A person who has derived his impressions of the physical features of the continent of Africa from books generally concludes that it is either a desert or a tropical wilderness throughout. South Africa combines these two features in such a way that the impression need not be entirely shattered, and yet it is not a truthful one.
South Africa is at once a tropical garden, a waterless desert, a fertile plain, and a mountainous wilderness. It has all the distinctions of soil, climate, and physical features that are to be found anywhere in the world, and yet in three hundred years less than half a million persons have found its variety agreeable enough to become permanent residents. Along the coast country, for one hundred miles inland, the territory is as fertile as any in the world, the climate salubrious, and the conditions for settlement most agreeable. Beyond that line is another area of several hundred miles which consists chiefly of lofty tablelike plateaus and forest-covered mountains.
Farther inland is the Great Karroo, a desert of sombre renown, and beyond that the great rolling plains of the Kimberley region, the Orange Free State, and the Transvaal. Here, during the dry season, the earth is covered with brown, lifeless grass, the rays of the sun beat down perpendicularly, and great clouds of yellow dust obscure the horizon. No trees or bushes are seen in a half-thousand-mile journey, the great broad rivers are waterless, and the only live objects are the lone Boer herders and their thirsty flocks.
A month later the rainy season may commence, and then the landscape becomes more animated. Rains, compared with which the heaviest precipitations of the north temperate zone are mere drizzles, continue almost incessantly for weeks; the plain becomes a tropical garden, and the traveller sees some reasons for that part of the earth's creation.
In the midst of these plains, and a thousand miles from the Cape of Good Hope, are the gold mines of the Randt, richer than California and more valuable than the Klondike. The wonder is that they were ever discovered, and almost as marvellous is it that any one should remain there sufficiently long to dig a thousand feet below the surface to secure the hidden wealth. Farther north are the undeveloped countries, Mashonaland and Matabeleland, the great lakes, and the relics of the civilization that is a thousand years older than ours.
According to the American standard, the most uninhabitable part of South Africa is the Transvaal, that inland territory of sun and plain, which has its only redeeming feature in its underground wealth. Had Nature placed her golden treasure in the worthless Kalahari Desert, it would have been of easier access than in the Transvaal, and worthy of a plausible excuse. But, excluding the question of gold, no one except the oppressed Boers ever had the weakest reason for settling in countries so unnatural, unattractive, and generally unproductive as the Transvaal and the Orange Free State.
Cape Colony and Natal, the two British colonies on the coast, are the direct opposites of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State in physical and climatic conditions. The colonies are comfortably settled, the soil is marvellously productive, negro labour is cheap, and everything combines to form the foundation for a great nation.
Cape Town, the city where every one is continually awaiting the arrival of the next mail steamer from England, and the capital of Cape Colony, is a modern city of fifty thousand inhabitants, mostly English. It was the metropolis of the country until Johannesburg was born in a day, and caused it to become a mere point in transit. The city has electric lights, electric street railways, fine docks, excellent railways into the interior, and all the other attributes of an English city, with the possible exception that it requires a four-weeks' passage to reach London.
It is a city of which Englishmen are proud, for its statue of Queen Victoria is beautiful, the Government society is exclusive, "Tommy Atkins" is there in regiments, and the British flag floats on every staff. Cape Town, too, is the home of the politicians who manage the Colonial Office, which in turn has charge of the South African colonial affairs. Two cable lines lead from South Africa to London, and both dive into the ocean at Cape Town, where live Cecil J. Rhodes, Sir Alfred Milner, and the other politicians who furnish the cablegrams and receive the replies. Farther north on the east coast, about three days' sail around the Cape, is the colony of Natal, peaceful, paradisaical, and proud. Taken by conquest from the Zulus a half century ago, it has already distanced its four-times-older competitor, Cape Colony, in almost all things that pertain to the development of a country. Being fifteen hundred miles farther from London than Cape Town, it has escaped the political swash of that city, and has been able to plough its own path in the sea of colonial settlement.
Almost all of Natal is included in the fertile coast territory, and consequently has been able to offer excellent inducements to intending settlers. The majority of these have been Scotchmen of sturdy stock, and these have established a diminutive Scotland in South Africa, and one that is a model for the entire continent. Within the last year the colony has annexed the adjoining country of the Zulus, which, even if it accomplishes nothing more practical, increases the size of the colony. Durban, the entry port of the colony, is the Newport of South Africa, as well as its Colorado Springs. Its wide, palm-and-flower-fringed streets, its 'ricksha Zulus, its magnificent suburbs, and its healthful climate combine to make Durban the finest residence city on the Dark Continent. Pietermaritzburg, the capital of the colony, on the other hand, has nothing but its age to commend it. The colony produces vast quantities of coffee, tea, sugar, and fruits, almost all of which is marketed in Johannesburg, in the Transvaal, which is productive of nothing but gold and strife.