Increasing Beauty of the
Country -- Mode of spending the Day -- The People and the Falls of Gonye
-- A Makololo Foray -- A second prevented, and Captives delivered up --
Politeness and Liberality of the People -- The Rains -- Present of Oxen --
The fugitive Barotse -- Sekobinyane's Misgovernment -- Bee-eaters and
other Birds -- Fresh-water Sponges -- Current -- Death from a Lion's Bite
at Libonta -- Continued Kindness -- Arrangements for spending the Night
during the Journey -- Cooking and Washing -- Abundance of animal Life --
Different Species of Birds -- Water-fowl -- Egyptian Geese -- Alligators
-- Narrow Escape of one of my Men -- Superstitious Feelings respecting the
Alligator -- Large Game -- The most vulnerable Spot -- Gun Medicine -- A
Sunday -- Birds of Song -- Depravity; its Treatment -- Wild Fruits --
Green Pigeons -- Shoals of Fish -- Hippopotami.
30TH OF NOVEMBER, 1853. At
Gonye Falls. No rain has fallen here, so it is excessively hot. The trees
have put on their gayest dress, and many flowers adorn the landscape, yet
the heat makes all the leaves droop at midday and look languid for want of
rain. If the country increases as much in beauty in front as it has done
within the last four degrees of latitude, it will be indeed a lovely land.
We all felt great lassitude
in traveling. The atmosphere is oppressive both in cloud and sunshine. The
evaporation from the river must be excessively great, and I feel as if the
fluids of the system joined in the general motion of watery vapor upward,
as enormous quantities of water must be drunk to supply its place. When
under way our usual procedure is this: We get up a little before five in
the morning; it is then beginning to dawn. While I am dressing, coffee is
made; and, having filled my pannikin, the remainder is handed to my
companions, who eagerly partake of the refreshing beverage. The servants
are busy loading the canoes, while the principal men are sipping the
coffee, and, that being soon over, we embark. The next two hours are the
most pleasant part of the day's sail. The men paddle away most vigorously;
the Barotse, being a tribe of boatmen, have large, deeply-developed chests
and shoulders, with indifferent lower extremities. They often engage in
loud scolding of each other in order to relieve the tedium of their work.
About eleven we land, and eat any meat which may have remained from the
previous evening meal, or a biscuit with honey, and drink water.
After an hour's rest we
again embark and cower under an umbrella. The heat is oppressive, and,
being weak from the last attack of fever, I can not land and keep the camp
supplied with flesh. The men, being quite uncovered in the sun, perspire
profusely, and in the afternoon begin to stop, as if waiting for the
canoes which have been left behind. Sometimes we reach a sleeping-place
two hours before sunset, and, all being troubled with languor, we gladly
remain for the night. Coffee again, and a biscuit, or a piece of coarse
bread made of maize meal, or that of the native corn, make up the bill of
fare for the evening, unless we have been fortunate enough to kill
something, when we boil a potful of flesh. This is done by cutting it up
into long strips and pouring in water till it is covered. When that is
boiled dry, the meat is considered ready.
The people at Gonye carry
the canoes over the space requisite to avoid the falls by slinging them on
poles tied on diagonally. They place these on their shoulders, and,
setting about the work with good humor, soon accomplish the task. They are
a merry set of mortals; a feeble joke sets them off in a fit of laughter.
Here, as elsewhere, all petitioned for the magic lantern, and, as it is a
good means of conveying instruction, I willingly complied.
The falls of Gonye have not
been made by wearing back, like those of Niagara, but are of a fissure
form. For many miles below, the river is confined in a narrow space of not
more than one hundred yards wide. The water goes boiling along, and gives
the idea of great masses of it rolling over and over, so that even the
most expert swimmer would find it difficult to keep on the surface. Here
it is that the river, when in flood, rises fifty or sixty feet in
perpendicular height.
The islands above the falls
are covered with foliage as beautiful as can be seen any where. Viewed
from the mass of rock which overhangs the fall, the scenery was the
loveliest I had seen. Nothing worthy of note occurred on our way up to
Nameta. There we heard that a party of the Makololo, headed by Lerimo, had
made a foray to the north and up the Leeba, in the very direction in which
we were about to proceed. Mpololo, the uncle of Sekeletu, is considered
the head man of the Barotse valley; and the perpetrators had his full
sanction, because Masiko, a son of Santuru, the former chief of the
Barotse, had fled high up the Leeambye, and, establishing himself there,
had sent men down to the vicinity of Naliele to draw away the remaining
Barotse from their allegiance.
