cannon lie, grim and rusty, amid a tangled profusion of wild
geranium, heath and lilies, I scrambled up to one of the
nearest block-houses, and found the date on the dismounted gun
to be more than a hundred years old. The view was beautiful
and the air fresh and fragrant with scent of flowers.

But to return to our drive. I could gaze and gaze for ever at
this lovely panorama, but am told this is the ugliest part of
the road. The road itself is certainly not pretty just here,
and is cloudy with a fine red dust, but this view of sea and
distant hills is enchanting. Soon we get under the lee of
the great mountain, and then its sheltering arms show their
protective power; for splendid oak avenues begin to border the
road all the way, and miniature forests of straight-stemmed
pines and shimmering belts of the ghostly silver tree run up
all the mountain-clefts. Stem and leaf of the silver tree are
all of purest white; and when one gets a gleam of sunlight
on a distant patch of these trees, the effect is quite
indescribable, contrasting, as they do, with green of field
and vineyard. The vines all about here and towards Constantia,
thirteen miles off, are dwarf-plants, and only grow to the
height of gooseberry-bushes. It is a particular species, which
is found to answer best as requiring less labor to train and
cultivate, and is less likely to be blown out of the ground
by the violent "sou'-easters" which come sweeping over the
mountain. These gales are evidently the greatest annoyance
which Cape Colonists have to endure; and although everybody
kindly suggests that I _ought_ to see one, just to understand
what it is like, I am profoundly thankful that I only know it
from their description and my own distinct recollection of the
New Zealand "nor'-westers." Those were hot winds, scorching
and curling up everything, whereas this is rather a cold
breeze, although it blows chiefly in summer. It whirls along
clouds of dust from the red clay roads and fields which
penetrates and clings to everything in the most extraordinary
manner. All along the road the stems and lower branches of the
trees are dyed a deep brick-dust color, and I hear moving and
pathetic stories of how it ruins clothes, not only utterly
spoiling black silk dresses, but staining white petticoats and
children's fr