Lake Ngami/Chapter 21
CHAPTER XXI.
We were now in the depth of the rainy season. Rain, as already said, rarely falls in the neighborhood of Walfisch Bay; but the gathering of heavy clouds in the eastern horizon every afternoon, and vivid flashes of lightning accompanied by distant thunder, clearly indicated that the interior of the country had been flooded. We had soon a proof of this in the sudden appearance of the long-dormant Kuisip River, which, now swollen to an unusual height, overflowed its banks, and threatened destruction to every thing that opposed its course.
This overflow was equally great in the Swakop, in the lower course of which our cattle were stationed under the charge of John Allen. One fine morning, and without the least previous notice, down came the torrent, and cut him off from the greater number of the animals, which were grazing on the opposite bank. He was an expert swimmer, however, and, boldly plunging into the swollen stream, with difficulty and danger succeeded in crossing. But no sooner had he gained the bank than the river rushed forward with tenfold velocity, and effectually separated him from the camp. Two days and a night elapsed before the water had sufficiently subsided to enable him to return. The sufferings of the poor lad meanwhile must have been very trying, for he was in a state of complete nudity; and, though he had abundance of fuel, he had no means of lighting a fire. Lions and hyænas, moreover, were numerous, and, to add to his misery, the oxen strayed during the night in different directions. In re-collecting them the following day, he had to cross the most rugged and jagged rocks, and precipices, and scorching fields of sand, which severely lacerated and blistered his unprotected feet. Most men, I venture to say, under such circumstances, would have left the cattle to their fate.
As soon as the swollen Kuisip had sufficiently subsided, and the emaciated state of the oxen permitted, I returned from the Bay to Scheppmansdorf. Hans had not been idle during my absence. He had put the wagon in complete order, having replaced the axle-tree (which, in our journey from Barmen, had received a serious fracture) with a new one, and shortened the tires of the wheels. He had also made a new covering for the vehicle. I, too, had made considerable progress with regard to the arrangements and preparations for my intended journey. However, on taking a more close survey of my little property, I found that, notwithstanding Mr. Galton had furnished me with a variety of things, I was very deficient in the most important, such as articles for barter, presents for chiefs, instruments for taking observations, provisions, &c. As none of these were procurable by purchase from the vessel then in Walfisch Bay, I was placed in an awkward position. To proceed without ample supplies of all kinds was not advisable, nor did I much relish the idea of returning to the Cape—the nearest point for a refit—since this could only be accomplished by an overland journey of many months' duration, and the consequent loss of an entire season. Yet, after duly weighing the matter, I determined, though with no small regret, to adopt the latter course.
I now entered into partnership with Hans, who, on his side, threw into the general stock goods, &c., to the amount of about one hundred and fifty pounds sterling.
It was agreed between us that we should barter our wagons, as also every article we could possibly dispense with, for cattle, with which we should proceed to the Cape Colony, where we understood live-stock always commanded a ready market. When we should have turned the cattle into cash, and provided ourselves with every thing needful, we purposed forthwith returning to Walfisch Bay; I with a view of penetrating to the Lake Ngami, while Hans, in my absence, was to trade with the natives. Should he be successful, my share of the profits would materially aid me in following up my geographical explorations, which, I was aware, would be attended with considerable expense.
Though our stay at Scheppmansdorf and Walfisch Bay had been of some duration, it was not sufficiently long to enable the oxen to recover their strength. They had not suffered actual want, but the change of pasturage, more especially as the grass was then young and green, instead of benefiting them, had rather tended to deteriorate their condition. Indeed, more than half of our best draft-oxen died.
The country being at length in tolerable order for traveling, we once more, on the afternoon of the 26th of January, took our departure from Scheppmansdorf, keeping the same course as on previous occasions. Besides myself and Hans, our party consisted of John Allen, John St. Helena, Phillippus, Onesimus, and a few Damaras.
