drawn swords, all dashing at a rattling pace along the sands in the bright sunshine, and the long lines of small breakers on the beach, was one of the most exhilarating sights imaginable. In places the cavalcade emerged from the sands up on to where the road skirts a rocky shore, and where at this season of the year beautiful arum lilies and other bright flowers were growing in the greatest profusion. About four miles from Simon’s Bay, we passed a small cove, called Fish-hook Bay, where a few families of Malay fishermen reside. A whale they had killed in the bay the evening before lay anchored ready for ‘cutting in.’ A small flag, called by whalers a ‘whiff,’ was sticking up in it. We could see from the road that it was one of the usual southern ‘right’ whales which occasionally come into Simon’s Bay, and are captured there. After crossing the last of the sands, we reached Kalk Bay, a collection of small houses where the people from Cape Town come to stay in the summer. As we proceeded, fresh carriages of private individuals and horsemen continued to join on behind, and it was necessary to keep a bright look-out to prevent them rushing in between the two carriages containing the Duke and Governor, with their suites. Various small unpretending arches (every poor man having put up one on his own account), with flags and flowers, spanned the road in different places between Simon’s Town and Farmer Peck’s, a small inn about nine miles from the anchorage, which used formerly to have the following eccentric sign-board:— ‘THE GENTLE SHEPHERD OF SALISBURY PLAIN. ‘FARMER PECKS. ‘Multum in Parvo! Pro bono publico! Entertainment for man or beast, all of a row, Lekher kost, as much as you please; Excellent beds, without any fleas. Nos patriam fugimus! now we are here, Vivamus! let us live by selling beer. On donne à boire et à manger ici; Come in and try it, whoever you be.’