Departure from Linyanti for
Sesheke -- Level Country -- Ant-hills -- Wild Date-trees -- Appearance of
our Attendants on the March -- The Chief's Guard -- They attempt to ride
on Ox-back -- Vast Herds of the new Antelopes, Leches, and Nakongs -- The
native way of hunting them -- Reception at the Villages --
Presents of Beer and Milk -- Eating with the Hand -- The Chief provides
the Oxen for Slaughter -- Social Mode of Eating -- The Sugar-cane --
Sekeletu's novel Test of Character -- Cleanliness of Makololo Huts --
Their Construction and Appearance -- The Beds -- Cross the Leeambye --
Aspect of this part of the Country -- The small Antelope Tianyane unknown
in the South -- Hunting on foot -- An Eland.
Having waited a month at
Linyanti (lat. 18d 17' 20" S., long. 23d 50' 9" E.), we again departed,
for the purpose of ascending the river from Sesheke (lat. 17d 31' 38" S.,
long. 25d 13' E.). To the Barotse country, the capital of which is Nariele
or Naliele (lat. 15d 24' 17" S., long. 23d 5' 54" E.), I went in company
with Sekeletu and about one hundred and sixty attendants. We had most of
the young men with us, and many of the under-chiefs besides. The country
between Linyanti and Sesheke is perfectly flat, except patches elevated
only a few feet above the surrounding level. There are also many mounds
where the gigantic ant-hills of the country have been situated or still
appear: these mounds are evidently the work of the termites. No one who
has not seen their gigantic structures can fancy the industry of these
little laborers; they seem to impart fertility to the soil which has once
passed through their mouths, for the Makololo find the sides of ant-hills
the choice spots for rearing early maize, tobacco, or any thing on which
they wish to bestow especial care. In the parts through which we passed
the mounds are generally covered with masses of wild date-trees; the fruit
is small, and no tree is allowed to stand long, for, having abundance of
food, the Makololo have no inclination to preserve wild fruit-trees;
accordingly, when a date shoots up to seed, as soon as the fruit is ripe
they cut down the tree rather than be at the trouble of climbing it.
The other parts of the more
elevated land have the camel-thorn (`Acacia giraffae'), white-thorned
mimosa (`Acacia horrida'), and baobabs. In sandy spots there are palmyras
somewhat similar to the Indian, but with a smaller seed. The soil on all
the flat parts is a rich, dark, tenacious loam, known as the
"cotton-ground" in India; it is covered with a dense matting of coarse
grass, common on all damp spots in this country. We had the Chobe on our
right, with its scores of miles of reed occupying the horizon there. It
was pleasant to look back on the long-extended line of our attendants, as
it twisted and bent according to the curves of the footpath, or in and out
behind the mounds, the ostrich feathers of the men waving in the wind.
Some had the white ends of ox-tails on their heads, Hussar fashion, and
others great bunches of black ostrich feathers, or caps made of lions'
manes. Some wore red tunics, or various-colored prints which the chief had
bought from Fleming; the common men carried burdens; the gentlemen walked
with a small club of rhinoceros-horn in their hands, and had servants to
carry their shields; while the "Machaka", battle-axe men, carried their
own, and were liable at any time to be sent off a hundred miles
on an errand, and expected to run all the way.
Sekeletu is always
accompanied by his own Mopato, a number of young men of his own age. When
he sits down they crowd around him; those who are nearest eat out of the
same dish, for the Makololo chiefs pride themselves on eating with their
people. He eats a little, then beckons his neighbors to partake. When they
have done so, he perhaps beckons to some one at a distance to take a
share; that person starts forward, seizes the pot, and removes it to his
own companions. The comrades of Sekeletu, wishing to imitate him in riding
on my old horse, leaped on the backs of a number of half-broken Batoka
oxen as they ran, but, having neither saddle nor bridle, the number of
tumbles they met with was a source of much amusement to the rest. Troops
of leches, or, as they are here called, "lechwes", appeared feeding quite
heedlessly all over the flats; they exist here in prodigious herds,
although the numbers of them and of the "nakong" that are killed annually
must be enormous. Both are water antelopes, and, when the lands we now
tread upon are flooded, they betake themselves to the mounds I have
alluded to.
The Makalaka, who are most
expert in the management of their small, thin, light canoes, come gently
toward them; the men stand upright in the canoe, though it is not more
than fifteen or eighteen inches wide and about fifteen feet long; their
paddles, ten feet in height, are of a kind of wood called molompi, very
light, yet as elastic as ash. With these they either punt or paddle,
according to the shallowness or depth of the water. When they perceive the
antelopes beginning to move they increase their speed, and pursue them
with great velocity. They make the water dash away from the gunwale, and,
though the leche goes off by a succession of prodigious bounds, its feet
appearing to touch the bottom at each spring, they manage to spear great
numbers of them.
