Seven Years in South Africa/Volume 1/Chapter 9
CHAPTER IX.
FROM MOSHANENG TO MOLOPOLOLE.
The southern part of Moshaneng belonged to Molema and his Barolongs, and (excepting the ruined church and Mr. Martin’s house) contained no buildings in the European style of architecture. The native huts were all of pure Bechuana construction, and owing to the limited space, were packed very closely together, although in the Baharutse quarter, separated by a valley and a stream, the farmsteads were much less crowded. I should estimate the population of the entire town to be about 7000; but out of this number nearly 1000 would be fluctuating, many of the inhabitants working occasionally for lengthened periods at the diamond-fields, or cultivating land at a distance.
The king’s residence stood in the western part near the river-bank, and was surrounded by a courtyard containing two huts apiece for his five wives.
Here, as with not a few of the Bechuana tribes where Christian missionaries have begun to labour, a good proportion of the young people have professed to embrace the new doctrines, while the elders have clung to their heathen institutions. It soon became evident to Montsua that, although circumcision was not uniformly discarded, the young men and young women were reluctant to take part in the accustomed marriage orgies, and that many of the established festivities were very thinly attended. Amongst these ancient ceremonials was a dance known as the reed-dance, performed through the towns by a number of men in procession, blowing with such vehemence upon reed-pipes, that nearly always one or more of them would either drop down dead during the progress, or would subsequently die from the acute emphysema of the lungs brought on by the exertion. With reference to this time-honoured performance, Montsua gave notice that he should only undertake not to interfere with the “bathu ba lehuku,[1] on condition that they all joined in it as heretofore. The dance was ordered by authority, but the converts, instigated by Molema, Montsua’s own brother, refused to obey the king’s injunction. Molema was himself urged on by Yan, the present black Barolong Christian preacher.
Baffled on this occasion, by the advice of his rain-doctor Montsua next required that the followers of the new faith should take parts in two ceremonies connected with rain-magic; first, in the letshulo-hunt, appointed by the rain-doctors for the capture of certain wild animals, parts of which were employed in the incantations; and, secondly, in turning up a plot of ground for the service of the doctors, which was afterwards considered consecrated, and called “tsimo ea pulta,” the garden of the rain. To both these demands the converts again resolutely refused to submit, giving the king to understand that while they were ready to submit to any other proof of their loyalty, since they had become “bathu ba lehuku” their consciences would not allow them to participate in the idolatrous usages of their forefathers.
Again thwarted, the king was driven to devise some other measures for bringing the recusants to obedience; the constitutional form of his government, and the large numbers of the adherents of the new creed both making it difficult to bring the offenders to justice. He soon tried another scheme. On the following Saturday, when both Molema and Yan had gone away into the country, he issued an order, and caused it to be circulated through the town, that no person would be allowed to attend the church on the next day. The women took up the matter; aware that Christianity raised them to an equality with their husbands, they came to the unanimous decision that no notice was to be taken of the king’s order. Accordingly, Sunday came, and at the hour of service not a member of the congregation was absent from his usual place. The king, perhaps, might have heard the singing from his own house; or perhaps there were plenty to inform him what was going on; at any rate, he got into a towering passion, and, seizing a long knife, rushed off to the church, which he entered just as one of the men, in Molema’s absence, was delivering a
BAROLONG WOMEN AT MOSHANENG.
prayer of thanksgiving. His appearance naturally caused no little commotion amongst the worshippers, and in the midst of the excitement, he bellowed out a peremptory order that they should all disperse. One of the women calmly confronted him, and said that the “bathu ba lehuku” must finish their service first. Enraged at the open defiance of his authority, and incensed by the temerity of the woman, he made such vehement and indiscriminate thrusts with his formidable weapon, that he quite succeeded in clearing the building.
Amongst the converts were one of his own daughters and her husband; at first he simply forbade her to leave her own house, but when he ascertained that she was visited there by one of the new community, who joined in hymns and prayers with her, he took her away from her husband, brought her back to his own residence, and obliged her to revert to the heathen custom of wearing nothing but a leather apron.
In course of time, however, as Montsua found that his opposition was of no avail, and discovered, moreover, that the converts not only remained just as faithful subjects as before, but were the most industrious and the most thriving of all his population, he grew weary of his persecution, and subsequently, when he and Molema separated, although he did not himself embrace the new faith, he so far favoured the cause of Christianity as to direct Yan, the Barolong, to continue preaching amongst the surrounding people, and to permit Molema to do the same in his town on the Molapo.[2]
In acknowledgment of some trifling medical services that I had rendered to himself and his household, Montsua presented me with 1l., and with some beautiful ostrich feathers, four black and four white, which he said were for my wife; he looked very incredulous when I told him that I did not possess a wife, and observed that I could keep the feathers until I had one. Besides this, his gratitude was so great that in return for my Snider-rifle he let me have five strong bullocks. By the assistance of Mr. Martin, and another resident merchant, I procured five more, so that with what I retained of my own, I had the satisfactory prospect of continuing my journey with a good team of fourteen.
