THE CAPE AND THE KAFIRS;

OR,

NOTES OF FIVE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN SOUTH AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.

Go to the Cape without intending to do so.-Sensations on Embarking. Beating down Channel.-A pilot.-Delays.-Bay of Biscay.-Sea-sickness and its delights. My fellow Passengers. - Strange mixture of Emigrants. Midnight mortality among the Poultry. - Short of fresh Provisions. - The Small-pox on board.-Caln off the coast of South America.-Bahia.-Short of Provisions again. Steer for the Cape.-The reef of rocks.-Anchoring by night.-Shipwreck, and its horrors.-Escape, and landing at Cape Town.

Most men, on leaving their native land for a foreign country especially for one which is to be their abiding-place for years, form some previous ideas of the climate, soil, people, and pursuits of the regions they are about to visit. So far from this being my own case, when I sailed from England on a voyage which terminated in South Africa, I had not even the remotest notion of visiting that quarter of the globe at all. My destination, in my own idea, was New Zealand; but fate had decreed, that, instead of going to the antipodes, I should be carried to the land of Hottentots, and be there planted for a space of five years. Verily, homme propose, mais Dieu dispose; nor have I ever since felt inclined to murmur at the decrees of Providence in this instance. Had I reached New Zealand, I might have formed a side dish at some select banquet of Cannibal Maoris, instead of spending five happy years in the Cape Colony, and living to tell of my adventures by flood and field in these pages.

In the latter end of the month of March, 1841, I sailed from Gravesend in the emigrant ship, Prince Rupert, bound for New Zealand. Never shall I forget my sensations on embarking. I had visited the ship when lying in the London Docks, neat and trim, and on shore; and I had engaged my passage with the comfortable reflection of having secured a good berth in an excellent ship. It certainly looked rather a queer little shelf, that "bunk" (as the sailors call it), in which I was to lie every night of my life for some six months-rather larger than a coffin, but not half so handsome. The cabin, too, about six feet by five, was more snug than spacious. The cuddy, where forty people were to take breakfast, dinner, and tea together, appeared about the size of a saloon carriage on the Brighton Railway. But all my doubts as to the capabilities of these different departments of the vessel to contain the various live stock destined to fill them, were met with such strong assurances on the part of the captain, that there was "plenty of room," and that "things looked so different at sea," accompanied by such smiles at my landsman's ignorance, that I made up my mind that it was all right, and that I was a remarkably lucky fellow in finding such an

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admirable ship, commanded by such a thorough-bred seaman. But oh! what a contrast when I again stepped on but hard that ship at Gravesend. One hundred and twenty emigrantsar and cabin passengers were there, besides the crew. One hundrered and twenty mortals' personal baggage strewed the decks, besiè les water-casks, hencoops, sheep-pens, boats, rigging, babies, dogs and t pigs! the sight and the sounds, and the conglomeration of odours,t each intensely vile in itself, made me shudder; and I felt half in clined to rush back to land, forfeit my passage-money, and fors wearf all inclination "to roam the wide world o'er."

Perhaps I was more keenly alive to all these discomforts and annoyances, because my mind was not distracted from them by other reflections. I had no weeping relatives around me, nor had I left any behind me; no fair one who held my heart captive in England, while I was fleeing bodily away; no ruined fortunes to lament over; no vast amount of amor patriæ to overcome. truth is, I was leaving England because I felt that I was de trop in a country where every profession was overstocked, and where I, a young man without fortune or friends, stood very little chance of fighting the battle of life with any very glorious result to myself.

The

In the course of the following day, things and people began to fall a little more into their proper places. We were expecting to sail every minute, but there was something wrong with the custom-house authorities which detained us. We had the pleasing intelligence at last, that the ship was cleared, and we weighed anchor. A jolly, red-faced, old pilot, who drank about sixteen tumblers of grog per diem, and ate three hearty meals in the same time (not to mention an occasional biscuit or sandwich) took charge of our ship to Portsmouth. He soon discovered that she was as "cranky" (or top-heavy) as she could be, from bad stowing. We were, therefore, detained a week or ten days at Portsmouth, while the ship was unloaded and re-stowed. Then another pilot took charge of us, and we dropped down to Plymouth, or rather beat our way down, for the wind was dead in our teeth. From Plymouth we sailed after an interval of two or three more days, and caught our last view of old England's shores in the beginning of May.

