The northwestern boundary of the colony is the great Drakensbergen, which mountains are more properly the edge of the great stretch to the table-land situated in the centre of the continent. The aspects of this great precipice along its whole length are grand and romantic, and as the land at its foot does not subside to the sea by easy levels, Natal is picturesque everywhere. The midland districts have in many parts the look of the English downs; they are rolling sweeps of grass. The coast lines are singularly beautiful, with their round bosses, rich in bush and glade, while the shore presents a bold outline, with projecting bluffs thickly covered with jungle, and long stretches of lands broken by rocky floors and reef, on which the surf of the Indian Ocean majestically breaks. A favourite trip for the town's people is to take a boat and cross the lagoon to the bluff, where the scenery is highly romantic both at the base of the great headland and inland. A forest of fine trees lies a little beyond the bluff, and here the sportsman may find bush buck, a large description of antelope, in plenty, besides smaller varieties in any number, and may also make the acquaintance of boa constrictors, python and puff adders, or disturb the slumbers of a leopard or black mamba before he returns home. Of all the snake stories that were told us in Africa, those of Mr Cato, our American Consul, were the best. He was one of the first settlers in Durban. Of course when the country was as wild as it once was, snakes had a chance they don't get nowadays, and made the best of their opportunities. A colonel in the English regiment stationed there, a very popular and handsome fellow, went hunting during our stay, and in alighting from his horse in the tall Zulu grass, stepped on a deadly puff adder, which raised its ugly hooded head and stung him. In an hour he was a corpse. The personal experiences of nearly every resident were not so interesting as they were thrilling. One gentleman, who occupied a position of trust, and whose word could be depended upon, told us a snake story which I do not believe was exaggerated. He was alone in his house one night, and was awakened from a deep sleep by a peculiar sound. He listened, and soon had a feeling that a snake was crawling through a knot-hole in the bare floor. He lay nearly paralysed, the perspiration oozing out all over his body until, with an effort, he sprang up and over the foot of his bed, and rushed into the next room. He struck a light, and returned to see if there was any ground for his fright, and found a long, deadly puff adder lying on his bed which he had so lately vacated. We heard other stories just as horrid; it was a fascinating subject.