Lerimo's party had taken
some of this Masiko's subjects prisoners, and destroyed several villages
of the Balonda, to whom we were going. This was in direct opposition to
the policy of Sekeletu, who wished to be at peace with these northern
tribes; and Pitsane, my head man, was the bearer of orders to Mpololo to
furnish us with presents for the very chiefs they had attacked. Thus we
were to get large pots of clarified butter and bunches of beads, in
confirmation of the message of peace we were to deliver.
When we reached Litofe, we
heard that a fresh foray was in contemplation, but I sent forward orders
to disband the party immediately. At Ma-Sekeletu's town we found the head
offender, Mpololo himself, and I gave him a bit of my mind, to the effect
that, as I was going with the full sanction of Sekeletu, if any harm
happened to me in consequence of his ill-advised expedition, the guilt
would rest with him. Ma-Sekeletu, who was present, heartily approved all I
said, and suggested that all the captives taken by Lerimo should be
returned by my hand, to show Masiko that the guilt of the foray lay not
with the superior persons of the Makololo, but with a mere servant. Her
good sense appeared in other respects besides, and, as this was exactly
what my own party had previously resolved to suggest, we were pleased to
hear Mpololo agree to do what he was advised. He asked me to lay the
matter before the under-chiefs of Naliele, and when we reached that place,
on the 9th of December, I did so in a picho, called expressly for the
purpose.
Lerimo was present, and
felt rather crestfallen when his exploit was described by Mohorisi, one of
my companions, as one of extreme cowardice, he having made an attack upon
the defenseless villagers of Londa, while, as we had found on our former
visit, a lion had actually killed eight people of Naliele without his
daring to encounter it.
The Makololo are cowardly
in respect to animals, but brave against men. Mpololo took all the guilt
upon himself before the people, and delivered up a captive child whom his
wife had in her possession; others followed his example, till we procured
the release of five of the prisoners. Some thought, as Masiko had tried to
take their children by stratagem, they ought to take his by force, as the
two modes suited the genius of each people -- the Makalaka delight in
cunning, and the Makololo in fighting; and others thought, if Sekeletu
meant them to be at peace with Masiko, he ought to have told them so.
It is rather dangerous to
tread in the footsteps of a marauding party with men of the same tribe as
the aggressors, but my people were in good spirits, and several volunteers
even offered to join our ranks. We, however, adhered strictly to the
orders of Sekeletu as to our companions, and refused all others.
The people of every village treated us most liberally, presenting, besides
oxen, butter, milk, and meal, more than we could stow away in our canoes.
The cows in this valley are now yielding, as they frequently do, more milk
than the people can use, and both men and women present butter in such
quantity that I shall be able to refresh my men as we move along.
Anointing the skin prevents the excessive evaporation of the fluids of the
body, and acts as clothing in both sun and shade. They always made their
presents gracefully. When an ox was given, the owner would say, "Here is a
little bit of bread for you." This was pleasing, for I had been accustomed
to the Bechuanas presenting a miserable goat, with the pompous
exclamation, "Behold an ox!" The women persisted in giving me copious
supplies of shrill praises, or "lullilooing"; but, though I frequently
told them to modify their "great lords" and "great lions" to more humble
expressions, they so evidently intended to do me honor that I could not
help being pleased with the poor creatures' wishes for our success.
The rains began while we
were at Naliele; this is much later than usual; but, though the Barotse
valley has been in need of rain, the people never lack abundance of food.
The showers are refreshing, but the air feels hot and close; the
thermometer, however, in a cool hut, stands only at 84 Deg. The access of
the external air to any spot at once raises its temperature above 90 Deg.
A new attack of fever here caused excessive languor; but, as I am already
getting tired of quoting my fevers, and never liked to read travels myself
where much was said about the illnesses of the traveler, I shall
henceforth endeavor to say little about them.
We here sent back the canoe
of Sekeletu, and got the loan of others from Mpololo. Eight riding oxen,
and seven for slaughter, were, according to the orders of that chief, also
furnished; some were intended for our own use, and others as presents to
the chiefs of the Balonda. Mpololo was particularly liberal in giving all
that Sekeletu ordered, though, as he feeds on the cattle he has in charge,
he might have felt it so much abstracted from his own perquisites. Mpololo
now acts the great man, and is followed every where by a crowd of toadies,
who sing songs in disparagement of Mpepe, of whom he always lived in fear.
While Mpepe was alive, he
too was regaled with the same fulsome adulation, and now they curse him.
They are very foul-tongued; equals, on meeting, often greet each other
with a profusion of oaths, and end the volley with a laugh.