Did any one ever see a man who had crossed the Bay of Biscay in fine weather? For my own part, I firmly believe that the sun never shines there, and the wind never ceases to blow a hurricane. Fancy about one hundred human beings in the agonies of sea-sickness for a week; or, rather, you cannot fancy anything half so awful. Then the gradual recovering; the creeping out of your berth, and being pitched against the side of your cabin with the force of a racket-ball; the dull, heavy, half-giddy, half-drowsy sensation of your brain; the weakness and faintness of your whole body; the extreme hunger, yet extreme daintiness of your appetite; the disgusting smell of a close cabin, with an intermixture of fresh tar; the many fruitless attempts to get comfortably into your "inexpressibles," and at last the staggering up the companion-ladder on to the deck, and the scene that meets you there! A sea and a sky of dirty brown, the former rolling and tumbling about like a giant with the night-mare; and the vessel on which you stand, a little cock-boat tossed to and fro, and seeming, to your uninitiated eye, to be doomed to inevitable destruction.

The captain tells you we have had a "pretty stiff breeze, but it's all over now, and we 're getting fine weather again;" and just as he says so, a big wave makes a jump at the quarter-deck, nearly knocks you overboard, and drenches you from head to feet. You don't like that sort of fine weather, so you retire to the cuddy, and determine to try your success at the dinner which the steward and his mates, who all seem to have been brought up as tight-rope dancers, so well do they balance themselves, are bringing in. You take your seat, and every now and then hug your neighbour most affectionately to prevent your joint upset. You think you will try "a little soup," and just at that moment the ship gives a terrific lurch, and the contents of the soup tureen most obligingly deposit themselves in your lap. You take some boiled chicken, and as you seize the parsley and butter, you pour it into your neighbour's wine-glass, instead of your own plate. You ask for some pale ale, and the steward's youngest and newest mate helps you to it, by pouring half of it into your glass, and the other half down your back. You see a swinging trayful of glasses hanging just before you-the ship rolls,-you fancy the glasses are all coming on to you you frantically try to save them and by pulling them out of their equilibrium, the whole lot come down on to the table with a terrific crash! All this while (except when you break the glassware) the captain and the mate are making terrific inroads on all the provisions, discussing the weather, hob-nobbing over their wine, and looking as unconcerned as if an angle of forty-five degrees was the natural position of a gentleman's dining-table. You hate them both intensely.

Fine weather came at last, and I had an opportunity of observing my fellow-passengers. What a curious compound they were! There were Government officers going out to the new capital of New Zealand, of the very name of which we were then in a state of ignorance. These men had a remarkable sense of their own importance, and with their Government buttons, and gold bands round their caps, made a far more imposing appearance than the officers of the ship. There were gentlemen-farmers, innocent of the slightest acquaintance with ploughing and sowing, and with very confused notions of the difference between barley and oats. There were selfstyled "merchants," - gentlemen with heterogeneous cargoes on board, comprising everything from champagne to tin tacks, from Manchester prints to bowie-knives - gentlemen who intended to make fortunes by "doing" the Maoris, provided the latter did not eat them with the knives and forks of their own importing, and wash them down in their own champagne. Lastly, there were a few unfortunate young gentlemen, whose sole stock in trade, and possessions of every description, consisted of an outfit from Silver's, a fifty pound note, a good education, and a paternal blessing.

In the steerage were seventy or eighty emigrants of every description, but with no common point of resemblance, save that of prolificness. They had all huge families of children, which I understand is a very high recommendation with emigration-committees in general. There were ploughmen from Somersetshire, mechanics from Lancashire, shepherds from Scotland, seedy artizans from London, bog-trotters from Ireland, and a few ruined tradesmen from everywhere. They stared at one another, at first, like children

of another race; but in a week or two, they began to amalgamate in the most comically fraternal style. It is true that they were split somewhat into parties,-the "religious" party, and the "jolly party, being the prominent ones. The former sang hymns out of tune, and the latter put an obligato accompaniment, with snatches of ditties much beloved at " Evans's," the " Coal-hole," and the "Cyder Cellars." They had no recognized head,-for the Emigration commissioners, having once shipped their live cargo, left them to shift for themselves. The Captain had too much to do to look after their meals or their morals, though both were occasionally outrageously bad. The supercargo said he had "other fish to fry." The surgeon listened to no complaint but one which required physic. So the unfortunate creatures were left to fight their battles out among themselves, under the semi-guidance of a broken tradesman, whom they in conclave elected their chief, and who thought the principal ingredient of royalty was the liberty to do nothing but what pleased him.

