path: root/74281-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74281 ***



[Illustration: Emil Holub

    _Frontispiece._]




                     SEVEN YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICA:

             TRAVELS, RESEARCHES, AND HUNTING ADVENTURES,
         BETWEEN THE DIAMOND-FIELDS AND THE ZAMBESI (1872–79).

                                  BY

                            DR. EMIL HOLUB.

                   _TRANSLATED BY ELLEN E. FREWER._

       WITH ABOUT TWO HUNDRED ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP.

                            IN TWO VOLUMES.

                                VOL. I.

                           _SECOND EDITION._

                                London:
              SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
                  CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.

                                 1881.

                       [_All rights reserved._]




                                LONDON:
                   GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS,
                          ST. JOHN’S SQUARE.




                               PREFACE.


From the days of my boyhood I had been stirred with the desire to
devote myself in some way to the exploration of Africa, and whenever I
came across the narratives of travellers who had contributed anything
towards the opening up of the dark continent, I only read them to find
that they gave a more definite shape to my longings.

It was in 1872 that an opportunity was afforded me of gratifying my
wish, and I then decided that South Africa should be the field of my
researches. For seven years I applied myself to my undertaking with all
the energy, and with the best resources that, as a solitary individual,
I could command, and was enabled to make the three journeys which are
described in the following pages.

On my third return to the Diamond-fields I was urged by my South
African friends immediately to publish an account of my travels; my
time, however, was so engrossed by my medical practice that I had no
leisure for the purpose, and contented myself with merely sending a few
fragmentary articles to some of the South African newspapers.

But on arriving in London I was again so repeatedly solicited to make
public what I had seen, that, on reaching home, I determined to issue
these volumes containing an account of the leading incidents in my
travelling experiences. To enter into the details of all the scientific
observations that I made would occupy me for at least three years, and
would interfere altogether with my scheme for returning to Africa as
soon as possible, so that I have been satisfied to leave these results
of my labours to be worked out by the co-operation of the men of
science to whom they may be of interest.

I cherish the hope that these volumes may tend to increase the public
interest which is now so powerfully drawn to South Africa, and I trust
that the time is not far distant when I may submit to the public some
further researches relating to “the continent of the future.”

                                                         EMIL HOLUB.




                               CONTENTS.


                              CHAPTER I.
                                                                   PAGE

    VOYAGE TO THE CAPE--CAPE TOWN--PORT ELIZABETH                     1


                              CHAPTER II.

    JOURNEY TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS                                    24


                             CHAPTER III.

                          THE DIAMOND FIELDS.

    Ups-and-downs of medical practice--Mode of working
    the diggings--The kopjes--Morning markets--My first
    baboon-hunt--Preparation for first journey                       53


                              CHAPTER IV.

                     FROM DUTOITSPAN TO LIKATLONG.

    My travelling-companions--Departure from the
    Diamond-fields--The Vaal River and valley--Visit to Koranna
    village--Structure of Koranna huts--Social condition of
    the Korannas--Klipdrift--Distinction between Bechuanas and
    Korannas--Interior of a Koranna hut--Fauna of the Vaal
    valley--A bad road--A charming glen--Cobras and their
    venom--Ring-neck snakes--The mud in the Harts River              93


                              CHAPTER V.

                   FROM LIKATLONG TO WONDERFONTEIN.

    Batlapin life--Weaver-birds and their nests--A Batlapin
    farmstead--Ant-hills--Travelling Batlapins--An
    alarming accident--Springbockfontein--Gassibone and
    his residence--An untempting dish--On the bank of the
    Vaal--Water lizards--Christiana--Bloemhof--Stormy
    night--Pastures by the Vaal--Cranes--Dutch
    hunters--A sportsman’s Eldorado--Surprised by black
    gnus--Guinea-fowl--Klerksdorp--Potchefstroom--The Mooi
    River valley--Geological notes--Wonderfontein and its
    grottoes--Otters, birds, and snakes                             118


                              CHAPTER VI.

                     RETURN JOURNEY TO DUTOITSPAN.

    Departure from Wonderfontein--Potchefstroom again--A
    mistake--Expenses of transport--Rennicke’s Farm--A
    concourse of birds--Gildenhuis--A lion-hunt--Hallwater
    Farm and Salt-pan--A Batlapin delicacy--Rough
    travelling--Hebron--Return to Dutoitspan--The Basutos           182


                             CHAPTER VII.

                    FROM DUTOITSPAN TO MUSEMANYANA.

    Preparation for second
    journey--Travelling-companions--Departure--A
    diamond--A lovely evening--Want of water--A
    conflagration--Hartebeests--An expensive
    draught--Gassibone’s kraal--An adventure with a cobra--A
    clamorous crowd--A smithy--The mission-station at
    Taung--Maruma--Thorny places--Cheap diamonds--Pelted by
    baboons--Reception at Musemanyana                               216


                             CHAPTER VIII.

                    FROM MUSEMANYANA TO MOSHANENG.

    Departure from Musemanyana--The Quagga Flats--Hyæna-hunt
    by moonlight--Makalahari horsemanship--Konana--A lion on
    the Sitlagole--Animal life on the table-land--Gnu-hunt
    at night--A missing comrade--Piles of bones--Hunting a
    wild goose--South African spring-time--Molema’s Town--Mr.
    Webb and the Mission-house--The chief Molema--Huss
    Hill--Neighbourhood of Moshaneng--Illustrious visitors          252


                              CHAPTER IX.

                     FROM MOSHANENG TO MOLOPOLOLE.

    King Montsua and Christianity--Royal gifts--The Banquaketse
    highlands--Signs of tropical vegetation--Hyæna-dogs--Ruins
    of Mosilili’s Town--Rock-rabbits--A thari--Molopolole           294


                              CHAPTER X.

                     FROM MOLOPOLOLE TO SHOSHONG.

    Picturesque situation of Molopolole--Sechele’s
    territory--Bakuena architecture--Excursion up the glen--The
    missionaries--Kotlas--My reception by Sechele--A young
    prince--Environs of Molopolole--Manners and customs of
    the Bechuanas--Religious ceremonies--Linyakas--Medical
    practice--Amulets--Moloi--The exorcising of
    Khame--Rain-doctors--Departure from Molopolole--A painful
    march--Want of water--The Barwas and Masarwas--Their
    superstition and mode of hunting--New Year’s Day in the
    wilderness--Lost in the woods--Saved by a Masarwa--Wild
    honey--The Bamangwato highlands--Arrival at Shoshong            312


                              CHAPTER XI.

               FROM SHOSHONG BACK TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS.

    Position and importance of Shoshong--Our entry into the
    town--Mr. Mackenzie--Visit to Sekhomo--History of the
    Bamangwato empire--Family feuds--Sekhomo and his council--A
    panic--Manners and customs of the Bechuanas--Circumcision
    and the boguera--Departure from Shoshong--The African
    francolin--Khame’s saltpan--Elephant tracks--Puff-adders--A
    dorn-veldt--A brilliant scene--My serious
    illness--Chwene-Chwene--The Dwars mountains--Schweinfurth’s
    pass--Brackfontein--Linokana--Thomas Jensen, the
    missionary--Baharutse agriculture--Zeerust and the
    Marico district--The Hooge-veldt--Quartzite walls at
    Klip-port--Parting with my companions--Arrival at Dutoitspan    367




                   LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.

                                                                  PAGE

    Emil Holub                                         _Frontispiece._

    Cape-Town                                                        5

    Euphorbia Trees                                                 17

    Elephants on the Zondags River                                  28

    Springbock Hunting                                              33

    Antelope Trap                                                   36

    The Country near Cradock                                        37

    On the Way to the Diamond-Fields                                40

    Hotel on the Riet River                                         49

    Square in Dutoitspan                                            63

    Kimberley Kopje in 1871                                         67

    Horse Whims in the Diamond Quarries                             68

    Kimberley                                                       69

    Kimberley Kopje in 1872                                         70

    Kaffir Shepherd                                                 77

    Baboon-hunt                                                     88

    “Fore-spanning”                                                 95

    Koranna Huts in the Valley of the Harts River                   96

    Korannas                                                        96

    Interior of a Koranna Hut                                      103

    Batlapin Boys throwing the Kiri                                109

    Batlapin                                                       111

    Batlapin Agriculture                                           116

    Nests of Weaver-Birds                                          123

    Batlapins on a Journey                                         126

    Accident in the Harts River Valley                             129

    Batlapins sewing                                               133

    Camp on Bamboes Spruit                                         147

    Return from the Gnu Hunt                                       155

    Startled by a Herd of Black Gnus                               156

    Night-Camp                                                     168

    Funnel-shaped Cavity in Rocks                                  170

    Grotto of Wonderfontein                                        173

    A Bird Colony                                                  190

    Lion Hunt in the Maquasi Hills                                 193

    Hallwater Farm                                                 195

    Koranna                                                        197

    Batlapins returning from Work                                  201

    Easter Sunday in the Vaal River                                208

    Meeting between Basutos returning from the Diamond
      Fields, and others going thither                             213

    A Moonlight Evening in the Forest                              216

    The Plains on Fire                                             225

    Hartebeest                                                     228

    Head of the Hartebeest (Antilope Caama)                        229

    Woods at the Foot of the Malau Heights                         231

    Niger and the Cobra                                            234

    Mobbed for Spirits                                             236

    Caught by Thorns                                               241

    Cheap Diamonds                                                 242

    Surprised by Baboons                                           244

    Reception in Musemanyana                                       249

    Musemanyana                                                    251

    Barolong Maiden collecting Locusts                             253

    A Hyæna Hunt                                                   256

    A Yochom of the Kalahari chasing a Bless-bock                  259

    A Barolong Story-teller                                        262

    The Bechuana finds the Remains of his Brother                  265

    Wild Animals on the Plains                                     267

    Barolongs chasing Zebras                                       268

    Gnu-hunting by Night                                           270

    Deserted Hunting-place of the Barolongs                        274

    Egyptian-goose on Mimosa-tree                                  275

    Dispensing Drugs in the Open                                   281

    Nest of Weaver-birds                                           284

    Collecting Rain-water                                          287

    A Refreshing Draught                                           288

    Royal Visitors                                                 289

    Barolong Women at Moshaneng                                    297

    Hyænas among the Cattle                                        302

    Hunting the Rock-rabbit                                        306

    The African Lynx                                               309

    White-ant Hills                                                312

    King Sechele                                                   318

    Rain-doctors                                                   325

    Khame’s Magic                                                  335

    Pit, the Griqua, discovers Leopard Tracks                      342

    Native Postmen                                                 346

    Masarwas around a Fire                                         350

    Masarwas at Home                                               352

    Mode of Hunting among the Masarwas                             353

    Preparing the New Year’s Feast in the Forest                   355

    Succoured by a Masarwa                                         360

    A Bamangwato Boy                                               368

    Aprons worn by Bamangwato Women                                369

    Bamangwato Huts at Shoshong                                    372

    Kotla at Shoshong                                              374

    Sekhomo and his Council                                        376

    Bamangwato House                                               378

    Court Dress of a Bamangwato                                    379

    Training the Boys                                              397

    Bamangwato Girls Dressed for the Boguera                       400

    Khame’s Salt-pan                                               404

    Buisport, Rocky Cleft in the Bushveldt                         413

    Baharutse Drawing Water                                        415

    Chukuru, Chief of the Baharutse                                417

    Baharutse Village                                              419

  [Illustration:

    MAP ILLUSTRATING
    D^R. HOLUB’S JOURNEYS
    IN
    SOUTH AFRICA
    1872–1879]




                     SEVEN YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICA.




                              CHAPTER I.

            VOYAGE TO THE CAPE--CAPE TOWN--PORT ELIZABETH.


However fair and favourable the voyage between Southampton and South
Africa, a thrill of new life, a sudden shaking off of lethargy, alike
physical and mental, ever responds to the crisp, dry announcement of
the captain that the long-looked-for land is actually in sight. As
the time draws near when the cry of “Land” may any moment be expected
from the mast-head, many is the rush that is made from the luxurious
cabin to the deck of the splendid steamer, when with straining eyes
the passengers eagerly scan the distant horizon; ever and again in
their eagerness do they think they descry a mountain summit on the long
line that parts sea and sky; but the mountain proves to be merely the
topmast of some distant vessel, and disappointment is intensified by
the very longing that had prompted the imagination.

But at last there is no mistake. From a bright light bank of feathery
cloud on the south-south-east horizon there is seen a long, blue
streak, which every succeeding minute rises obviously more plainly
above the ocean. That far-off streak is the crown of an imposing rock,
itself a monument of a memorable crisis in the annals of geographical
discovery; it is the crest of Africa’s stony beacon, Table Mountain.

Out of the thirty-six days, from May the 26th to July the 1st, 1872,
that I spent on board the “Briton” on her passage from Southampton
to Cape Town,[1] thirty were stormy. For four whole weeks I suffered
from so severe an attack of dysentery that my strength was utterly
prostrated, and I hardly ventured to entertain a hope that I should
ever reach the shores of South Africa alive. My readers, therefore,
will easily understand how my physical weakness, with its accompanying
mental depression, gave me an ardent longing to feel dry land once
more beneath my feet, especially as that land was the goal to which I
was hastening with the express purpose of there devoting my energies
to scientific research. But almost sinking as I felt myself under my
prolonged sufferings, the tidings that the shore was actually in sight
had no sooner reached my cabin than I was conscious of a new thrill of
life in my veins; and my vigour sensibly revived as I watched until not
only Table Mountain, with the Lion’s Head on one side and the Devil’s
Peak on the other, but also the range of the Twelve Apostles to the
south lay outstretched in all their majesty before my eyes.

Before leaving the “Briton” and setting foot upon African soil, I
may briefly relate an adventure that befell me, and which seemed a
foretaste of the dangers and difficulties with which I was to meet in
South Africa itself. On the 20th of June, after three weeks of such
boisterous weather that it had been scarcely possible for a passenger
to go on deck at all, we found ourselves off St. Helena. By this
time not only had my illness seriously reduced my strength, but the
weaker I became the more oppressive did I feel the confined atmosphere
of my second-class cabin; my means not having sufficed to engage a
first-class berth. On the morning in question I experienced an unusual
difficulty in breathing; the surgeon was himself seriously ill, and
consequently not in a condition to prescribe; accordingly, taking my
own advice, I came to the conclusion that I would put my strength to
the test and crawl on deck, where I might at least get some fresh air.
It was not without much difficulty that I managed to creep as far as
the forecastle, splashed repeatedly on the way by the spray from the
waves that thundered against the bow; still, so delightful was the
relief afforded by the breeze to my lungs, that I was conscious only
of enjoyment, and entertained no apprehension of mischief from the
recurring shower-baths.

But my satisfaction only lasted for a few minutes; I soon became
convinced of the extreme imprudence of getting so thoroughly soaked,
and came to the conclusion that I had better make my way back. While
I was thus contemplating my return, I caught sight of a gigantic wave
towering on towards the ship, and before I could devise any means for
my protection, the vessel, trembling to her very centre, ploughed her
way into the billow, where the entire forecastle was quite submerged.
My fingers instinctively clutched at the trellis-work of the flooring;
but, failing to gain a hold, I was caught up by the retreating flood
and carried overboard. Fortunately the lower cross-bar broke my
fall, so that instead of being dashed out to sea, I slipped almost
perpendicularly down the ship’s side. The massive anchor, emblem of
hope, proved my deliverance. Between one of its arms and the timbers of
the ship I hung suspended, until the boatswain came just in time to my
aid, and rescued me from my perilous position.

  [Illustration: CAPE-TOWN.

    _Page 5._]

But to return to Table Mountain, the watchtower of Cape Colony. In
few other points of the coast-line of any continent are the mountains
more representative of the form of the inland country than here. At
the foot of the three contiguous mountains, Table Mountain, Devil’s
Peak, and Lion’s Head, and guarded, as it were, by their giant mass,
reposing, as it might well appear, in one of the most secure and
sheltered nooks in the world, lay Cape Town, the scene of my first
landing. It is the metropolis of South Africa, the most populous city
south of the Zambesi, and the second in importance of all the trade
centres in the Anglo-African colonies. Although, perhaps, in actual
beauty of situation it cannot rival Funchal, the capital of Madeira,
which, with its tiers of terraces on its sloping hillside, we had had
the opportunity of admiring in the course of the voyage, yet there is
something about Cape Town which is singularly attractive to the eye of
a stranger; he seems at once to experience an involuntary feeling of
security as he steams slowly along the shores of Table Bay; and as he
gazes on the white buildings (not unfrequently surmounted by slender
towers) which rise above the verdure of the streets and gardens, he
recognizes what must appear a welcome haven of refuge after the stormy
perils of a long sea passage. But appearances here, as often elsewhere,
are somewhat deceptive; and as matter of fact, both the town and the
bay are at some seasons of the year exposed to violent storms, one
consequence of which is that the entire region is filled with frightful
clouds of dust. Even in calm weather, the dust raised by the ordinary
traffic of the place is so dense and annoying that it is scarcely
possible to see a hundred yards ahead; and to escape it as much as
possible people of sufficient means only come into the town to transact
their business, having their residences in the outskirts at the foot of
the adjacent mountains.

This disadvantage is likely to attach to the town for some time to
come; first, because there are no practicable means of arresting the
storms that break in on the south-east from Simon’s Bay; and secondly,
because no measures have yet been taken in hand for paving the streets.
It must be acknowledged, however, that within the last few years,
during Sir Bartle Frere’s administration, the large harbour-works
that have been erected have done much to protect the town from the
ravages of the ocean,--ravages of which the fragments of wreck that
lie scattered along the shores of Table Bay are the silent but
incontestable witnesses.

At the time of my arrival, in 1872, our vessel had to be towed very
cautiously into the harbour. Mail steamers are now despatched to the
colony every week, but at that time they only reached South Africa
about twice a month, and it was therefore no wonder that each vessel,
as it arrived from the mother-country, should be hailed with delight,
and that the signal from the station at the base of the Lion’s Head
should attract a considerable crowd to the shore. There were many who
were expecting relations or friends; there were the postal officials,
with a body of subordinates, waiting to receive the mail; and there
were large numbers of the coloured population, Malays, Kaffirs, and
Hottentots, as well as many representatives of the cross-breeds of
each race, who had come to offer their services as porters. All these
had found their way to the water’s edge, and stood in compact line
crowded against the pier. In a few minutes the steamer lay to, and the
passengers who, after two days, were to go on to Port Elizabeth hurried
on shore to make the most of their time in exploring the town.

At a short distance from the shore, we entered Cape Town by the
fish-market. Here, every day except Sunday, the Malay fishermen display
an immense variety of fish; and lobsters, standing literally in piles,
seem especially to find a ready sale. Any visitor who can steel his
olfactory nerves against the strong odour that pervades the atmosphere
of the place may here find a singularly ample field for ethnographical
and other studies. The Malays, who were introduced into the country
about ten years since, have remained faithful to their habits and
costume. Imported as fishermen, stone-masons, and tailors, they have
continued their own lines of handicraft, whilst they have adopted a new
pursuit adapted to their new home and have become very successful as
horse-breakers.

Passing along, we were interested in noticing the dusky forms of these
men as they busily emptied the contents of their boats into baskets.
They were dressed in voluminous linen shirts and trousers; and their
conical hats of plaited straw, rushes, or bamboo, were made very
large, so as to protect their heads effectually from the sun. Their
physiognomy is flat, and not particularly pleasing, but their eyes,
especially those of the women, are large and bright, and attest their
tropical origin. The women, who wore brilliant handkerchiefs upon their
heads, and the fullest of white skirts over such a number of petticoats
as gave them all the appearance of indulging in crinoline, were
assisting their husbands in their work, laughing with high glee over a
haul which evidently satisfied them, and chattering, sometimes in their
own language and sometimes in Dutch. A black-headed progeny scrambled
about amongst their busy elders, the girls looking like pretty dolls
in their white linen frocks, the boys dressed in short jackets and
trousers, none of them seeming to consider themselves too young to do
their best in helping to lug off the fish to the market.

On leaving the fish-market, we made our way along one of the streets
which lie parallel to each other, and came to the parade, a place
bordered with pines. Inside the town the eye of a stranger is less
struck by the buildings, which for the most part are in the old Dutch
style, than by the traffic which is going on in the streets, where the
mixed breeds predominate. In every corner, in every house, they swarm
in the capacity of porters, drivers, or servants, and Malays, Kaffirs,
and half-breeds are perpetually lying in wait for a job, which, when
found, they are skilful enough in turning to their own advantage.
Much as was done during my seven years’ sojourn in the country to
improve the external appearance and general condition of the town,
this portion of the population seemed never to gain in refinement, and
the sole advance that it appeared to make was in the craftiness and
exorbitance of its demands. Exceptions, however, were occasionally to
be found amongst some of the Malays and half-breeds, who from special
circumstances had had the advantage of a somewhat better education.

Cape Town is the headquarters of the Chief Commissioner for the
British Possessions and Dependencies in South Africa, as well as for
his Council and for the Upper and Lower Houses of Assembly. It is also
the see of an Anglican bishop. The town contains sixteen churches and
chapels, and amongst its population, which is chiefly coloured, are
members of almost every known creed. Amongst the white part of the
community, the Dutch element decidedly preponderates.

At the head of the present Government is a man who has gained the
highest confidence of the colonists, and who is esteemed as the
most liberal-minded and far-seeing governor that England has ever
entrusted with the administration of the affairs of her South African
possessions. It is confidently maintained that many of Sir Bartle
Frere’s measures are destined to bear rich fruit in the future.

The public buildings that are most worthy of mention are the Town Hall,
the churches, the Government House, the Sailors’ Home, the Railway
Station, and especially the Museum, with Sir George Grey’s Monument,
and the adjacent Botanical Gardens; but perhaps the structure that may
most attract attention is the stone castle commanding the town, where
the Commander-in-chief resides, and which has now been appointed as the
temporary abode of the captive Zulu king, Cetewayo.

Whether seen from the sea, or viewed from inland, the environs of
Cape Town are equally charming in their aspect. Approached from the
shore, the numerous white specks along the foot of the Lion’s Head
gradually resolve themselves into villas standing in the midst of
luxuriant gardens, sometimes situated on the grassy slopes, and
sometimes picturesquely placed upon the summit of a steep bare rock.
The well-to-do residents, especially the merchants, are conveyed from
this suburb into the town by a horse-tramway, which is in constant use
from six in the morning until ten at night. The part lying nearest to
the town is called Green Point, the more remote end being known as Sea
Point. Between the two are the burial-grounds, the one allotted to
Europeans being by no means dissimilar, to the quiet cypress gardens
in Madeira. The native cemeteries lie a little higher up the hill, and
afford an interesting study in ethnography. That of the Mohammedan
Malays cannot fail to claim especial attention--the graves marked by
dark slate tablets, distinguished by inscriptions, and adorned with
perpetual relays of bright paper-flowers.

Charming as is the scene at the foot of the Lion’s Head, there
is another, still more lovely, on the lower slopes of the Devil’s
Mountain. Here, for miles, village after village, garden after garden,
make one continuous chain, the various farmsteads being separated
and overshadowed by tracts of oaks or pines. Every hundred steps an
enchanting picture is opened to the eye, especially in places where the
mountain exhibits its own interesting geological formation, or forms
a background clothed with woods or blossoming heath. The suburb is
connected with the town by the railroad, which runs inland for about a
hundred miles.

On this railroad the third station has a peculiar interest as being
the one nearest to the Royal Observatory, which is built in some
pleasure-grounds near the Salt River. World-wide is the reputation of
the Observatory through its association with the labours of Sir John
Herschel, astronomical science being at present prosecuted under the
superintendence of Professor Gill.

Our two days’ sojourn at Cape Town sped quickly by, and the “Briton”
left Table Bay. Rounding the Cape of Good Hope, she proceeded towards
Algoa Bay, in order to land the majority of her passengers at Port
Elizabeth, the second largest town in the colony, and the most
important mercantile seaport in South Africa.

Along the precipitous coast the voyage is ever attended with
considerable danger, and many vessels have quite recently been lost
upon the hidden reefs with which the sea-bottom is covered.

Like the other bays upon the coast, Algoa Bay is wide and open, and
consequently much exposed to storms; indeed, with the exception of Lime
Bay, a side-arm of Simon’s Bay, there is not a single secure harbour
throughout the entire south coast of the Cape. This is a most serious
disadvantage to trade, export as well as import, not simply from the
loss of time involved in conveying goods backwards or forwards from
vessels anchored nearly half-a-mile from the shore, but on account of
the additional expense that is necessarily incurred. Large sums of
money, undoubtedly, would be required for the formation of harbours in
these open roadsteads, yet the outlay might be beneficial to the colony
in many ways.

Situated on a rocky declivity some 200 feet high, Port Elizabeth
extends over an area about two miles in length, and varying from
a quarter of a mile to a full mile in breadth. The population is
about 20,000. Any lack of natural beauty in the place has been amply
compensated by its having acquired a mercantile importance through
rising to be the trade metropolis for the whole interior country south
of the Zambesi; it has grown to be the harbour not only for the eastern
portion of Cape Colony, the Orange Free State, and the Diamond-fields,
but also partially for the Transvaal and beyond.

A small muddy river divides the town into two unequal sections, of
which the smaller, which lies to the south, is occupied principally
by Malay fishermen. At the end of the main thoroughfare, and at no
great distance from Baker River, bounded on the south side by the
finest Town Hall in South Africa, lies the market-place; in its centre
stands a a pyramid of granite, and as it opens immediately from the
pier, a visitor, who may have been struck with the monotonous aspect
of the town from off the coast, is agreeably surprised to find himself
surrounded by handsome edifices and by offices so luxurious that they
would be no disgrace to any European capital. Between the market-place
and the sea, as far as the mouth of the Baker River, stand immense
warehouses, in which are stored wool ready for export, and all such
imported stores as are awaiting conveyance to the interior.

My own first business upon landing was to select an hotel, but it was
a business that I could by no means set about with the nonchalance of
a well-to-do traveller. For after paying a duty of 1_l._ for my
breech-loader, and 10_s._ for my revolver, my stock of ready money
amounted to just half-a-sovereign; and even this surplus was due to the
accidental circumstance of the case of my gun not having been put on
board the “Briton.” However, I had my letters of introduction.

A German merchant, Hermann Michaelis, to whom I first betook myself,
directed me to Herr Adler, the Austrian Consul, and through the kind
exertions of this gentleman in my behalf, Port Elizabeth proved to me
a most enjoyable place of residence. He introduced me to the leading
gentry of the town, and in a very short time I had the gratification of
having several patients placed under my care. I had much leisure, which
I spent in making excursions around the neighbourhood, but I had hardly
been in Port Elizabeth a fortnight when I received an offer from one
of the resident merchants, inviting me to settle down as a physician,
with an income of about 600_l._ a year. The proposal was very
flattering, and very enticing; it opened the way to set me free from
all pecuniary difficulties, but for reasons which will hereafter be
alleged, I was unable to accept it.

I generally made my excursions in the morning, as soon as I had paid
my medical visits, returning late in the afternoon. Sometimes I went
along the shore to the south, by a long tongue of land partially
clothed with dense tropical brushwood, and partially composed of wide
tracts of sand, on the extremity of which, seven miles from the town,
stands a lighthouse. Sometimes I chose the northern shore, and walked
as far as the mouth of the Zwartkop River. Sometimes, again, I spent
the day in exploring the valley of the Baker River, which I invariably
found full of interest. Furnished with plenty of appliances for
collecting, I always found it a delight to get away from the hotel, and
escaping from the warehouses, to gain the bridge over the river; but it
generally took the best part of half an hour before I could make my way
through the bustle of the wool depôt, which monopolizes the 250 yards
of sand between the buildings and the sea.

Towards the south, as far as the lighthouse, the coast is one
continuous ledge of rock, sloping in a terrace down to the water, and
incrusted in places with the work of various marine animals, especially
coral polypes. Sandy tracts of greater or less extent are found along
the shore itself, but the sand does not extend far out to sea in the
way that it does on the north of the town, towards the mouth of the
Zwartkop.

All the curiosities that I could fish up at low tide from the coral
grottoes, and all the remarkable scraps of coral and sea-weed that were
cast up by the south-easterly storms, I carried home most carefully;
and after my return from the interior, I found opportunity to continue
my collections over a still larger area, and met with a still larger
success.

Accompanied by four or five hired negroes, and by my little black
waiting-maid Bella, I worked for hours together on the shore, and
brought back rare and precious booty to the town.

The capture of the nautilus afforded us great amusement. We used to
poke about the pools in the rocks with an iron-wire hook, and if the
cephalopod happened to be there it would relinquish its hold upon the
rock to which it had been clinging, and make a wild clutch upon the
hook, thus enabling us to drag it out; of course, it would instantly
fall off again; if it chanced to tumble upon a dry place, it would
contract its tentacles and straightway make off to the sea; but if
it lighted on the loose shingle we were generally able, by the help
of some good-sized stones, to pick it up and make it a prisoner. The
bodies of the largest of these mollusks are about five inches in
length, but their expanded tentacles often reach to a measure of two
feet. They are much sought after and relished by the Malays, who call
them cat-fish.

Occasionally we saw young men and women with hammers collecting
oysters, cockles, and limpets, to be sold in the town; and every here
and there were groups of white boys with little bags, not unlike
butterfly-nets, catching a sort of prawns, which some of the residents
esteem a great delicacy. Diver-birds and gulls abounded near the
shallows, the former rising so sluggishly upon the wing, that several
of them allowed themselves to be captured by my dog Spot.

The coast, as I have already mentioned, here forms a wide tongue
of land, half of which is a bare bank, whilst, with the exception
of the extreme point, the other part, near the town and towards the
lighthouse, is clothed with luxuriant vegetation. At least a thousand
different varieties of plants are to be found in the district, and
this is all the more surprising because they have their roots in soil
which is mere sand. Fig-marigolds of various kinds are especially
prominent; here and there citron-coloured trusses of bloom, as large
as the palm of one’s hand, stand out in gleaming contrast to the dark
finger-like, triangular leaves; a few steps further, and at the foot of
a thick shrubbery, appear a second and a third variety, the one with
orange-tinted blossoms, the other with red; and while we are stopping
to admire these, just a little to the right, below a thicket of rushes,
our eye is caught by yet another sort, dark-leaved and with flowers
of bright crimson. Another moment, and before we have decided which
to gather first, something slippery beneath our feet makes us look
down, and we become aware that even another variety, this time having
blossoms of pure white, is lurking almost hidden in the grass. In the
pursuit of this diversified and attractive flora, the multiplicity of
dwarf shrubs, of rushes, and of euphorbias, stands only too good a
chance of being completely overlooked.

  [Illustration: EUPHORBIA TREES.]

For miles this sandy substratum forms shallow, grassy valleys from 10
to 20 feet deep, and varying from 100 to 900 yards in length, running
parallel to each other, and alternating with wooded eminences rising 30
to 50 feet above the sea level.

Westwards from the lighthouse the shore is especially rich in
vegetation. Its character is that of a rocky cliff broken by
innumerable trickling streams. Several farm-houses are built upon
the upper level. The swampy places are overgrown by many sorts of
moisture-loving plants, the open pools being adorned with graceful
reeds, and not unfrequently with blossoms of brilliant hue. The slope
towards the sea is well-nigh covered by these marshes, whilst the low
flattened hills that intervene are carpetted with heaths of various
species, some so small as to be scarcely perceptible, others growing in
bushes and approaching four feet in height. Truly it is a spot where
a botanist may revel to his heart’s content. These heaths not only
exhibit an endless variety of form in their blossoms, but every tint
of colour is to be traced in their delicate petals. The larger sorts
are ordinarily white or grey; the smaller most frequently yellow or
ochre-coloured; but there are others of all shades, from the faintest
pink to the deepest purple.

The heaths that predominate in the southern districts of Cape Colony
are characteristic of the South African flora, though they are a type
of vegetation that does not extend far inland. The largest number of
species is to be found in the immediate neighbourhood of Cape Town and
of Port Elizabeth.

Besides the heaths, lilies (particularly the scarlet and crimson
sorts) are to be found in bloom at nearly all seasons of the year.
Gladioli, also, of the bright red kind, are not unfrequently to be met
with, vividly recalling the red flowering aloe which grows upon the
Zuurbergen. Mosses are to be found in abundance on the downs.

A stranger wandering through this paradise of flowers would be tempted
to imagine that, with the exception of a few insects and song-birds,
animal life was entirely wanting. Such, however, was far from being
the case. Lurking in the low, impenetrable bushes are tiny gazelles,
not two feet high, hares, jerboas, wild cats, genets, and many other
animals that only wait for the approach of nightfall to issue from
their hiding-places.

My excursions to the shore, along the tongue of land, were upon the
whole, highly successful. During my visit I collected a large variety
of fish, crabs, cephalopods, annelids, aphrodites, many genera of of
mollusks, corals, sponges, and sea-weeds, as well as several specimens
of the eggs of the dog-fish.

Nor did I confine myself to exploring the south shore. I wandered
occasionally in the opposite direction, towards the mouth of the
Zwartkop. There the shore for the most part consists of sand, which
extends far out to sea, making it a favourable stranding-place for any
vessel that has been torn from its anchorage during one of the frequent
storms. From the sea I procured many interesting mollusks. Dog-fish
abound near the mouth of the stream, while the river itself seems to
teem with many kinds of fish. The banks, more especially that on the
left, are rich in fossils of the chalk period, and in the alluvial
soil are remains of still extant shell-fish, as well as interesting
screw-shaped formations of gypsum. The coast is flatter here than it is
towards the south, and the large lagoons that stretch inland furnish
a fine field for the ornithologist’s enjoyment, as they abound in
plovers, sandpipers, and other birds. I observed, also, several species
of flowers that were new to me, particularly some aloes, marigolds, and
ranunculuses, and a fleshy kind of convolvulus, which, I think, has not
been seen elsewhere.

Generally I returned home by way of the saltpan, a small salt lake
about 500 yards long by 200 broad, which lies between the town and
the river, and is for part of the year full of water. Here I found
some more new flowers, besides some beetles and butterflies. The
saltpan lies in in a grassy plain, bounded on the west by the slope
on which the town is built. Both the plain and the rocky declivity
produce a variety of plants, but the majority of them are of quite a
dwarf growth; in August and September, the spring months, they abound
in lizards, spiders, and scorpions, and of these I secured a large
collection. On the slope alone I caught as many as thirty-four snakes.
Just at this season, when the winter is departing, the beetles and
reptiles begin to emerge from their holes; but, finding the nights and
mornings still cold, they are driven by their instinct to take refuge
under large stones. Here they will continue sometimes for a week or
more in a state of semi-vitality; and, captured in this condition, they
may easily be transferred to a bottle of spirits of wine without injury
to the specimens.

My inland excursions, which for the most part took the direction of
the valley of Baker River, had likewise their own special charm. In its
lower course the river-bed is bounded by steep and rocky walls, rising
in huge, towering blocks; but higher up there are tracts of pasturage,
where the tall grass is enlivened by a sprinkling of gay blossoms, that
indicate the close proximity of the sea. Scattered over the valley are
farms and homesteads, and in every spot where there is any moisture a
luxuriant growth of tropical shrubs, ferns, and creepers is sure to
reveal itself, and in especial abundance upon the ruins of deserted
dwellings.

In one of the recesses of the valley there is an establishment for
washing wool by steam. At a very short distance from this I found a
couple of vipers rolled up under a stone, in a hole that had probably
been made by some great spider. I seized one of them with a pair of
pincers, and transferred it with all speed to my flask, which already
contained a heterogeneous collection of insects and reptiles. I had
caught the male first, and succeeded in catching the female before
she had time to realize that her mate was gone. I kept them both in
my flask with its neck closed for a time, sufficiently long, as I
supposed, to stupefy them thoroughly, and went on my way. Finding other
specimens I opened my receptacle and deposited them there, but it did
not occur to me that there was any further need to keep the flask shut.
I had not gone far before I was conscious of a strange thrill passing
over my hand; a glance was sufficient to show me what had happened;
one of my captive vipers had made an escape, and was fastening itself
upon me; involuntarily I let the flask, contents and all, fall to the
ground. I was not disposed, however, to be baulked of my prize, and
immediately regaining my presence of mind, I managed once again to
secure the fugitive, and was careful this time to fasten it in its
imprisonment more effectually.

One day, Herr Michaelis invited me to accompany him and another friend
to the high table-land on a bee-hunt. It was an excursion that would
occupy about half a day, and I was most delighted to avail myself of
the offer. We started up the hill in a covered, two-wheeled vehicle,
and turned eastward across the plain that extends in a north-easterly
direction. The plateau was clothed with short grass, and studded with
thousands of reddish-brown ant-hills, chiefly conical in form and
measuring about three feet in diameter, and something under three feet
in height. Those that were still occupied had their surface smooth, the
deserted ones appearing rough and perforated. An ant-hill is always
forsaken when its queen dies, and our search was directed towards any
that we could find thus abandoned, in the hope of securing its supply
of honey. In the interior of Africa a honey-bird is used as a guide
to the wild bees’ nests; but in our case, we employed a half-naked
Fingo, wearing a red woollen cap, who ran by the side of our carriage,
and kept a sharp look-out. It was not long before a gesture from him
brought us to a standstill. He had made his discovery; he had seen
bees flying in and out of a hill, and now was our chance. We lost no
time in fastening up our conveyance, lighted a fire as rapidly as we
could, and in a very few minutes the bees were all suffocated in the
smoke. The ant-hill itself was next cleared away, and in the lower
cells were found several combs, lying parallel to each other, and
filled partly with fragrant honey, and partly with the young larvæ. I
could not resist making a sketch of the structure. The removal of the
earth brought to light two more snakes, which were added to my rapidly
increasing collection.

With these and similar excursions, four weeks at Port Elizabeth passed
pleasantly away. The time came when I must prepare to start for the
interior. Tempting as was the offer that had been made to me to remain
where I was, there were yet stronger inducements for me to proceed. Not
only had a merchant in Fauresmith, in the Orange Free State, held out
hopes of my securing a still more lucrative practice, but Fauresmith
itself was more than sixty miles further to the north, and thus of
immense advantage as a residence for one who, like myself, was eager to
obtain all possible information about the interior of the country.

Besides advancing me the expenses of my journey, Herr Hermann Michaelis
himself offered to accompany me to Fauresmith.

I need hardly say with how much regret I left Port Elizabeth, and all
the friends who, during my visit, had treated me with such courtesy and
consideration.




                              CHAPTER II.

                    JOURNEY TO THE DIAMOND-FIELDS.


It was in the beginning of August that I started on my journey from
Port Elizabeth to Fauresmith, _viâ_ Grahamstown, Cradock,
Colesberg, and Philippolis. My vehicle was a two-wheeled cart, drawn by
four small horses, and the distance of eighty-six miles to Grahamstown
was accomplished in eleven hours.

The beauty of the scenery and of the vegetation made the drive very
attractive. The railway that now runs to Grahamstown also passes
through charming country; but, on the whole, I give my preference to
the district which was originally traversed by road. For the greater
part of the way the route lies beneath the brow of the Zuur Mountains,
which, with their wooded clefts and valleys, and their pools enclosed
by sloping pastures, must afford unfailing interest both to the artist
and to the lover of nature.

Occasionally the trees stand in dense clumps, quite detached, a form
of vegetation which is very characteristic of wide districts in the
interior of the continent; but by far the larger portion of this region
is covered by an impenetrable bush-forest, consisting partly of shrubby
undergrowth, and partly of dwarf trees. Many of these appear to be of
immense age, but many others seem to have been attacked by insects, and
have so become liable to premature decay.

Every now and then our road led past slopes, where the stems of the
trees were covered all over with lichen, which gave them a most
peculiar aspect, and it was a pleasant reminiscence of the woods of the
north to see a beard-lichen (_Usnea_) with its thick grey-green
tufts a foot long decorating the forked boughs as with a drapery of
hoar-frost. In other places, the eye rested on declivities covered for
miles with dwarf bushes, of which the most striking were the various
species of red-flowering aloes, and the different euphorbias, some
large as trees, some low, like shrubs, and others mere weeds, but
altogether affording a spectacle at which the heart of a botanist could
not but rejoice.

Numerous varieties, too, of solanum (nightshade) laden with yellow,
white, blue, or violet blossoms, climb in and around the trees, and
in some parts unite the stems with wreaths that intertwine so as to
form almost an impenetrable thicket, where the grasses, the bindweeds,
the heaths, and the ranunculuses in the very multiplicity of their
form and colour fill the beholder with surprise and admiration. Like a
kaleidoscope, the vegetation changes with every variation of scenery;
and each bare or grassy flat, each grove or tract of bushwood, each
swamp or pool, each slope or plain has ever its own rare examples of
_liliaceæ_, _papilionaceæ_, and _mimosæ_ to exhibit.

Here and there, in the midst of its own few acres of cultivated land,
is to be seen a farm, and at no unfrequent intervals by the wayside are
erections of brick or galvanized iron, which, although often consisting
of only a couple of rooms and a store, are nevertheless distinguished
by the name of hotels.

Throughout this district the fauna is as varied as the flora, and
the species of animals are far more numerous and diversified than in
the whole of the next ten degrees further north towards the interior.
As I had opportunity in my three subsequent journeys to examine the
different animal groups in detail, I shall merely refer here to their
names, deferring more minute description for a future page. Ground
squirrels and small rodents abound upon the bare levels where there
is no grass, associating together in common burrows, which have
about twenty holes for ingress and egress, large enough to admit a
man’s fist. In places where there is much long grass are found the
retreats of moles, jackals, African polecats, jerboas, porcupines,
earth-pigs, and short-tailed armadilloes. In the fens there are
otters, rats, and a kind of weasel. On the slopes are numerous herds
of baboons, black-spotted genets, caracals, jumping mice, a peculiar
kind of rabbit, and the rooyebock gazelle; and besides the edentata
already mentioned, duykerbock and steinbock gazelles are met with
in those districts where the trees are in detached clumps. The
tracts of low bushwood, often very extensive, afford shelter to the
striped and spotted hyæna, as well as to the strand-wolf (_Hyæna
brunnea_); and there, too, amongst many other rodentia is found a
gigantic field-mouse; also two other gazelles, one of them being the
lovely little bushbock. The bushes on the slopes and the underwood
are the resort of baboons, monkeys, grey wild-cats, foxes, leopards,
koodoo-antelopes, bushvarks, blackvarks, buffaloes, and elephants, the
elephants being the largest of the three African varieties. A hyrax
that is peculiar to the locality, and lives in the trees, ought not to
be omitted from the catalogue.

Leopards are more dangerous here than in the uninhabited regions of the
interior, where they are less accustomed to the sound of fire-arms, and
so desperate do they become when wounded, that it is generally deemed
more prudent to destroy them by poison or in traps.

The capture of elephants is forbidden by law; consequently several wild
herds, numbering twenty or thirty head, still exist in Cape Colony;
whilst in the Transvaal, the Orange Free State, and the Bechuana
country the race has been totally annihilated.

Their immunity from pursuit gives them an overweening assurance that
is in striking contrast with the behaviour of the animals of their kind
in Central and Northern South Africa. There a shot, even if two or
three miles away, is enough to put a herd to speedy flight, and they
seldom pause, until they have placed the best part of twenty miles
between themselves and the cause of their alarm; and although within
the last twenty years 7500 elephants have been killed by Europeans, it
is the very rarest occurrence for one of them to make an unprovoked
attack upon a human being. Here, on the contrary, between Port
Elizabeth and Grahamstown, it is necessary to be on one’s guard against
meeting one of the brutes. Just before I returned to Port Elizabeth on
my homeward journey, a sad accident had happened in the underwood by
the Zondags River, which flows partially through the forest. A black
servant had been sent by his master to look for some cattle that had
strayed; as the man did not return, a search was made for him, but
nothing was found except his mangled corpse. From the marks all around,
it was quite evident that a herd of passing elephants had scented him
out, and diverging from their path, had trampled the poor fellow to
death. It should be mentioned, that although ordinarily living under
protection, these ponderous creatures may be slain by consent of the
Government.

  [Illustration: ELEPHANTS ON THE ZONDAGS RIVER.

    _Page 28._]

To enumerate all the varieties of birds to be seen hereabouts
would be impossible; an ornithologist might consume months before he
could exhaust the material for his collection; I will only say that a
sportsman may, day after day, easily fill more than his own bag with
different kinds of bustards, guinea-fowl, partridges, sand-grouse,
snipes and plovers, wild ducks and wild geese, divers and other
water-fowl. The wonderful and beautiful productions of the vegetable
kingdom that excite the admiration of the stranger as he makes his
excursions in this district, whether in pursuit of pleasure or of
science, derive a double charm from the numerous graceful birds and
sparkling insects that hover and flit about them. Here are long-tailed
_Nectariniæ_, or sun-birds, now darting for food into the
cup-shaped blossoms of the iris, and now alighting upon the crimson
flower-spike of the aloe; and there, though not the faintest breath of
air is stirring, the branches of a little shrub are all in agitation;
amidst the gleaming dark-green foliage, a flock of tiny green and
yellow songsters, not unlike our golden-crested wren, are all feasting
busily upon the insects that lie hidden beneath the leaves.

On the tops of the waggon-trees, hawks and shrikes, beautiful in
plumage, keep their sharp look-out, each bird presiding over its own
domain; and no sooner does a mouse, a blindworm, or a beetle expose
itself to view, than the bird pounces down upon its prey; its movement
so sudden, that the bough on which it sat rebounds again as though
rejoicing in its freedom from its burden.

The leafy mimosas, too, covered with insects of many hues, attract a
large number of birds. Nor are the reedy districts at all deficient in
their representatives of the feathered race, but reed-warblers, red
and yellow finches, and weaver-birds keep the lank rushes in perpetual
motion, and make the valleys resound with their twittering notes.

As representatives of the reptile world, gigantic lizards are to be
found near every running water; tortoises of many kinds abound on land,
one sort being also met with both in streams and in stagnant pools;
there are a good many poisonous snakes, such as buff-adders, cobras,
horned vipers, besides coral snakes; likewise a species of green
water-snake, which, however, is harmless. Venomous marine serpents also
find their way up the rivers from the sea.

We reached Grahamstown late at night on the same day that we left Port
Elizabeth, and started off again early the following morning. During
the next two days we had some pleasant travelling in a comfortable
American _calèche_, and arrived at Cradock, a distance of 125
miles. At first the country was full of woods and defiles similar
to those we had passed after leaving Port Elizabeth, but afterwards
it changed to a high table-land marked by numerous detached hills,
some flat and some pointed, and bounded on the extreme north-east and
north-west by mountain chains and ridges. The isolated hills rise from
200 to 500 feet above the surrounding plain, and are mostly covered
with low bushes, consisting chiefly of the soil-exhausting lard-tree.
The valleys display a great profusion of acacias, hedge-thorns and
other kinds of mimosa, but the general type of vegetation which is
conspicuous hereabouts disappears beyond Cradock, and is not seen again
in any distinctness until near the Vaal River, or even farther north.

On our way to Cradock I had my first sight of those vast plains that
stretch as far as the eye can reach, and which during the rainy season
present an illimitable surface of dark green or light, according as
they are covered with bush or grass, but which, throughout all the dry
period of the year, are merely an expanse of dull red desert. They
abound in the west of Cape Colony, in the Free State, in the Transvaal,
and in the Batlapin countries, and are the habitations of the lesser
bustard, the springbock, the blessbock, and the black gnu. Where they
are not much hunted all these animals literally swarm; but on my route
I saw only the springbock, which is found in diminished numbers on the
plains to the north. I did not observe one at all beyond the Salt Lake
basin in Central South Africa; along the west coast, however, as far as
the Portuguese settlements, they are very abundant.

The springbock (_Antilope Euchore_) is undeniably one of the
handsomest of the whole antelope tribe. Besides all the ordinary
characteristics of its genus, it possesses a remarkable strength and
elasticity of muscle; and its shapely head is adorned with so fine a
pair of lyrate horns that it must rank _facile princeps_ amongst
the medium-sized species of its kind. The gracefulness of its movements
when it is at play, or when startled into flight, is not adequately to
be described, and it might almost seem as if the agile creature were
seeking to divert the evil purposes of a pursuer by the very coquetry
of its antics. Unfortunately, however, sportsmen are proof against any
charms of this sort; and under the ruthless hands of the Dutch farmers,
and the unsparing attacks of the natives, it is an animal that is every
day becoming more and more rare.

The bounds of the springbock may, perhaps, be best compared to the
jerks of a machine set in motion by watch-spring. It will allow any dog
except a greyhound to approach it within quite a moderate distance; it
will gaze, as if entirely unconcerned, while the dog yelps and howls,
apparently waiting for the scene to come to an end, when all at once
it will spring with a spasmodic leap into the air, and, alighting for
a moment on the ground six feet away, will leap up again, repeating
the movement like an indiarubber ball bounding and rebounding from the
earth. Coming to a standstill, it will wait awhile for the dog to come
close again; but ere long it recommences its springing bounds, and
extricates itself once more from the presence of danger. And so, in
alternate periods of repose and activity, the chase goes on, till the
antelope, wearied out as it were by the sport, makes off completely,
and becomes a mere speck on the distant plain.

  [Illustration: SPRINGBOCK HUNTING.

    _Page 33._]

But the agility of the nimble creature cannot save it from
destruction. Since the discovery of the diamond-fields thousands
of them, as well as of the allied species, the blessbock and the
black gnu, have been slain. The Dutch farmers, who are owners of the
districts where the antelopes abound, are excellent shots and their
worst enemies. On their periodical visits to the diamond-fields they
always carry with them a rich spoil; and whilst I was there, in
the winter months, from May to September, I saw whole waggon-loads
of gazelles brought to the market. Nevertheless, in spite of the
slaughter, it is a kind of game that as yet has by no means become
scarce, and it is sold in the daily markets at Kimberley and Dutoitspan
at prices varying from three to seven shillings a head.

Springbock hunting is rather interesting, and is generally done on
horseback. The horses, which have been reared on these grassy plains,
are well accustomed to the burrow-holes and ant-hills with which they
abound, so that they give their rider no concern, and allow him to
concentrate all his attention upon his sport. A gallop of about two
miles will usually bring the huntsman within a distance of 200 yards
of a herd of flying antelopes. A slight pressure of the knees suffices
to bring the horse to a standstill, when its rider dismounts and takes
a deliberate aim at the victim. Amongst the Dutch Boers the most
wonderful feats of skill are performed in this way; and I have known
an expert marksman bring down two running antelopes by a single shot
from his breech-loader. Other instances I have witnessed, when, both
shots having missed, or the second having been fired too late, the
herd has scampered off to a distance of 700 yards or more and come to
a stand, when a good shot has made a selection of a special victim for
his unerring aim. Well do I recollect one of these experts pointing to
a particular antelope in one of these fugitive herds, and exclaiming,
“Det rechte kantsche bock, Mynheer!” He brought the creature down as he
spoke.

There is another method of hunting these springbocks, by digging holes
two or three feet deep and three feet wide, in proximity to ponds or
pools in half-dried-up river-beds; in these holes the hunter crouches
out of sight, and shoots down the animals as they come to drink. This
kind of chase, or rather _battue_, is very common in the dry
season, when there are not many places in which the antelopes can
quench their thirst, and is especially popular with the most southerly
of the Bechuanas, the Batlapins, and the Baralongs, who are, as a rule,
by no means skilful as shots.

On the plains between the Harts River and the Molapo a different plan
is often followed. Several men lie down flat on the ground, either
behind ant-hills or in some long grass at intervals of from 50 to
200 yards, and at a considerable distance--ordinarily about half a
mile--from the herd. A large number of men then form themselves into
a sort of semicircle, and, having encompassed the herd, begin to
close in so as to drive them within range of the guns of the men who
are lying in ambush. As the weapons are only of the commonest kind,
often little better than blunderbusses, the success of the movement of
course depends entirely on the first shot. When the party is small,
they not unfrequently spend a whole day waiting most patiently for the
springbocks to be driven sufficiently within range. I have myself on
one occasion seen a party of six of these skirmishers, after watching
with the sublimest patience for many hours, take their aim at an animal
that had been driven within the desired limits; the old muskets went
off with a roar that made the very ground tremble; the volume of smoke
was immense; six dusky faces of the Bechuanas rose from the grass;
every eye was full of expectation; but as the cloud rolled off, it
revealed the springbock bounding away merrily in the distance. The six
shots had all missed.

I feel bound, however, to confess to a performance of my own, about
equally brilliant. After watching one day for several hours, I observed
a few springbocks scarcely more than twenty yards away from me. I felt
quite ashamed at the thought of doing any injury to the creatures, they
were so graceful, but we were really in want of food, and it was only
the remembrance of this that made me overcome my scruples. I could not
help regarding myself almost as a murderer; but if I wanted to secure
our dinner, there was no time to lose. My trembling hand touched the
trigger; the mere movement startled the springbocks, and before I could
prepare myself to fire, they were far away, totally uninjured.

The snare called the hopo-trap, described by Livingstone in his
account of gazelle-hunting amongst the Bechuanas, I never saw anywhere
in use. It would probably be now of no avail, as the game is much
wilder and less abundant than it was in his time.

  [Illustration: ANTELOPE TRAP.]

A still different mode of chasing springbocks has been introduced by
the English, who hunt with greyhounds, not using fire-arms at all.
Mounted on horses, that in spite of being unaccustomed to the ground,
do their work admirably, the pursuers follow on until the gazelles are
fairly brought down by the dogs; although it not unfrequently happens
that the dogs get so weary and exhausted by the run, that the chase has
to be abandoned.

  [Illustration: THE COUNTRY NEAR CRADOCK.]

We only remained in Cradock one day. The town is situated on the left
bank of Fish River, a stream often dried up for months together, so as
to become merely a number of detached pools; but a few hours of heavy
rain suffice to overfill the channel with angry waters, that carry ruin
and destruction far and wide. The great bridge that spanned the river
at the town was in 1874 swept right away by the violence of the flood,
the solid ironwork being washed off the piles, which were themselves
upheaved. The new bridge was erected at a securer altitude, being about
six feet higher.

On the second day after leaving Cradock we reached the town of
Colesberg. Our travelling was so rapid that I had scarcely time
properly to take in the character of the scenery; but seven years
later, on my return in a bullock-waggon, and when progress was
especially slow on account of the drought, I had a fairer opportunity
of examining, at least partially, the geological structure of the
district, and of gaining some interesting information about the
adjoining country.

Towards Colesberg the isolated, flattened eminences gradually
decrease both in number and in magnitude, the country becoming a high
table-land. One of the prettiest parts is Newport, a pass in which
is seen the watershed between the southerly-flowing streams, and the
affluents of the Orange River. The heights in the district are haunted
by herds of baboons, by several of the smaller kinds of antelopes,
and by some of the lesser beasts of prey of the cat kind, principally
leopards. On the table-land itself are to be counted upwards of fifty
quaggas, belonging to the true species, the only one I believe to be
met with in South Africa. I was delighted to find that latterly they
had been spared by the farmers; ten years previously their number had
been diminished to a total of about fifteen heads.

The town is distinguished by a hill, which has the same name as itself,
and which exhibits the stratification of the various rocks of which
the district is composed. Colesberg itself is somewhat smaller than
Cradock, and is situated in a confined rocky vale. The contiguous
heights are for the most part covered with grass and bushwood, of so
low a growth that from a distance they have the appearance of being
almost destitute of vegetation. In summer-time the radiation of heat
from the rocks is so intense that the town becomes like an oven, and is
by no means a pleasant place of residence.

Proceeding northwards, a journey of a couple of hours brought us to
the Orange River, the boundary between the Orange Free State and Cape
Colony. Two hours later we reached Philippolis. The aspect of this
place was most melancholy. The winter drought had parched up all the
grass, alike in the valley and on the surrounding hills, leaving the
environs everywhere brown and bare. Equally dreary-looking were the
square flat-roofed houses, about sixty in number, and nearly all quite
unenclosed, that constituted the town; whilst the faded foliage of a
few trees near some stagnant pools in the channel of a dried-up brook,
did nothing to enliven the depressing scene. The majority of the houses
being unoccupied, scarcely a living being was to be seen, so that the
barrenness of the spot was only equalled by its stillness.

  [Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE DIAMOND-FIELDS.]

Hence, for the rest of the way to Fauresmith, we had to travel in a
mail-cart, a two-wheeled vehicle of most primitive construction. A
drive of three hours in such a conveyance over the best paved highway,
and in the most genial weather, could hardly have been a matter of any
enjoyment; but in the teeth of a piercing cold wind, and along a road
covered with huge blocks of stone, and intersected by the deep ruts
made by the streams from the highlands, and over which, in order to
exhibit the mettle of his horses, our driver persisted in dashing at a
break-neck pace, the journey was little better than martyrdom. The seat
on which three of us had to balance ourselves was scarcely a yard long
and half a yard wide, and in our efforts to preserve the equilibrium
of ourselves and our luggage, our hands became perfectly benumbed with
cold; and, to crown our discomfort, snow, which is of rare occurrence
in these regions, began to fall.

We held out till man and beast were well-nigh exhausted, and had
accomplished about three-quarters of the distance, when the barking of
a dog, the sure symptom of the proximity of a dwelling-house, fell like
music on our ears. The most miserable of Kaffir huts would have been a
welcome sight; my friend declared himself ready to give a sovereign for
a night’s lodging in a dog-kennel; but we were agreeably surprised at
finding ourselves arrive at a comfortable-looking farmhouse, where the
lights seemed to beam forth a welcome from the windows. We were most
hospitably received, and sitting round the farmer’s bountiful board,
soon forgot the troubles of the way.

After the meal was over we went to the door to ascertain the state
of the weather. The snow had ceased almost before our horses were
unharnessed, and, except in the south-east, the direction of the
departing storm, the sky was comparatively clear, and there was a
faint glimmer of moonlight. As I stood listening, I caught again the
screeching note of a bird which already I had heard while sitting
at the table. My host informed me that it proceeded from “det grote
springhan vogl,” and I thought I should like to take my chance at a
shot. The bird was really the South African grey crane, to which the
residents have given the name of “the great locust bird,” on account of
the great service it performs in the destruction of locusts. It is so
designated in distinction to the small locust bird, which migrates with
the locust-swarms. The great cranes (_C. Stanleyi_) never leave
their accustomed quarters.

In the prosecution of my design I crept slowly along, but very soon
became aware that the birds were not wanting in vigilance. The first
rustle made the whole flock screech aloud and mount into the air. I
did not want to fire promiscuously among them all, and so abandoned my
purpose, and came back again. I afterwards observed that these cranes,
together with the crowned cranes (_Balearia regulorum_), and the
herons, as well as several kinds of storks, are accustomed to pass the
night in stagnant waters in order that they may rest secure from the
attacks of hyænas, jackals, foxes, hyæna-dogs (_Canis pictus_),
and any animals of the cat tribe. As soon as darkness sets in the birds
may be observed standing in long rows right in the midst of the pools,
and until the break of day they never quit their place of refuge.
But not even the security of their position seems to throw them off
their guard. I observed during my many hunting excursions, both in the
neighbourhood of the salt-water and of the fresh-water lakes, that a
certain number of sentinel birds were always kept upon the watch, and
that at intervals of about half an hour there was a short chatter, as
if the sentries were relieving guard. A similar habit has been noticed
both amongst the black storks in the Transvaal, and amongst the various
herons in the Molapo river, and in the valleys of the Limpopo and the
Zambesi.

The time came only too soon for us to leave our hospitable quarters. We
set out afresh, and after a miserable jolt of several hours’ duration,
we reached our destination at Fauresmith.

In its general aspect, Fauresmith is very like the other towns in the
Free State. Although consisting of not more than eighty houses, it
nevertheless covered a considerable area, and the clean white-washed
residences, flat-roofed as elsewhere, peeping out from the gardens,
looked altogether pleasant enough. The town is the residence of a
kind of high sheriff, and must certainly be ranked as one of the most
considerable in the republic. The district of the same name, of which
it is the only town, is undoubtedly the wealthiest in the Free State,
and deserves special notice, both on account of its horse-breeding and
of its diamond-field at Jagersfontein.