My stay in Moshaneng was advantageous both to my ethnographical and entomological collections. I obtained a number of curiosities in the way of costumes, kiris, and other weapons, sticks branded with ornamental devices, water-vessels made from ostrich-eges, wooden spoons and platters, and snuff-boxes made of gourd-shells or horn. One way or another, too, including duplicates, I collected as many as 350 insects, amongst which were a new cerambyx, another of the same family with black and yellow bands, and one copper-coloured and two green scarabæidæ. The dry mimosa-hedges seemed to be the favourite resort of two handsome kinds of Longicorn beetles.
When, on the morning of the 18th, I prepared to start, all the great people of Moshaneng turned out to bid me farewell; Montsua and Mr. Martin each bringing me another beautiful white feather. The king insisted on shaking hands with me over and over again, and as the last proof of his regard offered to lend me a guide as far as Molopolole, the residence of the king of the Bakuenas; although the man did not look very strong, I thought it more graceful to accept the offer.
After leaving the town, we turned first north-west, then north, crossing two rivers, the second of which was named the Koluany; we then came to a hilly country, the scenery of which, in beauty, resembled the imposing Makalaka highlands in miniature. The table-land consisted partly of bushwood, and partly of grass-land, interspersed here and there with thinly-wooded districts, and with rocky eminences sometimes eighty feet in height, composed of huge blocks of granite, generally pyramidal in form. The soil near these rugged crags was usually moist, and they were bordered with mimosas, and covered with rich vegetation, amongst which small aloes with their pink and crimson blossoms, stapelias with their dark velvet-like flowers, and cactus-like euphorbiaceæ, with their wondrous shapes, shone pre-eminent, and charmed the eye not only by their intrinsic beauty, but by the profusion in which they grew in every cleft of weather-beaten rock, here peeping out from some dark hollow, and there tightly wedged between two blocks of stone. But no object on these rocky heights was so striking as the sycamores that spread their light-grey roots, now broad and flat, now thick and forked, like a network down the steep sides of the cliff, their succulent stems rising from the crevices frequently to eight or ten feet, and terminating in a crown of handsome foliage. Wood-sorrels, ferns, mosses, and lichens of many kinds were abundant, and I observed several new lepidoptera and beetles; amongst the mammalia there were some small beasts of prey and a great many rock-rabbits. Towards the west, the land sloped towards a brook that, after rain, assumes the dimensions of a river; from Moshaneng it flows north by west, then north-west, and finally due north, when it joins the Molapo. The declivity is steep, and the upper part wooded, and is known to be the resort of Hyæna brunnea and punctata, as well as of the caracal and leopard.
But the extensive highlands are notoriously infested by large numbers of that most dangerous of all the South African beasts of prey, the Canis pictus, also called Lycaon pictus or venaticus, and ordinarily known as “the wild dog.” It is one of the most rapacious and destructive animals on the face of the earth, and is a deadly enemy to all kinds of cattle. Both Montsua and Mr. Martin had warned me to be on my guard against their attacks. “Never let your bullocks graze out at night,” were Montsua’s words to me, “and never let them be unguarded even by day, if you expect to bring many of them to
HYÆNAS AMONG THE CATTLE.
Molopolole.” In size this dreaded animal is about as large as a young wolf, only more slender, and in shape it is a cross between the proteles and hyæna. Always hunting in herds, they are especially dangerous; they attack the larger quadrupeds, oxen, elands, and hartebeests, whilst their ravages amongst sheep, goats, and wild pigs are still more destructive; they are not content with one victim, but seize a second and a third, so that the devastation they make is really frightful. They do not confine their visits to the native territory, but make their way to cultivated lands on the border of the Transvaal. They have their holes underground, and sometimes leave their quarters in winter to range over wider districts, returning in the spring. When they start on their raids, they hold their noses high in the air, and if unsuccessful in discovering a scent, they divide into little groups, and disperse in various directions with their noses down to the surface of the ground. Having found the track of any wild or domestic animal, except the horse, which is too swift for them, the entire pack, yelping and baying, darts off upon the chase with such eager impetuosity, that many of them fall into the bushes, or run foul of rocks and ant-hills. Through being so small, they not unfrequently succeed in getting close to cows or antelopes before they are observed; and whilst the cow may be defending herself by her horns from the assailants in front, two or three of the voracious brutes will be biting at her heels, and as many more at her belly; finding defence hopeless, the unfortunate creature will take to flight; this occasionally succeeds, and cows are from time to time seen reaching their homes in the farmsteads with dreadful wounds all over their bodies; but if they stumble or get seized by the neck or nostrils, or bitten through their knees or in the stomach, so that the bowels protrude, it is all over with them, and they die in the most horrible agonies.
