Wet, weary, and hungry, we reached Sly Kraal at last. Here we were to rest till Monday; for the waggon conductor would not suffer them to proceed on the Sunday, and we thus passed two nights and a day in the camp.
The kindness of Providence is manifested in providing the South African traveller with wood that is not the less capable of ignition from being wet. Our tents, saturated as they were, were soon pitched; but we were again obliged to sleep in the waggon, which we did most soundly, after a welcome meal of carbonatje (meat toasted on a wooden prong before the fire, or broiled on the ashes), brown bread, and warm negus. The sun burst into the waggon in all his glory, the next morning, and, although within so short a distance of Graham’s Town, I cannot but admit that I was glad of one day’s rest before my entrée into the capital of the frontier. We had, indeed, been so thoroughly knocked up, that, though refreshed by sleep, the having time for ablutions and the selection of clean linen was a great treat on such a journey. The Sabbath of the 12th of March was thus passed in camp. The ground we had taken up reminded me of the grouse moors in Scotland, and in the wildest parts of Yorkshire, and we were told there was abundance of game about; at dinner, indeed, we were regaled with some hare-soup, sent to us from the mess-tent. As we approached the end of our journey, I could not but acknowledge how much better we had got through it than I had anticipated; and, accustomed to judge of things by comparison, to seek content, in fact, by measuring my own case, with that of those who are worse off, rather than those who have more apparent luxuries than myself, I felt thankful, in spite of the anxiety and fatigue I had encountered, for all the benefits bestowed on us; and, while I pondered gratefully, as I rested on cushions spread on a mat within the shadow of the tent, I learned that a poor woman had been confined the evening before, just as the waggons came to their resting-places. I went to visit her immediately, though the sight would have been enough to make one weep, had it not been for the cheerful voice of the poor soldier’s wife herself. She sat up in the waggon with her husband’s cloak and a blanket under her for a bed, a small red handkerchief round her neck, her new-born infant in her arms, and three other children gathered round her. But, oh! the kind voices and ready hands which helped and cheered her! and, instead of repining at her fatigue and trouble, she looked up at the sky, and observed, “it was a blessed, gladsome day.” I left her, satisfied that that wretched vehicle contained lighter hearts than many a darkened room, where closed shutters and costly draperies shut out the noise of the uncaring world, and the glare of a too saucy sun from the heirs of vast possessions.
On Monday, at six o’clock we started on the last day’s march, and reached the hill above Graham’s Town, a little before nine a.m. Here we were met by crowds of Hottentot women: some of them young, rather pretty, and decidedly graceful. They came bounding on to meet the drums and fifes, and with their red-handkerchief head-dresses, gay-coloured clothes, and glittering ornaments, formed a picturesque group, as they danced on in front of the battalion, to the great entertainment of the soldiers. At the very top of the hill, the band of the Cape Mounted Rifles awaited our approach; their appearance, in their plumed shakos and scarlet trousers, being very showy. A little further on, we were met by the band of the 91st (attached to the first battalion), and that of the 75th; and in this gay order we entered Graham’s Town, the bands relieving each other, and playing the liveliest airs. Here, a Hottentot woman tossed her arms aloft, and spun round to the tune of “Nix my dolly, pals,” there, a driver snapped his fingers to “Rory O’More.” These two tunes, and the “Sprig of shillelah,” seemed their especial favourites; and, if the dancers did not move with the stateliness of Taglioni, or the airy grace of Cerito, they certainly rivalled them in the activity of their limbs and the steadiness of their heads; for they whirled round and round, like the Dervishes in the Arabian Nights. The sun illuminated the town, lying within its sheltering circle of hill and mountain, the rabble shouted welcome, and all looked glad as they approached their destination (although only a temporary one for some of us), and the well-spread table, and cleanly appearance of the apartments provided, truly gave promise of “ease in mine inn.”
Note 1. This fine jetty was destroyed in a gale of wind, in 1847, by a ship, which, having broken from her moorings, was driven, stern foremost, right through the fabric. The unfortunate crew, jumping from the ship to the lower end of the jetty, had congratulated themselves on their escape from the raging waves, when another vessel coming in contact with the wood-work, carried the whole of it away with its unhappy and ill-starred freight into the boiling surge beneath!
Note 2. It is very unsafe, when travelling in Southern Africa, to trust to procuring anything on the road; such a chance is very uncertain. Milk, boiled with plenty of white sugar, will keep good if bottled, for three days at least.