Like various other towns in South Africa, Fauresmith is enlivened
four times a year by a concourse of Dutch farmers, who meet together
for the combined purpose of celebrating their religious rites and
making their periodical purchases. At these times the town presents
a marked contrast to its normal condition of silence and stagnation;
large numbers of the cumbrous South African waggons make their way
through the streets, and form a sort of encampment, partially within
and partially on the outskirts of the place, the farmers’ sons and
the contingent of black servants following in the train. Many of the
wealthier farmers have houses of their own in the town, sometimes
(where water is to be readily procured) adorned with gardens; but such
as have inferior means content themselves with a hired room or two,
whilst the poorest make shift for the time with the accommodation
afforded by their own waggons. These recurring visits of the farmers
are regarded as important events by the towns-people, and are looked
for with much interest; in many respects they are like the fairs held
in European cities. Especially are they busy seasons to the medical
men, as, except for urgent cases, all consultations are reserved for
these occasions and the majority of ordinary ailments that befall the
rural population abide these opportunities to be submitted to advice.

Here in Fauresmith, just as in similar places with limited population,
the sheriff, the minister, the merchant, the notary, and the doctor,
form the cream of the society.

Nothing could exceed the hopefulness of the temper in which I had
started for this town. Not only had I satisfied myself that I should be
so much farther inland than I was at Port Elizabeth, and consequently
that my advantages would be great in ascertaining what outfit would
be really requisite for my progress into the interior, but I had been
sanguine enough to anticipate that I should be in a position to earn
the means that would enable me to carry out my design. So favourably
had the prospect been represented to me, that I had accepted the
proposition of the Fauresmith merchant in all confidence; perhaps my
helplessness and complete want of resources had made me too trusting; I
was, perchance, the drowning man catching at a straw.

A very few days of actual experience were enough to dispel any bright
anticipation in which I had indulged. I could not conceal from myself
that I was a burden upon the very man who had offered to befriend me,
and induced me to come; his good offices in my behalf necessarily
placed him in a false position with an older friend, a physician
already resident in the town, and to whom he was now introducing a
rival; it was only to be expected that his long-established friendship
with him should prevail over his recent goodwill towards myself; he
saw his mistake, and soon took an opportunity of telling me that if I
proceeded to the diamond-fields I should find myself the right man in
the right place.

I took the counsel into my best consideration, and quickly came to
the conclusion that nothing else was to be done. Accordingly, I made
arrangements to start.

But my difficulties were great. I had hardly any clothes to my back,
my boots were in holes, and I had no money to replace either. I had
no alternative but to get what I required upon credit. I succeeded in
this, and set out forthwith, my pride not permitting me to remind my
Port Elizabeth friend of the kind offer of assistance which he had made
me.

Herr Michaelis once again rendered me the kindest of service; after
advancing me money to forward me on my way, he undertook to convey me
as his guest to the diamond-fields, which he had himself made up his
mind to visit. We were joined by a third traveller, Herr Rabinsvitz,
the chief rabbi for South Africa, from whom I received marked courtesy
and consideration.

Although for the time I was disappointed, I could not feel otherwise
than grateful for the hospitality shown me during my short residence in
Fauresmith, by the worthy merchant. I acknowledge my obligation to him
by this record, and rejoice to remember how I quitted the place with no
ill-will for the past, but with the fullest confidence for the future.

Very monotonous in its character is the district between Fauresmith
and the diamond-fields, the only scenery at all attractive being
alongside the Riet River and in the valley of the Modder, which we had
to cross. At this spot there seemed to be a chance of getting some
sport, and I employed the few minutes during a halt after dinner in
exploring the locality. The Riet River, like a fine thread, flowed
north-westwards in a deep clear channel to its junction with the
Modder, and, as is the case with most of the South African streams in
the dry winter season, there were large pools, nine or ten feet deep
and full of fish, extending right across the river-bed.

The whole valley is thickly covered with weeping willows (_Salix
Babylonica_), and amongst these I found some very interesting
birds. Pushing my way through the brushwood, with the design of making
a closer inspection of one of the pools, I was startled by a great
rustling, and by a chorus of notes just over my head. I stepped back,
and a whole flock of birds rose into the air and settled in a thorn
at no great distance. They were the pretty long-tailed _Colius
leucotis_. I afterwards saw two other varieties of the same species.
One of the flock that I had disturbed perched itself upon a bough
almost close at hand, as if resolved to make a deliberate survey of
the strangers who had intruded on its retirement, but all the rest
had taken refuge in the bush, and were completely hidden from my
view. They are lively little creatures, but very difficult to keep in
confinement; the only caged specimens I ever saw were in Grahamstown,
in the possession of a bird-fancier, who kept them with several kinds
of finches, and fed them with oranges.

The most common birds in the Riet River valley are doves, and
those almost exclusively of two sorts, the South African blue-grey
turtle-dove, and the laughing-dove; of these the latter is found
even beyond the Zambesi; it is a most attractive little creature,
that cannot fail to win the affection of every lover of birds. I had
a couple of them, which I had succeeded in catching after slightly
wounding them. I kept them for years, and they afforded me much
amusement. As early as three o’clock in the morning the male was
accustomed to greet his brooding mate with his silvery laughing
coo, and she would reply in low and tender notes that were soft
and melodious as distant music. I eventually lost them through the
negligence of one of my black servants.

On the plains on either side of the river I found the white-eared
bustard, the commonest kind of wild-fowl in all South Africa; its
cry, from the first day of my journey through the Orange Free State
and the Transvaal to the last, rarely ceased to be heard. It affords
a good meal, and may easily be brought down by the most inexperienced
marksman. As soon as it becomes aware of the approach of a pursuer, it
turns its head with an inquiring look in all directions, and suddenly
dives down; just as suddenly it rises again, shrieking harshly, and
after an awkward flight of about a couple of hundred yards, sinks
slowly to the earth with drooping wings and down-stretched legs. Its
upper plumage is of a mixed brown; its head, with the exception of a
white streak across the cheeks, is black, as are also the throat and
chest; its legs are yellow. Its habitat does not extend beyond the
more northerly and wooded districts of South Africa, and, like other
birds to which I have referred, it is extremely difficult to keep in
confinement.

Our road through the valley led us past Coffeefontein, the second
diamond-field in the Free State, where the brilliants, though small,
are of a fine white quality. Late in the evening we crossed the river
by the ford, spending the night in an hotel on the opposite bank.

  [Illustration: HOTEL ON THE RIET RIVER.]

It is just as well for me to disabuse the reader’s mind of any idea
he might form, that the building designated by the name of an hotel
had any pretensions answering to the title it claimed. A couple of
wooden huts, covered with canvas, and serving alike for dwelling-rooms
and business-offices, with a few sheepskins and goatskins laid upon
the ground for sleeping accommodation, may be said to be a fair
representation of the average arrangements, external and internal, of
such establishments. A violent draught penetrating every cranny kept
some tattered curtains--so old, that it was impossible to say what
their original texture had been--in continual motion; and so intense
was the cold, that I was sorely tempted to drag down the ragged
drapery, stop its fluttering, and wrap it round me for a covering.

In such quarters, anything like refreshing sleep was not to be
expected, and we were glad enough next morning, after an untempting
breakfast, to turn our backs upon the place. In the afternoon we
arrived at Jacobsdal, another comfortless looking place, consisting
of about five-and-twenty houses, scattered over a scorched-up
plain. A long drive on the following morning was to bring us to the
central diamond-fields. The nearer we approached, the more dreary
did the landscape become; the bushes dwindled gradually, and finally
disappeared, so that a few patches of dry grass were alone left as the
representatives of vegetation.

The first day on which I set my eyes upon the diamond-fields, I must
confess, will ever be engraven on my memory. As our vehicle, drawn by
four horses, made its rapid descent from the heights near Scholze’s
Farm, and when my companion, pointing me to the bare plains just ahead,
told me that there lay my future home, my heart sank within me. A dull,
dense fog was all I could distinguish. A bitter wind rushing from the
hills, and howling around us in the exposure of our open waggon, seemed
to mock at the protection of our outside coats, and resolved to make us
know how ungenial the temperature of winter in South Africa could be;
and the grey clouds that obscured the sky shadowed the entire landscape
with an aspect of the deepest melancholy.

Yes; here I was approaching the Eldorado of the thousands of all
nations, attracted hither by the hope of rich reward; but the nearer I
came, the more my spirit failed me, and I was conscious of a sickening
depression.

Immediate contact with the fog that had been observed from the distant
heights, at once revealed its true origin and character. It proved
to be dense clouds of dust, first raised by the west wind from the
orange-coloured sand on the plains, and then mingled with the loose
particles of calciferous earth piled up in heaps amidst the huts on
the diggings. So completely did it fill the atmosphere, that it could
require little stretch of imagination to fancy that it was a sandstorm
of the Sahara. As we entered the encampment the blinding mist was so
thick that we could only see a few yards before us; we were obliged to
proceed very cautiously; and before we reached the office of my friend
the Fauresmith merchant, another mile or so farther on, our faces and
our clothes were literally encrusted. We only shared the fate of all
new-comers, in feeling much distressed and really ill; the very horses
snorted and sneezed, and showed that the condition of things was no
less painful to them than to their masters.

Both at Bultfontein and Dutoitspan these accumulations of the
commingled ferruginous and calciferous sand fill the atmosphere to a
height of a hundred feet, and involve everything in dim obscurity. Here
and there, on both sides, right and left, wherever the gloom would
permit me to see, I noticed round and oblong tents, and huts intended
for shops, but now closed, built of corrugated iron. Under the fury of
the wind, the tent-poles bent, and the ropes were subject to so great
a strain that the erections threatened every moment to collapse. Many
and many a sheet of the galvanized iron got loose from the roofs or
sides of the huts, and creaking in melancholy discord, contributed,
as it were, to the gloominess of the surroundings. In many places,
too, the pegs that had fastened the tents to the ground had yielded
to the pressure, and sheets of canvas were flapping in the air like
flags of distress; whilst the only indication of human life was a few
dim figures in the background, which on closer inspection proved to be
some natives, resting their half-naked bodies after their toil in the
diggings.

Truly it was a dreary scene--and I sighed at my dreary prospect.




                             CHAPTER III.

                          THE DIAMOND-FIELDS.

   Ups-and-downs of medical practice--Mode of working
   the diggings--The kopjes--Morning markets--My first
   baboon-hunt--Preparation for first journey.


I had a still further cause to be downcast. It was not only that the
aspect of the diamond-fields was altogether unattractive, and that the
weather was so rough and changeable that I felt it depressing in the
extreme, but I was perplexed at what seemed to me the hopeless state of
my finances.

Relying upon the promises of the Fauresmith merchant who had
befriended me, I had not taken the precaution, before leaving Port
Elizabeth, to obtain from Herr Adler the letters of introduction
which would have been of service to me on my first arrival at the
diamond-fields; and I found myself in the predicament of having only a
few shillings of ready money, barely sufficient to pay for a night’s
lodging and a day’s victuals. I had to gain the means of subsistence,
and I had to provide for my further journey. One of two courses lay
open to me: I must either dig for diamonds, or I must at once secure a
practice, or at least earn some fees among the heterogeneous and often
doubtful characters of which the population was composed. My difficulty
was increased by the very slight knowledge I had of either Dutch or
English; the few words I had acquired barely sufficed to enable me to
make myself understood, and were quite inadequate to allow me to carry
on a conversation upon the most ordinary matters, far less to offer my
services to a patient whose sickness required advice. But on the horns
of a dilemma I was not long in coming to a decision. I knew that even
to commence the avocation of digging necessitated the possession of at
least some capital, which I could not command, whilst, by borrowing a
few simple articles of furniture for a week or two, and starting as
a doctor, in a tent for a surgery, I might hope to be consulted by
clients who would pay me fees enough to ward off starvation.

I had one letter in my pocket which was the means of introducing me
to an opening. The person to whom it was addressed was out of health,
and was contemplating a visit to Europe for the medical advice which he
could not obtain in the diamond-fields. By good fortune he understood
German, and having ascertained from the letter which I forwarded to
him that I was a doctor, and being of a practical and frugal turn of
mind, he came to the conclusion that, before incurring the delay and
expense of the long journey, he would try whether I could do him any
good. In the course of a week he found my treatment of his disorder
so successful that he professed himself quite satisfied as to my
capability, and definitely abandoned his projected return to Europe. I,
for my part, had not quite the same practical qualities as my patient;
and not having made any precise terms as to remuneration, was obliged
to submit to whatever payment he chose to make. Under the circumstances
I was only too thankful to accept an old half-rotten tent-hut and a
few items of common furniture; although I should not omit to mention
that, at the solicitation of my friend of Fauresmith, he subsequently
consented to advance me the sum of 5_l._ by way of loan.

The hut of which I had thus become the proprietor was about eleven
feet wide by ten feet long and seven feet high. It consisted simply
of deal laths covered with canvas so decayed by damp that it kept
out neither wind nor dust. The laths creaked and rattled with
unintermitted vibration; and had it not been for the shelter afforded
by a substantial warehouse erected by its side, I am certain it would
not have survived the gusts that beat upon it; as it was, it seemed to
be warped and twisted out of shape as often as the wind blew with any
violence from the south. It was situated in the direct road leading
to Kimberley, which is the chief settlement of the district, but it
was separated from the highway by a broad gutter, over which it was
necessary to jump in order to reach the door; and this was nothing
more than a light framework covered with canvas, which I endeavoured
by night to make somewhat secure by supplementing its fastening with
an iron bar that I happened to find on the bare earth which formed the
floor of my apartments. A piece of old sheeting that flapped backwards
and forwards with every breeze did duty as a window.

The interior was partitioned into two chambers by a dilapidated green
curtain. The larger compartment was my work-room and surgery, the
furniture consisting of an unpainted table, two old chairs, and a
couple of chests, one of which held my drugs and the other my books.
If patients happened to flock in unusual numbers, as they would when
a farmer brought his whole family of children, these chests were the
best substitutes I could provide for the comfortable arm-chairs and
lounges with which my European colleagues are accustomed to furnish
their consulting-rooms. The second apartment, considerably smaller than
the other, was my kitchen, dining-room, and bedroom all in one, and
necessarily the place where, until I could afford to keep a servant, I
was obliged to perform the most menial offices in my own behalf. The
bed, in which during the cold weather I spent many a sleepless night,
corresponded only too well with the rest of the furniture, the only
article with the least pretension to respectability being a little case
which I had brought with me from Europe.

My desire to get away into the interior grew stronger and stronger.
However, before I could gain the means to start, I had first to pay
off my liabilities, which included 300 florins owing to the Holitzer
Savings Bank, and 16_l._ due to Herr Michaelis. I resolved
accordingly to limit myself to the barest necessaries of life, and
for some months, in spite of being absolutely compelled to incur the
expense of changing my abode, I practised the most rigid economy, and
lived in the completest seclusion. The high price of provisions, and
the low value of money considerably alarmed me, and I made a point of
transacting all my housekeeping myself. My rule was to wait until it
was dark, and the streets were empty, and then to go out, and after
making my few purchases to get in a sufficient supply of water for the
next day; of this I always required plenty, not only because it was
necessary for the preparation of my drugs, and the general demands of
my profession, but because I was my own laundress and my own cook. It
is almost superfluous to add, that I was likewise my own tailor.

But I have no wish to dwell upon any further details of my
household difficulties at that time, beyond making the remark that
all my proceedings had to be carried on with the utmost secrecy.
Any revelation of the true state of my private affairs would have
seriously affected my position as a medical man. It was with no little
satisfaction that I found myself working my way, little by little,
into a very fair practice. Between the 26th of August, the date of my
arrival, and the beginning of October, I had accumulated enough to
discharge my liabilities.

By degrees I was able to launch out a little in my expenditure, and
to emerge in some measure from my seclusion; and although I was
obliged still to reside in a tent-hut, which was a source of personal
inconvenience to myself, I never found it any detriment to my public
position. It was a very great relief to me that a considerable number
of Germans, on hearing of the arrival of a new doctor who could speak
their language, were glad to make their way to my quarters. Their
visits were a mutual advantage to both parties, for while they had the
benefit of my German, I managed, from my intercourse with them, to make
a wonderful progress in my knowledge of Dutch.

The diamond-fields of South Africa lie chiefly in the English province
of Griqualand West, a district that simultaneously with the discovery
of its subterranean treasure became an apple of discord among the
native princes. The Griqua king Waterboer, and the Batlapin chiefs
Yantje and Gassibone, all strove for an absolute possession, though
it was very certain that none of them had any definite or just claim
to assert. Waterboer possessed the principal part of the land on each
side of the lower course of the Vaal and Modder Rivers; Yantje held the
territory north of the mouth of the Harts River; while Gassibone made
good his sway over the district that lay between the Vaal and the Harts
on the north-east. The Korannas occupied the Vaal valley from Fourteen
Streams to the mouth of the Harts.

Although the first diamonds that were found were by the Boers somewhat
contemptuously called “pebbles,” the discovery stirred up amongst them
a keen desire for the acquisition of territory; and when the annexation
of the diamond-fields was subsequently effected by the English, the
controversy that was waged between the Boers and the Government of
the Orange Free State was very bitter, both sides claiming to be the
rightful possessors by virtue of concessions that had been made to
them by one or other of the native chieftains, Waterboer, Yantje, and
Gassibone.

As the weakest must always go to the wall, so the Orange Free State,
after a brief effort to assert the rights of ownership, was obliged
to yield; nevertheless it did not cease to insist upon the justice
of its original claim. All attempts of England to arbitrate between
the new province and the Republic, all efforts to gain recognition
for laws that should compass on equal terms the mutual benefit of the
conflicting States, were altogether unavailing, until at last England
herself, either prompted by her own magnanimity, or impelled by some
sense of justice, finally purchased the claims of the Free State by a
compensation of 90,000_l._, besides giving a pledge to contribute
15,000_l._ towards the extension of a railroad which should
connect the Free State with one of the lines in the eastern portion of
Cape Colony.

The whole region of the diamond-fields may be subdivided into three
districts. The oldest fields are on the Vaal River, and extend from
the town of Bloemhof, in the Transvaal, to the river-diggings, at
the confluence of the Vaal and the Harts; next to them are the
dry-diggings, so called because the “pebbles” were originally obtained
by sifting the earth and not by washing it--these lie around the town
of Kimberley; and thirdly, there are the fields at Sagersfontein and
Coffeefontein, in the Orange Free State, beyond the English dependency
in Griqualand.

The settlement at the river-diggings sprang up with a rapidity as
marvellous as those of California. At first, Klipdrift, opposite Pniel,
a mission station, was regarded as its capital and centre; but within
the last nine years, Kimberley (formerly known as New Rush) has become
so important, that it necessarily holds first rank.

Within a year after the discovery of the first “crystal stone” in the
valley of the Vaal, where the indolent Korannas alone had dragged on
a dreamy existence, long rows of tenements had started up, although
for the most part they were merely unsubstantial huts; but very soon
South Africa, from end to end, became infected with the diamond-fever.
Young and old, sick and healthy, servants and masters, country-folk
and townsmen, sailors and soldiers deserting their calling; and Dutch
Boers, with their whole families, yielded to the impulse to migrate to
the alluring scene that had suddenly become so famous. The encampments
that they made were transformed with incredible speed into regular
towns of 4000 or 5000 inhabitants; and when the intelligence was
circulated that the “Star of Africa,” a diamond of eighty-three carats
and a half, had been picked up, every European steamer brought over
hundreds of adventurers, all eager to take their chance of securing
similar good fortune for themselves.

Thus in addition to Klipdrift grew up the town of Hebron, River Town,
Gong Gong, Blue Jacket, New Kierk’s Rush, Delportshope, Waldeck’s
Plant and others, the glory of many of them, however, being destined
to be very transient, some of them passing away as suddenly as they
had risen. The report was no sooner spread that on the plain of the
Dutoitspan Farm, below the river-diggings on the Vaal, diamonds had
been found in abundance on the surface of the earth, than the old
stations were forthwith abandoned, every one hurrying off in hot haste
to the dry-diggings, which were supposed to be much more prolific.

Out of the large number of those who succeeded in quickly realizing
large fortunes, a large proportion squandered their wealth as rapidly
as they had acquired it; and as the new settlements soon developed
themselves into dens of vice and demoralization, the majority of the
population, being mere adventurers, came utterly to grief.

On the Vaal itself the diamonds are collected from the alluvial
rubble. This rubble consists of blocks of greenstone, containing fine,
almond-shaped chalcedonies and agates, some as large as a man’s fist
and like milk quartz, others smaller and of a pink or carmine tint, and
occasionally blue or yellow; it covers the district between Bloemhof
and Hebron, and is known distinctively as Vaal-stone. But besides
greenstone, the rubble includes a number of other elements; it consists
partially of fragments of the trap-dyke that is characteristic of the
district between Hebron and the mouth of the Harts, as well as of
nearly all the hills in the east of Cape Colony, in the Orange Free
State, and in Griqualand; it contains likewise a certain proportion
of milk-quartz, clay-slate, sand yielding magnetic iron, and numerous
pyropes; these vary in size from that of a grain of millet to that of
a grain of maize, and were awhile mistaken for garnets and rubies;
moreover, it contains portions of the limestone that extends both ways
from the Vaal, though not forming the actual valley of the river; it is
a stone in which I never discovered any fossils.

The diggers, after obtaining their portion of diamond rubble from the
“claims,” as the parcels of ground allotted them by the authorities
were called, had first to convey it down to the river; they had next
to sift it from the heavier lumps of stone, and then to wash it in
“cradles,” three or four feet long and about one and a half wide, until
they had entirely got rid of the clay. In the residuum they had finally
to search carefully for the treasure. The stones found in this locality
were, as a general rule, very small, but their colour was good and
their quality fine; they were called “glass-stones,” whilst the larger
and more valuable brilliants obtained in the two other districts were
distinguished as “true river-stones.”

  [Illustration: SQUARE IN DUTOITSPAN.]

The second, and hitherto the most important diamond-field, is that
which I have called the central-diggings; they are what formerly were
understood by the dry-diggings. They include the four mines in the
Kimberley district, and form two separate groups, the north-western
containing Kimberley, and Old de Beers adjoining it on the east, and
the eastern group containing Dutoitspan, with Bultfontein closing it
in on the south and west. This eastern group lies about two miles from
Kimberley, and about one mile from Old de Beers. Kimberley itself is
about twenty-two miles to the south-east of Klipdrift, and is the most
important of the four mines I have mentioned, being that where the
greatest numbers of diamonds of all qualities are found. The stones
found at Dutoitspan are valued very much on account of their very
bright yellow colour, those obtained at Bultfontein being generally
smaller, but equal in purity to the “river-stones.”

Diamond-mines vary in depth from forty-five to 200 feet, and may be
from 200 to 700 yards in diameter. The diggings are locally called
“kopjes,” being divided into “claims,” which are either thirty feet
square, or thirty feet long by ten feet wide; of these a digger may
hold any number from one to twenty, but he is required to work them
all. For the ordinary “claim” the monthly payment generally amounts
to about twenty florins for ground-rent and for water-rate, made to
the Government and to a Mining Board, which consists of a committee of
diggers appointed to overlook the working of the whole. In Dutoitspan
and Bultfontein there is an additional tax paid to the proprietors, i.
e. the owners of the farms; but in the Kimberley and Old de Beers group
the Government has purchased all rights of possession from the firm of
Ebden and Co.

I have little doubt in my own mind that these pits are the openings
of mud craters, but I am not of opinion that the four diggings are
branches of the same crater; it is only a certain resemblance between
the stones found in Old de Beers and those found in Kimberley that
affords the least ground for considering that there is any subterranean
communication between the two diggings. At the river-diggings I believe
that one or more crater-mouths existed in the vicinity of the river bed
above Bloemhof.

The palmy days of the diamond-diggings were in 1870 and 1871, when,
if report be true, a swaggering digger would occasionally light his
short pipe with a 5_l._ note, and when a doctor’s assistant was
able to clear 1100_l._ in seven months. But since 1871 the value
of the diamonds has been constantly on the decline; and although the
yield has been so largely increased that the aggregate profits have
not diminished, yet the actual expenses of working have become tenfold
greater. Notwithstanding the fall in the value of the stones, the
price of the land has risen immensely. At the first opening of the
Kimberley kopje, the ordinary claim of 900 square feet could be had for
10_l._ It is true that the purchase only extended to the surface
of the soil; but now that the excavations are made to the depth of
about 200 feet, some of the richer pits fetch from 12,000_l._ to
15,000_l._, a proof that the real prosperity of the diamond-fields
has not deteriorated, because (just as in the gold diggings) the
rush of adventurers eager for sudden wealth has been replaced by the
application of diligent and systematic industry.

As time has progressed, the mode of obtaining the diamonds has
gradually become more skilled and scientific. As the diggers at first
worked in their allotments with the assistance of what hired labourers
they could get, Hottentots, Kaffirs, and Bechuanas, their apparatus
was of the rudest character. It consisted only of a stake, driven
into the ground at the upper edge of the pit, with an iron or wooden
pulley attached, enabling them to draw up the buckets of diamond-earth
by hand. This acted very well as long as the walls of the mine were
perpendicular; but when they were at all on the incline, or when, as
would sometimes happen, the earth had to be carried a hundred yards
or more over the heads of other workers, one stake was driven in at
the bottom of the pit and three at the top, and between two of these a
cylinder, two or three feet in diameter, or a great wheel, was kept in
motion, by natives turning handles at both ends; by this means the full
buckets were lifted, and the empty lowered simultaneously; a rope of
stout iron-wire connected the third upright stake with the one at the
bottom of the pit, and along this there ran two grooved iron rods, that
supported a framework, provided with a hook to which the bucket could
be attached. As the excavations grew deeper, and the diggers became the
owners of more than one claim apiece, the expense of raising the larger
quantities of earth, and the waste of time, began to be seriously felt,
and led to the introduction of wooden whims--great capstans worked by
horse-power. Many of these cumbrous machines are still in use; but the
more wealthy diggers, as well as the companies that have recently been
formed, now generally employ steam engines.

  [Illustration: KIMBERLEY KOPJE IN 1871.]

This is specially the case at the Kimberley kopje. Although these
are the smallest of the diamond-mines, they are the richest, and
consequently attract the largest proportion of diggers. It soon became
impossible to find space for the separate hand-pulleys to stand side by
side, and huge deal scaffolds were erected, three stories high, so that
three distinct lifting-apparatus could be worked one above another,
without requiring a basement area of much more than six square feet. At
present, however, the edge of the embankment is almost entirely covered
with horse-whims and steam-engines that have been brought from England.

  [Illustration: HORSE-WHIMS IN THE DIAMOND QUARRIES.]

It is no longer allowable for the diamond-earth to be sorted near the
place where it is brought up, a practice that was found to lead to much
annoyance and disagreement; but the owners are obliged to subject their
earth to scrutiny, either within the limits of their own allotments, or
to have it conveyed to a piece of ground hired outside the town for the
purpose.

  [Illustration: KIMBERLEY.

    _Page 69._]

The process of sorting is also more complicated than it used to be.
Formerly the earth containing the diamonds was cleared of its coarser
parts by means of sieves; it was then turned over and shaken out on to
a flat table, where it was merely examined by the help of a stick, or a
little piece of iron. It necessarily resulted from this rough-and-ready
method that many diamonds were overlooked, and the earth thus examined
was afterwards sold as being very likely to yield a number of small
stones, and often proved very remunerative to the buyer.

Now, however, washing-machines, some of them very elaborate, worked
by steam-power, horse-power, or hand-labour, according to the means
of the claim-owners, are almost universally employed. The earth is
gradually cleared of clay, until only the stony particles remain;
and these are rinsed repeatedly in water until they are thoroughly
clean; then they are placed, generally every evening, in sieves for
the moisture to drain off, and after a slight shaking, they are turned
on to a table before the claim-owner or overseer. Whatever diamonds
there may be, are generally detected at first sight; being heavier than
other stones, they gravitate to the bottom of the fine-wire sieve, and
consequently come uppermost when the contents are turned out for the
final inspection.

In proportion as the machinery has become more elaborate, and the
modes of working more perfect, so have expenses increased, and
diamond-digging now requires a considerable capital. This of course has
tended to clear the work of a large crowd of mere adventurers, and made
it a much calmer and more business-like pursuit than it was originally.
The authorized rules and regulations for the protection of the diggers
and of the merchants have likewise materially improved the condition of
both.

  [Illustration: KIMBERLEY KOPJE IN 1872.]

As viewed from the edge of the surrounding clay walls, the appearance
of one of the great diamond-fields is so peculiar as almost to defy any
verbal description. It can only be compared to a huge crater, which,
previously to the excavations, was filled to the very brink on which we
stand with volcanic eruptions, composed of crumbling diamond-bearing
earth, consisting mainly of decomposed tufa. That crater now stands
full of the rectangular “claims,” dug out to every variety of depth.
Before us are masses of earth, piled up like pillars, clustered like
towers, or spread out in plateaus; sometimes they seem standing erect
as walls, sometimes they descend in steps; here they seem to range
themselves in terraces, and there they gape asunder as pits; altogether
they combine to form a picture of such wild confusion, that at dusk, or
in the pale glimmer of moonshine, it would require no great stretch of
imagination to believe them the ruins of some city of the past, that
after the lapse of centuries was being brought afresh to light.

But any illusion of this sort is all dispelled, as one watches the
restless activity of the throngs that people the bottom of the deep dim
hollow. The vision of the city of the dead dissolves into the scene
of a teeming ant-hill; all is life and eagerness and bustle. The very
eye grows confused at the labyrinth of wires stretching out like a
giant cobweb over the space below, while the movements of the countless
buckets making their transit backwards and forwards only add to the
bewilderment. Meanwhile to the ear everything is equally trying; there
is the hoarse creaking of the windlasses; there is the perpetual hum of
the wires; there is the constant thud of the falling masses of earth;
there is the unceasing splash of water from the pumps; and these,
combined with the shouts and singing of the labourers, so affect the
nerves of the spectator, that, deafened and giddy, he is glad to retire
from the strange and striking scene.

To this brief and general description of the diamond-fields, I would
be allowed to add one or two characteristics of the street-life in the
settlements.

The morning-markets, or public auctions, which are held every day,
except Sunday, in the open places in Kimberley and Dutoitspan, are very
interesting. They are presided over by a market-master or auctioneer,
appointed by the Government, with permission, however, to hold private
sales for his own benefit. The office may be somewhat trying to the
lungs, but it has the reputation of being very lucrative. From six to
eight a.m., the whole of the unpaved market-place, which lies in the
heart of the iron and canvas dwellings, is covered with ox-waggons,
laden not only with flour, fruit, vegetables, potatoes, maize,
butcher’s meat, poultry, and other items of consumption, but with
firewood, forage, wood for thatching, and all the other necessaries
of domestic economy. The sales are exclusively by auction. Five per
cent. of the proceeds goes to the Government, and two per cent. to the
market-master. The prices of the commodities are very fluctuating,
demand and supply being continually out of proportion. I have known the
cost of a sack of potatoesto vary from 15_s._ to nearly 4_l._

Besides the ordinary morning-markets, public auctions are held on
all days except holidays in halls erected for the purpose; and in
the evenings, sales of articles not included in the usual routine
of business are carried on in the canteens, to which purchasers are
invited by announcements on large placards, notifying that drink will
be distributed gratis during the proceedings.

In former years, the majority of the canteens were shocking dens of
vice, forming the worst feature of the district; latterly, however,
there has been a considerable diminution in their number. The wells
that have been made in various parts of the streets, and in the
outskirts of the settlements, have been an inestimable boon, and the
throngs that ever surround them show how highly they are appreciated.
The water is drawn up in buckets by Kaffirs, or by horses; it is sold,
not given away, and many hundreds of pounds are readily expended for
the supply of that which is as indispensable for the diamond-washing as
for the common offices of life.

A residence in the diamond-fields undoubtedly has various
inconveniences, but nothing is so trying as the atmosphere. Every day
during the dry winter season, lungs, eyes, and ears are painfully
distressed by the storms of dust that impregnate the air with every
conceivable kind of filth, which, penetrating the houses, defiles (if
it does not destroy) everything on which it rests. The workers in the
diggings, the drivers of waggons, and all whose occupations keep them
long in the open air, are especially sufferers from this cause.

Nor is the summer much less unpleasant. During the rainy season the
country is flooded by the violent downpour; the rain often fills up the
shallow brack-pan (one of the salt lakes that dry up every year, lying
in a depression about half a mile long at the south end of Dutoitspan,
in a single day; and as the immediate consequence, the streets of
Kimberley become so deluged that the traffic is impeded, and foot
passengers can only with difficulty proceed at all. The new corporation
has endeavoured to remedy this difficulty by laying down gutters, and
taking other measures for draining the thoroughfares.

For a few days’ recreation at Christmas, 1872, I agreed to go on an
excursion, baboon hunting, on the neighbouring hills in the west of the
Orange Free State--the party consisting, besides myself, of a young
German merchant, who found more opportunity for such diversion here
than at home; a young Pole from Posen, whose mere love of adventure had
brought him to the diamond-fields; and a Fingo, engaged to carry our
baggage, and whose burden kept him in a perpetual vapour-bath. The Pole
and myself were both duly equipped in proper hunting-costume.

I was very anxious to make myself acquainted with the animal-world
on the hills that bounded the eastern horizon; and, having visited my
patients, and ascertained that they could dispense with my services for
a short time, I started off from Dutoitspan early in the afternoon of
Christmas Eve. Involuntarily the memories of former Christmas Eves rose
up within my mind, and I could not help comparing the past with the
present, contrasting the festivities of the cheerful room, well warmed
to defy the wintry rigour, with the tropical glow of an African sun,
where not a single external circumstance recalled an association with
the season.

Our way led at first across a plain covered with dwarf bushes, few of
them exceeding eighteen inches high. Here and there, in depressions of
the soil, were patches of soft green turf, long grass only growing upon
higher and more rocky places.

All over the wide flats were innumerable swarms of insects, of which
several species of locusts especially attracted our notice. Some of
these were very beautiful in colour, and were armed with a kind of
projecting shield. Varying from two to three inches in length, their
cylindrical bodies were either of light or dark green, the wing-sheaths
being bordered with red. In quite a sluggish condition thousands of
them had settled on the milk-bushes (_Euphorbiaceæ_), and the
least touch made them fall to the ground, apparently lifeless. On my
journey from Port Elizabeth I had wondered how it was that the locusts,
subject to the attacks of almost countless enemies of the feathered
tribe, from the eagle to the wild duck, should venture so constantly
to settle in the most exposed parts of the bushes; and I now solved
the mystery by discovering through my sense of smell that they eject a
most offensive fluid, the disgusting odour of which we had the greatest
difficulty in removing from our hands even after a thorough scrubbing
with sand.

Besides the locusts, we found several kinds of beetles--some
sand-beetles, two large ground-beetles, and a leaf-beetle that gleamed
amidst the foliage with a metallic sheen. The small variety of the
vegetation, and its scorched-up condition, was quite enough to explain
the entire absence of butterflies, although moths of many kinds were
present to supply their place.

We saw hardly any quadrupeds. Excepting some great shrew-mice, we
came across nothing but a bright red rodent (_Rhyzæna_) and a
ground-squirrel. These were sitting up on their hind quarters, close
to the aperture of their underground retreats; only waiting a moment,
as if to scrutinize the new comers, they made off with all speed, the
_Rhyzæna_ grunting softly, the squirrel giving a shrill, sharp
whistle.

The bird of which we saw the greatest numbers was the small dark South
African starling, which ever hovers over the numerous ant-hills or
perches on the top of solitary thorns. It is a lively little creature,
careful to survey a stranger only from a prudent distance, and given to
frequent the deserted holes of rodents and ground-squirrels, especially
betaking itself thither when chased or wounded.

After we had proceeded about an hour and a half we reached the
border of one of the rectangular “pans” which are the miniature
representatives of the large shallow salt-lakes that are so
characteristic of South Africa. The saltpan itself was dry, but close
beside it was a small rain-pool full of greenish water, a little of
which, mixed with a spoonful of brandy, we found palatable enough.
Hereabouts we fell in with a Kaffir tending some sheep; and having
purchased his goodwill by a little present of tobacco, we induced him
to give us what information he could about the various farms lying
further eastward. We had fixed upon a farm known both as Kriko Farm
and as Kuudu Place for our headquarters, from which we could make
excursions to the hills.

  [Illustration: KAFFIR SHEPHERD.]

Towards evening we reached the first spur of the heights in the Free
State, running due north and south. The vegetation was already becoming
more luxuriant. A large number of shrubs that from the diamond-fields
had looked mere specks turned out to be camel-thorn acacias, their
broad-spreading crowns and great flat seed-pods declaring them akin to
the mimosas. Since that date most of them have fallen under the axe,
and they have been reduced to ashes as fuel at the diggings. Their
trunks are often two feet thick, covered with a rough dark-grey bark,
full of knots, and yielding a sound hard wood. Two things particularly
arrested our attention; first, the great thorns growing in pairs three
inches long, with their points far asunder, and at the base as thick
as a man’s finger; and, secondly, the collections of strange birds’
nests hanging down from the branches. These nests belonged to a colony
of the sociable weaver-birds (_Philetærus socius_), and their
construction was very singular. When the birds have found a suitable
branch, the whole flock sets to work with the industry of bees to make
a common erection that may shelter them all. Each pair of birds really
builds its own nest of dry grass and covers it in; but so closely are
the nests fitted together, that when finished the entire fabric has the
appearance of one huge nest covered in by a single conical roof, the
whole being often not less than three feet high and from two to five
feet in diameter. The boughs which project beyond the structure are not
unfrequently known to break under the accumulated load. The entrances
to all the separate nests are from below, an arrangement by which they
might be presumed to be sheltered, not merely from the rain, but from
attacks of any kind; this, however, is by no means the case, and they
are liable to be invaded by the larger kinds of snakes, such as the
cobra. I myself, some years later, was successful in killing a great
snake just as it had crept into one of these weaver-birds’ nests. I
was at Oliphantfontein Farm, and happened to catch sight of its tail
just as the huge reptile was beginning its work of depredation. It had
killed and thrown out several birds, and was commencing to devour the
eggs and fledglings inside; it snapped viciously at every parent bird
that was not scared away by its hissing. I was afraid, if I fired, that
I might only kill the birds that I was desirous to save; accordingly,
I took up a stone, and flung it with so good an aim that I brought the
creature down to the ground, where a couple of shots soon despatched it
before it could make good a retreat.

As evening drew on we arrived at a grassy plain that extended to the
hills, three miles away. Here, beneath a jutting eminence, were two
small huts, forming a canteen kept by a native; but its existence was a
proof to us that we were in the road between the diamond-fields and the
Free State. We declined an invitation from the host to sleep here; and
although we had to make our way through deep sand-drifts, we resolved
to go on further.

It was quite late when we reached the Kriko Farm. I had made up my
mind to spend the night in the open air; and as we were all very
thirsty, we followed out the glimmer of some water until we reached a
half-dry pool, at the edge of which was a level spot that we selected
as our camping-place for the night.

Supper was soon ready. A few red-legged plovers and some small bustards
(of the kind that the Boers call “patluperks”), which we had shot in
the course of the day, afforded us a meal that we thoroughly enjoyed;
nor had we a less hearty relish for a cup of tea, although it was made
from the water of the pond which, when we came to see it by daylight,
we were compelled to confess that nothing but the most agonizing pangs
of thirst could have induced us to taste. Even in the fire-light it
flickered with all the colours of the rainbow, but by the light of day
it revealed putrescence itself, and even the cattle refused to drink it.

While we were sitting round our fire, talking over the incidents of
the afternoon, we were favoured by a visit from three Korannas. They
had seen our light from the farmhouse, about a hundred yards away, and
had supposed that we were a body of Basutos, from the west of the Free
State, travelling in search of work, and were not a little surprised to
come upon a party of white men enjoying themselves in an encampment.
They did not stay long with us; and as soon as they were gone, and the
barking of the dogs at the farm had ceased, a dead silence ensued,
broken only by the chirping of a little grasshopper. After the dusty
atmosphere of Dutoitspan, the pure, fresh air was most delightful to us
all, and we soon resigned ourselves to sleep.

Early in the morning we explored the immediate neighbourhood of the
farm. It lies in a wide valley, into which open several cross-valleys
formed by outlying chains of hills. The hillsides are steep, often
almost perpendicular, exhibiting huge blocks of trap. It was a
refreshing thing for our eyes to look upon such a rich expanse of
vegetation, even the flat summits of the hills being clothed with
arborescent mimosas. Except some striped mice, we saw no mammalia
at all, but birds of many sorts--turtle-doves, plovers, long-tailed
black and white shrikes, and a whole flock of common brown carrion
hawks--were perching upon the rocks, which were so white with the
guano that they could be seen fifteen miles away. Besides these, we
came across some small red falcons and several handsome fork-tailed
kites. Altogether it was a favourable opportunity, of which we did not
fail to take advantage, of filling our bags betimes with some dainty
morsels for dinner. Meanwhile we were able to make some additions to
our entomological spirit-flasks, in the way of curious frogs, spiders,
lizards, and chameleons.

On our way back from our morning ramble we met the farmer. In answer
to my inquiry how we ought to proceed to get at the baboons on the
hills, he was extremely communicative. He said that there were two
herds in the neighbourhood, the smaller and wilder of which generally
went in the morning to drink in an adjoining glen, but the other was
not so shy, and ventured every day to the second pool beyond where we
were standing. He complained of them as a great and perpetual nuisance.
They were always on the look-out, and no sooner was a field or a
garden left unguarded, than they would be down at once, break through
the hedges, and devour the crops. They were likewise very destructive
amongst the sheep. If a shepherd happened to leave his post for ever
so short a time, or even to fall asleep, the baboons, who had been
watching their chance from the heights, would be down upon the flock in
the valley, and seizing the lambs, and ripping up their stomachs with
their teeth, would feast upon the milk they contained; then leaving
the poor mangled victim writhing on the ground, would lose no time in
repeating the terrible operation upon another. This was a statement
that I have since often had confirmed.

So pitiable was the farmer’s account of the losses he had in various
ways sustained through the baboons, that we could quite understand
the grin of satisfaction with which he learnt our object. He became
more and more loquacious in his desire to render information; and
when I further explained to him that we were anxious to get some of
their skins to stuff, and to carry off some of their skulls, he was
quite astounded; he had never heard of such a thing, and exclaiming,
“Allmachtag, wat will ye dun?” he walked off, shaking his head, to tell
his wife of the doctor’s “wonderlijke” proposal to shoot a “babuin,”
and to send its skin and its skull all the way to “Duitsland.”[2]

Many of the Free State farmers are simple and thoroughly good-hearted
people, requiring only a little more culture to make them most
agreeable companions. Among all my patients I never found any more
grateful.

About the middle of the morning we left Kuudu Place and started
eastwards, in the hope that we might be in time to catch the smaller
herd at their drinking-place. We passed several huts occupied by
Basutos and Korannas employed as labourers on the farm. The Basutos
come from their homes in the east, with their wives, to hire themselves
to the farmers; in return for which they receive their food, and an
annual payment of a stipulated number of sheep, or occasionally one or
two oxen, or a mare and foal, being moreover allotted a certain portion
of land, where they may grow sorghum, maize, gourds, or tobacco.

During my subsequent travels, I learnt that many of the better class
of farmers are really owners of small Basuto villages, from which they
hire the population in this way. Mynheer Wessels, the proprietor of the
canteen we had passed the day before, was a type of this class; his
farm had a circumference of many miles, although he did not cultivate
a thirty-sixth part of it. To provide himself with labourers, he had
obtained the ownership of a district where the harvest had been lost
through drought, and had found the residents only too glad to leave
their homes on the Caledon River, and to migrate to more favourable
quarters.

One very marked ethnographical distinction exists between the tribes of
the Basutos and the Korannas in the way they build their huts; those
of the Basutos being made of boughs in a cylindrical form, about three
feet in diameter, and protected by conical roofs of reeds and dry
grass, while the Korannas usually adopt the form of a hemisphere, and
construct them of dead branches loosely covered with mats.

We had the honour of being surveyed by one of the black ladies;
she wore nothing but a short petticoat of grey calico, and her
forehead, cheeks, and breasts were tattooed in dark-blue ochre with a
complication of wavy lines. She only looked at us from the boundary of
her own domain.

Outside one of the Koranna huts my attention was caught by a man
shabbily dressed in European costume, towards whom an old woman, also
in dirty European dress, was hastening, brandishing a huge firebrand,
from which a volume of smoke was pouring into the air. I was curious to
know what the enormous firebrand could be wanted for, and could hardly
believe that it was merely to light the man’s short pipe; he did not
move a muscle of his countenance, but lowering it steadily with his
hand, brought it into its due position and completed his object. I
advanced towards the phlegmatic smoker, and found him courteous enough
to answer a few inquiries as to what was the best route we could take
to the hills.

It took little more than half an hour to reach the top of the hill,
which proved to be an undulating plain, covered with bushes and blocks
of stone. When we had advanced some distance along it, we found
ourselves approaching the pool of which the farmer told us, and could
distinctly hear the hoarse barking of the baboons. Looking across to
the opposite side, about 300 yards away, we caught sight of a herd of
seven, only four of them full grown, that seemed to pause and scan us
carefully before they decamped to a glen on the right. With all speed
we followed them for a little way, observing how the wet footprints
showed that they were just returning from their drinking-place.

We did not, however, go very far in pursuit, being more desirous of
falling in with the other and larger herd. Having knocked over another
brace or two of doves, as a further contribution to our larder, we
sat down to enjoy a mid-day repast, keeping up a careful scrutiny
of the slopes all around us. We seemed to be watching all in vain,
when suddenly, in the direction of the farm, there was to be heard an
outcry, which as suddenly again died away. Some tall mimosas prevented
us seeing to any great distance one way towards the farmhouse, and
a stone wall, some twelve feet high, hindered us the other way from
getting a view of the bottom of the hills, so that we really had not
the chance of ascertaining the cause of the commotion. By way of a
joke, I said that perhaps the baboons had taken advantage of our
dinner-hour to go and pay the farmer a visit. Scarcely had I said the
words when a big baboon came springing up, not much more than 200 yards
away, to the left; then another, then another and another, until there
was a whole herd of them, going leisurely enough, and squatting down
ever and again upon the stones. The farmer, with a bevy of servants,
was in full chase; they were armed with sticks and stones, and kept
shouting vehemently. Here we thought was a good chance for us; we would
mount the hill across the line of the retreat, without diverting the
attention of the baboons from the noisy crowd that was following them;
and thus I hoped we might be able to get within gunshot unobserved.

As one of our party had only small shot, and the other nothing but a
stick, I insisted upon their remaining close at my side, knowing that a
full-grown baboon, when infuriated, is as dangerous a foe as a leopard.

We were more than half-way up the hill before there was a chance at
all; and when a baboon did appear at last above us, it managed so
adroitly to be always either beneath a bush or behind a stone, that to
take a fair aim was simply impossible.

When the brute had gained the top of the hill, of course it was hidden
from view; but we persevered, in hopes that on reaching the summit, if
we did not catch sight of the same one again, we might see another. So
far we were not disappointed. We had hardly finished our ascent when
we spied a full-grown female, scarcely fifty yards in front of us.
By ill-luck, however, I failed to secure a shot at it; first, one of
the black farm-servants came between me and my mark just at the very
instant when I was about to fire; and when I next managed to get within
fair range, one of my friends raised such a prodigious shout that
the creature bounded far away; so that I had to go on in a prolonged
pursuit, only at last to find that the chase must be abandoned as
fruitless.

It may well be supposed that it was not quite in the best humour that
we retraced our steps. It was not only that the last chance for that
day had been missed, but it was most unlikely that so favourable an
opportunity for getting near that herd would occur again.

On our return the Korannas informed us that what I had spoken of only
in jest, had really transpired in fact; the baboons, at the very hour
when we were taking our refreshment, had been attracted by the bleating
of some lambs, and began to make an attack upon the sheep-kraal.
Detected in time, they were driven off; and in order to prevent them
from repeating their visit, a pursuit had been set on foot.

The men told us, however, that so far from being effectually scared
away, the baboons would be sure to come and drink at the other pond.
Upon hearing this all our disappointment and fatigue were forgotten at
once, and we were off without delay to the spot that was pointed out.

  [Illustration: BABOON-HUNT.]

The pond, full of rain-water, lay in the valley; on the left, not
a quarter of a mile off, were the hills we had just quitted; and
opposite, on the right, was another ridge of hills, perhaps a mile
away. Three sides of the pond were embanked, the embankment facing the
house being of stone; the soil was sandy; the muddy water in one place
was running in a little creek; some shrubs were growing between the
clefts of the stones, and behind one of these, high enough to conceal
our heads, we took up our position.

Only a few minutes had elapsed when one of the farm-boys drew our
attention to what seemed little more than a couple of dark specks
on the slope of the hills to the right; but we could soon see that
they were moving, and when they came within half a mile of us, we
could distinctly recognize them as a herd of baboons. The boy said he
was quite sure that they were on their way to the water; but to our
surprise they did not make any further advance. A quarter of an hour
elapsed; half an hour; still no symptom of their approach. All at once,
as if they had started from the earth by magic, at the open end of the
pond, not sixty yards from our place of ambush, stood two huge males.
When or how they had got there no one could tell; probably they had
come by a circuitous way through the valley, or it might be that they
had crept straight down through the grass; they had certainly eluded
our observation.

Being anxious to watch the movements of the animals, and to ascertain
whether they belonged to the herd playing under the mimosas, I
refrained from firing, and determined to see what would follow next.
Both baboons sprang towards the water, and leaning down, drank till
they were satisfied; then, having gravely stretched themselves, they
stalked away solemnly on all fours in the direction of the herd.
There was little doubt, therefore, that they belonged to them, and
had been sent forward to reconnoitre; for as soon as they got back,
the entire herd put itself in motion, and made its way towards the
pond. There were mothers taking care of their little ones; there were
the half-grown animals, the boys and girls of the company; but there
did not seem to be more than three or four full-grown males. At first
only one baboon at a time came to the water’s edge, and having taken
its draught retired to the rest; but when about ten of them had thus
ventured separately, they began to come in small groups, leaving the
others rolling and jumping on the sand.

Our amusing study was very nearly being interrupted by the approach
of two Koranna women, who came from the farm with their pitchers, to
fetch water; but we were able to make signs to them not to come on, and
thus continued to abide our time till we could get a shot. It was not
long before two males--the same, I had no doubt, which we had noticed
before--came and squatted themselves one on each side of the little
creek, which certainly was not more than two feet across. When they
stooped to drink, their heads could not have been four inches apart.
Here was my chance. Crack went my rifle. But instead of either of them
dropping, the two baboons started up; by a mutual instinct they both
clutched their noses, gave a ringing bark, and scampered off. The whole
herd took the alarm, and joining in the shrieking clamour, were soon
lost to sight. One or two, however, of the larger animals seemed to lag
behind, and to look inquiringly, as if to ascertain the true condition
of affairs.

We went down and examined the spot where the baboons had been drinking,
and could come to no other conclusion than that the bullet had passed
exactly through the narrow interval that had parted their heads; it had
lodged just about three feet behind them.

Until the evening we waited and watched, coming to the conclusion that
we would make our night encampment upon the spot; but nothing more
was seen of the herd, although their noise could be heard all night
long. Again next morning we kept a steady look-out, but they did not
allow themselves to be seen. Likely enough they could spy us out from
their position on the heights, and they were not inclined to venture
from a retreat where their instinct told them they were masters of the
situation.

After the exertions and disappointments of the day, all my companions
seemed only too glad of their repose, and were soon fast asleep. I
could not sleep at all; the perpetual barking of the baboons disturbed
me; but beyond that there was not a sound to be heard; the breeze even
was hushed. It was one of those nights which, under South African
skies, never fail to leave a lasting impression upon the traveller’s
mind. Although the sky was dark the atmosphere was clear, and countless
little clouds, varying in tint from milk-white to a brownish grey,
hovering everywhere overhead, formed a canopy so exquisite in its
beauty that it could never fade from the memory.

Our Christmas excursion thus came to an end.

My medical practice continued to increase so rapidly, that I was able
to lay by considerable sums towards the undertaking on which I was
resolved. During the month of January, 1873, I purchased a waggon and
a good many of the requisites for travelling; and early in February I
considered my resources such as to justify my setting out on my first
long journey, which, however, was to a certain extent to be only one of
reconnaissance.




                              CHAPTER IV.

                     FROM DUTOITSPAN TO LIKATLONG.

   My travelling companions--Departure from the
   diamond-fields--The Vaal River and valley--Visit to Koranna
   village--Structure of Koranna huts--Social condition of
   the Korannas--Klipdrift--Distinction between Bechuanas and
   Korannas--Interior of a Koranna hut--Fauna of the Vaal valley--A
   bad road--A charming glen--Cobras and their venom--Ring-neck
   snakes--The mud in the Harts River.


Having completed my equipment, and made all necessary preparations,
I had next to make a decision, most important in expeditions of
this kind, as to the individuals who should accompany me. My first
idea had been to take with me only a few black servants; but on due
consideration, I found it advisable to abandon this, and to travel
with a party of white men. Without any hesitation my choice fell upon
the same two young men who had been my companions in the baboon-hunt
at Christmas; and, as a third associate, I invited Friedrich Eberwald,
a native of Thuringia, to join us. He was an excellent fellow, who
subsequently proved one of my most faithful friends, and in my second
journey afforded me very valuable assistance; he had always had an
irresistible love of seeing foreign lands, and after having visited
nearly all Europe and Asia Minor, and many parts of North and South
America, he had come to try his luck in the diamond-fields, where,
however, he had been very moderately successful.

The real object that I contemplated in my first journey was to accustom
myself to the climate by spending a few weeks in the open air, as well
as to ascertain by actual experience what amount of provisions and
other necessaries would be required for a more prolonged expedition
into the interior. My scheme was to go direct to Klipdrift, then down
the valley of the Vaal River as far as the mouth of the Harts River,
and after making our way north-east up the Harts valley, so as to get
some acquaintance, if we could, with the Batlapin tribes, to return and
reside again for a time in my old quarters at the diamond-fields.

In a party consisting of four men, five horses, and five dogs,
we quitted the dusty atmosphere of Dutoitspan, and after several
_contretemps_ not worth recording, we reached the heights that
border the banks of the Vaal River beyond Hebron, and with much
satisfaction gazed upon the refreshing green of the valley, being
very shortly afterwards gratified by the view of the river itself,
then moderately full of water. On the southern bank we could discern
the scattered huts of Pniel, a small Koranna village and a German
missionary station.

  [Illustration: “FORE-SPANNING.”]

This village had a most melancholy aspect, and a visit there
convinced me that amongst no other native race, with the exception,
perhaps, of the Matabele, have missionary labours been so ineffectual
as among the Korannas. Their circumstances, their social condition, and
their culture are all of the very lowest grade; and without accepting
any of the benefits of civilization, they seem only to have adopted
its vices; and drunkenness, entailing disease and its other terrible
consequences, prevails most lamentably amongst them.

  [Illustration: KORANNAS.]

Of all South African races, the Korannas bestow the least labour
upon the structure, and the least care upon the internal arrangements
of their dwellings. Their indolence may be attributed to, or aggravated
by, the climate; but in want of energy the two Hottentot tribes, the
Korannas and the Griquas, surpass even the calumniated Bushmen, who,
at any rate, contrived to decorate the walls of the natural caves they
inhabited with drawings in ochre, and to adorn their stone roof with
figures, however roughly chiselled, of men and animals, and other
objects of nature. It is only when he is utterly without the means of
procuring the brandy which is his sole and engrossing desire, that a
Koranna is ever known to rouse himself from his habitual sloth, and
inaptitude for endurance, to make an effort to hire himself out to an
employer.

  [Illustration: KORANNA HUTS IN THE VALLEY OF THE HARTS RIVER.

    _Page 96._]

The huts may be seen either singly or in small groups, sometimes on
the bare hillside, sometimes on the river-bank, or at the edge of a
saltpan, or more rarely in the rocky glen of the river; they scarcely
ever exceed twelve feet in diameter, and five feet in height; their
shape, as far as its general want of symmetry allows it to be defined,
may be said to be hemispherical; and they are all quite unenclosed.
Their construction, as their appearance suggests, is of the most
primitive order; the women build them by simply taking a number of
branches, about six feet in length, arranging them in a circle, tying
their upper ends all together in a bundle, and throwing some rush mats
over the framework thus hastily put up. The external fabric is then
complete. An aperture is left large enough to admit a man on all-fours;
but this, which is the only communication with the open air, is often
closed by another mat hung over it from the inside, where everything is
as squalid and comfortless as can be conceived. A hollow dug out in the
centre is the only fireplace; a pole, supported by two forked uprights,
supports the entire wardrobe of the household, which rarely consists of
more than a few tattered rags of European attire, and some sheepskins
and goatskins; half a dozen pots and pans complete the inventory of
the furniture. Although, as I have said, the huts ordinarily have no
enclosure, yet where the cows and goats are exposed to the nocturnal
attacks of hyænas or leopards, a sort of shelter is occasionally made
of dry mimosa branches, but as a general rule they have only a dunghill
for their accommodation. In these dreariest of abodes a dull, dumb
silence usually prevails; and it is only when brandy has been brought
in from the neighbouring town, or procured from some itinerant dealer,
that there is any animation or excitement. Morning and evening, as
the naked children drive the cattle to their pasturage, or bring them
back, there is some transient exhibition of vitality in the community;
otherwise all is stillness and stagnation.

As an exceptional case, when a Koranna of somewhat superior means can
afford himself the luxury of a few Makalahari and Masarwa as servants
and slaves, a little agriculture is carried on, but it is well-nigh
always on a very limited scale. No doubt many parts of the country
offer great natural advantages for farming operations; and if a little
labour were spent in forming embankments, and in judiciously diverting
the streams of the Harts and Vaal rivers, the produce in all likelihood
would be very abundant.

As a distinct race, the Korannas are dying out. In this respect,
they are sharing the lot of the Hottentots proper who dwell in Cape
Colony and Griqualand West, and of the Griquas whose home is in New or
East Griqualand, or what is called Noman’s-land round Rockstadt. So
continual has been the diminution of their number, that they are not
half what they formerly were, and their possessions have diminished
in a still greater proportion. Lazy and dirty, crafty, and generally
untruthful, living without a thought beyond the immediate present,
capable of well-nigh any crime for the sake of fire-water--to my mind
they offer an example of humanity as degraded and loathsome as can be
imagined. Employ them in the far wilderness, where no European is at
hand to supply them with spirits, and it is possible that they might be
found more desirable than Kaffirs for cattle-drivers or horse-breakers;
but after making several trials of them myself, and using every effort
to keep them sober, I was always compelled to give up in despair.

We stayed in Pniel nearly three hours, our road, after we quitted it,
lying across some high bushy plains covered with drifts of loose sand,
which tried our horses sorely. Nothing could be much more comfortless
than our encampment at night; and we were glad to start off at early
dawn next morning on our way to Klipdrift.

The road, which had hitherto been somewhat monotonous, was now varied
by little valleys alternating with bushy plains. Steinbocks and
duykerbocks also enlivened the scene, and numbers of small bustards
gambolled in the thickets that in some places rose from six to twelve
feet in height. The gazelles conceal themselves throughout the day
beneath the low bushwood, the steinbock (_Tragulus rupestris_)
especially very rarely leaving its retreat, except at night or at the
approach of danger; it is consequently unaccustomed to exposure to
broad daylight, a circumstance to which I attribute the blindness of
nine out of ten of those which have been kept in confinement; with
the duykerbock (_Cephalolophus mergens_) the blindness is not so
common, as it often issues forth in the daytime in search of food.
Practised shots hunt both these gazelles with a rifle, but under any
circumstance it requires a very skilful hand to bring down one of the
little creatures, which are under two feet high, at a distance of 300
yards.

