Were not places of pleasurable and healthful resort so few in the
neighbourhood of Cape Town, its inhabitants would certainly not attach the
degree of importance they do to visiting a spot so barren of attraction to
the majority as is the country whereon stands Rathfelder's Hotel. A long,
low, widespreading building, or rather cluster of buildings, it lies
beside the road leading from Cape Town to Cork Bay, and nearly at equal
distance—about seven miles—from both places. Excepting a scattering of
small native cottages, no other habitation is within sight, and the
country, bounded on the north-west by the seemingly interminable range of
the Table Mountains, spreads away in other directions, far, far beyond
sight, one unbroken flat. Indeed, "The Flats" is the name given to these
parts by the natives. To the lover of flowers and of this kind of wild,
independent solitude peculiar to the Flats, the gratification is
boundless. The soil, a mixture of white sand and turf, is highly
favourable to the growth of an immense variety of heaths and other
flowering shrubs, which with ever-charming successions carpet the ground
with their myriads of blossoms throughout the great part of the year.
Heaths of the richest hues and luxuriance—scarlet, orange, pink and other
colours—predominate.
It would seem that only by comparison is the value, the real pleasure or
importance of anything known; even the degrees of pain and sorrow are
learned but by contrast with the greater or lesser afflictions which have
preceded them; and thus it was that a week or fortnight's stay at
Rathfelder's or but a day's excursion to these flowery and cool
regions—cooler and fresher by ten degrees than in or near the town—came to
be regarded as one if not the principal delight of the hot summer-time to
the inhabitants of Cape Town—especially to those who, like our dear uncle,
were obliged by reason of their engagements to spend a great portion of
every day in the scorching city. He was one of the managers of the great
Colonial bank there.
* * * * *
"Oh, now, don't you call this pleasant, Lotty?" I exclaimed as we wandered
together in the garden at the back of the hotel after dinner, uncle and
aunt preferring to remain on the broad balcony surrounding that portion of
the house allotted entirely to visitors. The garden lay at a distance
quite out of sight of the house, and was shaded by fruit trees, while the
banks of a stream which rippled over a pebbly bed skirting one side of the
ground were brilliant with arum blossoms and other flowers, making the
entire scene a very inviting one.
"Yes, it's very well in its way," answered Lotty, glancing about her with
a careless air, "but I think we've had enough of it now; I should like a
little change, shouldn't you? Can't we get upon those Flats, as they call
them, I wonder?"
"Oh, but do you not remember," I urged, "that uncle so particularly warned
us not to go beyond the garden this evening, as the hour is so late, the
country so new to us, and daylight leaves this part of the Cape more
suddenly than it does ours, because the sun goes down, you know, on the
other side of the mountain. Just fancy losing our way out on those
wild-looking Flats!"
"Losing our way!" repeated Charlotte, contemptuously; "as if that was
possible in such a flat country as this. You are always such a coward,
Mechie, that's the truth; and then you take refuge in a pretended
obedience to uncle and aunt's wishes."
"Oh, Charlotte!" I exclaimed as I felt the blood rush to my face and brow,
"you cannot mean what you say."
"Well, there! don't be offended," rejoined my sister, not attending to my
vexed words, but passing through an opening which she spied out in the
hedge beside us.
"Oh, Mechie," she continued in a delighted tone, "here is just the thing
we want, nothing more nor less than a charming little rustic bridge which
opens a way out of this stupid garden for us at once!"
I followed Lotty, who stood on a broad plank looking down into a deep,
wide space which formed the bed of a much more pretentious stream or brook
than that in the garden, this last being evidently an offspring of the
first. Very reluctantly I followed my wayward sister, resolving just to
look about for a minute or two on the confines of the Flats and then
return to the garden. Ah, that weak or sinful first stop on the wrong
road! After crossing the bridge and a large sort of enclosed field in a
half-cultivated state, we clambered over some bars of wood serving as a
gate at the farther end, and found ourselves out on the Flats.
But now it needed little more persuasion on Charlotte's part to induce me
to proceed. Every step of the way teemed with attractions for me in the
shape of flowers, beautiful and varied to a degree of luxuriance I had
never seen before; and thus tempted, I became oblivious alike of dear
uncle's advice and of time and path, and heedlessly followed Lotty, who
wandered on ahead, every now and then gathering a blossom as its bright
hue caught her eye, and as quickly casting it from her when curiosity was
gratified.
So it came that walking and picking, each after her own fashion, it was
not until my hand was full to inconvenience—for I was eager to carry back
a splendid bouquet to Aunt Rossiter—that I observed the sun had
disappeared behind the great Table Mountain and the brief twilight of that
part of the world was fast becoming enveloped in the dark mantle of night.
It so chanced I had got in advance of Charlotte during the last five or
ten minutes, having passed her as she turned aside to look at something,
and with increasing apprehension I saw how far we had strayed from the
hotel—considerably farther than I had ever intended—and I felt how wrong
and silly I had been to allow my sister's influence to have any weight
with me in opposition to the advice of my guardian, who knew so much
better what was in every way good for us than we could possibly know for
ourselves.
Turning hastily to Charlotte, I exclaimed:
"Oh, Lotty, how dark it is growing, and we have walked such a distance!
Oh, it was very foolish of us!"
Charlotte stopped suddenly and looking up and around her with a scared
expression, said in an angry and alarmed voice: "Foolish indeed! why in
the name of wonder, Mechie, were you so stupid as not to observe it
before? and what did you run on for at such a rate, so fast and so far? It
was as much as I could do to keep up with you! It is all your fault."
I knew well from past experience that to argue with Charlotte in her
present mood would but increase her irritation and lose more of that time
we had already spent too much of. When frightened or angry she seldom
stopped to think of the justice or injustice her accusations, but
unreflectingly cast anything at me which came into her head. Amidst my own
distress, however, I could not withstand saying: "Well, it was very
careless of me, I must confess, but indeed, Lotty, you cannot but fairly
acknowledge that, having been the proposer and leader of this walk, it
rested principally with you to be its regulator as to time and distance;
and though I did not exactly act upon any defined impression of that kind,
I am nevertheless conscious of having been in a manner influenced by it,
and—"
"Proposer and leader!" interrupted Charlotte, angrily; "do you think I
liked this stupid walk? I am not such a baby as you are, to find amusement
wherever I go in picking up pebbles and flowers! It's just you all over,
Mechie, to talk such nonsense!"
"Well, never mind, Lotty, who is in fault, but let us do our best to
escape the consequence of our imprudence, and return at once," I answered,
gently, seeing I was but wasting the precious minutes.
"Yes, that is if we can," said Lotty, gazing about her with a thoroughly
perplexed look; "let me see—which way did we come? I declare it's more
than I know; every side looks alike, and not a vestige of the hotel to be
seen."