In coming up the river to
Naliele we met a party of fugitive Barotse returning to their homes, and,
as the circumstance illustrates the social status of these subjects of the
Makololo, I introduce it here. The villagers in question were the
children, or serfs, if we may use the term, of a young man of the same age
and tribe as Sekeletu, who, being of an irritable temper, went by the
nickname of Sekobinyane -- a little slavish thing. His treatment of his
servants was so bad that most of them had fled; and when the Mambari came,
and, contrary to the orders of Sekeletu, purchased slaves, Sekobinyane
sold one or two of the Barotse children of his village. The rest fled
immediately to Masiko, and were gladly received by that Barotse chief as
his subjects.
When Sekeletu and I first
ascended the Leeambye, we met Sekobinyane coming down, on his way to
Linyanti. On being asked the news, he remained silent about the loss of
his village, it being considered a crime among the Makololo for any one to
treat his people so ill as to cause them to run away from him. He then
passed us, and, dreading the vengeance of Sekeletu for his crime, secretly
made his escape from Linyanti to Lake Ngami. He was sent for, however, and
the chief at the lake delivered him up, on Sekeletu declaring that he had
no intention of punishing him otherwise than by scolding. He did not even
do that, as Sekobinyane was evidently terrified enough, and also became
ill through fear.
The fugitive villagers
remained only a few weeks with their new master Masiko, and then fled back
again, and were received as if they had done nothing wrong. All united in
abusing the conduct of Sekobinyane, and no one condemned the fugitives;
and the cattle, the use of which they had previously enjoyed, never having
been removed from their village, they re-established themselves with
apparent gladness.
This incident may give some
idea of the serfdom of the subject tribes, and, except that they are
sometimes punished for running away and other offenses, I can add nothing
more by way of showing the true nature of this form of servitude.
Leaving Naliele, amid
abundance of good wishes for the success of our expedition, and hopes that
we might return accompanied with white traders, we began again our ascent
of the river. It was now beginning to rise, though the rains had but just
commenced in the valley. The banks are low, but cleanly cut, and seldom
sloping. At low water they are from four to eight feet high, and make the
river always assume very much the aspect of a canal. They are in some
parts of whitish, tenacious clay, with strata of black clay intermixed,
and black loam in sand, or pure sand stratified. As the river rises it is
always wearing to one side or the other, and is known to have cut across
from one bend to another, and to form new channels. As we coast along the
shore, pieces which are undermined often fall in with a splash like that
caused by the plunge of an alligator, and endanger the canoe.
These perpendicular banks
afford building-places to a pretty bee-eater, [Merops apiaster' and `M.
bullockoides' (Smith)] which loves to breed in society. The face of the
sand-bank is perforated with hundreds of holes leading to their nests,
each of which is about a foot apart from the other; and as we pass they
pour out of their hiding-places, and float overhead.
A speckled kingfisher is
seen nearly every hundred yards, which builds in similar spots, and
attracts the attention of herd-boys, who dig out its nest for the sake of
the young. This, and a most lovely little blue and orange kingfisher, are
seen every where along the banks, dashing down like a shot into the water
for their prey. A third, seen more rarely, is as large as a pigeon, and is
of a slaty color.
Another inhabitant of the
banks is the sand-martin, which also likes company in the work of raising
a family. They never leave this part of the country. One may see them
preening themselves in the very depth of winter, while the swallows, of
which we shall yet speak, take winter trips. I saw sand-martins at the
Orange River during a period of winter frost; it is, therefore, probable
that they do not migrate even from thence.
Around the reeds, which in
some parts line the banks, we see fresh-water sponges. They usually
encircle the stalk, and are hard and brittle, presenting numbers of small
round grains near their circumference.
The river was running at
the rate of five miles an hour, and carried bunches of reed and decaying
vegetable matter on its surface; yet the water was not discolored. It had,
however, a slightly yellowish-green tinge, somewhat deeper than its
natural color. This arose from the quantity of sand carried by the rising
flood from sand-banks, which are annually shifted from one spot to
another, and from the pieces falling in as the banks are worn; for when
the water is allowed to stand in a glass, a few seconds suffice for its
deposit at the bottom. This is considered an unhealthy period. When
waiting, on one occasion, for the other canoes to come up, I felt no
inclination to leave the one I was in; but my head boatman, Mashauana,
told me never to remain on board while so much vegetable matter was
floating down the stream.
17TH DECEMBER. At Libonta.
We were detained for days together collecting contributions of fat and
butter, according to the orders of Sekeletu, as presents to the Balonda
chiefs. Much fever prevailed, and ophthalmia was rife, as is generally the
case before the rains begin. Some of my own men required my assistance, as
well as the people of Libonta. A lion had done a good deal of mischief
here, and when the people went to attack it two men were badly wounded;
one of them had his thigh-bone quite broken, showing the prodigious power
of this animal's jaws.