There are sportsmen, as they call themselves, who hunt these graceful
animals with greyhounds--a rough method of torture that has been
introduced by white men into all parts of the world. Formerly dogs
were only employed by the natives of South Africa in hunting ferocious
and dangerous animals, or such as were required for the sake of their
skins. Amongst these may be reckoned the South African jackal (_Canis
mesomelas_ and _cinereus_), the caama-fox, the earth-wolf
(_Proteles Lalandii_), and the genet.

The steinbock--or “steenbuck,” as it is called by the Boers--and
the duykerbock are represented all along the wooded slopes of the
plateaus of South and Central Africa down to the coast by the grysbock
(_Tragulus melanotis_) and the small blauwbock (_Cephalolophus
cæruleus_); whilst towards the north their place is taken by the
orbeki, that are found living in pairs on the plains in the salt lake
district, and in small herds beyond the Zambesi.

Travelling here across the wooded hills was a business that in itself
occupied all our attention; for the road was full of stones, just like
the dry bed of a torrent, and our waggon was jolted about with such
violence that it cost us the life of one of our dogs that was caught
unawares under the wheel. It was a relief to find ourselves at the Vaal
River ferry, where, for the sum of ten shillings, we were all taken
across.

On reaching the right bank of the Vaal, we made our encampment at the
foot of a hill not far from Klipdrift. Compared with the other towns in
South Africa, Klipdrift may be called pretty. About 150 little houses,
built partly of stone and partly of iron, are all that remain of what
was once the capital of the river-diggings, which had a population
of 5000 or more. They lie upon the slope of some low hills that are
scarcely eighty feet above the level of the river-bed, and are covered
with countless blocks of dark brown trap.

Coming from the south-south-east, the river here makes a bend to
the west, and in various places, both above and below the town, its
murmuring stream is broken by a number of little islands, sometimes
rocky, sometimes overgrown with grass, and occasionally covered with
trees, all contributing an air of pleasantness to the general scene. At
the time of my visit tall trees were growing on both banks, the left
bank being considerably higher than the right.

The inhabitants of the native quarter of Klipdrift, consisting of
Batlapins and Barolongs, are very industrious. The men get their living
as day-labourers, while the women earn their share of the housekeeping
expenses by doing laundry-work; and when they are engaged in washing
linen on the banks of the river, they give a picturesque and animated
character to the scene.

Even the most cursory glance is sufficient to detect the difference
between the Koranna and Bechuana races; and there can be no hesitation
in affirming that the representatives of the Bechuanas, the Batlapins
and Barolongs, are by far the more comely, both in face and form.
Varying in complexion from a dull black to a deep brown, their
features, if not handsome, could hardly be called plain, whilst the
yellow-brown countenances of the Korannas are literally ugly, the
eyes being deeply sunk, the nose scarcely developed at all, the
jawbone thick, the lips far protruding. The skull corresponds with the
ignoble profile, and is small and narrow. The Koranna women, too, are
especially disfigured by an awkward gait, which seems to arise from
some singular formation of the lower vertebral column. Either their
cheeks or their foreheads are usually daubed with red ochre or tattooed
with a labyrinth of blue lines; and I have seen many of them with both
forehead and cheeks so covered with brown and black streaks that they
had precisely the appearance of monkeys.

  [Illustration: INTERIOR OF A KORANNA HUT.]

During a visit to the Koranna quarter I entered one of the huts. The
scene was truly strange. In a hollow in the middle of the hut were some
glowing embers; in the midst of the embers was a fleecy object, which
on a second glance I perceived to be a lamb in the process of roasting.
Two women, naked to their waists, were lounging on some mats smoking.
Several children, quite naked, their skins, naturally yellow, begrimed
with the blackest dirt, were playing about; while the head of the
family, in the tattered remnants of an old European coat, was sitting
close to the hearth, stirring the ashes, and intently watching the
cooking. All of a sudden he made a very loud smack with his tongue--a
signal, I imagined, that the meal was ready, an opinion in which I
was confirmed by seeing him expel from his mouth the lump of tobacco
which is never dispensed with except for the purpose of eating. As soon
as the lamb had been removed from the fire, and the scorched fleece
had been torn off, the carcase was cut up and distributed rapidly in
allotted rations. The children gnawed away greedily at their portions,
but the elders had knives with which, close to their lips, they cut off
morsels of the lump, which was held, one end in the left hand, and the
other between their teeth.

Besides the flesh of animals, of which the favourite parts are the
entrails and the brains, the Korannas take meal-pap, boiled gourds,
and milk; but they hold fish, crabs, and mollusks generally in utter
abhorrence. In this respect they are like most of the tribes in the
interior, although along the sea-coast many natives have been known
who for a long period have subsisted upon fish as the chief article of
their diet.

The whole neighbourhood doubtless abounds with many rare species of
animals. The valleys, with their rich tropical vegetation, the marshes
contiguous to the river, the densely wooded banks, the river-bed, alike
where it is stony and where it is muddy, must all be equally prolific;
but I am sorry that I had no leisure to make proper investigation. My
stay at Klipdrift was necessarily very short, and I could only get
a superficial acquaintance with the environs as we hurried through
them. But the place is like an oasis in the bare monotony of the
South African highland, and would be sure to yield a rich harvest to
any naturalist who could linger there for some time. Even during my
rapid transit I observed several interesting kinds of falcons and
sparrow-hawks, as well as owls of different sorts, horned owls, dwarf
owls, and owls whose special haunts seemed to be hills, and trees,
and swamps. I noticed, likewise, several distinct varieties of crows,
and in the thickets on the river-bank and near the farms I reckoned
no less than five different species of starlings, two of which, one
quite small, the other larger with a long tail, struck me as being very
pretty. Shrikes abounded, but were even surpassed in numbers by the
granivorous song-birds, amongst which were several of the long-tailed
finches. Thrushes and other insectivorous birds, such as the wagtail
and the reed-sparrow, were likewise to be seen. Of the woodpecker tribe
I only noticed two examples, but I saw several of the sun-birds, and
a kind of bee-eater, as well as two sorts of kingfishers and cuckoos.
Swallows and a kind of goat-sucker were occasionally seen skimming
along; and in addition to all these there were representatives of
nearly all the feathered races of South Africa, especially of the
doves, lesser bustards, plovers, ducks, and divers.

Amongst the reptiles, three kinds of land-tortoises were frequently
to be turned up between the stones in the hills; they were the common
tortoise, the common South African tortoise, and another of a flat
shape, with square green marks in the middle of its shell.

Of fish I observed five species, one of which, the South African
silurus, with its flat smooth head, is found as far north as the other
side of the Zambesi in fresh water as well as in the salt-pans and the
salt rivers.

In the neighbourhood of Klipdrift I made an exchange which seemed to
me advisable. I bartered four of my horses for a team of six oxen,
and although I was a pecuniary loser by the transaction, I could not
be otherwise than satisfied when the bargain was concluded, as the
horse disease, which rages every year, had broken out in the district,
and I had observed several carcasses bleaching in the sun. Had it not
been for this disease, I could have obtained a far better price for my
horses, but under the circumstances the owner of the oxen hesitated
long before he would entertain the proposal for exchange at all. He
assured me that I should find the whole six to be quiet and docile, and
all that draught-oxen ought to be; however, I soon discovered that two
of them were so wild as to be almost unmanageable. My change of team
consequently involved me in engaging two additional black servants--one
to lead the foremost of the three pairs, another to urge them on by the
free use of the whip.

I had no difficulty in finding what I required. In the Koranna
village, one of my companions had fallen in with a German, who had
taken up his residence there, and I applied to him to inquire among
the natives for a couple of strong young men, who would come up the
country with me for a few weeks. In the course of the day he brought
me a Koranna lad of about sixteen, and a Koranna half-breed, named
Gert, both of whom professed themselves ready to engage themselves to
me for the work I wanted. I was to pay them at the rate of 8_s._
6_d._ a week each.

After laying in an adequate stock of tea, sugar, and meal, we
left Klipdrift, and, according to my scheme, proceeded northwards
towards the confluence of the rivers, to the district inhabited
by the western Batlapins--where I wished to explore the deserted
river-diggings--taking Gong Gong on the way. The country over which we
passed was a high table-land, wooded in parts, and dotted at intervals
with settlements, both of Korannas and Batlapins; it was slightly
undulated, and sloped sharply down on the west towards the Vaal.

A special interest, both to the sportsman and the naturalist, is
awakened by the fact that the district lying between the Harts and
Vaal Rivers is the first in which, approached from the south, herds of
the striped grey gnu (_Catoblepas Gorgon_) are to be seen. By the
Boers called “the blue wildebeest,” and by the Bechuanas known as the
“kokon,” this animal ranges northwards all over the Orange Free State,
and beyond the Zambesi. It is, although larger, less wild than the
black or common gnu, and its horns are of a different shape, being bent
downwards and forwards, more like those of our own shorthorns. Huntsmen
distinguish the two species by the colour of their tails; the black
gnus have white tails, whilst the blue-grey gnus can be recognized at
a great distance by their black tails, and by the black stripes on
the upper and front parts of their bodies. They must rank with the
springbock and blessbock gazelles, in being the most common game on the
treeless plains, from the western region of Cape Colony as far as lat.
23° north.

Late in the afternoon we turned into a small glen, at its opening into
the Vaal valley. A few little canvas huts, and some tents, could be
seen peeping gracefully from the dark green foliage, and constituted
all that now remained of the once flourishing town of Gong Gong.

Hence we proceeded still northwards. Some white specks in the
distance, on the steep rocky cliffs overhanging the Vaal, marked the
sites of New Kierke Rush, and other places that a few years since had
been the prosperous settlements of the river-diggings. The journey
from Gong Gong to Delportshope, which is about a mile from the mouth
of the Harts, was one of the most uncomfortable that I have ever made
in a bullock-waggon, and I was at a loss to comprehend how, in the
flourishing times of the diggings, such a road could have sufficed for
the requirements of a population of some thousands. It was no better
than the channel of a boulder-stream, and travelling along it was
equally difficult and painful. No sooner had one of our back wheels,
by the combined efforts of the six oxen goaded on mercilessly by the
driver’s whip, been dragged out of a hole left by a rain-pool, than
one of the front wheels would come in contact with a huge stone a foot
high, which it was impossible to surmount. To add to our difficulties,
the oxen began to be restive, and to get beyond control; and so violent
was the jolting, that my barometer was ruined. It was not surprising
that the journey occupied about three times as long as we had
calculated; nor was it much consolation to perceive, from the fragments
of broken waggons which we passed, that others before us had fared even
worse than ourselves.

  [Illustration: BATLAPIN BOYS THROWING THE KIRI.

    _Page 109._]

My attention was for a while diverted from my own affairs, by meeting
a Batlapin carrying a leveret, and the “kiri” with which he had
killed it. This is a very favourite weapon of both the Zulus and the
Bechuanas. It is generally made of wood, but amongst the northern
Bamangwato it is sometimes formed of rhinoceros horn; it varies from
a foot to a yard in length, having at one end a knob, either plain or
carved, as large as a hen’s egg, or occasionally as large as a man’s
fist. In hand to hand conflicts it is a very effectual and deadly
weapon, but it is chiefly used for hunting, and is hurled, by some
tribes, with a marvellous precision. It was with the “kiri” that the
Matabele Zulus dashed in the skulls of the male adult population of the
rebel Makalaka villages.

The country now sank gradually toward the Harts River, and the valley
lay broad and open, bounded on the far north by the N’Kaap, the rocky
and wooded slope of the highland. The scenery at the confluence of the
rivers had always been described to me as pretty, but I found that the
term was only comparative, the district of Griqualand West appearing to
me singularly deficient in natural beauty.

After rushing on their way from the south in numerous rapids, the
waters of the Vaal here subside into a broad muddy channel, and flow
peacefully on to the mouth of the Harts River, which comes from the
north-east. Just before the streams unite, the Vaal makes a sudden turn
to the west, and so flows on for a little distance, when it bends away
in a south-south-west direction. Where it makes this last bend, the
bank of the river is swampy and overgrown by trees, and is the haunt
of wild cats, lynxes, and other beasts of prey, besides herds of wild
swine.

The southern portion of the right-hand bank is a fertile plain,
though it is only close to the river-mouth that trees grow to any
considerable size. The upper layer is loam upon a substratum of clay.
The opposite shore of the Harts River is much higher, rising in a rocky
cliff composed of stratified schist, underlying chalk-beds poor in
fossils, and forming the table-land connected with the N’Kaap. This
highland descends abruptly to the Vaal River, just above the bend, and
is intersected by a glen which lies above 300 yards from the mouth of
the Harts River, but which must not be confounded with the Klippdachs
grotto, discovered by Hübner. Formerly both shores on the lower part
of the river were in the possession of the Batlapin chief, Yantje, who
resides at Likatlong, three miles from the right bank, and now receives
an annual payment of 200_l._, as a dependent of the British
Government.

  [Illustration: BATLAPIN.]

Beneath some fine spreading trees at the bottom of the glen our eyes
were refreshed by the verdure of a luxuriant sward, whereon we could
watch the gambols of the jumping-hares, gazelles, rock-badgers, and
wild ducks. The cackle of a chenalopex, a kind of goose, could be
heard as it roosted in the foliage above our heads; and the rushing
sound of a waterfall in the upper part of the glen enhanced the charm
of this retired nook. The stream was almost hidden by the bushes,
laden with berries, with which it was overhung; and its banks, which
were of sandstone, with an upper stratum of limestone, were hollowed
out into little grottoes. In the winter season, no doubt, it would
be quite dried up, but now it contributed a beautiful feature to the
landscape. My delight in finding this charming spot was complete when,
at the bottom of the ravine, I discovered a thick layer of fossils of
the latest alluvial period, amongst which I picked out a species of
tiger-snail.

On one of the trees that overhung the glen I noticed an enormous nest,
which at first I imagined must be an ape’s; but I subsequently learnt
that it belonged to the hammerhead (_Scopus umbretta_), one of
the largest nest-builders of the feathered tribe. The bird is about
eighteen inches high, and is distinguished by its fine brown plumage,
and a long tuft at the back of its head. It generally builds in the
forks of trees that overhang precipices or rivers, although it not
unfrequently makes selection of the clefts of a rock. The nest may be
described as a truncated cone, inverted. It varies very much in height,
being sometimes a yard, although sometimes only half as much, from its
lower circumference to its upper, which is often as much as six or
seven feet. It is a structure equally commodious and substantial; it is
entered by an aperture in the side, something less than a foot square,
and its interior is generally found to contain a number of bones. Twigs
are the chief material of its construction.

This exquisite little spot, so contrasted in its character with its
surroundings, might almost fairly be compared to a diamond hidden in
rubble. It must be owned, however, that it was a paradise infested
with snakes. I found no less than seven different species, amongst
which were two of the cobras that are common throughout South Africa.
The first of these I encountered as I was lifting a great stone in
search of insects. I did not observe it for some moments, my attention
being drawn to a mouse’s nest that I had uncovered; but a sunbeam
glanced through the foliage, and revealed to me the glistening body
of the venomous reptile. Having no weapon at hand, it seemed to me
that my most prudent course was to wait quietly for the cobra to make
an escape, before I began rummaging the mouse’s nest for insects. I
had not to wait long, as, aroused by the warmth of the sun’s rays
thus suddenly admitted, it begun to uncoil itself, displaying a body
some four feet in length. It quickly caught sight of me, and, in the
well-known cobra fashion, having erected about a third of its length it
began to hiss violently, the dark neck all the while becoming greatly
inflated, and the forked tongue quivering with ominous menace. However,
it did not attack me; and something in my attitude, I suppose, making
it forebode danger to itself, it presently turned away, and disappeared
in the bushes.

Of all the poisonous snakes in South Africa I consider three of
the cobras--a green sort, a black, and a yellowish--to be the most
venomous. Instances have been known of the first two of these species
making an unprovoked attack upon human beings. One case happened within
my own knowledge. A party of Kaffir children were playing near some
bushes, about a hundred yards from the huts where they lived, when
they caught sight of a cobra creeping towards them. Being aware of
its venomous character, they ran away from the bushes with all speed
into the road, where, thinking themselves secure, they slackened
their speed. Suddenly one of the children uttered a piercing scream.
Unperceived, the cobra had followed him, and bitten his heel; in a
quarter of an hour the child was dead.

The dingy yellow cobra of the warmer and more northerly parts of
Central South Africa, often to be seen in the mapani-woods of the
Sibanani plains, exhibits the murderous propensity of its race in
another fashion.[3] It will choose a spot where two mapani-trees with
their bushy tops over-arch a track by which the wild cattle pass on
their way to drink, and rolling its tail firmly round a bough, will
let its body hang suspended, straight as an assegai, ready to make its
attack at the proper instant. Unlike the green or the black species,
its colour is so nearly identical with the tints of the foliage that it
is very likely to be unobserved, and, consequently, Europeans may be
exposed to a danger against which it is difficult to guard.

Just after my rencontre with the cobra in the glen, on the same day,
one of the black boys, who was looking for a dove which had been shot,
came running to me in a state of great excitement, and calling out, “A
slang, sir! a slang!” He had been startled by a cobra in the grass. All
the natives, except the Zulu magicians, or “medicine men,” are mortally
terrified at these reptiles.

Two days afterwards, while I was again exploring the bottom of the
glen, I shot one of the short black snakes that are known to the Dutch
farmers as “ringnecks,” on account of the white mark on their throat.
When I told a storekeeper in the neighbourhood that I had done so, he
related to me several anecdotes about the species, the particulars of
one of which was confirmed by my own subsequent observation. He told
me that a few months previously a farmer had noticed, when his cows
returned to the farmyard after grazing by the river-bank, that one of
them always came back an hour or more after the rest. As there was no
danger from wild beasts, it was not usual to have the cows watched;
but unable to understand what could be the reason of this habitual
lingering of one of the herd, he sent a servant to look. The man
soon came running back, shouting, “Bas, Bas, fat det rur!” (Master,
master, bring your gun! a ringneck is sucking your cow!). The farmer
called together some of his neighbours, and, hastening down to the
riverside, witnessed the curious sight of the snake coiled round one
of the hind legs of the cow, and while the animal continued to graze
quietly, sucking greedily at the udder. It was almost satiated, and
its body, like a great leech, was gradually loosening its hold. Before
the astonished spectators could take any measures to destroy it, it
had dropped off and disappeared in the grass; but the next day the
farm-servants managed to creep up, after it had had its fill, and
killed it without injury to themselves.

  [Illustration: BATLAPIN AGRICULTURE.

    _Page 116._]

In the interests of geographical science it was always my wish to
ascertain the depth of the various rivers I explored. Having no boat,
or other apparatus, my only resource in order to get the measurements
I wanted was to wade right into the streams. I persevered in doing
this wherever I could feel perfectly secure from the attacks of
crocodiles, until an adventure befell me which gave me such a distaste
for experiments of this kind that I abandoned them altogether. It
was a hazard that almost cost me my life. I was anxious to find a
fording-place for the waggon somewhere near our encampment by the Harts
River, which, where we were, was some twenty feet wide. After I had
found what appeared a suitable spot, where the shore was high and dry,
and the water only eighteen inches deep at the edge, I undressed, threw
my clothes across the stream to the opposite bank, and then proceeded
to wade through the water. At my very first step my foot sank into mud,
but I proceeded cautiously till I reached the middle of the stream. I
there found myself standing in two feet of mud and two feet of water,
and every farther step I took showed me only too plainly that the mud
was getting deeper and deeper, and that I could not reach the bottom.
I came to the conclusion that if matters should not improve, I must
turn back again; but when I tried to return I experienced unlooked-for
difficulty; I kept sinking lower and lower, till only my chin was above
the level of the water. To cry for help was of no avail; the waggon
in the encampment was much too far away to allow me to be heard. I
became quite aware of the peril of my position, but I had only my
own exertions on which to rely. With a violent jerk I flung myself
forward, spreading out my arms as if I were swimming; the effort
brought my body to the upper surface of the mud, but my chest and mouth
were under water. I managed, however, by another spring to extricate
one of my legs from the slime; but as I was in imminent danger of
being suffocated I had to pause, to raise my head above water to draw
breath. There was not an instant to be lost if I were to maintain the
advantage I had gained, and with one desperate effort more I succeeded
in liberating my other foot. Happily I had just strength enough left to
enable me to grasp the soil of the opposite shore, and ultimately to
drag myself on to dry land. My state, both of mind and body, needs no
description.

We remained in our halting-place for several days, before proceeding
up the Harts River valley on our way to Likatlong.




                              CHAPTER V.

                   FROM LIKATLONG TO WONDERFONTEIN.

   Batlapin life--Weaver-birds and their nests--A Batlapin
   farmstead--Ant-hills--Travelling Batlapins--An
   alarming accident--Springbockfontein--Gassibone
   and his residence--An untempting dish--On the bank
   of the Vaal--Iguanas--Christiana--Bloemhof--Stormy
   night--Pastures by the Vaal--Cranes--Dutch
   hunters--A sportsman’s Eldorado--Surprised by black
   gnus--Guinea-fowl--Klerksdorp--Potschefstroom--The Mooi
   River valley--Geological notes--Wonderfontein and its
   grottoes--Otters, birds, and snakes.


Likatlong, the residence of the chief Yantje, is the capital of the
most southerly of the Batlapin tribes. The name signifies “union,”
probably in reference to the junction of the two rivers. The town
consisted of three groups of farmsteads, each farmstead containing
from two to four huts, generally six feet high, enclosed by hedges
made of dry branches. The huts in the central groups exhibited the
greatest appearance of life and industry, and extended as far as the
river. In the middle of them was an open space, marked by the ruins
of a mission-house that had been burned down some years previously.
A short distance from the mission-house stood the church, a long but
insignificant-looking edifice, built of unbaked bricks, with a gabled
roof covered with dry grass. At the time of my visit there was no
missionary there, but the London Missionary Society, in whose district
it lies, have since sent out one of their body.

Seen from the right bank of the river, the town, with its groups of
farmsteads arranged symmetrically in rows, looked very neat. The
streets, as the open spaces between the enclosures might be called,
were full of life; women were hastening down to the water with great
clay pitchers on their heads, or toiling along towards their homes
breathless under loads of dried grass or brushwood; while children, all
naked, were either tending the cattle in the pasture-land, or playing
in swarms upon the river’s edge. To the activity and plodding industry
of the women, the _dolce far niente_ of the men offered a striking
contrast; as a general rule, they were to be seen idly basking in the
sun, like snakes recovering from the exertion of swallowing their last
meal.

The jackets and stockings of many of the men were of European make,
but some of them had garments of leather, imperfectly tanned; on
their heads they had small hats, made of plaited grass or rushes.
They were mostly of middle height, neither so tall as the Zulus, nor
so powerfully built as the Fingos, their complexions striking me as
remarkably clear and bright. Their features are spoilt by the excessive
width of the nose--a disfigurement which is to be attributed very much
to the use of an iron spoon for the purposes of a pocket-handkerchief.
Most justly they deserved their general reputation for idleness, as, in
spite of the natural fertility of their country, they took scarcely any
trouble to cultivate cereals, and rarely had any transactions at the
Kimberley market.

In a moral point of view, the late war between the English and the
Batlaros, a kindred tribe of the Batlapins, has had a very beneficial
effect. Previously, especially at the time of the first discovery of
the river-diggings, the arrogance of Yantje’s demands knew no bounds;
and his people were encouraged to make such repeated encroachments
into the province, that the British rule on the Vaal River was never
perfectly settled. The English victory, however, brought all these
disturbances to an end.

After leaving the outskirts of Yantje’s town we found ourselves in
a part of the Harts valley which was much more lonely, there being
no other native settlements of any importance for some considerable
distance. The two next are Taung and Mamusa. Taung, not unfrequently
retaining its name of Mahura’s Town, after a former governor, is about
seventy miles from the mouth of the river, and is the residence of
an independent Batlapin chief, Mankuruane. Mamusa, the abode of an
independent Koranna chief, is another forty miles higher up the river.
I did not visit it on this journey, but I was told that the chief’s
name was Mashon, that he was called Taibush by the Boers, and that he
was a very old man--some saying that he was 112, others even asserting
that he was 130 years of age.

Between Likatlong and Mamusa there are numerous insignificant native
villages, nine out of ten of them being occupied by Batlapins; though
above Taung there are several belonging to the Barolong people, the
Korannas appearing only eastward of Mamusa. With the exception of the
Koranna villages, they are generally found either on, or only just
below the summit of the heights adjoining the river, and rarely contain
more than eight farmsteads. Amongst the very few that lie in the valley
is Mitzima, the largest of all, containing about thirty huts. The
fields and gardens belonging to the people lie partly in the valley
and partly on the hillsides, the crops being kaffir-corn, maize, and
sugar-cane, which grows seven or eight feet in height.

All along our way up the Harts valley the numerous defiles crossing
our path had compelled us to make many deviations that involved
considerable loss of time. We were halting for rest, not many miles
from Likatlong, when we were visited by an old man and a youth, who
wanted to do a little business with the “makoa,” white man. The high
prices that they demanded for their goods greatly surprised me, until
I found that the natives even of these parts had learnt the value of
English money.

As we went on we had several good chances of sport in the woods and
long grass of the valley, and in the bushes by the river-banks. Near
the river we found four different kinds of bustards, the two smaller
sorts congregating in flocks; the two larger, one of which was of
unusual size, rising from the bushes in pairs; and, near the thorns,
we saw several pairs of the great cape-partridge scratching up the
ground. Sand-grouse, too, were basking on the sandy spots by the shore
and on the slopes; the reedy places being haunted by wild ducks, of
which we secured a plentiful supply. On the more open spots, where the
river was overhung by mimosas, the lovely weaver-birds, yellow, with
a black spot on the throat, had stripped off the leaves from the ends
of the branches, and replaced them by their wonderful nests, that hung
suspended like some curious fruit.

These nests were about four or five inches long, and were constructed
in the shape of an elliptic cone, the small end of which was attached
to the bough, the transverse diameter being between two and three
inches in length. The aperture, on the flat side of the nest,
underneath, was crescent-shaped, and only just large enough to admit
one bird at a time. The material was blades of grass, collected fresh
and pliant, and so cunningly woven together as to give the finished
work all the appearance of the best-skilled art. The construction of
the nests was so firm that they would defy the most violent storms,
but yet they were hung so delicately that the gentlest breeze would
put them in motion. As they swayed to and fro they made the prettiest
of reflections in the mirror of the peaceful stream, darkened already
by its carpet of tender water-plants--a picture rendered still more
striking when one of the bright little birds would issue from its home,
and, hovering about, would seem to add the radiancy of some sparkling
gem. The birds themselves did not show any timidity, and towards
evening we found that we could take them in their nests, any that we
had startled soon flying back and settling down in patient curiosity to
watch our movements.

  [Illustration: NESTS OF WEAVER-BIRDS.]

On the third day of our travelling we came in sight of a range of
hills to the east of us, running from the south, and projecting some
way into the Harts valley. I was told that they were in the district
of the chief Mitzima, and that the point at the extreme end was called
Spitzkopf by the Boers.

In various parts of the plains we were crossing there were patches
of bright red, giving the effect of crimson carpets spread upon the
ground. On closer inspection they proved to be masses of free-blooming
lilies. Other spots were distinguished by a different species of lily,
growing very luxuriantly, and having very dark green leaves, which were
perpetually found covered with many varieties of weevils.

Near a sugar-plantation that we passed I saw four women at work; and
as we wanted some milk I asked them if they could get some, without
my waiting until we reached Mitzima. They all seemed pleased at being
asked, and sticking their hoes into the ground ran off, laughing and
shouting, to their huts, about 300 yards away. They were not long in
returning, two of them carrying earthenware pans, and the third, a
lean old hag, bringing a wooden bowl, all full of sweet new milk. The
only remuneration they required was a lump of tobacco. I was rather
surprised at the choice; but my man, Gert, who acted as interpreter,
told me that they were very fond of snuff--an assertion which was
confirmed by their taking the tobacco, and after rubbing it in their
hands, stuffing it into their capacious nostrils, chuckling out
“Monati! monati!” (That is fine! that is fine!)

In the course of the afternoon we passed a farmstead composed of three
huts, which in cleanliness surpassed anything I ever saw amongst
the Batlapin tribe. They were built of strong stakes, and were very
spacious. Beneath a shed formed of rushes stood a good substantial
waggon, and in the courtyard was another smaller waggon, to which
the farmer and his labourers were doing some repairs. Besides this I
noticed--what was a great rarity in the Batlapin country in 1873--a
good, useful plough. Half a dozen leathern milk-bags, too, were hanging
in the cattle-enclosure. In the shed, two Batlapin men were busy making
a waggon-tilt out of an old piece of canvas; and I do not remember
ever having seen any of the tribe working so industriously. Fifteen
little black children were playing merrily enough in the immediate
neighbourhood of the farm, none of them having the least pretence to
clothing beyond a narrow strip of leather serving for an apron; a few
elder children were minding the cattle on the river-bank a mile away;
and altogether the place had a singular air of comfort and prosperity.

Nearer and nearer we approached the heights that had opened before us
in the morning. They were the most northerly branch of the chain of
hills beginning near Hebron, on the right bank of the Vaal. I found
the geological formation especially interesting, the rocks sometimes
standing in upright blocks, ranged side by side in pillars almost like
petrified human forms, and sometimes lying piled up horizontally, like
the steps of a gigantic staircase.

Mitzima’s village was on the nearer side of the Spitzkopf. We did not
stay long, but started off again late in the afternoon. The number of
the glens, however, that we had to cross delayed us so much, and tried
the strength of our animals so severely, that it proved impossible for
us to proceed far that night, and we came to a halt about a mile and
a half short of the mountain-head, not far from three little Batlapin
farms. A storm that seemed to be gathering at our back made us cautious
in our movements, as we knew that a rainfall of even half an hour
would be enough to convert any one of the defiles into a rushing and
dangerous torrent. In spite of the evening being so far advanced,
our arrival did not escape notice at the farms, and several of the
occupants hurried out to pay us a visit.

The night spent here was bright and fine, although decidedly cold. The
rocks on the hillside cast long, deep shadows, falling like phantoms
across the plain; the Spitzkopf, like a giant on guard, seemed to keep
perpetual watch; while the shrill voices of the Batlapins, chanting
their wild songs, echoed from the distance, and completed the weird
effect of the general scene.

  [Illustration:

    BATLAPINS ON A JOURNEY.      _Page 126._]

Next morning, after purchasing some gourds from the owner of one of
the farms, we pushed on still to the north. The further we ascended the
Harts River, the more fertile we found the country. Nothing attracted
my attention more than the small plantations of sugar-cane, but I
was surprised to hear that the only use to which the natives put the
prolific crop is to cut the lower and more juicy section of the stem
into morsels that they can chew.

We had now to travel across a plain devoid alike of trees or shrubs,
but where I noticed some ant-hills of a peculiar form. Instead of being
of the ordinary hemispherical type, about four feet high, and with
two or three apertures, such as may be seen by thousands on many of
the South African levels, these were open funnels six feet high, with
diameters ranging from three to ten inches long, and made of a kind of
cement formed by grains of sand agglutinated by the help of the mucous
saliva of the ant. Generally they stood in groups of not less than
three, and the soil all round them was quite bare for several feet.
Outside these, again, were funnels of the same design, but not yet
completed, and consisting merely of a conical pile of earth without the
aperture at the top.

About noon we made a halt near the river, but were disappointed to find
that the only water we could obtain was from the pools, which were
rendered disgustingly foul by the cattle driven into them day by day by
the natives. It may well be imagined that the food we had to prepare
for ourselves with this water did not prove particularly savoury.

In the middle of our meal some Batlapins, from the villages on the
hills to our right, came riding up. They were mounted on huge oxen;
but seeing us, they alighted, and came and sat down near our fire,
making themselves at once quite at home. Their beasts, without being
unsaddled, stood by perfectly still, as if rooted to the ground.

The appearance of these travelling parties of Batlapins is extremely
grotesque. The oxen came scrambling along as if they were running for a
wager. A stick is thrust through a hole in their nostrils, to each end
of which is tied a thong about two yards long; this is the bridle; a
sack or piece of leather girded on the back serves for a saddle; a pair
of leather or iron stirrups, fastened to a strap, generally completes
the trappings.

Our visitors were very friendly and disposed to be communicative. In
answer to my inquiry how far it was to Springbockfontein, one of them
pointed to the sun above our heads, and said, “Start your waggons at
once, and before yon ruler sinks to his rest, you may draw your water
from the stream where the springbocks quench their thirst.”

  [Illustration:

    ACCIDENT IN THE HARTS RIVER VALLEY.      _Page 129._]

In the neighbouring fields of gourds and maize, I found what seemed
to me a good opportunity for enriching my entomological collection, but
it ended in a misfortune. I succeeded in finding some fine specimens
of tiger-beetles (_Cicindelidæ_), but I was so engrossed in my
pursuit that I did not observe that a storm had been gathering, and
was quite taken by surprise when the lightning flashed a few hundred
yards lower down the stream, and the heavy rain drops began to fall. I
was very soon wet through. Scampering back towards the waggon, I found
three of the natives still huddling round the all but extinguished
fire, but my own people gone to a little distance to secure some plants
that had been left out to dry, and to bring in the guns that happened
to be outside against a tree close by. I jumped into the waggon, and
almost immediately my friends returned. They handed me the plants all
right, and were just passing me the guns, when a flash of lightning
struck the ground close behind us; the crash of thunder that followed
was terrific. In eager haste to hang my gun in its proper place inside
the waggon, I had caught hold of the barrel with my left hand, but
the shock of the thunder so startled my friend that he jerked one of
the triggers, and the charge of hare-shot with which it was loaded
went off. I can remember nothing beyond the glare and the noise and a
momentary sensation of pain; stunned by the injury, I lost my balance
and fell out of the waggon.

It was at first supposed that I was dead; and most providential it
was that the wounds were not fatal. The shot had passed right through
my left hand, and grazing my left temple, had pierced the brim of my
hat, leaving the holes blocked up with my hair. For two days I was
completely blind with the eye, and suffered from acute inflammation in
it for more than a fortnight.

A native view of the occurrence should not be left without record.
While my friends in the presence of the three Batlapins were discussing
whether it would not be possible to reach Springbockfontein that night,
another old Batlapin, who had witnessed what had happened, came up, and
addressing one of the three, apparently his son, said, “Go, lad, and
look inside that waggon; there lies a Bas dying or dead; he is killed
for his wickedness; he was storming against his friends for being
so slow in giving him his gun, and the great Morena struck him with
lightning and thunder. He fell from the waggon. Never more will he eat
his maize or suck his sugar-cane, if he is not dead already.”[4]

Although Springbockfontein was really at no great distance, my
condition was such that it proved quite impossible for us to reach
it that night; the suffering that I endured from the jolting of the
waggon made us abandon our intention, and after two hours’ travelling
we halted for the rest which was indispensable. However, next morning,
quite early, we accomplished the rest of the way.

Springbockfontein is a settlement of white men, consisting of nothing
more than some tents and reed-huts, occupied by four Dutch families,
who, apparently, had been driven by debt to flee from their former
homes in the Transvaal. I found similar settlements in other Bechuana
districts, the occupants supported partly by hunting, and partly by
wood-cutting or leather-dressing. As a general rule they appear to lead
a miserable existence, and may be said to be about the most uncivilized
portion of the Dutch population of South Africa; being without the
means of procuring medical assistance, their condition when attacked by
sickness is very deplorable.

The Springbock streams were quite insignificant, and as they made their
way towards the Harts River, they passed through a morass where I found
large numbers of the common South African tortoise.

During the morning I had rallied considerably, and determined to
proceed up the valley without delay. My plan was to pass through the
district under the control of the Batlapin chief, Gassibone, at that
time independent; but owing to the wrong directions given us by some
Dutchmen at the springs, we wandered on till nearly evening, when two
natives that we chanced to meet informed us of our mistake, telling us,
moreover, that our only way to get where we wanted was by going right
back again to the Harts River. All day long the toil had been very
great, the soil in many places being so sandy that it was necessary
to give the cattle continual rests to recover from their exhausting
labours. The country as we advanced became more and more wooded,
covered in many spots with small tracts of camel-thorns. To compensate
in a degree for the loss of time, there was no lack of good sport.

Striking next, according to the directions of the natives, right
across the woods to the east-south-east, we made for the chain of hills
where the principal kraal of the chief was said to lie. The road, I
think, was even worse than any we had yet seen, and it required both
skill and vigilance to keep the team from injuring themselves, and
the waggon from toppling over. A monotonous bush country brought us
to a mimosa-forest, where we met some of Gassibone’s people, who took
every trouble to explain the nearest way to their chieftain’s home.
We had to cross a depression in the hills, which brought us to a deep
circular hollow; in the background of this, there was a meeting of
mountain ridges, forming a number of valleys, in one of which the kraal
was situated. As we entered the valley it could not but strike us how
fairly it was cultivated.

But it was now growing late. The day had been long and unusually
toilsome. We were all fatigued, and I ordered a halt for the night.

After allowing our bullocks to graze awhile, we started off in good
time next morning for Gassibone’s quarters. The women were already busy
at their work; the children, as usual, driving the cattle to their
pasture. With fine warm weather, our whole party was refreshed and in
the best of spirits.

The full title of this chief is Morena Botlazitse Gassibone. Two years
after this time, he voluntarily submitted himself to the Transvaal
Republic, and since the annexation of the republic by the English, he
has become a British subject. He is said to be addicted to many vices,
of which drunkenness is not the least.

The houses in the place were very similar in character to those at
Likatlong, the population being about 2500.

  [Illustration: BATLAPINS SEWING.]

My scheme was now to strike out towards the Vaal River, and thence to
proceed north-eastwards into the Transvaal. Uncertain how to discover
the best road, I resolved to send to the chief, and ask for a guide.
I entrusted one of my friends with the message, and told him at the
same time to try and procure us some milk. In return for a shilling
the negro potentate willingly promised us as many pans of milk as we
wanted, and in consideration of another shilling undertook to supply us
with a guide, who should put us on our way upon the open plains.

His hut was cylindrical, about sixteen feet in diameter, with a conical
roof, the highest point of which was about ten feet from the ground,
and supported by a mimosa-stem in the centre. At the foot of this was
seated one of the wives of the magnate, dressed in a gown of European
calico, and holding on her lap a wooden platter full of a favourite
Batlapin delicacy. By means of Gert as an interpreter, the chief
invited my friend to partake of the dish, and he, in his desire to be
courteous, accepted the proffered hospitality; but no sooner had he
discovered what he had taken than he let it fall again; it consisted of
dried locusts, the very sight of which was enough to disgust him. On
his return, he vowed that nothing should induce him a second time to
undertake the office of ambassador to a Bechuana prince.

The inside of the hut was lined with clay, the floor being smoothly
cemented; hanging on posts all round was a variety of garments made
of the skins of aard-wolves, grey foxes, jackals, and black-spotted
genets; opposite the doorway on the main pillar hung an American
breech-loader; and on the floor, close to the wall, were beds, formed
in the most primitive way of sheepskins and goatskins.

In the course of the conversation Gassibone expressed his regret that
the gourds were not ripe enough to send me, and that he was unable to
give me any meat, as on account of the deficiency of water close at
hand he had sent all his own herds to the pastures by the Vaal River.
My own observation soon afterwards confirmed what he had said, and I
found that there was really no water fit to drink between the Harts
and the Vaal. In the settlement itself the stream was so reduced that
the spring was always besieged by a crowd of women, waiting their turn
to get what supply they could, and when my servant made his appearance
they hooted him so lustily that he had no alternative than to make a
retreat with his bucket empty. Our only resource was to purchase our
water of the women, and to make good the defect by laying in a stock of
a native fruit something like a medlar, by which we might at any time
temporarily allay our thirst.

Only waiting to procure a stock of maize from some of the people, we
were soon ready to proceed on our way. It was our wish to fill all our
vessels with water before starting, but the guide provided by the chief
assured us that there was no necessity whatever for this precaution,
as there would be many available places where we could get plenty as
we went along. Naturally enough, we took his word, but found ourselves
thoroughly deceived; until we reached the Vaal not a drop of drinking
water was to be seen, and for the whole of that day and the following
we had to endure, throughout the burning heat, all the miseries of
increasing thirst. The country between Gassibone’s kraal and the river
is an uniform table-land, partly covered with trees and bushes, and
partly, in damp years especially, overgrown with long grass.

Pointing to a tall acacia that stood out conspicuously over the plain
to the south, our guide informed us that it was situated beside a rushy
spot, which we should reach before sunset, and where there was no doubt
we should find water. We did, indeed, reach the place in the course
of the afternoon, but it proved a mere dried-up rain-pool, the only
semblance of water which it contained being a thick green semi-fluid
full of tadpoles, insect larvæ, and infusoria, and smelling strong of
ammonia. The very look of it was enough ordinarily to excite disgust,
but so intense was our thirst that we ladled out the stuff, teeming
with visible and invisible life as it was, into a napkin, and tried
to filter it into a tumbler. We managed to get about a glass and a
half of slimy liquid which we divided amongst our whole party, but in
spite of the craving for more drink, we were not induced to repeat the
experiment.

We rested about two hours, and made another advance on our way before
camping for the night. As we approached the Vaal, the trees and bushes
disappeared, and the grass became shorter, forming excellent pasturage
for cattle.

On the evening of the next day, just as the sun was beginning to set
behind the Free State shore of the Vaal, a little Batlapin boy, who was
tending a lot of goats on the plain, told us that the river was close
behind some hills to which he pointed. Looking in that direction we
soon caught sight of the huts used by the cowherds who were in charge
of Gassibone’s cattle.

Beyond a question, the Vaal is one of the most treacherous rivers in
South Africa; its banks almost to the very middle of the channel are so
soft and slippery, that draught-animals going to drink are liable to
sink so deep into the mud that it is impossible to extricate them; in
such cases they have been known to die of starvation. Accidents of this
kind are especially likely to occur with the aged beasts which, having
got knocked-up on the way, are left behind to await their owner’s
return; this, if he has gone on a business journey, is occasionally
delayed for months. I have myself experienced some mischances arising
from this condition of the margin of the river.

My people lost no time in going to find out where the Batlapin cattle
went to drink, and while they were making their investigation, I took
my gun and strolled down towards the water’s edge. It was getting dusk,
and I was desirous, if I could, to shoot some wild fowl for supper.
In order to make as little noise as possible, I walked on tiptoe over
the firmer parts of the shore, and whenever the trailing branches
obstructed my path, I stooped down gently to remove them. Before long
there was a sudden cackling on my left, followed by a sonorous flapping
of wings, and two of the wild geese (_Chenalopex_) of which I was
in search were making their escape down the river. I dropped upon my
knee, prepared to fire, but all at once the feeling came upon me that
to break the charming sweetness of the scene by the noise of a shot was
almost like a desecration. The placid waters of the stream stretched
out towards the west, forming a gleaming zone of beauty; the light of a
distant hut came sparkling through the gloom; it could not be otherwise
than that, in such association, my memory should recall the picture of
another stream, in another land, far away, where I had dreamily passed
many and many an evening fishing, and when the light of the window
within view had sparkled with the welcome of home. I could not help
asking myself whether it was not possible even then that loving parents
were thinking of the wanderer who was thinking of them. I was by no
means saddened at my reverie; I did not for a moment doubt of a happy
return; but I became absorbed in my thoughts, and sat pondering on the
past for an hour or more, until the trees on the opposite shore had
become obscured in the gathering shades of night.

Darkness had so come on that I had no little difficulty in retracing
my way to the waggon. I gave my head a succession of thumps against
the projecting boughs of the willows, and kept stumbling over their
protruding roots; but I held on my road. Ever and again there was some
strange and startling noise; first a herd of monkeys, which had been
resting on the tree-tops, disturbed by the owls, would break out into
a frantic clamour that would gradually die away into weak and single
notes; and then a great water-iguana (_Polydædalus_) that had been
lurking on the bank in search of mice, after creeping noiselessly to
the brim of the water, would plunge in with a sudden splash.

These iguanas are huge lizards, over five feet long, that generally
select their habitat by water which, if not always running, at
least flows periodically; they are found quite as often near human
habitations as they are in the desert. Their bite is not dangerous
to anything that is too large for them to devour, but they have such
singular power in their long tails and in their claws, that they are
able to catch many aquatic as well as land animals. Motionless as
logs, with their eyes continually opening and shutting, their dark
brown scaly bodies, striped with green and yellow, being of a colour
to escape detection, they will for hours await the appearance of their
prey with scarcely a sign of animation. Their food consists of frogs,
mice, insects, or any animals up to the size of a rat, or any birds not
larger than a hen.

It has been said that they are fond of the crabs that are commonly
to be found in South Africa, but I am inclined to think that it is
only failure of other food that induces them to drag these crustaceans
from their holes, although I have seen such an accumulation of the
shells as serves to show that a great many crabs may be necessary to
make an iguana’s meal. No doubt they are immensely partial to eggs;
and so pertinaciously do they visit hen-roost after hen-roost, that
by mutual consent the tenants of the farmsteads combine in declaring
war against them. At the mission-station at Limkana, on the Matebe, my
attention was called to the way in which, to gratify this predilection,
they will climb up trees in search of nests, after the manner of the
land-iguanas, which never frequent the water at all. From the southern
coast to the Marutse district I found the water species everywhere.
In streams infested by crocodiles they live in the rapids, which the
crocodiles avoid.

In general appearance the land-iguana is similar to the _Polydædalus_,
but it is broader, more unwieldy, and has a shorter tail. It is found
on plains, both bare and grassy, in rocky districts, in bushes, and in
the forests. It lives upon small birds, mice, rats, centipedes, and
many insects, but its favourite food is birds’ eggs. Ordinarily it
chooses its abode at the top of a tree, and at the approach of danger
will clamber rapidly to its elevated retreat, and lie concealed along
one of the boughs; if it should be on the ground, it will creep into
a deserted burrow, or failing this, it will stretch itself out as if
lifeless; but only touch it, and every symptom of inanimation vanishes;
it will start up, develope its full length hiss like a cat, and crawl
along on the tips of its claws, its form, that appeared thick and
stumpy as it was shrinking on the ground, becoming in an instant lanky
and thin as a skeleton. In the abdomen of this pachysaurian there is
found a collection of lobulated fatty matter, in which some of the
native tribes put great faith as a remedy for certain diseases.

It was very close upon midnight when I found my way back to my people
in the waggon; they had been far too uneasy at my prolonged absence to
lie down to rest.

A bath in the Vaal was the first business next morning, after which
we started in a north-eastward course for the Transvaal. In two
hours, a much shorter time than I had reckoned on, we came within
sight of several erections on the right; one of these was a long
building made of tiles, and covered with iron; another, apparently in
danger of tumbling down, had been constructed of lath and plaster;
the third was of bricks, with a flat roof. These, with a couple of
tents, and thirteen Koranna huts, were all that in 1873 existed of
the most westerly town in the Republic, which afterwards, during the
disturbances in Gassibone’s district, and amongst the neighbouring
Korannas, became known as Christiana.

Since that time Christiana has changed greatly for the better, and
at present is almost as important a town as Bloemhof, which in 1876
included at least thirty houses. Independently of its favourable
position on the direct road between Griqualand West and the Transvaal,
it has made a rapid development through the exertions of its chief
magistrate, whose acquaintance I had subsequently the pleasure
of making. It speaks well for the able way in which this officer
maintained his difficult position with the contiguous unruly tribes,
that on the annexation of the Transvaal by the English he was allowed
to retain his post.

The river-bank where we made our camp was somewhat elevated, and
afforded us a good view of the islands and rapids, which were both
numerous. The adjacent scenery is unquestionably very interesting,
and a visit to the islands would, to an ornithologist, be well worth
making. This was the most southern point where I observed the handsome
long-tailed roller.

Leaving Christiana on the following day (March 13th), we proceeded
up the river towards Bloemhof. The district between the two towns is
one of the most dreary and barren in the Transvaal, and has quite the
characteristics of a karoo-plain; it offers a striking contrast to the
opposite shore on the Free State side of the river, where wide tracts
of acacias and numerous farms are mirrored in the waters.

In the way of game we saw nothing but a couple of springbocks, a few
of the very smallest of the lesser bustards, and in the more rocky
places some ground-squirrels, and some rhyzœnas, the latter being
in considerable numbers, as many as fifteen or twenty from a single
burrow. Both of these animals had ventured some little distance from
their homes; the squirrels digging for roots, the rhyzœnas for beetles,
larvæ, and scorpions. At the sound of our wheels they made off, but at
a pace so moderate, that even with a good start they might have been
overtaken by a dog. The ground-squirrels ran away very timidly, keeping
their tails erect, and not venturing to look back at what had disturbed
them until they reached safe quarters; the rhyzœnas were much bolder,
stopping frequently to examine the intruders who had invaded their
privacy, and pausing, with their tails uncurled, would snarl savagely,
as if in defiance. I saw several varieties of rhyzœna, but only one
of the ground-squirrel. Further north, where the prairie-like plains
made way for more wooded country, the place of the earth-squirrel is
supplied by a small yellow-brown kind that lives in the trees; the
flesh of both is eaten by all the natives except the Hottentots.

On reaching Bloemhof, on the afternoon of the 15th, we found
that it consisted only of a single street, its environs having a
poverty-stricken aspect that was far from inviting; it is a place,
however, that has latterly been considerably improved.

Ever since we had left Klipdrift the weather had been remarkably fine,
with only a few occasional exceptions; but as we quitted Bloemhof we
observed that the horizon was ominously heavy; and, as evening drew
on, the rain began to fall, and it became so dark that it was quite
impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, I regretted that I had
not come to the determination of passing the night in the town.

For a while one or two of us tried to walk in front of the team,
to give confidence to the Koranna who was leading the foremost pair
of bullocks by the bridle, declaring every minute that he could not
distinguish the path from the ground by the side; but the rain was so
drenching, and the wind so pitiless, that we were obliged to give up,
and to get what shelter we could in the waggon. After slipping and
sliding about for a hundred yards or so more, the bullocks all came
to a standstill, and I could not help fearing that we had got on to
a declivity, which would lead down to the river; and, knowing that
further progress under such circumstances might be dangerous, I came to
the conclusion that we must stay where we were until daylight.

Notwithstanding the pouring rain, I went out twice to reconnoitre
our situation. The second time I went farther than before, and made a
discovery which rather startled me. Not many yards in front of us I
observed a large dark spot, which it struck me must be a deep hollow in
the ground. I called to the driver to watch with me, and wait for the
next flash of lightning, that we might ascertain what it really was.
The lightning was not long in coming, and revealed close at our feet
the bed of a rain-torrent, that of course went right to the river. Only
a few more steps and the consequences must have been most disastrous;
for when daylight came, we found that the walls of the ravine were not
only very precipitous, but not less than sixteen feet in depth.

Nothing could be more uncomfortable than the night we spent. The rain
ceased about midnight, but not till it had penetrated the canvas
covering of the waggon, the keen wind all along benumbing our limbs,
and making us realize that here, on the table-land of the Southern
Transvaal, we were 4000 feet above the level of the sea. Except for the
Koranna men, David and Gert, there was no rest to be had; but they were
both utterly regardless of the rain-pools in which they were reclining,
and slept on soundly till the morning.

The Free State shore of the Vaal is elevated; the parts where it is
not entirely wooded being scantily dotted with mimosas. Many of the
well-to-do farmers, resident on the south of the river, have purchased
as much as 3000 acres of land hereabouts, for the purpose of grazing
their cattle during the dry season. They complained bitterly of the
number of their foals, calves, and mules that had been killed by the
hyænas (_H. crocuta_), and said that they had been obliged to
resort to strychnine in order to dispose of some of the rapacious
beasts. The son of one of the farmers, named Wessel, told me that he
had lost eighteen head of cattle of various kinds during the preceding
winter.

One case that occurred was somewhat remarkable. A farm-servant, before
turning out two mules, had, or his own convenience, fastened them
together by a strap; not long afterwards they were found still attached
to each other, but one of them was a mangled, half-gnawed carcass,
whilst the countless footprints in the ground showed what desperate
efforts the surviving mule had made to get free from its ill-fated
companion. Since then the owner had sent no cattle to the pastures,
except cows and full-grown horses, unless they were guarded.

Some miles east of Bloemhof we came to a great shallow saltpan, which
we had seen glistening before us for a considerable distance. It was
skirted by a farm, and, as usual, one portion of its edge was overhung
by a hill, the adjacent grassy parts being of a marshy nature, that
might no doubt be cultivated to advantage.

We now entered upon the south-western hunting district of the
Transvaal, that extends in one unbroken grass plain from the banks
of the Bamboespruit to the Schoenspruit, and is bounded on the south
by the Vaal River, and on the north by the Maquassie heights; it is
intersected by a river, and by several spruits that flow periodically,
generally running from north to south, or south-east.

Before reaching the Bamboespruit, on the 18th of March, we saw several
pairs of blessbock antelopes, and then a whole herd of them; they are
so called on account of a white spot (_blässe_) on their forehead,
which sets off their red-brown skins admirably; their horns diverge
backwards, and are by no means so graceful as those of the springbocks.
Altogether, the creatures are more strongly built than springbocks;
they do not make the same kind of spasmodic leaps, but on the whole
they involve their pursuers in a more protracted chase.

In the long grass a number of cranes were pecking out locusts. As we
approached them they made a short retreat without rising high above the
ground, and uttering their sonorous note, which might almost be called
stately, they alighted again only a few hundred yards away.

  [Illustration: CAMP ON THE BAMBOESPRUIT.]

Some heavy rain came on, and we were compelled to come to a halt quite
early in the afternoon by the side of a pool, a very few miles east
of the Bamboespruit. Partly from want of rest, and partly probably
from the salt we had taken at the saltpan which we had just passed, a
general lassitude seemed to have fallen upon our whole party; it was
an unhealthy languor, that seemed absolutely to prohibit sleep; and
the morning dawned before the rain ceased, and we were able to get a
little repose underneath the waggon. To rest inside was impossible, as
the evaporation from the damp made the atmosphere all but intolerable.
Though jackals in plenty were to be heard quite close to us, we were
disinclined to take our guns out of the cases, where they were safely
protected from the wet, to get a shot at them; and besides it was very
dark. After all, the sleep we obtained was very little, and we were all
ready to start again while it was still quite early.

My people busied themselves in making a fire, and meanwhile I strolled
to a little distance to get a general view of the plain, bounded
by distant heights on the north. The sky was overcast, and the day
threatened to be as dreary as the night. My attention was attracted by
some very musical notes, uttered, as it seemed to me, by two cranes
or storks that were fluttering some 500 yards in front of me. I made
my companions listen to them, and they agreed in pronouncing the
sound exquisite as the notes of an Æolian harp. It was a matter of
considerable difficulty to get Gert, the Koranna lad, to leave his
breakfast to attend to what was exciting our curiosity; and when he did
come he declared at first that there was nothing to see, but after a
moment or two he suddenly stooped down, and seizing my hand, made me
bend down to his own level.

“Yes, look!” he said, “look at those two birds settling there; those
are the birds that made the noise. They would be great locust-birds,
only they have red wings, and black heads and crowns--beautiful yellow
crowns.”

This was an unusually long speech for Gert, and he had to pause and
refresh himself with a quid of tobacco. He saw our surprise, and
repeated the word “crowns,” adding that they were not made of feathers,
but of long, stiff, yellow hair.

“In Africa,” he continued, “everybody knows them. The farmers, both in
the Transvaal and the Free State, keep them tame.”

“What do you call them?” I inquired.

“Mâ-hems, bas,” he answered; but I could only conjecture that they were
a long-legged species of the grey crane, until a few days afterwards,
when finding three of them domesticated in one of the farms we passed,
I ascertained that they were the crowned or royal crane (_Balearia
regulorum_). When I returned to my own country I brought two of
them with me, and had the honour of presenting them to His Highness
the Crown Prince Rudolph, who placed them in the Imperial Zoological
Gardens at Schönbrunn.

Scarcely had we been travelling two hours next morning when we came
within sound of a rushing torrent, issuing from a depression that could
be distinguished at a considerable distance by its belt of foliage. The
depression varied from twenty to thirty-five feet in depth, and was the
channel of the Maquassie River, now swollen by the heavy rain that had
accumulated from the neighbouring heights, which bear the same name as
the stream. The banks are steep, and the river-course stony, and every
now and then there are scraps of picturesque scenery; but during some
of the winter months the flood is reduced to a few mere ponds; these,
however, being deep and rocky, are often tolerably full of fish. The
more rugged parts of the shore are the haunts of otters, wild cats,
weasels, genets, and other small beasts of prey, water lizards also
being occasionally to be met with.

At the ford, which, on account of the steep declivity of the banks,
is always awkward to cross--we found the water about three feet deep.
Standing on the right bank were some transport waggons laden with
goods weighing the best part of three tons. The drivers, fearful of
crossing in the present swollen condition of the stream, had left them
and made their way to a neighbouring canteen to await the subsiding of
the flood; but I came to the conclusion that we might venture to cross
at once, and our waggon reached the other side safely, with no other
damage than a slight injury to our cooking apparatus.

It was not mid-day when we reached the southern slope of the Maquassie
heights, that extend hence towards the north. It was a spot where the
mineralogist no less than the botanist might find a fine field for
research, excellent specimens of porphyritic quartz being frequently to
be secured. Hares and bustards abounded on the plains; and in a pond
belonging to a farmer who had settled at the foot of the hills were
quantities of black moor-hens, divers, wild duck, ibises, and herons.

We received a visit in the course of the afternoon from the farmer’s
son, who quite astonished me by the dexterity with which he handled my
revolver, making shot after shot at a mark with unerring precision.

Towards evening we left the neighbourhood of the farm and crossed a
plain on which the grass was some two feet high, affording a safe
shelter for game. We had only advanced about six miles since noon; but
a steady downpour of rain having set in, we not only thought it best to
halt for the night, but were so struck by the abundance of game, that
we agreed to stay for a whole day.

The sound of firing roused me betimes in the morning. It seemed to
come from the south; and the origin of it was explained by the arrival,
while we were at breakfast, of two Dutchmen, mounted on small wiry
ponies, and making inquiries about the Bas, the master of the house
close at hand. Finding us unable to answer their questions, they drove
on to the thatched house, and asked neighbour “Ohm” (the ordinary
designation of a Dutch farmer) to lend them a waggon, to carry to their
own farm, some miles away, a dozen springbocks and blessbocks that they
had killed that morning.

It is the common custom of such farmers as live near towns to leave the
heads and the entrails of what they have killed for the jackals and
vultures, and to send the carcases whole to market. Those, however, who
reside in more out-of-the-way districts, generally flay and cut up the
game into joints, laying the skins out on the ground to dry.

After being dried, the skins are most frequently merely cut into
squares, and sewn, ten or twelve together, to make carpets; but
in the manipulation of them the farmers are far surpassed by the
natives. One use to which they are also put is to make the mountings
of the giraffe-hide whips. There is a primitive kind of tanning often
practised, the tan being the bark of several trees that grow on the
hills, such as the waggonhout-tree, or, failing that, the bark of the
common mimosas from the river banks. Those who make a trade of tanning
purchase the undressed skins from the hunters; a blessbock skin, which
costs three or four shillings, as a rule selling after the operation is
complete for about half a sovereign.

Some of the farmers’ relatives residing with them manufacture what
they call field-shoes, which are extremely comfortable for South
African travelling. The soles are made of half-tanned gnu-skins, and
the upper leathers of the skins of blessbocks, koodoos, or hartebeests.
They may be bought of the makers for about seven shillings, but from
the trades-people in the towns they cannot be procured at less than
double that price.