The nakong often shares a
similar fate. This is a new species, rather smaller than the leche, and in
shape has more of paunchiness than any antelope I ever saw. Its gait
closely resembles the gallop of a dog when tired. The hair is long and
rather sparse, so that it is never sleek-looking. It is of a grayish-brown
color, and has horns twisted in the manner of a koodoo, but much smaller,
and with a double ridge winding round each of them. Its habitat is the
marsh and the muddy bogs; the great length of its foot between the point
of the toe and supplemental hoofs enables it to make a print about a foot
in length; it feeds by night, and lies hid among the reeds and rushes by
day; when pursued, it dashes into sedgy places containing water, and
immerses the whole body, leaving only the point of the nose and ends of
the horns exposed. The hunters burn large patches of reed in order to
drive the nakong out of his lair; occasionally the ends of the horns
project above the water; but when it sees itself surrounded by enemies in
canoes, it will rather allow its horns to be scorched in the burning reed
than come forth from its hiding-place.
When we arrived at any
village the women all turned out to lulliloo their chief. Their shrill
voices, to which they give a tremulous sound by a quick motion of the
tongue, peal forth, "Great lion!" "Great chief!" "Sleep, my lord!" etc.
The men utter similar salutations; and Sekeletu receives all with becoming
indifference. After a few minutes' conversation and telling the news, the
head man of the village, who is almost always a Makololo, rises, and
brings forth a number of large pots of beer. Calabashes, being used as
drinking-cups, are handed round, and as many as can partake of the
beverage do so, grasping the vessels so eagerly that they are in danger of
being broken.
They bring forth also large
pots and bowls of thick milk; some contain six or eight gallons; and each
of these, as well as of the beer, is given to a particular person, who has
the power to divide it with whom he pleases. The head man of any section
of the tribe is generally selected for this office. Spoons not being
generally in fashion, the milk is conveyed to the mouth with the hand. I
often presented my friends with iron spoons, and it was curious to observe
how their habit of hand-eating prevailed, though they were delighted with
the spoons. They lifted out a little with the utensil, then put it on the
left hand, and ate it out of that.
As the Makololo have great
abundance of cattle, and the chief is expected to feed all who accompany
him, he either selects an ox or two of his own from the numerous cattle
stations that he possesses at different spots all over the country,
or is presented by the head men of the villages he visits with as many as
he needs by way of tribute. The animals are killed by a thrust from a
small javelin in the region of the heart, the wound being purposely small
in order to avoid any loss of blood, which, with the internal parts, are
the perquisites of the men who perform the work of the butcher; hence all
are eager to render service in that line.
Each tribe has its own way
of cutting up and distributing an animal. Among the Makololo the hump and
ribs belong to the chief; among the Bakwains the breast is his perquisite.
After the oxen are cut up, the different joints are placed before
Sekeletu, and he apportions them among the gentlemen of the party. The
whole is rapidly divided by their attendants, cut into long strips, and so
many of these are thrown into the fires at once that they are nearly put
out. Half broiled and burning hot, the meat is quickly handed round; every
one gets a mouthful, but no one except the chief has time to masticate.
It is not the enjoyment of
eating they aim at, but to get as much of the food into the stomach as
possible during the short time the others are cramming as well as
themselves, for no one can eat more than a mouthful after the others have
finished. They are eminently gregarious in their eating; and, as they
despise any one who eats alone, I always poured out two cups of coffee at
my own meals, so that the chief, or some one of the principal men, might
partake along with me. They all soon become very fond of coffee; and,
indeed, some of the tribes attribute greater fecundity to the daily use of
this beverage.
They were all well
acquainted with the sugar-cane, as they cultivate it in the Barotse
country, but knew nothing of the method of extracting the sugar from it.
They use the cane only for chewing. Sekeletu, relishing the sweet coffee
and biscuits, of which I then had a store, said "he knew my heart loved
him by finding his own heart warming to my food." He had been visited
during my absence at the Cape by some traders and Griquas, and "their
coffee did not taste half so nice as mine, because they loved his ivory
and not himself." This was certainly an original mode of discerning
character.
Sekeletu and I had each a
little gipsy-tent in which to sleep. The Makololo huts are generally
clean, while those of the Makalaka are infested with vermin. The
cleanliness of the former is owing to the habit of frequently smearing the
floors with a plaster composed of cowdung and earth. If we slept in the
tent in some villages, the mice ran over our faces and disturbed our
sleep, or hungry prowling dogs would eat our shoes and leave only the
soles. When they were guilty of this and other misdemeanors, we got the
loan of a hut.
The best sort of Makololo
huts consist of three circular walls, with small holes as doors, each
similar to that in a dog-house; and it is necessary to bend down the body
to get in, even when on all-fours. The roof is formed of reeds or
straight sticks, in shape like a Chinaman's hat, bound firmly together
with circular bands, which are lashed with the strong inner bark of the
mimosa-tree. When all prepared except the thatch, it is lifted on to the
circular wall, the rim resting on a circle of poles, between each of which
the third wall is built. The roof is thatched with fine grass, and sewed
with the same material as the lashings; and, as it projects far beyond the
walls, and reaches within four feet of the ground, the shade is the best
to be found in the country. These huts are very cool in the hottest day,
but are close and deficient in ventilation by night. The bed is a mat made
of rushes sewn together with twine; the hip-bone soon becomes sore on the
hard flat surface, as we are not allowed to make a hole in the floor to
receive the prominent part called trochanter by anatomists, as we do when
sleeping on grass or sand.