I have omitted the children from this summary of our little community but I assure you, good reader, I shall never forget them. A more riotous set of little imps were never sent on earth to plague a sensitive bachelor's nerves; nor any with more voracious appetites. They positively (at least so the Captain swore) almost brought us to a state of starvation. Certain it is that fresh provisions began to run very short. Fowls had a most unaccountable way of dying in the night. A healthy and hardy looking cock, old enough, too, not to be easily upset, would meet with a sudden death in his coop at night; and to our great sorrow be found a corpse in the morning. The cook would be ordered to throw him overboard, but Jack in the forecastle would beg to have him, they "were n't no ways partiklar;" and so they would roast the defunct fowl, and devour him with relish. At last, the cook, being a shrewd fellow, began to suspect foul play (no pun, upon my honour, dear reader). He watched, and detected the mystery. A hand was thrust into a hen coop, an unlucky fowl seized, one of his feathers pulled out, and then thrust into his windpipe. The fowl died, and there were no marks of violence. But murder (even of a cock) will out. The trick being discovered, Jack's grog was stopped for a month, and all fowls dying henceforth peremptorily ordered to be thrown overboard, in spite of any beseeching from the forecastle. The sudden mortality among the poultry forthwith ceased.

We were bound, in the first instance, to Bahia in Brazil, to take in fresh provisions; but long before we reached that haven our stock had fallen short. We were reduced first to preserved meats and afterwards to salt junk and pork. Now, as eating and drinking appears to every one at sea the very aim and end of existence, such an event as this was regarded as the direst calamity. Every one was ill-tempered, and quarrelled with every one else; the captain quarrelled with all of us at once. Then we all began fishing; caught albicores and bonitas, cooked them, and ate them in spite of the cook's warning of the consequences, which were to place six or seven under the doctor's care. Then, by way of an agreeable variation to our ordinary topics of complaints and fears, the small-pox broke out among the emigrants in the steerage. Inquiries were instituted, and it was ascertained that nobody could recollect when

he had been vaccinated, and some strongly suspected that they had never been vaccinated at all. Of course everybody must be vaccinated at once. The doctor was called in, and confessed that he had no vaccine matter on board. Horror and indignation seized us, and we were almost inclined to take summary vengeance on the monster, and throw him overboard. We eyed him askance like a pickpocket, and made his life wretched, as he well deserved it should be, for going to sea without vaccine matter.

For a fortnight or three weeks we lay becalmed off the coast of South America. The shore was distinctly visible, and with our glasses we could even see figures on the beach. Delicious odours were wafted to us by the gentlest of land-breezes, which occasionally sprang up towards evening. The land seemed fertile, and we knew that it abounded in fruit and vegetables, and everything we wanted. We were near it, yet could not reach it.

"The worse than Tantalus' was our annoy,

To clip Elysium, and to lack its joy."

At length a breeze sprang up, and a few hours' sail brought us to the entrance of the Bahia de todos los Santos. It was a lovely evening as we sailed up the neck of the bay, reached the harbour, and cast anchor off the city of St. Salvador, or Bahia. But our patience was destined to a further trial! we could not land till the port authorities had visited us, which would not be till the next morning.

This Bay of All Saints is one of the finest in the world for scenery, extent, and security. The situation of the city is striking, and its appearance imposing, in more senses than one. It rises almost in the form of an amphitheatre, with stately palms overtopping its white houses, and giving it a thoroughly tropical appearance. Below it lie at anchor ships of all nations, the British ensign conspicuous among them in all directions. Opposite to it is the shore of Vera Cruz; and balf way between, in the neck of the bay, is the Island of Taporica. Innumerable boats and small craft, from the graceful felucca with her fairy-like lateen sails, skimming over the dark blue water, to the clumsy catamaran, consisting of a raft of three or four planks joined together, and a pole with a square sail in the middle, thronged the bay. Dozens of row-boats were round our ship, waiting to convey us to shore, in case we got a clean bill of health, as we did, notwithstanding the visit of the small-pox.

I jumped into a boat with a friend, and was soon on shore. Passing through a merchant's store, we emerged into a street, which, though curious and characteristic (the ground floor of every house being quite open) was dirty, ill-paved, ill-smelling, and crowded with negroes. We jumped into a couple of cadeiras (a sort of South American sedan), and were trotted off to the best hotel in the town. The upper town is decidedly superior to the lower. But Bahia, is, after all, a dirty ill-looking place, except from the sea. We remained in it about three weeks, for the Prince Rupert was never in a hurry, and we were well content to taste the luxuries of South America. The weather was desperately warm, but clear and beautiful; the country around was superb, provisions were cheap, and fruit abundant. We appeared to be great favourites with the negroes, because we were Englishmen and countrymen of William