Effects
of Missionary Efforts -- Belief in the Deity -- Ideas of the Bakwains on
Religion -- Departure from their Country -- Salt-pans -- Sour Curd --
Nchokotsa -- Bitter Waters -- Thirst suffered by the wild Animals --
Wanton Cruelty in Hunting -- Ntwetwe -- Mowana-trees -- Their
extraordinary Vitality -- The Mopane-tree -- The Morala -- The Bushmen --
Their Superstitions -- Elephant-hunting -- Superiority of civilized over
barbarous Sportsmen -- The Chief Kaisa -- His Fear of Responsibility --
Beauty of the Country at Unku -- The Mohonono Bush -- Severe Labor in
cutting our Way -- Party seized with Fever -- Escape of our Cattle --
Bakwain Mode of recapturing them -- Vagaries of sick Servants -- Discovery
of grape-bearing Vines -- An Ant-eater -- Difficulty of passing through
the Forest -- Sickness of my Companion -- The Bushmen -- Their Mode of
destroying Lions -- Poisons -- The solitary Hill -- A picturesque Valley
-- Beauty of the Country -- Arrive at the Sanshureh River -- The flooded
Prairies -- A pontooning Expedition -- A night Bivouac -- The Chobe --
Arrive at the Village of Moremi -- Surprise of the Makololo at our sudden
Appearance -- Cross the Chobe on our way to Linyanti.
The Bakalahari, who live at
Motlatsa wells, have always been very friendly to us, and listen
attentively to instruction conveyed to them in their own tongue. It is,
however, difficult to give an idea to a European of the little effect
teaching produces, because no one can realize the degradation to which
their minds have been sunk by centuries of barbarism and hard struggling
for the necessaries of life: like most others, they listen with respect
and attention, but, when we kneel down and address an unseen Being, the
position and the act often appear to them so ridiculous that they can not
refrain from bursting into uncontrollable laughter. After a few services
they get over this tendency. I was once present when a missionary
attempted to sing among a wild heathen tribe of Bechuanas, who had no
music in their composition; the effect on the risible faculties of the
audience was such that the tears actually ran down their cheeks.
Nearly
all their thoughts are directed to the supply of their bodily wants, and
this has been the case with the race for ages. If asked, then, what
effect the preaching of the Gospel has at the commencement on such
individuals, I am unable to tell, except that some have confessed long
afterward that they then first began to pray in secret. Of the effects of
a long-continued course of instruction there can be no reasonable doubt,
as mere nominal belief has never been considered sufficient proof of
conversion by any body of missionaries; and, after the change which has
been brought about by this agency, we have good reason to hope well for
the future -- those I have myself witnessed behaving in the manner
described, when kindly treated in sickness often utter imploring words to
Jesus, and I believe sometimes really do pray to him in their
afflictions. As that great Redeemer of the guilty seeks to save all he
can, we may hope that they find mercy through His blood, though little
able to appreciate the sacrifice He made.
The
indirect and scarcely appreciable blessings of Christian missionaries
going about doing good are thus probably not so despicable as some might
imagine; there is no necessity for beginning to tell even the most
degraded of these people of the existence of a God or of a future state,
the facts being universally admitted. Every thing that can not be
accounted for by common causes is ascribed to the Deity, as creation,
sudden death, etc. "How curiously God made these things!" is a common
expression; as is also, "He was not killed by disease, he was killed by
God." And, when speaking of the departed -- though there is naught in the
physical appearance of the dead to justify the expression -- they say, "He
has gone to the gods," the phrase being identical with "abiit ad plures".
On questioning intelligent men among the Bakwains as to their former
knowledge of good and evil, of God and the future state, they have scouted
the idea of any of them ever having been without a tolerably clear
conception on all these subjects.
Respecting their sense of right and wrong, they profess that nothing we
indicate as sin ever appeared to them as otherwise, except the statement
that it was wrong to have more wives than one; and they declare that they
spoke in the same way of the direct influence exercised by God in giving
rain in answer to prayers of the rain-makers, and in granting deliverances
in times of danger, as they do now, before they ever heard of white men.
The want, however, of any form of public worship, or of idols, or of
formal prayers or sacrifice, make both Caffres and Bechuanas appear as
among the most godless races of mortals known any where. But, though they
all possess a distinct knowledge of a deity and of a future state, they
show so little reverence, and feel so little connection with either, that
it is not surprising that some have supposed them entirely ignorant on the
subject. At Lotlakani we met an old Bushman who at first seemed to have
no conception of morality whatever; when his heart was warmed by our
presents of meat, he sat by the fire relating his early adventures: among
these was killing five other Bushmen.