The inflammation produced
by the teeth-wounds proved fatal to one of them. Here we demanded the
remainder of the captives, and got our number increased to nineteen. They
consisted of women and children, and one young man of twenty. One of the
boys was smuggled away in the crowd as we embarked. The Makololo
under-chiefs often act in direct opposition to the will of the head chief,
trusting to circumstances and brazenfacedness to screen themselves from
his open displeasure; and as he does not always find it convenient to
notice faults, they often go to considerable lengths in wrong-doing.
Libonta is the last town of
the Makololo; so, when we parted from it, we had only a few
cattle-stations and outlying hamlets in front, and then an uninhabited
border country till we came to Londa or Lunda. Libonta is situated on a
mound like the rest of the villages in the Barotse valley, but here the
tree-covered sides of the valley begin to approach nearer the river. The
village itself belongs to two of the chief wives of Sebituane, who
furnished us with an ox and abundance of other food. The same kindness was
manifested by all who could afford to give any thing; and as I glance over
their deeds of generosity recorded in my journal, my heart glows with
gratitude to them, and I hope and pray that God may spare me to make them
some return.
Before leaving the villages
entirely, we may glance at our way of spending the nights. As soon as we
land, some of the men cut a little grass for my bed, while Mashauana
plants the poles of the little tent. These are used by day for carrying
burdens, for the Barotse fashion is exactly like that of the natives of
India, only the burden is fastened near the ends of the pole, and not
suspended by long cords. The bed is made, and boxes ranged on each side of
it, and then the tent pitched over all. Four or five feet in front of my
tent is placed the principal or kotla fire, the wood for which must be
collected by the man who occupies the post of herald, and takes as his
perquisite the heads of all the oxen slaughtered, and of all the game too.
Each person knows the station he is to occupy, in reference to the post of
honor at the fire in front of the door of the tent. The two Makololo
occupy my right and left, both in eating and sleeping, as long as
the journey lasts. But Mashauana, my head boatman, makes his bed at the
door of the tent as soon as I retire. The rest, divided into small
companies according to their tribes, make sheds all round the fire,
leaving a horseshoe-shaped space in front sufficient for the cattle to
stand in. The fire gives confidence to the oxen, so the men are always
careful to keep them in sight of it. The sheds are formed by planting two
stout forked poles in an inclined direction, and placing another over
these in a horizontal position. A number of branches are then stuck in the
ground in the direction to which the poles are inclined, the twigs drawn
down to the horizontal pole and tied with strips of bark. Long grass is
then laid over the branches in sufficient quantity to draw off the rain,
and we have sheds open to the fire in front, but secure from beasts
behind. In less than an hour we were usually all under cover. We never
lacked abundance of grass during the whole journey. It is a picturesque
sight at night, when the clear bright moon of these climates glances on
the sleeping forms around, to look out upon the attitudes of profound
repose both men and beasts assume. There being no danger from wild animals
in such a night, the fires are allowed almost to go out; and as there is
no fear of hungry dogs coming over sleepers and devouring the food, or
quietly eating up the poor fellows' blankets, which at best were but
greasy skins, which sometimes happened in the villages, the picture was
one of perfect peace.
The cooking is usually done
in the natives' own style, and, as they carefully wash the dishes, pots,
and the hands before handling food, it is by no means despicable.
Sometimes alterations are made at my suggestion, and then they believe
that they can cook in thorough white man's fashion. The cook always comes
in for something left in the pot, so all are eager to obtain the office. I
taught several of them to wash my shirts, and they did it well, though
their teacher had never been taught that work himself.
Frequent changes of linen
and sunning of my blanket kept me more comfortable than might have been
anticipated, and I feel certain that the lessons of cleanliness rigidly
instilled by my mother in childhood helped to maintain that respect which
these people entertain for European ways. It is questionable if a descent
to barbarous ways ever elevates a man in the eyes of savages.
When quite beyond the
inhabited parts, we found the country abounding in animal life of every
form. There are upward of thirty species of birds on the river itself.
Hundreds of the `Ibis religiosa' come down the Leeambye with the rising
water, as they do on the Nile; then large white pelicans, in flocks of
three hundred at a time, following each other in long extending line,
rising and falling as they fly so regularly all along as to look like an
extended coil of birds; clouds of a black shell-eating bird, called
linongolo (`Anastomus lamelligerus'); also plovers, snipes, curlews, and
herons without number.
