an unlimited quantity of wines already in great demand, whose soil, owing to its prolific nature, returns, under human cultivation, crops of one hundred-fold, while in its unexplored districts as many additional vegetable and mineral treasures lie unavailable as yet—such a colony carries in itself the germs of a splendid development into a great and most enviable future. Provided with laws of a most liberal scope, and institutions corresponding to the spirit of our times, which leave each colonist entirely at liberty to develope his powers and capabilities in whatever direction he pleases, Cape Colony must, ere long, stand forth as the pattern colony for all others in the different countries beyond sea—a majestic monument of the reward so justly due to the English nation for its policy in promoting the moral and material progress of mankind in the most remote corners of the earth.

We lay a southerly course in order to strike the regular Westerly winds, which we might hope to fall in with in the neighbourhood of 40° S., and already we again saw our old friends, the albatross, the cape pigeon, and the stormy petrel, in innumerable quantities.

By the evening of the 28th we had attained our limit in the South-west, but the West winds had not yet made their appearance, so that we had to contend till 1st November with baffling light winds alternating with calms. At length in 37° 30′ S. and 18° 4′ E., we encountered Westerly breezes, which, ere long, freshened, veered to the southward, and compelled us to shorten sail. We were at this time not quite as yet in the zone of West winds, but had to do with variable winds; which, however, as the prevailing winds must be west or south, could generally be made available to enable us to lay our course for St. Paul. Although in the month corresponding to May in the southern hemisphere, we found ourselves shivering with cold, the thermometer barely reached 18° Cent. (64°·4 Fah.) during the day in the open air, and our bodies, accustomed of late to a milder temperature, felt as though it were twice more rigorous than it actually was, in consequence of the wind coming from the ice-bound antarctic regions.

On the afternoon of 4th November, a great excitement arose on board; a violent shower filled the lifeboats with water, and a large black object was observed swimming in the sea. Fortunately, it was not a man, though it proved to be a great favourite that had fallen overboard. Bessy, an ape, had got loose from her chain, and while being chased, fell in her eagerness into the sea, which fortunately was tolerably smooth. The droll little brute had quickly made itself such a favourite with the crew from its comical attractive ways, that its sudden fall overboard awoke universal sympathy. A boat was lowered, and Bessy rescued, who speedily recovered from her fright, and although dripping wet, proceeded to consume an orange that was handed her with an expression of entire satisfaction.

On reaching 40° S., 31° E., the West winds became more steady, with a perceptible increase of motion, giving an average of 33 feet as the height of the waves, while the frigate rolled heavily. Sometimes several "Rollers" would follow one after the other, which made the ship heel over from 20° to 25° on either side. At each roll, streams of water poured in upon the gun-deck. The cannon-shot kept up a deafening dance from one side to the other, while stools, tables, chests, and in short everything that could move, were unmistakably "lively." The temperature of the air during the night fell to 41° Fahrenheit, and was felt yet more keenly in squalls accompanied by rain, which made our life on board anything but agreeable, although the certainty that we were proceeding favourably with the so-called "Fair" Westerly winds indemnified us in some degree for the discomfort.

On 14th November, in 40° 44′ S., 60° 8′ E., we availed ourselves of a dead calm and smooth sea to try a cast of Brooke's Patent Deep-sea Lead.

While at Rio, we had been supplied, through the kindness of Don José de Barnabé, Commander of the Royal Spanish Frigate Bilbao, with a large quantity of lead-line, after an unsuccessful attempt to purchase it there. Unfortunately, however, the line had become somewhat decomposed by moisture, and gave way at 6,170 fathoms (37,020 English feet) while still running out, so that on this occasion also, we could only tell that bottom had not been reached with the portion of the line paid out.

The times occupied by the line in running out were as follows:—

1st	1000	fathoms	15	minutes	36	seconds.
2nd	"	"	26	"	59	"
3rd	"	"	34	"	20	"
4th	"	"	43	"	25	"
5th	"	"	61	"	5	"
6th	"	"	75	"	55	"
And the last	170	"	11	"	40	"
	____		______		______
Total	6,170	"	4 hours		29 minutes.