"Two,"
said he, counting on his fingers, "were females, one a male, and the other
two calves." "What a villain you are, to boast of killing women and
children of your own nation! what will God say when you appear before
him?" "He will say," replied he, "that I was a very clever fellow." This
man now appeared to me as without any conscience, and, of course,
responsibility; but, on trying to enlighten him by further conversation, I
discovered that, though he was employing the word that is used among the
Bakwains when speaking of the Deity, he had only the idea of a chief, and
was all the while referring to Sekomi, while his victims were a party of
rebel Bushmen against whom he had been sent. If I had known the name of
God in the Bushman tongue the mistake could scarcely have occurred. It
must, however, be recollected, while reflecting on the degradation of the
natives of South Africa, that the farther north, the more distinct do the
native ideas on religious subjects become, and I have not had any
intercourse with either Caffres or Bushmen in their own tongues.
Leaving Motlatsa on the 8th of February, 1853, we passed down the Mokoko,
which, in the memory of persons now living, was a flowing stream. We
ourselves once saw a heavy thunder-shower make it assume its ancient
appearance of running to the north. Between Lotlakani and Nchokotsa we
passed the small well named Orapa; and another called Thutsa lay a little
to our right -- its water is salt and purgative; the salt-pan Chuantsa,
having a cake of salt one inch and a half in thickness, is about ten miles
to the northeast of Orapa. This deposit contains a bitter salt in
addition, probably the nitrate of lime; the natives, in order to render it
palatable and wholesome, mix the salt with the juice of a gummy plant,
then place it in the sand and bake it by making a fire over it; the lime
then becomes insoluble and tasteless.
The
Bamangwato keep large flocks of sheep and goats at various spots on this
side of the Desert. They thrive wonderfully well wherever salt and bushes
are to be found. The milk of goats does not coagulate with facility, like
that of cows, on account of its richness; but the natives have discovered
that the infusion of the fruit of a solanaceous plant, Toluane, quickly
produces the effect. The Bechuanas put their milk into sacks made of
untanned hide, with the hair taken off. Hung in the sun, it soon
coagulates; the whey is then drawn off by a plug at the bottom, and fresh
milk added, until the sack is full of a thick, sour curd, which, when one
becomes used to it, is delicious. The rich mix this in the porridge into
which they convert their meal, and, as t is thus rendered nutritious and
strength-giving, an expression of scorn is sometimes heard respecting the
poor or weak, to the effect that "they are water-porridge men." It
occupies the place of our roast beef.
At
Nchokotsa, the rainy season having this year been delayed beyond the usual
time, we found during the day the thermometer stand at 96 Deg. in the
coolest possible shade. This height at Kolobeng always portended rain at
hand. At Kuruman, when it rises above 84 Deg., the same phenomenon may be
considered near; while farther north it rises above 100 Deg. before the
cooling influence of the evaporation from rain may be expected. Here the
bulb of the thermometer, placed two inches beneath the soil, stood at 128
Deg. All around Nchokotsa the country looked parched, and the glare from
the white efflorescence which covers the extensive pans on all sides was
most distressing to the eyes.
The
water of Nchokotsa was bitter, and presented indications not to be
mistaken of having passed through animal systems before. All these waters
contain nitrates, which stimulate the kidneys and increase the thirst.
The fresh additions of water required in cooking meat, each imparting its
own portion of salt, make one grumble at the cook for putting too much
seasoning in, while in fact he has put in none at all, except that
contained in the water. Of bitter, bad, disgusting waters I have drunk
not a few nauseous draughts; you may try alum, vitriol, boiling, etc.,
etc., to convince yourself that you are not more stupid than travellers
you will meet at home, but the ammonia and other salts are there still;
and the only remedy is to get away as quickly as possible to the north.
We dug
out several wells; and as we had on each occasion to wait till the water
flowed in again, and then allow our cattle to feed a day or two and slake
their thirst thoroughly, as far as that could be done, before starting,
our progress was but slow. At Koobe there was such a mass of mud in the
pond, worked up by the wallowing rhinoceros to the consistency of mortar,
that only by great labor could we get a space cleared at one side for the
water to ooze through and collect in for the oxen. Should the rhinoceros
come back, a single roll in the great mass we had thrown on one side would
have rendered all our labor vain. It was therefore necessary for us to
guard the spot at night.
