I Must Send
Dear Old Klein A Little Present From England, To Show That I Don't
Forget My Dutch Adorer.
I wish I could bring you the 'Biltong ' he
sent me - beef or bok dried in the sun in strips, and slightly
salted; you may carry enough in your pocket to live on for a
fortnight, and it is very good as a little 'relish'.
The
partridges also have been welcome, and we shall eat the tiny haunch
of bok to-day.
Mrs. D- is gone to Capetown to get servants (the Scotch girl having
carried on her amours too flagrantly), and will return in my cart.
S- is still keeping house meanwhile, much perturbed by the placid
indolence of the brown girl. The stableman cooks, and very well
too. This is colonial life - a series of makeshifts and
difficulties; but the climate is fine, people feel well and make
money, and I think it is not an unhappy life. I have been most
fortunate in my abode, and can say, without speaking cynically,
that I have found 'my warmest welcome at an inn'. Mine host is a
rough soldier, but the very soul of good nature and good feeling;
and his wife is a very nice person - so cheerful, clever, and
kindhearted.
I should like to bring home the little Madagascar girl from
Rathfelders, or a dear little mulatto who nurses a brown baby here,
and is so clean and careful and 'pretty behaved', - but it would be
a great risk. The brown babies are ravishing - so fat and jolly and
funny.
One great charm of the people here is, that no one expects money or
gifts, and that all civility is gratis. Many a time I finger small
coin secretly in my pocket, and refrain from giving it, for fear of
spoiling this innocence. I have not once seen a LOOK implying
'backsheesh', and begging is unknown. But the people are reserved
and silent, and have not the attractive manners of the darkies of
Capetown and the neighbourhood.
LETTER X
Caledon, Feb. 22d.
Yesterday Captain D- gave me a very nice caross of blessbok skins,
which he got from some travelling trader. The excellence of the
Caffre skin-dressing and sewing is, I fancy, unequalled; the bok-
skins are as soft as a kid glove, and have no smell at all.
In the afternoon the young doctor drove me, in his little gig-cart
and pair (the lightest and swiftest of conveyances), to see a wine-
farm. The people were not at work, but we saw the tubs and vats,
and drank 'most'. The grapes are simply trodden by a Hottentot, in
a tub with a sort of strainer at the bottom, and then thrown -
skins, stalks, and all - into vats, where the juice ferments for
twice twenty-four hours; after which it is run into casks, which
are left with the bung out for eight days; then the wine is drawn
off into another cask, a little sulphur and brandy are added to it,
and it is bunged down.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 50 of 73
Words from 25542 to 26054
of 37925