Our course at this time led
us to a part above Sesheke, called Katonga, where there is a village
belonging to a Bashubia man named Sekhosi -- latitude 17d 29' 13",
longitude 24d 33'. The river here is somewhat broader than at Sesheke, and
certainly not less than six hundred yards. It flows somewhat slowly in the
first part of its eastern course. When the canoes came from Sekhosi to
take us over, one of the comrades of Sebituane rose, and, looking to
Sekeletu, called out, "The elders of a host always take the lead in an
attack." This was understood at once; and Sekeletu, with all the young
men, were obliged to give the elders the precedence, and remain on the
southern bank and see that all went orderly into the canoes. It took a
considerable time to ferry over the whole of our large party, as, even
with quick paddling, from six to eight minutes were spent in the mere
passage from bank to bank.
Several days were spent in
collecting canoes from different villages on the river, which we now
learned is called by the whole of the Barotse the Liambai or Leeambye.
This we could not ascertain on our first visit, and, consequently, called
the river after the town "Sesheke". This term Sesheke means "white
sand-banks", many of which exist at this part. There is another village in
the valley of the Barotse likewise called Sesheke, and for the same
reason; but the term Leeambye means "the large river", or the river PAR
EXCELLENCE. Luambeji, Luambesi, Ambezi, Ojimbesi, and Zambesi, etc., are
names applied to it at different parts of its course, according to the
dialect spoken, and all possess a similar signification, and express the
native idea of this magnificent stream being the main drain of the
country.
In order to assist in the
support of our large party, and at the same time to see the adjacent
country, I went several times, during our stay, to the north of the
village for game. The country is covered with clumps of beautiful trees,
among which fine open glades stretch away in every direction; when the
river is in flood these are inundated, but the tree-covered elevated spots
are much more numerous here than in the country between the Chobe and the
Leeambye. The soil is dark loam, as it is every where on spots reached by
the inundation, while among the trees it is sandy, and not covered so
densely with grass as elsewhere. A sandy ridge covered with trees, running
parallel to, and about eight miles from the river, is the limit of the
inundation on the north; there are large tracts of this sandy forest in
that direction, till you come to other districts of alluvial soil and
fewer trees. The latter soil is always found in the vicinity of rivers
which either now overflow their banks annually, or formerly did so. The
people enjoy rain in sufficient quantity to raise very large supplies of
grain and ground-nuts.
This district contains
great numbers of a small antelope named Tianyane, unknown in the south. It
stands about eighteen inches high, is very graceful in its movements, and
utters a cry of alarm not unlike that of the domestic fowl; it is of a
brownish-red color on the sides and back, with the belly and lower part of
the tail white; it is very timid, but the maternal affection that the
little thing bears to its young will often induce it to offer battle even
to a man approaching it. When the young one is too tender to run about
with the dam, she puts one foot on the prominence about the seventh
cervical vertebra, or withers; the instinct of the young enables it to
understand that it is now required to kneel down, and to remain quite
still till it hears the bleating of its dam.
If you see an otherwise
gregarious she-antelope separated from the herd, and going alone any
where, you may be sure she has laid her little one to sleep in some cozy
spot. The color of the hair in the young is better adapted for
assimilating it with the ground than that of the older animals, which do
not need to be screened from the observation of birds of prey. I observed
the Arabs at Aden, when making their camels kneel down, press the thumb on
the withers in exactly the same way the antelopes do with their young;
probably they have been led to the custom by seeing this plan adopted by
the gazelle of the Desert.
Great numbers of buffaloes,
zebras, tsessebes, tahaetsi, and eland, or pohu, grazed undisturbed on
these plains, so that very little exertion was required to secure a fair
supply of meat for the party during the necessary delay. Hunting on foot,
as all those who have engaged in it in this country will at once admit, is
very hard work indeed. The heat of the sun by day is so great, even in
winter, as it now was, that, had there been any one on whom I could have
thrown the task, he would have been most welcome to all the sport the toil
is supposed to impart. But the Makololo shot so badly, that, in order to
save my powder, I was obliged to go myself.
We shot a beautiful
cow-eland, standing in the shade of a fine tree. It was evident that she
had lately had her calf killed by a lion, for there were five long deep
scratches on both sides of her hind-quarters, as if she had run to the
rescue of her calf, and the lion, leaving it, had attacked herself, but
was unable to pull her down. When lying on the ground, the milk flowing
from the large udder showed that she must have been seeking the shade,
from the distress its non-removal in the natural manner caused. She was a
beautiful creature, and Lebeole, a Makololo gentleman who accompanied me,
speaking in reference to its size and beauty, said, "Jesus ought to have
given us these instead of cattle." It was a new, undescribed variety of
this splendid antelope. It was marked with narrow white bands across the
body, exactly like those of the koodoo, and had a black patch of more than
a handbreadth on the outer side of the fore-arm. |