On
these great flats all around we saw in the white sultry glare herds of
zebras, gnus, and occasionally buffaloes, standing for days, looking
wistfully toward the wells for a share of the nasty water. It is mere
wanton cruelty to take advantage of the necessities of these poor animals,
and shoot them down one after another, without intending to make the
smallest use of either the flesh, skins, or horns. In shooting by night,
animals are more frequently wounded than killed; the flowing life-stream
increases the thirst, so that in desperation they come slowly up to drink
in spite of the danger, "I must drink, though I die." The ostrich, even
when not wounded, can not, with all his wariness, resist the excessive
desire to slake his burning thirst. It is Bushman-like practice to take
advantage of its piteous necessities, for most of the feathers they obtain
are procured in this way; but they eat the flesh, and are so far
justifiable.
I
could not order my men to do what I would not do myself, but, though I
tried to justify myself on the plea of necessity, I could not adopt this
mode of hunting. If your object is to secure the best specimens for a
museum, it may be allowable, and even deserving of commendation, as
evincing a desire to kill only those really wanted; but if, as has been
practiced by some Griquas and others who came into the country after Mr.
Cumming, and fired away indiscriminately, great numbers of animals are
wounded and allowed to perish miserably, or are killed on the spot and
left to be preyed on by vultures and hyenas, and all for the sole purpose
of making a "bag", then I take it to be evident that such sportsmen are
pretty far gone in the hunting form of insanity.
My men
shot a black rhinoceros in this way, and I felt glad to get away from the
only place in which I ever had any share in night-hunting. We passed over
the immense pan Ntwetwe, on which the latitude could be taken as at sea.
Great tracts of this part of the country are of calcareous tufa, with only
a thin coating of soil; numbers of "baobab" and "mopane" trees abound all
over this hard, smooth surface. About two miles beyond the northern bank
of the pan we unyoked under a fine specimen of the baobab, here called, in
the language of Bechuanas, Mowana; it consisted of six branches united
into one trunk. At three feet from the ground it was eighty-five feet in
circumference.
These
mowana-trees are the most wonderful examples of vitality in the country;
it was therefore with surprise that we came upon a dead one at Tlomtla, a
few miles beyond this spot. It is the same as those which Adamson and
others believed, from specimens seen in Western Africa, to have been alive
before the flood. Arguing with a peculiar mental idiosyncracy resembling
color-blindness, common among the French of the time, these savans came to
the conclusion that "therefore there never was any flood at all." I would
back a true mowana against a dozen floods, provided you do not boil it in
hot sea-water; but I can not believe that any of those now alive had a
chance of being subjected to the experiment of even the Noachian deluge.
The
natives make a strong cord from the fibres contained in the pounded bark.
The whole of the trunk, as high as they can reach, is consequently often
quite denuded of its covering, which in the case of almost any other tree
would cause its death, but this has no effect on the mowana except to make
it throw out a new bark, which is done in the way of granulation. This
stripping of the bark is repeated frequently, so that it is common to see
the lower five or six feet an inch or two less in diameter
than
the parts above; even portions of the bark which have broken in the
process of being taken off, but remain separated from the parts below,
though still connected with the tree above, continue to grow, and resemble
closely marks made in the necks of the cattle of the island of Mull and of
Caffre oxen, where a piece of skin is detached and allowed to hang down.
No external injury, not even a fire, can destroy this tree from without;
nor can any injury be done from within, as it is quite common to find it
hollow; and I have seen one in which twenty or thirty men could lie down
and sleep as in a hut. Nor does cutting down exterminate it, for I saw
instances in Angola in which it continued to grow in length after it was
lying on the ground. Those trees called exogenous grow by means of
successive layers on the outside. The inside may be dead, or even removed
altogether, without affecting the life of the tree. This is the case with
most of the trees of our climate. The other class is called endogenous,
and increases by layers applied to the inside; and when the hollow there
is full, the growth is stopped -- the tree must die. Any injury is felt
most severely by the first class on the bark; by the second on the inside;
while the inside of the exogenous may be removed, and the outside of the
endogenous may be cut, without stopping the growth in the least. The
mowana possesses the powers of both. The reason is that each of the
laminae possesses its own independent vitality; in fact, the baobab is
rather a gigantic bulb run up to seed than a tree. Each of eighty-four
concentric rings had, in the case mentioned, grown an inch after the tree
had been blown over. The roots, which may often be observed extending
along the surface of the ground forty or fifty yards from the trunk, also
retain their vitality after the tree is laid low; and the Portuguese now
know that the best way to treat them is to let them alone, for they occupy
much more room when cut down than when growing. The wood is so spongy and
soft that an axe can be struck in so far with a good blow that there is
great difficulty in pulling it out again. In the dead mowana mentioned the
concentric rings were well seen. The average for a foot at three
different places was eighty-one and a half of these rings. Each of the
laminae can be seen to be composed of two, three, or four layers of
ligneous tubes; but supposing each ring the growth of one year, and the
semidiameter of a mowana of one hundred feet in circumference about
seventeen feet, if the central point were in the centre of the tree, then
its age would lack some centuries of being as old as the Christian era
(1400). Though it possesses amazing vitality, it is difficult to believe
that this great baby-looking bulb or tree is as old as the Pyramids.
