The Traveller.

Otago Witness, Issue 1501, 21 August 1880, Page 9

The Traveller.

SOUTH APRIOA.

The following io an extract from a letter written by Mr W. R. Bull, formerly a resident in Wanganui, and engaged on the staff of the local Herald. The letter is dated King Williamstown, South Africa, 16fch June :■—

You may feel interested to know what I think of this Colony as compared with New Zealand, but I have really seen so little of it that I am hardly able to form an opinion one way or the other. I am not, like Mr Trollope, able to tell the inhabitants of a country more than they know about it themBelves after a three weeks' scamper through it, and besides, I have not been scampering about. I will, however, tell you what my opportunities have been, and then perhaps you can form an opinion about my opinion, and please yoursself as to the conclusion. From the deck of the schooner whioh brought me over I beheld the roof of one house forming part of the town of Durban. I did not land there. By steamer I came on to Easb London, and the bar being impracticable even for the lifeboat, I was transferred, over a heavy sea, to another steamer waiting to discharge cargo. I had the pleasure of studying that thriving seaport from the outside during three whole days. All this time it was blowing big guns, and the spray from the surf gave a ghostly appearance to the coast which made it anything but inviting. Having experienced a tremendous gale, accompanied by the moat awful thunderstorm it has ever been my misfortune to encounter, just as we were inakiDg Natal, I could not somehow keep out of my head pictuies of all the quiet loveliness I had seen in New Zealand—such as Wellington when the wind doesn't blow, Wanganui when it does not rain, Taranaki when the dust is where it ought to be, and so on. It was not till I landed that 1 remembered that the scenery is often set in a pretty rough framing even in New Zealand. However, to go on with my opportunities, when I did got to land I slept one night at East London, came on by train next day to King William's Town (40 miles in three hours). Every morning since I have walked three-quarters of a mile from the houss to the store, and every night I have walked back again, always on ths same line of road. On Sundays I have changed the route for part of the distance only, and penetrated farther into the hearb of the country in order to go to church. That is all I know by experience of South Africa, except that once I went a 10-mile drive, and I have not seen a lion, nor an elephant, nor a snake, nor a Kaffir in his war-paint, nor anything but the four walls of the store. Ia the store I did one day see a tarantula, but I was ia too mucb. of a hurry to make room for the gentleman to pass to take much notice Qjf him. He appeared to be a little larger than my boot— in fact he must have beea, otherwise I should of course have annihilated him. Naturally I thought that if I only happened to tread on his toe he would get angry and assault me. I cannot say anything about Durban, because I hardly feel equal to forming an opinion with only one roofing tile for the foundation. I have an idea, though, about the shipping ports iv this Colony. Ido not think much oE them, or like them ; in facb, the wonder is how trade or travelling can be carried on under such disadvantnges. It says something for British pluck that these and other difficulties have not been allowed to stand in the way. You are doubtless aware that there are only two ports in all the Colony which can pretend to be natural ports at all. They are Cape Town and Port .Natal. Of course I know nothing about the former, but to enable you to judge of the excellence of Port Natal, I may say that my cbip of a schooner, only 280 tons, had to anchor in the road&tend and discharge 100 tons of cargo before she could attempt th« bar. The skipper knew the place well, and from what he told me I should imagine Wanganui to be fully equal to the secondbest port at the Cape so far as the entrance is concerned, and a great deal better once a vessel ia inside. Port Elizabeth, ranking next, is really no port at all, bub simply a good anohorage on the coast of whioh it ia possible io. certain states of weather to

