Chapter Twenty Nine.
We went to the Central Hotel. On the second day after our arrival, the wife of a physician of the town called and invited us to dine with them on the following day, Sunday. We did so and made the acquaintance of the excellent Doctor and his little family of interesting children. She then invited us to make her house our home during our stay, and overwhelmed us with kindness.
Unless you have been in a strange land, away from kindred and all who know your people, you can never know the deep happiness it gives to meet with kindness from an utter stranger, as this charming woman was, and to be invited to a home as lovely as hers. After the annoyances and inconveniences of the wretched inns, or hotels, as they were called, to find such open-hearted hospitality was like meeting with kindred in a desert land.
Most of the inhabitants of Queenstown are English or Scotch, there being fewer Dutch or Germans there than in any of the other towns we had visited. There are a number of fine churches and schools, with several newspapers and banks. The ladies of the place are especially social, and dress handsomely. The railway, which had been finished to the port of East London two years previous to our arrival, seemed to have given an impetus to trade, and it was confidently hoped by the burghers would increase rapidly the prosperity of the district.
After enjoying a refreshing season of home life, we said good-by to our new found friends and then left Queenstown by rail. Travelling by rail seemed to us almost a novelty after our late ox-wagon trip, and we could not help contrasting the new style with the old, not all to the disadvantage of the latter, for we could not forget the delightful sleepiness of our inland voyage. We had a twelve hours’ ride before we arrived at King Williamstown, the road passing through a very pretty country, pleasantly wooded, and varied by many deep and romantic kloofs. We were thoroughly tired of the stuffy “compartment” before we reached our destination.
We went to an hotel, where our wants were well cared for by a pretty little landlady whose husband was of a most jealous disposition. The town is in a region of country where there have been many Kafir wars. The military stationed there keep the place awake. It is the fifth town in point of importance in the colony.
During our stay in Africa we had taken many opportunities to practice horseback riding, and had learned the supreme delight there is in a firm seat in the saddle on the back of a well-trained, swift-footed horse. This exercise is especially enjoyable in Africa, where walking is unpleasant in the hot sun. One day we were invited to join in a paper chase, to a spot distant ten or twelve miles from town.
We were assured of being furnished with suitable “mounts,” so we accepted without hesitation. There was a sprinkling of uniforms and a few civilians, and there were several ladies besides ourselves. There were also parties in Cape carts who followed the hunt by road. A cart driven by a rifleman in uniform was to convey refreshments for our party to the place of rendezvous. Presently the fox rode off well mounted.
The “scent” was slung over his shoulder in a capacious canvas bag. Time was taken and he was soon clattering down the road, the music of the horse’s hoofs being accompanied by a ringing bugle blast sounded by one of our enthusiastic huntsmen. He was to have ten minutes start, and the interval was taken advantage of by most of our party to see that girths were tight and bridle reins in order. Our escort had placed us in good position to get away with the first rush, and when “time” was called, we were well down the road in front of the ruck. It had been arranged beforehand that the fox should keep to the road for a mile before making across the country; so at first the whole field were well together clattering and rattling down the hill at a pace so swift that good care was demanded on the part of the riders to keep the horses from coming into collision.
Down the slope, through the shallow stream running across the road in the hollow, up the rise on the further side, and away along a level flat on the crest of the hill, till many of the young fellows in uniform were shouting from sheer exuberance of spirits. We found ourselves borne along at a gait that sent the blood flying through our veins. The day was fine, a fresh breeze, which swept across the veldt, agreeably tempering the rays of the sun, which at that hour is decidedly hot. Small particles of the paper lying along the road and the bushes that fringed it served to stimulate our exertions, and the whole cavalcade kept merrily on till we came to the point where a large patch of paper, lying in the centre of the road, warned us that the chase had turned off.
Here the larger part of the field deserted us, preferring to keep along the road, which led in a tolerably direct line to the rendezvous, and take their chances of sighting the hunt from occasional vantage grounds. But all the more ardent sportsmen scorned to take advantage of the highway when the scent led them away from it, and twenty or more elected to follow the fox.
The paper led us for a mile or more along the upper edge of a deep kloof, which looked dark and forbidding as we gazed down into its depths, seeing only the tops of the trees, with which it was literally crammed. The scent had been cast with a generous hand, and we rushed along, feeling intoxicated with the exhilarating exercise and the glorious air. All at once our leader reined in his horse, and we saw the trail had suddenly taken a sharp turn to the right, crossing a small stream, and disappearing over the brow of a hill on the opposite side.