The effect of the late rains began soon to show itself, for even the barren Naarip was in places richly carpeted with grass and flowers, and at every step the vegetation became more luxuriant. As evening, with its lengthened shadows, began to close upon us, the air was filled with balmy and aromatic scents. One little flower, of a milk-white color, was particularly sweet and attractive. I could scarcely realize the wonderful change in the landscape, where, less than a month previously, I might have exclaimed,
"Still the same burning sun! no cloud in heaven!
The hot air quivers; and the sultry mist
Floats o'er the desert with a show
Of distant waters."
The presence of herds of the beautiful oryx, the lively quagga, and the grotesque gnoo, which looked like
"Beasts of mixed and monstrous birth,
Creations of some fabled earth,"
served further to enhance the interest of the scene.
These were glorious times for the lions, who were exceedingly numerous. On passing Tineas and Onanis, both famous strongholds for this animal, we started troops of them among the broken ground, but they invariably ran away, and all my efforts to get a shot at them were unavailing.
One day, while refreshing ourselves and cattle in the midst of a scene like that just described, the men being busy cutting up, or "dressing," as butchers would say, two fine oryxes, the produce of the morning hunt, we were suddenly surrounded by a cloud of kites. The actions of these birds were most strange. Hovering within a few feet of our heads, they eyed us steadily for a while, and then took themselves off as if satisfied. Another batch would now approach so near that, in order to avoid coming in contact with us, they threw themselves on their backs, spreading out their wings and talons, and opening their beaks, while one or two actually, with a swoop, snatched the food out of the hands of the natives. It was only after having brought down several with the rifle that the rest thought best to keep at a more respectful distance.[1]
This day, and during the whole of the following, we encountered myriads of lemon-colored butterflies. Their numbers were so great that the sound caused by their wings resembled the distant murmuring of waves on the sea-shore. They always passed in the same direction as the wind blew, and, as numbers were constantly alighting on the flowers, their appearance at such times was not unlike the falling of leaves before a gentle autumnal breeze.
Every day, at the halting-place, we were in the habit of training some oxen to the "pack" or the saddle. One of the animals particularly captivated my fancy, and I was desirous of having him well broken-in. After a little time, however, I learned that no person dared any longer to approach the beast. On inquiring the cause, I found that a large ox had taken it under his protection, so to speak, and would allow no one to go near it. Whenever the servants attempted to catch the protégé, his protector would rush at them furiously; and my favorite was so well aware of this, that as soon as he saw any one approaching, he would run directly to his "father," as the natives not inaptly styled the big ox. After having personally convinced myself of this singular attachment, and dreading that some serious mischief might ensue, I deemed it prudent to kill my poor pet. For many days the "father" appeared inconsolable at his loss. Running wildly about the herd, and smelling first at one and then at the other, he would moan and bellow most piteously. This is another proof of the strong attachment of which the lower animals are capable. I may add that I have frequently seen a sheep, when the butcher has been in the act of killing its comrade, run up to the man and butt at him most viciously.
On the 5th of February we found ourselves again at Richterfeldt. Mrs. Rath, I was sorry to find, was suffering grievously from eye-sickness, so much so that she was unable to bear the least light. Indeed, not long after, the sight of one of her eyes was permanently injured, if not destroyed.
Here I and Hans separated. While he went into Damara-land to trade with the natives, I myself proceeded along the Swakop with the wagon. We had only one, the other having already been disposed of at Eikhams. The river was still running breast high, and we experienced much difficulty in crossing and recrossing it. One evening, just as we were descending the bank, from which the flood had only lately receded, the vehicle suddenly sank so deep in the mud as almost to hide the fore wheels. Before we could extricate ourselves, which was a work of many hours, we were obliged to dig a deep trench and pave it with stones.
In the afternoon of the 11th of February I reached Barmen, where on the following day I was joined by Hans. He had not been very successful, and, moreover, nearly got into a scrape with the natives. Having one day gone some distance in advance of his small party, he suddenly, at the turn of a hill, came upon some women and children, who, notwithstanding his friendly assurances, ran off in great fright to the werft, which was not far distant, screaming vociferously. The men, thinking that they were about to be attacked by the Namaquas, instantly rushed to arms; and Hans, on coming in view of the village, unexpectedly found himself in the presence of several hundred Damaras, each armed with a huge assegai. Placing his gun against a tree, he walked quietly in the midst of them. His coolness so surprised and amazed them, that the forest of bristling spears, poised in the air ready to strike, were instantaneously lowered. The men, however, continued their yells and shouts for some time, and it was not until his interpreter had arrived that he was able to set their minds at rest as to his peaceable intentions.