The flesh of these animals is cut into long strips, and either slightly
salted, or dried by exposure to the sun; it is brought to table quite
hard; when pounded and soaked in butter it has a very delicate flavour;
its price varies from sixpence to a shilling a pound, and it is often
brought to market in considerable quantities.

Quitting this halting-place, we proceeded to the east. The district
that we traversed on our way to the Estherspruit was, if possible, more
abundant in game than that which we had left. I counted in various
directions no less than twenty herds of springbocks and blessbocks.
A short distance from our path a swarm of vultures had settled on a
blessbock that had been shot, the very numbers of the birds being a
proof that they must have continual opportunities for a similar repast.

The spruit lay in a kind of trench extending towards the south. As we
approached it we could see a white-washed farmhouse peeping out from
some mimosas on its margin; we subsequently made the acquaintance of
its owner, a kindly middle-aged Dutchman, named Rensburg.

As far as the Estherspruit we had found the road singularly good; but
suddenly we were now launched upon a marshy plain, from the mire of
which our oxen seemed perfectly unable to drag the waggon. With much
reluctance we had to consent to stay in this unhealthy situation till
the next morning. Towards midnight the atmosphere became so clear that
we could distinctly see the jackals prowling almost close to us. I
was much tempted to have a shot, and to endeavour to get one of their
handsome skins. Rensburg, however, had warned me that any firing would
be only too likely to frighten away the game, so that I deemed it more
prudent to abstain.

On starting next day, we had only proceeded about two hundred yards,
when we came upon the Klipspruit, now reduced to a few insignificant
pools, although after heavy rain it becomes a stream of scarcely less
than a hundred yards in breadth. We crossed without difficulty, and at
once made up our minds to encamp for at least a day or two upon the
further bank.

It was a scene to rejoice a sportsman’s heart; the early morning hours
never failed to exhibit many a herd of gnus and antelopes, some hardly
a quarter of a mile away, others so far in the distance that they were
comparatively specks on the horizon which opened out to the south,
east, and west.

  [Illustration: RETURN FROM THE GNU HUNT.

    _Page 155._]

The springbocks always grazed in groups; the blessbocks in rows,
either side by side, or one behind the other. The prolonged notes
of the bustards could be heard on every side, and every nook seemed
teeming with animal life. As I looked around me with admiration
I almost fancied that I should like to be the owner of some vast
enclosure, where the game could find a happy retreat from their
relentless pursuers; ample room would be requisite, as it is not so
much the climate as the limited space in zoological gardens that
causes so many animals to languish and die in their confinement; but
the mortality in gardens is small in comparison with what it is in the
travelling menageries, where the imprisonment is necessarily so close
that it is to be hoped, for the honour of humanity, that they will soon
cease to be supported.

We remained on the Klipspruit from the 23rd to the 27th. Our attempts
at sport were by no means successful, and on the last day I determined
to make another effort, in hopes of better luck. In going down the
spruit I had noticed a spot in the broad part of the bed that had every
appearance of being a resort of the game, and the footprints both ways
across the channel showed that gnus and other animals were accustomed
to pass along that way. Here I resolved to take up my position, and
await a favourable chance for a shot.

Shortly after sunrise I left the waggon, and made my way very
cautiously along the valley for about two miles; it was necessary to
go stealthily, a matter which was sometimes by no means easy, as the
river-bed was in places very shallow, and my movements were likely to
be observed by the game on the heights; it was consequently past ten
o’clock before I reached the selected spot; the place, as I have said,
being broader and flatter than elsewhere, and the track overgrown with
rushes. After waiting about an hour in the broiling sun, I heard the
sound of some shots in the far distance, and being still partially
concealed, I peeped out in the direction whence the reports proceeded;
nothing, however, was to be seen but a few herds scattered about, all
grazing quietly. Still, it became clear to me that one of the herds
of gnus, still feeding, was gradually coming nearer to me; and in the
expectation that they might approach within gunshot, I crossed to the
other bank, and cocked my gun in readiness; but they were slow in
their movements, and scarcely advanced at all. Happening to turn my
eyes in another direction, I was taken by surprise. Galloping hard
towards me from the quarter where I had heard the shots was a great
herd of blessbocks; they were coming so much closer to me than the
gnus which I had been watching, that I considered they were giving
me the better chance. I had no time to make my way back to the other
bank, and had to content myself with gaining the middle of the bed and
lying down flat upon the ground. After a few seconds I raised my head,
confident that the herd would be now within reach; but I was destined
to be disappointed; they had evidently caught sight of me, and were
making off in rapid flight. In the rear was a doe with her little fawn
that could not keep pace with the rest, and I could not help longing
intensely to take them alive; with this design I sent a shot into the
right leg of the dam, but although she reared and limped at first, she
soon recovered her speed, and made off to rejoin the rest.

  [Illustration: STARTLED BY A HERD OF BLACK GNUS.

    _Page 156._]

Hoping still to succeed with the gnus, I went back to my former
place, and again stooped down to wait. I reloaded my gun, but had only
just put in the bullet, when I was startled by a great snorting and
puffing close above me; the whole herd, with lowered heads and tails
erect, was rushing towards me like a whirlwind; another moment and I
should have been trampled under their feet, but having no desire to
come within reach either of their horns or their hoofs, I jumped up,
shouted aloud, and brandished my gun. The effect was to bring them at
once to a standstill; they waited a moment with their shaggy heads
all turned towards me. I lost not an instant in firing. The foremost
antelope bent down its head, brayed aloud, swung round twice in a
circle, and then galloped off followed by the entire herd. It did not,
however, make straight away, but after retreating some ten or twelve
yards it made another circle, still followed by the others, and this
manœuvre it repeated several times, until finally, the herd, erecting
their white tails, and still bellowing wildly, scampered off to a
distance.

While they were making their second circle I took aim at an animal
that seemed to be about half grown. My shot was well directed and took
effect on the shoulder. I heard the ball strike, but the creature kept
on its way just as if it were untouched; so sure, however, was I that
I had hit my mark, that I kept on in pursuit, in spite of the intense
heat of the sun, for the best part of four miles; my exertions all
proved to be fruitless, for although my victim was probably lagging on
behind the herd the distance between us continually increased, and at
length, weary and disappointed, I was fain to give up and make my way
back to our quarters.

But I was not contented. After resting a little while and taking some
refreshment, I started off with Gert, determined, if possible, to track
out the wounded gnu. We followed on beyond the spot where I had turned
back, and made our way for about another two miles, when we came upon
the half-eaten carcase of a young gnu bull. Within five hours after
receiving my shot it had become the prey of the numberless vultures
that hovered about, and had been so mutilated that it could not be
removed.

Disgusted at my failure, I broke up our encampment immediately, and
set out once again towards the interior of the Transvaal, where I
contemplated making the caverns of Wonderfontein the limit of my
present journey, after which I should commence my return to the
diamond-diggings.

During our stay by the Klipspruit, I had made a good many additions to
my collection, notably a pretty young water-lizard, several kinds of
insects and fish, some scolopendra, and various grasses, besides some
interesting specimens of greenstone.

It was quite late at night when we next halted for our rest, though we
were scarcely more than four miles north-east of the ford. The night
was fine and tolerably clear; and as we sat talking over the chances
and mischances of the day, we could hear the bellowing of the male
gnus, varied ever and again by the heavy thud that was caused by the
clashing of their horns as they met in angry conflict. From midnight to
dawn the howl of the jackal and the yell of the hyæna showed that while
game was in abundance there was no lack of beasts of prey.

The country through which our next day’s journey carried us showed no
falling off in the quantity of game. The depressions of the spruits
became deeper than we had heretofore seen, and were in some places
covered with bushes that were the haunt of the guinea-fowl which are
common everywhere, from the southern coast to the further side of the
Zambesi.

This breed of wild poultry is undeniably one of the most interesting
features of the African bird-world. Hunted perpetually, it is
nevertheless ever on the increase. Most frequently it is found in
flocks varying from ten to forty in number, in bushy or wooded places
near rivers or standing water. It is distinguished from our guinea-fowl
by a horny membrane on the forehead.

On the Vaal and its tributaries the best time for hunting guinea-fowl
is about two hours before sundown, when they leave the bushes in the
plains to drink, previously to roosting for the night in the trees
by the banks. This hour may on an average be taken to be about four
o’clock in the afternoon, and as the birds nearly always use the same
approach to the river, a sportsman, who has concealed himself hard
by, will see a cloud of dust gradually coming nearer to him from
the land; this is caused by their repeatedly stopping on the way to
scratch up seeds and insects from the sandy soil. When in thick grass
they continually raise their heads to look around them, and where the
grass is over three feet in height I have seen them at intervals run
out of it for ten or fifteen yards and fly, or rather spring into the
air, that they may be able to look above it. Should they happen to
catch sight of man or beast, or anything that has to them a suspicious
appearance, they give a loud cackle, and dart off with incredible
swiftness. I know few birds that can run so quickly, and when they have
once taken to flight, a sportsman unacquainted with their habits has
little chance of catching sight of them again that day. An experienced
hand, however, will either chase them with dogs, or conceal himself so
as to confront them as they rise suddenly from the ground, when their
flight is so awkward that they afford a mark which the most unpractised
shot can hardly fail to hit. Like other feathered game, guinea-fowl
have not much to fear from the natives; the only people that I saw
making any attempt to get them were the Korannas, who first make them
rise by the aid of their dogs, and then pelt them down with the hard
stones of a small edible fruit known as the “bluebush.”

In the afternoon we reached the Matheuspruit, which in spite of the
rain was nearly dry. Near the road a small dam was placed right across
its bed, and formed one side of a pond.

From the Matheuspruit the road was in a wretched condition, and where
it was not stony the soil was so soft that we were in momentary dread
of sticking fast. On the evening of the 29th we reached the Jagdspruit.

The following morning was warm and bright, and the rising sun lighted
up the eastern slopes of the Klerksdorp heights, some of which had
a conical shape, and stood isolated and bare on the bank of the
Schoenspruit, others being covered with bushes, and joined together
in ridges. Between us and the hills lay a shallow depression, about
two miles wide, that appeared to open into the narrow valley of the
Schoenspruit a few miles lower down. We were told that Klerksdorp, the
oldest settlement in the Transvaal, was close on the other side of a
chain of hills that stretched right across our path.

Tempted by the genial weather I went out for a stroll on the plain,
which afforded me ample scope for botanizing. Amongst other plants
worth gathering I found a cinna growing rankly as a weed, bearing one
or more brick-red or rose-coloured blossoms on stems that varied from
four to ten inches in height. From a clump of bushes on the left I
took a number of beetles, some small bright ones (_Buprestidæ_), some
leaf-beetles (_Chrysomelidæ_), and some Longicorns (_Cerambycidæ_);
also several black and yellow-spotted spiders, that, like our
cross-spiders, had spun their webs from bush to bush, and from tree to
tree. Two duykerbocks sprung up at my approach, and vanished quickly
into the thicket.

Having crossed another depression we soon entered the actual valley
of the Schoenspruit, which might fairly claim to be a river, as it is
only in exceptionally dry seasons that it ceases to flow regularly,
and assumes the characteristics of a “spruit.” Altogether it may be
considered one of the most interesting valleys in all the South African
table-land, being one of the most fertile, as well as the most highly
cultivated. Its banks are one continuous series of farms; and both here
and in the Mooi-valley the excellent pasturage on the slopes greatly
enhances the value of the land. With a little energy and rational
manipulation of the soil it might be made even ten times more prolific
than it is.

At this period, in 1873, Klerksdorp, or Klerksdorf, consisted of a
single street, in which, I believe, I counted five-and-twenty houses.
It has since greatly increased, and bids fair, like Potchefstroom, to
be one of the most important towns in the south-western Transvaal.
Each house had its garden, with peaches and orange-trees, and the
hedges were made of quinces and pomegranates. The site of the town is
well chosen, being at a spot where the valley is narrowed by hills on
either hand, and where the supply of water is abundant; it is likewise
partially protected on the side looking up the river by an isolated
chain of hills.

Potchefstroom, for which we made a start the next day, is really the
most populous town of the Transvaal. On our way thither we crossed
three dry spruits within a distance of thirty-four miles. These were
named the Kockemoer, the Matchavis, and the Bakenspruit, and all
ran parallel to each other, from north to south, towards the Vaal.
The country we passed was more undulating than it had been between
Bloemhof and Klerksdorp; all the valleys, whether deep or shallow,
appearing very fertile. Before arriving at the Kockemoer we had to
cross a tract of land so marshy that our progress was once again a
matter of considerable difficulty. The sight of two waggons, already
sunk hopelessly in the mire, was a warning to us that we must use every
precaution; and in several places, which appeared especially bad, we
shovelled out the mud, and filled up the cavity with stones; thus
extemporizing a hard road, over which, by dint of much shouting and
whipping, we made our bullocks drag their load. Very often, however, it
was requisite to make long detours, and even then we found the broad
tires of our wheels cutting into the soil as though they were the
sharpest of knives.

As we passed next day at the foot of a chain of lofty hills I could
not do otherwise than admire the scenery, which seemed the most
pleasant of any that we saw throughout the journey. In the shallow glen
of the Bakenspruit a large flock of grey cranes was busily hunting for
locusts, and we noticed a few springbocks grazing quietly among them.

Thousands of swallows had settled on the swampy spot where we crossed
the spruit. The South African swallows are even more confiding and
fearless of men than our own swifts; not only will they build in the
passages of houses that have continual access to the air, but I have
known them take up their abode in dwelling-rooms when these have
happened to be left open for any length of time. Their nests are more
elaborate than those of the European _Hirundo_, and are entered
by a passage sometimes straight, but occasionally slightly curved, a
foot or more in length, woven into the nest itself, the whole being
affixed to a horizontal roof. Their number, too, as well as the number
of the goat-sucker tribe (_Caprimulgus_), is greater than that
of the European species, but their notes are neither so strong nor so
agreeable.

We were now approaching the valley of the Mooi River, a perennial
stream, bounded for some miles on either hand by chains of hills or
by isolated eminences. As we turned from a grassy hollow, we saw
Potchefstroom lying before us, looking, at first sight, smaller than it
really is, the effect of its being built on a level in the form of a
long parallelogram, in such a way that it is overshadowed by the trees
that line its streets. It is one of the most important places in South
Africa, and will probably retain its high rank, as it remains the chief
trade-centre of the country, and is hardly likely to be ousted from its
prominence, unless it should happen to be affected by the construction
of the Delagoa and Middleburgh Railway from Pretoria. When I was
there I estimated the population at about 4000, a total that would
be much increased if it were made to include the inhabitants of old
Mooi-Riverdorp, a name given to the series of farms that, commencing at
the north end of the town, extends for some miles up both sides of the
river valley.

The Mooi River encloses the town on the east with a tolerably strong
stream and some rushy shallows; the water is clear, and contains many
of the same fish as the Vaal, besides numerous crabs; otters, wild
cats, and water-lizards are found on its banks. An aqueduct from the
river, as well, I believe, as from the hills on the west, is carried
round the western side of the town, and from this a good supply of
water is conveyed to the houses and their gardens.

In the summer-time grass grows freely in the less frequented
streets, and even in the dry season the place with its flat-roofed
or gabled houses, all neatly white-washed, rising among the foliage
of the foreign evergreens, the cypress, the eucalyptus, and the ivy
that have been acclimatized, has all the appearance of one large
well-cultivated garden, and offers a striking contrast to the dead
yellow of the dried-up grass in the surrounding valley; but when, as
on the occasions of my two visits in 1873 and 1874, the adjacent hills
and plains are rich in verdure, and the river-banks are brilliant
with white and red and yellow blossoms, then is indeed the time when
Potchefstroom, arrayed in all its glory, fairly vindicates its title of
the “Flower-town” of the Transvaal.

The streets are straight, dividing the town into rectangular blocks,
and at the places where they intersect, open squares are left, the
most spacious of which is appropriated for a market-place. The little
English church, all overgrown with ivy, is very picturesque, but with
this exception none of the public edifices rise above the level of the
ordinary style of building. The town is the residence of a magistrate,
and of the Portuguese Consul, and it contains several elementary
schools. It carries on an active trade with the diamond-fields and
Natal, some mills and tan-yards being situated on the outskirts. The
produce sent to the diamond-fields consists chiefly of corn, meal,
meat, and tobacco; that sent to Natal being tobacco, cattle, skins, and
a small supply of ostrich feathers and ivory. It should be added that a
large proportion of the goods despatched to the interior from Natal and
the diamond-fields has to pass through Potchefstroom on its way.

Although the town has no pretensions to architectural beauty, yet
the places of business are thoroughly commodious, and the private
residences are often quite elegant villas. The great charm, however,
of them all, even of the most modest, lies in the well-kept orchards
and gardens with which they are surrounded, the hedges being gay with
myriads of roses, with fig-bushes, and with the bright leaves and fiery
blossoms of the pomegranate, which turn to their large and luscious
fruit. The whole atmosphere seems pervaded with colour and fragrance,
and for many consecutive months of the year a tempting supply of fruit
hangs in the hedgerows, so that the owner may gather in their produce
without depriving his plot of ground of its ordinary aspect of a gay
and enjoyable flower-garden.

Overhanging the brooks that ripple in gutters along the streets, are
fine weeping willows, that afford a refreshing shade from the glowing
sunbeams; their light green leaves and slim drooping boughs stand out
in elegant contrast alike to the compact growth of the fruit-trees, to
the dark foliage of the eucalyptus, to the pointed shoots of the arbor
vitæ, and to the funereal hue of the cypress.

It was evening when we next started, taking an east-north-east
direction, to proceed towards the Mooi. We had scarcely left the town
behind us when we began to experience the greatest difficulty, on
account of the mud, in making our way over the few hundred yards that
led to the primitive bridge across the river.

Our route next morning lay through a wide valley, open in most
directions, in which was a farmstead consisting of several buildings,
and carefully enclosed by its own fields and well-kept garden. Having
here obtained some gourds, we proceeded nearly east, and soon reached
a table-land, bounded on the south by a chain of hills partially
covered with trees. In other quarters we had an uninterrupted view of
the river-valley with its numerous farms, to be recognized everywhere
by the dark patches of cultivated land; in the extreme distance were
ridges of hills and isolated heights, and the slope of the Blue-bank
plateau; while on the northern horizon we could just discern the
outline of the Magalies mountains. It was the finest view I had
hitherto seen.

  [Illustration: NIGHT CAMP.]

On the table-land that we were crossing, I noticed some funnel-shaped
chasms in the soil, varying from twenty-five to forty feet in depth,
distinguishable from a distance by the thickness of the growth of
the trees. I afterwards learnt that similar chasms are by no means
uncommon in some parts of the Transvaal, between the Harts River and
the Molapo, as well as between the Lower Molapo and the Vaal in the
Barolong and Batlapin territory; they are found likewise in Griqualand
West. These crater-like openings are characteristic of the vast bed of
superficial limestone that lies, sometimes indeed only in thin layers,
but ordinarily some hundreds of feet thick, covered in some places
with sand or chalk, and in others with blocks of granite or slate;
they are caused by the union of several deep fissures in the rock far
below the surface of the soil. This limestone-bed has a clearly defined
stratification; it bears external marks of the action of water, and
throughout its extent of hundreds of miles is full of cracks, but so
hard is its substance, and so huge is its mass, that in nine cases
out of ten the convulsions of nature have not made any appreciable
displacement; it is only in these chasms that the effect is at all
apparent.

  [Illustration: FUNNEL-SHAPED CAVITY IN ROCKS.]

The underground fissures, sometimes several miles long, serve as
subterranean channels for the streams, which after a while force
themselves out through little rifts into the valleys. This is the case
with the Upper Molapo, and in the same way does a portion of the Mooi
flow below the surface of the ground, disappearing entirely in places,
to reissue further down the valley. Where, however, several fissures
are concentrated at one point, they result in the formation of the
craters to which I refer. At the top, these funnels are sometimes as
much as 200 or 300 yards in circumference: at first sight they have the
appearance of being circular, but on investigation they nearly always
prove triangular, or, less frequently, quadrilateral. The interstices
of broken rock with which their inner surface is lined are filled up by
the surrounding earth, which thus forms a luxuriant bed for the roots
of trees and shrubs, which tower up above, and become conspicuous upon
the generally barren plain.

Where the fissures that radiate from the bottom of the funnels
are sufficiently wide at the top, it is quite possible to descend
perpendicularly for a short distance and to trace their course
sometimes for several hundred yards. Many of them are full of water
clear as crystal, and one that I saw subsequently, on my way back
from my third journey on the Upper Molapo, was full to the depth of
140 feet, so that I might almost feel justified in describing it as a
miniature lake.

Although I have not seen Herr Hübner’s “Klippdachs-Schlucht,” I imagine
it must be included in the category of these formations. I found, too,
that many small streams in the district of the Vaal, the Harts River,
the Molapo, and the Marico, as well as in that of the Upper Limpopo,
had their origin in similar hollows in the rock, where the water could
not immediately run off, but collected in the funnel until it forced
its way through. At most of the farms near such streams we noticed
how the supply of water issued from a marshy spot, perhaps a mile
or so higher up, and how in the very midst of the springs there was
frequently a cavity, perhaps fifty feet or more in depth, that had all
the appearance of having been bored in the rock.

In every place of this character, even where the water had only a
subterranean outlet, I invariably found that there were none but the
same species of fish. I know a reedy pool on a plain between the Harts
River and the Molapo, abounding with fish and birds, which appears
to have no outlet whatever; and having ascertained that its greatest
depth is near the middle, I have no doubt but that it is an example of
these open funnels in the rock. In the limestone where these singular
formations exist, besides veins of quartz and quartzose mineral, there
are to be found particles of tin, copper, iron, and silver.

It was on the third day after leaving Potchefstroom that we arrived
at Wonderfontein. This is the name by which the Boers distinguish the
caves and grottoes of the district, and which does not belong as usual
to a single farm, but to a series of farms that with their separate
pasture-lands lie along the valley of the Mooi River. The farm-houses
are chiefly built of stone, and are buildings of good elevation, each
being provided with a waggon-shed, and with one or more rush-huts for
drying tobacco, which is universally cultivated in this part of the
country. The particular farm to which we were now directing our course
was in the immediate vicinity of the “wonderful” caves, and might be
termed Wonderfontein proper.

Fed by numerous streams that flowed from both directions, the Mooi
River was here of comparative importance; its banks in places were
swampy, and overgrown with masses of reeds, yielding an unfailing
source of interest to the ornithologist; and so confusing was the
chorus of whistling, twittering, cackling, and singing, that we could
hardly fail to be puzzled as to where we should give our attention
first.

  [Illustration: GROTTO OF WONDERFONTEIN.]

By the permission of the farmer we made our camp under some weeping
willows that overhung his peach-garden. We made many inquiries about
the grottoes, and were told that as it was quite easy to find the
entrance it was equally easy to miss the way inside, and to fail to
find an exit; it was therefore advisable to be provided with guides.
This office, we were soon informed, could be undertaken by the two sons
of the farmer for the remuneration from our party of 1_l._ a head.
Exorbitant as I felt the demand was, yet having come to Wonderfontein
for the express purpose of visiting the caves, I submitted to the
exaction without a murmur. Some relations of the farmer, who were
staying with him on a visit, proposed to join us, and we started
without much delay, the two guides each carrying a bundle of tallow
candles.

Having crossed the little river by a ford, wide bub quite shallow, we
had to clamber up the right bank, which was very rocky, and covered
with bushwood. A quarter of an hour brought us to a chasm in the rocks,
opening almost perpendicularly downwards, and which was manifestly
another of the funnels which I have been describing. The entrance to
the cavern was a clear illustration of the rending of the rocks, but
I must own that I was considerably disappointed with the interior. I
had expected to find fossil remains of the late geological period, and
thereby perhaps to supply a gap in the geological records of South
Africa; but I found nothing to gratify my anticipations.

By the help of the rocks projecting from the sides of the funnel,
we managed to descend to the bottom, which had gradually contracted
until it was only a narrow passage slanting down towards, or it might
be below, the river-bed. Here we entered upon a perfect labyrinth of
fissures, at first so small that we could only creep in one after
another on all fours, but increasing till they were frequently ten
feet high; they terminated above in mere clefts, from which the water
kept dripping, and formed stalactites that were not exceptional in
character, either of form or size; they had nearly all been damaged by
previous visitors, and the ground was covered with their fragments.

The very multiplicity of the underground passages through which we
were conducted, was in itself a proof that the rock had been rifted
in all directions, and in many places where the two clefts came into
connexion, a sort of vault was formed overhead, somewhat higher than
the passages, but presenting no other remarkable feature. The sides
were dark grey, generally bare and smooth. The little brook, of which
we could hear the sound as soon as we entered, rippled through the
caves from east to west, and covered the breadth of the passage,
making it necessary for us to perform the best part of our excursion
barefooted. As we went onwards, either to the west or north, the water
became considerably deeper; we caught sight of some stalactites,
glistening and undamaged, just before us, but were prevented from
securing them by our guides, who refused to advance a step further.

It would not be a matter of much difficulty to widen the narrow places
between the entrance to the cavern and the broader clefts in the
interior, so that a miniature boat might be introduced; it would at
least make it possible to penetrate to the end of the passages, and
might probably be the means of discovering loftier and more spacious
grottoes. To me it appeared that away from the river the passages were
mere rifts, but that closer to the river they were invariably wider,
thus confirming the impression that the water in making its way along
them had gradually washed out for itself a larger outlet.

We were not in the caves very long, but found them thickly tenanted by
bats, that kept on following us up to the very entrance. Our guides
held the fluttering creatures in such abhorrence that nothing would
induce them to touch them; they were accordingly much surprised when I
captured two of them as an addition to my collection of mammalia, and
as a memorial of my visit to the wonderful grottoes.

Wonderfontein is one of those places in South Africa where an explorer
may advantageously spend a considerable time, ever finding an ample
reward for his labours; the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral
world are all well worthy of his best investigation. My own visit on
this occasion was necessarily limited to three days, so that I could
obtain nothing beyond a cursory glance at the neighbourhood.

Larger quadrupeds have all been exterminated for the last fifteen
years, but on the plains towards the north I found numbers of
_Catoblepas Gorgon_, _Antilope albifrons_ and _Euchore_,
whilst the handsome yellow-brown rietbocks, their short horns bending
forwards in a hook, were occasionally to be met with, either singly or
in pairs, in the long grass or among the rushes on the river.

Our farmer friend was very courteous, and invited us to join his sons
on their hunting excursions. Holes recently scratched on the ground
bore witness to the existence of jackals, proteles, and striped hyænas;
very often porcupines, jumping-hares, and short-tailed pangolins might
be seen; and amongst the rocks I found several genets, and a kind of
weasel with black stripes.

Once when I was out strolling with one of my people along the far
side of the river, we had put down our guns against a rock, and were
watching a flock of finches; suddenly my attention was drawn off by a
great splashing in the water, and looking through an opening in the
rushes, I saw four otters swimming rapidly one behind the other up the
stream. Before we had time to get our guns, they all disappeared in
the sedge. The brown otters of the South African rivers are shorter
and more thick-set than the European species, and their skins are of
inferior value; they are to be found in all reedy and flowing streams,
as well as in the pools of spruits.

In rapids, and especially in the deep pools left in the dried-up
river-beds, which never fail to abound in fish, they thrive
wonderfully, being rarely hunted, except when they are enticed by the
sound of poultry to venture near human habitations; this is of rare
occurrence, but when it does happen, they are sure to be attacked and
killed by the dogs. They are scarce, however, in all places where
the natives have settled close to the river, and find their safest
retreat in the south-central, the western, and the northern districts
of the Transvaal, where the valleys are marshy and rushes plentiful. I
have noticed that they seldom remain stationary, but seek their prey
over extensive tracts of country, hunting fish and crustaceans in the
shallow pools, rats and mice in the grassy banks, and birds in the
morasses and reedy parts of the rivers.

Amongst the clumps of reeds we observed the hanging nests of
sedge-warblers, of the bright red, black-spotted fire-finch, and of
the handsome long-tailed king-finch (_Vidua Capensis_), one of
the largest of the finch tribe. In winter the king-finch assumes a
brownish hue, but in the summer its plumage is a rich velvet-black, to
which an orange spot on each shoulder stands out in brilliant contrast.
The change of plumage is not the only transformation with which Nature
during its period of luxuriance endues this charming bird; its tail,
that during the winter is of no unusual length, increases in summer to
a bush of feathers eighteen inches long, which so seriously impedes its
flight, that in gusty weather it can only fly in the same direction as
the wind.

Like all the other reed-finches, it is a lively little creature, and
may perpetually be seen swinging and peeping about on the tops of
the reed-stalks, or fluttering over the morasses; and when it seems
to consider itself unobserved, it settles down and twitters cheerily
among the rushes. If, however, it is alarmed or excited, as it may be
by the appearance of another finch invading its nest, by any attempt
to capture it, or by the approach of a snake, it becomes perfectly
furious; its throat becomes inflated, it spits like a cat, its
beautiful neck-feathers bristle up into a perfect ruff, and it prepares
to use its sharp beak to good purpose. There are few more interesting
birds than this in the whole country.

Long-eared owls, the true owls of the swamps, sometimes flew up as we
came near them; but, after a short flight, they would soon alight again
on the edge of the marshes. There were a good many kinds of water-birds
to be seen, both swimmers and waders; and we noticed several varieties
of sandpipers, bitterns, small silver herons, common grey herons, and
purple herons; as well as a sort of ruff, some moor-hens, wild ducks
and divers. Whilst one of a party in a boat searches for nests and
eggs, another may very readily shoot at the birds that are disturbed.

The rich blossoms that abound in the moister parts of the valleys
naturally contribute to the generation of innumerable insects; and as a
consequence insectivorous birds, as well as graminivorous, sun-birds,
bee-eaters, and swallows swarm about the shrubs both of the gardens and
the woods. The multiplicity of insects, however, did not prevent their
capture from being a matter of pain and grief; the mosquitoes not only
tormented us in the evening, but even stung our faces and hands badly
in the daytime.

Snakes, no doubt, were abundant, and I caught one of a variety that I
had never seen before; it was dark grey above, and sulphur-coloured
underneath, about two feet long, and quite as thick as my finger.

The worthy farmer who owned the place seemed immensely proud of his
“wonderlijke chate;” he treated us hospitably, and had always coffee
and biscuits ready whenever we called upon him. In the course of
conversation he told me that the caves had been visited by a colleague
of mine named Mauch, who had stayed a considerable time. He seemed to
regret that we spent so much time in collecting vermin, which he called
“det slechte chut,” when he would have liked to be chatting about the
diamond-fields, “Duitsland” and “Osteriek;” but he did what he could
to gratify my eagerness to collect any birds peculiar to the locality.
He recommended me to conceal myself behind his waggon-shed, and take
a shot at a “besonderlik Vogel,” that would be sure to settle on a
half-dead tree close by; and, taking his advice, I had the satisfaction
of getting a specimen of a small bird of the darter tribe.

Many of the farmers distil a kind of spirit from peaches, which is
known in the Transvaal as peach-brandy; it is similar in character, but
considerably weaker and cheaper than that prepared from grapes in the
western part of Cape Colony, and known by the name of cango.




                              CHAPTER VI.

                     RETURN JOURNEY TO DUTOITSPAN.

   Departure from Wonderfontein--Potchefstroom again--A
   mistake--Expenses of transport--Rennicke’s Farm--A concourse of
   birds--Gildenhuis--A lion-hunt--Hallwater Farm and Salt-pan--A
   Batlapin delicacy--Rough travelling--Hebron--Return to
   Dutoitspan--The Basutos.


After much enjoyment of the natural objects associated with the place,
and with very pleasant recollections of its kindly-disposed owner, I
prepared to quit Wonderfontein, which I had determined should be the
limit of my first excursion, and to make my way back to Dutoitspan. As
far as Bloemhof, I determined to take the same route by which I had
come.

Being anxious that it should be by daylight that we recrossed the marsh
which we had experienced to be so perilous by the bridge over the Mooi,
at Potchefstroom, I resolved to push on all night, with the exception
of a brief interval of rest.

During the period of the short halt, I was sitting almost lost in
reverie, when I was roused by hearing what struck me as some peculiarly
rich notes. One of my people drew my attention to a couple of large
birds, not a hundred yards off. It was too dark to distinguish what
they were; and before we could creep near them they had taken alarm and
had risen high in the air; but I am tolerably certain that I recognized
the deep long-drawn notes, as they re-echoed in the stillness of the
night, as the warning cry of the South African grey crane. Notes of
this full, resonant character, that seem to reverberate as if from
a sounding-board, so as to be audible at an unusual distance, are
peculiar to a few kinds of birds, including the swans, which have a
hollow breast-bone, through which the wind-pipe curves before ascending
to the throat.

On the evening of the fourth day after quitting Wonderfontein, we
re-entered Potchefstroom, and made our encampment at the same spot as
before.

Several of the residents, with whom we had already made acquaintance,
came and paid us a visit in our waggon. They told me that Mauch had
stayed several times in Potchefstroom, and had found a liberal friend
in Herr Fossmann. In the course of conversation they mentioned that
dendrolites and other petrifactions were to be found on the mountains
that we could see towards the east; and, in answer to my inquiries
about the interior of the country, they said that several times a year
waggons laden with ivory, ostrich feathers, and large quantities of
skins came from Shoshong, the town of the Bamangwatos, on their way to
Natal. These waggons came down by the Limpopo, crossing it just above
its junction with the Marico. They were the property of two brothers
named Drake, with whom, on my second journey, I made acquaintance at
Shoshong, being called to attend one of them professionally. Among
other bits of information that my visitors gave me, I learnt that two
men were now staying at Potchefstroom, who had just returned from
elephant-hunting in the Matabele country.

I had finished all the sketching that I wanted to do on my way up the
valley, and consequently had ample leisure on the return journey for
hunting, and for seeking to add to my scientific collection. As we
crossed the plain, I took my good pointer Niger with me, and walked
on one side of the waggon, at a distance of some three hundred yards.
Niger was always of great service to me, and never off his guard in
our foraging expeditions. I had brought him from the diamond-fields,
on my baboon-hunting excursion. Whilst I kept my distance on one side,
one of the rest of us marched along at about the same interval on the
other, in the same way as a couple of scouts. The larger bustards
(_Eupodotis caffra_ and _kori_) were too shy to allow us to
come near them, but we had some good sport amongst the grey and black
lesser bustards, partridges, sand-grouse, plovers with red legs and
speckled wings, and hoplopteri, which seemed to abound chiefly in the
more marshy places.

A little incident that amused us as much as anything that transpired
on the journey had the effect of detaining us a short time on our way
between the Baken and Matschavi spruits. Gert was seated upon the box
of the waggon, and spied out a dark object, about two miles in advance
to the left, which, as we approached nearer to it, was acknowledged on
all hands to be an animal of some kind or other. Gert and the other
native insisted that it was only a cow; but as there was no cowherd
in charge, and no other cattle near by, the rest of us came to the
conclusion that it could only be one of those old gnus, which, on
account of their combative propensities, are from time to time banished
from a herd, and thrust out to an isolated existence. We were all of
one mind that the animal was of no service where it was, and that it
had better find its way to some European museum. Accordingly, I started
off, quite intent upon securing the prize. I was beginning to approach
with the profoundest caution; but I very soon found that any delicacy
on my part was quite superfluous; for before I got within three hundred
yards of it, the brute had caught sight of me, and was tearing towards
me at full speed. It was a great bull that came rushing onwards, with
its huge horns lowered to the ground. I did not lose my presence of
mind, but fired a couple of blank shots, which made the animal first
pause and then retreat. I had to return to the waggon, somewhat
chagrined, it is true, but compelled to join in the general laugh, and
to own that the European eyesight was far outdone in keenness by that
of the Korannas.

Without any mishap, we crossed the ford over the Schoenspruit, and
made our camp on the open sward between the stream and the aqueduct
leading to Klerksdorp. Close beside us were two other waggons belonging
to a Transvaal “transport-driver,” who came to have a talk with us;
and as we were taking a cup of coffee, he joined us at our repast.
He told us that to the best of his belief the goods he was conveying
included casks of French wine and brandy, jars of hollands, boxes of
English biscuits, besides a variety of pickaxes, shovels, and other
implements. Altogether his load weighed nearer six tons than five.
The waggons had been loaded in the diamond-fields, and the driver’s
business was to take them to the gold-diggings. He informed us that,
after paying all his expenses, he hoped to clear 140_l._ by this
journey; so that we inferred that, including the dues paid for unlading
at Port Elizabeth, the total cost of the transport of these goods
thence to Pilgrim’s Rest, in the Lydenburg district, could not be less
than 300_l._ It is true that the distance between the two places,
_viâ_ Hope Town, Kimberley, Christiana, Klerksdorp, Potchefstroom,
Pretoria, and Middleberg, can scarcely be less than 1100 miles; but
even for this the charge seems very exorbitant. Generally speaking, the
transport-drivers no doubt make a good thing of their business; and
it would seem to be only in exceptionally bad seasons, or when winter
snow-storms on the paroo plains prove fatal to their oxen, that they
ever suffer any serious loss.

Next morning we quitted Klerksdorp, proceeding towards the
Estherspruit. It had not rained for some days, and we were sanguine of
finer weather; but the nights were very sensibly colder than when we
first started on our expedition.

Our mid-day halt was made, on the following day, beneath the shade
of some of those many-stemmed dwarf trees, the branches of which, in
complicated twinings, bend downwards to the ground. Immediately below
them the soil was almost bare of verdure, and was penetrated by many
mouse-holes; but beyond there were slight depressions in the earth,
where the grass grew luxuriantly.

Arriving early next day at the flowery valley of the Estherspruit, I
devoted some hours to a search for insects, knowing that many of the
smaller coleoptera would abound on the umbelliferous and liliaceous
plants. We afterwards all went off in a body, armed with our guns,
pincers, and the waggon-whip, to the rocks on the left of the valley.
One of the results of this excursion was the capture of two snakes;
and, to judge from the width of the traces that I noticed, I should
conclude that there were a good many puff-adders in the neighbourhood.
It was precisely the place where they would be likely to thrive, as
being haunted by reed-rats--the smaller of a brown colour, the larger
of a grey hue with black stripes--as well as by swarms of the striped
mice which build in the bushes. Reed-rats are venturesome creatures
that from their shape might almost be called jumping-shrews. The
largest of them are about the size of a common rat. They live in holes
underneath rocks, their food consisting of insects and larvæ. They are
always on the alert, and move very nimbly; but when pursued, they have
a habit of stopping to look round them, and this generally results in
their being caught.

Although it was late in the afternoon when we reached the Matjespruit,
we went on for another three hours before stopping for the night.
The first halt next morning was at Klipspruit, where, about a mile
and a half above us, we observed a waggon standing, with some horses
grazing by its side. Behind the waggon was a tent, and I hoped that
we should find we had come across a party of Dutch hunters, from
whom we might obtain some fresh meat, in case our own sport should
prove unsuccessful. My expectation was not disappointed, and we soon
ascertained that the waggon was the property of the landowner, whose
farm residence was higher up the valley, but who had brought his family
out in this fashion for a holiday, to enjoy a little hunting. Not far
from the waggon a number of boughs were stuck into the ground, attached
to each other by festoons of bullock-thongs, on which were hanging
long strips of meat undergoing the process of being converted into
“beltong.” On the ground was the carcass of a bull gnu, which a young
Koranna was in the act of skinning.

Game seemed to be abundant in every direction. We saw a fight between
two gnus. They charged each other with prodigious vehemence; but when
they caught sight of us they obviously recognized us as common enemies,
and making a truce between themselves, scampered off with the rest of
the herd.

After we had passed the Lionspruit and the Wolfspruit, the following
evening brought us to Rennicke’s farm, the owner of which had not been
over-courteous to us on our outward journey. Now, however, he not only
raised no objection to our hunting in his woods, but sent his young son
to act as our guide. Conducting us to the edge of the forest, the lad
bade us stoop down and follow him quietly. About sixty yards further on
we came to a low bank; it was not much above five feet high, and dotted
over with a number of dwarf shrubs. The youth crept on very cautiously,
and having looked down, motioned to us to follow him noiselessly,
and to peep through the bushes. Pointing with his finger over the
embankment, he whispered in my ear,--

“Kick, ohm!”[5]

I shall never forget the sight. I only wish I could have thrown a net
over the whole, and preserved it in its entirety.

  [Illustration: A BIRD COLONY.]

The bank on which we were crouching was the boundary of a depression,
always overgrown with grass and reeds, but now full of rain-water. In
the pool were birds congregated in numbers almost beyond what could be
conceived; birds swimming, birds diving, birds wading. Perhaps the most
conspicuous among them were the sacred ibises, of which there could
not be less than fifty; some of them standing asleep, with their heads
under their snow-white wings; some of them striding about solemnly,
pausing every now and then to make a snap at a smaller victim; and
some of them hurrying to and fro, dipping their bills below the water
in search of fish. On the far side, as if utterly oblivious of the
outer world, a pair of grey herons stood motionless and pensive; from
amongst the weeds rose the unabated cackle of the wild ducks, grey
and speckled; mingling with this were the deep notes of the countless
moor-hens; while an aspect of perpetual activity was given to the scene
by the nimble movements of swarms of little divers. At a spot where the
embankment descended sharply to the pool, several ruffs (_Philomachus
pugnax_) were wandering backwards and forwards, uttering their
peculiar shrill whistle; and large flocks of sandpipers were to be
noticed, either skimming from margin to margin of the water, or resting
passively just where they had alighted.

The explanation of this enormous concourse of the feathered tribe was
very simple. A storm of unwonted violence had washed down from the
plain above into the hollow beneath myriads of worms and insects,
lizards, and even mice, and so bountiful a banquet had attracted the
promiscuous and immense gathering which had excited my wonder.

I suppose that one of us must have incautiously allowed himself to be
seen or heard, for all at once a whole cloud of the birds rose above us
in the air. Taken aback at the sudden flight, I fired almost at random,
and was fortunate enough to bring down one ibis and one moor-hen. As we
returned along the edge of the swamp, another of our party shot a wild
duck.

On getting back to the waggon, I learnt from one of my people who had
not joined us in the excursion to the bank, that the farmer had sent me
an invitation to go and visit him. Although he did his best to be kind
and hospitable, I found the arrangements of his house, which was built
of brick, of the most simple and unpretending order. He complained
bitterly of the losses he sustained every year from the disease that
broke out among his horses; his own saddle-horse had not escaped the
infection, and he was anxious to know whether I could give him any
advice that might be serviceable to him.

We left Rennicke’s farm in time to arrive about dusk at “Gildenhuis
Place,” a farm which I have previously mentioned as lying on the
southern slopes of the Maquassie Hills.

_À propos_ of these Maquassie Hills, I may mention that on my
third journey into the interior, two years subsequently to the present,
I met an elephant-hunter, whose home was on their northern ridges; he
was a brave fellow, and told me of an episode in his career which I may
be allowed to repeat, in association with my own experiences in the
neighbourhood.

His name was Weinhold Schmitt, and he had spent his youth on one of
the farms at the mouth of the Maquassie River. The northern passes of
the hills were being terribly ravaged by four lions, that none of the
Boers would venture to attack. At last, one day, a farmer’s son, having
gone out to fetch home three of his horses, came riding back in great
excitement, with the intelligence that he had found their carcasses all
lying half-eaten in the grass. The foot-marks all around left no doubt
that the lions had been the perpetrators of the deed.

  [Illustration:

    LION HUNT IN THE MAQUASSIE HILLS.      _Page 193._]

The announcement stirred the Boers to action, and they determined
to make up a party to hunt them down. Accordingly the farmer and six
others, of whom Schmitt was one, mounted their horses; the son who
had discovered the remains being elected leader. The lion-track was
soon found; it led through a valley, across one hill, then another,
and finally on to a level plain, where, not only was the grass very
short, but the soil was so hard that the vestiges of the beasts could
be no longer distinguished. After some hesitation, it was agreed
that there was no alternative but to abandon the chase; and it is
very probable that most of the party had found their ardour somewhat
abated by their exertions, and were quite content to acquiesce in the
proposal to return home. They broke up close to Schmitt’s house, one
of the party remaining behind for a minute to talk. All at once, to
their vast surprise, they spied out, close to the farm, a lion and
lioness, evidently lurking in ambush. Without losing an instant they
rode towards them, their horses behaving bravely in the presence of
their natural foes. In order to get a better aim at the beasts when
they rose, Schmitt dismounted and led his horse a few steps by the
bridle, then raising his gun to be ready to fire, he called to his
partner to do the same. On turning his head, however, he found that his
friend, instead of following him, had retreated for a good fifty yards,
so that here he was alone confronting a couple of lions, with very
likely several more in their rear. What could he do but retreat also?
As he retired he kept his eye fixed upon the lions, who kept steadily
following him, till just as he joined his companion, they suddenly
turned tail and made off towards one of the rock-funnels where the
bushes were very thick.

The rest of the party had hardly got out of earshot, and were soon
summoned back. Off they started, and determined to surround the hollow,
taking especial care to watch the side nearest the hills for which
the lions were almost sure to make. After a continuous holloaing and
throwing of stones, the lioness was ultimately roused from her retreat.
She did not rush straight towards the hills, as had been expected, but
took a devious course, which, however, happened to bring her within
range of no less than three of the pursuers. Simultaneously three shots
rang in the air. Despite her efforts to escape, the lioness very soon
sunk to the earth. Every shot had taken effect.

To my inquiry what became of the other lions, Schmitt replied that they
withdrew to the district of the Barolongs, and were not heard of again
for a long time; but he concluded by saying that even now, in very dry
seasons, they will occasionally return from the far west.

It was at no great distance from the Maquassie River that we camped
out next day, under the shade of some lovely acacias. The current,
which we had found considerably swollen when we crossed it a few weeks
before, was now reduced to a mere thread. On the same evening we
arrived at the bank of the Bamboespruit, where we spent the night, as
we did not care to cross the ford in the dark.

Our progress on the following day led us over the grass plains that I
have already described, and past the two farms known as Rietfontein and
Coetze’s, both situated on the edge of salt-pans. Arriving next day
at Bloemhof, we stayed only a short time, starting off again for the
Hallwater saltpan, thence to take a short cut to Christiana.

  [Illustration: HALLWATER FARM.]

In 1872 the saltpan of Hallwater became notorious throughout South
Africa, in consequence of the supposed discovery of the ruins of
Monomotapa, a town situated in a district of the same name that existed
two centuries ago. Old chronicles relate that it was a domain that
included pretty well the whole of South and South-central Africa; and
that the population, through the medium of the natives on the coast,
kept up an active trade with the Dutch and Portuguese. It was said
that Portuguese missionaries from the east had worked amongst the
inhabitants, and traditions from the same source represent that the
towns were for the most part built near the gold-diggings, and that in
the immediate neighbourhood of Monomotapa alone there had been no less
than 3000 mines. Discoveries had now been made near the saltpan of some
stone fragments of columns and mouldings, evidently bearing the marks
of human labour; and as the distance between this spot and Cape Town
corresponded accurately with what the records stated was the distance
of Monomotapa from Cape Town, the inference was generally accepted that
the true site of the ancient town had been revealed.

As the place was only a few miles to the north of my route, I was
unwilling to pass it without a visit. It was near the Vaal, and
nominally in the Transvaal Republic; but although I found an old
Dutchwoman living there with her daughters, I learnt that it was
virtually under the authority of the Korannas at Mamusa, a power
which they retained until the beginning of 1879. It was just at the
southern corner of a triangular tract of country that had its base
towards Mamusa and the Harts River, and was claimed by the Batlapin
chiefs, Gassibone and Mankuruane, at that time both independent, by
old David Mashon, the Koranna king of Mamusa, and by the Dutch. Amidst
the perpetual disturbances that arose between these various claimants,
the Dutch farmers who had settled on the land were invariably made the
scape-goats.

  [Illustration: KORANNA.]

Producing the best cooking-salt in the Bloemhof district, the saltpan
yielded an income over and above that derived from the pasturage; so
that the old woman who resided in the red-clay cottage with its roof
thatched with grass, besides pasturing her cattle, employed several
servants in collecting salt. There were a few huts close at hand, and
two holes about twelve feet deep opened the way for a spring, which was
conducted by a trench to an artificial pond that supplied the people
with their water. The pond, when I saw it, was filthily dirty; there
were some red-legged and spurred plovers on its margin, but it was a
spot where only tortoises and frogs could lead a contented existence.
The foregoing sketch, which gives a fair view of the cottage and the
huts, was taken two years afterwards, when I was on my third journey.

Soon after my visit, the white people took their departure, leaving the
collection of the salt to the Korannas. To any traveller on his way to
the interior, I should give the advice to lay in a good stock of salt
at Hallwater; it is an indispensable article for preserving meat, and
for preparing skins; there is none so good to be obtained elsewhere;
and its price is something over a penny a pound. The Korannas who
reside here support themselves chiefly by breeding bullocks and goats,
but they find it worth their while to keep a few tumble-down waggons
in which they may send salt to Potchefstroom, Bloemhof, and the
diamond-fields, where they ordinarily sell it at the rate of 1_l._
for a “mute” of 200 lbs.

If a low dam were constructed close to the saltpan, just above the
place where the dry channels open, a reservoir could very easily be
provided, which would amply serve to irrigate their fields; it would,
however, demand something more than Koranna energy to carry out any
such scheme, and it is very unlikely to be put into execution until the
natives are debarred from the chance of indulging in the fire-water
that paralyzes their faculties.

I had an opportunity during our short stay here of tasting the
favourite national dish. Some Batlapins were passing through the place,
and were roasting some locusts over red-hot ashes. As soon as they were
sufficiently cooked, a good many of the men took them and devoured them
entire; others pulled off the feet and the wings; the more fastidious
stayed to take out the insides, and it was in this condition that
they were offered to us. After partaking of the luxury, I think I may
recommend a few locusts to any _gourmand_ who, surfeited with
other delicacies, requires a dish of peculiar piquancy; in flavour I
should consider them not unlike a dried and strongly-salted Italian
anchovy. It is only the true South African locust that is available
for the purpose of food. I found that I could make a good use of them
as fishing-bait, and that they answered much better than earth-worms.
Thousands out of the swarms either fall into the rivers where they are
greedily devoured by the fish, or are captured by birds of all sorts
and sizes, from the tiny fledgling that can scarce hold them in its
claws, to the great cranes and eagles that can consume them wholesale.

Anxious to investigate the district as thoroughly as I could, I
proposed to reach Christiana by a short cut, and then, turning towards
the west, to regain the road near Hebron, thinking thus to traverse
the chief part of Gassibone’s territory from east-north-east to
west-south-west. There was, however, no proper road in the direction
in which I wanted to go, and the bushes not only obstructed our view,
but were interspersed with large clumps of prickly acacias. I had no
alternative but to acknowledge that my little scheme was frustrated,
and to make my way to the Vaal as rapidly as I could.

On our way we saw a good many pairs of the fawn-coloured lesser
bustards, and some duykerbocks and steinbocks; the duykerbocks were
grazing quietly, the steinbocks only visible when startled from the
bushes. There were traces of hartebeests, and of the larger gnus,
probably the striped gnu (_Catoblepas taurina, Gorgon_), which
led us to hope that the animals themselves might not be far off; but
we were hardly in the mood either to be very keen upon the game, or to
appreciate the beauty of the forest scenery as we otherwise should,
because we were undergoing the inconvenience of a total want of water.

We came upon a Batlapin settlement, and, according to the advice of
some of the residents who entered into conversation with us, we were
to follow a certain footpath, which would lead us to a plain, whence
we could make our way without difficulty. During the twenty minutes we
rested, we noticed the women making a new hedge of thorns to protect
their goats, and the men sprinkling some damp earth on a couple of
roughly-tanned hartebeest skins, to render them supple enough to make
up into a dress.

  [Illustration: BATLAPINS RETURNING FROM WORK.]

The route we took on leaving seemed to be the most abundant in small
game of all parts of Gassibone’s territory. Most prominent were the
pretty little steinbocks; but we came in sight of three springbocks,
which took flight without allowing us to come anywhere within gunshot
of them, and a couple of secretary-birds, that were stalking up and
down, devouring snakes and lizards, as if it were a solemn duty.
Partridges, generally in pairs, were the most plentiful among the birds.

Although I felt the necessity of now travelling on as rapidly as
possible, I could not resist the temptation, while I was still in
the neighbourhood of the Vaal, to take one day’s fishing. We had
scarcely chosen our station, and lighted our fire, when the owner of
a farmhouse, about half a mile off, came bustling down, and told us
that he could not allow us to spend the night there; by quitting the
road we had rendered ourselves liable to a fine of 5_l._ to the
Republic. I made no remonstrance, setting off at once on our way; but
brief as had been our halt it had enabled one of my companions to catch
a sheat-fish, weighing nearly three pounds, which at our next meal made
an agreeable variety to our ordinary _menu_.

We reached Christiana about midnight, and were all disposed to enjoy
a cup of tea after our long day’s wanderings; but, to our great
disappointment, we found that somehow or other the cooking apparatus
had all been lost. To myself the loss was especially vexatious, as
my money was so nearly exhausted that I could not afford to replace
it. One of my friends, however, was good enough to relieve me of my
difficulty.

Having spent the forenoon at Christiana, we spent the rest of the
day in making our way to the little native kraal that we had passed
as we came from Gassibone, after leaving Klipdrift. Hence to the
diamond-fields our route would be over an entirely new district, the
most interesting part of which would be in the middle, amongst the
hill-ridges by Hebron.

Right to the foot of the hills the country was flat. We passed
several salt-pans which, though small, had retained their water to a
later period than usual, and were even now frequented by wild geese
(_Chenalope_) and cranes. The river took a wide circuit towards
the left, and it was a stiff two days’ journey by which we traversed
the secant of the curve. The magnificent grass plain that we crossed
belonged already to the Transvaal; that on the other side, which was
covered tolerably well with bushwood rising above the tall grass, was
at that time claimed by Gassibone; but now both alike are included in
the Transvaal. We saw, I think, more bustards than at any place I ever
visited in all my travels; before us, behind us, in every direction,
far and near, they seemed to swarm.

Taking Gert with me, I went into a wood adjoining our road in search
of insects, and found some goat-chafers, as well as two kinds of
bark-beetles (_Bostrichidæ_). Here and there we came across
some skulls of gnus, sufficient in number to convince me that until
quite recently they had frequented the district, though now they
have retreated into the interior, and remain in the more northern
plains between the Harts and Molapo Rivers, and in the plains of
the Klipspruit, which, being more open, are far less favourable for
antelope-stalking.

From Bloemhof we had been travelling nearly parallel to the Free State
shore, which, as far as Hebron, is higher than the opposite bank, and
studded over with numerous farms. Rather more than eighteen miles
from Christiana we came again upon the river, near a canteen where
the goings-on seemed more than sufficiently wild and lawless. Here
the road divided, one branch leading down the river to Hebron, the
other crossing the stream by a passage known as the Blignaut’s Pont,
being the shortest and consequently most frequented route between the
diamond-fields and the Transvaal. Wanting to explore the Hebron hills,
as well as the deserted river-diggings adjacent to them, I chose the
longer road, aware beforehand that it was also the rougher. Between
Blignaut’s Pont and Delportshope, near the confluence of the two
rivers, there are, both in the main valley and in the valleys running
into it, several insignificant villages and detached farmsteads,
occupied by Korannas, who are English subjects; the men were to be
seen everywhere, either lounging about in tattered European clothes,
or sauntering with their dogs among the bushes, while their half-naked
children were looking after the meagre herds.

Passing the canteen, we found the country beyond it rather more
interesting, as we ever did when we approached the Vaal, where
a practised eye will rarely fail to find plenty of sport, and a
naturalist is sure to feel himself in an ample field for his studies.
At the foot of the hills we came to a building, half hotel, half
store, built partly of brick, and partly of wood and canvas; it stood
immediately on the Vaal, which here parts itself into several channels,
and flows round a number of islands. It is really a picturesque spot,
and is called Fourteen Streams. The Hebron heights commence here, and
extend down the Vaal as far as Delportshope, having branches that
stretch out towards the north, north-west, and north-north-east, in
the direction of the Harts River, one ramification terminating in the
Spitzkopf already mentioned, others reaching towards Mamusa and the
hills that surround Taung, Mankuruane’s residence. All the range is
thickly wooded, and it is intersected by the boundary-line between
Griqualand West and the Transvaal; it commences about eight miles above
Hebron, a former mission-station in the midst of the diamond-diggings.
The formation of the hills consists of what is known as Vaal-stone,
being greenstone containing almond-like lumps of chalcedony, covered
with quartz-rubble and ferruginous and argillaceous sand. The bottom
of the channel is so rocky that the river forms numerous rapids, so
that the view upwards from Hebron is very charming; a wide panorama lay
open before us, and we could see the hills on the horizon far away in
Griqualand West and the Orange Free State, as well as the Plat Berg, a
hill 800 feet high, with all its streamlets, pastures, and farm-lands.

But if the scenery was exquisite, the roads were execrable. The
only pavement that nature had provided was huge blocks of stone,
between which the rain had washed away the soil and left deep gullies
in the path. The waggon was in imminent danger of being overturned
every few minutes, and it may be imagined that a progress under such
circumstances was little to the advantage either of the baggage or my
collection. As for ourselves the jolting was far too violent to allow
any one of us to ride inside the waggon. The last hill into Hebron
seemed to bring the peril to its climax; so steep was the descent and
so sharp the curves that it made, that it was only by our combined
efforts that we saved the waggon from being jerked completely over, or
the oxen from rolling down the incline.

It was early on Easter Day that we were arriving at Hebron; the
weather was cold and ungenial; the sky was overcast by leaden clouds
drifted along by a keen south-west wind; it was just the morning to
throw a chill over the most cheerful heart. Nor did the aspect of the
remains of the once important diggings and station tend to enliven the
spirits; ruins they could not be called, for the materials employed
were of too transitory a character to allow the dwellings that were
constructed to become worthy of such a description. The prospect would
have been dreary at the best, but seen through the mists of a dank
autumn morning, it was depressing in the extreme. Of the once populous
Hebron, all that now remained was a shop or two, an hotel, a smithy,
a slaughterhouse, and a prison. Crumbling, weather-beaten walls of
clay were standing or falling in every direction, the chaos, however,
being of such extent as to demonstrate how large the settlement at the
diggings formerly had been. Hundreds of shallow hollows in the ground
contributed their testimony to the number of workers who once had
busied themselves in searching for the precious crystals. Thousands of
tons of rubble were left that had once been grubbed out by mere manual
labour, and still attested what must have been the multitude of hands
that had sifted and resifted it in eager expectation of a prize; and
yet out of the host of diggers perhaps scarcely two succeeded in making
a fortune, and hardly one in a dozen did more than cover his expenses.

Not only did Hebron fall to decay as rapidly as it arose; its decline
was even more rapid than the fall of Klipdrift, and many other
diamond-mines. Its true geological character had been misunderstood.
In the alluvial deposit where the diamonds were found, there was to
be discerned a variety of particles washed down from the surrounding
hills, or from districts higher up the river; besides fragments of
greenstone, both large and small, there were bits of quartz of various
kinds (milk-quartz, rose-quartz, quartzite, and quartzite porphyry);
and besides these again there were peculiar oblong cakes of clay-slate
of a yellow or pale green colour, covered with a black incrustation,
probably caused by the decomposition of the outer surface; these
clay-slate blocks, when broken, exhibited some beautifully-marked
colours ranged in concentric bands, and were erroneously supposed to be
the mother-earth of the diamond.

After making some necessary purchases at one of the shops, I found
that I had spent all my money except about sixteen shillings; this was
the whole sum with which I was to get back to Dutoitspan, whither it
was consequently indispensable for me to make my way without losing an
hour. Because it was a holiday, the ferry-man refused to take me across
the Vaal himself, and all his men were tipsy; accordingly, I resolved
to try my luck at crossing the river by a ford.

