The Streets at Cape Town.

5

First there passes us a well-built kaffir, with no covering to his head but its native wool, clad in an old pair of 78th Highlander trews, and wearing, as a coat, a sack with slits cut for the arms and head. Behind him come two celestials, hand in hand, and wearing the invariable blue smock-frocks and straw hats; their pigtails carefully coiled up under their hats to avoid the too particular attention of the kaffirs, who find the dangling pigtail almost irresistible. Jostling the Chinamen are a couple of Boer farmers who have probably brought their waggons loaded with fruit, corn, and vegetables, to the Cape Town market. They are tall lanky fellows, their faces sallow and much sun-burnt, and they have long, sandy-coloured hair reaching down their necks. As they slouch past, dressed in brown velveteen trousers and coats, with broad-brimmed soft felt hats on their heads, and pipes in their mouths, we catch a few words of a guttural language which sounds much like German. Close behind follow their "vraws," dressed entirely in black, with thick black veils and large black poke bonnets which quite prevent our seeing what their faces are like. As their arms are full of paper parcels, we presume that they have been shopping, and investing their goodmen's market-money in town delicacies and new fashions for their homes far up in the country. Next come a couple of decidedly well-to-do-looking merchants in long grey silk coats and white hats, who stop to speak to a small group of officers, dressed in the ordinary tweed shooting-clothes, but with helmets on their heads. Two Parsee washerwomen

with large bundles of clothes, a few soldiers in their red coats and helmets, here and there a sailor ashore from one of the men-of-war in harbour, are the more striking figures among a crowd of people who all seem to think it is too hot for much exertion, and do not hurry themselves as they walk along the shady sides of the streets.

Hansoms are the chief means of conveyance, or else two-horse broughams. The horses are remarkably good ones for their work. Looking down a long line, I did not notice a single broken-down screw, such as one passes a dozen of during a stroll of 100 yards along any street in London. Most of them are barbs, about fourteen hands in height or even under, but showing a good deal of breeding. We had not much time to inspect the town, as dinner was at 6.30, and we returned to our hotel with capital appetites for the very good dinner which was served up to us at the table-d'hôte. Thick soup, fried snook, cutlets with tomatoes, a haunch of bok, dignified by the name of venison, saddle of mutton, chickens, ducks, stewed pears, tarts, rice pudding, and, for desert, a large assortment of water-melons, grapes, peaches, and nuts, was the menu. The snook is a large fish rather resembling a pike in appearance but far superior to it in flavour; it takes the place of our sole in Cape Town, as it is always in season, and is equally good for breakfast, luncheon, and dinner.

After dinner most of those who had come from on board ship went off to the theatre. I preferred sitting outside on the stoop of the hotel, and enjoying a quiet cigar and a cup of excellent coffee, and

found plenty of amusement in watching the strange and novel figures passing by, or occasionally stopping in groups to chat and gossip, as by degrees the various shops and warehouses put out their lights leaving only the street-lamps, which were few and far between, to illuminate the town.

When we landed in the afternoon the thermometer registered 98° in the shade of the house, but after dinner the mercury went down to 50°, which enabled us to obtain a refreshing sleep before the heat of another day began. On turning in I luckily did not neglect the precaution of sprinkling insect-powder over the sheets and bed-clothes, and smearing my hands, neck, feet, and face with a mixture of rosemary and turpentine. In consequence I was the only one of the new arrivals who appeared next morning at the breakfast-table unharmed by the attacks of various flying, hopping, and crawling insects which constitute one of the most serious annoyances consequent upon living in a hot climate. After a continued residence in a country infested by mosquitoes, a man's whole system gets so innoculated with the poison that their sting has no painful effect whatsoever, and scarcely leaves any mark. The fact that after a few years the sting does not, as a rule, cause any annoyance is sometimes put down to the blood of a resident in tropical climates becoming naturally so thin, that the mosquito can suck it out without inserting any of the poison it uses to thin the thick blood of a new arrival, and enable it to make a meal. The new comer, on the other hand, has all the advantage on

his side in being able to withstand the intense heat, and in bearing up against its enervating effect. Over and over again I have seen residents, and even natives, almost prostrate in the middle of the day, when a new arrival was quite bright and energetic. But after a few months the effect becomes apparent, all energy seems gradually to be sucked out of a man, and he succumbs by degrees to the general listlessness which at first has so much surprised him, and he himself joins in the chorus, which always greets the new comer's energetic action and indifference to heat, of "Wait till you have been out here as long as I have, and see how you will like it then."

Wynberg.

9

CHAPTER II.

Wynberg-Rathfelder's Hotel-The Suburbs of Cape TownJacobus-An afternoon ride-Constantia-Vineyards and wines-History of a loaf of bread-Servants.

THE first advice a stranger receives on reaching Cape Town is to quit it as soon as possible; and alarming are the stories he hears on all sides of hot nights, when sleep is out of the question, of sou'westers during which the very paving stones perform aërial flights, and the atmosphere is thick with pebbles, sand, and red dust; the latter, he is informed, likely to cause numberless lung complaints to a man even in strong health, and out of the question for an invalid to withstand. But even more deadly and dangerous than hot nights and sou'-westers are the pestilential vapours which steal over the town during the nights, caused by the very insufficient sanitary arrangements.

Very few of the residents who can afford to do otherwise live in Cape Town itself, except professional men, who are obliged to be near at hand, and in the midst of their business or practice. The whole road between Wynberg and Cape Town is lined with pretty and comfortable little villas with from one to thirty acres of land laid out in plantations and ornamental gardens round about them. The railway runs through them, and there are stations every one or two miles. Here