The effect often produced on savages by the self-possession of a single European is truly wonderful. If Hans had evinced the smallest sign of fear or hesitation, his fate probably would have been sealed.
I remember, not long after this took place, to have been journeying with fifty or sixty Damaras, accompanied only by my native interpreter, when the chief of the party next to whom I was walking turned sharply round and abruptly accosted me in the following manner: "How is it that you venture to go thus alone among us? We might easily kill you at any time." Without a moment's hesitation I replied, "I neither fear you nor any other people, and simply because I never injured you. You, on the other hand, are perpetually robbing and killing your neighbors, and, consequently, you have to dread the revenge of their friends and relations. Besides," I jokingly added, "it is not quite so easy as you may imagine to pull 'three hairs out of a lion's tail.'" This was exactly hitting the nail on the head; for, if they had previously thought my argument good, they were now amazingly pleased with the jest.
We were delayed some little time at Barmen in consequence of heavy rains that now almost daily deluged the country. It was during this stay that the remarkable thunder-storm occurred—mentioned in a preceding chapter—which caused such havoc among the native gardens.
One day, while endeavoring to secure properly a young ox, he broke loose, and, though almost the whole village turned out to assist us, we were unable to recapture the animal. When an ox thus made off, we usually caused three or four of the steadiest of his comrades to be driven after him, or we put some good runners on his track. By the cattle or the men keeping up a steady pace, they would soon exhaust the refractory animal, and quietly bring him back to the camp. In this instance, Karnarute, perhaps the fleetest man in Damara-land, was sent in pursuit.
While abiding his return I indulged in a warm bath, and, just as I had finished my ablutions, I observed him coming back with the runaway. As the animal, however, was not proceeding in exactly the required direction, I placed myself in his path for the purpose of turning him. But as he heeded not my presence, and kept his own course, the result was that he caught me with his horns near the ribs, and pitched me bodily over his back! With the exception of being a good deal shaken, however, I singularly enough escaped unhurt. But one of our native servants was less fortunate; for on trying, like myself, to stay the ox in his headlong career, the poor fellow was thrown to the ground by the exasperated brute, who actually knelt on his body, and in all probability would have killed him had not the rest of the people come to his assistance. This accident taught us to be more careful in our future proceedings with an over-driven ox.
On leaving Barmen, we were obliged to make a considerable détour in order to avoid the "Great" Swakop, which continued to send down immense torrents of discolored water. In crossing one of its branches, known as the "Little" Swakop, our cattle were more than once swept away by the violence of the current, and our wagon had a very narrow escape from being capsized. When half way across the stream it stuck fast, and for upward of four hours all our efforts to extricate it proved ineffectual. During the whole of this time we were immersed up to our necks in water, which hourly increased. What with the velocity of the current, the depth of the river, and the looseness of the soil beneath, we were unable to obtain a firm footing, and men, oxen, and dogs were frequently jumbled together in the most awkward confusion. After almost superhuman exertions, having previously been obliged to remove all the heavy things from the vehicle, we succeeded in reaching the shore in safety. Here again, to our dismay, we found our path barred by immense blocks of stone and the roughness of the ground in general along the bank. We had no alternative but to retrace our steps and recross the river at a more convenient point, which we successfully accomplished on the following morning, when the water had somewhat subsided.
Hence we traveled about northeast, alternately in the bed and on the banks of a tributary to the Swakop. On reaching the foot of that picturesque chain of mountains extending in a northerly direction from Eikhams toward Schmelen's Hope, where it terminates rather abruptly, we encountered great numbers of the oryx, which afforded us excellent sport.
- ↑ Several well-known Australian explorers make mention of similar occurrences with this identical bird. I have also heard that in India it is no unusual thing to see hawks snatch the food from a person as he travels along.