davits, blown against the rigging, and a valuable charger of the Colonel's killed. All this time, the wind was dead on the north coast of Spain, and we were obliged to wear ship constantly, driving about between Ushant and Scilly, till at the end of eight days we had the peculiar satisfaction of finding ourselves a trifle nearer England than on the first.

"Post nubila Phœbus." After the black and angry Bay of Biscay, the sunny tropics. The gale moderated, and by the 6th of April we had entered the torrid zone; awnings were spread on deck, and the band played in the evenings, which closed with the most gorgeous sunsets. The only land seen since leaving port, was St. Antonio, one of the Cape de Verde islands, about twenty miles off, which we sighted as the setting sun lit up its rugged sides with the richest tints of purple and gold.

On the 16th we crossed the Line, where, with grave circumstance and ceremony, the uninitiated were made freemasons by Neptune and his court in person, after being well lathered with pipe-clay and mops, shaved with three-feet razors, soundly ducked, and afterwards rinsed by liberal applications of the fire-engine hose and water-buckets. On reaching the southerly "trades" we were right glad to get rid of the stifling heat, and clanking of the engine, and spread canvass once more.

A succession of tropical calms, in which we were, nearly roasted; and tropical showers, in which we were as nearly drowned, ensued. The beautiful "Southern-cross," "Centaur," and other, to us new, constellations, now shone out nightly with surpassing brilliancy; and bonetas, sharks, dolphins, Cape-pigeons, and albatrosses, with flying-fish innumerable, played around the ship day after day; some of the latter gratifying our curiosity by a visit through the ports.

After a monotonous voyage of more than seven weeks, we, one fine evening, sighted what the landsmen took to be a hazy bank of cloud in the extreme horizon, but the sailors declared most positively to be land, with so many and extraordinary maledictions on themselves and personal property generally, that they ought to have felt considerably relieved when daylight the following morning put it beyond a doubt. Long before the hour of breakfast, our usual meet, every one was on deck gazing at the distant mountains and bold headlands of the Cape, which rapidly grew more distinct as we approached them with a fresh breeze in our favour, a magnificent sea running mountains high. Late in the day the scattered houses became visible along the welcome shore, and we entered Simon's Bay.

The little town—a group of flat-roofed white and yellow houses, with Venetian shutters and wide verandahs—is prettily situated at the foot of a mountain, fringed with bushes. American aloes and cactus form luxuriant hedges round the gardens, and flourish to an immense size; picturesque groups of swarthy Malays, in huge beehive-shaped hats, or red and yellow bandanas, gazed at us from the shore, or pulled alongside, vociferating in Dutch, and offering melons, pumpkins, eggs, and fruit, for sale.

Next day we went ashore, while the women and children were being disembarked to remain behind at Cape Town, and the rest of our camp equipage was got on board, and took advantage of the opportunity to make a rapid survey of the immediate neighbourhood, and stretch our legs after nearly two months imprisonment on board ship. As we strolled along the street we were much struck with the skill and ease with which the native Africanders drove their waggons, eight and ten in hand, full trot round the most difficult corners, an assistant wielding an enormous whip with both hands; and during our rambles were delighted to find the most exquisite specimens of our greenhouse ericas wild on the mountain sides. The evening was warm and lovely, and the perfume of the creepers and flowering trees most delicious, as we walked in the bright moonlight; not a sound was heard but the rippling of the waves and the shrill cry of the cicada, and we very reluctantly left the refreshing repose of the quiet shore to go on board again.

The following morning, at a signal from the Commodore, we steamed out of the harbour, and shaped our course for Algoa Bay, a run of about three hundred miles, along a wild, and almost uninhabited coast.

CHAPTER II.
STATE OF THE COUNTRY ON ARRIVAL.

On arriving in Simon's Bay our first anxiety, of course, was to learn the latest tidings from the seat of war, which fully confirmed the unfavourable intelligence that had led to our sudden change of destination. The natives were in open rebellion, plundering the frontier farms, attacking post after post, and committing the most deliberate outrages and murders; and all the efforts of Sir Harry Smith to check them were comparatively ineffectual without fresh reinforcements, which he was now anxiously expecting.

It was at last but too evident, even to the most sanguine advocates of peace, that all hopes of such a desirable consummation being permanently effected in the colony were at end, so far as depended on any promises or treaties of the faithless Kaffirs. The experiment had been fairly tried again and again, and had as often failed. Never had there been such encouragement to hope for ultimate success as in the decided improvement and progress effected during the few years which had elapsed since the last war, after the conferences of December 24, 1847, and January 7, 1848, at King William's Town.

At the conclusion of that war it was found absolutely necessary, for the future safety and peace of the colony, to extend the frontier line of our possessions to the Great Kei River, including the large district named British Kaffraria, which, with the lately "Ceded Territory," were declared to be forfeited by the vanquished Kaffirs, as the penalty of their rebellion. In point of fact, however, they were left in possession of the country, each tribe, with their respective chiefs, being assigned to different districts, the whole under a system of government by local magistrates or commissioners, who were again subordinate to Colonel Mackinnon, the Commandant and Chief Commissioner at King William's Town. The condition on which they were allowed to retain occupation of these districts was that of declaring allegiance to the Crown, with which both Chiefs and people at once complied; and, in addition to this, and in accordance with their own laws, each Chief was made responsible for any cattle or other robberies, the spoor of which could be traced to his kraal, he having to pay the full value, and follow up the spoor as best he could. The result was, that as there could thus be no receivers, there were soon few thieves, and property became comparatively secure, order being further enforced and preserved by a body of 400 Kaffir police, regularly drilled and equipped. The blessings of order and an equitable administration of justice inspired a confidence which was gradually felt by the people to be far preferable to the arbitrary and capricious rule of their chiefs, supported as it was by the grossest superstitions and impostures; and, besides this, efforts were made to improve their moral condition, every encouragement being given to missionary exertions, and the opening of schools and places of worship, with abundant success.

Admirable however as was Sir H. Smith's system, and also its working,—for, as was remarked, nothing could be more promising than the state of the country up to the autumn of 1850,—an element was at work, the importance of which had not been duly estimated, and to which may undoubtedly be traced the origin of the subsequent war. The chiefs found their power and influence melting