There are, besides the more
common, some strange varieties. The pretty white `ardetta' is seen in
flocks, settling on the backs of large herds of buffaloes, and following
them on the wing when they run; while the kala (`Textor erythrorhynchus')
is a better horseman, for it sits on the withers when the animal is at
full speed. Then those strange birds, the scissor-bills, with snow-white
breast, jet-black coat, and red beak, sitting by day on the sand-banks,
the very picture of comfort and repose. Their nests are only little
hollows made on these same sand-banks, without any attempt of concealment;
they watch them closely, and frighten away the marabou and crows from
their eggs by feigned attacks at their heads. When man approaches their
nests, they change their tactics, and, like the lapwing and ostrich, let
one wing drop and make one leg limp, as if lame. The upper mandible being
so much shorter than the lower, the young are more helpless than the stork
in the fable with the flat dishes, and must have every thing conveyed into
the mouth by the parents till they are able to provide for themselves. The
lower mandible, as thin as a paper-knife, is put into the water while the
bird skims along the surface, and scoops up any little insects it meets.
It has great length of wing, and can continue its flight with perfect
ease, the wings acting, though kept above the level of the body. The
wonder is, how this plowing of the surface of the water can be so well
performed as to yield a meal, for it is usually done in the dark.
Like most aquatic feeders,
they work by night, when insects and fishes rise to the surface. They have
great affection for their young, its amount being increased in proportion
to the helplessness of the offspring. There are also numbers of
spoonbills, nearly white in plumage; the beautiful, stately flamingo; the
Numidian crane, or demoiselle, some of which, tamed at Government House,
Cape Town, struck every one as most graceful ornaments to a noble mansion,
as they perched on its pillars. There are two cranes besides -- one light
blue, the other also light blue, but with a white neck; and gulls
(`Procellaria') of different sizes abound. One pretty little wader, an
avoset, appears as if standing on stilts, its legs are so long; and its
bill seems bent the wrong way, or upward. It is constantly seen wading in
the shallows, digging up little slippery insects, the peculiar form of the
bill enabling it to work them easily out of the sand. When feeding, it
puts its head under the water to seize the insect at the bottom, then
lifts it up quickly, making a rapid gobbling, as if swallowing a wriggling
worm.
The `Parra Africana' runs
about on the surface, as if walking on water, catching insects. It too has
long, thin legs, and extremely long toes, for the purpose of enabling it
to stand on the floating lotus-leaves and other aquatic plants. When it
stands on a lotus-leaf five inches in diameter, the spread of the toes,
acting on the principle of snow-shoes, occupies all the surface, and it
never sinks, though it obtains a livelihood, not by swimming or flying,
but by walking on the water.
Water-birds, whose prey or
food requires a certain aim or action in one direction, have bills quite
straight in form, as the heron and snipe; while those which are intended
to come in contact with hard substances, as breaking shells, have the
bills gently curved, in order that the shock may not be communicated to
the brain.
The Barotse valley contains
great numbers of large black geese. They may be seen every where walking
slowly about, feeding. They have a strong black spur on the shoulder, like
the armed plover, and as strong as that on the heel of a cock, but are
never seen to use them, except in defense of their young. They choose
ant-hills for their nests, and in the time of laying the Barotse consume
vast quantities of their eggs. There are also two varieties of geese, of
somewhat smaller size, but better eating. One of these, the Egyptian
goose, or Vulpanser, can not rise from the water, and during the floods of
the river great numbers are killed by being pursued in canoes. The third
is furnished with a peculiar knob on the beak. These, with myriads of
ducks of three varieties, abound every where on the Leeambye.
On one occasion the canoe
neared a bank on which a large flock was sitting. Two shots furnished our
whole party with a supper, for we picked up seventeen ducks and a goose.
No wonder the Barotse always look back to this fruitful valley as the
Israelites did to the flesh-pots of Egypt. The poorest persons are so well
supplied with food from their gardens, fruits from the forest trees, and
fish from the river, that their children, when taken into the service of
the Makololo, where they have only one large meal a day, become quite
emaciated, and pine for a return to their parents.
Part of our company marched
along the banks with the oxen, and part went in the canoes, but our pace
was regulated by the speed of the men on shore. Their course was rather
difficult, on account of the numbers of departing and re-entering branches
of the Leeambye, which they had to avoid or wait at till we ferried them
over. The number of alligators is prodigious, and in this river they are
more savage than in some others. Many children are carried off annually at
Sesheke and other towns; for, notwithstanding the danger, when they go
down for water they almost always must play a while. This reptile is said
by the natives to strike the victim with its tail, then drag him in and
drown him.