I sent out one of my companions to explore, and he soon returned with
the intelligence that he had discovered a practicable fording-place,
about two miles lower down the stream. Forthwith we started off.

The proposed passage, as it was lighted up by the rays of the setting
sun, looked favourable enough; but the appearance was deceptive. Though
the water was shallow, the current was strong; the river-bed, too,
was covered with rocks, which even in the open road would sorely have
tried the strength of our oxen. Before we had got one third of the way
across we found ourselves carried considerably below the ford, and our
position rapidly becoming critical.

  [Illustration: EASTER SUNDAY IN THE VAAL RIVER.

    _Page 208._]

Our black drivers exerted themselves to the uttermost. They shouted,
they flogged, they pulled; but quite in vain; the oxen were utterly
unable to stir, and distressed by the strength of the current, they
began to be restive and to pull at their yokes and bridles. This caused
the foremost pair to sink deeper and deeper, and it seemed only too
certain that they must be drowned. Prompt action was necessary. I had
hurt my hand, and was incapacitated from rendering much help; but I
sprang from the waggon, followed by one of the rest; and although we
could do nothing to rescue the vehicle from its situation, we succeeded
in unharnessing the oxen, who struggled to the opposite side with the
greatest difficulty. By the most arduous exertions, we went backwards
and forwards, carrying the most valuable part of my collection ashore;
but the waggon itself we were obliged to leave, with a large portion of
its contents, in the bed of the river, until further assistance could
be procured. Our labour entailed such fatigue that before darkness came
on we were all ready to drop.

The uncertainty about our waggon and property made us pass an anxious
night, and it was a great relief in the early morning to hear a distant
cracking of whips, announcing that aid was at hand. Four Koranna
waggons, drawn by six or eight pairs of oxen, soon appeared, and made
their way quickly to our side of the river. A bargain was concluded,
by which our waggon was to be brought to land for the sum of ten
shillings, and the manœuvre was accomplished without difficulty or
further accident.

On the third day after this exciting adventure I re-entered
Dutoitspan. I had been away for two months; but, in spite of having
exercised the strictest economy, my journey had cost me 400_l_.;
in fact, rather more. As matter of course, my absence had involved the
loss of half my patients; many families had chosen another medical
man, and many more, particularly the Dutch farmers, had left the
diamond-fields and gone to the Free State. My attendance, however, was
very soon called in to some severe cases of sickness, and I began at
once to recover my position; and it was not long before I repaid the
loan advanced to me for the cooking apparatus by my friend, who very
shortly afterwards left Dutoitspan to settle in the colony.

The great object of my journey I conceived to be happily accomplished.
I had wanted to gain experience as to the best mode of travelling, and
to get some insight into the character of the country, and into the
domestic habits both of the natives and of the settlers. I was anxious
to acclimatize myself for future journeyings, and the ungenial damp
and stormy season had put my constitution to a very fair test. The
heavy rains had involved the loss of a good many objects of interest,
but I had nevertheless succeeded in bringing back thirty skeletons,
about 1500 dried plants, one chest of skins of mammalia, two chests
of birds’ skins, more than 200 reptiles, several fish, 3000 insects,
some fossils, and 300 specimens of minerals, not to mention a number of
geological duplicates, which I procured chiefly from the river-diggings
to present to several museums and schools in Europe.

It is almost needless to add that on this trial trip I gained many
useful hints. In the first place, I learnt that a saddle-horse was
indispensable for any future and more prolonged excursion. Continual
occasions were ever arising when its services would be most acceptable,
either in driving back the draught-oxen that had strayed away, or in
exploring points of interest at a distance without bringing the waggon
to a standstill, or in getting readily within reach of game. And
another thing my experience taught me--I must have much more efficient
weapons for my use.

Before setting out, I had made arrangements to retain my little
tent-house in Dutoitspan, opposite the court of justice, and thither I
now returned. The waggon was pushed up against the back of the house,
and the oxen were sold. They brought in enough to discharge my two
months’ rent, which amounted to 10_l_., to pay 3_l_. for
my servants’ wages, and to leave me a little money in hand for my
immediate personal necessities.

For the next six months I settled down hard to my practice; and it
was a busy time for me. There are very few places in the world where
a doctor does not, more or less, become the intimate friend of his
patients, and thus finds continual opportunities for an interesting
study of character; but in such a sphere of work as the diamond-fields,
in their early days, these opportunities were unusually many. Where
invalids were often confined to the most limited space--families of
tolerable means frequently all living in a single tent--a medical man,
whether he would or no, was brought face to face with the details of
domestic life, not only in its brighter, but in its more trying aspect;
and in such cases he would ever and again have to become an adviser,
an advocate, and sometimes an arbitrator. At times it seemed almost
easier to face a wild beast than to speak the proper word of counsel or
caution to some self-willed grey-headed man. Prague, with its hundred
towers, and the richest practice it could offer, would have failed to
give me in years a fraction of the experience that I gained in this
brief interval.

Of the thousands of black men who at that time acted as servants
in the diamond-fields, the majority belonged to the Basuto, Zulu, and
Transvaal Bechuana tribes. They earned from 7_s._ 6_d._ to
10_s._ a week, and rarely stayed more than six months at the
diggings; for as soon as they had saved enough to buy a gun--which
would seldom cost more than 4_l._--and about 5 lbs. of powder at
3_s._ per lb., a few bullets and caps, a woollen garment or two,
and perhaps a hat, they considered themselves quite in a position to
return to their own homes and buy themselves a wife. A servant had to
be bound to his master by a certificate drawn up by a proper official,
and this had to be renewed at every change of situation, a penalty
being imposed when the document was not forthcoming. Whenever a servant
wished to complete his engagement, and to return home, the employer, if
the man’s conduct had been satisfactory, would give him a certificate
to the local authorities, that he might be permitted to buy a gun. The
certificate was practically equivalent, therefore, to a gun licence;
and thus it had been brought about that many hundreds of natives, both
in the colony and in their own independent states, were in possession
of fire-arms, with liberty to use them.

  [Illustration: MEETING BETWEEN BASUTOS RETURNING FROM THE DIAMOND
  FIELDS AND OTHERS GOING THITHER.

    _Page 213._]

As the Basutos, whom I have just mentioned, formed in 1872 and 1873 the
larger contingent of the coloured labourers, I should like to say a
few words about them, thus including them in my general survey of the
family of the Bantus.

I divide the natives of South Africa into three races--the Bushmen, the
Hottentots, and the Bantus. To the first belong the Bushmen proper; to
the second the Hottentots proper, the Griquas, and the Korannas; whilst
the third includes the colonial Kaffirs, Zulus, Basutos, Bechuanas,
Makalakas, and other tribes, about forty in all; besides which there
are transition types between the races, as, for instance, between the
Bushmen and the Bantus. It is a subject, however, upon which I have no
scope to enlarge here.

Of these tribes, we have already made some acquaintance with the
Korannas and two tribes of the Batlapins. The Basutos reside chiefly
on the Cornetspruit and the Caledon River, extending thence to the
Drakensbergen; they consequently occupy the country bounded by the Free
State, Cape Colony, Nomansland, and Natal. Their language is called
Sesuto. Since their war with the Orange Free State they have lived
under English jurisdiction, whilst their neighbours on the west, the
southern Barolongs, another branch of the Bantus, have become subjects
of the Orange Republic.

In agriculture, the Basutos have advanced more than any other tribe.
Next to them in this respect come the Baharutse, in the Marico district
in the Transvaal, of whom I shall have to speak subsequently, in the
narrative of my second journey. The Basuto farms are very small, but
they produce hundreds of thousands of bushels of corn, and abound in
horses and cattle. There is no doubt that both the Basutos and the
Baharutse are yearly increasing in affluence.

Not long ago, when the most southerly of the Basuto chiefs collected
all the unruly spirits he could find--runaway servants, thieves,
fugitive Gaikas and Galekas, the residuum of the last Kaffir war--and
attempted to plunder, and to revolt from British rule, all the rest of
the Basutos remained faithful, and voluntarily sent 2000 armed horsemen
into the field on the side of the English.

With a few unimportant exceptions, the structure of the Basuto huts,
and the general character of their work, correspond with those of the
Bechuanas, and in their handicraft they are about up to the average of
the Bantu tribes. In one respect they differ from the rest of their
kin: they manufacture carved wooden fetishes, painting them red and
black.

Thaba Bosigo is their most important kraal; Thaba Unshee being that of
the Barolongs in the Free State. They have penetrated as far north as
the confluence of the Chobe and the Zambesi.

  [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER VII.

                    FROM DUTOITSPAN TO MUSEMANYANA.

   Preparation for second
   journey--Travelling-companions--Departure--A diamond--A lovely
   evening--Want of water--A conflagration--Hartebeests--An
   expensive draught--Gassibone’s kraal--An adventure with a
   cobra--A clamourous crowd--A smithy--The mission-station
   at Taung--Maruma--Thorny places--Cheap diamonds--Pelted by
   baboons--Reception at Musemanyana.


In the course of the six months that I now spent in Dutoitspan, I made
acquaintance, amongst my patients, with three German families, all
nearly related, who were of great assistance to me in my preparations
for my second journey into the interior. It was, in fact, owing to the
kindness of the head of one of these households that, after I had got
together all but 120_l._ of the 900_l._ that the expenses
of the expedition would require, I was enabled to procure on credit
from one of the mercantile houses of Dutoitspan goods to the amount of
117_l._, for which I should otherwise have had to pay ready money;
thus I was in a position to start four weeks before the time that I had
originally contemplated.

  [Illustration: A MOONLIGHT EVENING IN THE FOREST.

    _Page 216._]

My friend Eberwald, after trying his luck as a diamond-digger in
the Old de Beer’s mine with indifferent success, had returned, and
expressed his willingness to accompany me again. He said that he should
like to see a bit more of Africa, and would assist me in any way he
could. I offered him what he had undertaken before--the supervision of
the waggon, an office which he executed conscientiously and well.

It was not by any means my intention that this should be my chief
journey. I rather regarded it as a second trial trip, on a more
extensive scale than the first. I contemplated making it cover half the
distance between the diamond-fields and the Zambesi, but I meant it to
be only a further preparation for an expedition right away into Central
Africa.

Amongst my patients I had come across a young man, a native of Silesia,
who seemed a likely man to assist me, and who professed himself quite
ready to accompany my party. He was considerably involved in debt;
but in order to secure his services, I became security with his
creditors. Finding, however, his obligations all wiped off, he suddenly
disappeared altogether. At the time when the diamond-fields were full
of doubtful characters, such incidents were by no means uncommon.

There was my other young friend, F., who was quite in the mind to go
with us again. My experience of his character rather made me hesitate
at renewing any engagement; but yielding to Eberwald’s intercession on
his behalf, I consented to give him another chance of showing whether
he could be relied on.

As a third associate Eberwald introduced me to a friend of his, Herr
Boly, a Hanoverian, of whom he spoke in the highest terms. I was quite
ready to attend to the recommendation, and I am happy to add that I
never had the least cause to regret admitting him of our number.

A liberal friend had kindly provided me with a team of eight oxen and a
Griqua driver, so that on the whole I was far better equipped than on
my previous journey. I had also procured a sextant, the use of which
was explained to me by an old ship’s officer, but unfortunately I was
unable to turn either the instrument, or the instruction I had received
about it, to much account, as I was baffled in all my inquiries to
obtain a copy of the Nautical Almanack.

It was on the 3rd of November, 1873, that our party left Dutoitspan: it
consisted of myself, Eberwald, Boly, F., and the Griqua, besides nine
dogs, including my faithful Niger, my saddle-horse, and the eight oxen.

I made my way to Klipdrift by the shortest route, designing thence
to travel up the Vaal Valley to Hebron, whence I intended to turn off
short to Gassibone’s town, and continue my journey on to Taung, the
residence of the Batlapin king Mankuruane, which I had been unable to
reach before. In this way I should explore the right-hand bank of the
Vaal in parts that would be new to me, and I should cross Gassibone’s
district from south to north, whereas previously I had traversed it
from the west, somewhat towards the east.

Our first day brought us to Old de Beer’s farm. On the following
morning we came to some dilapidated remains a few miles from the
site of the mission-house near the station at Pniel, to which I have
already alluded. Before beginning to descend to the river, I noticed a
depression in the plateau, now transformed into a lake nearly square,
and about half a mile across; a number of black storks and cranes were
enjoying themselves at the edge of the water. We went on by the road
recently hewn by the convicts through the rocks, thus avoiding the
loose sand that had given us so much trouble on our previous journey,
arriving at night at the spot where, in February, we had endured so
much discomfort. To my surprise I found the roads in a much better
condition than they were then, and after about six hours’ travelling,
we reached the bank of the river next morning; but we had somehow or
other sustained the loss of two of our dogs.

The water was so low that the ferry-man declined, on account of the
weight of the waggon, to take us across the river in his boat, but
pointed out to us a ford lower down, by which we could cross. We did
not forget our experiences on Easter Day, and accordingly set about
our proceedings very circumspectly. The river was now reduced to a
channel scarcely twenty feet wide and hardly more than two feet deep,
but although on either side the bed was full of great boulders of
greenstone as large as one’s head, it was here smooth and sandy, so
that we crossed with perfect ease, and made our halt near Klipdrift, on
the other side.

While we were resting, Pit, our Griquaman, surprised me by bringing me
a diamond weighing about a quarter of a carat. During the time the oxen
were grazing he had been lying on the ground rummaging over some sand
that had been left as sifted by the diggers, and his trouble had been
rewarded by the discovery of the little stone, which I was very pleased
to accept as an addition to my collection; but some time afterwards I
was grieved to find that I had lost it, when or how I could never tell.

Starting again the same evening, we travelled on till it was quite
late, leaving the Vaal, which took a bend to the south-south-east, on
our right. The road lay over bushy heights, covered with rocks and
crowned with alluvial flats often a mile in length, and separated by
tracts of soil of the same character, sloping down towards the river.

About four o’clock on the afternoon of the 7th we arrived at Hebron,
but passed on without stopping, as I wanted, while it was still
daylight, to reach the spot where we should have to leave the Hebron
and Christiana road, and turn off towards Gassibone. Even in the few
months since we were here the town had manifestly gone still further
to decay. The bad state of the roads compelled us to stop sooner than
I intended, and we did not start next morning until we had met with a
young Batlapin, who agreed to act as guide. At noon we took our rest
under the shade of a spreading mimosa, after which we made an unusually
long march, and encamped for the night in the open plateau.

A landscape of peculiar beauty lay outstretched around us. The Hebron
heights and their dark spurs veiled in purple haze bounded the horizon
to the south and west, whilst to the north and east the vast plains
were shrouded in the distance by a deepening tint, a sure token that
the night would be one of those that in South Africa are ever to be
remembered for their splendour. A soft air was swaying the flowery
grass, of which the seeds had been sown by the wind and imbedded in
the soil by the feet of the game. A beauteous tint began to tinge its
surface, and soon a gorgeous stream of sunlight broke forth, its golden
rays illuminating the far-off east. Was not that the direction of my
cherished home? Was it not irradiating the very scenes of my childhood
and beaming on the dwellings of my kindred? I sunk into tender
contemplation, and our camp, the plain, the watchfire, Gassibone, nay,
Africa itself, were all forgotten! It was a peaceful evening, followed
by a peaceful night, as if to fortify us for the anxiety which we
little expected on the morrow.

The figure of our black driver passed between me and the glowing
light, and recalled me to myself. It was time to retire; the oxen
that had been grazing at a distance had returned, and of their own
accord had reclined on the ground close to the waggon; spreading
out our coverings, all of us lay down upon the grass, and sheltered
by its stems and breathing its fragrance, we were soon enjoying our
well-earned slumber.

In good time next morning we were again on our way. Judging from what
the guide told me, I reckoned that the distance to Gassibone’s quarters
must be about thirty-five miles, but I was somewhat disconcerted on
hearing that on our way we should find water extremely scarce. It was
some satisfaction to know that we had a sufficient supply for our
mid-day meal, but any intermediate draught to quench our thirst between
times, was not to be thought of.

Proceeding east by north we soon came to a region where we could well
believe our guide when he told us that not a drop of rain had fallen
for months, and the further we advanced the more parched and yellow
did the grass become; though the spring was coming on, we saw but few
sprouting blades, and as we went on we found fewer still; the young
leaves of the amaryllis, too, that had sprung up here and there, were
quite withered by the drought.

A gradual ascent led us up a small plateau, vegetation still becoming
more and more scanty. A light breeze swayed the tall dry grass-stems
like a field of corn and was hailed by us with delight as it moderated
the heat, and gave a sort of freshness to our fevered lips. The oxen
had not tasted water for thirty hours; their languor was excessive,
and up hill they could only climb at a snail’s pace. For two hours
we patiently followed the footpath, our guide informing us that when
we reached the highest point of the ascent, we should have to bend
a little to the right, and should then come upon some wheel-tracks
made by the waggons loaded with wood, which the morena (king) would
generally allow to pass through his territory to the diamond-fields.
By following these tracks, always keeping to the left, and travelling
without stopping, we might perhaps reach some native huts in the course
of the night. It could not be said that the communication was very
encouraging.

We were obliged to take a short rest, and while we were looking about
us, we noticed a thick cloud overhanging the plains. Every one, natives
included, settled that it was a huge swarm of locusts. I was occupied
with my own matters, and soon forgot all about it. A sudden cry from
one of the people in the waggon very shortly afterwards recalled my
attention to what we had seen, and on looking again I beheld a sight
that could not fail to fill me with amazement and alarm. The plain
right in front of us, over which we were on the point of passing, was
one sheet of flame. The cloud that we had observed turned out to be a
volume of smoke rising above the bushwood, that was all on fire. The
conflagration was perhaps five miles from us, but it was exactly across
our path, and we might well feel dismayed.

The first among us to regain composure was our temporary guide, who
pointed out that the waggon-tracks of which he had spoken were hardly
twenty yards ahead; at least, we could reach them. We looked to the
right; we looked to the left: on the right the ground was level, but
it only led to a chain of hills, the base of which was already licked
by the flames; on the left was a hollow which was just beginning to
catch fire, and beyond it a little hillock some forty feet high. Our
perplexities seemed only to increase; the oxen were too weary to allow
us for one moment to think of retreating; they could not hold out for a
mile; and yet something must be done; the fire was manifestly advancing
in our very face. We discussed the possibility of setting fire to the
bushwood close in front of us, and thus, as it were, forestalling the
flames; but the scheme was not to be thought of; the waggon, which
contained some thousands of cartridges, 300 lbs. of gunpowder, besides
a quantity of spirits, was already so heated by the sun that we could
scarcely lay our hands upon it; a single spark of fire would in an
instant involve it in complete destruction, and the risk was too great.

  [Illustration: THE PLAINS ON FIRE.

    _Page 225._]

My eye still rested upon the little hill. I saw that the wind was
blowing the flames in a direction away from it, and aware that delay
would be fatal, and that some action must be taken, I gave my decision
that at all hazards we must make for it. Every one agreed that I was
right, and, rushing to their posts, did what they could to urge on the
bullocks without a moment’s loss of time. Mounting my horse, I hurried
on in front, but on reaching the hollow that had to be crossed before
the place of safety upon the hill could be gained, I almost gave a cry
of despair on seeing its character; it was not only overgrown with
bushwood and very steep, but was strewn in all directions with huge
blocks of stone: if only the waggon-wheel should strike against one of
these, who could doubt the consequences?

With all his might, Boly cracked his whip and shouted vigorously, and
succeeded in making the oxen drag the waggon with unexpected speed;
they were all flecked with foam as they pulled their oscillating load
behind them; every moment it seemed as if it must overbalance. At
the bottom of the hollow it was absolutely necessary to take a rest;
the beasts must have time to recover from their exertions; they were
all more or less torn by the bushes, and my friends, too, were much
scratched about the hands and face. The heat was becoming intense. My
horse was not naturally a nervous animal, but it trembled till it could
hardly stand, and the hardest part of our struggle had yet to come.

A flake of fire fell within fifteen yards of us, and warned us that
it was time to be on the move. “Hulloh an! Hulloh an!” roared the
driver, and the bullocks once again strained themselves to their
work. Scarcely, however, had they gone ten paces, when the smoke
puffed against their eyes, and all bewildered, they swerved into a
track where the waggon must inevitably have been overturned; it was a
critical moment, but happily one of my party, who was walking at my
side, saw the danger, and, rushing at the heads of the leaders, turned
them by a desperate effort into the right direction. The instinct of
self-preservation now redoubled every one’s efforts; onwards we pushed,
through clouds of smoke, amidst falling ashes, amongst fragments of
red-hot bark, till we were within fifty yards of the place of safety.
So heated was the atmosphere, that I momentarily expected to see the
canvas of the waggon break out into a blaze.

The bullocks once more gasped and tottered beneath their yoke; with
painful toil they made their way for another thirty yards; it was
doubtful whether they could accomplish the remaining twenty.

One more moment of rest, followed by one more frantic paroxysm of
exertion, and all was safe! Just in time we reached the hill that
overlooked a hollow, beyond which was the expanse of black burnt grass.
I ungirthed my horse, my people all flung themselves exhausted on the
ground; their faces were crimson with heat; their limbs were bruised by
their frequent falls; their eyes seemed starting from their sockets.
Poor Pit, who had scrambled along with the front oxen, had his shirt
torn from his back, and his chest was smeared with blood from many a
wound, but fortunately none that was very deep.

The fatigue and excitement that we had undergone demanded some repose,
but the miseries of the thirst we were enduring did not permit us
to wait long. As soon as possible we started off again; we had no
difficulty in finding the proper tracks; and fortunately for our
worn-out team, which had to pause about every hundred yards, the ground
was quite level. Evening began to draw on; to alleviate our sufferings
we were obliged to moisten our burning lips with vinegar; we were
too depressed to speak, and kept a moody silence. Once Pit broke the
stillness by calling out to us to look to the right; we raised our eyes
just to notice that three hartebeests were almost in the road before
us; but so excessive was our languor that no one seemed to care that
they were there.

While I was in Africa three kinds of hartebeest antelopes came under
my observation. The common hartebeest, found throughout South Africa,
as far as the Zambesi, but most frequently in the bushy parts of the
southern and central districts; the sesephi, or Zulu hartebeest, which
is found in the same districts, but north of the Zambesi as well; and a
third species, which appears closely allied to the common hartebeest.

I shall have occasion hereafter to refer to the sesephi, which in
various respects resembles the buntbock; but I may here say a few words
about the hartebeest proper.

  [Illustration: HARTEBEEST.]

From the effect of its elongated head and angular horns, the common
hartebeest may perhaps be pronounced the ugliest of all the antelopes.
I myself found it most frequently between the Vaal and the Soa Salt
Lake, though I was told that it is quite common in the east and
north-east of the Transvaal, and in the northern parts of Cape Colony.
Being less timid than other kinds, it is more exposed to destruction;
it lives in small herds, often inhabiting the same districts as the
striped gnu. The probable reason of its comparative rarity in the
more northern regions of Central South Africa is that the Bamangwatos
are especially partial to its skin for their dresses, and it has
consequently been much sought for, till its numbers have diminished.

  [Illustration: HEAD OF THE HARTEBEEST (_Antilope Caama_).]

In places where trees are not too numerous, it is generally hunted
on horseback. When pursued, its motion is very awkward, probably on
account of the unusual height of the shoulders. Although this species
of hartebeest (_Antilope Caama_) is the commonest of the three
kinds I have mentioned, I am under the impression that it is a rarity
in European menageries; indeed, I am not aware that the transZambesi
kind has ever been represented there at all. In the country of the
central Bechuanas, and in the forests, they are approached under cover
of the foliage, and are usually found on the borders of glades, and
anywhere where there is a tolerably open range for their view. By white
hunters they are often chased promiscuously with elephants, ostriches,
and other wild game.

So obscured were all the waggon-tracks by the ashes left by the
fire, that it was a matter of no little difficulty for our guide to
distinguish the proper way towards the native settlements. The trials
of the day seemed never coming to an end. Our thirst became more and
more painful, our throats being parched, and our tongues cleaving to
our mouths. Our sufferings enforced a melancholy silence. Any hope we
had entertained that the heat would moderate as daylight waned, proved
quite fallacious, as the evening was exceptionally hot, and the breeze
that had been blowing was completely lulled. At last, however, the
distant baying of some dogs caught our ear, and never was any sound
more welcome; and when, soon afterwards, the monotonous chant of the
native girls, accompanying themselves on their wooden castanets, could
be distinguished, it was as music unsurpassed in sweetness. Here at
length was the promise of relief from our tortures.

  [Illustration: WOODS AT THE FOOT OF THE MALAU HEIGHTS.

    _Page 231._]

Lights from the hut-fires were soon visible. Leaving the waggon
standing unguarded where it was, every one of us, guide included,
rushed impatiently to the huts. A lot of yelping curs ran out to meet
us; the singing of the women ceased, and one solitary man advanced in
our direction, evidently astonished that a waggon should be passing
at such an hour. Seizing him by the arm, I shouted in his ear, “Meci,
meci;” startled by my vehemence he uttered a loud cry, probably of
alarm, for our black guide burst into a fit of laughter. However,
I had made him understand me, and he went into his hut, whence he
soon returned, bringing a huge horn full of stinking stuff, which he
declared was his entire supply of water, and for which he demanded
half-a-crown. Neither in quality nor in quantity did this suffice
us, and after some further parleying, we made him comprehend what we
wanted, when he and two of his wives brought us out some bowls of milk,
which we speedily emptied. After our thirst was thus quenched we began
very shortly to have a sense of hunger, and lost no time in kindling a
good fire and getting a leg of mutton, which we watched while it was
roasting. We sat and talked over the steppe-burning, and our happy
deliverance from our alarming predicament. To the south we could still
see the glow in the sky, which made it certain that the fire was not
yet subdued in that quarter.

These fires occasionally arise from accidents, and from carelessness,
but in districts where there are few shrubs and trees to be injured,
the farmers in dry winters not unfrequently purposely set fire to
the steppes, with the object, they say, of promoting the growth of
the grass. It is known, too, that ostrich-hunters were formerly in
the habit of causing these conflagrations so as to get a crop of
tender-sprouting grass, which is always attractive to the birds, who
delight in the young herbage. Fires of this kind are likewise to be
seen from time to time amongst the low scap- (sheep-) bushes, rarely
exceeding eighteen inches high, on the plains both in the Colony and
the Free State, and on dark nights the glowing streaks that mark the
heavens are thus accounted for.

We had hardly travelled half an hour next morning before we discovered
that the waggon-tracks that we had been following had brought us into
the same road that we had used on our previous journey from Gassibone
to the Vaal. Our good-natured guide here took leave of us, and we
descended one of the passes leading to Gassibone’s kraal. The defile
was wide, but became much narrower at the farther end; the sides,
although they were covered with luxuriant vegetation, yet permitted
the terrace-like stratification of the hills to be distinctly traced.
The flat parts were overgrown with wild mimosas, and had an aspect not
unlike the cherry-gardens planted on our own hillsides in Europe.

It was about noon when we reached the kraal. Passing through it, we
encamped under some trees in a hollow close to the bed of a torrent.
The ground was covered with a rich sward that on account of its
sheltered situation and its proximity to the water had retained a
pleasant freshness.

Proceeding along one of the passes beyond the settlement, we ascended
some high land, whence we could see that dark clouds were beginning to
gather. Pit told us that the rain for which we had longed so much was
certainly now coming, and after a short consultation, we decided to
halt at once, and unyoked our oxen about three miles after starting.
Pit was right enough; the clouds rolled on in rapidly increasing
masses, and before another hour had passed the rain came down in such a
deluge as I have rarely seen before or since. We would have given much
for such a downpour on the previous day.

The storm lasted for about two hours; it took some time for the water
to clear off; but when it ceased to foam along in torrents, and began
to trickle down more gently from the hillsides, we thought we might
venture to proceed another stage, though it was getting on towards
sundown. The defile along which we passed was quite narrow, except in
one or two places where it opened out into a plain. Niger, my dog,
was on in front; he was foraging in the long grass, when suddenly he
started off in pursuit of something that we could not see. There was
a strangeness in his movements that perplexed me; he kept springing
forwards, and as suddenly retreating, and I was curious to find out
what was disturbing him. I stopped the waggon, and when I approached
the dog I found him in front of a great tubular ant-hill, barking
furiously. The other dogs began to bark in concert. I soon saw the
cause of the animal’s excitement; a great yellow cobra-capella, nearly
seven feet long, was winding itself round the ant-hill; its neck was
all inflated, and it was hissing vehemently. A moment was enough for
me; I put a charge of small shot clean into the reptile, and had the
satisfaction of dragging it out from the bushwood, a notable addition
to my naturalist’s collection.

  [Illustration: NIGER AND THE COBRA.]

In the course of the evening we came to the broad valley which had
been described to us as the shortest route to Taung, and, leaving the
main pass, we turned into it towards the north, and settled ourselves
for the night.

The day following the storm was dull and chilly. Our road lay first
across a hollow, with some Batlapin huts on one of its bare slopes;
then through an opening in the hills to a dense wood, and thence into
another hollow, split up into about a hundred little allotments about
fifty yards square.

It took us the best part of an hour and a half to get over this ground;
but when we mounted the high ground beyond, we found ourselves in sight
of the Harts River valley, which was right before us. The hill-ridges
round Taung seem to form a sort of network. None of them rise more
than 800 feet above the level of the river, but the scenery which they
form is rather attractive. To reach the ford we had to skirt the first
ridge, and then bend northwards.

After a former ruler, Taung is also called Mahura’s Town. It lies under
the shelter of a rocky height, a short distance from the right bank of
the river, where a rush of yellow water was streaming down the bed,
which in many places was overgrown with reeds.

As we wended our way down the slope, we came within view of
another native village. The mere sight of our waggon served to put
its population into a state of extreme excitement. A whole crowd of
men, in tattered European clothes, except now and then one in a mangy
skin, followed by as many women, all naked except for little leather
aprons, and by a swarm of children as naked as when they were born,
came shouting eagerly towards us. They were nearly all provided with
bottles, or pots, or cans, and cried out for brandy. “Suppy, suppy,
bas, verkup Brandwen!” they repeated impatiently. They had brought all
manner of things to barter for spirits. One man held up a jackal’s
hide, another a goat-skin; another offered us bullock-thongs; yet
another had brought out a bullock-yoke; and some of them had their
homemade wooden spoons and platters to dispose of to us. It was a
disgusting scene. We tried to treat the whole matter with contempt,
and to take no notice of their demand; but when we attempted to drive
on, their importunities waxed louder than ever. They caught hold of
the bridles, and pushed the oxen back, becoming ever more and more
clamorous. One of the men made what he evidently imagined would be
an irresistible appeal, by offering me a couple of greasy shillings.
They next tried to bribe us with some skins of milk, which the women
were made to bring out from the huts, and they were driven to despair
when they found that the offer of a goat that they dragged forward
was not accepted. Their screechings and shoutings were of no avail;
not a drop of fire-water was to be extorted from me. We had almost to
beat them off before they would allow us to proceed. A few persevered
in following us to the ford, and made a final effort to secure one
bottle by a private negotiation, out of sight of their neighbours.
They confidentially offered five shillings for the bottle; but I was
inexorable.

  [Illustration: MOBBED FOR SPIRITS.

    _Page 236._]

The entire width of the river was here about sixty yards, but it had
a rocky island in the middle, so that practically there were two
streams to cross. The current, after the rain, was still so strong that
every one seemed to think it would be prudent to delay the passage
for a little longer. I did not share the apprehension, but was quite
willing to acquiesce in the universal opinion. Under a large acacia,
a short distance from where we were waiting, stood a waggon and a
couple of huts, which we could see at once were occupied by a white
family; some broken wheels, some old iron, and some blacksmith’s tools
lying about, betokened the occupation of the owner. He was one of two
smiths who resided in the place. He had taken up his quarters here
close by the ford, the other having settled near the entrance of the
glen, by the mission-station. He complained that the diminution of the
population, and the general impoverishment of the place, had seriously
interfered with his business; but he had nevertheless succeeded in
getting together a goodly herd of sheep and cows. The other smith might
have done equally well, but he had spent all his earnings in brandy.
Naturally, there was not much good feeling between the rivals.

In answer to our inquiries about the ford, we were told that all the
traders, giraffe and ostrich-hunters, missionaries, or any one who
wanted to take the shortest cut through Kuruman, crossed by it; but,
somehow or other, nearly every third waggon managed more or less to
come to grief. The chief was disinclined to do anything to improve the
ford; nor, if he had been disposed, would it have been of much good, as
the stream, every time it was swollen, brought down such accumulations
of sand, soil, and stones, that the character of the channel was
perpetually altering.

Acting under the advice of the blacksmith, who pronounced the ford
perfectly safe, we crossed in the afternoon, reaching the opposite
side without the least difficulty, and after a short rest went on to
Taung. Without pausing in the native quarter, we proceeded to the
mission-house, a stone building, with a gabled roof thatched with
grass, standing in a nice little garden. On entering we found ourselves
face to face with a gentleman about thirty years of age, with a long
light beard. He looked at us at first with some surprise, especially at
my friend F., who was carrying arms. He was the resident missionary,
Mr. Brown. I soon introduced myself, and explained the object of my
journey, and he at once gave us a very kindly welcome, apologizing for
the simplicity and limited extent of his accommodation. He mentioned
that he was engaged upon the compilation of a Sechuana dictionary, a
work that has since been published. After ascertaining that we intended
making a short halt at Taung, he invited me to bring the waggon into
his enclosure, saying that I should thus escape being pestered by the
natives for brandy. Even Mankuruane himself was often very troublesome
to strangers, and the protection of the mission-house would be a
shelter from annoyance. Just at present, however, the chief was not at
home, having gone to Kuruman on a visit to another chief, named Mora.
Mrs. Brown and her children were also at the same place; they had gone
to spend a few weeks with the wife of the missionary there. The place
altogether was very picturesque, being, both for its pleasantness and
for its population, the foremost of all the Batlapin towns. It formerly
contained nearly 6000 inhabitants, but by the year 1879 it was not so
large by one-third.

We resumed our journey on the afternoon of the 12th. We took a
north-north-east course, and at no great distance from the Harts River
came to the Barolong kraal, called by the name of its chieftain,
Maruma. The excessive rainfall must have been confined to a very
limited area; for, although we had had it so heavily, the little river
here was quite dry, and there was hardly any water at all to be had
except in some holes that had been made for the purpose.

Next mid-day we left the valley, and after a short drive along some
stony hills, arrived at a rich tract of pasture-land. Whilst on our
halt, I killed a fine bird of prey (_Melierax canorus_), and a
large lizard of the kind which I have before described.

Approaching now the north-eastern frontier of the Batlapin country,
I expected soon to enter upon the small territory belonging to the
Mamusa Korannas. Turning our course due north on the 14th, we found
ourselves on another extensive plain, overgrown with bushes. Several
heavy showers fell, and at last induced us to make a halt; but the
sight of a number of antelopes darting about among the marethwa-bushes
was too tempting to be resisted, and I started out for a chase. This
proved a more troublesome matter than I had anticipated. To avoid the
bushes, I had to twist my horse about continually; and this I found
so discouraging that I thought I might venture to change my tactics,
and make a bold dash straight ahead. My horse had hardly begun to
bound forward when he came to a sudden pause; failing to leap over a
mimosa, he had plunged into the middle of it. I endeavoured to pull
him back, but the sharp double thorns ran into him so much the more.
The poor creature began to kick violently, and snorting aloud, only
got more deeply imbedded in the prickles. My clothes began to suffer
considerably in the struggle, and glad enough I was when the horse
contrived to extricate its hind-quarters from the bush. I threw my gun
upon the ground and managed to alight, and finally to drag the excited
animal clear away; but my face, my arms, my neck, even my legs, were
all smarting violently; and when I made my way back to the waggon, I
was only to be compared to the triumphant hero of a cat-fight. I am not
likely to forget my experience of that mimosatree. Nature, like a cruel
step-mother, seems to have banished some of the offspring of Flora,
unendowed with fragrancy or honey, to the desert wilds of Africa, where
they take their revenge on any unoffending mortals that come within
their reach.

  [Illustration: CAUGHT BY THORNS.]

  [Illustration: CHEAP DIAMONDS.]

Soon afterwards we entered a shallow valley, nearly circular in form,
and on the heights surrounding it we observed a few native farms. The
valley itself opened on to a steppe, covered with tall, dry grass,
where a herd of sprightly springbocks were enjoying their antics. We
halted for two hours for dinner. Just as we were preparing to move
on, we saw a Kaffir waggon approaching from the north. The owner, a
Batlapin, wearing a long great-coat, was recognized b; Pit as a man
he had previously known at Klipdrift. Once, Pit said, he had been
poor, but now he was very rich, possessing two waggons and large herds
of cattle. He increased his gains by travelling about amongst the
Barolongs between the Harts River and Molapo, selling the commodities
that he purchased in the diamond-fields. Having ascertained from Pit
that I was the “bas” of the waggon, he walked round it twice or thrice,
and then, leering at me with his twinkling eyes, he put his hand to
his hat and said, in most insinuating tone, “Sir!” Then producing
from his pocket a little box, about two inches in diameter, such as
were commonly disposed of to the natives for snuff-boxes, he gave a
cunning grin, and began to rattle it. I at once got an inkling as to
the way in which he had gained some of his wealth. He jerked his finger
towards his servants, and said that they had been working for him in
the diggings, and here was the result of their toil. Opening the box,
he showed me some twenty diamonds or more, the largest being of about
three carats, and told me that I might have the lot for 30s. Feeling
only too certain that they had all been stolen, I positively refused to
be a purchaser.

In the course of the march during the afternoon I found a good many
weevils under the leaves of a liliaceous plant, as well as several
kinds of locusts that were new to me. It poured with rain in the
evening, and we had to put up a canvas awning for a shelter.

  [Illustration: SURPRISED BY BABOONS.]

We began our next march by passing over some plains of short grass
that were swarming with myriads of large-winged ants. The rain had
been so abundant during the last few days, that I did not doubt for
a moment that we should find plenty of water everywhere. We did not
take the trouble to procure a supply for ourselves, nor did we give
the oxen a proper draught before starting; our disappointment was
consequently very great when we ascertained that there was none to
be had, and that once again we were to be exposed to the torture of
thirst. A turn in the valley showed us the bed of a spruit not far off,
and I felt certain that after such rain as we had witnessed there would
of necessity be at least some water trickling along it. Accordingly,
I clambered down the sides, which were nearly perpendicular, and
determined to investigate the bottom. A number of other defiles opened
into the chasm, and the spot was most picturesque; but to my chagrin
I found that there were no signs of water. Defeated in the object
for which I had taken the pains to descend the ravine, I was turning
to leave it, when some stones came pattering down the rocks in my
direction. I soon became aware that the stones were being designedly
aimed at me; and, looking up, I saw a herd of baboons perched among the
trees. I had my gun with me; and, not being in the mood to be pelted in
this fashion, I fired into a tree upon which two of the baboons were
sitting. It was only attached to a cleft in the rock by a single root,
and my shot tore it right asunder. One of the baboons sprang wildly
into the air, the other clung in alarm to the falling stem. An old male
now appeared just in front, and began to pick up some stones; a second
shot, however, had the effect of putting him and the entire group to a
speedy flight.

The hill that we next ascended bore all the appearance of having been
occupied, though probably more than a century ago, by Makalahari
or some other native tribes; the summit was covered by a number of
enclosures made of rough-hewn stones, and about two or three feet high,
varying from fifteen to twenty-five square yards in area. Many of the
Bechuana tribes declare that their own grandfathers occupied the site,
but it seems unlikely that the abandonment of the position has been
quite so recent.

From the top of the hill we could see the country round for some
fifteen miles; it sank gradually towards the north. Five miles ahead
we made out a native village, and hastened on towards it, in the eager
hope of getting water; but on reaching it we only received directions
to make for a depression further on to the north-west, now partially
hidden by the slope on which we were standing. We arrived at the place
only to meet with fresh disappointment; and distressed as we were by
our prolonged thirst, we were compelled to pass another night without
any relief.

We lost no time in making a start the following morning, and, turning
into a wide valley that ran northwards, we came in sight of a native
village, consisting of about forty huts, the shape of which evidenced
that they were the property of Koranna and Bechuana Barolongs. The
village ran principally along the right bank of a little river-bed
containing a number of small pools. Our bullocks soon sniffed the
water, and quickening their pace, were making their way almost beyond
control to the bank, when suddenly all further progress was blockaded
by a dozen or more Koranna men, all dressed as usual in ragged
European costume. Making violent gesticulations, and shouting aloud,
they made me understand that no animals could be allowed to drink
there for less than live shillings a head. Of course I repudiated a
demand so exorbitant, and offered what seemed to me a more reasonable
compensation. They refused to listen to my terms, nor could Pit,
with all his powers of persuasion, induce them to swerve from their
determination.

They had soon found out the desperate condition of thirst to which we
were reduced, and had made up their minds to make a good bargain out
of our necessities; but I was not to be baffled; and, knowing them to
be thorough cowards, informed them that, whether they liked it or not,
I was resolved to have the water I required. Taking it for granted
that my threat implied a recourse to fire-arms, they set up a piteous
howl, and kept on bawling out some native word, which I was told was a
cry for help. In answer to the appeal a number of the inhabitants came
hurrying out, Korannas armed with muskets, Barolongs and Makalahari
brandishing assegais. The Korannas who carried guns were for the most
part women. Partly in their own tongue, partly in Dutch, the whole
crowd, now nearly fifty altogether, broke out into the most savage
invectives; the women shrieked out the most dreadful of imprecations,
while the children, from behind the enclosures, yelled to the top of
their voices; our own dogs, of course, were the reverse of mute, and
the native curs yelped and snarled in chorus. Never was there a more
complete pandemonium. I had come with the most peaceable intentions;
yet, here I was, either by my own want of tact, or by their greed of
alcohol, all but involved in a fatal contention with the natives.

Seeing the threatening aspect of affairs, my people levelled their
guns; this led to a counter-demonstration, and the weapons of our
antagonists were pointed against us. My knowledge of the Koranna
character came to my aid, and prevented me from getting into a dilemma;
I was quite aware that however much they might be urged on by a few
care-for-naught leaders, as a rule they were the most abject of
cowards. Upon this conviction I acted, and avoided any precipitate
measures.

Leaving two of our party in charge of the waggon, I rode out quite
alone towards the mob. They did not attack me; I did not suppose
they would; but louder than ever they assailed me with the bitterest
revilings. Steadily I advanced towards them, when all at once the
foremost began to retreat; the rear quickly began to follow. In a
moment the exultant voice of Pit behind me, shouted, “Det kerle lup!
Det kerle lup!!”[6]

I heard the triumphant tone, and dashed off into a gallop. Had I
been a field-marshal ordering my forces to retire, I could not more
effectually have cleared the field. When I pulled up I could only
burst into a fit of laughter; the comical way in which man, woman,
and child had struggled to keep out of reach of my horse’s heels was
irresistible, none of them apparently feeling safe until helter-skelter
they had reached the security of their own hedges; once within these,
they turned to deliver their maledictions more vigorously than before;
perhaps I was not the worse off for being unable to comprehend what was
doubtless a tirade against the overbearing acts of the white man. There
was no further opposition, and our famished animals were at once sent
forward to enjoy a refreshing drink, while we took care to replenish
our own vessels with an ample supply of water.

  [Illustration: RECEPTION IN MUSEMANYANA.

    _Page 249._]

As we quitted the village we were greeted by another storm of
vituperation, which, as we did not condescend to take any notice of
it, became more furious than ever; but so uproarious did the shouting
become that the riot unfortunately startled our oxen, and caused them
to swerve aside so suddenly that our front axle snapped in two. No more
untimely accident could have befallen us, and we involuntarily raised
a cry of dismay. I congratulated myself most thoroughly on not having
come into overt collision with the people, for, in spite of their being
cowards and the worst of marksmen, they might, by a stray shot from
their old muskets, have done us a very serious mischief; moreover, to
have come to grief amongst the Barolongs or Makalahari would have been
a very different thing from finding ourselves helpless in the midst of
an infuriated crowd of odious Korannas.

As it was, I relied very much upon the effect of my firmness with
regard to the water, and was right in my conjecture that the natives
would not try to take advantage of our misadventure. They no sooner
saw what had happened than they hurried back from the enclosures to
which they had retreated, and began laughing, hooting, and screaming
around us; the children danced merrily at the fun. At a hint from me
my people, who had been sitting on the front of the waggon with their
guns on their knees ready for action, laid them aside, and joined in
the general laugh; this had a wonderful effect in bringing the crowd
into good humour; I took the opportunity of telling the old barefooted
overseer that I should have to water my cattle at his pools oftener
than I expected; however, I was quite willing, I said, to pay him
properly, and he was soon in as amicable a mood as the rest, and
recommended me to send for a certain man in the village of Marokana,
who would be able to replace the damaged axle.

Within the last ten years, and especially since the introduction of
spirituous liquors into the country, wherever the Hottentot element
has mingled with the Bantu, or whenever the Batlapins, Barolongs, or
other kindred tribes have not had capable and responsible men for their
chiefs, they have been corrupted by the Korannas, Griquas, and others
who have adopted all the vices, and none of the virtues of the white
men. The consequence has been that drunkenness, idleness, robbery, and
even murder, have become rife among them. It is sincerely to be hoped
that the measures lately taken by the government in Griqualand West
with regard to the Korannas will have beneficial results.

The arrangement that I made with the overseer was that our cattle
should have as much water as they wanted at the rate of a shilling a
day each; he was even considerate enough to direct me to some clean
pools that had never been used by the villagers. Before I set out
again, I engaged the services of two native lads for eight shillings a
week each. Pit’s wages were ten shillings a week.

  [Illustration: MUSEMANYANA.]

Musemanyana is the most northerly possession of the Koranna king of
Mamusa; on the north and east it is bounded by plains abounding in
game. To these plains I have given the name of “Quagga Flats;” they
belong to Montsua, and are the common hunting-grounds of Batlapins,
Barolongs, Korannas, and Dutch farmers, who come either from the
Western Transvaal, or have been permitted by various chiefs to settle
on their territory. On the west lies the small dominion of the Marokana
chief who nominally owns allegiance to Montsua, the king of the
Barolongs, but without any payment of tribute.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

                    FROM MUSEMANYANA TO MOSHANENG.

   Departure from Musemanyana--The Quagga Flats--Hyæna-hunt
   by moonlight--Makalahari horsemanship--Konana--A lion on
   the Sitlagole--Animal life on the table-land--Gnu-hunt at
   night--A missing comrade--Piles of bones--Hunting a wild
   goose--South African spring-time--Molema’s Town--Mr. Webb and
   the Mission-house--The chief Molema--Huss Hill--Neighbourhood of
   Moshaneng--Illustrious visitors.


No sooner was the axle mended than we left Musemanyana, travelling
on till it was quite late at night. The wind was blowing almost a
gale when we halted, and in lighting our fire we had some difficulty
in preventing another steppe-burning; the next morning, however, the
21st, was warm and bright. Shortly after starting we came across some
Makalahari and Barolong women collecting young locusts just emerged
from their pupa state. It was not until we had gone on for three
hours and a half that we arrived at a depression, and found some
pools of clear water; from this point our road lay to the north-east,
over wide plains with bushes few and far between. The dry grass had
all the pleasant fragrance of hay, and young blades were already
sprouting amidst the withering stems. In all directions the ground
was burrowed by jumping-hares, porcupines, and earth-pigs. Hyænas
had taken possession of the holes that the earth-pigs had deserted,
and occasionally we observed the lairs of jackals. In localities
exclusively populated by natives, jackals, caama-foxes, and proteles
are freely hunted for the sake of their skins, which are made into
coats; but in the parts where white men predominate, and game is
abundant, hyænas are chiefly made the object of attack, being partially
exterminated by strychnine.

  [Illustration: BAROLONG MAIDEN COLLECTING LOCUSTS.]

Fourteen miles further on we came to another valley, broader than the
last, and containing numerous pools; the grass here, although it had
been burnt down in September, had already grown again a foot high.
In the valley was the last of the outlying settlements, belonging to
Hendrick, the chief of Musemanyana, and we counted more than a hundred
of his cattle. The plains extended right away to the horizon on every
side.

We next entered upon the Quagga Flats, and found ourselves upon
Montsua’s territory. The weather continued genial, and the wind had
dropped, but the marshy condition of the soil made our progress still
difficult. Meeting some Barolong people on their way from Marokana
to hunt, I tried to bargain with them for the exchange of some of
my draught-oxen, but our negotiation fell through, as the Barolongs
demanded 8l. a head on every bullock that should be bartered.

On the 23rd F. and I, accompanied by “Boy,” one of our new black
servants, left the waggon and went off on a little hunting-excursion.
It was on this occasion that I first became aware of the fact that
springbock gazelles leave their fawns all day, only returning to
them in the evening to stay with them at night. Any one wandering
about the plains where the grass is not many inches high may come
within twenty yards of the pretty little creatures without perceiving
them, and although they do not try to escape observation, like the
orbeki gazelles, by lying flat upon the ground, they are often very
effectually concealed by the herbage.

In the course of the afternoon we turned into a road leading northwards
that subsequently proved to be the direct route between Mamusa and
Konana; the track had probably not been open to vehicles until within
the last three months, though apparently it had been previously used
as a footpath by the natives. We were now on the edge of a plain that
extended east and west as far as the eye could reach, but was bounded
on the north by some hilltops, and broken in the same direction by
clumps of wood; these, however, were some miles away. A lovely evening
passed into just as lovely a night, and the full moon, encircled by the
very slightest of halos, and stars twinkling with a subdued lustre,
shed a kindly glimmer over the dark grey plain. In spite of fatigue,
I lay awake long enjoying the beauty of the scene, my companions all
sound asleep, and the dogs the sole sharers of my watch.

  [Illustration: A HYÆNA HUNT.]

A sudden movement on the part of Niger disturbed me from my reverie;
followed by Onkel, another of our dogs, he sprang forward and began to
growl. The long-drawn howl of a spotted hyæna had broken the stillness
of the night, and though it was, as I supposed, at some distance, it
quite accounted for the agitation of the dogs. I was so well accustomed
to the sound that I did not pay much regard to it, and prepared to lay
down my head to sleep; but so obstreperous did the dogs become, that
I was soon convinced that the intruders could not be far away, and
resolved to make a raid upon the disturbers of our rest. I crept up
to Pit and Boy, and after shaking them till they were awake enough to
understand me, I gave them orders to hold in the dogs. Going to F.,
I tried to arouse him, but did not wait to ascertain whether he took
in what I said to him. Without losing more time than I could help,
I procured some ammunition, and started off in the direction from
which the howling seemed to come. The servant-boys had the greatest
difficulty in preventing the dogs from following me; the whole canine
race of Africa instinctively regards the hyæna as an enemy that should
be attacked whenever opportunity affords.

I advanced about a hundred yards, sometimes stooping, sometimes
crawling on my hands and knees, but without seeing any signs of hyænas;
all at once, however, a low growl reached my ear, and I placed myself
behind an ant-hill ready to take advantage of the first chance of
a shot. In vain I waited. I made the best scrutiny I could of the
surroundings, but I could see nothing but ant-hills, and the growls
were not repeated. I was beginning to suppose that my own movements
had scared the beasts away; still I waited on till the ants began to
make my position uncomfortable, not to say untenable. Just as I was
thinking I must retire, I was startled by a hideous yell, scarcely a
dozen yards away. I strained my eyes to peer everywhere around me,
but the moonlight revealed nothing but ant-hills in every direction.
Whilst I was still in suspense, I became aware of a savage growl close
at my heels; turning myself round, I was about to fire, when Niger’s
well-known bark made me hold my hand. Frantic with excitement, the dog
had been too much for Pit to hold, and Boy, fearful that the hyæna
would be more than a match for him, had let Onkel, a far stronger
animal, loose as well; and now the two dogs together were scouring
the place, full of eagerness to scent out their enemy. They scampered
backwards and forwards, far and near; but the hyænas had obviously
adopted the prudent plan of timely retreat, and at last I was compelled
to abandon all further hope of success, and returned to the waggon to
bear my disappointment as best I could.

Of all the South African beasts of prey, the spotted hyæna is the most
enduring and the most tenacious of life, and I have known instances
where they have withstood the effects of fearful wounds for double the
time that I believe other mammalia could have held out. I shall have to
refer to these animals more than once again.

Next morning we reached one of the patches of wood that we had seen
towards the distant north; it contained some wretched huts, made of
branches driven in the ground and covered with leaves, occupied by
Yochoms, a branch of the Makalahari. These Yochoms were dependents of
a Barolong, named Mokalana, who resided in another of these woods a
few miles away; both settlements bore the names of their respective
owners. The custom that the Bechuanas have of calling their towns and
villages after their builders or owners, frequently causes a great
deal of confusion, as in this way a place sometimes gets known by two
or three names, those of past as well as present chiefs; and when a
chief changes his place of residence, the new settlement will bear the
same name as the old one, although it may be not more than a few miles
distant.

The Yochoms had to look after a herd of cows and sheep for their liege
lord, and it was also their business to hunt for him; for this purpose
they were supplied with horses, and seemed much more at home in the
saddle than any other of the Bechuanas.

By a present of a pocket-knife, I induced one of the natives to ride
off to the “Bas” and inquire whether he was disposed to let me have
some young oxen in exchange for my old ones, if I gave him proper
compensation in money and ammunition.

  [Illustration: A YOCHOM OF THE KALAHARI CHASING A BLESSBOCK.]

While we were taking our mid-day meal, another Makalahari came back
from hunting, mounted on a powerful brown mare. Quite imposing in his
appearance was this swarthy son of the South African table-land, as he
rode along in his shining leather tunic, the shafts of his assegais
supported in a leathern socket attached to the stirrup, and the carcass
of a blessbock slung across the front of his primitive saddle.

All the horses are bred upon the plains, and so well accustomed are
they to the clumps of grass and to the holes in the soil, that the
riders give themselves no concern about their bridles, but chase the
fugitive herds of antelopes at full gallop, and generally succeed in
overtaking them (except the springbocks, which are too fleet to be
caught in this way) in about half an hour; the assegai is then brought
into requisition, and is aimed with such precision that it rarely fails
to hit its mark. One head of game thus secured, the huntsman, as a
rule, never attempts to get a second, but having despatched his booty
with his other assegai, he forthwith turns his horse’s head homewards.
The fewer the wounds which the animal receives, the greater the value
of its skin to the Bas.

As my messenger was long in returning, I began to prepare to start;
but just as the bullocks were being harnessed the man was espied in
the distance. The message he brought was to the effect that the Bas
had only one team for his own use, and that he could not consent to
part with it. At the same time, however, he sent word that he had a
sheep which he would exchange for a mug (about 1 lb.) of gunpowder.
Accepting his offer, I received a fine “fat-tail;” and, in addition
to the gunpowder, I gave several trifling articles, such as needles,
tinder-boxes, and little chains, which the Makalahari reciprocated
by presenting me with some proteles’ skins, and a few blessbock and
hartebeest horns.

The unwelcome announcement was made to me the first thing next morning
that one of my bullocks had died in the night, so that the burden of
the waggon had to fall upon three pair instead of four.

Opening into the valley along which we were making our way were several
side valleys, all containing cultivated fields. After a few miles we
came upon one of these running north and south, which, we were informed
by some passing Korannas, was that of the Konana River, that flows
through highlands to the Maretsana. These highlands are occupied by
Korannas and Barolongs and their vassals, and are under the protection
of their chief, Shebor, who in his turn is subject to Montsua.

After rather a tedious drive, we came to Konana, which lay extended
along the slope of a hill studded with trees, and contained 1000
inhabitants. I indulged a hope that I should be able here to procure
some fresh bullocks; and in order to attract the attention of the
people, I encamped on an open piece of sward just to the east of the
town, on a declivity leading downwards to the river, and made a display
in front of the waggon of various commodities that I had brought with
me to enable me to make purchases for my scientific collection. It was
not long before a crowd of visitors arrived, and with much curiosity
inspected my stock, which consisted of a velveteen suit, two bright
woollen shirts, a hat, half a dozen pocket-handkerchiefs, and half a
roll of tobacco. But, although the chief came in person, I found no one
disposed to negotiate with me for what I wanted.

  [Illustration: A BAROLONG STORY-TELLER.]

Several of the residents, who entered into conversation with us,
informed us that the surrounding hills, as well as the heights along
the Sitlagole and Maretsana Rivers, were infested with lions, which
were so accustomed to the sight of men and to the sound of fire-arms
that they were incredibly bold. Although the plains were abundantly
supplied with game, the monarchs of the forest exhibited a decided
predilection for domestic animals; and the chief, Shebor, told us that
he had to lament, not only the loss of many of his cattle, but of
several of his people; and he advised us to keep a sharp look-out all
along the opposite hills, which were amongst their favourite resorts.

He related a distressing incident that had occurred on one of the
neighbouring rivers. A party of natives were on their way from Maraba,
in the Makalaka country, to the diamond-fields, a distance of 800
miles. It was by no means unusual for such parties to quit their homes
with simply a hide and an assegai, quite prepared, during their long
and arduous journey, to live on nothing but roots, wild fruit, and
occasionally a small head of game. The spectacle they would present
to any traveller who might meet them was very piteous. Sometimes they
would be almost destitute of food of any sort for days together, and
be reduced well-nigh to skeletons. Their progress would become more
and more painful; and they would endeavour to mitigate the pangs of
hunger by drawing in the waist-bands which with a strip of hide formed
clothing. The ordinary custom was for them to travel in single file,
the strongest first, then the less robust, followed by the weakest;
so that an invalid would often be quite by himself, a long way in the
rear. In the party of which the chief was speaking there were two
brothers, one of whom, on account of his feeble condition of health,
had for more than a week been obliged to take his place last in the
procession. Arriving at the bank of the Sitlagole, the party halted to
search for some roots, not unlike turnips, which were known to grow
there, and which they hoped to cook and enjoy for supper. They found
the roots in such abundance that it was resolved to spend the night on
the spot, and they kindled a fire to prepare their meal. On closing in,
it was soon ascertained that the sick comrade was missing. They looked
at each other with much perplexity; but the brother of the absent man,
without losing a moment, snatched up his own and his brother’s share
of the roots that had been gathered, fastened them to a strap upon his
shoulder, seized his assegai, and started off. The rest drew closer
in, enjoyed their supper, lighted up several additional fires as a
protection from attack, and laid themselves down under the bushes to
sleep.

The missing Bechuana was a Batloka, and the evidence went to show
that the poor fellow had been compelled to rest so often and so long
from his weakness, hunger, and sore feet, that he had fallen far into
the rear, and, missing his way, had strayed into a rocky valley full
of bushes that were notoriously the haunt of lions. Here no doubt he
had been pounced upon and killed, for the brother had not gone far
before he could trace the spot where the proper path had been left,
and proceeding onwards he soon observed a lion’s footprints in the
sand. Instead of turning back, he had apparently caught sight of his
brother’s stick, straw hat, and gourd bottle, lying on the ground, and,
trusting to his assegai, had resolved to venture on alone.

  [Illustration: THE BECHUANA FINDS THE REMAINS OF HIS BROTHER.

    _Page 205._]

“But what was an assegai,” exclaimed Shebor, “in the face of a lion who
had just tasted human blood?”

It was clear that before he reached his brother’s corpse the lion had
sprung from its concealment, and secured him as a second victim.

