Page:Wanderings of a Pilgrim Vol 2.djvu/355

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away by the fishermen, which they picked up—it was a pretty sight.

The mountains certainly are very wild and beautiful; there is vegetation to the top of Table Mountain, 3500 feet. Landowr, on which I formerly lived, is 7500 feet above the sea; and that is covered with fine trees, and vegetation of all kinds, all over the summit.

At Constantia, at Mr. Vanrennon's vineyard, his wife complained greatly of the emancipation of the slaves: some of them were unwilling to be free, some of them were glad that freedom procured them idleness; their wages being high and food cheap, the emancipated people will only work now and then. The slaves collect in Cape Town, they work for a week, the wages of seven days will supply them with rice and fish for a length of time; and until forced by necessity, they will not work again. They will prepare the land, but when the harvest is to be cut, they will not cut it unless you give them a sum far beyond their wages; and if you refuse to submit to the imposition, the crops must rot on the ground. The thatching on the houses at Constantia is most beautifully done, so correct and regular, and every thing there looks neat, and clean, and happy.

There are several sorts of grapes at the Cape, the purple, and the white Pontac grape, of which the Constantia wine is made. The white sweet pod, a long grape; the sweet water, a round white grape; and a round purple grape;—they are all very fine. The medical men prescribe nothing to old Indians but grapes, grapes, as many as they can eat; that is the only medicine recommended, and the best restorative after calomel and India. The Hindoos, as they call us Indians at the Cape, approve highly of the prescription. The Cape horses, which are fine, and the cows, delighted me; there were some excellent and strong mules also. The delights of shore after having been cooped up in a ship, only those who have made a long voyage and have suffered from mal de mer can understand; or the pleasure of roaming at large on the quiet, firm earth, the sweet smell of the fields, no bilge water, no tar, no confinement.

A friend of mine, a Bengal civilian, gave a good account of