When lying in the water
watching for prey, the body never appears. Many calves are lost also, and
it is seldom that a number of cows can swim over at Sesheke without some
loss. I never could avoid shuddering on seeing my men swimming across
these branches, after one of them had been caught by the thigh and taken
below. He, however, retained, as nearly all of them in the most trying
circumstances do, his full presence of mind, and, having a small, square,
ragged-edged javelin with him, when dragged to the bottom gave the
alligator a stab behind the shoulder. The alligator, writhing in pain,
left him, and he came out with the deep marks of the reptile's teeth on
his thigh.
Here the people have no
antipathy to persons who have met with such an adventure, but, in the
Bamangwato and Bakwain tribes, if a man is either bitten or even has had
water splashed over him by the reptile's tail, he is expelled his tribe.
When on the Zouga we saw one of the Bamangwato living among the Bayeiye,
who had the misfortune to have been bitten and driven out of his tribe in
consequence.
Fearing that I would regard
him with the same disgust which his countrymen profess to feel, he would
not tell me the cause of his exile, but the Bayeiye informed me of it, and
the scars of the teeth were visible on his thigh. If the Bakwains happened
to go near an alligator they would spit on the ground, and indicate its
presence by saying "Boleo ki bo" -- "There is sin". They imagine the mere
sight of it would give inflammation of the eyes; and though they eat the
zebra without hesitation, yet if one bites a man he is expelled the tribe,
and obliged to take his wife and family away to the Kalahari.
These curious relics of the
animal-worship of former times scarcely exist among the Makololo.
Sebituane acted on the principle, "Whatever is food for men is food for
me;" so no man is here considered unclean. The Barotse appear inclined to
pray to alligators and eat them too, for when I wounded a water-antelope,
called mochose, it took to the water; when near the other side of the
river an alligator appeared at its tail, and then both sank together.
Mashauana, who was nearer
to it than I, told me that, "though he had called to it to let his meat
alone, it refused to listen." One day we passed some Barotse lads who had
speared an alligator, and were waiting in expectation of its floating soon
after. The meat has a strong musky odor, not at all inviting for any one
except the very hungry.
When we had gone thirty or
forty miles above Libonta we sent eleven of our captives to the west, to
the chief called Makoma, with an explanatory message. This caused some
delay; but as we were loaded with presents of food from the Makololo, and
the wild animals were in enormous herds, we fared sumptuously. It was
grievous, however, to shoot the lovely creatures, they were so tame. With
but little skill in stalking, one could easily get within fifty or sixty
yards of them. There I lay, looking at the graceful forms and motions of
beautiful pokus, leches, and other antelopes, often till my men, wondering
what was the matter, came up to see, and frightened them away. If we had
been starving, I could have slaughtered them with as little hesitation as
I should cut off a patient's leg; but I felt a doubt, and the antelopes
got the benefit of it.
Have they a guardian spirit
over them? I have repeatedly observed, when I approached a herd lying
beyond an ant-hill with a tree on it, and viewed them with the greatest
caution, they very soon showed symptoms of uneasiness. They did not sniff
danger in the wind, for I was to leeward of them; but the almost
invariable apprehension of danger which arose, while unconscious of the
direction in which it lay, made me wonder whether each had what the
ancient physicians thought we all possessed, an archon, or presiding
spirit.
If we could ascertain the
most fatal spot in an animal, we could dispatch it with the least possible
amount of suffering; but as that is probably the part to which the
greatest amount of nervous influence is directed at the moment of
receiving the shot, if we can not be sure of the heart or brain, we are
never certain of speedy death.
Antelopes, formed for a
partially amphibious existence, and other animals of that class, are much
more tenacious of life than those which are purely terrestrial. Most
antelopes, when in distress or pursued, make for the water. If hunted,
they always do. A leche shot right through the body, and no limb-bone
broken, is almost sure to get away, while a zebra, with a wound of no
greater severity, will probably drop down dead. I have seen a rhinoceros,
while standing apparently chewing the cud, drop down dead from a shot in
the stomach, while others shot through one lung and the stomach go off as
if little hurt. But if one should crawl up silently to within twenty yards
either of the white or black rhinoceros, throwing up a pinch of dust every
now and then, to find out that the anxiety to keep the body concealed by
the bushes has not led him to the windward side, then sit down, rest the
elbow on the knees, and aim, slanting a little upward, at a dark spot
behind the shoulders, it falls stone dead.
