ubject just then.

"Go for inspan de waggin. Ordered down to Algoa Bay for bring up de
white men."

"Then we shall probably meet on the road," said Considine, "for I am
going to the same place." As he spoke, they came to a point where the
road forked. The Hottentot, with a sulky "Good-day," took that path
which led towards Jan Smit's cattle kraal, while Considine followed the
other and rejoined his waggons. The two friends mounted their horses,
the drivers set the ox-teams in motion, and the huge waggons lumbered
slowly over the karroo towards the rising sun.

CHAPTER THREE.

DESCRIBES THE SOMEWHAT CURIOUS BEGINNING OF SETTLER-LIFE IN SOUTH
AFRICA.

Leaping over time and space with that hilarious mental bound which is so
easy and enjoyable to writers and readers, let us fold our wings at
early morn in the month of May, and drop down on the heights in the
vicinity of Algoa Bay.

The general aspect of the bay is sandy and sterile. On its blue waters
many large vessels lie at anchor. Some of them are trim, with furled
sails and squared yards, as if they had been there for a considerable
time. Others have sails and spars loose and awry, as if they had just
arrived. From these latter many an emigrant eye is turned wistfully on
the shore. The rising ground on which we stand is crowned by a little
fortress, or fortified barrack, styled Fort Frederick, around which are
the marquees of the officers of the 72nd regiment. Below, on the range
of sandhills which fringe the beach, are pitched a multitude of canvas
tents, and among these upwards of a thousand men, women, and children
are in busy motion. There are only one or two small wooden houses
visible, and three thatched cottages. Down at the water's edge, and
deep in the surf, crowds of soldiers, civilians, and half-naked natives
are busy hauling on the ropes attached to the large surfboats, which are
covered to overflowing with human beings. Those in the boats, as well
as those in the surf and on the beach, are in a state of high
excitement, and more or less demonstrative, while the seamen from a
neighbouring sloop of war, who manage the boats, shout to the people at
the ropes. The replies of these are drowned, ever and anon, by the roar
of falling "rollers." These rollers, or great waves, calm though the
morning be, come in with giant force from the mighty sea. They are the
mere termination of the ocean-swell.

Reader, the scene before you marks an