The
mopane-tree (`bauhinia') is remarkable for the little shade its leaves
afford. They fold together and stand nearly perpendicular during the heat
of the day, so that only the shadow of their edges comes to the ground.
On these leaves the small larvae of a winged insect appear covered over
with a sweet, gummy substance. The people collect this in great
quantities, and use it as food; [I am favored with Mr. Westwood's remarks
on this insect as follows: "Taylor Institution, Oxford, July 9, 1857.
"The insect (and its secretion) on the leaves of the bauhinia, and which
is eaten by the Africans, proves to be a species of Psylla, a genus of
small, very active Homoptera, of which we have one very common species in
the box; but our species, Psylla buxi, emits its secretion in the shape
of very long, white, cotton-like filaments. But there is a species in New
Holland, found on the leaves of the Eucalyptus, which emits a secretion
very similar to that of Dr. Livingstone's species. This Australian
secretion (and its insect originator) is known by the name of wo-me-la,
and, like Dr. Livingstone's, it is scraped off the leaves and eaten by
the aborigines as a saccharine dainty. The insects found beneath the
secretion, brought home by Dr. Livingstone, are in the pupa state, being
flattened, with large scales at the sides of the body, inclosing the
future wings of the insect. The body is pale yellowish-colored, with
dark-brown spots. It will be impossible to describe the species
technically until we receive the perfect insect. The secretion itself is
flat and circular, apparently deposited in concentric rings, gradually
increasing in size till the patches are about a quarter or a third of an
inch in diameter. Jno. O. Westwood."] and the lopane -- large caterpillars
three inches long, which feed on the leaves, and are seen strung together
-- share the same fate.
In
passing along we see every where the power of vegetation in breaking up
the outer crust of tufa. A mopane-tree, growing in a small chink, as it
increases in size rends and lifts up large fragments of the rock all
around it, subjecting them to the disintegrating influence of the
atmosphere. The wood is hard, and of a fine red color, and is named
iron-wood by the Portuguese. The inhabitants, observing that the mopane
is more frequently struck by lightning than other trees, caution travelers
never to seek its shade when a thunder-storm is near -- "Lightning hates
it;" while another tree, the "Morala", which has three spines opposite
each other on the branches, and has never been known to be touched by
lightning, is esteemed, even as far as Angola, a protection against the
electric fluid. Branches of it may be seen placed on the houses of the
Portuguese for the same purpose. The natives, moreover, believe that a
man is thoroughly protected from an enraged elephant if he can get into
the shade of this tree. There may not be much in this, but there is
frequently some foundation of truth in their bservations.
At
Rapesh we came among our old friends the Bushmen, under Horoye. This man,
Horoye, a good specimen of that tribe, and his son Mokantsa and others,
were at least six feet high, and of a darker color than the Bushmen of the
south. They have always plenty of food and water; and as they frequent
the Zouga as often as the game in company with which they live, their life
is very different from that of the inhabitants of the thirsty plains of
the Kalahari. The animal they refrain from eating is the goat, which
fact, taken in connection with the superstitious dread which exists in
every tribe toward a particular animal, is significant of their feelings
to the only animals they could have domesticated in their desert home.
They are a merry laughing set, and do not tell lies wantonly. They have
in their superstitious rites more appearance of worship than the
Bechuanas; and at a Bushman's grave we once came to on the Zouga, the
observances showed distinctly that they regarded the dead as still in
another state of being; for they addressed him, and requested him not to
be offended even though they wished still to remain a little while longer
in this world.