To show that a shock on the
part of the system to which much nervous force is at the time directed
will destroy life, it may be mentioned that an eland, when hunted, can be
dispatched by a wound which does little more than injure the muscular
system; its whole nervous force is then imbuing the organs of motion; and
a giraffe, when pressed hard by a good horse only two or three hundred
yards, has been known to drop down dead, without any wound being inflicted
at all. A full gallop by an eland or giraffe quite dissipates its power,
and the hunters, aware of this, always try to press them at once to it,
knowing that they have but a short space to run before the animals are in
their power. In doing this, the old sportsmen are careful not to go too
close to the giraffe's tail, for this animal can swing his hind foot round
in a way which would leave little to choose between a kick with it and a
clap from the arm of a windmill.
When the nervous force is
entire, terrible wounds may be inflicted without killing; a tsessebe
having been shot through the neck while quietly feeding, we went to him,
and one of the men cut his throat deep enough to bleed him largely. He
started up after this and ran more than a mile, and would have got clear
off had not a dog brought him to bay under a tree, where we found him
standing.
My men, having never had
fire-arms in their hands before, found it so difficult to hold the musket
steady at the flash of fire in the pan, that they naturally expected me to
furnish them with "gun medicine", without which, it is almost universally
believed, no one can shoot straight. Great expectations had been formed
when I arrived among the Makololo on this subject; but, having invariably
declined to deceive them, as some for their own profit have done, my men
now supposed that I would at last consent, and thereby relieve myself from
the hard work of hunting by employing them after due medication. This I
was most willing to do, if I could have done it honestly; for, having but
little of the hunting `furore' in my composition, I always preferred
eating the game to killing it. Sulphur is the remedy most admired, and I
remember Sechele giving a large price for a very small bit. He also gave
some elephants' tusks, worth 30 Pounds, for another medicine which was to
make him invulnerable to musket balls.
As I uniformly recommended
that these things should be tested by experiment, a calf was anointed with
the charm and tied to a tree. It proved decisive, and Sechele remarked it
was "pleasanter to be deceived than undeceived." I offered sulphur for the
same purpose, but that was declined, even though a person came to the town
afterward and rubbed his hands with a little before a successful trial of
shooting at a mark.
I explained to my men the
nature of a gun, and tried to teach them, but they would soon have
expended all the ammunition in my possession. I was thus obliged to do all
the shooting myself ever afterward. Their inability was rather a
misfortune; for, in consequence of working too soon after having been
bitten by the lion, the bone of my left arm had not united well. Continual
hard manual labor, and some falls from ox-back, lengthened the ligament by
which the ends of the bones were united, and a false joint was the
consequence. The limb has never been painful, as those of my companions on
the day of the rencounter with the lion have been, but, there being a
joint too many, I could not steady the rifle, and was always obliged to
shoot with the piece resting on the left shoulder. I wanted steadiness of
aim, and it generally happened that the more hungry the party became, the
more frequently I missed the animals.
We spent a Sunday on our
way up to the confluence of the Leeba and Leeambye. Rains had fallen here
before we came, and the woods had put on their gayest hue. Flowers of
great beauty and curious forms grow every where; they are unlike those in
the south, and so are the trees. Many of the forest-tree leaves are
palmated and largely developed; the trunks are covered with lichens, and
the abundance of ferns which appear in the woods shows we are now in a
more humid climate than any to the south of the Barotse valley. The ground
begins to swarm with insect life; and in the cool, pleasant mornings the
welkin rings with the singing of birds, which is not so delightful as the
notes of birds at home, because I have not been familiar with them from
infancy.
The notes here, however,
strike the mind by their loudness and variety, as the wellings forth from
joyous hearts of praise to Him who fills them with overflowing gladness.
All of us rise early to enjoy the luscious balmy air of the morning. We
then have worship; but, amid all the beauty and loveliness with which we
are surrounded, there is still a feeling of want in the soul in viewing
one's poor companions, and hearing bitter, impure words jarring on the ear
in the perfection of the scenes of Nature, and a longing that both their
hearts and ours might be brought into harmony with the Great Father of
Spirits. I pointed out, in, as usual, the simplest words I could employ,
the remedy which God has presented to us, in the inexpressibly precious
gift of His own Son, on whom the Lord "laid the iniquity of us all." The
great difficulty in dealing with these people is to make the subject
plain. The minds of the auditors can not be understood by one who has not
mingled much with them. They readily pray for the forgiveness of sins, and
then sin again; confess the evil of it, and there the matter ends.
I shall not often advert to
their depravity. My practice has always been to apply the remedy with all
possible earnestness, but never allow my own mind to dwell on the dark
shades of men's characters. I have never been able to draw pictures of
guilt, as if that could awaken Christian sympathy. The evil is there. But
all around in this fair creation are scenes of beauty, and to turn from
these to ponder on deeds of sin can not promote a healthy state of the
faculties. I attribute much of the bodily health I enjoy to following the
plan adopted by most physicians, who, while engaged in active, laborious
efforts to assist the needy, at the same time follow the delightful
studies of some department of natural history.