effect a landing. The port of East London is still in nubibus, but very extensive works are being carried on, which will make the place equal to all requirements when completed, and it is even hoped that goodsized vessels may be able to anchor in the river. At present the entrance is obstructed by a bar which only allows tags of light draught to cross at the best of times, while in bad weather it is impassable for days together. Vessels discharge cargo outside, and the landing or embarking of unfortunate travellers ia a venture to be long remembered by them, not only for discomfort, but for positive danger. Such is the sea-gate to British Kaffraria. In spite of all its drawbacks it is still, in theatrical parlance, a praocical doorway ; and all the trade of the interior, which is considerable, passes through it. The town of East London resembles Eden in one respect— l mean Mark Tapley's Eden- it looks best on the map. It is a most confusing place to a stranger, because there are two to sms, as it were, on opposite baaks of a river. They are called East Londou East and East London West, so that one has to bo pretty well acquainted with the points of the compass before he can find bis way about. One of these sections is the old town, all going to ruin, and the other is the new town, not yet built. No man has been able to decide which Is the uglier, though the new town will no doubt be handsome enough. I was told that at least the hotels of the future are to be wonders of comfort and luxury. That they are not so now I can testify, for I went to the best hotel in the place and found only a rambling block of one storey, wretchedly built round three sides of a square which had started as a garden, but had degenerated to a waste space for the recaption of all kinds of garbage, broken bottles, empty tin cans, old saucepans, and other rubbish. Another unfortunate traveller and myself were invited to refit for the night in a room containing three very shaky-looking beds, with the shadiest linen on them that I ever saw. Perhaps the colour may have come off the nigger who made the beds, but I would rather have roosted all night on a wire fenoe than have slept in them. For the accommodation of three persona, a broken washsfcand with a broken ewer and basin of the commonest description were provided. There was also a sickening smell, partly left by the previous occupants, and partly proceeding from an innar room which opened into what was to have been ours, and contained five more beds. I did not wait to find any fi'Oßh horrors, but flsd instanter, and af ter_ some trouble found a room in a new building which, was passable. Immediately on landing I became aware that our " coloured brethren " belong to a powerful race— judged by the senßeof smell. They are an unwashed, lazy, but goodhumoured set, capable of being happy all their lives on a handful of mealies andthe smell of an oil rag per diem. With a little careful training they make very fair servants, but a peculiarity about them is that no matter how well disposed they may bo, a kind of home sickneasj steals over them iv about a twelvemonth, and they go back to their native wilds, returning sometimes after a few weekn as though nothing had happened, but in the majority of cases finding new masters They are very amusing in thedr ways, conducting themselves a good deal in the style of Messrs Moore and Burgess. To see a Kaffir who has just possessed himself of a new pair of boots Btrut aad swagger down the str3et, with all the rest of him in rags which hardly hold together, is funny enough to raise a laugh from a mummy. The women appear to have a great passion for dress, particularly affecting bright, showy prints, and attaining supreme happiness when they have built half-a-dozen gaily coloured handkerchiefs on their heads, to the height of a grenadier's bearskin. These people are nothing like the Maoris either in spirit or demeanor. They are as playful and grotesque as a troop of monkeys, make about as much bounce and noise, but aro infinitely more servile, clearing out of the road when a white man comes along in much the same way that a cur does when he fears the la3h. Kindness or consideration they do not appear to understand, making any such demonstration _ a pretext for the most outrageous presumption. The only way to get along with them is by a system of good-humoured bossing, plenty of chaff, and an occasional show of the stick, That is the portrait of my new coloured brother, and what the Mission schools and other civilising influences are going to do with him is more than the wisest can tell. King William's Town, though it has not much to boast of in architecture, is not by any moans a bad little place, and much bbtter ths*n I had expected to find. It covers a great deal of ground, owing to a largo space being occupied by military barracks and large squares, the latter rendered necessary for turning bullock drays, -which invariably have a long string of 10 to 12 oxen in them. The populatiou I should take to be under 5000, a third native, with a large sprinkling of Germans amongst the Europeans. ? The streets are about as well formed as in any other Colonial town, and the houses, brick built, compare favourably with what I have seen elsewhere, though there ia no eleganoe about them, aud some of the older ones bear a strong family resemblance to cowoheds, owing to thatched rooffl and primitive verandahs. There is a fine hospital callod after Sir Geerge Grey, who founded it, fair public buildings, and a town hill, which is the cauee of as many anathemas a* your own place of assembly, though it is not quite so bad. A creek callod the Buffalo River runs on one side of the town, and is a source of much complacency to the inhabitants, who try their best not to drink it dry every year, but hardly Bucceed. Water is at a premium in this country, though there would ba no difficulty in storing it artificially at various points during the rainy season, With regard to the atopies of the place, they are wool, mohair, and ostrich feathers, of whioh large quantities have recently been brought in. The impetus to trade has been, however, scarcely perceptible, the farmers having been so crippled by the late fighting, whioh took place within sight of the town. That reminds me that there are two crops of wool every year, and making allowance for the effeots of war, the country settlers appear to make a good thing of it in spite of Kaffir I

thieves, beasts of prey, reptiles, poisonous herbs and insects, drought, and various other drawbacks. The natives who will not pull with us are being driven farther into the Interior every year, and I Bee no reason why European settlement should not succeed. Grain does not flourish in the immediate neighbourhood of this town, but at Queenstown, farther north, where the climate ia colder, large crops are raised, and now that means of transport have been improved by the opening of the railway from Quaenstown to East London, it is anticipated that the production will largely increase. With regard to the country itself, the little I have seen of it looks very like New Zealand. There is the same broken, mountainous surface, with dark-coloured bush, rather stunted, by the way, about here, and since the cold weather began there has been a much livelier appearance of grass than I had espeoted. On my arrival, early in February, the summer waa just; drawing to a close, and there werß some days of intolerable heat, when strong hot winds blew with an intensity sufficient almost to set things afire. That was followedby five or six weeks of continuous rain and thunderstorms. Since then we have revelled in a delicious climate, warm as an English summer by day, with clear skies, and just cold enough at night to make a fire look cheerful. From what I c»n learn I believe the climate to be healthy, though locally there was a great amount of sickness during last summer, owing to overcrowding during the war. On that point I can only say that I Bee plenty of healthy- looking people about, which is all there is to say on that or any other matter. If this letter is not ns interesting as I should like ib to be, it is not for want of good will, but owing to my limited sphere of observation. Should the latter improve, I will write you further.