Those
among whom we now were kill many elephants, and when the moon is full
choose that time for the chase, on account of its coolness. Hunting this
animal is the best test of courage this country affords. The Bushmen
choose the moment succeeding a charge, when the elephant is out of breath,
to run in and give him a stab with their long-bladed spears. In this case
the uncivilized have the advantage over us, but I believe that with half
their training Englishmen would beat the Bushmen. Our present form of
civilization does not necessarily produce effeminacy, though it
unquestionably increases the beauty, courage, and physical powers of the
race. When at Kolobeng I took notes of the different numbers of elephants
killed in the course of the season by the various parties which went past
our dwelling, in order to form an idea of the probable annual destruction
of this noble animal. There were parties of Griquas, Bechuanas, Boers, and
Englishmen. All were eager to distinguish themselves, and success depended
mainly on the courage which leads the huntsman to go close to the animal,
and not waste the force of his shot on the air. It was noticeable that
the average for the natives was under one per man, for the Griquas one per
man, for the Boers two, and for the English officers twenty each. This was
the more remarkable, as the Griquas, Boers, and Bechuanas employed both
dogs and natives to assist them, while the English hunters generally had
no assistance from either. They approached to within thirty yards of the
animal, while the others stood at a distance of a hundred yards, or even
more, and of course spent all the force of their bullets on the air. One
elephant was found by Mr. Oswell with quite a crowd of bullets in his
side, all evidently fired in this style, and they had not gone near the
vital parts.
It
would thus appear that our more barbarous neighbors do not possess half
the courage of the civilized sportsman. And it is probable that in this
respect, as well as in physical development, we are superior to our
ancestors. The coats of mail and greaves of the Knights of Malta, and the
armor from the Tower exhibited at the Eglinton tournament, may be
considered decisive as to the greater size attained by modern civilized
men.
At
Maila we spent a Sunday with Kaisa, the head man of a village of Mashona,
who had fled from the iron sway of Mosilikatse, whose country lies east of
this. I wished him to take charge of a packet of letters for England, to
be forwarded when, as is the custom of the Bamangwato, the Bechuanas come
hither in search of skins and food among the Bushmen; but he could not be
made to comprehend that there was no danger in the consignment. He feared
the responsibility and guilt if any thing should happen to them; so I had
to bid adieu to all hope of letting my family hear of my welfare till I
should reach the west coast.
At
Unku we came into a tract of country which had been visited by refreshing
showers long before, and every spot was covered with grass run up to seed,
and the flowers of the forest were in full bloom. Instead of the dreary
prospect around Koobe and Nchokotsa, we had here a delightful scene, all
the ponds full of water, and the birds twittering joyfully. As the game
can now obtain water every where, they become very shy, and can not be
found in their accustomed haunts. 1ST MARCH. The thermometer in the shade
generally stood at 98 Degrees from 1 to 3 P.M., but it sank as low as 65
Deg. by night, so that the heat was by no means exhausting. At the
surface of the ground, in the sun, the thermometer marked 125 Deg., and
three inches below it 138 Deg. The hand can not be held on the ground, and
even the horny soles of the feet of the natives must be protected by
sandals of hide; yet the ants were busy working on it. The water in the
ponds was as high as 100 Deg.; but as water does not conduct heat readily
downward, deliciously cool water may be obtained by any one walking into
he middle and lifting up the water from the bottom to the surface with
his hands.
Proceeding to the north, from Kama-kama, we entered into dense Mohonono
bush, which required the constant application of the axe by three of our
party for two days. This bush has fine silvery leaves, and the bark has a
sweet taste. The elephant, with his usual delicacy of taste, feeds much
on it. On emerging into the plains beyond, we found a number of Bushmen,
who afterward proved very serviceable. The rains had been copious, but now
great numbers of pools were drying up. Lotus-plants abounded in them, and
a low, sweet-scented plant covered their banks. Breezes came occasionally
to us from these drying-up pools, but the pleasant odor they carried
caused sneezing in both myself and people; and on the 10th of March (when
in lat. 19d 16' 11" S., long. 24d 24' E.) we were brought to a stand by
four of the party being seized with fever. I had seen this disease
before, but did not at once recognize it as the African fever; I imagined
it was only a bilious attack, arising from full feeding on flesh, for, the
large game having been very abundant, we always had a good supply; but
instead of the first sufferers recovering soon, every man of our party was
in a few days laid low, except a Bakwain and myself. He managed the oxen,
while I attended to the wants of the patients, and went out occasionally
with the Bushmen to get a zebra or buffalo, so as to induce them to remain
with us.
