The
Chameleons Are Charming, So Monkey-Like And So 'caressants'.
They
sit on my breakfast tray and catch flies, and hang in a bunch by
their tails, and reach out after my hand.
I have had a very kind letter from Lady Walker, and shall go and
stay with them at Simon's Bay as soon as I feel up to the twenty-
two miles along the beaches and bad roads in the mail-cart with
three horses. The teams of mules (I beg pardon, spans) would
delight you - eight, ten, twelve, even sixteen sleek, handsome
beasts; and oh, such oxen! noble beasts with humps; and hump is
very good to eat too.
Oct. 21st. - The mail goes out to-morrow, so I must finish this
letter. I feel better to-day than I have yet felt, in spite of the
south-easter.
Yours, &c.
LETTER III
28th Oct. - Since I wrote, we have had more really cold weather, but
yesterday the summer seems to have begun. The air is as light and
clear as if THERE WERE NONE, and the sun hot; but I walk in it, and
do not find it oppressive. All the household groans and perspires,
but I am very comfortable.
Yesterday I sat in the full broil for an hour or more, in the hot
dust of the Malay burial-ground. They buried the head butcher of
the Mussulmans, and a most strange poetical scene it was. The
burial-ground is on the side of the Lion Mountain - on the Lion's
rump - and overlooks the whole bay, part of the town, and the most
superb mountain panorama beyond. I never saw a view within miles
of it for beauty and grandeur. Far down, a fussy English steamer
came puffing and popping into the deep blue bay, and the 'Hansom's'
cabs went tearing down to the landing place; and round me sat a
crowd of grave brown men chanting 'Allah il Allah' to the most
monotonous but musical air, and with the most perfect voices. The
chant seemed to swell, and then fade, like the wind in the trees.
I went in after the procession, which consisted of a bier covered
with three common Paisley shawls of gay colours; no one looked at
me; and when they got near the grave, I kept at a distance, and sat
down when they did. But a man came up and said, 'You are welcome.'
So I went close, and saw the whole ceremony. They took the corpse,
wrapped in a sheet, out of the bier, and lifted it into the grave,
where two men received it; then a sheet was held over the grave
till they had placed the dead man; and then flowers and earth were
thrown in by all present, the grave filled in, watered out of a
brass kettle, and decked with flowers. Then a fat old man, in
printed calico shirt sleeves, and a plaid waistcoat and corduroy
trousers, pulled off his shoes, squatted on the grave, and recited
endless 'Koran', many reciting after him. Then they chanted
'Allah-il-Allah' for twenty minutes, I think: then prayers, with
'Ameens' and 'Allah il-Allahs' again. Then all jumped up and
walked off. There were eighty or a hundred men, no women, and five
or six 'Hadjis', draped in beautiful Eastern dresses, and looking
very supercilious. The whole party made less noise in moving and
talking than two Englishmen.
A white-complexioned man spoke to me in excellent English (which
few of them speak), and was very communicative and civil. He told
me the dead man was his brother-in-law, and he himself the barber.
I hoped I had not taken a liberty. 'Oh, no; poor Malays were proud
when noble English persons showed such respect to their religion.
The young Prince had done so too, and Allah would not forget to
protect him. He also did not laugh at their prayers, praise be to
God!' I had already heard that Prince Alfred is quite the darling
of the Malays. He insisted on accepting their fete, which the
Capetown people had snubbed. I have a friendship with one Abdul
Jemaalee and his wife Betsy, a couple of old folks who were slaves
to Dutch owners, and now keep a fruit-shop of a rough sort, with
'Betsy, fruiterer,' painted on the back of an old tin tray, and
hung up by the door of the house. Abdul first bought himself, and
then his wife Betsy, whose 'missus' generously threw in her bed-
ridden mother. He is a fine handsome old man, and has confided to
me that 5,000 pounds would not buy what he is worth now. I have
also read the letters written by his, son, young Abdul Rachman, now
a student at Cairo, who has been away five years - four at Mecca.
The young theologian writes to his 'hoog eerbare moeder' a fond
request for money, and promises to return soon. I am invited to
the feast wherewith he will be welcomed. Old Abdul Jemaalee thinks
it will divert my mind, and prove to me that Allah will take me
home safe to my children, about whom he and his wife asked many
questions. Moreover, he compelled me to drink herb tea, compounded
by a Malay doctor for my cough. I declined at first, and the poor
old man looked hurt, gravely assured me that it was not true that
Malays always poisoned Christians, and drank some himself.
Thereupon I was obliged, of course, to drink up the rest; it
certainly did me good, and I have drunk it since with good effect;
it is intensely bitter and rather sticky. The white servants and
the Dutch landlady where I lodge shake their heads ominously, and
hope it mayn't poison me a year hence. 'Them nasty Malays can make
it work months after you take it.' They also possess the evil eye,
and a talent for love potions. As the men are very handsome and
neat, I incline to believe that part of it.
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