Landing in Durban

1900

A novel method of leaving a steamer is in vogue at Durban, in Natal. The originality of the method arises from the peculiar character of the bay, which is a long, landlocked lagoon, connected with the open sea by a narrow channel, which flows between two breakwaters intended to prevent the formation of the bar, and so to maintain free access for ships into the harbor. That bar is the battle-ground of political parties in Natal. The Bishop of Natal, writing in Good Words, explains that politics turn more on proposals for fighting the bar than on any question of Liberal or Conservative policy.

In the meantime the bar holds its own, and the mail-steamers are too big to get into the harbor. The outside anchorage is a rough and restless place, and nine days out of ten, tugs are afraid to lie alongside a gangway. Thus it happens that passengers are driven to the alternative of escaping from the ship by the same method by which St. Paul escaped from Damascus — in a basket.

"We owe gratitude, however, to the Empress Eugenie," says the bishop, "for since the day that she came to Natal on her sad errand, the basket has increased its dimensions. It is, in fact, almost as large as the elevator in a London mansion, affording room for three or four people to sit or stand."

In this commodious receptacle the passengers are hauled aloft by a steam crane, and dropped with much care and precision into the tug lying alongside. The sensation of swinging aloft and dropping into that heaving tug must be anything but pleasant.

The shore gained, the visitor to Durban has a chance of making the acquaintance of the Natal rickshaw boy, who will gallop him up to the Royal Hotel in good style.

These Zulu boys are good specimens of their race — a race of children. They have tremendous spirits. They would think it very tame to wait their turn for a fare, like the London cabmen. When a traveller comes out of the hotel there is a wild charge of rickshaws across the street. The boys enjoy the race, and shout and leap into the air.

The dress of the rickshaw boy is a picturesque medley. It is a common thing to see one wearing the discarded tunic of a private of an English line regiment, his head covered with a child's or a lady's straw hat, ornamented with tags of lace and tied with a ribbon under the chin. Others affect the ferocious style, and adorn themselves with enormous feathers or a pair of cow's horns tied to their heads. — Youth's Companion.