Here
for the first time I had leisure to follow the instructions of my kind
teacher, Mr. Maclear, and calculated several longitudes from lunar
distances. The hearty manner in which that eminent astronomer and frank,
friendly man had promised to aid me in calculating and verifying my work,
conduced more than any thing else to inspire me with perseverance in
making astronomical observations throughout the journey. The grass here
was so tall that the oxen became uneasy, and one night the sight of a
hyaena made them rush away into the forest to the east of us. On rising on
the morning of the 19th, I found that my Bakwain lad had run away with
them. This I have often seen with persons of this tribe, even when the
cattle are startled by a lion. Away go the young men in company with
them, and dash through bush and brake for miles, till they think the panic
is a little subsided; they then commence whistling to the cattle in the
manner they do when milking the cows: having calmed them, they remain as a
guard till the morning. The men generally return with their shins well
peeled by the thorns. Each comrade of the Mopato would expect his fellow
to act thus, without looking for any other reward than the brief praise of
the chief. Our lad, Kibopechoe, had gone after the oxen, but had lost them
in the rush through the flat, trackless forest. He remained on their
trail all the next day and all the next night. On Sunday morning, as I
was setting off in search of him, I found him near the wagon. He had found
the oxen late in the afternoon of Saturday, and had been obliged to stand
by them all night. It was wonderful how he managed without a compass, and
in such a country, to find his way home at all, bringing about forty oxen
with him.
The
Bechuanas will keep on the sick-list as long as they feel any weakness; so
I at last began to be anxious that they should make a little exertion to
get forward on our way. One of them, however, happening to move a hundred
yards from the wagon, fell down, and, being unobserved, remained the whole
night in the pouring rain totally insensible; another was subjected to
frequent swooning; but, making beds in the wagons for these our worst
cases, with the help of the Bakwain and the Bushmen, we moved slowly on.
We had to nurse the sick like children; and, like children recovering from
illness, the better they became the more impudent they grew. This was
seen in the peremptory orders they would give with their now piping
voices. Nothing that we did pleased them; and the laughter with which I
received their ebullitions, though it was only the real expression of
gladness at their recovery, and amusement at the ridiculous part they
acted, only increased their chagrin. The want of power in the man who
guided the two front oxen, or, as he was called, the "leader", caused us
to be entangled with trees, both standing and fallen, and the labor of
cutting them down was even more severe than ordinary; but, notwithstanding
an immense amount of toil, my health continued good.
We
wished to avoid the tsetse of our former path, so kept a course on the
magnetic meridian from Lurilopepe. The necessity of making a new path
much increased our toil. We were, however, rewarded in lat. 18 Degrees
with a sight we had not enjoyed the year before, namely, large patches of
grape-bearing vines. There they stood before my eyes; but the sight was
so entirely unexpected that I stood some time gazing at the clusters of
grapes with which they were loaded, with no more thought of plucking than
if I had been beholding them in a dream. The Bushmen know and eat them;
but they are not well flavoured on account of the great astringency of the
seeds, which are in shape and size like split peas. The elephants are
fond of the fruit, plant, and root alike. I here found an insect which
preys on ants; it is about an inch and a quarter long, as thick as a
crow-quill, and covered with black hair. It puts its head into a little
hole in the ground, and quivers its tail rapidly; the ants come near to
see it, and it snaps up each as he comes within the range of the forceps
on its tail. As its head is beneath the ground, it becomes a question how
it can guide its tail to the ants. It is probably a new species of
ant-lion (`Myrmeleon formicaleo'), great numbers of which, both in the
larvae and complete state, are met with.
The
ground under every tree is dotted over with their ingenious pitfalls, and
the perfect insect, the form of which most persons are familiar with in
the dragon-fly, may be seen using its tail in the same active manner as
this insect did. Two may be often seen joined in their flight, the one
holding on by the tail-forceps to the neck of the other. On first
observing this imperfect insect, I imagined the forceps were on its
head; but when the insect moved, their true position was seen.
The
forest, through which we were slowly toiling, daily became more dense, and
we were kept almost constantly at work with he axe; there was much more
leafiness in the trees here than farther south. The leaves are chiefly of
the pinnate and bi-pinnate forms, and are exceedingly beautiful when seen
against the sky; a great variety of the papilionaceous family grow in this
part of the country. Fleming had until this time always assisted to drive
his own wagon, but about the end of March he knocked up, as well as his
people.