The human misery and sin we
endeavor to alleviate and cure may be likened to the sickness and impurity
of some of the back slums of great cities. One contents himself by
ministering to the sick and trying to remove the causes, without remaining
longer in the filth than is necessary for his work; another, equally
anxious for the public good, stirs up every cesspool, that he may describe
its reeking vapors, and, by long contact with impurities, becomes himself
infected, sickens, and dies.
The men went about during
the day, and brought back wild fruits of several varieties, which I had
not hitherto seen. One, called mogametsa, is a bean with a little pulp
round it, which tastes like sponge-cake; another, named mawa, grows
abundantly on a low bush. There are many berries and edible bulbs almost
every where. The mamosho or moshomosho, and milo (a medlar), were to be
found near our encampment. These are both good, if indeed one can be a
fair judge who felt quite disposed to pass a favorable verdict on every
fruit which had the property of being eatable at all. Many kinds are
better than our crab-apple or sloe, and, had they the care and culture
these have enjoyed, might take high rank among the fruits of the world.
All that the Africans have thought of has been present gratification; and
now, as I sometimes deposit date-seeds in the soil, and tell them I have
no hope whatever of seeing the fruit, it seems to them as the act of the
South Sea Islanders appears to us, when they planted in their gardens iron
nails received from Captain Cook.
There are many fruits and
berries in the forests, the uses of which are unknown to my companions.
Great numbers of a kind of palm I have never met with before were seen
growing at and below the confluence of the Loeti and Leeambye; the seed
probably came down the former river. It is nearly as tall as the palmyra.
The fruit is larger than of that species; it is about four inches long,
and has a soft yellow pulp round the kernel or seed; when ripe, it is
fluid and stringy, like the wild mango, and not very pleasant to eat.
Before we came to the
junction of the Leeba and Leeambye we found the banks twenty feet high,
and composed of marly sandstone. They are covered with trees, and the left
bank has the tsetse and elephants. I suspect the fly has some connection
with this animal, and the Portuguese in the district of Tete must think so
too, for they call it the `Musca da elephant' (the elephant fly).
The water of inundation
covers even these lofty banks, but does not stand long upon them; hence
the crop of trees. Where it remains for any length of time, trees can not
live. On the right bank, or that in which the Loeti flows, there is an
extensive flat country called Manga, which, though covered with grass, is
destitute in a great measure of trees.
Flocks of green pigeons
rose from the trees as we passed along the banks, and the notes of many
birds told that we were now among strangers of the feathered tribe. The
beautiful trogon, with bright scarlet breast and black back, uttered a
most peculiar note, similar to that we read of as having once been emitted
by Memnon, and likened to the tuning of a lyre. The boatmen answered it by
calling "Nama, nama!" -- meat, meat -- as if they thought that a
repetition of the note would be a good omen for our success in hunting.
Many more interesting birds
were met; but I could make no collection, as I was proceeding on the plan
of having as little luggage as possible, so as not to excite the cupidity
of those through whose country we intended to pass. Vast shoals of fish
come down the Leeambye with the rising waters, as we observed they also do
in the Zouga. They are probably induced to make this migration by the
increased rapidity of the current dislodging them from their old
pasture-grounds higher up the river.
Insects constitute but a
small portion of the food of many fish. Fine vegetable matter, like
slender mosses, growing on the bottom, is devoured greedily; and as the
fishes are dislodged from the main stream by the force of the current, and
find abundant pasture on the flooded plains, the whole community becomes
disturbed and wanders.
The mosala (`Clarias
Capensis' and `Glanis siluris'), the mullet (`Mugil Africanus'), and other
fishes, spread over the Barotse valley in such numbers that when the
waters retire all the people are employed in cutting them up and drying
them in the sun. The supply exceeds the demand, and the land in numerous
places is said to emit a most offensive smell. Wherever you see the
Zambesi in the centre of the country, it is remarkable for the abundance
of animal life in and upon its waters, and on the adjacent banks.
We passed great numbers of
hippopotami. They are very numerous in the parts of the river where they
are never hunted. The males appear of a dark color, the females of
yellowish brown. There is not such a complete separation of the sexes
among them as among elephants. They spend most of their time in the water,
lolling about in a listless, dreamy manner. When they come out of the
river by night, they crop off the soft succulent grasses very neatly. When
they blow, they puff up the water about three feet high. |