all. The hardy English tar who had caused such excitement,
actually assisted in rowing the boat back to
the ship. We, of course, had our storm off the Cape
—a midnig h t scene; and though we had four boats
washed away, our mainyard sprung, and water rushing
wildly through our cabins, the noble ship bore the
strain most gallantly, anchoring the following day, 4th
July, in Simon’s Bay.
Sir George Grey, the Governor of the Cape, whom
the Forte was conveying to his seat of government,
was a true friend to oar expedition, and evinced the
deepest interest in its progress. By his influence
we obtained a grant of £300 from the Cape Parliament
to supply us with a dozen baggage - mules.
Two honourable members, who formed the minority,
when the question was put, sagely remarked that
“ I t was nothing to them where the source of the Nile
was; every one knew it was south of the equator; —
not a bad guess ! In the Governor’s body-guard, when
he called for volunteers to cross Africa, there was not
even this minority—not a dissentient voice was heard;
all wished to go, and we selected ten—a corporal and
nine privates of the Cape Mounted Rifles. When
paraded for our inspection, they reminded me of the
Goorkas of India. On the 16th July two teams of
beautiful bays pulled up at the Admiral’s house,
Simon’s Bay, where we then were, conveying these ten
volunteers, who sat in the open four-wheeled vans
looking very smart with their red caps, much to the
envy of some Forte marines, who would have liked to
go with us.
The embarking of the unmanageable mules was
kindly effected by Mr Wilkinson of the Forte; and hav-
MULES. 5
ing bidden adieu to all her officers, we sailed that -night,
for Zanzibar in H.M.’s steam-ship Brisk, 16 guns, Captain
De Horsey. Sir Henry Keppel and Staff, on a tour
of inspection, were also on board. The first night was
one of intense discomfort. We were shut up within the
walls of a screen-berth 10 feet by 10, the cots bumping
against each other, a rolling sea, and half-a-dozen mules
kicking and neighing in their misery all night long,
and directly overhead. The officers, however, were extremely
kind, and their wardroom so cheerful, that we
soon forgot these midnight annoyances. Every morning
a man named Long, a sailor, who said “ he knew
how to manage mules, as his mother kept a team,”
would report that the mules were “ all alive.” This
was very superfluous news, for we had been hearing
their music overhead all night. Often at dinnertime
Long would take the favourable opportunity of
exercising his mules about the deck, and giving the
middies a chance of a ride. At roll-call of a Sunday,
some of the names of the crew sounded very
oddly. For instance, three Kroomen dignified themselves
with the titles of “ King John,” “ Soda-water,”
and “ Prince of Wales;” while my servant answered to
the name of “April.” He was a jet-black man, and
one of the “ Tots” (Hottentots), whose first essay as
valet much amused us. I had never had pillow-slips
on board, and he, thinking that I ought to possess
them, found one for me the first night in the shape of
my empty clothes-bag—a feat most creditable to his
ingenuity and sense of cleanliness. On the 27th of
July this same gentleman, while in Delagoa Bay, landed
in green velvet shooting-coat, tight jockey-trousers,
and neat regimental cap—quite a swell in compari