are not more lazy than men of such a race may be expected to be. They are not stupid, nor, as I think, habitually dishonest. Their morals in other respects do not rank high. Such as they are they should be encouraged in all ways to work for hire. Nothing can be so antagonistic to working as such a collection of them as that at Pacaltsdorp, where each has land assigned to him just sufficient to enable him to live,—with the assistance of a little stealing. As for church services there are quite enough for their wants in the neighbourhood, of various denominations. The only excuse for such an establishment would be the existence of a good school. But here there was none. Pacaltsdorp is I believe more than half a century old. When it was commenced the people probably had no civilizing influences round them. Now the Institution hardly seems to be needed.

From George I went over the Montague Pass to Oudtshoorn. My travels hitherto had chiefly been made with the view of seeing people and studying the state of the country, and at this time, as I have explained above, my task was nearly completed. But now I was in search of the picturesque. It is not probable that many tourists will go from England to South Africa simply in quest of scenery. The country is not generally attractive, and the distances are too long. But to those who are there, either living in the Colony, or having been carried thither in search of health or money, the district of which I am now speaking offers allurements which will well repay the trouble of the journey. I am bound however to say that the beauties of this region cannot be seen at a cheap rate. Travelling in South Africa is costly. The week which I spent in the neighbourhood of George cost me £30, and would have cost me much more had I been alone. And yet I was not overcharged. The travellers

in South Africa are few in number, and it is much travelling which makes cheap travelling.

Montague Pass is a road through the Outiniqua mountains,—which was made by Mr. White and called by the name of Mr. Montague who was the Colonial Secretary when the line was opened. It is very fine, quite equal to some of the mountain roads through the Pyrenees. There are spots on which the traveller will quite forget South African ugliness and dream that he is looking at some favoured European landskip. Throughout the whole of those mountains the scenery must be very grand, as they group themselves with fantastic intermingling peaks, and are green to the top. The ascent from the side nearest to George, which the tourist will probably walk, is about four miles, and the views are varied at almost every step, as is the case in all really fine mountain

scenery.

From the foot of the hill on the side away from George the road to Oudtshoorn passes for about thirty miles through the Karoo. The Karoo is a great Institution in the Cape Colony and consists of enormous tracts of land which are generally devoted to the pasture of sheep. The karoo properly is a kind of shrub which sheep will eat, such as is the salt bush in Australia. Various diminutive shrubs are called "karoo," of which most are aromatic with a rich flavour as of some herb, whereas others are salt. But the word has come to signify a vast flowery plain, which in seasons of drought is terribly arid, over which the weary traveller has often to be dragged day after day without seeing a tree, or a green blade of grass; but which in spring becomes covered with wild flowers. A large portion of the Western Province is called Karoo, and is very tedious to all but sheep. That over which I passed now was "Karoo" only in its produce,

being closely surrounded by mountains. The sheep, however, had in most places given way to ostriches,—feathers at present ruling higher in the world than wool. I could not but hope as I saw the huge birds stalking about with pompous air, which as you approached them they would now and again change for a flirting gait, looking back over their shoulders as they skipped along with ruffled tails;--I have seen a woman do very much the same;that they might soon be made to give place again to the modest sheep.

Oudtshoorn, a place with a most uncomfortably Dutch name, is an uninteresting village about two miles long; which would, at least, be uninteresting were it not blessed with a superlatively good hotel kept by one Mr. Holloway. Mr. Holloway redeems Oudtshoorn, which would otherwise have little to say for its own peculiar self. But it is the centre of a rich farming district, and the land in the valleys around it is very fertile. It must be remembered that fertility in South Africa does not imply a broad area of cultivated land, or even a capacity for it. Agriculture is everywhere an affair of patches, and frequently depends altogether on irrigation. Near Oudtshoorn I saw very fine crops, and others which were equally poor, the difference having been caused altogether by the quantity of water used. The productiveness of South Africa is governed by the amount of skill and capital which is applied to the saving of rain when rain does fall, and to the application of it to the land. when no rain is falling. How far the water sent by God may, with the assistance of science, be made sufficient for the cultivation of the broad plains, I, at least, am unable to say. They who can measure the rainfalls, and the nature of the slopes by which the storms and showers may be led to their appointed places, will after a while

tell us this. But it is patent to all that extensive cultivation in South Africa must depend on irrigation.

I had come to Oudtshoorn chiefly to see the Cango Caves. I wish some of my readers would write the name of the village in order that they may learn the amount of irritation which may be produced by an unfortunately awkward combination of letters. The Cango Caves are 24 miles distant from the place, and are so called after the old name of the district. Here too they make brandy from grapes,-called euphoniously "Old Cango." The vituperative have christened the beverage Cape Smoke. "Now I'll give you a glass of real fine Old Cango," has been said to me more than once. I would strongly advise weak-headed Europeans, not to the manner born, to abstain from the liquor under whatever name it may make its appearance. But the caves may be seen without meddling with the native brandy. We brought ours with us, and at any rate believed that it had come from France.

The road from the village to the caves is the worst, I think, over which wheels were ever asked to pass. A gentleman in Oudtshoorn kindly offered to take us. No keeper of post horses would let animals or a carriage for so destructive a journey. At every terrific jolt and at every struggle over the rocks my heart bled for our friend's property, of which he was justly proud. He abstained even from a look of dismay as we came smashing down from stone to stone. Every now and then we heard that a bolt had given way, but were assured in the same breath that there were enough to hold us together. We were held together; but the carriage I fear never can be used again. The horses perhaps with time may get over their ill usage. We were always going into a river .or going out of it, and the river had succeeded in carry

ing away all the road that had ever been made. Unless the engineers go seriously to work I shall be the last stranger that will ever visit the Cango Caves in a carriage.

I have made my way into various underground halls, the mansions of bats and stalactites. Those near Deloraine in Tasmania are by far the most spacious in ascertained length that I have seen. Those at Wonderfontein in the Transvaal, of which I will speak in the next volume, may be, and probably are, larger still, but they have never been explored. In both of these the stalactites are much poorer in form than in the caves of the Cheddar cliffs,-which however are comparatively small. The Mammoth Caves in Kentucky I have not visited; but I do not understand that the subterranean formations are peculiarly grand. In the Cango Grottoes the chambers are very much bigger than in the Tasmanian Caves. They also have not been fully explored. But the wonderful forms and vagaries of the stalactites are infinitely finer than anything I have seen elsewhere. We brought with us many blue lights,—a sort of luminary which spreads a powerful glare to a considerable distance for three or four minutes, without which it would be impossible to see the shapes around. The candles which we carried with us for our own guidance had little or no effect.

In some places the droppings had assumed the shape of falling curtains. Across the whole side of a hall, perhaps sixty feet long, these would hang in regular pendent drapery, fold upon fold, seeming to be as equal and regular as might be the heavy folds protecting some inner sacred chapel. And in the middle of the folds there would be the entrance, through which priests and choristers and people might walk as soon as the machinery had been put to work and the curtain had been with