RAINBOWS OF EAST GRIQUALAND 269 
tainous scenery rejoices the eye. One feels, as it 
were, in the presence of primeval shapings, nature 
in her rude beginnings, and then—Ugie! Justa 
stationmaster’s cottage and the limited structures 
attached to a small rural railway station, together 
with a few trees, that is Ugie, baldly described. 
No hamlet can be seen, for it is a good half-mile 
away, concealed below a slope. The event of the 
day is the arrival of the train. Ugie station was 
explained by a dweller on the spot: “ After the 
train has gone, it is the silence of death.” 
To the town-dweller, weary of bricks and 
mortar, of the rushing motor-car and its offspring 
the motor-bicycle, of clanging tramcar and of 
unceasing telephone, this is just the place ; to him, 
seeking rest, it is not the silence of death, but of 
tranquillity and content. Inhaling grateful gulps 
of oxygen, he gains strength as he communes with 
mother nature. 
All the while, though, he wonders, What of 
the rivers? Whatofthetrout? The first river is 
the Wildebeeste (fishing this and other local rivers 
necessitates a ten-shilling licence), which is only a 
couple of hundred yards from the hotel at Ugie, 
and the spot one’s mind first fastens on is the big 
bridge, a worthy piece of workmanship by the 
Public Works Department of its day, The village 
is just a large farmhouse, as it were ; and the day 
on which we arrived was Ugie’s washing day, which 
means that Kaffir women were busy doing laundry 
work in the river, just by the bridge. At this spot 
there seemed likely places for trout ; but the coloured 
