The chief article of cultivation in the valley is the grape, for wine manufacture, which must in this place return a very handsome profit.
From Renden to Genaaden Dal is a four-hours' journey. The road passes by Donker's Hoek, a tolerably high mountain, to ascend the summit of which cost our horses some strenuous exertion, although we marched a considerable distance on foot. A wide belt of sandstone formation presented a marvellous display of flowers, and gave us in little an idea of the South African Karroos, a series of terraced clay-patches, estimated at from 3000 to 4000 feet high, which, hard and steppe-like in the dry season, are speedily transformed in the rainy season into smiling, flower-bespangled plains, quite sponge-like under foot, and rich in alkaline products.[52] We advanced some six hours before reaching another farm-house. This was known as Kleene Islea Plaats (Little Island Farm), near which flows the Zonderend River (River Without End), the property of a kind and hospitable family of French extraction, whose parents emigrated hither from France during the revolution in 1793. As it was Sunday, the servants had gone to church, so they could only offer us cold mutton, syrup, butter, and bread. Before and after our repast, the devout old lady of the house put up a short petition.
[Footnote 52: The English appellation "Karroo" seems to be derived from _Karusa_, signifying "hard" in the Hottentot language, and to refer to a quality appertaining to the clayey substance of which these terraces are composed, by virtue of which the red clay, strongly impregnated with iron, and mixed with sand, becomes in the dry season as hard as burnt clay.]
Here, too, we remarked that those born in the country of European parents are called Africans: only the English form an exception to this rule, and remain with persistent patriotic obstinacy, "Englishmen."
The journey from Kleene Islea Plaats to Genaaden Dal is extremely picturesque. One first catches sight of this retired Moravian settlement only when actually entering the place itself, embowered as it is among lofty trees. What a surprise, when, still fancying one's self at a considerable distance from the village, on reaching the end of a beautiful valley at the entrance to Bavian's Kloef, one sweeps by a circuit into the very heart of the settlement. We alighted at what is called "The Lodgment," a house set apart for visitors, and conducted by a brother, in conformity with the laws of the community.