Six Months at the Cape

Six Months at the Cape, by R.M.
Ballantyne

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Title: Six Months at the Cape
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Release Date: June 6, 2007 [EBook #21704]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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MONTHS AT THE CAPE ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Six Months at the Cape, Letters to his friend Periwinkle, by R.M.
Ballantyne.

LETTER ONE.
"A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE."
South Africa.
Dear Periwinkle,--Since that memorable, not to say miserable, day,
when you and I parted at Saint Katherine's Docks, [see note 1], with the
rain streaming from our respective noses--rendering tears superfluous,
if not impossible--and the noise of preparation for departure damaging
the fervour of our "farewell"--since that day, I have ploughed with my
"adventurous keel" upwards of six thousand miles of the "main," and
now write to you from the wild Karroo of Southern Africa.
The Karroo is not an animal. It is a spot--at present a lovely spot. I am
surrounded by--by nature and all her southern abundance. Mimosa trees,
prickly pears, and aloes remind me that I am not in England. Ostriches,
stalking on the plains, tell that I am in Africa. It is not much above
thirty years since the last lion was shot in this region, [see note 2], and
the kloofs, or gorges, of the blue mountains that bound the horizon are,
at the present hour, full of "Cape-tigers," wild deer of different sorts,
baboons, monkeys, and--but hold! I must not forestall. Let me begin at
the beginning.
The adventurous keel above referred to was not, as you know, my own
private property. I shared it with some two hundred or so of human
beings, and a large assortment of the lower animals. Its name was the
"Windsor Castle"--one of a magnificent line of ocean steamers
belonging to an enterprising British firm.
There is something appallingly disagreeable in leave-taking. I do not
refer now to the sentiment, but to the manner of it. Neither do I hint,
my dear fellow, at your manner of leave-taking. Your abrupt "Well, old
boy, bon voyage, good-bye, bless you," followed by your prompt
retirement from the scene, was perfect in its way, and left nothing to be
desired; but leave-takings in general--how different!
Have you never stood on a railway platform to watch the starting of an

express?
Of course you have, and you have seen the moist faces of those two
young sisters, who had come to "see off" that dear old aunt, who had
been more than a mother to them since that day, long ago, when they
were left orphans, and who was leaving them for a few months, for the
first time for many years; and you have observed how, after kissing and
weeping on her for the fiftieth time, they were forcibly separated by the
exasperated guard; and the old lady was firmly, yet gently thrust into
her carriage, and the door savagely locked with one hand, while the
silver whistle was viciously clapt to the lips with the other, and the last
"goo-ood--bye--d-arling!" was drowned by a shriek, and puff and clank,
as the train rolled off.
You've seen it all, have you not, over and over again, in every degree
and modification? No doubt you have, and as it is with parting
humanity at railway stations, so is it at steamboat wharves.
There are differences, however. After you had left, I stood and
sympathised with those around me, and observed that there is usually
more emotion on a wharf than on a platform--naturally enough, as, in
the case of long sea voyages, partings, it may be presumed, are for
longer periods, and dangers are supposed to be greater and more
numerous than in land journeys,--though this is open to question. The
waiting process, too, is prolonged. Even after the warning bell had sent
non-voyagers ashore, they had to stand for a considerable time in the
rain while we cast off our moorings or went through some of those
incomprehensible processes by which a leviathan steamer is moved out
of dock.
After having made a first false move, which separated us about three
yards from the wharf--inducing the wearied friends on shore to brighten
up and smile, and kiss hands, and wave kerchiefs, with that energy of
decision which usually marks a really final farewell--our steamer
remained in that position for full half an hour, during which period we
gazed from the