As we approached, we were saluted with the loud barking of a hound that had been unchained, and who seemed ready to rush upon his unexpected prey, so that we hardly dared to advance one step. At last a man made his appearance at the door of the house, with a lantern in his hand, speedily followed by the whole family, anxious to learn who could be in the neighbourhood at so late an hour. We handed him the letter, which we begged him to read, and requested to know whether we could be received for the night. We were at once admitted, and speedily found a most cordial welcome. We were shown into apartments very plainly furnished, but neat, and scrupulously clean, after which we were invited to join the household at supper. It was a very numerous family. The father and mother, genuine Dutch figures, sat at the head of a long table; next to whom sat the son-in-law, who had married the eldest daughter, and then commingled with each other, the sons and daughters that were as yet unmarried. They all seemed hearty and healthy, and their indurated hands were the best diploma of their industry. The youngest son said a short prayer; after which venison, potatoes, mutton, vegetables, bread, butter, and cheese were set down in huge dishes, besides which two bottles of Cape wine, of their own manufacture, went the round of the table. Although this place had been only settled four years previously, an immense deal had been already accomplished by this stirring, cheerful family to make the soil thoroughly productive, and render the house habitable. Even a small garden had been laid out in front of the dwelling-house.
The chief article of cultivation in the valley is the grape, for wine manufacture, which must in this place return a very handsome profit.
From Renden to Genaaden Dal is a four-hours' journey. The road passes by Donker's Hoek, a tolerably high mountain, to ascend the summit of which cost our horses some strenuous exertion, although we marched a considerable distance on foot. A wide belt of sandstone formation presented a marvellous display of flowers, and gave us in little an idea of the South African Karroos, a series of terraced clay-patches, estimated at from 3000 to 4000 feet high, which, hard and steppe-like in the dry season, are speedily transformed in the rainy season into smiling, flower-bespangled plains, quite sponge-like under foot, and rich in alkaline products.[52] We advanced some six hours before reaching another farm-house. This was known as Kleene Islea Plaats (Little Island Farm), near which flows the Zonderend River (River Without End), the property of a kind and hospitable family of French extraction, whose parents emigrated hither from France during the revolution in 1793. As it was Sunday, the servants had gone to church, so they could only offer us cold mutton, syrup, butter, and bread. Before and after our repast, the devout old lady of the house put up a short petition.
[52] The English appellation "Karroo" seems to be derived from Karusa, signifying "hard" in the Hottentot language, and to refer to a quality appertaining to the clayey substance of which these terraces are composed, by virtue of which the red clay, strongly impregnated with iron, and mixed with sand, becomes in the dry season as hard as burnt clay.
Here, too, we remarked that those born in the country of European parents are called Africans: only the English form an exception to this rule, and remain with persistent patriotic obstinacy, "Englishmen."
The journey from Kleene Islea Plaats to Genaaden Dal is extremely picturesque. One first catches sight of this retired Moravian settlement only when actually entering the place itself, embowered as it is among lofty trees. What a surprise, when, still fancying one's self at a considerable distance from the village, on reaching the end of a beautiful valley at the entrance to Bavian's Kloef, one sweeps by a circuit into the very heart of the settlement. We alighted at what is called "The Lodgment," a house set apart for visitors, and conducted by a brother, in conformity with the laws of the community.
The dwellings of the Hottentots lie scattered among the rising grounds in the neighbourhood, and with their poverty-stricken aspect impart a somewhat melancholy impression. These are built of loam, low in the roof, as though intended for a stunted race of men, and rarely have windows, so that the door is, generally speaking, the largest aperture in the entire building. Our Malay driver laughed at them, and called them oete kripp (oxen stalls).
HOTTENTOT HUTS AT GENAADENDAL.