As I improved in health and strength, my kind hosts would have me name any messmates I would like to see. Glanville was a sportsman, the only one of our Cape de Verd picnic that had escaped the African fever; he was a good boxer as well, and went by the name of “Gully.” Glanville brought an amusing account of our newly-appointed Irish mid, Coppinger. Simon’s Bay, subject to squalls from the adjacent mountains, made it necessary to keep sheets clear. Sailing off in a cutter, Coppinger was capsized; seen from the ship, boats were sent, crew saved; but the difficulty was to catch Coppinger, who, being an expert swimmer and conspicuous from his cocked hat, which stuck to his head, refused for some time to be caught. [Sidenote: Jan. 29.] Ships in Simon’s Bay fired a royal salute in commemoration of the accession of His Majesty King George IV. In the 98th Regiment was Captain Eyre, a sportsman and lion-killer. Being a brother of the clergyman at Larling, near Quidenham, we became friends. He got me made a honorary member of their mess; it is only the last two years that age has obliged me to give up attending their annual dinner, where I had always received a kind and hearty welcome. Le Marchant was the best-dressed man in the regiment, and did duty as Town Major; he was not much of a sportsman, but Eyre persuaded him to join a lion-shooting party. One afternoon, before sundown, they came on a large reed covert which held lions. Le Marchant, well mounted, kept in the rear, Eyre and party closing on the lions; one of them broke covert some way off, and, making a semi-circuit, selected Le Marchant, and had pulled his horse to the ground. Eyre was just in time at close quarters to send a bullet into the brain of the lion. Le Marchant was happier afterwards as Governor of Malta. My host used to take me when he visited my Captain for a couple of days at Simon’s Bay, but kindly bargained for my returning with him. Colonel Blake was the Commandant at Simon’s Bay; most kind and hospitable. He had belonged to a cavalry regiment. When the country was finally taken over from the Dutch in 1806 he married a Cape lady, and had a son and a pretty daughter. Mat Blake became a breeder of horses, and I hope and believe that he is still alive. While riding in the open country, it was not unusual to meet the Dutch waggons drawn by eighteen or twenty bullocks; also sixteen-horse waggons. I have seen a wild zebra so harnessed, unable to escape, but made to work, a second driver carrying a lengthy whip. These facts, though curious to me then, are as well known as the riders in Hyde Park. [Sidenote: March.]