Finding next morning that both the men were absent the whole party was
in consternation, too truly fearing the worst. They applied for help at
a Barolong farm close at hand, and, following the tracks, were not long
in discovering the two mangled bodies close to each other. The marks on
the ground were quite distinct, and left no doubt that a lion had just
quitted the spot. Probably it had only been scared away by their own
approach, and they determined to continue their chase. After they had
made their way for about 500 yards along the bank, they caught sight of
a tawny object in a thicket just ahead. They hardly dared to hope that
it was the creature of which they were in pursuit; but simultaneously a
number of them fired, and great was their triumph when they discovered
amongst the bushes the carcass of a huge lion pierced by six bullets.

Such was the substance of Shebor’s narrative, which he told with much
energy and many gesticulations. It had its due effect in inducing us to
take every precaution on our way to our next encampment on the slope,
about three miles from Konana.

The next morning was again very fine and bright, and the golden
sunbeams that penetrated the foliage above our heads awakened the
feathered tribe betimes to commence their usual concert. Small
song-birds were especially numerous, as well as various kinds of
shrikes, and the _Tockus flavirostris_.

For two reasons our progress all day was very slow. Not only were our
bullocks so weary that they required continual intervals of rest, but
the bushwood was so dense that we felt the necessity of being very
cautious. We did not, however, catch sight of a single lion; and, in
due time, found ourselves once more upon comparatively open country.

It turned out a gorgeous day, and I am sure that none of us will forget
the view upon which we gazed across the table-land. To a sportsman,
and still more to a student of animal life, such days must ever remain
engraven on the memory; they atone for the discomforts which have been
endured in the past; they explain the longing which arises to revisit
former haunts.

  [Illustration: WILD ANIMALS ON THE PLAINS.

    _Page 267._]

On reaching the top of the plateau, we looked across a vast
plain, extending for at least twenty miles to the north and south,
bounded on the east by mimosa groves. Except around the pools where
the grass grew high, the plain was covered with a rich carpet of new
green sward, thickly studded with brown ant-hills, and forming the
habitat of numerous sorts of game. Dark-brown, light-brown, tawny,
yellow, motley, and black, were the robes in which a fanciful nature
had bedecked her children. There were striped gnus and black gnus,
blessbocks and hartebeests, springbocks and zebras; some were grazing,
others gambolling, whilst here and there a herd would stalk solemnly
along in single file, as though wrapped in meditation. Several herds of
blessbocks stood in long rows cropping the pasturage, and quite near to
us was a group of nearly 150 zebras, wending their way in a wide curve
slowly to the south. In smaller bands were hartebeests innumerable;
black gnus, in herds varying from ten head to eighty, had taken up
their position near the bushes; and between them and the zebras were
springbock gazelles, far too many to be counted. Nor were birds wanting
to add to the animation of the scene. There were great bustards
(_Eupodotis Kaffra_ and _Kori_); there were two of the lesser bustards
that I have already mentioned. There were chenalopex, ducks, plovers,
ibises, cranes, and many others; their rich plumage and graceful forms
as they rose in the air, or hovered just above the ground, contributing
largely to the general charm.

I had seen much of the animal life of South Africa during my first
journey, but I had never witnessed anything to compare with this; it
exceeded all that imagination could depict, and appeared to me enough
to transform the most indifferent into a keen lover of nature. For
a full hour we feasted our eyes upon the prospect before us, quite
forgetting the necessities of our weary cattle. So fascinated were we
with the scene that we resolved to make our encampment where we were
for several days.

Connected with another, this plain extends to the upper Harts River on
the east, to the Maritsana on the north, and nearly as far as Mamusa on
the south. It covers an enormous area, the greater part of it belonging
to King Montsua. It has no perceptible slope, and it is only close to
the river-banks that the rain gets carried off at all; consequently,
its surface holds numerous salt-pans varying in size, besides many
shallow depressions, always full of water in the rainy season. The
salt-pans, it would seem, have a great deal to do with the wonderful
way in which the game thrives.

In one of these depressions we chose the site of our encampment, about
three miles from the spot where we had stood gazing at the view. The
zebras and the blessbocks were the first to take flight as our waggon
proceeded, and some of the herds made their way through the thickets in
the glades, and scampered off to the adjoining flat.

We could distinctly hear the lowing of the gnu-bulls as they led their
herds to drink, and we determined that on the following evening we
would take our stand and watch for them by one of the rain-pools. In
the morning we made a preliminary attempt at a _battue_ on the
southern end of the plain, but without any success. Pit and F. took a
wrong direction, and consequently left a gap between us of about 360
yards, through which the game made an escape.

  [Illustration: BAROLONGS CHASING ZEBRAS.

    _Page 269._]

Returning to the waggon, we found some Barolongs, who had come from
Konana, and were on their way to one of the mimosa groves, where some
of their companions were already waiting for them, for a _battue_
of their own. They offered us their assistance, but as it was my object
to observe the different kinds of game, rather than to kill a number of
them, I declined to avail myself of their help.

As night drew on Boly and I set out to the separate spots upon which
we had previously fixed, intending to make ourselves during our
observations as comfortable as we could in some small holes in the
ground. I contrived to creep into my hiding-place without rousing any
birds from the water, a circumstance that, however trifling it might
seem to be, was really of great moment, as the clatter made by a number
of birds startled suddenly, and rising on the wing, is quite enough to
make the larger game aware of danger and avoid the spot.

The night was rather dark, but in the north a storm was travelling
eastwards, and repeated flashes of lightning gleamed across the sky.
Except for an occasional cackle or twitter from some birds on the
water, the silence was almost unbroken; several times I thought I could
hear the low growl of gnus, but probably it was the suggestion of my
imagination; once too I felt sure that I caught a sound as of a dog
lapping in the stream, but though I strained my eyes I could discern
nothing, and could only conjecture that a stray jackal might have
approached the water to leeward of me.

  [Illustration: GNU-HUNTING BY NIGHT.]

Patiently I waited on, until at last there was no doubt that I could
really distinguish the sound for which I had been listening. Raising
my head and laying my ear upon a bare place on the ground, I heard
the heavy thud of a herd of gnus tramping along a game-track. Full of
expectation I crouched down again. When next I looked up, I was aware
of the lightning in the north being much more vivid than before. Soon I
was able to hear the grunting of the approaching herd, and had not long
to wait before I made out one of the gnus on the opposite side of the
pool; it came along the water’s edge some way towards me, then turning
round, it retreated a little distance, returning almost directly,
accompanied by several others. They all stood for a considerable time
without moving, but the leader, followed by another of the herd, at
length began cautiously to descend to the sandy shore. As the creature
stood directly in front of me, it was so foreshortened that I could
see nothing of it but its head. As well as the darkness would permit I
took my aim straight at the skull, and fired; the crack of the rifle
was followed by a distinct crash of the bullet, and I was sure I had
hit my mark; without paying any attention to the rest of the herd, I
rushed out to secure my victim; but my search was all in vain; I groped
about with my gun-barrel, but to no purpose; I was so certain that I
had struck the creature that I was quite bewildered at its escape,
and should have persevered long in looking for it if the increasing
vividness of the lightning had not warned me of the impending storm,
and induced me to return.

On arriving at the waggon, I was disconcerted at finding that Boly,
who had set out with me, had not come back, and supposing that he
had missed his way, I sent F. some distance up the slope with a
lighted firebrand, hoping that it might serve to guide him in the
right direction; but although the beacon was brandished until the
great rain-drops fell and extinguished it, there was nothing to be
ascertained about Boly. The wind had now risen to a hurricane, and
brought upon us a most furious storm. Although our position in the
hollow had the advantage of sheltering us in some degree from the
violence of the tempest, it had the disadvantage of receiving all the
torrents that rushed down from the flats above, and we were rendered
wretchedly uncomfortable by the in-pouring flood. However, it was not
so much the discomfort we endured as the anxiety about our missing
companion that engrossed our minds; we felt so perplexed and baffled
that we could talk and think of nothing else, and yet we were powerless
to aid him. The storm was increasing, flash following on flash, and
thunder-clap rolling after thunder-clap, and the rain beat so heavily
upon the waggon-tilt that it was only by shouting at the top of our
voices that we could make each other hear. The temperature, which all
day had been very high, became suddenly checked, and a cold chill made
us shiver again in our damp clothes.

The storm lasted for hours, and by the time that the wind abated,
and the rain ceased, we were all very fatigued. It was indispensable
that we should have a little repose, but we hardly allowed ourselves a
couple of hours’ rest before we were ready, by daybreak, to make what
search we could for our missing friend. I sent one of the servants
in the likeliest direction, and he had not gone many hundred yards,
when he fell in with Boly making his way towards the waggon. He was
covered with dirt from head to foot, and was as pitiable-looking an
object as could be imagined; but although he was trembling with cold,
and begrimed with mud, he was carrying a gun as bright as when he had
started. He had not much to tell; in order to avoid the fury of the
storm he had crept into a hole by the side of an ant-hill, where he had
made the best of things all night through, but in order to keep his gun
clean and ready for all emergencies, he had wrapped it in his jacket,
which he had taken off for the purpose.

On the morning of the 29th I took a stroll, and brought back a
hyæna-skull; this was placed along with some skulls of gnus,
blessbocks, and springbocks that we had collected already since we had
made our sojourn here.

At mid-day we started again, going to the eastward with the object
of getting into the road leading from Taung to Molema’s Town, whence
I should proceed again to the north. After going about six miles we
rested in a mimosa grove, where we fell in with some Barolongs. We
passed a great number of deserted huts, round which the bones of
animals were heaped in piles; to account for such an accumulation
the slaughter must have been prodigious. Curious in the matter of
pathological deformities, I turned the heaps over, but found the bones
nearly all broken; the horns were perfect with the exception of two
which had been pierced by bullets, the wounds having healed and a fresh
horny substance having formed in the apertures. I likewise found a
pointed piece of horn, pierced with holes and attached to a thong, used
by the natives for dressing leather.

  [Illustration: DESERTED HUNTING-PLACE OF THE BAROLONGS.]

When it grew dark we pitched our camp under some acacias on a hill
near a salt lake, which was itself quite dry, but had some fresh
water-springs on the bank supplying what we required for drinking.
Wandering about, I found some more empty huts, and some more
collections of bones. Observing that there were plenty of hares,
guinea-fowl, partridges, and duykerbocks about, I made up my mind
to remain in the place for a whole day, and had every reason to be
satisfied with my decision, for the weather was lovely, and the sport
so successful that by the next evening my scientific collection was
richer by a variety of bird-skins, snakes, insects, and crustaceans,
as well as by a considerable number of plants. The rest of the party
brought me back from their excursion some interesting birds, chiefly
bee-eaters, black and small grey shrikes, and plovers.

  [Illustration: EGYPTIAN GOOSE ON MIMOSA-TREE.]

The capture of a wild goose (_Chenalopex_), which I considered
a great prize, gave me a good deal of trouble. The hill where we
were stopping was at the western corner of the saltpan, the northern
and southern banks of which were bounded by other hills of the same
character; between us and the hill to the north was a valley by which
the rain descends from the upper plains; but so partial had been the
storm that had inundated us two days before, that here, at a distance
of hardly a dozen miles, no sign of water was to be traced. Every now
and then I heard the cackle which I recognized as that of the Egyptian
goose; but, although I had the advantage of a high position, I could
not succeed in getting sight of the bird at all. Persevering, however,
for a long time, at length I espied it perched on a bough of a withered
mimosa. My gun was loaded with only small shot, so that it was useless
for me to fire unless I could get very much closer; this required no
little caution, but by taking off my boots, and making my way barefoot
over the stony water-course, I succeeded in placing myself in a good
position behind some bushes. The goose continued sitting quite upright
upon the same branch, which I afterwards found nearly overhung its nest
at the bottom of the trunk. Finding myself within sixty yards, I took
my aim, and the handsome skin of my victim was soon on its way to my
rapidly-increasing collection.

To the saltpan I gave the name of “Chuai Jungmann,” or Jungmann’s
salt lake; its geological formation is similar to the Vaal-stone at
Bloemhof, consisting of blocks of greenstone of about three cubic feet.

After sundown we proceeded a little on our way, and spent the night
on an immense plain, which bore evident tokens of a long drought; the
ground was cracked, the herbage crumbled at a touch, and the fleeting
herds of springbocks raised great clouds of dust. The deficiency of
water made us put our best foot forward, and during the next day we got
over eighteen miles; there was no game to induce us to loiter on the
way, and we were only too glad to find a hollow full of water, where we
could halt for the night.

On the morning of the 1st of December we were surprised by a visit from
a Boer, who had settled in the neighbourhood. From him we ascertained
that we had now reached the western boundary of the Transvaal. He said
that he was anxiously waiting the arrival of President Burgers, who he
hoped would give him some relief from the annoyances to which he was
perpetually exposed on the part of the Barolongs.

Some of the white-thorned mimosas on the plain were in full bloom, and
covered with hundreds of small globular blossoms of a bright yellow
colour and pleasant fragrance. These shrubs sometimes grow eighteen
feet high; their flowers are tender and sensitive, often containing
many varieties of rose-beetles (_Cetonidæ_), and some Longicorns
marked with red bands. Amongst so many sorts of shrubs, I was surprised
to find that there were only two that seemed to be much resorted to by
insects; these had their branches often thickly coated with the larvæ,
more than an inch long, of the great cicada, of which the sonorous
chirping could be heard on all sides. At our approach the insects would
rise with a loud buzz, and settle again upon some adjacent mimosa with
a shock that could be truly said to be audible. Brilliant leaf-beetles
were also to be seen, and great steel-blue wasps were hovering round
the bushes, catching flies; whilst numbers of humble-bees buzzed about
in their busy fashion, collecting food for themselves and their broods,
that were quartered in the forsaken ant-hills.

The South African spring-time had now settled with all its glory on
these districts of the Upper Molapo, and all the inferior animals
seemed roused to new life and vigour beneath its influence; to them
its beneficent breath imparted fresh animation and enjoyment; to the
unreasoning offspring of nature it seemed to be the herald of peace
and pleasure; only amongst men, the lords of creation, did its return
revive thoughts of discord, fire, and deeds of blood.

A short drive on the morning of the 2nd brought us to the village of
the Makuba, on the southern or left shore of the Molapo,[7] belonging
to Molema’s Town. For the first fifteen miles of the river-course the
valley is very narrow and enclosed by steep cliffs, but further on,
where the plateau slopes to the west, it becomes much flatter. Here it
was that we had to cross it, and we made our halt on the right-hand
bank, near some wartebichi mimosas. Towards sunset we saw Molema’s Town
lying in front of us on a moderate slope, with woods in the background;
on its eastern side the town is bounded by two interesting rocky
heights, and between one of these and the stream stands the commodious
Mission-house, built in the native style, belonging to the Wesleyan
Missionary Society.

The little river is not more than six or seven yards wide, but the
rocks and the numerous acacias and willows that adorn the hillside in
the spaces between the farms, combine to make the position of Molema’s
Town one of the most pleasing of all the native settlements of Central
South Africa. The farmsteads are all detached, and all provided
with enclosures, within which the pointed roofs, overgrown with
calabash-gourds, are quite picturesque.

The many waggons about the place were the index of a thriving
population, a circumstance to be attributed very much to the fact that
King Montsua has prohibited the sale of brandy in the country, an order
which Molema, the governor, or sub-chief of the town, has strenuously
enforced. Another source of prosperity has been the introduction of
European cereals by former missionaries.

Molema, it may be mentioned by the way, is a Christian and a preacher.
It pleased me very much to find that he has forbidden the felling of
any trees in the precincts of the town; and we had scarcely made our
encampment when a native, as the representative of the police-court,
came to apprise us of the rule, at the same time offering to assign us
adequate pasturage for our cattle.

I was contemplating calling on Mr. Webb, the missionary; but before
I had positively made up my mind, a fair stout man leading a little
girl by the hand came out of the Mission-house towards me, and,
as I anticipated, introduced himself to me. We engaged in a long
conversation, and he gave me much information about the locality. He
told me that Montsua was now residing at Moshaneng, a town in the
province of his royal ally Khatsisive, the ruler of the Banquaketse. He
was resolved, however, to settle in Poolfontein, where the Transvaal
Government (probably for the purpose of forestalling the independent
Barolong chiefs) had placed its Barolong subjects. This was a great
annoyance to Montsua, and the real motive of his desire to leave
Moshaneng, and to build himself a new residence elsewhere.[8]

The Mission-house was furnished with the barest necessities, as, in
the extremely unsettled state of affairs, Mr. Webb considered his
residence likely to be only temporary; moreover, Molema, being himself
a preacher, was by no means well disposed to white missionaries at all.
Both Mr. Webb and his wife, who appeared to be an energetic helper
in his labours, advised me to make my way as quickly as possible to
Moshaneng.

Mr. Webb now went to inform Molema of my arrival, and brought him back
with him to the Mission-house. Molema was an old man, suffering from
asthma. He expressed himself very delighted to see me, and said that
he had not seen a Nyaka (doctor) since Nyaka Livingstone. He was very
anxious that I should give him a molemo (a dose) that would relieve
him of his troublesome cough, and enable him to breathe more freely;
inviting me to go and see him on the following morning, he promised
that if I would stay for a few days he would make me a present of a fat
sheep.

  [Illustration: DISPENSING DRUGS IN THE OPEN.]

In an excursion that I made up the country, I observed that wherever
there was a stratum of mould, it never failed to be sown with kaffir
corn. I noticed a good many specimens of tropical vegetation, the first
I had seen since leaving Grahamstown; but, on the other hand, I saw a
large number of plants distinctively belonging to the temperate zones,
such as _Campanula_, _Saponaria_, _Veronica_, and some umbelliferous
_Euphorbiaceæ_; out on the plains the grass stood four feet high. I
shot a heron and several finches, including two fire-finches; also two
spurred plovers, which probably I should not have noticed but for their
peculiar cry of “tick-tick.” The women who were working in the fields
were much cleaner than the Batlapins; and after I left Molema’s Town I
was satisfied that these northern Barolongs, as they are called, are
altogether of a higher grade not only than the Batlapins, but than
the Mokalana, Marokana, or south-western Barolongs; in agriculture,
however, and especially in cattle-breeding, they are far surpassed by
the south-eastern Barolongs, who reside in and about Thaba Unshu, which
contains over 10,000 inhabitants, the people living to a large extent
upon their horse-breeding, which cannot be successfully carried on
either in the Molapo district or in the Transvaal, on account of the
horse-plague.

I did not omit next day to pay my visit to Molema. The chief received
me in his little courtyard, and after introducing me to his wife and
sons, whose apartments were close at hand, sent for some wooden stools
for myself and Mr. Webb, who accompanied me. When we were seated,
he begged me to give him the latest news from Cape Colony and the
diamond-fields; he made inquiries about the proceedings of the English
Government in the south, complained bitterly of the encroachments of
the Boers in the east, and wound up by asking me whether I was an
Englishman or a Boer. When Mr. Webb tried to explain to him that I
was a Bohemian, he looked completely mystified; and having asked me
my name, he made some old Barolongs who were sitting in the courtyard
repeat both my name and my country over and over again, until the two
words were sufficiently impressed upon his memory. Before I left I made
him a promise that I would never return to his country without paying
him a visit, and he assured me that I should always find a welcome.

Before I left Mr. Webb gave me two letters of introduction, one to Mr.
Martin, a merchant residing in Moshaneng, the other to Montsua, which
Mr. Martin would read and interpret to him.

On the 5th we started off northwards towards the foot of a wooded
hill. Without deviating far from our proper route I had many
opportunities of adding to my entomological collection; amongst other
coleoptera I secured a large and handsome tortoise-beetle that I had
never seen before, having its wing-sheaths dotted with greenish-gold
and brown spots; its habitat apparently was on one of the commonest
South African nightshades. The nest of the sociable weaver-birds
(_Philetærus socius_) did not fail also to attract my attention,
abounding as they did in the camel-acacias along the way.

  [Illustration: NEST OF WEAVER-BIRDS.]

The day’s march was brought to a close in a depression near a brook
flowing north-eastwards towards the Taung or Notuany River; and next
morning, after making our way through a regular underwood of acacias,
we came to a Makalahari village, the population of which was composed
almost exclusively of Montsua’s shepherds and hunters. They gave
us a most discouraging description of the road to Moshaneng, and
declared it all but impossible for us to accomplish the journey to
the royal residence with oxen so weak as ours. The road was indeed
in a deplorable condition; the sand was very deep, and sorely tried
the strength of our poor animals; the woods were full of holes a foot
or more in depth, that had been rain-pools in the rainy season, and,
besides this, the dust rose in clouds from the sand-drifts, parching
our mouths and throats, and making our faces smart considerably.

In one of the smaller hollows now overgrown with grass, I found
hundreds of a glistening blue Litta, marked with a rusty red spot,
a species which I never met with but once again when I was on my
subsequent journey in some woods not unlike these, about fifteen miles
to the north of Shesheke. I also shot a buzzard of the kind known as
the honey-buzzard (_Pernis apivorus_) that was hovering over me.

The state of the road next day showed no improvement; and when we came
to two salt-pans, nearly dry, where the sand was some fourteen inches
deep, we almost despaired of getting across, but by the aid of various
expedients, and by the exercise of much perseverance, we managed to
reach the opposite side, where we halted to enjoy the rest that we felt
both man and beast had so hardly earned. In the woods we found two
kinds of edible berries, one of which was the brownish-red fruit of the
bluebush, used for shot, the other being a yellow berry something like
our currant, called wild pomegranate by the Boers, and “geip” by the
Korannas, by whom it is greatly relished.

On our way we saw in the distance a ridge of hills running transverse
to our path, which some Barolongs that we met told us were Malau’s
heights; to the highest summit, which did not appear hitherto to have
had any special distinction, I gave the name of Huss Hill. Reaching the
saddle of the ridge we camped amongst some groups of shrubs overgrown
with bryony, cucurbitæ, and other creepers. In some spreading acacias
we observed shrikes, both long-tailed and black-and-white; large
turtle-doves, too, seemed by no means rare, and for the first time I
heard a note which I fancied must proceed from a _Psittacus_.
Following the sound I was gratified by seeing a pair of the small grey
parrots (_Psittacus Ruppelii_) with green breasts, and yellow
spots on the head and wings. They are found beyond the Zambesi, and
live in pairs in hollow trees.

As we went on we had alternately to descend steepish valleys, and to
climb stony hills. Again we had to experience a lack of water; for
ourselves, indeed, we were fortunate in being able to get some milk
from a few Barolong people we chanced to see, but the deficiency was
sadly felt by our poor panting bullocks.

Arriving at a wide valley running north by east, under the last spur
of Malau’s heights, we were relieved by the springing up of a cool
breeze, which seemed to prognosticate rain. Our anticipations in
this matter were not disappointed, and, before we had toiled on much
farther, a refreshing shower came down, allowing us to fill all our
vessels, and the bullocks to quench their thirst.

  [Illustration: COLLECTING RAIN-WATER.]

It had been my intention to push on so as to reach Moshaneng that day;
but, coming to a valley where the pools were full of rain-water, and
which looked very pleasantly sheltered, we were induced to stay there
for the night, although it was about four miles short of the town.

  [Illustration: A REFRESHING DRAUGHT.]

  [Illustration: ROYAL VISITORS.]

In the woods were some fine trees, known amongst the Boers as beech,
as well as a shrub erroneously called wild syringa. There were also
wild olives and karee trees, mohatla and marethwa bushes; some shrubs
with winged seed-vessels, like the maple, several kinds of mimosas
(_Acacia detinens_, _Acacia giraffa_, _Acacia horrida_),
and, on the hills, some aloes, that differed from those which I had
seen further south. I shot a great grey lory, that from its cry is
called the “go-away” by the English, whilst by the Boers it is known as
the “grote Mausevogel.” It builds right at the top of trees, whence it
peers about at anything that excites its curiosity; whenever it utters
its frightful cry its crest stands perfectly erect. I likewise brought
down a brown fork-tailed kite, and two yellow-beaked hornbills. On the
11th I made some short, but not unsuccessful, excursions, and secured,
amongst other booty, some parrots, six lories, some widow-birds,
hornbills, two sorts of cuckoos, a small red-and-green woodpecker with
a red crest, and some shrikes.

We had now come about seventy miles from Molema’s Town, having, about
half way, entered upon the territory of the Banquaketse, in latitude
25° 10’ south. In the course of the afternoon we were honoured by a
visit from some of the magnates from Moshaneng. A covered two-wheeled
waggon, drawn by four horses, was seen skirting the wood, and making
straight towards us. Our black man, Stephan, went to the horses’ heads,
whilst the occupants, four natives, alighted. The first to step out
was a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who introduced himself as
Mobili, the son of a Bechuana chief. He had known my friend F. in
Kimberley, where his English education and knowledge of the language
had for a time procured him an appointment as interpreter in the Courts
of Justice. He was now, however, living as a South African gentleman,
and was on a round of visits to several Bechuana chiefs. He had come
from the king of the Bakuenas only a few days previously. Having shaken
hands with F., he proceeded to introduce the three others. “These,” he
said, “are two of the most distinguished Bechuana kings. Montsua, king
of the Barolongs, a wealthy and powerful tribe, and Khatsisive, king
of the Banquaketse; and this,” he added, pointing to the third, “is
Khatsisive’s Prime Minister, Chancellor of the Banquaketse kingdom.”

Montsua, a plump, jovial-looking man, of about fifty, inspired me with
confidence immediately. Khatsisive, who was tall and scraggy, looked,
as did also his Chancellor, as if he knew how to suit his furrowed
countenance to circumstances. They were all in European costume,
Khatsisive wearing a long overcoat and chimney-pot hat, while his
Minister sported a “Menschikoff.”

Mobili and Pit acted as interpreters, and during the conversation that
ensued we were closely scrutinized by our visitors. Montsua assured
me that I was very welcome to the neighbourhood of his residence at
Moshaneng, explaining that he was not now living on his own territory,
but on that of Khatsisive, his friend and ally, having quitted the
Molapo some time since on account of the oppression of the Boers. He
was so weary of the annoyances he suffered, that he had thoroughly made
up his mind to leave Moshaneng, and to establish himself either at
Poolfontein or on the Lothlakane, where he should be pleased if at any
time I would pay him a visit.

I was very closely interrogated as to the object of my journey. In
reply I exhibited some bird-skins, which were regarded with some
astonishment. Mobili interpreted my explanation of the process by
which the skins were preserved; but the way in which the king kept
shaking his head implied that it all surpassed his comprehension;
and when I advised him to be careful in handling them, as there was
some poison used in preparing the plumage, he uttered a low cry of
alarm, and instantly dropped the specimen he had in his hand. Mobili
had translated my word “poison” by the words “molemo maschive” (i. e.
bad medicine), which startled the king, as there is nothing of which
the Bechuanas live in greater dread than subtle poison, even applying
the name to medicines that fail to effect a remedy. Montsua and his
companions were certainly a good deal disconcerted by my communication,
for they turned up their coat-sleeves and began vigourously rubbing
their fingers against the sand on the ground. They were very glad
to avail themselves of the soap and water and towel, for which I
immediately sent; but nothing seemed to make them quite comfortable,
notwithstanding my assurance that the poison could have no injurious
effect upon the human skin.

After shaking hands with us all round, and bestowing a friendly nod
upon the servants, the two rulers over many hundreds of square miles
remounted their waggon and prepared to start. Mobili had just taken
the reins when King Montsua laid his left hand upon his shoulder, and
with his right beckoned to me. As soon as I approached he made Mobili
ask me what I had done with the “rumela,” the letter of introduction
that I had brought for him from Mr. Webb. I fetched the letter at once,
as well as the other addressed to Mr. Martin, which I asked might be
delivered for me; at the same time I expressed my surprise that the
existence of the letters should already be known at Moshaneng.

Montsua laughed, and said,--

“I knew all about the letters three days ago. While you were asleep
two Barolongs came over from Molema’s Town; from them I heard of your
arrival, and of the good effect your molemo had had upon Molema.”

On the afternoon of the 14th, I completed my journey to Moshaneng, the
way lying through cultivated country, bounded on the east by an open
plain, on the west by rocks, and on the south by wooded heights, which
were the northern chain of Malau’s ridge, overlooking the town.

Malau’s ridge may be considered as the south-central portion of the
Banquaketse heights, which are connected by the Lekhutsa and Makarupa
hills with the western mountain groups in central South Africa.[9]




                              CHAPTER IX.

                     FROM MOSHANENG TO MOLOPOLOLE.

   King Montsua and Christianity--Royal gifts--The Banquaketse
   highlands--Signs of tropical vegetation--Hyæna-dogs--Ruins of
   Mosilili’s Town--Rock-rabbits--A thari--Molopolole.


The southern part of Moshaneng belonged to Molema and his Barolongs,
and (excepting the ruined church and Mr. Martin’s house) contained no
buildings in the European style of architecture. The native huts were
all of pure Bechuana construction, and owing to the limited space,
were packed very closely together, although in the Baharutse quarter,
separated by a valley and a stream, the farmsteads were much less
crowded. I should estimate the population of the entire town to be
about 7000; but out of this number nearly 1000 would be fluctuating,
many of the inhabitants working occasionally for lengthened periods at
the diamond-fields, or cultivating land at a distance.

The king’s residence stood in the western part near the river-bank,
and was surrounded by a courtyard containing two huts apiece for his
five wives.

Here, as with not a few of the Bechuana tribes where Christian
missionaries have begun to labour, a good proportion of the young
people have professed to embrace the new doctrines, while the elders
have clung to their heathen institutions. It soon became evident to
Montsua that, although circumcision was not uniformly discarded, the
young men and young women were reluctant to take part in the accustomed
marriage orgies, and that many of the established festivities were
very thinly attended. Amongst these ancient ceremonials was a dance
known as the reed-dance, performed through the towns by a number of
men in procession, blowing with such vehemence upon reed-pipes, that
nearly always one or more of them would either drop down dead during
the progress, or would subsequently die from the acute emphysema of the
lungs brought on by the exertion. With reference to this time-honoured
performance, Montsua gave notice that he should only undertake not to
interfere with the “bathu ba lehuku,”[10] on condition that they all
joined in it as heretofore. The dance was ordered by authority, but the
converts, instigated by Molema, Montsua’s own brother, refused to obey
the king’s injunction. Molema was himself urged on by Yan, the present
black Barolong Christian preacher.

Baffled on this occasion, by the advice of his rain-doctor Montsua
next required that the followers of the new faith should take parts in
two ceremonies connected with rain-magic; first, in the letshulo-hunt
appointed by the rain-doctors for the capture of certain wild animals,
parts of which were employed in the incantations; and, secondly, in
turning up a plot of ground for the service of the doctors, which was
afterwards considered consecrated, and called “tsimo ea pulta,” the
garden of the rain. To both these demands the converts again resolutely
refused to submit, giving the king to understand that while they were
ready to submit to any other proof of their loyalty, since they had
become “bathu ba lehuku” their consciences would not allow them to
participate in the idolatrous usages of their forefathers.

  [Illustration: BAROLONG WOMEN AT MOSHANENG.]

Again thwarted, the king was driven to devise some other measures for
bringing the recusants to obedience; the constitutional form of his
government, and the large numbers of the adherents of the new creed
both making it difficult to bring the offenders to justice. He soon
tried another scheme. On the following Saturday, when both Molema and
Yan had gone away into the country, he issued an order, and caused it
to be circulated through the town, that no person would be allowed to
attend the church on the next day. The women took up the matter; aware
that Christianity raised them to an equality with their husbands, they
came to the unanimous decision that no notice was to be taken of the
king’s order. Accordingly, Sunday came, and at the hour of service not
a member of the congregation was absent from his usual place. The king,
perhaps, might have heard the singing from his own house; or perhaps
there were plenty to inform him what was going on; at any rate, he got
into a towering passion, and, seizing a long knife, rushed off to the
church, which he entered just as one of the men, in Molema’s absence,
was delivering a prayer of thanksgiving. His appearance naturally
caused no little commotion amongst the worshippers, and in the midst
of the excitement, he bellowed out a peremptory order that they should
all disperse. One of the women calmly confronted him, and said that the
“bathu ba lehuku” must finish their service first. Enraged at the open
defiance of his authority, and incensed by the temerity of the woman,
he made such vehement and indiscriminate thrusts with his formidable
weapon, that he quite succeeded in clearing the building.

Amongst the converts were one of his own daughters and her husband;
at first he simply forbade her to leave her own house, but when he
ascertained that she was visited there by one of the new community,
who joined in hymns and prayers with her, he took her away from her
husband, brought her back to his own residence, and obliged her to
revert to the heathen custom of wearing nothing but a leather apron.

In course of time, however, as Montsua found that his opposition
was of no avail, and discovered, moreover, that the converts not
only remained just as faithful subjects as before, but were the most
industrious and the most thriving of all his population, he grew weary
of his persecution, and subsequently, when he and Molema separated,
although he did not himself embrace the new faith, he so far favoured
the cause of Christianity as to direct Yan, the Barolong, to continue
preaching amongst the surrounding people, and to permit Molema to do
the same in his town on the Molapo.[11]

In acknowledgment of some trifling medical services that I had rendered
to himself and his household, Montsua presented me with 1_l._,
and with some beautiful ostrich feathers, four black and four white,
which he said were for my wife; he looked very incredulous when I told
him that I did not possess a wife, and observed that I could keep the
feathers until I had one. Besides this, his gratitude was so great that
in return for my Snider-rifle he let me have five strong bullocks.
By the assistance of Mr. Martin, and another resident merchant, I
procured five more, so that with what I retained of my own, I had the
satisfactory prospect of continuing my journey with a good team of
fourteen.

My stay in Moshaneng was advantageous both to my ethnographical and
entomological collections. I obtained a number of curiosities in
the way of costumes, kiris, and other weapons, sticks branded with
ornamental devices, water-vessels made from ostrich-eggs, wooden spoons
and platters, and snuff-boxes made of gourd-shells or horn. One way
or another, too, including duplicates, I collected as many as 350
insects, amongst which were a new cerambyx, another of the same family
with black and yellow bands, and one copper-coloured and two green
scarabæidæ. The dry mimosa-hedges seemed to be the favourite resort of
two handsome kinds of Longicorn beetles.

When, on the morning of the 18th, I prepared to start, all the great
people of Moshaneng turned out to bid me farewell; Montsua and Mr.
Martin each bringing me another beautiful white feather. The king
insisted on shaking hands with me over and over again, and as the last
proof of his regard offered to lend me a guide as far as Molopolole,
the residence of the king of the Bakuenas; although the man did not
look very strong, I thought it more graceful to accept the offer.

After leaving the town, we turned first north-west, then north,
crossing two rivers, the second of which was named the Koluany; we then
came to a hilly country, the scenery of which, in beauty, resembled
the imposing Makalaka highlands in miniature. The table-land consisted
partly of bushwood, and partly of grass-land, interspersed here and
there with thinly-wooded districts, and with rocky eminences sometimes
eighty feet in height, composed of huge blocks of granite, generally
pyramidal in form. The soil near these rugged crags was usually moist,
and they were bordered with mimosas, and covered with rich vegetation,
amongst which small aloes with their pink and crimson blossoms,
stapelias with their dark velvet-like flowers, and cactus-like
euphorbiaceæ, with their wondrous shapes, shone pre-eminent, and
charmed the eye not only by their intrinsic beauty, but by the
profusion in which they grew in every cleft of weather-beaten rock,
here peeping out from some dark hollow, and there tightly wedged
between two blocks of stone. But no object on these rocky heights was
so striking as the sycamores that spread their light-grey roots, now
broad and flat, now thick and forked, like a network down the steep
sides of the cliff, their succulent stems rising from the crevices
frequently to eight or ten feet, and terminating in a crown of handsome
foliage. Wood-sorrels, ferns, mosses, and lichens of many kinds were
abundant, and I observed several new lepidoptera and beetles; amongst
the mammalia there were some small beasts of prey and a great many
rock-rabbits. Towards the west, the land sloped towards a brook that,
after rain, assumes the dimensions of a river; from Moshaneng it flows
north by west, then north-west, and finally due north, when it joins
the Molapo. The declivity is steep, and the upper part wooded, and is
known to be the resort of _Hyæna brunnea_ and _punctata_, as
well as of the caracal and leopard.

  [Illustration: HYÆNAS AMONG THE CATTLE.]

But the extensive highlands are notoriously infested by large
numbers of that most dangerous of all the South African beasts of
prey, the _Canis pictus_, also called _Lycaon pictus_ or
_venaticus_, and ordinarily known as “the wild dog.” It is one of
the most rapacious and destructive animals on the face of the earth,
and is a deadly enemy to all kinds of cattle. Both Montsua and Mr.
Martin had warned me to be on my guard against their attacks. “Never
let your bullocks graze out at night,” were Montsua’s words to me, “and
never let them be unguarded even by day, if you expect to bring many
of them to Molopolole.” In size this dreaded animal is about as large
as a young wolf, only more slender, and in shape it is a cross between
the proteles and hyæna. Always hunting in herds, they are especially
dangerous; they attack the larger quadrupeds, oxen, elands, and
hartebeests, whilst their ravages amongst sheep, goats, and wild pigs
are still more destructive; they are not content with one victim, but
seize a second and a third, so that the devastation they make is really
frightful. They do not confine their visits to the native territory,
but make their way to cultivated lands on the border of the Transvaal.
They have their holes underground, and sometimes leave their quarters
in winter to range over wider districts, returning in the spring. When
they start on their raids, they hold their noses high in the air, and
if unsuccessful in discovering a scent, they divide into little groups,
and disperse in various directions with their noses down to the surface
of the ground. Having found the track of any wild or domestic animal,
except the horse, which is too swift for them, the entire pack, yelping
and baying, darts off upon the chase with such eager impetuosity, that
many of them fall into the bushes, or run foul of rocks and ant-hills.
Through being so small, they not unfrequently succeed in getting close
to cows or antelopes before they are observed; and whilst the cow may
be defending herself by her horns from the assailants in front, two or
three of the voracious brutes will be biting at her heels, and as many
more at her belly; finding defence hopeless, the unfortunate creature
will take to flight; this occasionally succeeds, and cows are from
time to time seen reaching their homes in the farmsteads with dreadful
wounds all over their bodies; but if they stumble or get seized by the
neck or nostrils, or bitten through their knees or in the stomach, so
that the bowels protrude, it is all over with them, and they die in the
most horrible agonies.

The 18th was spent in crossing the Banquaketse table-land. Everything
seemed blooming in the advancing summer, and I did not see a single
withered mimosa. Towards sundown we entered the valley of a sand-river,
now reduced to a mere rivulet, called the Mosupa, Masupa, or Moshupa;
it was said to join the Taung, an affluent of the Notuany. The
river-bed and its banks were partially strewn with gigantic blocks
of granite that lay in immense flats on the left-hand shore, their
upper surfaces being slightly hollowed, forming natural reservoirs. A
few hundred yards to the right the stream made a sudden turn to the
north-east, and just in the bend rose a fantastic crag connected with
two others of inferior height, and formed of huge masses of rock.

As we descended from the high ground towards the valley, some
luxuriant woodlands and shrubberies cut off any very distant view,
but made some graceful scenery. The setting sun, all aglow, was just
resting on the edge of the adjacent table-land, on the east of which
the Masupa held its course. As the gorgeous disk became concealed,
and a more equal light fell upon the scene, our eyes fell upon an
object which drew from us all an involuntary expression of surprise.
Had we been anywhere but in the heart of South Africa, we should have
concluded at once that we were looking upon some ancient churchyard;
what we really saw were the ruins of a town, enclosed by a low stone
wall, The guide whom Montsua had sent with us, in giving an account of
the place, said that until the last few years it had been occupied by
a branch of the Banquaketse, but that the son of the chief Mosilili,
named Pilani, who was a friend of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas,
had with a number of his dependents left his father’s town and
Khatsisive’s territory, and had settled in Sechele’s new district in
Molopolole; whereupon Mosilili, an old ally of Khatsisive’s, finding
his town half deserted, left the remainder of the residents in the
lurch, and took up his abode near Kanya.

During a stroll that I took along the river, I came across some very
pretty bits of scenery. The banks were high and thickly clothed with
vegetation; and in the stream the slippery boulders, piled one above
another, formed little cataracts and natural weirs that future settlers
might well utilize, either for turning mills or irrigating meadows. In
the thickets on the banks were flocks of horned guinea-fowl (_Numida
coronata_), and in muddy places I saw distinct traces of otters and
water-lizards.

At dinner-time we noticed on the overhanging rocks a number of
rock-rabbits, called “dossies” by the Boers. We started off for a
chase. These creatures are the smallest of all extant pachydermata,
and, on account of being so continually hunted by the natives, are very
shy. As long as we kept near the waggon, which was stationed at the
ruins, they remained passive enough, either squatting as they watched
us from the ledges of rock, or contentedly seeking roots in the bushes,
and figs on the sycamores; but no sooner did we approach the foot of
the crags, than they bounded away instantly into the nearest crevices.

Whilst Eberwald, F., and Stephan were shooting on the east hill, I
made my way to the west, and before long spied out a rock-rabbit
that seemed quite unsuspicious of my movements, and was crouching in
a melancholy attitude, as if oblivious of all the affairs of itself
and the rabbit-world in general. With much caution, and not without
many ludicrous tumbles, which caused a good deal of amusement to Pit,
who was with me, I scrambled on till I was just within range. Pit
wanted me to get nearer; but, assured that my opportunity was now or
never, I fired a charge of small shot straight upwards. My aim was
perfectly good; the rock-rabbit rolled on to the stem of a sycamore
that overhung the precipice, and fell perpendicularly several feet.
We made our way, out of breath, to the foot of the tree, but were
doomed to disappointment. Although the ground was all stained with the
fresh blood, the creature had disappeared; we searched every nook and
crevice, we investigated every corner, but were completely baffled in
finding the wounded rabbit.

  [Illustration: HUNTING THE ROCK-RABBIT.

    _Page 306._]

This _Hyrax capensis_, if it be not actually the same species
as the _Hyrax abyssinicus_, is certainly very closely allied
to it. It extends all over South Africa, from the south beyond the
Zambesi; it generally selects rocky heights for its habitat; and,
having once settled, it is extremely tenacious of its abode, not
deserting it even though a farm or a village be established below. It
is peculiar in its disposition, having all the appearance of being
meditative, as though carefully weighing its movements before action,
but withal of a savage and snarling nature. In size it is rather
larger than a common rabbit; it has short ears and bright little eyes.
Its fur, which is much sought after by the natives, is of a dark
yellowish-brown tint. The flesh is eaten both by white men and natives;
and many of the tribes, such as the Makalakas, make use of sticks
armed with nails, with which they drag the animals out of their holes.
Besides being hunted by men, it is preyed upon by the caracal, by the
southern lynx (_Lynx pardinus_), and by the brown eagle. In spite,
however, of all the persecution it suffers, it thrives wonderfully; and
nothing seems to put a check upon its propagation. The young ones are
often attacked by genets.

The cliffs that are steepest, and the crags that are the most rugged,
are the favourite resorts of the rock-rabbit. It is not unfrequently
found with a little hare, but this resides, ordinarily, more on the
surface of the ground than in clefts of any depth. It loves warmth;
its chief business of life, after providing itself with food, appears
to be basking in the sun; and damp winters, rare though they are on
the table-land, and extreme cold, try it severely. In confinement, if
it be not allowed plenty of space for moving about, or if it be shut
up in any premises that are the least damp, it soon pines away; it is,
however, very frequently to be seen in dwelling-houses, tied up by a
piece of cord, which it does not attempt to gnaw. The price at which
one can be bought varies from two to five shillings.

There is another species of rock-rabbit, one of which, although I saw a
specimen, I was never able to procure. It has a foxy-red fur. I saw it
in one of the limestone-funnels in the western Transvaal. Besides this,
there is a smaller grey sort, found in the wooded districts of the
southern part of Cape Colony, in Kaffraria, in Natal, and still further
north. Of this I have seen two examples. It is said to have a shrill
piping note, and to be very wild, but better able to endure damp than
its brother of the woods.

As soon as we had all gathered together again after our little
ramble, we made another start. Our road took us across several sandy
river-beds, as well as over a great number of rain-trenches, the
edges of which were overgrown with fine verdant mimosas. Near one
of the trenches, our guide drew our attention to numerous hyæna and
leopard-tracks, a hint to be upon our guard, which we did not neglect.

  [Illustration: THE AFRICAN LYNX.

    _Page 309._]

And not without reason. Our bullocks had with much difficulty just
effected the passage of the Shutani stream, when the dogs gave tongue
furiously, and Stephan screamed out, “Bas, has! pass up, een chut lup
nack ye tu!”[12]

In a moment our attention was fixed upon the direction whence came the
sound of an angry barking; another instant and a creature, yellowish
in colour, with dark spots, bounded in front of the waggon; a moment
more, and it had dashed down the slope. It was a southern lynx, known
to the natives as a “thari.” It looked so small, and the dogs, with
Onkel at their head, were so close upon its track, that we did not wait
to fetch our guns, but joined helter-skelter in the chase, rushing
headlong over bushes, rocks, and every obstacle. We had not, however,
a very long run; the dogs suddenly came to a halt at a mass of stone
deeply embedded in the ground, where a rift about sixteen inches wide
formed the entrance to a hole; the dogs stood before the gap and barked
vehemently; the thari could be heard spitting savagely out of reach.

We could not spare the time to hunt out the lynx from its retreat, and
with great reluctance were obliged to return to the waggon. At night,
when we made our camp, I enjoined my people to keep the best look-out
they could, and as an additional protection against leopards, I ordered
several large fires to be lighted.

It was through thick and leafy underwood that we proceeded on our next
day’s journey. We met two women, whose necks and breasts were covered
with many strings of beads, their arms and thighs being encircled
with rings about as thick as one’s finger, formed also of tiny beads;
they were walking, followed by a boy, who was driving a bullock laden
with their baggage. By crossing the Koluany we had entered upon the
territory of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas, who, with the exception
of the two Bamangwato chiefs, owns more land than any of the Bechuana
rulers.

Having made the transit of a little stream called the Malili, the bed
of which was partly stony and partly sandy, we had to ascend through a
forest where the sand was very deep; when we reached the top we could
discern a chain of hills in the north, which seemed to be wooded. They
were the central portion of the Bakuena heights, and on coming nearer
we found that they were joined by another ridge of hills, high up on
one of which was a white speck, like a white-washed European building.
Our guide informed us that it belonged to Molopolole, Sechele’s
residence. In order to reach the town, which was built on the slope of
the range, we had to pass through a wide valley, the bottom of which
was occupied by some meagre, ill-cultivated fields.

In the evening we made our camp about the middle of the valley,
on a grass plot intersected by the bed of a brook, and near three
native villages lying at the foot of a hill. About 300 yards to the
east were the heights surrounding Sechele’s villa, which was built
several hundred feet above the level of the brook, and at the end of
a shallow pass winding up the hills to the north. In close proximity
to the villa, which was sheltered by a small rocky eminence, were
the offices belonging to the royal household, the kotla, or enclosed
conference-hall of the Bakuenas, and the residences of some traders,
who were making a temporary stay in the place. Down below, on the edge
of the valley, was a native village, also a portion of Molopolole;
whilst a third part lay at the foot of the isolated southern ridge that
was separated from the extensive northern and eastern chain by a long
narrow pass called Kobuque by the natives. At the base of the northern
hills, near a part that is fallen into ruins, there was yet another
quarter of the town; this was not in the valley, but just outside,
adjoining the fields that extended to the south-south-west. A second
pass, the rocky entrance of which was called Molopolole, and gave its
name to the town, ran from the valley in a northerly direction, and
formed the course of the brook that descended from the Bakuena heights.
Just where this pass joined the valley stood the mission buildings and
the school, the chapel being situated in the upper portion of the town.




                              CHAPTER X.

                     FROM MOLOPOLOLE TO SHOSHONG.

   Picturesque situation of Molopolole--Sechele’s
   territory--Bakuena architecture--Excursion up the
   glen--The missionaries--Kotlas--My reception by
   Sechele--A young prince--Environs of Molopolole--Manners
   and customs of the Bechuanas--Religious
   ceremonies--Linyakas--Medical-practice--Amulets--Moloi--The
   exorcising of Khame--Rain-doctors--Departure from Molopolole--A
   painful march--Want of water--The Barwas and Masarwas--Their
   superstition and mode of hunting--New Year’s Day in the
   wilderness--Lost in the woods--Saved by a Masarwa--Wild
   honey--The Bamangwato highlands--Arrival at Shoshong.


  [Illustration: WHITE-ANT HILLS.]

Viewed from the grassy valley in which we were standing, Molopolole
appeared undeniably the most picturesque of all the Bechuana towns.
Around us were the rocky heights, most of them absolutely perpendicular
in their upper parts, the lower half being formed of huge masses of
rock, thickly wooded on the less abrupt declivities, and occasionally
adorned with some giant aloe; on our right, overhanging the pass, was
the Molopolole rock, with its interesting geological formation, and
between us and the mouth of the defile were fine trees shading the
mission buildings and their little gardens with their tropical growth
of bananas and sugar-canes; in front of us, at the base of a steep
cliff on the east, was one native village, and at the foot of a wooded
eminence to the west lay another, in which was the spacious store of
Messrs. Taylor, which, next to that of Francis and Grant, is the most
important in the whole Bechuana country; between the villages the eye
rested upon the rocky pass known as the Kobuque, and high above the
more easterly of the two stood the portion of the town occupied by
the royal residence, and the abodes of the upper class of the tribe.
Turning to the north and west, we could see the part of the town that
lay at the foot of the northern ridge, whilst outside the valley were
the red ruins of a deserted village, and beyond that again the open
plain, bounded on the south and south-west by the dark verdure of the
woods that we had just traversed. Nothing was more striking in the
entire scene than some enormous ant-hills standing at the edge of the
brook at the foot of the hills on the north; the principal pyramid was
as much as nine feet and a half in height, and, including some smaller
ones at the side, occupied an area forty feet in circumference.

But greatly as the scenery of Molopolole is to be admired, a like
measure of approval cannot be bestowed either on the agricultural
industry of its population, or on their style of architecture;
nevertheless, their ruler deserves some credit for his prudent choice
of this natural stronghold for his residence.

Sechele, the present king, to whom Livingstone has devoted more than
one chapter of his “Travels,” and of whom I have some few further
particulars to relate, formerly resided with his Bakuenas to the
south-east of Molopolole, near the spot where we now find the town
of the Manupi. His tribe had become considerably reduced in numbers,
through its wars and skirmishes with the surrounding people. Nothing
but ruins now marks the site of his former home, which was near the
Transvaal frontier, and called Kolobeng. Here it was that, in 1842, he
was visited by the Nestor of African travellers.

Driven from Kolobeng by the Boers, Sechele next settled in Liteyana;
but, in 1865, he migrated about ten miles eastward to Molopolole, where
already there was a settlement established, and where he was joined
by Pilani from Masupa. His territory, which is the most northerly of
the four Bechuana kingdoms that I have mentioned, is bounded on the
west by the great Namaqualand; on the north by the eastern and western
Bamangwato; on the east by the Limpopo and Marico on the Transvaal
frontier; and on the south by the country of the Banquaketse. The
southern frontier lies under lat. 24° 10´ S., and runs down past
Kolobeng, in a south-east direction, as far as the Dwars Mountains
and the Great Marico; the northern frontier, on the side of the two
Bamangwato kingdoms, is in lat. 23° 30´ S., and partly follows the
course of the Sirorume River. I should estimate the number of Sechele’s
actual subjects to be about 35,000, whilst the Batlokas, Bakhatlas,
and Makhosi that reside in the country, but are not tributary to
him, amount to 18,000 or 20,000 more. The entire population of
Banquaketseland is nearly 30,000; the subjects of Montsua, the
Barolong king, muster 35,000; whilst the smaller Barolong tribes
that reside further in the neighbourhood of such towns as Marokana,
and do not pay tribute to Montsua, may be estimated at 30,000 more.
Mankuruane, the Batlapin king, has more than 30,000 people under his
dominion; and in the little Mamusa kingdom there are now scarcely 8000
inhabitants, although a few years ago there were at least 10,000 in the
neighbourhood of Mamusa Town alone.

On the evening of the 21st, our encampment in the Molopolole valley
was visited by an ill-clad Dutchman, who worked here as a smith, and by
two natives, who directed us where to find pasturage for our oxen. They
were soon followed by Mr. Price and Mr. Williams, the two missionaries,
who came to bid us welcome to the place. Mr. Williams has since
returned to Europe, and Mr. Price has been ordered by his society to
Central Africa. By his second marriage with Miss Moffat, this gentleman
became related to Dr. Livingstone.

I took two excursions next morning--one to the ruined town on the
west, and another up the glen that opened into the valley, by the
Molopolole Pass. Amongst the ruins I noticed some vaulted buildings,
constructed of reeds, twigs, and cement, similar to those which I had
seen in Mosilili’s Town on the Mosupa River. Turkish figs, and the
well-known South African datura, with its violet-coloured blossoms,
grew luxuriantly about the place.

The huts occupied by the Bakuenas, or Bakwenas, differed somewhat
from those of the Batlapins and Barolongs. They were generally less
substantially built, and in this respect were especially inferior to
the Barolong huts; most of them, however, had the clay enclosures which
are formed by the eastern Batlapins round their fire-places, but which
are dispensed with by those of the south and west. In the villages, I
found small meeting-rooms, or conference-halls, standing amongst the
homesteads; they consisted of a conical straw roof, supported on twenty
piles or more, the intervals between the piles being filled up half-way
by a substantial wall of rushes, ornamented with simple devices in
ochre.

My little expedition up the Molopolole glen well repaid me for the
trouble. I shot several fish, and by the help of my rod caught no less
than seven sheat-fish. Under the overhanging, almost perpendicular
cliff, that formed the left-hand side of the pass, was a deep place
that by means of dams, partly natural and partly artificial, was kept
perpetually full of water, which got dried up within the town. In arid
seasons, this was an excellent refuge for the fish, better even than
the smaller pools higher up the glen, which, being exposed to the
ravages of otters and lizards, did not allow the fish to be propagated
as rapidly as they otherwise would have been.

  [Illustration: KING SECHELE.]

Accepting an invitation from the missionaries, I paid them a visit,
and found that Mr. Price had a home that was furnished with much
comfort and considerable taste. It must, however, have been a great
difficulty for him to attain such an amount of domestic civilization.
He had been one of the two missionaries appointed to conduct the
mission into the country of the Makololos; their reverses, however, had
been so many, and their non-success so complete, that they had been
obliged to abandon their undertaking. His associate, Mr. Williams,
belonged, like himself and the other missionaries in Kuruman, Taung,
Kanya, and Shoshong, to the London Missionary Society; he had been
several years in South Africa, and was now building himself a house.
They offered to introduce me to the king. Accordingly, on the second
day after my arrival, we proceeded to mount the rocky heights on which,
like an eagle’s nest, stands the part of the town that is occupied by
Sechele and his retinue. Passing the unfinished house of Mr. Williams,
we had first to ascend a narrow section of the glen, at the end of
which stood the chapel built by Mr. Price, an unpretending edifice,
sixty feet long and twenty-one feet wide, with an aisle and a thatched
roof. Thence we passed on through the south-east quarter of the upper
portion of the town, and, before proceeding to the royal residence, had
to direct our steps to the kotla, to pay our respects to the king, who
had received formal notice of my arrival. By the “kotla,” I mean one of
the enclosures that I have described as erected in Bechuana villages
and towns for the purposes of conference and debate. On the side of
the enclosure facing the royal residence was an opening, capable of
being closed at pleasure by trunks of trees. Sitting on a bench near
this spot, the king, surrounded by his relatives, subordinates, and the
elders of his tribe, listens to the reports of his hunters, spies, and
messengers, receives the visits of ambassadors from other kings, who
are allowed to squat before him on the ground; and delivers all his
judgments, sometimes by his own word, and sometimes by the mouth of
one of his representatives. Not unfrequently there is a small wooden
hut close at hand within the enclosure, where a fire is kept burning,
providing a place of assembly in wet weather. The kotlas are sometimes
obliged to serve as forts; and such as are situated at the foot of
hills are protected on the side of attack by logs of extra size and
weight as a defence against missiles.

Sechele received us standing. He was a man considerably over fifty
years of age, stout, very tall, and with such a perpetual smile playing
on his face as to give me at once the impression that I was in the
presence of an utter hypocrite. This _primâ facie_ impression was
subsequently confirmed.

After acknowledging our salutations, Sechele turned to Mr. Price,
and begged him to tell me that my appearance pleased him more than
that of any white man he had ever seen. Mr. Price had hardly finished
interpreting what had been said, when, in turning towards the king
in astonishment at receiving so flattering a compliment from a man
whom I had never met before, I caught him winking his right eye at a
subordinate chief and his son with an expression that completely belied
his words. The facility with which, on perceiving my surprise, he
resumed his habitual smirk, proved that he had no inconsiderable amount
of self-possession.

He then invited me and the two missionaries to accompany him to his
house, and to take a cup of tea. It was only a few minutes’ walk to the
front of his residence, a new and trim-looking edifice. Close beside it
was the old house, now occupied by the king’s eldest son, and adjoining
it were the dwellings of the various other members of the royal family.
The new abode had just been erected by the firm of Messrs. Taylor at a
cost of 3000_l._, the money being raised by the sale of ostrich
feathers and oxen.

Sechele’s establishment is more luxurious than that of any other of the
Bechuana sovereigns, and he has quite adopted the European style of
living.

Before describing our reception I may say a few words about Sechele
himself.

Although he was the first of the six Bechuana kings to profess
himself a Christian, he has the reputation of standing lower in moral
character than any of them, whilst his northerly neighbour, Khame, the
present king of the Eastern Bamangwatos is ranked highest, our good
friend Montsua being assigned the second place. Sechele is a thorough
intriguer, double-faced, and evidently a firm believer in the maxim
that “the end justifies the means.”

The name of his tribe, the Bakuenas, is derived from two words, Ba or
Ma, and Kuena, or Kwena, signifying “crocodile-men,” i. e. the men
who dance the crocodile-dance, implying that although they do not
actually worship it, they regard the crocodile with a certain amount of
veneration. The king’s full title is Sechele M’Kwase Morena ea Bakuena.

Quite unprepared for our visit, the queen was reclining in the
courtyard, Bakuena fashion, on an oxhide; but as we entered she rose
to greet us, and conducted us to the house. She was a tall, muscular
woman, wearing a handkerchief bound round her head and fastened behind.
She had on a cotton gown, and a great woollen shawl. Her designation is
Ma-Sebele, the mother of Sebele, which was the name of her youngest son.

Whilst the queen went to order us some refreshments, Sechele handed
us into the reception-room, or, as he called it in broken English, the
drawing-room. It was furnished throughout in European style, the chairs
and couches being of walnut-wood, covered with red velvet. Nothing
pleased the king better than to exhibit the interior of his palace to
a white man, and the complacent grin that overspread his countenance,
as he ushered me through the apartments, evidently showed that he
considered that he was giving me a great treat. After requesting me
to be seated, he spread out his pocket-handkerchief, which he did not
appear to use for any other purpose, on the chair which he selected for
himself, and sat upon it. The queen, when she returned, seated herself
upon a wooden stool.

Sechele now proceeded to question me, through the missionaries as
interpreters, as to my own nationality, and the object of my journey.
It was the case with him, as with most Bechuanas, that the only white
men that he knew were Englishmen, whom he liked, and Boers, whom he
did not like; and he was manifestly surprised when he learned that I
belonged to neither of them. As soon as he thought he had got the word
“Austria” impressed upon his memory, he inquired upon what river I
resided, and whether I lived in a town or at a cattle-station, by which
he meant in the country. The name of Prague was another puzzle for
him, and his surprise was still further increased when he heard that
it was twenty times as large as Molopolole; his manner of expressing
himself being that “his heart was full of wonder at the greatness of
the village.”

Turning to his wife, he said,--

“He is a nyaka (a doctor); he is not an Englishman; he is not a Boer;
but--”

His memory had failed him, and he had to turn to the missionaries to be
prompted.

He caught the word Austrian, and, rising from his seat, stammered out,--

“O-o-stri-en!”

