68 KLOOF AND KARROO. 



next morning, he gazed contemptuously on Bob and 

 myself, grovelling in our lowly " doss." 



We were awakened at six o'clock by Sallie, the 

 little Kaffir housemaid, who, entering noiselessly with 

 bare feet, brought us each the usual early morning 

 cup of coffee, without which no Cape colonist begins 

 the day. A cheery breakfast party was ours, three 

 quarters of an hour afterwards, and then, the inevi- 

 table pipes being lit, we discussed the programme, 

 and it was settled that we should have a quiet look 

 round that day, and hunt klipspringer on the 

 following. Strolling out of doors, we three visitors 

 once more gazed with curious and even wondering 

 eyes on the strange scenes that lay stretched before 

 us. Deeply set in the heart of the sombre yet 

 magnificent Witteberg range, our home and abiding 

 place for some months to come was a good example 

 of a remote pastoral farm in Cape Colony. The 

 name Naroekas, or Naroogas, is of Bushman origin. 



Here, in a wild and sequestered valley, lived our 

 friends, who occupied a mountain farm of 18,000 

 morgen — about 36,000 acres. The farmhouse was 

 single-storied, roomy, square, and flat-roofed, and 

 was built of Kaffir bricks and whitewashed. It lay 

 on the mountain-side near a constant stream or 

 fountain, and overlooked the pass called Naroekas 

 Poort. The scenery around was of a wild and 

 savage beauty ; huge brown mountains, broken here 

 and there into thickly bushed kloof and ravine, 

 reared their heads on every side. Although quan- 

 tities of lovely flowers and shrubs blossomed around 

 us, the poort, from its sombre desolation and lack of 

 human life, possessed a peculiar solemnity and 

 gloom, and even on a hunting expedition this feeling 