The 18th was spent in crossing the Banquaketse table-land. Everything seemed blooming in the advancing summer, and I did not see a single withered mimosa. Towards sundown we entered the valley of a sand-river, now reduced to a mere rivulet, called the Mosupa, Masupa, or Moshupa; it was said to join the Taung, an affluent of the Notuany. The river-bed and its banks were partially strewn with gigantic blocks of granite that lay in immense flats on the left-hand shore, their upper surfaces being slightly hollowed, forming natural reservoirs. A few hundred yards to the right the stream made a sudden turn to the north-east, and just in the bend rose a fantastic crag connected with two others of inferior height, and formed of huge masses of rock.
As we descended from the high ground towards the valley, some luxuriant woodlands and shrubberies cut off any very distant view, but made some graceful scenery. The setting sun, all aglow, was just resting on the edge of the adjacent table-land, on the east of which the Masupa held its course. As the gorgeous disk became concealed, and a more equal light fell upon the scene, our eyes fell upon an object which drew from us all an involuntary expression of surprise. Had we been anywhere but in the heart of South Africa, we should have concluded at once that we were looking upon some ancient churchyard; what we really saw were the ruins of a town, enclosed by a low stone wall. The guide whom Montsua had sent with us, in giving an account of the place, said that until the last few years it had been occupied by a branch of the Banquaketse, but that the son of the chief Mosilili, named Pilani, who was a friend of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas, had with a number of his dependents left his father’s town and Khatsisive’s territory, and had settled in Sechele’s new district in Molopolole; whereupon Mosilili, an old ally of Khatsisive’s, finding his town half deserted, left the remainder of the residents in the lurch, and took up his abode near Kanya.
During a stroll that I took along the river, I came across some very pretty bits of scenery. The banks were high and thickly clothed with vegetation; and in the stream the slippery boulders, piled one above another, formed little cataracts and natural weirs that future settlers might well utilize, either for turning mills or irrigating meadows. In the thickets on the banks were flocks of horned guinea-fowl (Numida coronata), and in muddy places I saw distinct traces of otters and water-lizards.
At dinner-time we noticed on the over-hanging rocks a number of rock-rabbits, called “dossies” by the Boers. We started off for a chase. These creatures are the smallest of all extant pachydermata, and, on account of being so continually hunted by the natives, are very shy. As long as we kept near the waggon, which was stationed at the ruins, they remained passive enough, either squatting as they watched us from the ledges of rock, or contentedly seeking roots in the bushes, and figs on the sycamores; but no sooner did we approach the foot of the crags, than they bounded away instantly into the nearest crevices.
Whilst Eberwald, F., and Stephan were shooting on the east hill, I made my way to the west, and before long spied out a rock-rabbit that seemed quite unsuspicious of my movements, and was crouching in a melancholy attitude, as if oblivious of all the affairs of itself and the rabbit-world in general. With much caution, and not without many ludicrous tumbles, which caused a good deal of amusement to Pit, who was with me, I scrambled on till I was just within range. Pit wanted me to get nearer; but, assured that my opportunity was now or never, I fired a charge of small shot straight upwards. My aim was perfectly good; the rock-rabbit rolled on to the stem of a sycamore that over-hung the precipice, and fell perpendicularly several feet. We made our way, out of breath, to the foot of the tree, but were doomed to disappointment. Although the ground was all stained with the fresh blood, the creature had disappeared; we searched every nook and crevice, we investigated every corner, but were completely baffled in finding the wounded rabbit.
This Hyrax capensis, if it be not actually the same  | ||
| HUNTING THE ROCK-RABBIT. | Page 306. | |
The cliffs that are steepest, and the crags that are the most rugged, are the favourite resorts of the rock-rabbit. It is not unfrequently found with a little hare, but this resides, ordinarily, more on the surface of the ground than in clefts of any depth. It loves warmth; its chief business of life, after providing itself with food, appears to be basking in the sun; and damp winters, rare though they are on the table-land, and extreme cold, try it severely. In confinement, if it be not allowed plenty of space for moving about, or if it be shut up in any premises that are the least damp, it soon pines away; it is, however, very frequently to be seen in dwelling-houses, tied up by a piece of cord, which it does not attempt to gnaw. The price at which one can be bought varies from two to five shillings.