Then, looking round, he smiled as if he had accomplished a prodigious
feat.

At this moment a new comer appeared on the scene. A tall boy came in,
about fourteen years of age, dressed in a shirt, trousers, waistcoat,
and a red woollen cap. He shook hands with the missionaries, as old
acquaintances, and laughed at everything that was said, especially
when the queen introduced him to me as her “Tholing Beb (darling baby)
Sebele.” When he had been with us about half-an-hour he suddenly
recollected that he had come to say that tea was ready in the
dining-room.

Sechele immediately led the way; we followed him, the queen bringing up
the rear. We were all in great good-humour, particularly Tholing Beb
and myself, both of us looking forward to partaking (he for the second
time that day) of the cakes of the Makoa (white man), which I had not
tasted for the last two months. The young prince, however, was not
allowed to join us at the round table, but was made to stand aloof, and
do all the waiting, an office which he performed very fairly.

The dining-room table was handsome, and covered with a white cloth.
Tea was served in cups shaped like little bowls. The king swallowed at
least a quart. The sugar-basin, cream-jug, and the rest of the service
were placed upon a side-table; they were all of silver, being, as I
understood, a present from the merchants who made periodical visits to
Molopolole. The tea was good, and the cakes unexceptionable.

There was now a renewal of the conversation that had commenced in the
drawing-room, and I was catechised about the proceedings of the English
Government in the diamond-fields, and those of the Dutch Government in
Pretoria and Bloemfontein. The queen clearly had no interest in these
subjects, and gradually resumed the nap which had been interrupted
by our arrival. Sechele appeared a little vexed at her breach of
etiquette, and attempted to rouse her by some spasmodic coughs, which
became more violent at each repetition. Failing, however, to awaken her
from her slumber, which every moment grew more sonorous, he stealthily
gave her such pushes with his elephantine foot that I had the hardest
matter to keep from bursting out laughing.

Controlling myself as well as I could, I said, “Morena, when I was only
thirteen years old, I read your name in Nyaka Livingstone’s book. I
little thought that I should ever see you and speak to you: far more
surprising is it to me to find myself drinking tea in your palace.”

The king, although he still practised rain-magic, had become familiar
with some passages of Scripture, and said, with a sanctimonious air,
“His ways are past finding out.”

But while Mr. Williams had been interpreting what I said to him, he
had kept one eye fixed on his wife; and, observing to his disgust that
she was almost falling from her seat in her drowsiness, he only waited
until he thought I was not watching him, to give her such a tremendous
poke, that she had a narrow escape of knocking her cup off the table
with her forehead.

  [Illustration: RAIN-DOCTORS.]

I occupied all my spare time at Molopolole in exploring the
neighbourhood, and procured some good additions to my collection.
As zoological specimens, I obtained a very fine head of the _Oryx
capensis_ with long horns, a leopard skin, one of the _Gueparda
jubata_, and several of the Hyrax. I also procured a skin of the
_Viverra Zivetta_, which seems to be very rare, besides some of
the _Felis caligata_. Mr. Williams brought me the carcase of a
three-year-old caama-fox, that had on some previous occasion been
caught in a trap and lost one of its hind paws; it had now been caught
a second time, and more effectually. The Bakuena heights are the
habitat of the beautiful klipp-springer; and in the country north of
Molopolole, we for the first time came across elands and giraffes.

I was very much struck by the number of medium-sized birds of prey,
such as sparrow-hawks, falcons, buzzards, and kites. Mr. Williams had
killed as many of the kites as he could, on account of the depredations
they made amongst his wife’s poultry. A great variety of owls, white
owls, barn-owls, and small screech-owls likewise had their abode in
the cliffs, and in the crevices of the rocks there were many sorts
of mammalia and reptiles, snakes and lizards finding there a most
congenial home. Insects, such as lepidoptera and flies, abounded in
the luxuriant vegetation, and in the decaying trunks of trees. I also
made a large gathering of beetles, spiders, and centipedes. I may say,
without the least hesitation, that a student in almost any branch of
natural history could hardly fail to make a visit to the Bakuena hills
highly remunerative.

Here, just as on the Bamangwato heights, and other rocky ridges of the
high plateau of Central South Africa in connexion with the Marico or
Matabele mountain systems, we find either the steep, fissured slopes
of table-hills, or table-lands studded with conical and isolated
peaks. The ascent to this network of hills is effected by a wooded
and sandy plain with a scarcely perceptible rise, and the descent
is just as gradual to a shallow river-bed, beyond which rises again
another similar ridge of heights. The geological composition of these
highlands consists of granite, quartz-slate, trapdykes, veins of chalk,
and ferruginous sandy clay. The vegetation is characterized by some
gigantic aloes, which in places form regular groves.

In concluding my account of Molopolole, I may be allowed to introduce
a brief notice of some of the religious and social customs of the
Bechuanas generally. I obtained many details from the English
missionaries, Messrs. Mackenzie, Hephrun, Price, Williams, Brown, and
Webb; from the German missionary, Herr Jensen; and from several of the
better educated Bechuanas themselves; and in the course of my three
journeys into the interior, I was able to verify many particulars by my
own observation.

In the strict sense of the word the Bechuanas, that is to say, the
branches of that family in Central South Africa, cannot be said to
have any religion at all; nevertheless the circumstance, that upon
receiving their first instruction in Christianity, they at once applied
to the Unseen God the designation of “Morimo,” without attaching
any difference to the signification of the word, would lead to the
inference that in bygone times they had rendered homage to some
presumed divinity either visible or invisible. Another word, closely
allied to Morimo, and not unfrequently heard in the vocabulary of the
Bechuanas, is “Barimo,” by which they appear to signify the spirits
of the departed. But although they cannot be said to have any actual
religion, the mass of the population put a kind of faith in certain
ceremonies, which amongst other people professing polytheism would be
regarded as religious rites; they likewise avow a degree of veneration
for certain animals, inasmuch as they will not kill them, eat them, nor
use their skins. We find also that ceremonies such as these to which I
refer are performed and inculcated by persons educated and set apart
for the purpose, with the king, or if the king should be a Christian,
with the heathen next in rank to him, at their head; thus forming a
sort of society of priests, having a high priest, called nyaka or nyaga.

As long as the Bechuanas, though subdivided into several families,
were united under a single sceptre, the right of kingship was
hereditary in the Baharutse tribe; and subsequently the old royal
family retained the prerogative of performing what might be called the
sacerdotal part in the ceremonials. For a long while after the empire
was broken up, and the various tribes had branched off--one to the
north, others to the south, east, south-east, and south-west, forming
larger or smaller independent states of their own--the ancient royal
family was not only respected, but notwithstanding that their sovereign
control was limited to the small clan from which they originally
sprang, they still held the rank of high priests at all the great
superstitious rites, so that even members of other reigning families,
as well as the nyakas, would journey from the new states back to the
court of the Baharutse to see the ceremonials duly performed by their
former chief. Of late years, however, since the branch tribes have
developed into important states, and many of their chiefs have become
Christians, the custom has almost ceased; nevertheless the ancient
royal family is always held in high veneration by the whole of the
Bechuanas; and this, in spite of its members through mutual dissension
having lost every vestige of power, and residing either as subjects
of the Transvaal in and about the town of Linokana, or as subjects of
Khatsisive in the town of Moshaneng. The present chief of the eastern
Baharutse, and consequently the proper sovereign of the Bechuanas is a
young man named Pilani.

In the detached Bechuana kingdoms the sovereign institutes and
arranges the ceremonies; in districts where several tribes are united
under one rule, this responsibility devolves upon the leading chief.
The most important of the ceremonies is the formal partaking of the
first-fruits, mainly of the gourd; but, in addition to this, there
are the initiation into the healing art, the invocation of rain, and
the magical incantations. The partaking of the first-fruits must be
performed by the chief alone, in his capacity of head doctor and
magician; but in the other rites he is assisted by the linyakas or
priests, who also practise the arts of rain-making and magic, and who
are generally nyakas, having, in addition to their other attainments,
a certain superficial acquaintance with the medicinal properties of
plants.

Out of doors these linyakas are distinguished by a short mantle made
from the skin of the baboon (_Cynocephalus Babuin_), and their
homes are characterized by carpets made from the skins of the _Hyœna
crocata_ or _maculata_, on which they sit to receive audiences.
Many of them wear round their necks whole strings of the bones of
different mammals, birds, and reptiles, and all, without exception, are
provided with four little pegs, generally made of ivory, but sometimes
of horn, and branded over with figures, which are thrown like dice, and
used for the ostensible purpose of diagnosis; these pegs are called
“dolos,” and are occasionally carried by men who, though not actually
linyakas, have paid a sum of money to be instructed in their use.

The office of linyaka is hereditary, but young aspirants may obtain
admission into the order. Before entering upon the requisite course of
study, every candidate must present his teacher with a cow, or some
gift of equal value, or if he should happen to have gained some mali
(money) in the diamond-fields, he has to hand over a fee, which may
vary from 4_l._ to 7_l._ The first step in the course is to
dig up[13] the plants that are reputed to have medicinal virtues, and
for this purpose the student is taken through the woods and plains, and
made familiar not only with the plants themselves, but with the parts
of them that are to be employed, and with the times and seasons when
they ought to be gathered. The appropriate parts of the plants having
been steeped in water to form decoctions, or dried and pounded into
powders, are then, by the use of certain formularies, converted into
“medicines;” other formularies being repeated when the remedies are
administered, an operation which must of necessity be performed by the
doctor himself, and which ordinarily takes place in the presence of a
noisy crowd of lookers-on.

In disorders like typhus or dysentery, sudorifics are the remedy most
frequently exhibited. The patient is made to lie down in his best fur
jacket, or in a warm woollen shawl bought probably for the occasion,
and when the medicines have done their work, the nyaka reappears and
carries off the reeking garment, in order, as he says, to bury it,
sweat and all. The patient may be rejoiced at having the disorder
carried so effectually out of the house, but if, when convalescent,
he should happen to see the doctor’s wife parading the village in his
jackal-skin, or in the comfortable shawl, he would never venture to
hint at its restoration.

The latter portion of the course of study comprises the art of casting
the dolos. Besides being doctors, the linyakas are conjurers and
magicians, and accordingly have to teach their pupils how to procure,
use, and sell the amulets, which, bound round the forehead, or worn on
the neck, are supposed to secure protection from the malevolence of
enemies, from the attacks of disease, from the pursuit of wild beasts,
or from any injuries by gunshot. Such amulets are manufactured out of
the tarsus bones of certain small quadrupeds, the scales of pangolins,
the metatarsus bones and claws of several birds, the skins of snakes
and lizards, small tortoise-shells, or the bodies of large weevils.
None, however, of these are considered of more importance than the
dolos, with their variegated devices, strung together either singly
or mixed with beads on blades of grass, or hairs from the tail of the
giraffe. The principal use that is made of them is for purposes of
divination; they are brought into play to find out the whereabouts of
stolen goods, or the retreat of a fugitive, as well as to exorcise
obnoxious men and beasts; they are considered capable of charming away
an enemy, and of averting mischief, certain formulæ generally being
recited whenever they are employed.

Another department of the linyakas’ functions is to perform certain
public ceremonies for the common welfare, such as burying a couple
of antelopes’ horns on the paths leading to a town; placing pots on
stakes in a prominent part of a village; hanging baboon-skulls near
the entrance of a kotla; or setting the heads of some large beasts of
prey at the gate of a cattle-kraal, the design in each case being to
provide a charm against external attack. Occasionally, also, fields
are furnished with magic charms to ensure a fruitful harvest, or to
keep off locusts; the amulets which are employed for these public
purposes being always prepared with mysterious rites, and only the most
venerable of the linyakas being permitted to officiate. Amongst the
Marutse, on the Central Zambesi, human sacrifices have been made on
these occasions.

The public amulets are called “lipeku,” and there are some occasions in
which the laity are allowed to take part in their preparation. Such is
the case with the “khomo kho lipeku,” i. e. the dedication of the ox to
the lipeku. For this ceremony a bullock is selected that has never been
in harness; its eyelids are tightly sewn together with fine sinews;
it is then turned in again with the rest of the herd, and having been
watched for a while, is slaughtered; its blood is then boiled up with
other charms, and the mixture preserved in small gourd-vessels. In
times of war the king and his generals either smear themselves with the
compound, or hang little pots of it on various parts of their bodies.

But although the linyakas in general secure the veneration of the
people, there is a class of them that is feared and hated. Such of them
as have been known to act from revenge, or who have voluntarily done
any injury, or whose magic has proved unavailing, are called “moloi,”
or evil magicians, an epithet held so detestable that a Bechuana
cannot be more insulted than by having it applied to himself. A moloi
is considered more potent than a linyaka; it is believed that he can
control nature without the aid of any formal enchantment; that he can
clamber over rocks, and cross rivers without being heard; that fire
does not harm him; and that jackals cease howling at his approach.
Mothers often quiet their crying children by threatening them with the
moloi.

These evil magicians are credited with the desire of injuring the
crops. Sometimes a true linyaka of good repute may be employed by a
chief to inflict this injury on an enemy, but in that case the odium
would fall upon the chief, without at all affecting the position of the
linyaka.

The Bechuanas maintain that the moloi dig up corpses and kill new-born
infants, in order to apply certain portions of the bodies to their
incantations; but their most formidable charms are believed to be
prepared from large serpents and crocodiles, and from other animals
that are most difficult to capture. If any one has a grudge against his
neighbour he will betake himself to a moloi, under cover of darkness,
and pay him a fee for his services; whatever death the intended victim
may subsequently die is confidently attributed to the operation of
the magician; if he should die a natural death, he has been poisoned
by the subtle “molemo,” or if he falls on a hunting excursion, he has
assuredly been attacked by some beast that the moloi had enchanted.

  [Illustration: KHAME’S MAGIC.]

The accompanying illustration depicts a scene that occurred in
Shoshong, in 1866. King Sekhomo was so jealous of the exceeding
popularity of his son Khame, that he determined to kill him. For
this purpose he secretly engaged some moloi to go by night and enact
their deadliest enchantments in front of Khame’s house. Awakened by
the gleam of a fire just beyond his enclosure, Khame crept out and
stood quietly surveying the preparations. One of the performers of the
mysteries happening to look round, and catching the sight of Khame’s
face in the glare, gave a loud cry of surprise; this so startled his
companions that they took to their heels. The young man came forward,
smashed up all the magic apparatus, threw it as so much lumber on the
fire, which he stopped carefully to extinguish, and the next morning,
to the chagrin of the king and the discomfiture of the moloi, made his
appearance in the kotla as well and hearty as ever.

In conformity with the rest of their character, the moloi have a
singular antipathy to rain; they claim the ability to ward it off by
burning a fresh green bough, with a suitable incantation, and maintain
that they can frighten away the clouds by the mystic use of their guns.
In every possible way they lay themselves out to thwart the proceedings
of the recognized rain-doctors.

Perhaps the avocation of the linyakas and their chief representative
which is really the most important, is the invocation of rain. In
protracted periods of drought, when there seems a probability of the
accustomed public incantations turning out a failure, recourse is had
to linyakas who reside in more rainy districts, the Malokwanas, from
the right bank of the central Limpopo, being always ready to put in an
appearance in consideration of an adequate present of cattle.

But in ordinary seasons the task is entrusted to the native linyakas,
who in the early spring, either alone or accompanied by a few
volunteers, betake themselves to a fertile plot of ground selected as
appropriate for the purpose, and proceed “tsimo ea pula,” i.e. to dig
the rain-field. In the four corners of the field the men plant a number
of seeds of maize, gourds, or water-melons, over which the linyakas
have repeated their incantations, and then the women commence the work
of digging the soil. The day of the ceremonial is the occasion of a
general holiday, the women not going on with their labour till the
following morning.

From that day forward the people are forbidden to gather the young
branches of trees, especially those of the warten-bichi, which
is regarded with veneration by the Bechuanas. But as soon as the
kaffir-corn is ripe, the men, with the linyaka at their head, and
provided with hatchets and knives, assemble at the kotla, and proceed
to cut some branches from the sacred acacia; with these they first
repair the royal cattle-kraal adjoining the kotla, and then make
good any defects in their other enclosures. To carry a bough of the
_Acacia detinens_ round a village at mid-day before harvest would
be regarded as a great calamity to the tribe.

During harvest-time all fruits, ostrich-feathers, and ivory must be
brought into the town from the woods covered up. If it has rained in
the night, and continues to rain in the morning, no one works in the
fields that day for fear of disturbing the rain, and inducing it to
stop. When the wet weather has fairly set in, or as the Bechuanas
conceive, when the doctors have brought on the rain, the linyakas have
to continue their operation, so as to ensure that the downpour may be
of long duration.

For this purpose they are accustomed to resort occasionally by
themselves, but much more frequently in company with their pupils and
the owners of the land, to some isolated spot away among the hills,
where they whistle, shout, mumble their formulæ, and light fires on the
ledges of the rocks, into which from time to time they throw handfuls
of their magic compounds.

When at any time the efforts of the linyakas seem unavailing, the fault
is supposed not to lie with them, but with certain of the community
who must have committed some undetected breach of the laws. Suspicion
more often than not falls upon widows or widowers, who are presumed to
have omitted some of the purifications prescribed for their condition;
they are accordingly sentenced to undergo a public purifying, and the
linyakas are paid to erect grass-huts outside the town, where the
accused are obliged to reside for an indefinite time, their hair being
all shorn from their heads, and whence they are not permitted to depart
to their homes until they are pronounced thoroughly cleansed.

If this purification of individuals should prove unavailing, a general
purifying of all fires and fire-places is ordered, and the linyakas
proceed to remove from every hearth the three stones upon which the
kettle is supported, and having carried them all away, and laid them
in a heap outside the town, they consecrate as many new ones. During
this ceremony all fires must be put out; and either in the evening of
the same day, or early on the following morning, one of the assistant
officers brings some brushwood and a light, and kindles the fires
afresh.

If it should turn out that even this proceeding is a failure, more
vigorous measures still have to be adopted. An universal cleansing of
the entire town is proclaimed, and all accumulations of the bones of
animals, all fragments of skins, and all remnants of human remains, are
scrupulously collected and buried in a deep grave; and if the grave
should be anywhere near the burial-place of a former chief, which is
generally kept a secret, a cow is slaughtered to appease his anger,
which probably has been aroused; and very often hunting excursions,
known as “letshulo,” are set on foot for the purpose of securing
particular animals, some parts of which are essential for the linyakas’
enchantments and rain-charms.

Whatever effect Christianity may have had in ameliorating the
condition of the wives of the converts, it has done very little to
lighten the severity of their tasks; the introduction of the plough,
however, which is driven by men with the help of oxen (animals which
the women never touch), has relieved the Bechuana women of one of their
most fatiguing labours. It is to be hoped that it will gradually tend
to the abolition of all the senseless ceremonies of the rain-magic,
which I have made this long digression to describe.

I resume the account of our travels.

We left Molopolole by the Koboque-pass, and proceeded northwards along
the valley of an affluent of the Tshanyana. The vegetation around us
was luxuriant, the river-banks, valleys, and hillsides being partially
wooded with shrubs and trees, and clothed with flowers and grasses of
many varieties. The steep cliffs, here red, there yellow, there again
grey or dark brown, formed natural terraces of rock, whilst the great
loose boulders, some sharp at the edges, some rounded, were set in a
framework of verdure, spangled with blossoms of every hue.

The clouds were not propitious, and it was through a heavy downpour
of rain that we had to toil along the sandy road. But this was neither
the end nor the worst of our ill-luck. When we came to a halt after
the exertions of the day, I found that Stephan and Dietrich, the two
servants that I had brought from Musemanyana, had disappeared, and
with them two of my strongest bullocks. I had noticed on the previous
evening how the runaways had been repeatedly warning me that there were
lions in the neighbourhood, and concluded that they had a desire to
dissuade me from continuing my journey. Our distance from Molopolole
was about fifteen miles; nevertheless I determined to make my way back,
and to ask Sechele to despatch some horsemen over Khatsisive’s country
in search of the rascals; and finding next morning that the rain had
almost ceased, accompanied by Boly and Pit, I set out on foot to the
town.

I walked for five hours, but my heavy boots had by that time rendered
my feet so painful that I was obliged to stop; and sitting down on the
grass at the edge of the pass leading into the Molopolole valley, I
sent Boly and Pit to carry my messages to Sechele and Mr. Price.

Hour after hour went slowly by, foreboding no good for the success
of their mission, and when they joined me again quite late in the
afternoon, it was only to confirm my fear that all search had been
unavailing.

It was little less than martyrdom that I endured all the way back to
the waggon. Unable to bear the pressure of my boots, I was compelled
to walk barefooted, and as the rain had washed down on to the road
countless seeds of a kind of ranunculus (_R. crepens_), that the
Boers on account of their prickliness have named “Devil’s grit,” my
agonies can be better imagined than described.

Only just before midnight we caught sight of the blaze of our
camp-fire, and were greeted with a cheer of welcome.

As the place had no pleasant associations for us, we started as soon
as we could on the following morning, pursuing our way through the
sandy woods still to the north. The road led us across some shallow
depressions that evidently indicated a slope of the land eastward, in
the rainy season containing some of the affluent brooks of the Limpopo.

  [Illustration: PIT, THE GRIQUA, DISCOVERS LEOPARD TRACKS.]

On the 29th our travelling was exceedingly laborious, not simply on
account of the sand, but from the rise of the ground in the direction
we were going. The shortest distance by road between Molopolole and
Shoshong is 128 miles; but in consequence of the deficiency of water,
it is only at certain times of the year that the direct route is
available, and a long circuit generally has to be made. On foot the
journey is shorter, and may be accomplished in five days.

Some traces of lions and leopards that we observed next day on the edge
of the barren depressions warned us to proceed with caution, and the
sand into which our wheels sank seven or eight inches did not allow our
progress to be as rapid as we could desire.

The numerous skeletons of antelopes, elands, and giraffes were a token
that at no long period previously the district must have abounded with
game. On none of the giraffe-skulls that I examined between this place
and Shoshong did I find the bony protuberances on the forehead to be of
equal height, and many had one or both covered with exostoses, which in
some cases formed a bridge between them across the brow.

Once more, on the 31st, we found ourselves in a sandy forest. During
the last two days there had been no rain, and the South African sun
poured down upon us its glowing beams. While we were toiling along,
Boly drew my attention to some dark objects hanging on an acacia. On
closer approach we found them to be large pieces of dry giraffe-hide,
which we conjectured that some huntsmen had hung up and forgotten; but
while we were handling them we were accosted by a Makalahari, who told
us that they belonged to the morena Sechele, and thus put an end to
any idea we might have entertained of appropriating them to ourselves.
The man told us that he and a few others were stationed there for
giraffe-hunting, the flesh being their own perquisite, while the skins
were the property of the king. I gave him a little present, and he
told me that we should not meet with any water until the middle of the
following day, a piece of information that made us push on with all
possible speed, and we did not bring our day’s march to an end before
it was quite late.

The New Year’s morning of 1874 dawned dull and drear. Although
the previous day had been so hot the sky was now overcast, and the
temperature considerably lower. Towards the middle of the day the
atmosphere became clearer, and we saw a small column of smoke rising
from a wooded eminence above the valley before us which seemed to
extend towards the east. Had it been a column of gold we could hardly
have been more delighted than we were at the sight of that dingy
vapour, and we had no sooner discerned the miserable huts from which it
arose than we sent Pit on ahead to implore the inhabitants to let us
have some water to allay our thirst. Some children were playing in the
vicinity, and we soon came upon two men in the valley who appeared to
be awaiting our arrival. To our grievous disappointment, when we came
up with Pit, he told us that he had ascertained that the only places
from which the people obtained their drinking-water were a few deep
pools, much too small for any animals but goats to drink from, and
there was no place in the neighbourhood where we could water our cattle
that it was possible for us to reach before sunset; and here were two
of the people, who having obtained the permission of their master, a
Bakuena, offered to show us the nearest way.

One of these volunteer guides was a Masarwa. I think that I have
already mentioned that the Bechuanas, like the Korannas of Mamusa,
possess servants, or more properly slaves, belonging to the Makalahari
race, sometimes termed the Bakalahari, who formerly owned the territory
between the Zambesi and the Orange River. Although really slaves they
are generally treated with much consideration; but besides them, there
are two other tribes, the Barwas and the Masarwas, that are reckoned
as slaves, and are regarded by the Bechuanas with much more disdain;
although at times there are alliances between the Makalahari and the
Bakuenas, no free Bechuana would ever dream of allowing a connexion
between himself and either of these two subject races.

The Barwas and the Masarwas, although perhaps not really identical,
are known by either name promiscuously amongst the northern Bechuanas
and the Madenassanas, who live in the upper central parts of the two
Bamangwato kingdoms. They may be described as a cross between some
branches of the Makalahari and the Bushmen. Their form, complexion,
language, and customs afford various indications of their double
origin, and I do not think I can be mistaken in supposing them to be a
link between the Bushmen and the Bantu family.

  [Illustration: NATIVE POSTMEN.]

The Makalahari are generally employed by their Bechuana masters as
cowherds, and especially as domestic servants, but these Masarwas are
perpetually engaged as hunters, a pursuit in which they are far greater
adepts than their owners. Like the Bushmen they use bows and arrows,
to which Bechuanas are little accustomed; they are very adroit also in
capturing animals by means of poisoned assegais, and in driving them
into pits; and they are remarkably skilful in making battus; in this
respect being very like the Madenassanas, a tribe closely allied to
them in appearance and language. It must be mentioned, however, that
it is especially necessary to be on one’s guard against their craft,
treachery, and thievish propensities.

In districts where game is abundant they reside in detached villages.
Their huts look something like large haycocks, consisting of a
framework of stakes driven into the earth, fastened together firmly
at the top about five feet above the ground, and covered with a layer
of twigs and dry grass; they are surrounded by no enclosure whatever,
and a few smooth stones on which seeds are crushed or bones broken,
some piles of ashes, some clusters of dry vegetable pods, and a few
worn foot-tracks are the sole signs of their being used for human
habitation. Though they are slaves, they are entrusted with guns
and ammunition, but all the skins, ostrich feathers, ivory, and
rhinoceros-horn that they procure, as well as certain wild fruits, such
as those of the baobab and fan-palm, have to be handed over to their
masters. If while hunting with his slaves a Bamangwato or Barolong
master has to return home, he leaves the control with the eldest of
them; but after being left they have to go back every three or four
months and present themselves at the town to deliver what they have
secured. On their arrival they are not allowed to enter during the
daytime, but are compelled to wait outside, and to give in their names
and an account of themselves to the inhabitant next in rank to the
chief, who communicates what they report to him; messengers are then
sent out to conduct them to the kotla. Hunters who omit to attend the
royal residence in the proper way are sent for, and by stern reprimand
are compelled to perform this duty.

The Masarwas are of medium height, reddish-brown complexion, and a
repulsive cast of countenance. Although in form they resemble the
Bushmen, in colour and feature they are more like the Makalahari; they
are not, however, so faithful and confiding as these, and consequently
are rarely engaged either as domestic servants or as soldiers. At the
same time, they act very well as spies upon a frontier, and are useful
in bringing intelligence of the advance of an enemy.

No people in South Africa are more skilful than the Masarwas in
foraging out water in dry districts, or more keen in tracking game.
The rough treatment that they have received from the Bechuanas, as
punishment for their misdemeanours, makes them very shy of the white
man; and in travelling across the Kalahari desert, or through such
woods as we had just traversed, or through those between Shoshong
and the Zooga, or, again, between the Salt Lakes and the Zambesi, a
European may be followed unawares by people of this tribe, who keep
their distance from mere fear of being maltreated or put to hard work;
but let a good head of game be brought down, and before the carcase
is cold he will find himself surrounded by a number of them, ready to
receive his commission to disembowel it, and quite content to receive a
good piece of the flesh for their remuneration.

The Masarwas may be said to bear somewhat the same relation to the
other South African tribes as the vulture does to the birds and the
jackal to the beasts. Wherever his keen eye espies a vulture hovering
in the air, he hastens towards the spot where it seems about to settle;
there, if (as perchance he will) he catches sight of a lion in the
middle of his savage meal, by dint of shouting, hurling stones, and
firebrands, he will make the brute retreat, and climbing up like a
monkey into a tree, or scrambling like a weasel into a bush, he will
take deliberate aim, choosing a vulnerable spot into which he may send
his poisoned arrow, and lay the monarch of the forest low.

Like the Bushmen in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, the Barwas
and Masarwas have a great aversion to agriculture and cattle-breeding.
In their primitive dwellings, they do not seem to practise
stone-carving, or to use any stone utensils; and the only attempt that
I ever saw at carving amongst them was in extremely simple patterns,
something like those executed by the Makalahari. Out of ostrich-eggs,
however, they cut circles and manufacture long chains and various other
ornaments. I never saw or heard of any formation of caves or grottoes
among them, nor of any attempt at adorning the rocks.

  [Illustration: MASARWAS AROUND A FIRE.]

Superstition is very rife in the entire tribe. Before his
hunting-excursions, whether he goes alone or in attendance upon his
master, the Masarwa never fails to rattle and throw his dolos, in order
to ascertain the position and the number of the game he is going to
catch, and he relies completely on the indications they give as to
his success. The dolos are consulted also in cases of sickness, and
even to find out the time at which his master is likely to arrive.
He calls them his Morimos, the name having been picked up from the
Bechuanas, who used it originally to specify the Deity, but who employ
it now merely to signify some object higher than the Morenas (princes).
In speaking of his treasured possession, he will say, “Se se Morimo
se” (This is my god); or, “Lilo tsa Morimo sa me” (These are the
instruments of my god); or, “Lilo-lia impulelela mehuku” (These tell me
all about him); and not only does he implicitly believe that some sort
of supernatural power resides in his dolos, but that he himself in the
use of them becomes a sort of inspired instrument.

The Masarwas appear to act with more consideration for their wives
than the Bechuanas and the Makalahari; they impose upon them no
harder duties than fetching water, and carrying the ordinary domestic
utensils; the vessels in which the water is conveyed being generally
made of ostrich-shells, or of gourds bound with bast or strips of
leather. They also show great regard for their dogs, and treat them in
away that is in marked contrast with the ill-usage that the Bechuanas
bestow upon them.

As no traveller has ever resided amongst them for a sufficient length
of time to become master of their language, very little is known about
their habits and customs. It has, however, been ascertained about them
that, on reaching maturity, the cartilage between the nostrils is
pierced, and a small piece of wood is inserted and allowed to remain
till a permanent hole is formed. The operation is described by the
Sechuana word “rupa,” and amongst the Bechuanas is preliminary to the
rite of circumcision.

In many districts the Masarwas are above middle height, and sometimes,
in the country of the Bamangwatos and Bakuenas, are, like the dominant
race, quite tall. After the repulsiveness of their features, there
is nothing about them that strikes a traveller so much as the red,
half-raw scars that they continually have on their shin-bones, and not
unfrequently on their arms, feet, and ankles. Wearing only a small
piece of hide round his loins, and carrying nothing more than a little
shield of eland-hide, the Masarwa suffers a good deal from cold;
but instead of putting his fireplace within an enclosure, like the
Bechuana, or inside his hut, like the Koranna, he lights his fire in
the open air, and squats down so close to it in order to feel its glow,
that as he sleeps with his head on his knees, he is always getting
frightfully scorched, and his skin becomes burnt to the colour of an
ostrich’s legs.

  [Illustration: MASARWAS AT HOME.

    _Page 352._]

The Colonial Bushman is known to cover himself with the skin of some
wild animal, so as to get within bowshot of his prey; and in very much
the same way the Masarwa uses a small bush, which he holds in his hands
and drives before him, whilst he creeps up close to the game of which
he is in pursuit. A friend of mine once told me how he was one evening
sitting over his fire, smoking, on the plains of the Mababi Veldt,
where the grass was quite young and scarcely a foot high, and dotted
over with little bushes, when all at once his eye rested upon a bush
about fifty yards in front of him, at a spot where he felt sure that
there had not been one before. Having watched it for nearly a quarter
of an hour, and finding that it did not move, he came to the conclusion
that he had been mistaken, and rose to go to his waggon. His surprise
was great when, turning round a few minutes afterwards, he saw a
Masarwa, who had gradually approached him under cover of the bush that
he carried.

  [Illustration: MODE OF HUNTING AMONG THE MASARWAS.]

By the time we reached the water-pools to which we were being
conducted, I was considerably better. The place, at which it was my
intention to halt for a day or two, was strewn with zebras’ hoofs
clustered over with little excrescences formed by wasps’ larvæ, with
fragments of koodoo and blessbocks’ horns, with the skulls of striped
gnus, of a giraffe, and of a rhinoceros, so that there could exist
little doubt but that comparatively recently it had been the site of a
hunter’s quarters. This impression was confirmed by the Masarwa guide,
who told us that a party of Bakuenas, with one of Sechele’s sons at
their head, had not long since carried back with them to Molopolole a
great waggon-load of skins and meat, besides a number of ostriches.

Having refreshed ourselves, we agreed that we were bound duly to
celebrate our New Year’s Day. Our festivities were necessarily of a
very simple character, and were brought to a close by drinking the
health of the Emperor of Austria in the heart of the South African
wilderness. The Masarwa stared at us in great amazement; to him our
cheers appeared like speaking to the air, and he inquired of Pit
whether we were addressing our morimo.

Towards evening I felt myself so far recovered, that I ventured to
take a little stroll into the woods to a spot where the road branched
off suddenly from west to north, and where I had observed some trees
of a remarkable height. In the different woods between Molopolole and
Shoshong, some groves of trees are sixty feet high, and amongst them
I saw a species of _Acacia horrida_, that I think I had not seen
elsewhere.

In various places some old trunks of trees had fallen down, and their
black bark had become partly embedded in broken boughs, or they had
rested in their fall obliquely against the standing trunks of other
trees, while the vegetation that sprouted luxuriantly from the mould
that formed upon the decaying wood grew up so thick as to make tracts
in the forest that were perfectly impenetrable. I heard the cackle of
some guinea-fowl at no great distance, but as it was growing dusk, I
felt it was unadvisable to proceed farther into the grove.

  [Illustration: PREPARING THE NEW YEAR’S FEAST IN THE FOREST.]

Having amply remunerated them, I sent our two guides back again, but
according to their advice, I had six large fires lighted round our
encampment to keep off the beasts of prey that we were assured were
very numerous. Then all unconscious that the next day was to be one of
the most eventful of my experience, I lay down and was soon asleep.

I did not wake next morning till after my usual hour, and was only
aroused by a strange chilly sensation running over my body. It was
caused by one of the small snakes that lurked in the skulls that lay
around, and that had been attracted towards us by the warmth of our
camp-fires.

The sun was already quite high, and I found that some visitors had
arrived, amongst whom I recognized the Bakuena who was the principal
resident in the village which we had passed through on the previous
day. He had brought some pallah-skins, a few white ostrich-feathers of
inferior quality, and an elephant’s tusk weighing about nine pounds,
that bore manifest signs of having been shed some years, and having
lain in the grass long before it was discovered.

About noon I shouldered the double-barrelled gun that I had brought
from Moshaneng, took a dozen cartridges, and went off to get some
fresh game for our larder. I had not gone many hundred yards before
I observed some vestiges of gnus, which I tracked for some distance,
until I came across several fresh giraffe foot-marks running in quite
a different direction; at once I altered my course and followed them.
The herd, I reckoned, must have been at least twenty in number. After
keeping along them for nearly two miles, I found the tracks divided,
but I adhered to the line of the more numerous, taking, as I imagined,
a north-west direction.

The turf was close and by no means deep, so that it was at times
rather difficult to distinguish the footprints; the broken branches,
however, showed clearly enough that the animals had gone that way
quite recently. In some places the underwood was very dense, and
there were a good many irregularities in the soil. All the time that
my attention had been given to the breaking off of the branches, I
had quite forgotten to take any account of the direction in which I
had been advancing, and after three miles it occurred to me that I
might have some difficulty in returning. Whilst I was pondering over
my position, I became conscious of a sickening sensation, which I
attributed to being tired and hungry, but almost immediately afterwards
I felt a most violent pain in my temples, and my head appeared to be
whirling round like a windmill. I wandered about for a while, quite
realizing to myself that I could not be more than five miles from
the waggon, but finally started off rapidly in what must have been
precisely the opposite direction. Whether I was overcome by fatigue
and pain, or whether I had experienced a slight sun-stroke, I cannot
say, but to this day it is a mystery to me why, from the time I left
the giraffe-track, till the lengthened shadows told of the approach of
evening, it never once occurred to me to look at the sun.

Having discovered my mistake, I turned my course immediately to the
east, indulging the hope that I might reach the road between Molopolole
and Shoshong. But I was now too much exhausted to go far without
resting. I could hardly advance more than twenty yards without stopping
to recover my energies, and moreover I was beginning to suffer from
the agonies of thirst. It came into my mind that perhaps I was really
nearer to the waggon than I imagined, or that possibly I might be
within hearing of any Masarwas that happened to have hunting-quarters
somewhere near; accordingly, to attract attention, I fired off eight
shots in succession. Between each I paused for a time and listened
anxiously. My shots were spent in vain.

At the cost of getting severely scratched, I next clambered up an
acacia, and fired two more shots from the top. They were as unavailing
as the rest; there was no response, no movement in the woods.

Sensible that my strength could not carry me much farther, I began to
despair. I felt unwilling to make use of my last two shots, but why
should I not? My gun itself was a greater burden than I could bear.

Without considering that by doing so I should probably only attract
some beast of prey, I began to shout, but the state of my exhaustion
prevented my shouting long, and I sunk down upon an ant-hill, from the
slippery side of which I soon rolled to the ground, my gun at my side.
Here I suppose I was overpowered by the heat, as I recollect nothing
except waking with a shriek of laughter at the idea of making myself
heard in such a desert; this brought on a fit of coughing, which seemed
to relieve my brain, but only to make me more conscious than ever of
the excruciating sufferings of thirst.

In vain I felt around me in the hope of reaching some leaf that might
afford sufficient moisture to refresh my parched lips, but every leaf
was either withered, or rough, or hairy; at last I laid hold upon one
that was quite unknown to me, and put it in my mouth, but as if fate
were mocking me, it proved as acrid as gall.

Toiling on a little farther I felt my gun drop from my shoulder to
the ground, and did not care to pick it up. But I had not gone far
before I realized how I had surrendered my sole means of defence, and
how as night came on I should be exposed to the jackals and hyænas;
accordingly by a desperate effort I retraced my steps, and recovered
the weapon. It was loaded with my last two shots, one of which I
determined to use to try and light a fire by which I might lie down
till morning. The twigs, however, would not ignite, and as I abandoned
my attempt, I was aware of the gloom of despondency that was settling
upon me; the wildest projects entered my brain, and I could not repress
the words of delirium that I knew were escaping my lips. I fell on my
knees, and the last thing I seem to recollect was finding myself in the
grasp of a black man, who had pounced upon me suddenly.

  [Illustration: SUCCOURED BY A MASARWA.]

That Masarwa saved my life. He had killed a gnu that morning, and in
returning towards the village to fetch his companions he had discovered
me. He waited until I revived, and at once understood the signs I made
that I was thirsty; opening a little leather bag that he was carrying,
he took out a few berries, which I devoured eagerly, and found a
welcome relief in their refreshing juice. When I had still farther
regained my faculties, I set to work to make my timely benefactor
comprehend that I wanted to get back to my waggon. I used the word
“koloi” to designate the vehicle. It was not a Sechuana word, but had
been very generally adopted, and the man grinned intelligently as
he replied, “Pata-pata?” His answer was an inquiry whether I wanted
the waggon-road, for which pata-pata is a corrupt Dutch expression.
I nodded assent, and he pointed cheerily to the north-east; then
lifting me up, he assisted me to move on; he was considerably shorter
than I was, and taking my gun with his own three assegais over his
left shoulder, he made me walk with my arm over his right. Hope gave
new vigour to my steps, and by being allowed to rest now and then, I
succeeded in getting along.

We reached the road only as the sun had set angrily in the west; in
the east the sky was lowering, and occasional flashes of lightning
were followed at some interval by the rumblings of thunder. The air
became much cooler, and I shivered in the evening breeze, gentle as it
was; I had been in a profuse perspiration, and my clammy shirt was now
clinging to my skin; I had left my coat in the waggon. After walking
on wearily for another half-hour, I pleaded to be allowed to sit down
for a little while; but the Masarwa would not hear of it, and after
following the road a little longer he made a sudden bend into the
woods. At first I hesitated about accompanying him, but pointing to his
mouth and making a lapping sound, he made me comprehend that we were to
get some drinking-water. “Meci?” I inquired. “E-he, e-he,” he answered,
and grinned again gleefully, so that I could not refuse to let him take
me where he would.

True enough, in a little sandy hollow not far from the road was a
pool full of water. Although some gnus had been there within an hour
and made it somewhat muddy, it was a welcome sight to me, and I drank
eagerly.

When I raised my head from the pool my guide pointed to the black
clouds, and made signs to me that we were in for a storm. It grew
darker and darker, and very soon the rain began to fall heavily;
the huge drops beating like hailstones upon my shivering body,
and increasing the wretchedness of my condition. With considerate
thoughtfulness the good Masarwa wrapped up my gun in his short leather
mantle, and never failed to give me the support of his shoulder. I had
the utmost difficulty in holding on. In some places the rain was so
deep that we were wading almost to our knees.

Never was sound more welcome than the barking of my dog, which at last
greeted my ears. Eberwald and Boly came running to meet us, and were
inclined to reproach me with the anxiety I had caused them; they had
yet to learn the misery I had endured.

Once again safely sheltered in the waggon, I found my energies rapidly
revive. I gave directions that the Masarwa should be hospitably
treated, and allowed to sleep with Pit by the side of our fire; and,
having partaken of a good supper, I soon fell into a sound sleep, which
I required even more than on the previous night.

I was able to move about next morning without assistance, and was ready
to start again. The Bakuena, who had stayed with our people since the
day before, assured us that we should find the direct road impassable;
and we followed his advice in making a considerable détour through
the bush. We had not gone many hundred yards when we came upon a dead
duykerbock that had been killed during the night by a hyæna. It seemed
incredible that a creature so fleet as the gazelle could have been
caught by an animal comparatively so unwieldy; but the investigation of
the tracks left no doubt that it was the case.

Subsequently we met some Masarwas returning home laden with honey. The
bees are tracked in the woods by means of the honey-bird; but in open
places they are pursued by following them on their homeward way, as
they fly back one by one. Their nests are usually in hollow trees, and
when the entrance-holes have been discovered, it is easy to drive the
bees out by smoke, and to secure the combs. In exchange for a little
piece of tobacco, rather more than an inch long and about as thick as
my finger, I obtained a pint of honey.

The condition of the road did not improve, and we had to make our way
through a number of very marshy places, where we frequently found dead
tortoises. In the course of the day’s progress I noticed some plants
of the cucumber tribe, which may be reckoned amongst the most striking
of the South African creepers; their handsome lobed foliage is of a
bright blue-green tint, and their bright green fruit, that, when ripe
is dotted over with scarlet and white, stands out in beautiful contrast
to the bushes over which they climb. I have seen as many as ten heads
of fruit on a single plant, and no three of them in the same stage of
development; the lower tip will often be quite red, the end near the
stalk still green, while the intermediate parts vary through every
shade of orange and yellow.

On the 5th we still found our route lying through a good deal of sand,
but the woods were gradually becoming lighter, and, after a time, we
emerged upon a grass plain, where the bushes grew only in patches.
After travelling for about eleven miles we met a Makalahari wearing
his leather apron, and carrying nothing but a couple of assegais and a
hatchet. Upon my asking him whether there was any water to be found, he
offered to conduct our bullocks to some pools about three miles away,
and, meanwhile I proceeded to prepare our camp for the night.

A journey of an hour and a half on the 6th brought us to the
Bamangwato district, and into the wide, but shallow valley of a river,
of which, in the rainy season, the Shoshon is an affluent. This
valley divides the Bamangwato heights into two distinct parts, the
most southerly of which is characterized by several ridges separated
by transverse passes; the northern part consists of an interesting
network of hills intersected by valleys running some parallel, some
crosswise, in the most important of which are the Shoshong and Unicorn
Rivers. These northern highlands are marked by conical peaks that rise
above the table-land, and by rocky passes, of which the stones that
form them are enormous. By some of their peaks the Bamangwato hills
are connected with the ridge I have already mentioned on the Limpopo,
and consequently also with the range in the Marico district. By the
Tschopo chain the highlands are in connexion also with the hill-system
of Matabele-land. The whole valley has been the scene of important
episodes in the history of the Bamangwatos, and I ventured to call it
the “Francis Joseph Valley;” whilst to the highest hill above it I gave
the name of the “Francis Joseph Peak.”

I entered Shoshong on the 8th of January. There were various
considerations that induced me to make this place the northern limit of
my journey. My provisions were getting low, and I had not sufficient
means to procure a fresh supply; then I was unable, for want of funds,
to get the servants I should require if I went farther; and, lastly,
after an absence of three months, I was afraid I should be lost sight
of by my patients at the diamond-fields, amongst whom I reckoned upon
gaining, by my medical practice, the means for prosecuting my third
journey, to which the others were regarded by me as merely preliminary.

Before, however, turning my steps to the south, I settled upon staying
some time in Shoshong, the account of which will be given in the
following chapter.




                              CHAPTER XI.

               FROM SHOSHONG BACK TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS.

   Position and importance of Shoshong--Our entry into the
   town--Mr. Mackenzie--Visit to Sekhomo--History of the Bamangwato
   empire--Family feuds--Sekhomo and his council--A panic--Manners
   and customs of the Bechuanas--Circumcision and the
   boguera--Departure from Shoshong--The African francolin--Khame’s
   saltpan--Elephant tracks--Buff-adders--A dorn-veldt--A
   brilliant scene--My serious illness--Tshwene-Tshwene--The Dwars
   mountains--Schweinfurth’s pass--Brackfontein--Linokana--Thomas
   Jensen, the missionary--Baharutse agriculture--Zeerust and
   the Marico district--The Hooge-veldt--Quartzite walls at
   Klip-port--Parting with my companions--Arrival at Dutoitspan.


Shoshong, the capital of the eastern Bamangwatos, is undoubtedly
the most important town in any of the independent native kingdoms
in the interior of South Africa. In the main valley of the
interesting Bamangwato heights lies the bed of an insignificant
stream which is full only after the summer rains, and which receives
a periodically-flowing brook, called the Shoshon. On this the town
is situated, so that it would seem that Shoshong is the ablative of
Shoshon, i.e., on the Shoshon.

  [Illustration: A BAMANGWATO BOY.]

  [Illustration: APRONS WORN BY BAMANGWATO WOMEN.]

Ten years ago, before the war broke out between the various members
of the royal family, Shoshong with its 30,000 inhabitants held the
highest rank of any town throughout the six Bechuana countries, (viz.
those of the Batlapins, Barolongs, Banquaketse, Bakuenas, and the
eastern and western Bamangwatos) where the strength of the ruling power
is usually centred in their capital for the time being. The population
of Shoshong is now scarcely a fifth part of what it formerly was, a
falling-off to be attributed to Sekhomo, who was king of the eastern
Bamangwatos at the time of my first visit; not only was he the promoter
of the civil war, which cost the lives of many of the people, but he
was the means of causing a division of the tribe, which resulted in
the migration of the Makalakas. Under the rule of Khame, Sekhomo’s
son, decidedly the most enlightened of the Bechuana princes, the town
is manifestly reviving, and if during the next few years it should
remain free from hostilities on the part of the Matabele Zulus, it may
be expected to rise again into its old pre-eminence amongst Bechuana
towns. For white men, traders, hunters, and explorers alike, it is
and always must be a place of the utmost importance, and that for the
following reason: there are three great highways that lead into the
four southernmost Bechuana kingdoms, viz., from Griqualand West, from
the Transvaal, and from the Orange Free State; the whole of these
unite at Shoshong, whence they all branch off again, one to the north,
towards the Zambesi, another to the north-east to the Matabele and
Mashona countries, and another to the north-west, to the country of the
western Bamangwatos and to the Damara country, so that it follows as
a matter of necessity that the admittance of a traveller into Central
Africa from the south depends upon his reception by Khame at Shoshong.

The valley of the Bamangwato highland is five or six miles wide, and
overgrown with grass and bushwood; it is partly cultivated, and at its
point of union with the Shoshong pass it is speckled over with some
hundreds of thatched cylindrical huts, about twelve feet in diameter,
and rarely more than seven feet in height, some of them overgrown with
the rough dark foliage of the calabash-gourd.

Approaching the town from the south, we noticed three farmsteads and
five detached brick houses about 600 yards before we entered the place.
These houses were built with gables, and had much more of an European
than of a Bamangwato aspect. We learnt that they were called “the white
man’s quarters,” being occupied during part of the year by English
merchants, who come to transact business with the natives, and, in
years gone by, supplied provisions to the hunters, to be paid for on
their return in ivory and ostrich-feathers. Amongst the firms of this
character, the most important, I believe, was that of Messrs. Francis
and Clark, but, like other inland traders, they must latterly have
experienced very unfavourable times.

Hitherto the king has refused to allow Europeans to purchase any
land, but has permitted them to occupy the sites of their premises
gratuitously.

The chief thing that struck me as we approached the town was the number
of residences that had been abandoned, although in many of these
repairs were now going on. In one place I observed some women daubing
clay with their bare hands over a wall six feet high, made of stakes as
thick as their arms driven about a foot into the ground, and fastened
together with grass; while close by was a lot of children, varying from
six to ten years old, busily preparing the material for their mothers’
use; these youngsters evidently enjoyed their occupation vastly;
they were dressed in nothing beyond their little aprons of beads or
spangles, and accomplished their task by treading down the red clay in
a shallow trench, chanting continually a kind of song, which was not
altogether unmusical; an old woman whose scraggy limbs, parchment-skin,
and general mummy-like appearance did not say much for the amount of
care bestowed upon her, was pouring water into the trench from the
vessels which stood beside her.

In other places women were clambering on to the newly-constructed
roofs, and making them tidy by pulling off the projecting stalks, or
were putting the finishing touch to their work by fastening thin bands
of grass all over the thatch.

All along the paths, in the courtyards, and especially at the hedges,
crowds of inquisitive women with infants in their arms, and clusters of
small children around them, had assembled to criticize the makoa (white
men) and freely enough they passed their opinions about us. Most of
them wore several strings of large dark blue beads round their necks,
and the breasts of most of them were bare, although occasionally they
had cotton jackets or woollen handkerchiefs, the prevailing colours
being red and black; nearly all of them had skirts reaching to the
knees, if not to the ankles.

It took us about an hour to make our way through the labyrinth of
huts before we entered the glen that contains the town. This glen is
about 400 yards wide at its mouth, but gradually converges to a narrow
rocky pass; at first sight, indeed, it presented the appearance of a
_cul-de-sac_, but the semblance was only caused by the western
side of the steep pass projecting so far as to conceal the eastern,
which is covered with rugged crags, and called the monkey-rock. The
pass has played an important part in the history of the town.

The mission-house of the London Missionary Society lies on the side of
the pass, and as we went towards it we saw three groups of houses on
the right, forming the central portion of the town, of which another
section lies in a rocky hollow on the other side.

  [Illustration: BAMANGWATO HUTS AT SHOSHONG.

    _Page 372._]

High above the river-bed on the steep to the left, could be seen the
ruins of a European building, the remains of the Hermannsburg Mission
Chapel, which had been used as a rampart in one of the native battles,
and had been all but destroyed. The mission had previously withdrawn
from Shoshong and been replaced by the London Missionary Society,
of which the buildings are very comfortable, and form an important
settlement, as besides the chapel and school, they include the
dwellings occupied by the married native students.

At the time of my first visit to Shoshong, the principal of the mission
was Mr. Mackenzie, one of the noblest-hearted men I ever met with in
South Africa; since 1876, when he removed with his school to Kuruman,
his place has been vacant, but his associate, Mr. Hephrun, still
continues to reside at Shoshong in another house.

Having been kindly entertained at tea by Mr. Mackenzie and his wife,
we started off under his escort to pay our respects to the king, who,
we were told, was waiting to receive us in the kotla. We saw throngs of
women in the pass under the monkey-rock carrying vessels full of water
from the spring in the centre of the glen; their garment generally was
a sort of toga of untanned skin, with the hair inside, fastened round
the body, and leaving the right hand free to balance their pitchers on
their heads, which they did so adroitly, that not a drop was spilled
upon the roughest roads. The dress was commonly adorned profusely with
bead ornaments and strips of leather, and the calves of the women’s
legs were covered with rings of beads and brass-wire.

  [Illustration: KOTLA AT SHOSHONG.]

The king’s residence, as usual, was built round the kotla, and on
our way thither, we had the opportunity of observing the respectful
greetings which our conductor received from every one who met us, young
and old. The place was a circular space enclosed by a fence of strong
stakes, the entrance being on the south side, opposite to which was
an opening leading to another smaller enclosure, which was the king’s
cattle-kraal, where his farm stock was kept at night, the horses being
accommodated in the kotla itself. Every night the entrances are made
secure with stakes, and in times of war large fires are kindled and
kept blazing inside.

I have the utmost pleasure in recording my obligations to Mr.
Mackenzie. He is an accomplished man, the author of “Ten Years North
of the Orange River,” but his kindly attentions to myself have made
me regard him with a sincere affection. I was introduced to him
through having been asked to convey some letters to him in 1874 by
his fellow-workers in Molopolole, and his courteous reception of me,
and his subsequent kindness in the time of illness, have so endeared
the remembrance of his name, that I count it as one of the chief
recompenses of all my hard experience that I became acquainted with
him. I regard him thoroughly as a messenger of love.

As missionary in Shoshong during the incessant discords in the royal
family, he had a most difficult position to maintain. But he was the
right man in the right place: with much circumspection he acted as
mediator between the contending parties; gifted with discretion, and
full of sympathy for all that is noble, he succeeded in smoothing
down many difficulties, and arousing something like a proper sense of
justice and humanity. It is entirely owing to him that Sekhomo’s son,
Khame, is now one of the best native sovereigns in the whole of South
Africa.

I had placed our waggon at the south-east end of the town, where it was
quickly surrounded by an inquisitive crowd, and there I left it while I
paid my visit to the king.

We were soon in the royal presence, and seated upon stools set for us
in the kotla.

Except his begging propensities, I had no cause to complain of
Sekhomo’s behaviour to myself during my short sojourn in his town. He
was a man above middle height, rather inclined to be stout, but with
nothing in either his appearance or comportment to distinguish him from
any of the courtiers who attended him, or to mark him out in any way as
the ruler of an important tribe. A small leather lappet was fastened
round his loins, and a short mantle of the same material hung from his
shoulders; this mantle, amongst the eastern Bamangwatos, is usually
made of hartebeest skin, tanned smoothly except in five spots, and
sometimes ornamented in the lower corner with a black circle cut from
the skin of the sword-antelope, and trimmed round the neck with glass
beads.

My first visit to the king was very brief. After the interchange of
a few formal phrases, which Mr. Mackenzie interpreted, I took my
leave under an engagement to come again on the following day; but
before entering upon the details of my intercourse with Sekhomo and
his subjects, I may introduce a few episodes in the history of the
Bamangwatos.

  [Illustration: SEKHOMO AND HIS COUNCIL.

    _Page 376._]

According to traditions collected by Mr. Mackenzie the Bamangwatos
are descended from the Banguaketse. I have already described how the
Baharutse became subdivided, and migrated from their ancestral home.
After a similar subdivision had subsequently led to the formation of
the two tribes of the Banguaketse and the Bakuenas, the Bamangwatos
disengaged themselves from the former of these, and took possession
of a territory north of the Bakuenas, right away to the Zambesi and
the Chobe. During the lifetime of Matifi, Sekhomo’s great-grandfather,
a fresh rupture took place, resulting in the establishment of two
distinct Bamangwato communities, the western on Lake Ngami and the
eastern at Shoshong.

Of the eastern empire, the founder was Towane, the younger of Matipi’s
two sons; Khame, the elder son, maintaining his rule in the old
Bamangwato highland. Towane, in his revolt, carried off his father with
him, but he treated him so badly, that the aged man sought refuge once
again with Khame; but Khame, although he allowed him to enter into his
territory, would not grant him permission to reside in the town, a
refusal that distressed him so sorely, that he died of a broken heart.
The spot where he was buried is now regarded by the Bamangwatos with
much veneration.

The most upright of the seven Bamangwato kings whose names have
been handed down was Khari; of him it is reported that he was bold
and warlike and prudent in council, governing his dependents the
Makalahari, the Madenassanas, and the Masarwas with a gentle rule. So
respected was he by the neighbouring tribes, that several of them,
such as the Makalakas and some of the more eastern Mashonas paid him
voluntary tribute. Unfortunately, his ambition, a characteristic only
too common amongst Bechuana princes, led him to destruction, and
introduced a complete anarchy into his dominions. Honoured as he was
in his own country, respected by his allies, feared by his foes, he
coveted a yet wider power, and in grasping at his aim courted his own
fall. He formed a design against one of the inferior Mashona chiefs,
but the Mashonas, already acquainted with the military tactics of the
Bamangwatos, adroitly divided their army into two sections; the younger
regiments were directed to advance and attack, and then to feign a
retreat; the elder troops were to be in readiness to close in at the
rear and to surround the enemy in Zulu fashion. The stratagem succeeded
perfectly; the Mashonas brought their pretended flight to a sudden end,
and turned upon their pursuers. Khari and his people had been lured
into an ambuscade, and not only was he himself ruthlessly massacred,
but his whole army was all but annihilated.

  [Illustration: BAMANGWATO HOUSE.]

  [Illustration: COURT DRESS OF A BAMANGWATO.]

Immediately upon this disaster, the surviving chieftains in the town
proceeded to take steps for putting one of Khari’s sons upon the
throne. This created considerable opposition, but before the civil
war that was threatening had time to develop itself, the country was
invaded by the Basuto tribe of the Makololos from the Orange River
district, who carried off with them all the members of Khari’s family
into the north, where they were founding a new settlement on the Chobe.
The prisoners succeeded after a while in effecting their escape, and
Sekhomo, Khari’s eldest son by birth (although not being the child
of the chief wife, he was not the proper heir to the throne) lost no
time in scouring the country and collecting stragglers as adherents
to himself. He gathered together a force so considerable, that not
only did he repel an attack of the Makololos, but he cut to pieces
their reserve force in the Unicorn Pass; a victory so decisive, that
it gained for him the allegiance of most of the chiefs, who, at his
instigation, murdered his step-brother, the true heir. Another brother,
Matsheng, was saved from a similar fate by the queen-mother, who gave
him timely warning to save himself by flight.

The one victory was followed up by others, and it was not long before
the Bamangwatos under Sekhomo felt themselves strong enough to make a
successful stand against the Matabele Zulus, who for the last thirty
years had been in the habit of invading the Bechuana countries for the
purpose of plunder; they recaptured much of the cattle that had been
carried off, and so impressed was the Matabele king, Moselikatze, with
their military skill that he long hesitated to attack them, and when
he next ventured to molest them he found them more than a match for
him; he sent forty armed Zulus to demand tribute from Sekhomo, but his
messengers were all put to death, so that he did not make any further
attempt to disturb them during the next twenty years, during which the
Bamangwatos brought their cattle as far as the Matliutse. In March,
1862, at the instigation of Kirekilwe, a fugitive sub-chieftain of the
Bamangwatos, the Matabele king renewed hostilities; some Makalahari
while tending cattle on the Matliutse and Serule were put to death,
and a village on the eastern Bamangwato heights was destroyed, only
two men escaping to carry the news to Shoshong. Without delay Khame
and Khamane, the king’s sons, set off to avenge the injury; they
routed two companies of the Matabele without difficulty, but were
almost overpowered by a third company which had been attracted to the
scene by the sound of fire-arms, and although they killed some forty
of their adversaries, they lost at least twenty of their own men, and
had some difficulty in making a safe retreat to Shoshong. Encouraged
by this temporary advantage the Matabele came on to the Francis Joseph
Valley, and to the hills immediately overhanging Shoshong; they laid
waste some fields, but had not the audacity to enter the Shoshon pass;
after many endeavours to entice the Bamangwatos into the open plains,
they were obliged to retire, and although they carried off with them a
considerable quantity of cattle, Sekhomo started off in pursuit, and
recovered it all within a fortnight.

