The morning we were leaving Mrs. Lund sent some of her servants to gather wildflowers for us. The wildflowers of South Africa were showy and bright. We saw two camels, equipped for a journey in the desert, with their Arabian drivers. It was February 24 when we landed there, and the climate seemed very, like that of South Australia, only the tract of country I saw looked dark. The poor old jetty or landing-place was very primitive. The wood part of the jetty, from its appearance, must have been very old. It seemed worm-eaten, and long moss was growing on it. They have built a breakwater within the last few years, which comes out in the sea thousands of feet, and in the stormy weather it is a great protection. I scarcely knew what to take note of first. I saw any quantity of donkeys in harness, and all sorts of strange-looking conveyances.
While ashore it was all spare time to me, for there was only sightseeing and writing to do. At every turn there was something to make one think, if it was only to see some sailors eagerly clutching in their arms some ostrich feathers as they made haste to get to their ships. Mr. H. M. Stanley, the African explorer, had been at Cape Town just a little while before, and from the many different photographs of him and his mixed troops one saw he must have been on a good many occasions in Cape Town while attempting to find Dr. Livingstone. I was ardent concerning every object about Dr. Livingstone. Ever since I could remember I had heard him spoken of in Scotland. I bought all the portraits of those two grand men that I could afford, and took them to my friends in Scotland.
The buildings were most beautiful. But Table Mountain was the charm to me. I could not keep my eyes off it. There was open war going on at Natal, which brought such numbers of people to the Cape. That was why Mrs. Lund's sister was there. Table Bay looked as active as if the hostilities were there. One could constantly see the warships coming in or going out. One ship came in the day we left with, I forget how many, widows of the soldiers who had been slain at Natal. They were taking those poor women to St. Helena. It was a sad sight. I saw that the decks of the ship were crowded with women without any hats but only a handkerchief tied round their heads.
Two things were stamped on my mind that day to remember for ever. One was to see those sad-looking women; and the other was when Mr. Harris went to pay Mrs. Lund for me. She would not charge anything for me. Truly I was one who ventured out without gold or scrip. The woman meant to be kind, but I realised the old motto, "Owe no man anything." It was a new experience to me. I always did like to be free from obligation. This unusual sympathy gave a human interest to the last glimpse of loveliness that stretched out and about as far as the eye could see as we got on board the old familiar ship again.
I was back to active work once more, and I was glad to see the little tiny boy again. Now let come what may it was felt we would soon be in London. Things ran all in the same groove, and sometimes the quiet grew oppressive in a pause of the wind. We did not have the Rev. Charles Clark after leaving the Cape. It made such a difference. All were now talking about where they were going when they got to England. I was asked where I was going; I did not quite know.
The only incident of any interest occurred when the ship anchored one Sunday morning at St. Helena. Only the captain and the first mate went ashore. We were so close that the people on shore could be seen. That was the place to which they were taking those women we had seen a week before. The island was a fortress in times of peace; the chief interest was Napoleon's tomb and the Jacob's Ladder, from the shore to the upper part of the island. How far away those times seem, and yet I saw by "The Advertiser" this morning (as I write) that Mr. R. S. Smythe still trips to and fro. He was the active manager for the Rev. Charles Clark in Cape Town at the time of the events with which I am dealing in this story. He has been there on the same kind of work since then.
The captain began to have some cleaning and painting done to the ship before getting in to London. Some pots of white paint were left about on the deck. The steward had a live kangaroo, which he was taking home to exhibit, I suppose. It was in a place on the deck, and the little boy whom nobody owned thought he would make the kangaroo think that the white paint was milk. The animal sipped some and died. It was mischievous of the child and for him it was a rude awakening. He had to keep very quiet all the rest of the way.
I had nothing to complain of all the way. I was healthy. I loved to use my strength and tired myself out, there being so much to think about and wonder at; but I know that I was not happy. I was hardly ever idle. Mr. and Mrs. Harris were the first to leave the ship when it reached Plymouth, or Falmouth, I do not remember which. The ship travelled along so gently and had the Isle of Wight in view so well. Then came the River Thames. How careful the captain was all through that wonderful river; we could hear his clear strong voice above the fog-horn as we passed through so many other ships into the London docks.