THE 'TABLE-CLOTH."

169

features of South African scenery! Sand and rock and mountain, ever-green trees and smiling vineyards, pass in quick review. There lie the ships in Table Bay, looking like nutshells in their littleness. Robben Island, at the entrance of the bay, might be taken for some floating seaweed. To the right stretches out the promontory of Blue Berg, where the English force landed when it took possession of the colony. Cape Town, with its guardian lion on the left, is seen without the intervention of any smoky canopy, and behind the fine sweep of False Bay runs far inland.

The descent from the mountain is more difficult, and requires even more care than the ascent. Through the kloof the loose stones slip from under your feet, rolling before you to the bottom, and the wind sweeping down the ravine propels you forward with more haste than good speed. When we left, the south-east wind, which had been blowing gently all day, increased somewhat in violence, and looking towards Cape Town, the effect of this wind in raising the dust was strikingly visible. A dense cloud of dust hung over the city and swept across the bay. Before we had reached the bottom, the summit of the mountain was enveloped in mist. On the following Sunday, I had an excellent opportunity of seeing that singular phenomenon, the "table-cloth," the invariable accompaniment of a south-easter. A dense white cloud lay all along the flat top of the mountain, and pouring over its rocky edge, the vapour descends about a third of the way to the bottom, when it is absorbed by the warmer air of this lower region, and hence becomes invisible. The rest of the sky is perfectly cloudless.

During a south-easter, ships are sometimes driven from their moorings, and at such times exorbitant sums are demanded of those who are compelled to join ships lying in

the bay, in consequence of the great danger of returning to shore in the teeth of such a wind.

A dock, which would be of immense advantage to Table Bay, is talked of. Every facility is afforded for enabling vessels to ascertain the rates of their chronometers; a ball drops from the crosstree of the flag-staff at the Royal Observatory daily (Sundays excepted), at the instant of one o'clock Cape mean solar time, which corresponds to 11h 46m 5s, Greenwich mean solar time. The signal is almost instantly repeated by another ball attached to a lever arm at the Lion's Rump Signal Station. The Observatory ball is visible from the outer anchorage; the Lion's Rump ball is visible from the whole sweep of the bay. Both balls are raised at five minutes before signal nearly, and the interval between the drops is half a second.

Within a pleasant distance of Cape Town, for a morning drive, are the famous vineyards of Constantia. Omnibuses leave Adderley Street nearly every hour for the pretty village of Wynberg, eight miles distant. There is a capital macadamised road all the way, which for miles winds through shady avenues of the African oak,-trees of larger growth than those at Cape Town. Passing two or three villages, we arrive at Wynberg, a charming place of residence for those who like a retired country life. It is a favourite resort of English visitors who come to the Cape to recruit their health. The Dutch church is a conspicuous object, and there is also an English Episcopal chapel. The inn is a comfortable house, where the traveller meets with civility, and, as far as my experience goes, the charges are moderate. Before proceeding to Constantia, we repaired to the police-station, where the Kaffir chief Seyolo, who figured conspicuously in the last war, is detained a prisoner. A more miserable state of existence for a savage, who has

ever been accustomed to the wild freedom of his native haunts, can scarcely be imagined. A small room without furniture, and a court-yard of very limited dimensions, now form the bounds of his habitation. Seyolo, a fine shrewdlooking man, with a cunning twinkle in his keen black eyes, was lying on the floor of his room wrapped up in a blanket, and he did not disdain to accept some tobacco given him by one of the party. He is allowed the company of one of his wives, and the poor child was lying also wrapped up in a blanket in the same apartment, but of course she is not a prisoner. Her devotion to her unfortunate husband in thus voluntarily sharing his captivity is, indeed, touching. There has been some talk of this petty chief being restored to liberty; but he is a great rogue, and also an assassin, and those best acquainted with the character of the Kaffirs say that anything like philanthropy and kindness is quite thrown away upon them, being viewed only as a sign of weakness, and as prompted by fear. Another Kaffir war seems to be looked for by the colonists.

Gladly turning away from this picture of misery, we took the sandy road that leads to Constantia, now about three miles distant. Winding round from the right, the mountains stretch away in the distance, and very fine they looked with the sun shining on their sloping sides and rugged tops. Fir-trees of various species, the silver tree, the curious sugar-bush, pelargoniums, lobelias, many kinds of aloes, and other trees and plants too numerous to mention, here afford an ample field of observation to the lover of the vegetable world. But here we are at the Constantias. There are three estates, called respectively High Constantia, Great Constantia, and Little Constantia. Straight a-head is a large board, with the word "Constantia" painted on it in large characters; and to the left is

also a board indicating the road to the “Original, or Great Constantia." We pursue the road straight on, or rather the path which is shaded with a hedge of oak, and a few minutes' walk brings us to the house of the Messrs. Van Renen. It is prettily situated amidst fine oak, willow, orange, and lemon-trees, which afford a delightful shade, and the vines grow in the fields around. In one of the oak-trees is a capital summer-house. We were met by one of the gentlemen who own the estate, who politely showed us over his cool and spacious stores, and freely offered us the delicious wines for which the locality is famed. Here are seen huge barrels filled with the rich unadulterated juice of the grape. There is the Pontac, a red, and the Frontignac, a white Constantia, both rich, luscious wines, and the same in price, which on the spot is 47. the five-gallon cask. There is also the white Muscadel and the red Muscadel, both just half the price. December, unfortunately, is not the grape season; they are ripe in Feburary, and the wine is made in March. The vines are not trailed, but are about the size of a welltrimmed currant-bush, and are planted in rows three feet apart. C. T. W.

THE SAFETY-LAMP.

THERE are various kinds of air or gas, having, in most cases, the same physical properties as the air we breathe, but all possessing very different chemical characters. Thus, taken in a popular sense, some are inflammable, or burn when ignited, as hydrogen gas; others which do not ignite on the approach of a burning body, yet support the combustion, as oxygen gas; and, lastly, some are neither inflammable nor support combustion, but extinguish flame, as nitrogen gas. A mixture of any of the two former classes under certain conditions, when brought into contact with a naked flame, immediately ignites, and produces what we term an explosion.

Now, in coal-mines we meet with evolutions of gas of the first and latter classes, which alone would undergo no change in contact with flame; but, in order to support the animal life in these underground works, there must be a large supply of common air. Hence arises the possibility of explosions.

The most common inflammable gas found in mines and elsewhere has been termed carburetted hydrogen, and an account of it is recorded as early as 1640 in the "Philosophical Transactions." It is composed of three parts of carbon, and one part of hydrogen. It has neither colour, taste, nor smell, and possesses all the mechanical properties of common air. It takes fire by the application of a lighted candle, and burns with a strong yellow flame, but, providentially, it requires a much higher temperature for ignition than any other gas.