As I
could not drive two wagons, I shared with him the remaining water, half a
caskful, and went on, with the intention of coming back for him as soon as
we should reach the next pool. Heavy rain now commenced; I was employed
the whole day in cutting down trees, and every stroke of the axe brought
down a thick shower on my back, which in the hard work was very
refreshing, as the water found its way down into my shoes. In the evening
we met some Bushmen, who volunteered to show us a pool; and having
unyoked, I walked some miles in search of it. As it became dark they
showed their politeness -- a quality which is by no means confined
entirely to the civilized -- by walking in front, breaking the branches
which hung across the path, and pointing out the fallen trees. On
returning to the wagon, we found that being left alone had brought out
some of Fleming's energy, for he had managed to come up. As the water in
this pond dried up, we were soon obliged to move again. One of the Bushmen
took out his dice, and, after throwing them, said that God told him to go
home. He threw again in order to show me the command, but the opposite
result followed; so he remained and was useful, for we lost the oxen again
by a lion driving them off to a very great distance. The lions here are
not often heard. They seem to have a wholesome dread of the Bushmen, who,
when they observe evidence of a lion's having made a full meal, follow up
his spoor so quietly that his slumbers are not disturbed. One discharges
a poisoned arrow from a distance of only a few feet, while his companion
simultaneously throws his skin cloak on the beast's head. The sudden
surprise makes the lion lose his presence of mind, and he bounds away in
the greatest confusion and terror. Our friends here showed me the poison
which they use on these occasions. It is the entrails of a caterpillar
called N'gwa, half an inch long. They squeeze out these, and place them
all around the bottom of the barb, and allow the poison to dry in the
sun. They are very careful in cleaning their nails after working with it,
as a small portion introduced into a scratch acts like morbid matter in
dissection wounds. The agony is so great that the person cuts himself,
calls for his mother's breast as if he were returned in idea to his
childhood again, or flies from human habitations a raging maniac. The
effects on the lion are equally terrible. He is heard moaning in
distress, and becomes furious, biting the trees and ground in rage.
As the
Bushmen have the reputation of curing the wounds of this poison, I asked
how this was effected. They said that they administer the caterpillar
itself in combination with fat; they also rub fat into the wound, saying
that "the N'gwa wants fat, and, when it does not find it in the body,
kills the man: we give it what it wants, and it is content:" a reason
which will commend itself to the enlightened among ourselves.
The
poison more generally employed is the milky juice of the tree Euphorbia
(`E. arborescens'). This is particularly obnoxious to the equine race.
When a quantity is mixed with the water of a pond a whole herd of zebras
will fall dead from the effects of the poison before they have moved away
two miles. It does not, however, kill oxen or men. On them it acts as a
drastic purgative only. This substance is used all over the country,
though in some places the venom of serpents and a certain bulb, `Amaryllis
toxicaria', are added, in order to increase the virulence.
Father
Pedro, a Jesuit, who lived at Zumbo, made a balsam, containing a number of
plants and CASTOR OIL, as a remedy for poisoned arrow-wounds. It is
probable that he derived his knowledge from the natives as I did, and that
the reputed efficacy of the balsam is owing to its fatty constituent. In
cases of the bites of serpents a small key ought to be pressed down firmly
on the wound, the orifice of the key being applied to the puncture, until
a cupping-glass can be got from one of the natives. A watch-key pressed
firmly on the point stung by a scorpion extracts the poison, and a mixture
of fat or oil and ipecacuanha relieves the pain.
The
Bushmen of these districts are generally fine, well-made men, and are
nearly independent of every one. We observed them to be fond of a root
somewhat like a kidney potato, and the kernel of a nut, which Fleming
thought was a kind of betel; the tree is a fine, large-spreading one, and
the leaves palmate. From the quantities of berries and the abundance of
game in these parts, the Bushmen can scarcely ever be badly off for food.
As I could, without much difficulty, keep them well supplied with meat,
and wished them to remain, I proposed that they should bring their wives
to get a share, but they remarked that the women could always take care of
themselves.
None
of the men of our party had died, but two seemed unlikely to recover; and
Kibopechoe, my willing Mokwain, at last became troubled with boils, and
then got all the symptoms of fever. As he lay down, the others began to
move about, and complained of weakness only. Believing that frequent
change of place was conducive to their recovery, we moved along as much as
we could, and came to the hill N'gwa (lat. 18d 27' 20" S., long. 24d 13'
36" E.). This being the only hill we had seen since leaving Bamangwato,
we felt inclined to take off our hats to it. It is three or four hundred
feet high, and covered with trees. Its geographical position is pretty
accurately laid down from occultation and other observations. I may
mention that the valley on its northern side, named Kandehy or Kandehai,
is as picturesque a spot as is to be seen in this part of Africa. The
open glade, surrounded by forest trees of various hues, had a little
stream meandering in the centre. A herd of reddish-colored antelopes
(pallahs) stood on one side, near a large baobab, looking at us, and ready
to run up the hill; while gnus, tsessebes, and zebras gazed in
astonishment at the intruders. Some fed carelessly, and others put on the
peculiar air of displeasure which these animals sometimes assume before
they resolve on flight. A large white rhinoceros came along the bottom of
the valley with his slow sauntering gait without noticing us; he looked as
if he meant to indulge in a mud bath. Several buffaloes, with their dark
visages, stood under the trees on the side opposite to the pallahs. It
being Sunday, all was peace, and, from the circumstances in which our
party was placed, we could not but reflect on that second stage of our
existence which we hope will lead us into scenes of perfect beauty. If
pardoned in that free way the Bible promises, death will be a glorious
thing; but to be consigned to wait for the Judgment-day, with nothing else
to ponder on but sins we would rather forget, is a cheerless prospect.
