Wednesday, January 2.—To-day we thought of going to the potato patches, but the men were playing cricket, and sent to ask Graham to join them, which he did. Afterwards he had his first bathe with them. Their bathing-place is close to the waterfall. It is not possible to go out far owing to sharks.
Thursday, January 3.—Graham and I started off this afternoon for the potato patches, as the people were anxious that we should see the plants in flower. It was not quite such an exertion as we expected. This time of year the plants are often covered with caterpillars, which have to be picked off. If the people would burn the old plants and the weeds each season this pest would be greatly diminished. Unfortunately there are no birds to prey upon the insects.
Monday, January 7.—The next day we went up what is called "Bugsby Hole," a steep mountain slope. It took us a long time to climb, for we did it bit by bit, constantly sitting down. At last we came to what one might perhaps call a pass (it was but a gap) over a narrow-backed ridge. This was the Goat Ridge which Graham had climbed from the other side on Good Friday. We had rather a difficult rock to climb up, but with assistance I managed it. Rob got frightened, and had many leaps before he got up. From this ridge such a lovely scene opened out in the evening light, lofty peaks all around, and below, grassy, fern-covered ravines. It made one almost giddy to look down. The descent appeared appalling, but the ferns were long, and we could get a good foothold in them. As we neared the bottom we picked up a quantity of wood. Some of it rolled into a gulch, and in going after it Graham got "blocked" and had to let himself slide, with the result that he rather hurt his leg. We got home just before dusk, had a supper of bread and milk and coffee, and retired to bed as soon as I had prepared the sponge for baking.
[Illustration: BUGSBY HOLE]
We have started school again after a fortnight's holiday. It is a hot, close day, about the hottest we have had; one comfort is the houses are cool. It is such a pleasure to see the cattle looking so different, really beginning to be in good condition. Their number having been so greatly reduced, there is plenty of grass for them. We have abundance of milk now, but butter is a rare commodity. Some was brought us to-day, and is quite a treat.
Wednesday, January 9.—This day last year we landed at Cape Town.
Yesterday evening we watched the yoking of some oxen which were driven into the yard opposite. Several were being broken in for the first time, and others had not been yoked for many months. One was quite wild, jumping over the wall into the tussock-garden. The two oxen, or steers, to be yoked together are driven into a corner, and the owner of them warily approaches and first puts on the neck of one the wooden collar. Having done this, he waits a minute or two, and then a man behind hands him the heavy cross-beam, one end of which has to be made fast to the collar. This being done, he goes through the same process with the other ox. The affair is no easy one, for any minute the ox may bolt, perhaps with the yoke dangling down over its forelegs. When they are at last ready, their heads are turned towards the entrance, for which they generally make a dash to get out on to the common. Now comes a race. The owner has hold of one of the horns and hangs on, running at topmost speed, till the oxen are out of breath and go more soberly. Some of the animals take the yoking very quietly. They are left yoked for several days; it seems rather hard upon them, but, of course, they have to be broken in.
Friday, January 11.—We are going to keep fowls. I intended to buy some, and spoke to one or two people, but they quite scorned the idea of selling—they would give them. About half-a-dozen have already been promised. Tom Rogers started on the fowl-house to-day. It is to be a wooden one made out of our packing-cases and thatched with tussock.
Wednesday, January 16.—Repetto has been here since Saturday putting up a three-cornered cupboard in the sitting-room. We need it to keep daily stores in. We tried keeping them in the loft, but to run up a ladder every time you want tea, sugar or biscuits is rather tiresome, and the kitchen is too damp for stores.
We have been rearranging the sitting-room. The Indian rugs have come in most usefully; one does as a tablecloth, and the other as a cover for boxes, making a table in the part of the sitting-room we have screened off. They give such a cheerful look to the room. Two or three of the young girls come in every evening of their own accord to help Ellen to wash up. The boys often help in the garden. Ned and little Charlie were helping this evening to shake the earth out of sods of grass. They were so comical over it, tumbling down and bursting into such merry peals of laughter. It reminded me of scenes in Uncle Tom's Cabin.