As the result of all this the Bamangwatos rose in importance. They
were manifestly establishing their superiority over the Matabele,
hitherto regarded as the stoutest and most invincible of warriors, and
the consequence was that numbers of Makalalas, Batalowtas, Mapaleng,
Maownatlalas, and Baharutse, came as fugitives from the Matabele
district and craved permission to settle on the Bamangwato heights.

But in order to convey a correct conception of the order of events,
it is necessary to relate the proceedings of Matsheng, who, as I have
already mentioned, had saved his life by flight. He had betaken himself
to the Bakuenas, and had been taken prisoner by the Matabele on one of
their marauding expeditions, and although once released, he had again
fallen into their hands, and had been trained and treated by them as a
“lechaga,” or common soldier.

Sechele had for a long time been anxious to establish his own claim
over the Bamangwatos, as being descended from his people, the
Banguaketse, but finding himself unable to assert his pretensions
openly, he tried secretly to enlist the sympathies of the Bamangwatos
in behalf of Matsheng, and so far did he succeed that by Dr. Moffat’s
influence he obtained the release of the captive, and gave him a
pompous reception, a proceeding that had such an effect upon Churuku,
the man next in importance to Sekhomo, that he declared himself to
have espoused the cause of Matsheng, who was accordingly installed
at Shoshong as king, Sechele being rewarded for his services with
ostrich-feathers and ivory. The dethroned Sekhomo fled to Sechele, who
received him with open arms.

Matsheng, however, did not long retain the position to which he had
been raised. He had been brought up as a Matabele soldier, and his
spirit of despotism was far too strong for the conservative instincts
of the Bamangwatos; his arrogance and cruelty soon cost him his throne,
Churuku being the very first to revolt against him and to restore
Sekhomo to his former power. Again Matsheng returned to Sechele, who
received him with unvarying courtesy and kindness. All this happened
in 1859, consequently before the attack of the Matabele that I have
described.

It may be interesting to know that although Matsheng was universally
regarded as Sekhomo’s step-brother, he was not really the son of his
father Khari; he was the son of the acknowledged queen, but he was not
born until some years after Khari’s death; the rank, however, of the
first-born and legitimate son was conceded to him, whilst Sekhomo, a
son by a wife of the second grade, though older in years, was reckoned
as illegitimate.

It was in 1864 that Sekhomo frustrated Sechele’s attack upon Shoshong.
In the following year, when the “boguera” was being celebrated, and
Sekhomo observed that neither of his two sons was taking part in the
ceremonial, he was so angry that he caused them to be “enchanted” by
the molois for a whole year, a proceeding on his part that had no
other effect than enlisting the sympathies of the younger regiments on
their behalf. His rage reached its height when Khame, who had married
Churuku’s daughter, not only refused for himself, but prohibited his
wife from taking any share in the rites of the boguera, a time-honoured
institution which Sekhomo positively insisted on as indispensable for
any one aspiring to be acknowledged as a future queen. He would have
liked to procure the assassination of Churuku, but he dared not seek
his assassins amongst the Bamangwatos, nor could any Matabele fugitive
be induced to undertake the task. He tried all manner of threats and
persuasions to alienate their adherents, and even determined upon
an assault upon the huts where his sons resided. Getting together a
number of his partisans, he bade them fire; not a man, however, would
obey his orders, and when he raised his own gun to take aim, it was
struck out of his hand. Dreading the vengeance which he felt sure would
follow upon his deed, he ran off and took refuge with his mother; but
his sons, so far from exacting retribution, agreed to keep him upon
the throne upon the sole condition that he would commit no further act
of hostility against themselves or any other members of the Christian
community. Although Sekhomo did not hesitate to give the required
pledge, it was only in accordance with his character that he should
continue to devise clandestine schemes against the objects of his
hatred.

Accordingly, before long, he sent to Sechele’s quarters and invited
Matsheng to come and join him in a conspiracy against his sons. In
March he made his attack, having by this time gained so many of the
Bamangwatos to his side, that Khame and Khamane, after holding out as
long as they could in the ruins of the chapel, were obliged to retreat
with their followers to the mountains.

For about a month fighting went on in a desultory way without bringing
decided advantage to either party, when Sekhomo, with the assistance of
some Makalahari, stormed the peaks of the mountains to which his sons
had withdrawn. They held out firmly for more than a week, when the want
of water compelled them to make a complete surrender. Khame distinctly
refused, however, to return to paganism; his life was spared, but no
mercy was shown to his followers, many of them, including Churuku,
being ruthlessly slaughtered.

In May, Matsheng reappeared in Shoshong once more to assert his
claim. Khame and Khamane openly avowed their opposition, but did not
take up arms. Sekhomo, too, was weary of his step-brother, and again
resorted to stratagem. He called an assembly, inviting both his sons
and Matsheng to his kotla, intending to get them to enter first, when
they might be surrounded and disposed of at a single blow; but they got
scent of his design, and took care to enter last, so that the plot was
defeated. A second scheme failed as totally as the first; his friends
deserted him, and he was compelled to fly. Thus Matsheng was for the
second time declared ruler of the Bamangwatos.

Sekhomo fled from quarter to quarter. He first betook himself to the
Manupi in the country of the Banguaketse; then to the Makhosi, whence
he was expelled by Sechele’s order, and finally he took refuge with
Khatsisive at Kanye.

Matsheng had no sooner again felt his feet as sole governor, than he
fell into his old ways, and showed himself a thorough autocrat. He set
to work to undermine the influence of Khame and Khamane, declared that
Christianity was hostile to the welfare of the tribe, and persevered in
every possible way in doing violence to the religious sentiments of his
people. Finding his instructions disregarded, he determined to dispose
of Khame. He dared not use violent means, and the only course that
suggested itself was to call in the aid of the molois; but neither did
the operation of magic prove effectual, nor did he succeed in getting
some poison, for which he applied to a European trader.

His reign at last came to an untimely end. Whilst Khame was on a
visit to Khatsisive he met Sechele, who furnished him with troops to
enable him to expel Matsheng. An encounter took place in the Francis
Joseph valley, at the mouth of the Shoshon pass, in which Matsheng
was worsted, the engagement being remarkable for the circumstance
that Matsheng’s allies, the Matabele, under the command of Kuruman,
the son of Moselikatze, fought on horseback. Prepared for this, Khame
posted his best marksmen as advanced skirmishers behind the bushes so
effectually, that the mounted Matabele, once dispersed, were exposed to
a concealed fire, and unable to recover themselves. Kuruman deserted
in the very middle of the fight, and Matsheng, with all his followers,
after plundering the house of Mr. Drake, a trader in the district, fled
in great disorder.

From that day forward the legitimate ruler was never again seen in
Shoshong. He retired first to the Mashwapong heights on the central
Limpopo in the eastern Bamangwato land, but was not allowed to remain
in peace. Khamane drove him from his refuge, and he retreated to the
Mabolo Mountains. After his expulsion Khame was declared king, and for
a time there seemed some chance of the bitter feuds coming to an end.

Khame, however, appeared incapable of learning by experience. His soft
heart revolted at the thought of keeping Sekhomo in banishment, and
after exacting a promise from him that he would keep the peace, he
recalled him to Shoshong, when he very soon resumed his old devices.
First of all he promoted dissension between the two brothers, by
awarding Khamane not only the cattle taken from Matsheng, but by
assigning him a village of the Manansas, a people of the Albert
country, the mountain district south of the Victoria Falls. Khamane
unfortunately suffered himself to be beguiled by his father’s wiliness;
his ambition to secure the sovereign power led him to turn a deaf
ear to Khame’s representations, neither would he be swayed by the
remonstrances of Mr. Mackenzie, who tried hard to bring about such a
good understanding as might promise a lasting peace in the land.

To avoid further collision, Khame now migrated with a very
considerable proportion of the Shoshong population, settling on the
River Zooga, in the territory of the western Bamangwatos, where he was
received with much cordiality and regarded with esteem and affection by
the Batowanas. Unfortunately his people began to be decimated by fever,
so that before long he had no alternative but to make his way back to
his own country.

Such was the state of affairs on my first arrival at Shoshong.

My first concern now was to replenish my stock of provisions, which was
very low. I found this a much more difficult matter than I expected,
and it was only by Mr. Mackenzie’s assistance that I was able to
procure the simplest and most indispensable articles. It was of
itself a difficulty quite enough to make me renounce all intention of
extending my journey as far as the Zooga, or Botletle.

On the 9th, I was favoured with a visit from the king and his
linyakas, an honour subsequently repeated so often as to become a
positive nuisance, as henceforward, so long as we stayed in the place,
we had to receive his majesty and his council of “black crows” once a
day, and occasionally twice. When he arrived, Sekhomo would keep on
shaking my hand, while his factotum, who could speak Dutch, would be
perpetually begging for something in his master’s name. The king at
other times would stand with his arms akimbo, his myrmidons squatting
around him in a semicircle and imitating everything he did; if he
laughed, they laughed; if he gaped, they gaped; if he yawned, they
yawned; and one day, when his majesty burnt his mouth with some tea
that was too hot, they all puckered up their faces as if they likewise
were experiencing the pain; when he turned to go home, they rose and
followed him in single file, like a flock of geese.

One day I received a visit from a travelling Dutch hunter, who was
returning with his family from a six months’ excursion in the Zooga and
Mababi districts; during that time he had killed twenty-one elephants
and fifteen ostriches. He recounted two interesting adventures
that he had with lions, in one of which his little son had played
quite an heroic part. His object in coming to me now was to consult
me professionally, as three of his children were lying ill with
intermittent fever.

According to Mr. Mackenzie’s estimate, Sekhomo’s actual revenue was
equivalent to about 3000_l._ a year, and consisted of cattle,
ivory, ostrich-feathers, and skins. He had no state-expenditure
whatever. The free Bamangwatos were allowed the produce of their herds,
such ostrich-feathers as were of inferior quality, and one tusk of
every elephant that they killed.

Throughout our stay in Shoshong the downpour of rain was almost
incessant; nevertheless, our waggon was constantly besieged by a crowd
of visitors and workpeople, so that quite a brisk trade was carried
on; this, on one occasion, was slightly interrupted by our bullocks
becoming suddenly restive.

In the midst of the general peace the population was thrown one
morning into a state of disturbance by the intelligence that hostile
Matabele were on their way to the place. The residents were seized with
a panic, the king came hurrying down to me in a state of excitement,
and borrowed one of my guns, which, as I might have expected, I
had considerable difficulty in getting back again. He showed me
his palladium, an amulet made of a lion’s claw, which was supposed
to render him invulnerable; he had at once given orders that his
people should betake themselves to the heights overhanging the town.
Everybody, therefore, with all speed, was collecting his few effects
and preparing to drive the sheep and cows to the hills. The state of
confusion reached its height when the report of fire-arms was heard
close outside the town, but although it was soon ascertained that the
shots had only been fired at a stray hyæna, it was long before the
apprehension could be allayed that the Matabele were commencing an
assault. Next day a Boer hunter from the western Matabele country, a
son of the renowned elephant-hunter Pit Jacobs, who resides on the
Tati River, came into the place, and assured the people that there
was not the least foundation for their alarm; but so completely
had the impression of their danger got possession of them that his
representations received no credit whatever, and even the European
traders began to take measures for defence. Under the circumstances,
Mr. Mackenzie advised me to take my departure as quickly as I could, as
although there was nothing likely to happen to compromise my personal
safety, there was no answering for the security of my property.

When Sekhomo heard that we were going away, he expressed his regret
that we, whom he regarded as his friends, should be forsaking him in
his trouble. As a parting gift I gave him a blue woollen dress for one
of his seven wives, and he in return presented me with a bundle of grey
ostrich-feathers.

In no other native town throughout my journey did I succeed so well as
here in making additions to my ethnographical collection. The resident
traders showed some annoyance at my proceedings, but I managed to
exchange nearly all the goods I had in my waggon for various objects
of local handicraft. I obtained a great many assegais and hatchets,
some daggers, knives, kiris, and sticks, wooden pillows, pots, pans,
spoons, magic dice of various materials, as well as a large variety of
snuff-boxes, gourd-vessels, articles for the toilet, ornaments, aprons,
cups, dolls, and toys made of clay. Perhaps the most noteworthy amongst
my acquisitions were some of Sekhomo’s war and rain drums, a little
ivory fetish, some kiris made of rhinoceros horn, and several whistles.
I bartered away some of my skins of pallah-antelopes, leopards, lynxes,
and caracals, and for a small extra payment had some of them back again
after they had been converted into garments. The Bamangwato workmanship
differs very little from that of all other Bechuana tribes; their huts,
though somewhat smaller and more slightly built, are most like those of
the Barolongs, but they have larger corn-bins of unbaked clay than any
I saw elsewhere.

Nor did my naturalist’s collection fail to gain some curious
contributions. Amongst the lizards I found a beautiful striped sort,
with a metallic lustre of brown, dark green, and blue; and some of
other kinds, without stripes, that seemed particularly tame.

Before describing my return journey, I will append some further details
of Bechuana customs to those which I have given in the previous chapter.

As a rule a heathen Bechuana has but one wife, though the more
well-to-do not unfrequently have two; the number allowed to the
sub-chieftains varies from three to six; the kings being permitted to
have more, although not so many as those in the Marutse empire. A man
of competent means presents his newly-married wife with several head of
sheep or oxen.

On entering a town, a traveller picks up some of the stones in his
path, and after throwing them into a bush, or laying them in a forked
branch of a tree, breathes a prayer that he may reach the end of his
journey in safety.

The skin, horns, or flesh of a sacred animal, such as the duykerbock
among the Bamangwatos or the crocodile among the Bakuenas, are not
allowed to be touched.

An owl, sitting upon a hut, is considered of evil omen; and the
linyakas are called in to purify the spot that has been defiled by the
touch of the bird.

An animal observed to do anything that according to Bechuana notions
is unusual, is at once considered dangerous, and must be either killed
or submitted to the treatment of a linyaka. For instance, if a goat
should spring upon a housetop, it would be immediately struck with an
assegai; or if a cow in a cattle-kraal should persist in lashing the
ground with its tail, it would be pronounced not to be an ordinary cow,
but would be considered “tiba,” and as such sure to bring disaster,
disease, or death upon its owners. A rich man would forthwith have the
animal put to death; but a poor man is permitted to sell it either to a
white man, or to one of another tribe. It is only in cases of this kind
that a Bechuana parts with his cows at all.

Ordinarily no woman is allowed to touch either a cow or a bullock; the
tending of cattle, except in Hottentot families, being always assigned
to boys and men.

As I have already implied, the Bechuana form of government is to a
certain extent constitutional; all legislation or decisions of public
importance having to be discussed in the “pitsho” or assembly-house; it
must be acknowledged, however, that in most cases, especially those in
which the king has any influence with the sub-chiefs, every question
is settled by a foregone conclusion. As with other Bantu peoples, the
king (the morena or koshi) is practically paramount in all public
functions; the chiefs that are associated with him belonging either
to his own tribe or being such as have fled to him for protection, or
have obtained leave to settle in his land. Khatsisive and the chiefs
of the Manupi and western Baharutse may be cited as examples of this;
they occupy separate villages, at divers distances apart, some of
them lying close together and others being a considerable way from
the royal residence. Wherever they are, each of these villages has a
small enclosure which represents the kotla, and where the matters to
be discussed in the royal kotla are submitted to preliminary debate;
and when the king wants to gather a general concourse of chiefs for
important business he sends a messenger, who lays a bough of a tree in
the enclosure, which is understood to be a summons.

When war is contemplated, the council is generally held in the
outskirts of the town in preference to the kotla, as being less likely
to be overheard; the name given to such a council is “letshulo,” the
same that is used for the hunt instituted by the linyakas for the
purpose of procuring rain.

Under the presidency of their chiefs all the inhabitants of a village
are at liberty to attend the council, and as every minute circumstance
is discussed with the most unlimited freedom the clatter of voices is
often something extraordinary.

When a meeting has been called to administer justice, it must be
confessed that the first thing taken into account is whether the
accused is a favourite at court; in that case, as often as not, he is
allowed to depart scot free. When a theft has been committed, a royal
herald is sent through the town, who at once announces the fact, and
declares the king’s intention to punish the offender; the threat, more
often than not, has the effect of inducing the culprit to lay the
stolen goods under cover of night in some public place, whence they
may be restored to their owner. Very frequently the services of the
linyakas are called in, the magic dice are thrown, and other devices
adopted to detect the offender.

I may mention one of the linyakas’ modes of operation in these cases.
After a full investigation of the matter, all the parties suspected
are summoned to the kotla. The linyaka places them in a circle and
walks round them several times, monotoning as he goes, “The thief
who has done this deed must die to-day.” He next sends for a bowl
of maize-pap, which he doles out with a wooden spoon, saying over
every spoonful, “The thief that swallows this pap shall die to-day.”
This done, he proceeds to make a careful scrutiny of each separate
countenance, and then retires to throw his mysterious dice. In a short
time he cries aloud, “I have found the thief!” Going once more round
the circle, he compels every one in succession to open his mouth, the
result ordinarily being that all but one has swallowed the mouthful. In
his fear of bringing the curse of death upon himself, the culprit has
retained the pap in his mouth, intending to spit it out at the first
chance, the precaution he uses of course revealing his guilt.

A criminal on his first conviction of theft has to restore double
or fourfold what he has stolen; on being repeatedly convicted he is
sentenced to have the tips of his fingers scalded off; an incorrigible
offender has to lose the whole of his hand. Murder is usually
considered a capital offence; but a man under sentence of death may
redeem his life by paying a sum of money, or its equivalent in kind, to
the victim’s next-of-kin.

During the time of Matsheng’s rule a singular case occurred of a man
killing his brother from avarice. The aged father had announced his
intention of leaving the bulk of his property to his elder son, and the
younger determined to get rid of his brother, hoping thereby to inherit
the whole. “Brother,” he said to him one day, “did you not hear our
father say that the linyaka wanted a monkey’s skin to restore him the
use of his limbs? Will you go with me to the hills and shoot a monkey?”
The elder brother acquiesced, and they started off together. An hour
brought them to the foot of the rise, when the younger suggested that
it would be better for them to begin to scour the hill from opposite
directions, a proposition to which the elder brother readily assented.
An old woman was gathering berries on the hill, and observing the
peculiarity of the young man’s movements could not help suspecting that
he intended some mischief, and following him unperceived saw that,
instead of going straight up the hill, he crept round to the right and
as soon as he came within sight of his brother, took deliberate aim and
shot him dead. In pretended consternation, he returned to the town,
relating how by miserable misadventure he had shot his poor brother,
supposing him to be an ape in the bushwood. The old woman hurried to
Matsheng and gave her evidence as to the real facts of the case so
clearly, that instead of furthering his scheme to become his father’s
heir, the wretch was by the king’s order carried back to the scene of
his crime, and was there himself shot with his brother’s gun.

  [Illustration: TRAINING THE BOYS.]

Among other customs which seem to belong more or less to all the Bantu
tribes with whom I came in contact, there are some which remind us
of the Mosaic law. Held as of the highest importance by the heathen
Bechuana is the rite of circumcision; until it has been submitted to,
no youth is supposed to have arrived at man’s estate, and no woman
is considered of marriageable age. The ceremony, however, does not
universally or necessarily indicate the attainment of a state of
maturity, as is the case with the breaking off of the front teeth by
the Matongas and Mashukulumbe; it is rather an initiation into the
system of hardening which every youth is required to undergo before he
is counted worthy of the titles of “mona” or “ra” which betoken a man’s
estate.

Called the “boguera,” the observance is put into force upon boys
after they have reached their ninth year. The ceremony is performed
at intervals varying from two to five years, according to the extent
of a tribe; the period of its exactment being held to be a time of
great festivity in the towns. If the boys do not present themselves
voluntarily, they are brought under compulsion, and as a preparatory
office they are smeared all over with a solution of chalk; the girls
wear nothing but belts made of pieces of reed or aprons of genets’
tails, their breasts and faces being also whitened with chalk. The
solemnization of the rite takes place outside the town, old men acting
as operators with the boys and old women with the girls.

The boguera happened to be celebrated at the time of my visit to
Shoshong, so that I had the best opportunity of becoming acquainted
with its details. Singing as they go, the young people of both sexes,
accompanied by the linyakas, proceed beyond the town to the appointed
spot, where the boys are put through a drill in manly exercises,
and the girls are formally initiated into domestic duties, such as
carrying wood and fetching water; throughout their performances they
keep up their monotonous chant; and as their figures are all white by
the application of chalk, nothing can be imagined much more grotesque
than the appearance they present as they go through their series of
gymnastics.

The boys are next marched off in detachments to the kotla, where they
have all to be beaten with rods. Bare of all clothing, except their
little girdle and their sandals, which they are permitted to hold in
their hands, they are placed in two rows, back to back, and made to
kneel down whilst a man, generally their next-of-kin, stands in front
of each and proceeds to deliver his lashes, which the lads parry as
best they can by the dexterous manipulation of the sandals; they are
required to keep on singing, and to raise each foot alternately,
marking the measure of the chant.

All the youths who submit to the boguera at one time are formed into
a company, and the more sons a Bechuana can bring to the ceremony, the
prouder he is. A chief will generally try to introduce a son of his own
or of a near relative to take command of the troop, and an _esprit de
corps_ is frequently excited which sometimes has a beneficial effect
upon the quarrels that arise at court. The friendship thus formed often
remains unbroken, in spite of the commander avowing himself a Christian
and being baptized.

The girls, so long as the ceremonial lasts, are not allowed to sleep;
to keep them awake they are made to spend the night sitting upon wooden
corn-pounders, of which the equilibrium is so unstable that the first
attempt to get a wink of sleep sends the damsel toppling over.

  [Illustration: BAMANGWATO GIRLS DRESSED FOR THE BOGUERA.]

The real object of the entire ceremonial is to discipline and harden
the young, particularly the boys; the rite is followed by a succession
of hunting excursions, organized and kept up for several successive
years; the members of a company are told off into sets, and under
the guidance of an experienced hunter are taken out first to chase
antelopes and gazelles, and in course of time to pursue elephants and
buffaloes. On these expeditions they are designedly exposed to many
hardships; they are compelled to make long marches through districts
where there is no water; only in exceptional cases are they suffered to
approach the fire even in the severest weather, and they are forced to
experience the long-continued pangs of hunger.

A Bechuana will commonly reckon his age from the date of a boguera;
when asked how old he is, he will mention the company to which he
belongs, and will refer to the names of one or two of its best-known
members.

According to Mr. Mackenzie, the “tshwaragana moshang,” or ceremonial of
alliance between two chiefs, ought not to be omitted from an account of
Bechuana customs. When vows of fidelity are exchanged between a ruler
and any other chief or refugee, some domestic animal is slaughtered;
and the stomach being cut open so as to expose the entrails, the two
parties plunge their hands into the midst of them, and mutually shake
them together.

The various forms of purification should likewise be mentioned. There
are special rites to be performed by all who return either from war
or from hunting-expeditions; arms, prisoners, plunder, have all to
be subjected to a process of cleansing; whoever has touched a corpse
must be purified; women after childbirth have to live apart from their
husbands from one to three months, according to their means; a period
of seclusion is prescribed for all who have been seriously ill; in
all these cases the linyakas are invariably consulted and receive
substantial rewards, one of the most common directions which they give
consisting, as I have said, in ordering the woolly hair to be cut off
with a knife or small sharpened horn.

We left Shoshong for the Marico district on the 16th of February. The
weather was still unpropitious, and our progress was retarded by the
miry state of the soil; in many places the water was two feet deep, and
the dense growth of the woods did not permit us to make a détour to
avoid it. The entire district south-eastwards between Shoshong and the
Limpopo was one great forest. In some places the soil continued salt,
and salt-pans were of not unfrequent occurrence; towards the south, on
the banks of the Sirorume, it became rather undulated and very sandy.
The journey occupies three days; and in the winter there are only two
places where fresh water can be obtained.

In the course of the next day’s march I made my first acquaintance
with a bird that throughout South Africa is known as “det fasant.”
Hearing a sharp, shrill cackle in the underwood, I turned and saw a
brown bird (_Francolinus nudicollis_) perched on a tree-stump.
It belongs to the partridge tribe, and is to be found in many of the
wooded and well-watered districts that I afterwards visited. It is
common likewise in Central South Africa. The francolins live either
in pairs or in small coveys, and the cock would appear to be a most
watchful guardian, not only calling out upon any approach of danger,
but even whilst scratching the ground for food, and on retiring to a
tree to roost; the habit of crying out whenever it perches, makes it an
easy prey to the sportsman.

On the 18th we passed a shallow saltpan, nearly elliptical in shape,
about two feet deep, and some hundred yards in its greater length; it
contained a very salt, milky-looking fluid. When the weather is dry,
fresh water is only to be found in some pools in the rocks at the
northern end. The lake lay still and silent in a slight depression in
the forest, surrounded by a broad band of bright green sward; neither
rushes nor water-lilies rose above its surface, but its shores, sloping
gently down, were covered by trees and bushwood, in some parts so
impenetrable that only the fleet little duykerbock would have a chance
of making its way between the stems; in other places low acacia bushes
sprouted up below the underwood from a single stock; flowers were
abundant everywhere, and the whole scene was like a dead sea set in the
midst of a fragrant and richly-wooded tract of land.

As a mark of esteem for the magnanimous king of the Bamangwatos, I
gave this lake the name of Khame’s Salt-pan. On the shore I found
fragments of greenstone and chalcedony, and further back, amongst the
thorn-bushes, quartzite and limestone. There were numerous vestiges of
the smaller gazelles, gnus, zebras, and giraffes, all of which, find
rich pasturage on the plains extending east and west of the Limpopo.

[Illustration: KHAME’S SALT-PAN.]

Amongst the trees I was particularly struck by one, the wood of
which I afterwards learned was of great value; this was a mimosa,
known amongst the Boers as the “Knopi-dorn;” it often grows straight
up to the height of fifty feet, without a single bifurcation; its
yellowish-grey bark is covered by excrescences sometimes two inches
long, with sharp, hooked thorns at their ends. The timber is in use for
building purposes, but it is considered a material especially adapted
for making waggons.

In the afternoon we passed some salt-pools, in which I was surprised
to find some half-starved fish. The fish themselves were not of any
uncommon kind; to me the perplexing thing was how they could have made
their way to so great a height above the table-land, and the only
explanation I could give was that they had been carried thither by
birds.

Evening overtook us in the valley of the upper Sirorume, just at
the spot where the stream makes its way over interesting shelves of
sandstone, thence to turn south, and then south-south-east to join the
Limpopo.

While proceeding through the sandy forest in the inner bend of the
Sirorume, we noticed from the waggon an appearance in the ground as
though the long grass had been flattened by a heavy roller six or seven
feet wide. It proved to be an elephant-track, and two Bamangwatos on
their way to the Transvaal informed us that it was made by a herd of
the great small-tusked elephants that were known to be wandering about
the boundaries of Sekhomo’s and Sechele’s territory. I entertained no
doubt that it was the same herd of which I had heard before, and which
continued to haunt the same region for two years afterwards, when it
was destroyed by the Damara emigrants.

At no great distance ahead of us the river-valley made a turn, above
which, westwards and southwards as far as the eye could reach,
stretched a dense underwood. Soon afterwards we descended for the
second time into the river-valley of the Sirorume, designated by the
English as the “brack reeds.” Here for miles both ways the river-bed
is flat, and forms a sort of fen overgrown with rushes. I crossed this
no less than three times, on each occasion finding it very prolific
in puff-adders. Our search for drinking-water proved unavailing, and
as our stock of meal was rapidly diminishing, we felt the necessity
of hurrying on as quickly as possible; but on the 21st we came on the
top of the table-land upon one of those unexpected rain-pools, which I
described in my account of my first journey.

Three days before, I had shot two specimens of the puff-adder
(_Vipera arietans_), each over three feet long, and as thick as
my arm; they had heart-shaped heads, and two very long and crooked
fangs. The scaly skin of this snake varies in colour from yellow to
dark brown, consisting of alternate light and dark bands. It is to
be met with almost everywhere between the sea and the Zambesi, but
is far more abundant in some districts than in others; especially
frequenting places overgrown by thorns, as less liable to be visited
by snake-eagles. Most of the specimens I saw were lying dormant on the
margins of thickets, or on the edges of pathways, coiled round and
round, and flat as a platter; their sluggishness is quite remarkable,
and I noticed more than one in pools of water from which they could
never escape. So sharply are the fangs bent backward, that the
puff-adder does not inflict a wound in the same way as the ordinary
species; it has to turn the front part of its body quite back, lower
its head, and in this position to fling itself at its victim; this it
is capable of doing from a distance of several feet, and I have been a
witness of this mode of attack both in Cape Colony and in Natal.

There is another peculiarity about this kind of adder which has been
noticed particularly in the western parts of Cape Colony. When any
one comes across one of them, his attention is very often attracted
to it in the first instance by the singular noise it makes between
hissing and spitting; and on looking at the creature more closely, he
occasionally finds its body all perforated, and a number of little
snakes issuing from the orifices; it has hence been concluded that
the brood of the puff-adder thus eats its way into the world. For
my own part, I do not concur with this theory, and I would offer an
explanation of the phenomenon, in which I am supported by the testimony
of an eye-witness. I believe that of all the South African snakes, none
more than this is distinguished by devotion to its young; and whenever
danger approaches, I think it inflates itself, and in its agitation
rushes upon its foe with expanded jaws, and, whether designedly or not
I do not say, swallows some portion of its teeming brood. These are
prevented by another inflation of the mother’s jaws from escaping where
they had entered, and so force for themselves an exit where they can.

After descending the Puff-adder heights on the lower Sirorume, we
entered the valley of the Limpopo, known also as the Crocodile River;
the hilly district on the left shore terminated in a woody table-land
to the west, the right shore being quite flat, and enclosed by
prairie-like plains. The river-bed was sandy, and varied from thirty to
ninety feet in width; the bank was steep, and covered with impenetrable
bush or long grass. On the shore I found frequent traces of crocodiles,
and a few of hippopotamuses; in the more open and clayey parts I also
noticed the tracks of lions and leopards. In the adjacent places we
observed indications of the existence of koodoos, pallahs, waterbocks,
bushbocks, hartebeests, gnus, giraffes, and zebras.

On the 22nd we reached the mouth of the Notuany, a river that rises
in the Transvaal, in the western Marico district; it flows only after
very heavy rain, and even then not over the whole of its course, which
is 150 miles long; it is deep, and lies, as it were, in a trench;
ever and again pools occur along its shores, which always contain
fish, and sometimes crocodiles. From the west, the Notuany takes up a
considerable number of sand-rivers. The stream was now flowing, and as
its mouth was much blocked up by reeds, we felt pretty sure that no
crocodiles would have made their way overland to the water, and so we
ventured to enjoy a bath at the ford, which was moderately deep.

On the southern side of the river-mouth we found one of the
“dornveldts” common in the Limpopo valley, a wide tract of rich soil,
densely overgrown with bushes of the _Acacia horrida_, six feet
in height. These are districts which might well rejoice the heart of a
European landowner; but for years to come no doubt they are destined to
lie fallow.

For two days I remained on the banks of the Notuany, finding both in
the animals and plants most interesting material for study. I shot a
grey-horned owl and a carrion kite.

Just as we were approaching the mouth of the Marico, while we were
crossing one of the numerous rain-channels that make their way down,
our axle broke, but we managed to make it hold together till we reached
a farm at no great distance.

I had the good fortune next day to meet with two herds of pallahs.
These creatures appear to range over the whole country, thence to
Central Africa, and hereabouts take the place of the blessbocks of the
southern grass plains.

Our progress began now to be very considerably retarded by the rains;
for some weeks it had been as wet as it was in Shoshong, so that we
had to go through a succession of marshes for nearly half the distance
along the Limpopo and Marico valley, being perpetually unable to find a
dry spot for our encampment at night.

During the morning march of the 26th, our attention was arrested by
a brilliant scene. On the left bank of the Marico, spreading out over
the best half of a large meadow, was a carpet of fiery red, set in a
frame of verdant sward, and enclosed with the dark green foliage of
the mimosa. This spectacle of beauty was caused by masses of flowering
aloes, which sent forth their gorgeous spikes of blossom some three or
four feet above the cluster of prickly leaves. Where the aloes were
thickest, I noticed that they were not unfrequently overhung by a
beautiful sulphur-coloured creeper.

An attack of illness on the 28th made me discontinue our march.
Whether it was the result of my continuous exertions, or the effect
of the miasma of the district, or whether I had taken a chill from
the dampness of the places in which we had camped, I cannot tell,
but certain it was that I found myself quite unable to move, and had
to be lifted out of the waggon; a violent sickness came on, my head
became as heavy as lead, and I was quite incapable of answering the
numerous questions which my friends in their anxiety kept putting to
me. My senses soon quitted me altogether, and for two hours I lay in a
condition of delirium, from which I was only roused by being vigorously
bathed with cold water. Boly sobbed aloud in his distress. F. ran
hither and thither like a madman, and Eberwald showed me such sympathy
and unremitting attention as endeared him to me more than ever.
Recovering my consciousness, I resolved to bleed myself. I was quite
satisfied that no gentler measure could relieve the extreme pressure of
blood on the head. The operation was quite successful, and immediate
relief followed. Nature did the rest, and in three days’ time I had so
far recovered, that we were able to proceed on our way.

Leaving the actual valley of the Marico on the 3rd of March, we crossed
the saddle, and entered a valley intersected by the Bechuana-spruit,
and enclosed on the southern side by the interesting Bertha heights. On
their south-western spurs lies Chwhene-Chwene, the town belonging to
the Batlokas, under Matlapin, their chief; it is situated in Sechele’s
territory, which extends from the mouth of the Sirorume to the Dwars
mountains. In the underwood in the hollow I found some morula-trees
bearing ripe fruit.

As soon as we could on the following day we made our way towards the
town, which was tolerably clean, the farmsteads and huts being larger
and more commodious than those of most Bechuanas; in some cases they
were surrounded by gardens. The fields were sown, but only partially,
with corn, maize, and Kaffir sugar-cane. Just outside the town I
came to a halt, because some of the Batlokas told me that there were
merry-makings going on within, and the Morena was tipsy.

Descending the slope from the table-land, we found several deep holes
in the hard grey limestone containing cool spring water. The view from
the springs was very striking. The thinly-wooded valley in front of us
was several miles in width, and stretched away eastwards to the Marico.
It was bounded on the south by the countless summits of the chain of
the Dwars hills. To the pass by which we crossed these heights, I gave
the name of “Schweinfurth’s Pass,” whilst the next one, further to the
west, I called “Rohlf’s Pass.” From the top of the hills we could see
the first of the farms on the plain; on reaching the bottom, we met a
Boer migrating into the Damara country.

It was satisfactory, on arriving at Brackfontein Farm, to find that
its owner was a smith, and able to repair our broken waggon. His two
sons asked me to join them on a hunting excursion, but I did not feel
myself sufficiently convalescent to accept their invitation, although
the abundance of game in the locality made it very enticing. In the
densely-wooded parts of the Dwars mountains there were gazelles and
koodoo-antelopes, and in the more open parts at the base, and on the
eastern and southern grass-plains were both kinds of gnus, zebras, and
springbocks; other antelopes and ostriches were likewise occasionally
to be seen.

When I left Brackfontein on the 12th, I turned to the south, crossing
the Bushveldt, in order to reach Linokana, the native town in the
Marico highlands.

Without entering into a minute description of the Bushveldt, I may here
simply mention that it is a wooded hill-country, consisting of low
ridges, sandy eminences, and isolated peaks, the soil being covered
with rich grass.

[Illustration: BUISPORT, ROCKY CLEFT IN THE BUSHVELDT.]

I left the district by the Buisport or Buispass, passing the
Markfontein, Sandfontein, and Witfontein farms. Zwart, the owner of the
first of these, bought it for 300_l._; it is of very considerable
size. Zwart had previously been an elephant-hunter, and had visited the
Damara country and the falls of the Zambesi before he settled down to
farming. At a hartebeest-hunt at Sandfontein we met with a Dutchman,
who sold goods on account of Mr. Taylor, the merchant at Sechele.
Although, he only stayed here for a few days in each month, we were
most hospitably entertained by him and his kind old mother.

The Buisport, through which we passed the next morning, is one of the
most charming spots in the Marico highlands; it is traversed by a
spruit, that retains water all through the year in the deep hollows of
its rocky beds. We crossed the spruit several times; the travelling
was very rough, and we had to proceed with the greatest caution, but
all our trouble was amply repaid by the enjoyment of the picturesque
scenery of the glen. Enclosed on every hand by the most diversified
rocks, sometimes wooded, sometimes perpendicular, and sometimes running
in terraces, it presents a prospect singularly attractive.

It likewise offers no little interest to the student of natural
history. Bushbocks, pallahs, klippspringers, apes and baboons, and
some smaller animals of the feline race are amongst the most common
mammals, while leopards, lynxes, and koodoos are by no means rare. The
variety of birds, snakes, insects, and plants is most remarkable. With
the exception of the two kinds of bustard, I found nearly all the birds
that I have hitherto mentioned, and besides these, I saw some quails,
two new species of thrushes, a wryneck and two rollers.

[Illustration: BAHARUTSE DRAWING WATER.]

The plateau upon which we entered at the farther end of the pass
was splendid meadow-land, cultivated in many places. On the east and
west it sloped towards the foot of the Notuany and Zeerust heights. We
followed these hills for some distance in a south-westerly direction,
until we came to the valley of the upper Notuany, that was only
divided by one ridge from the Matebe valley just in front of us, being
cultivated over about half its area. This was a token of the proximity
of Linokana, a Baharutse town, of the agriculture of which I had
already heard very glowing reports.

At the distance of only a few miles from its source the Notuany was
flowing in a deep entrenched bed, across which a few trunks of trees
had been thrown, forming a primitive bridge, over which we had no
alternative but to take our waggon. Once through the valley, we were
at the Linokana hollow, in the centre of which, and extending up its
northern and eastern sides, lay the town of the same name.

The reeds in the Matebe teemed with animal life. Morning and evening
were the best opportunities of watching their movements, but at those
times we could see the grey wild cat creeping stealthily after snipes
and long-tailed cape-finches; the water-lizard lying craftily in wait
for its prey; or occasionally the caracal driven by hunger from its
rocky lair to seek a meal in the security of the reeds of the river-bed.

In the eastern portion of the valley, our attention was directed to a
group of trees near some well-cultivated fields, conspicuous among them
being some eucalyptus, two feet in diameter, and certainly not much
less than sixty feet high. Beneath their shade stood several houses
built in European style. These were the quarters of a missionary, whose
instruction and example have had such a beneficial influence upon the
Baharutse, that they have become the most thriving agriculturists of
all the Transvaal Bechuanas. The name of this missionary is Thomas
Jensen, and he is a representative of the Hermannsburg Society. He
received us most kindly, and introduced me to Moilo (or Moiloa) the
chief, as well as to Chukuru and other chiefs who resided on the hills.
Moilo was a tall, grey-headed man, with hard features, but of a kindly
disposition; he was a faithful vassal of the Transvaal Republic,
considerate for his followers, and in many respects superior to most of
the neighbouring rulers. He introduced me to his sons, none of whom,
however, he considered competent to succeed him as chief; the son of a
relative living in Moshaneng, a scion of the old Bechuana royal family,
being, with his sanction, universally regarded as the rightful heir.

[Illustration: CHUKURU, CHIEF OF THE BAHARUTSE.]

Each of the larger farms in the town possessed a plough, and waggons
could be seen in considerable numbers, standing amidst the cone-shaped
huts. Following Mr. Jensen’s advice, the people have turned the Matebe
springs to good account; not only have they conducted the water into
the town so as to ensure a good supply for domestic purposes, but they
have cut trenches through their fields and orchards, thereby securing
a thorough irrigation. The adult male population, besides paying a
poll-tax of ten shillings to the Transvaal, pledged themselves to
provide a certain number of beasts of burden in times of war. Mr.
Jensen was entrusted with the collection of the tax, but, although he
handed over as much as 400_l._ annually to the Government, he
received no remuneration whatever for his trouble.

In the fields round the mission-building maize and wheat were growing,
and in the gardens adjacent to the dwelling peaches, apricots, pears,
figs, oranges, and citrons were thriving admirably, and, together with
the vegetables, contributed a welcome addition towards the support of
the modest establishment. The little flower-garden revived pleasant
recollections by the abundance of old favourites it contained; there
were roses, both as standards and climbers, irises, lilacs with their
graceful bloom, and carnations with their pleasant fragrance; tulips
and hyacinths had been in bloom, but had now gone off.

[Illustration: BAHARUTSE VILLAGE.

    _Page 419._]

The family life of the missionary beneath the blue-gum trees on the
Matebe was quite idyllic in its peacefulness; nothing could surpass the
excellence of the pattern which it set to the dusky population which
surrounded it. My own pleasure for the time, however, was seriously
damped by the intelligence which Mr. Jensen said he had received from
Zanzibar on good authority, that Livingstone had fallen a victim to
dysentery by the Bangweolo Lake. At the same time he told me that the
companion of Livingstone’s first journey was still alive.

The Baharutse possess large herds of cattle, but the periodic
recurrence of lung-disease is so fatal, that they lose very large
numbers of them.[14]

Linokana (from li = _the_ and nokana = a _little river_),
during the lifetime of Moilo, was called by his name in his honour. As
Karl Mauch has already observed, it is a place where a naturalist may
spend weeks with advantage. With the exception of mammalia, nearly all
kinds of animals abound. The heights (the eastern of which is called
the To, or Elephant hill, and the northern the Po, or Buffalo hill),
as well as the meadows and marshes on the Matebe, and the woods on the
Notuany, exhibit an immense variety of birds, amongst which birds of
prey, long-tailed finches, bee-catchers, green doves, and purple herons
especially predominate.

On the 16th we turned our backs upon the hospitable fields of
Moilo, proceeding southwards towards Zeerust. The next farm of any
considerable extent that we came to was that belonging to Martin Zwart,
whom we found engaged in distilling peach-brandy; he was the owner of
two farms here, and had purchased several others on the frontier, but
nevertheless he was by no means in flourishing circumstances; his love
of hunting had prevented him from ever steadily devoting himself to
farm life and, like many others, he had failed to get on. During the
twenty-one years in which he had been a hunter, he had killed as many
as 294 elephants.

Near the sources of the Notuany I took an excursion up the valley to
Oosthuisen’s farm. He resides in a lovely hollow, with several of his
relations. His property contains a certain quantity of copper ore,
which is collected by the natives, and, after being smelted, is made
into bracelets and other ornaments. He cultivated maize, wheat, and
tobacco, and spent a good deal of his time in tanning skins purchased
from hunters coming back from the interior. Returning by Zwart’s farm,
we proceeded for two hours, and reached Zeerust, the headquarters of
the local government for the Marico district. Though containing little
more than forty houses, the little town possessed a Dutch church,
surrounded by high walls, behind which, during the recent unsettled
state of things, the population sought refuge.

Zeerust is situated on the Little Marico, which wends its way
eastwards through the hills to join the Great Marico. Nearly the whole
of the district is highland, traversed by a multitude of brooks, and
broken by some exceedingly fertile valleys; in comparison with the
rest of the Transvaal, it may be said to be fairly cultivated; a part
of it is covered with mimosas and various kinds of underwood; good
pasturage for cows and horses may be seen almost everywhere. The farms
lie close together, but although garden produce appeared to occupy a
certain amount of attention, it was only in a few instances that we saw
anything like abundance, the farmers, being, as I have said, addicted
to elephant-hunting, and giving all their profits to that expensive
amusement. The prohibition of hunting decreed by the Bechuana chiefs
may probably compel these enthusiasts to stay at home, and by inducing
them to mind their farms, may tend to bring about a more prosperous
condition of the district.

Quitting Zeerust on the 19th, we made our way up the valley of the
Little Marico. After passing several farms in the main valley and
side valleys, and on the slopes, bearing the names of Quarifontein,
Quaggafontein, Kaffirkraal, and Denkfontein, we emerged on to the
Hooge-Veldt (high field), which is one of the most extensive grass
plains on the South African plateau. The Zwart Ruggens (black ridges)
were visible on the east. The plain abounds with game, and forms
the eastern portion of the high land between the Molapo and the
Harts River, where both of them, as well as the Marico and many of
their affluents, take their rise; its subsoil consists of the grey
limestone which I have so frequently mentioned. We only passed two
farms hereabouts, Pitfontein and Witfontein, and these lay in small
depressions that seemed to lead down to the Harts River.

On the 22nd we commenced a gradual descent, and entered the valley
of the Makokspruit, in which the Makokskraal is situated. In this
valley was a farm, the owner of which was a relative of a man whom I
had attended in the diamond-fields. Although they were very poor, the
people were very anxious to treat us hospitably. Next day we came to
the valley of the upper Schoenspruit; the stream was flowing freely,
and all along its shores farm followed farm in close succession.
Between the Schoenspruit and Potchefstroom we had to cross several low
ridges, the south-western spurs of the Hooge Veldt lying parallel to
the Mooi and to the affluents of the Schoen.

I discovered an interesting rocky pass on the first ridge on the way to
Potchefstroom, with walls of quartzite nearly semicircular, and rising
almost perpendicularly. The farm shut in by them was called Klip-port;
another, a little further on, was called Klipfontein, the quartzite
veins in the ferruginous slate being here also quite apparent.

Arrived at Potchefstroom, I carried out my intention of selling two
of my bullocks, as I had come to the end of my resources. Here, too, I
said goodbye to my three companions, two of whom, Eberwald and Boly,
went off to the Lydenburg gold-diggings, trusting to be rewarded with
better fortune than they had found in the diamond-fields.

I travelled thirty-four miles the next day, meeting on my route a large
number of waggons containing emigrants, merchants, and canteen-keepers,
all on their way to Lydenburg, their thirst for gold being now as
ardent as once it had been for diamonds. I halted at Klerksdorp only
till evening, when I hurried on to the Estherspruit. On the 1st of
April I forded the Bamboespruit, and after crossing the Vaal, seventeen
miles below Christiana, at Blignaut’s Pont, I arrived in Dutoitspan on
the 7th.

Of all my curiosities, of which I brought back forty cases closely
packed, I considered my ethnographical specimens, 400 in number, the
most valuable; but in addition to these I had a great collection of
insects, horns, plants, reptiles, skins of quadrupeds and birds,
minerals, skeletons, spiders, crustaceans, mollusks, and fossils.

Although I had succeeded somewhat better than during my former journey
in making a cartographical survey of the route, many obstacles with
which the reader has been made acquainted in the previous pages,
prevented me from making a map as complete as I desired.

       *       *       *       *       *

My pecuniary position was now very much what it had been on my first
appearance in Dutoitspan; to say the truth, it was rather worse,
for immediately on my arrival, an attorney called upon me to fulfil
my obligations with respect to the bond into which I had entered on
behalf of the young man who absconded; and very shortly afterwards I
was obliged to pay off the 117_l._ which had been advanced to me
before starting. My necessities compelled me forthwith to dispose of
the greater portion of my skins and ostrich feathers, and I had to
part with my waggon and team for whatever prices they would fetch. For
a time my difficulties seemed to increase, as it was at least a month
before I could work up anything like a remunerative practice.

I took the smallest of houses, consisting only of a single room, in one
of the side streets: it was built of clay, and had a galvanized iron
roof; there was a shed of the same materials close to its side; and the
whole stood in a little yard containing a well, two sides of which were
blocked up by a stable. For this accommodation I had to pay a rent of
5_l._ a month.

By June, however, I had succeeded in working up so much practice that
I was obliged to keep a saddle-horse, and very shortly had to procure
a chaise and a couple of ponies in addition. The winter of 1874 was
a bad time in the central diggings; the measles broke out, and for
several weeks I had to pay as many as forty visits a day; and, when the
sickness was at its height, the average number was fifty-two.

From the very commencement of the increase in my business, I set about
the preparations for my third and most important journey. I purchased
a new waggon, and gradually got together a team of ten picked oxen.
Offers to accompany me were freely volunteered on all sides, but my
experience made me aware that I could not be too particular in the
choice of my associates. I had a half-caste Cape-servant, Jan Van
Stahl, who soon proved a great comfort to me; he could not only write
both Dutch and English, but very quickly fell into the way of helping
me in my preparation of medicines; he was, moreover, a very excellent
accountant. I made the acquaintance, too, of a young man engaged as
a clerk in one of the stores, who was manifestly superior both in
education and manners to the generality of his order; and having
thoroughly satisfied myself as to the integrity of his character, I
made him the offer of accompanying me. His employers were at that time
relinquishing their business, and he came and resided with me. His name
was Theunissen. He became a good friend, and remained with me more than
a year, until we reached the Zambesi, where he quitted me on account of
his fear of fever.

It was a disappointment to me that Van Stahl’s dread of lions prevented
his going with me; but Pit Dreyer, the shepherd, decided to accompany
me in his place.

Previous to this time, and throughout my stay, the general state of
things in the diggings had been undergoing very considerable change.
More than a quarter of the white population had left, returning
either to the colony, to their homes in the Orange Free State, or to
Europe, except that many of them had migrated to the gold-diggings in
the Transvaal. Much greater care, too, was being bestowed upon the
buildings, iron and wooden, that were being put up in Kimberley.

A great many of the people, moreover, were expressing themselves
dissatisfied with the Governor in a way that led to an open revolt very
soon after my departure.

Since 1872 the diamonds themselves had depreciated in value, although
the “claims” had grown into higher demand, as they were worked with
larger capital and improved machinery.

In November I took a fortnight’s holiday, in anticipation of my
prolonged absence. I went to the Vaal, and pitched my camp at the
mouth of the Harts River, where the time sped rapidly away in
hunting-excursions, and in seeking new materials for my scientific
collection.


                            END OF VOL. I.




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with a short general summary, and a bibliographical appendix. The
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                  _The following are in the press_:--

   =Bacon.= Professor FOWLER, Professor of Logic in Oxford.

   =Berkeley.= Professor T. H. GREEN, Professor of Moral
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   =Hamilton.= Professor MONK, Professor of Moral Philosophy,
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   =Hartley.= } E. S. BOWEN, B.A., late Scholar of New College,
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   =Shaftesbury.= } Professor FOWLER. =Hutcheson.= }

      _Arrangements are in progress for volumes on_ LOCKE, HUME,
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_Episodes of French History._ Edited, with Notes, Genealogical,
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    =4. Francis I. and the Renaissance.=

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_Erema; or, My Father’s Sin._ _See_ BLACKMORE.

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---- _A Strange Friendship._ Crown 8vo, cloth, 5_s._

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_Fern Paradise (The): A Plea for the Culture of Ferns._ By F. G.
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_First Steps in Conversational French Grammar._ By F. JULIEN. Being an
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   =Turkey-in-Asia.= By J. C. MCCOAN, M.P.

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_Froissart (The Boy’s)._ Selected from the Chronicles of England,
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_Games of Patience._ _See_ CADOGAN.

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                        THE GENTLE LIFE SERIES.

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_A Man’s Thoughts._ By J. HAIN FRISWELL.

       *       *       *       *       *

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_Gordon (J. E. H.)._ _See_ “Four Lectures on Electric Induction,”
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_Gouffé. The Royal Cookery Book._ By JULES GOUFFÉ; translated and
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_Great Artists._ _See_ “Biographies.”

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_Great Musicians (The)._ A Series of Biographies of the Great
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    =3. Mendelssohn.= By JOSEPH BENNETT.
    =4. Schubert.= By H. F. FROST.
    =5. Rossini=, and the Modern Italian School. By H. SUTHERLAND
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    =6. Marcello.= By ARRIGO BOITO.
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   ⁂ Dr. Hiller and other distinguished writers, both English and
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_Guizot’s History of France._ Translated by ROBERT BLACK. Super-royal
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---- ---- ---- ---- _Masson’s School Edition._ The History of France
from the Earliest Times to the Outbreak of the Revolution; abridged
from the Translation by Robert Black, M.A., with Chronological Index,
Historical and Genealogical Tables, &c. By Professor GUSTAVE MASSON,
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_Guizot’s History of England._ In 3 vols. of about 500 pp. each,
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_Guyon (Mde.) Life._ By UPHAM. 6th Edition, crown 8vo, 6_s._

_Handbook to the Charities of London. See_ LOW’S.

---- _of Embroidery; which see._

---- _to the Principal Schools of England. See_ Practical.

_Half-Hours of Blind Man’s Holiday; or, Summer and Winter_ Sketches in
Black and White. By W. W. FENN, Author of “After Sundown,” &c. 2 vols.,
cr. 8vo, 24_s._

_Hall (W. W.) How to Live Long; or, 1408 Health Maxims_, Physical,
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_Hans Brinker; or, the Silver Skates. See_ DODGE.

_Harper’s Monthly Magazine._ Published Monthly. 160 pages, fully
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_Heart of Africa._ Three Years’ Travels and Adventures in the
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_Heath (Francis George). See_ “Fern World,” “Fern Paradise,” “Our
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_Heber’s (Bishop) Illustrated Edition of Hymns._ With upwards of 100
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_History and Handbook of Photography._ Translated from the French of
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_History of a Crime (The); Deposition of an Eye-witness._ By VICTOR
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---- _Ancient Art._ Translated from the German of JOHN WINCKELMANN, by
JOHN LODGE, M.D. With very numerous Plates and Illustrations. 2 vols.,
8vo, 36_s._

---- _England._ See GUIZOT.

---- _France._ See GUIZOT.

_History of Russia. See_ RAMBAUD.

---- _Merchant Shipping. See_ LINDSAY.

---- _United States. See_ BRYANT.

_History and Principles of Weaving by Hand and by Power._ With several
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_How I Crossed Africa: from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean_, Through
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_How to Live Long. See_ HALL.

_How to get Strong and how to Stay so._ By WILLIAM BLAIKIE. A Manual of
Rational, Physical, Gymnastic, and other Exercises. With Illustrations,
small post 8vo, 5_s._

_Hugo (Victor)_ “_Ninety-Three_” Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6_s._

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----. _See_ “History of a Crime.”

_Hundred Greatest Men (The)._ 8 portfolios, 21_s._ each, or 4 vols.,
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   =Poganuc People, Their Loves and Lives.= By Mrs. BEECHER STOWE.

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_Macgregor (John) “Rob Roy” on the Baltic._ 3rd Edition, small post
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_Mackenzie (D.) The Flooding of the Sahara._ By DONALD MACKENZIE. 8vo,
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_Macquoid (Mrs.) Elinor Dryden._ Crown 8vo, cloth, 6_s._

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_Magazine. See_ HARPER.

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_Menus (366, one for each day of the year)._ Translated from the French
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_Men of Mark: a Gallery of Contemporary Portraits of the most_ Eminent
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_Music. See_ “Great Musicians.”

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_O’Brien._ _See_ “Parliamentary History” and “Irish Land Question.”

_Old-Fashioned Girl._ _See_ ALCOTT.

_On Horseback through Asia Minor._ By Capt. FRED BURNABY, Royal Horse
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_Painters of All Schools._ By LOUIS VIARDOT, and other Writers. 500
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_Painting (A Short History of the British School of)._ By GEO. H.
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_Palliser (Mrs.) A History of Lace, from the Earliest Period._ A New
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---- _Historic Devices, Badges, and War Cries._ 8vo, 1_l._ 1_s._

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_Parliamentary History of the Irish Land Question (The)._ From 1829
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_Pathways of Palestine: a Descriptive Tour through the Holy Land._ By
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_Petites Leçons de Conversation et de Grammaire: Oral and
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_Phillips (L.) Dictionary of Biographical Reference._ 8vo, 1_l._ 11_s._
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_Photography (History and Handbook of)._ _See_ TISSANDIER.

_Physical Treatise on Electricity and Magnetism._ By J. E. H. GORDON,
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_Plutarch’s Lives._ An Entirely New and Library Edition. Edited by
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_Poems of the Inner Life._ A New Edition, Revised, with many additional
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_Poganuc People: their Loves and Lives._ By Mrs. BEECHER STOWE. Crown
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_Polar Expeditions._ _See_ KOLDEWEY, MARKHAM, MACGAHAN, and NARES.

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_Practical (A) Handbook to the Principal Schools of England._ By C. E.
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_Prejevalsky (N. M.)_ _From Kulja, across the Tian Shan to Lobnor._
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_Primitive Folk Moots; or, Open-Air Assemblies in Britain._ By GEORGE
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_Pyrenees (The)._ By HENRY BLACKBURN. With 100 Illustrations by
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_Recollections of Writers._ By CHARLES and MARY COWDEN CLARKE. Authors
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_Rémusat (Madame de)._ _See_ “Memoirs of.”

_Robinson (Phil)._ _See_ “In my Indian Garden,” “Under the Punkah.”

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_Rogers (S.) Pleasures of Memory._ _See_ “Choice Editions of Choice
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_The Rose Library._ Popular Literature of all countries. Each volume,
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   =1. Sea-Gull Rock.= By JULES SANDEAU. Illustrated.

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   A New Translation by F. E. BUNNETT. Illustrated.

   =10. Draxy Miller’s Dowry, and the Elder’s Wife.= By SAXE HOLM.

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] Within the last few years the competition between the “Union
Steamship Co.” and “Donald Currie and Co.” has reduced the length
of the voyage from Southampton to Cape Town, _viâ_ Madeira, to
eighteen or twenty days.

[2] The Dutch spoken by most of the South African farmers is not pure,
as in Europe; it is a mixture of English, Low-German, French, &c. That,
however, which is spoken by the more educated Dutchmen in Cape Town,
Bloemfontein, and other towns, is for the most part very good.

[3] I use the term “murderous propensity” advisedly, as the cobra is
quite unable to devour what it has thus destroyed.

[4] “Bas,” a lord, a master: “Morena” ruler.

[5] “Look, uncle!”

[6] “The fellows are making off!”

[7] Molapo = river.

[8] Montsua has subsequently done this, and has offered the English
Government the jurisdiction of his territory.

[9] I consider that there are three distinct mountain-groups in Central
South Africa; the Magaliesbergen in the east; the Marico heights in the
west; and the hills in Matabele-land in the north.

[10] According to Mr. Mackenzie, the bathu ba lehuku are “the people of
the word;” the people who receive God’s word.

[11] It was by the Wesleyan Missionary Society that Christianity was
introduced among the Barolongs. At the time of my visit, in 1873,
Moshaneng was the most northerly station; but now that Montsua has
settled in Lo thlakane, there is no station further north than Molema’s
Town. Molema himself is still a preacher. Mr. Webb has left. Mr. Harris
is the present missionary in Lothlakane. The work of the Society has
borne good fruit, inasmuch as it has refined many of the habits of the
Barolongs, induced the rulers to adopt more considerate measures, and
by the introduction of agriculture has done much to raise the social
condition of the natives.

[12] “Master! master! take care, something is running at you!”

[13] Digging forms a conspicuous element in all the Bechuana ceremonies.

[14] In my opinion it is only a strong Government measure and the free
provision of sulphuric acid, to be used diluted, that will be of any
avail to check this disorder, which annually costs a large sum of money
that ought to be saved.

[15] _See also_ Rose Library.


Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.

3. Where appropriate, the original spelling has been retained.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.

5. Bold print is shown as =xxx=.

6. Superscripts are represented using the caret character, e.g. D^r.
or X^{xx}.



*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74281 ***