Seven Years in South Africa/Volume 1/Chapter 5
CHAPTER V.
FROM LIKATLONG TO WONDERFONTEIN.
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 go 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 he partly in the valley and partly on the hill-sides, 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.
NESTS OF WEAVER-BIRDS.
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 mto 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 court-yard 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 hill-side 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.
Next morning, after purchasing some gourds from the owner of one of the farms, we pushed on still to  | ||
| BATLAPINS ON A JOURNEY. | Page 126. | |
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.”
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 | ||
| ACCIDENT IN THE HARTS RIVER VALLEY. | Page 129. | |
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 sugarcane, if he is not dead already.”[1]
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-thoris. 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.
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 shovld 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 goat-skins.
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 cur 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, sect 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 hight 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 lhght 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 farm-steads 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 stréams 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 litile 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 lves 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 shipping 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 tableland 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 salt-pan, 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 berd 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 spring-bocks; 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.
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 salt-pan 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 midday 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 moorhens, 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 athand. 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 tradespeople 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. Rensberg, 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. 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 hfe. 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  | ||
| RETURN FROM THE GNU HUNT. | Page 155. | |
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 fight. 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.
Hoping still to succeed with the gnus, I went  | ||
| STARTLED BY A HERD OF BLACK GNUS. | Page 156. | |
While they were making their second circle I took aim at an animal that seemed to be about half crown. 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 tbe 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 oame 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 “blue-bush.”
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. Hach house had its garden, with peaches andorange-trees, and the hedges were madeof 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 détours, 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 fohage of the eucalyptus, to the pointed shoots of the arbor vite, 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.
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.
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
FUNNEL-SHAPED CAVITY IN ROCKS.
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, won, and silver.
It was on the third day after leaving Potchefstroom that we arrived at Wonderfontem. 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 he along the valley of the Mooi River. The farmhouses 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.
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 1l. 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 but 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 I 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. Ihave 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 longtailed 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 “wonderljike 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.
- ↑ ‘Bas,” a lord, a master: “Morena” ruler.