A CAPE CART JOURNEY. 37 



only in the distance by the great Sneeuwberg range, 

 we began to approach the first goal of our journey, 

 Graaff Reinet. Shortly before reaching the bend of 

 the Sunday River, which almost completely girdles 

 that town, and has to be crossed at a dangerous drift, 

 we passed a flock of ostriches, driven by a Kaffir boy, 

 marching along in stately procession. These birds 

 are frequently driven about — if at all difficult to 

 manage — with leather thongs passed round the chest 

 and under the wings ; they are then guided with little 

 trouble by two men. We had now to effect the 

 rough and difficult passage of the Sunday River, 

 whose bed, now that the water was low, showed 

 plainly the huge boulders and deep holes that beset 

 travellers crossing these drifts. 



We could at length behold the quaint and 

 delightful town that lay before us basking in the 

 clear spring sunshine. Lapped in peaceful repose, 

 clad in verdure, backed by the towering masses of 

 mighty Sneeuwberg, beneath which it nestles, and 

 having an abundant water supply from the river as it 

 runs by, well has it been christened by travellers of 

 old " the gem of the desert." For to the wanderers 

 wearied by drouthy, baking, summer treks across the 

 burning karroos that everywhere encircle it, this, to 

 my mind, the most charming and characteristic old 

 Dutch town in all South Africa, must have seemed a 

 veritable paradise. 



At the drift (ford) of the river, before getting into 

 the town, the banks are extremely steep, and the 

 descent is a long and protracted one. Bob, who 

 was driving the buggy, let his horses have their head 

 a little too freely in making the descent. They 

 quickly degenerated from a trot to a gallop, and 



