July 1, 1S67-1 



HARDWICKE'S SCIENCE. G O SSI P. 



155 



surface, and for more than a mile we followed 

 every bend and indentation of the coast-line. 



On our left rose a range of abrupt and occasionally 

 lofty sand-hills, varying: much in height and form, 

 but nevertheless uniting in a sort of chain from 

 the high laud at Panmure to the extent of our vision 

 along the shore, excepting where a ravine, through 

 which the "Blind River" flows slowly seaward, 

 cuts deeply into the surface of the country. This 

 river possesses a considerable stream of water; but 

 its outlet, if it has one, is invisible — hence its name ; 

 and the dense, solid-looking beach offers a seem- 

 ingly perpetual barrier between it and the wild, 

 fierce sea without. Its banks are pretty, and pictu- 

 resqucly adorned with shrubs and other lesser 

 plants, and the water is clear and bright-looking. 



All the hills in this neighbourhood are apparently 

 composed of white sea-sand, and covered with a 

 peculiar succulent vegetation, amongst which the 

 Hottentot fig (Mesembryanthemum edule) abounds, 

 as well as another thick-leaved plant, at present 

 crowded with bright red berries, which are strikiugly 

 handsome and conspicuous. Trees of any magni- 

 tude are few and far between, but the lesser forest 

 is dense and luxuriant — indeed in some places almost 

 impenetrable. The rock of the coast is of a most 

 peculiar formation — sand and comminuted shells, 

 which have been agglutinized by the action of the 

 waves. It is exceedingly rough and honey-combed, 

 and presents the most varied and singular ap- 

 pearances, — here piled in long thin cones, like the 

 smaller pinnacles of an ice-field; there offering a 

 curious resemblance to the tall ruins of some castel- 

 lated structure rising from the naked sand ; and, 

 again, displaying large rents and chasms, which may 

 almost be called caverns from their size aud forma- 

 tion. The surface throughout is rough, and pro- 

 fusely armed with sharp edges, which are most 

 unpleasant to walk over, to say nothing of the 

 limpets and other shells that cover it below tide- 

 mark in myriads. The greater portion of the rock — 

 that is to say, all above high-water mark — is literally 

 naked, not even a lichen being visible to break the 

 uniformity of the brownish-grey hue, which pervades 

 it throughout. 



About a mile or so beyond the large sand-hill, we 

 arrived at the object of our expedition, the Bats' 

 Cave, which is, indeed, very curious and interesting. 

 It is an enormous rent or opening in the rock, of 

 between thirty and forty feet in length, by perhaps 

 twenty in width, and rather less in height, with 

 rough aud jagged sides, and an irregularly arched 

 roof, honey-combed and uneven in appearance, like 

 all the rest of this peculiar coast formation. It 

 does not run in its general direction, as we expected, 

 at right angles to the shore-line, but rather parallel 

 to it, and the entrance is on the landward side, very 

 nearly facing the town of East London. In its 

 immediate vicinity there are some immense masses 



of rock scattered about, just as if some giant hand 

 had thrown them there at random, aud one of 

 these stands nearly across the opening, at the dis- 

 tance of about twenty yards. It resembles in a 

 slight degree a rough, irregular gateway, with the 

 aperture corresponding so nearly in shape to the 

 mouth of the cave as to give one the idea that it 

 had at one time been the true entrance, aud that 

 some convulsion of nature had removed a large piece 

 of the rock forming the roof and outward side, and 

 thus disconnected the two parts. The flooring, if 

 I may so use the term, of the cavern consists of a 

 series of little rocky basins, full of the most 

 pellucid sea-water, green and brilliant as emerald, 

 in which are growing most luxuriantly several kinds 

 of beautiful seaweeds, as well as splendid Actinice 

 and elegant Serlularice of various species. Round 

 the edges of these little tidal pools, the projecting 

 rock afforded comparatively dry but slippery foot- 

 ing to those who wished to explore the mysteries of 

 the interior, and one of our party availed himself of 

 the opportunity. Instead of disturbing multitudes 

 of bats, as we expected, however, some dozen or so 

 of red-winged Spreeuws [Lamprotornis morio) came 

 flitting out of the darkness, apparently exceedingly 

 astonished at our intrusion amongst their wild 

 domains, and exclaiming loudly at our presence, an 

 employment in which they were ably assisted by a 

 number of Giant Kingfishers (Alceclo gigantea), and 

 two or three of the smaller and commoner kind, the 

 lovely Halcyon- capensis, whose splendid plumage 

 flashed in the sunlight like burnished metal. A few 

 Sanderlings (Calidris arenaria) were running about 

 aud feeding close to the edges of the waves, and 

 here and there, flitting from rock to rock, fearless 

 and confiding as ever, were some of the little wag- 

 tails of the country (Motacilla capensis). 



By the time we had finished our explorations, the 

 tide was beginning to return, aud the surf was 

 breaking within a few yards of where we stood. 

 The noise of the waves as they crashed upon the 

 rocks and hard sandy beach, added to the wildness 

 of a scene at all times striking from its peculiar 

 loneliness, and the screams of a couple of startled 

 curlew (Numenius arquatd) seemed not unfitting 

 accompaniments to the roar of the seething ocean. 



Dog Life. — It is a curious thing that dogs, 

 which cannot only learn of man, but show such 

 natural cunning, should yet never seem to teach 

 one another. Probably they accept an accomplish- 

 ment as an instinct. They don't know that they 

 learn, do not notice their progress. Did you ever 

 consider what an isolated life a dog leads ? He is 

 occupied mainly with the passing moment ; he rarely 

 meditates or looks forward ; he seldom listens 

 except when spoken to. No wonder, poor fellow, 

 that he delights to bark and bite ; his life would be 

 otherwise dull enough. — Jo?ies's Holiday Papers. 