There is another species of rock-rabbit, one of which, although I saw a specimen, I was never able to procure. It has a foxy-red fur. I saw it in one of the limestone-funnels in the western Transvaal. Besides this, there is a smaller grey sort, found in the wooded districts of the southern part of Cape Colony, in Kaffraria, in Natal, and still further north. Of this I have seen two examples. It is said to have a shrill piping note, and to be very wild, but better able to endure damp than its brother of the woods.
As soon as we had all gathered together again after our little ramble, we made another start. Our road took us across several sandy river-beds, as well as over a great number of rain-trenches, the edges of which were overgrown with fine verdant mimosas. Near one of the trenches, our guide drew our attention to numerous hyæna and leopard-tracks, a hint to be upon our guard, which we did not neglect.
And not without reason. Our bullocks had with much difficulty just effected the passage of the Shutani stream, when the dogs gave tongue  | ||
| THE AFRICAN LYNX. | Page 309. | |
In a moment our attention was fixed upon the direction whence came the sound of an angry barking; another instant and a creature, yellowish in colour, with dark spots, bounded in front of the waggon; a moment more, and it had dashed down the slope. It was a southern lynx, known to the natives as a “thari.” It looked so small, and the dogs, with Onkel at their head, were so close upon its track, that we did not wait to fetch our guns, but joined helter-skelter in the chase, rushing headlong over bushes, rocks, and every obstacle. We had not, however, a very long run; the dogs suddenly came to a halt at a mass of stone deeply embedded in the ground, where a rift about sixteen inches wide formed the entrance to a hole; the dogs stood before the gap and barked vehemently; the thari could be heard spitting savagely out of reach.
We could not spare the time to hunt out the lynx from its retreat, and with great reluctance were obliged to return to the waggon. At night, when we made our camp, I enjoined my people to keep the best look-out they could, and as an additional protection against leopards, I ordered several large fires to be lighted.
It was through thick and leafy underwood that we proceeded on our next day’s journey. We met two women, whose necks and breasts were covered with many strings of beads, their arms and thighs being encircled with rings about as thick as one’s finger, formed also of tiny beads; they were walking, followed by a boy, who was driving a bullock laden with their baggage. By crossing the Koluany we had entered upon the territory of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas, who, with the exception of the two Bamangwato chiefs, owns more land than any of the Bechuana rulers.
Having made the transit of a little stream called the Malih, the bed of which was partly stony and partly sandy, we had to ascend through a forest where the sand was very deep; when we reached the top we could discern a chain of hills in the north, which seemed to be wooded. They were the central portion of the Bakuena heights, and on coming nearer we found that they were joined by another ridge of hills, high up on one of which was a white speck, like a whitewashed European building. Our guide informed us that it belonged to Molopolole, Sechele’s residence. In order to reach the town, which was built on the slope of the range, we had to pass through a wide valley, the bottom of which was occupied by some meagre, ill-cultivated fields.
In the evening we made our camp about the middle of the valley, on a grass plot intersected by the bed of a brook, and near three native villages lying at the foot of a bill. About 300 yards to the east were the heights surrounding Sechele’s villa, which was built several hundred feet above the level of the brook, and at the end of a shallow pass winding up the hills to the north. In close proximity to the villa, which was sheltered by a small rocky eminence, were the offices belonging to the royal household, the kotla, or enclosed conference-hall of the Bakuenas, and the residences of some traders, who were making a temporary stay in the place. Down below, on the edge of the valley, was a native village, also a portion of Molopolole; whilst a third part lay at the foot of the isolated southern ridge that was separated from the extensive northern and eastern chain by a long narrow pass called Kobuque by the natives. At the base of the northern hills, near a part that is fallen into ruins, there was yet another quarter of the town; this was not in the valley, but just outside, adjoining the fields that extended to the south-south-west. A second pass, the rocky entrance of which was called Molopolole, and gave its name to the town, ran from the valley in a northerly direction, and formed the course of the brook that descended from the Bakuena heights. Just where this pass joined the valley stood the mission buildings and the school, the chapel being situated in the upper portion of the town.
- ↑ According to Mr. Mackenzie, the bathu ba lehuku are “the people of the word;” the people who receive God’s word.
- ↑ It was by the Wesleyan Missionary Society that Christianity was introduced among the Barolongs. At the time of my visit, in 1873, Moshaneng was the most northerly station; but now that Montsua has settled in Lothlakane, there is no station further north than Molema’s Town. Molema himself is still a preacher. Mr. Webb has left. Mr. Harris is the present missionary in Lothlakane. The work of the Society has borne good fruit, inasmuch as it has refined many of the habits of the Barolongs, induced the rulers to adopt more considerate measures, and by the introduction of agriculture has done much to raise the social condition of the natives.
- ↑ “Master! master! take care, something is running at you!”