To the apparatus two 30-lbs. shot were attached, and the first 100 fathoms of line were doubled. By this observation we satisfied ourselves that such soundings are only successful when none but the best materials are employed, and, moreover, that the line becomes deteriorated in an extraordinary degree by long stowage on boardship, so that it is better in long voyages not to take such large supplies of line, but to adopt most stringent measures to prevent its being weakened by damp. Very probably a light coating of tar over the line would tend to keep it in good preservation, and it also seems advisable proportionately to strengthen the first 500 or 1000 fathoms.

On the 18th November the look-out man descried from the main topgallant mast-head the Island of St. Paul, the goal of our wishes, the object which had so long occupied our thoughts, and on which our scientific capabilities were to be called into enviable activity. The necessary arrangements were completed for facilitating astronomical observations, the instruments and other necessaries taken out and got in readiness to be conveyed to the island, and the various stations and duties of the different members specified, so as to admit of the observations being completed in the shortest possible time.

On the 19th November, at daybreak, we found ourselves close in with St. Paul's Island, while on our port-side the outline of New Amsterdam was visible in the shape of two lofty peaks on the horizon. As the wind blew from the N.W., we kept the ship's course past the north promontory of the island, and ranged along the eastern side to the selected anchoring ground. As we doubled the northernmost point, the conical-shaped Nine-Pin Rock came into view, while the high and precipitous margin of the island in the N.E. with the entrance into the crater became visible. How great, however, was our astonishment, when we observed some neatly laid-out terraces, of a fresher green hue than were observed in the upper table-lands of the island! These were evidently spots cultivated by former or present residents in the island. But no traces of habitation were seen, whether of mankind or of the seal. Only flights of albatrosses, bryons, ospreys, and sea-swallows, with now and then the protracted screams (like human groans) of immense flights of penguins, those singular-looking sea-birds, which awaken so deep an interest alike for their striking appearance as by their mode of life.

An examination of the rock of the island showed layers of black lava, alternating with yellow and red tufa, which seemed stratified regularly from the rim of the crater to the extreme circumference of the island. "Thirty fathoms, and no bottom," sung the wearied leadsman; and presently, "Thirty fathoms,"—and a few minutes before 9 a. m. the anchor rattled out, on the 24th day after we left Simon's Bay, after retracing our steps Eastward some 3000 miles. Our anchorage, as we afterwards became aware, was not the best possible, as we ought to have lain closer in to the island. But when one anchors nearer the land in a less depth of water, one is by no means more protected from storms sweeping in from seawards, to which the entire eastern half of the island lies exposed. Only on the west side does the island, with the steep margin of the crater some 700 or 800 feet high, afford any protection against the west winds, which, however, seldom blow here.

ARRIVAL AT ST. PAUL.

52. The English appellation "Karroo" seems to be derived from Karusa, signifying "hard" in the Hottentot language, and to refer to a quality appertaining to the clayey substance of which these terraces are composed, by virtue of which the red clay, strongly impregnated with iron, and mixed with sand, becomes in the dry season as hard as burnt clay.

53. The Dyaks of Borneo poison their arrows with the juice of Strychnos Tieuté and Antiaris Toxicaria (Upas).

54. At the same time 92,793 head of cattle (draught oxen, cows, and calves) fell a sacrifice to a disease of the lungs, and we were assured that the original cause of this terribly fatal malady (Pleuropneumonia) is attributable to a bull having been imported from Holland, in the year 1854, in a diseased state. The English public will remember the severe panic under which Continental graziers, and others connected with the cattle trade, laboured during the years 1854–55 and the commencement of 1856.

55. Most valuable comprehensive details, as to the natural history of the tsetse-fly, its ravages, and its migration into the districts which it frequents, are to be found in the "Transactions of the Royal Society," Volume XX., page 148; "Proceedings of the London Geological Society," page 217; Charles John Anderson's "Lake Ngami; or, Explorations and Discoveries during Four Years' Wanderings in the Wilds of Western Africa," London, 1856; Dr. Livingstone's "Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa," London, 1857. The agent of the London Missionary Society at the Cape of Good Hope, the estimable, highly respected Dr. Thompson, gave us a small piece of a root called fly-root, which is considered to grow from a parasite, and a decoction of which is reckoned by the aborigines an antidote to the bite of the tsetse-fly. Unfortunately the requisite material was not in sufficient quantity to admit of determining the plant itself, or of instituting further researches with it.