Our
Bushmen wished to leave us, and, as there was no use in trying to thwart
these independent gentlemen, I paid them, and allowed them to go. The
payment, however, acted as a charm on some strangers who happened to be
present, and induced them to volunteer their aid.
The
game hereabouts is very tame. Koodoos and giraffes stood gazing at me as
a strange apparition when I went out with the Bushmen. On one occasion a
lion came at daybreak, and went round and round the oxen. I could only get
a glimpse of him occasionally from the wagon-box; but, though barely
thirty yards off, I could not get a shot. He then began to roar at the
top of his voice; but the oxen continuing to stand still, he was so
disgusted that he went off, and continued to use his voice for a long time
in the distance. I could not see that he had a mane; if he had not, then
even the maneless variety can use their tongues. We heard others also
roar; and, when they found they could not frighten the oxen, they became
equally angry. This we could observe in their tones.
As we
went north the country became very lovely; many new trees appeared; the
grass was green, and often higher than the wagons; the vines festooned the
trees, among which appeared the real banian (`Ficus Indica'), with its
drop-shoots, and the wild date and palmyra, and several other trees which
were new to me; the hollows contained large patches of water. Next came
water-courses, now resembling small rivers, twenty yards broad and four
feet deep. The further we went, the broader and deeper these became;
their bottoms contained great numbers of deep holes, made by elephants
wading in them; in these the oxen floundered desperately, so that our
wagon-pole broke, compelling us to work up to the breast in water for
three hours and a half; yet I suffered no harm.
We at
last came to the Sanshureh, which presented an impassable barrier, so we
drew up under a magnificent baobab-tree, (lat. 18d 4' 27" S., long. 24d 6'
20" E.), and resolved to explore the river for a ford. The great quantity
of water we had passed through was part of the annual inundation of the
Chobe; and this, which appeared a large, deep river, filled in many parts
with reeds, and having hippopotami in it, is only one of the branches by
which it sends its superabundant water to the southeast. From the hill
N'gwa a ridge of higher land runs to the northeast, and bounds its course
in that direction. We, being ignorant of this, were in the valley, and the
only gap in the whole country destitute of tsetse. In company with the
Bushmen I explored all the banks of the Sanshureh to the west till we came
into tsetse on that side. We waded a long way among the reeds in water
breast deep, but always found a broad, deep space free from vegetation and
unfordable. A peculiar kind of lichen, which grows on the surface of the
soil, becomes detached and floats on the water, giving out a very
disagreeable odor, like sulphureted hydrogen, in some of these stagnant
waters.
We
made so many attempts to get over the Sanshureh, both to the west and east
of the wagon, in the hope of reaching some of the Makololo on the Chobe,
that my Bushmen friends became quite tired of the work. By means of
presents I got them to remain some days; but at last they slipped away by
night, and I was fain to take one of the strongest of my still weak
companions and cross the river in a pontoon, the gift of Captains
Codrington and Webb. We each carried some provisions and a blanket, and
penetrated about twenty miles to the westward, in the hope of striking the
Chobe. It was much nearer to us in a northerly direction, but this we did
not then know. The plain, over which we splashed the whole of the first
day, was covered with water ankle deep, and thick grass which reached
above the knees. In the evening we came to an immense wall of reeds, six
or eight feet high, without any opening admitting of a passage. When we
tried to enter, the water always became so deep that we were fain to
desist. We concluded that we had come to the banks of the river we were in
search of, so we directed our course to some trees which appeared in the
south, in order to get a bed and a view of the adjacent locality. Having
shot a leche, and made a glorious fire, we got a good cup of tea and had a
comfortable night. While collecting wood that evening, I found a bird's
nest consisting of live leaves sewn together with threads of the spider's
web. Nothing could exceed the airiness of this pretty contrivance; the
threads had been pushed through small punctures and thickened to resemble
a knot. I unfortunately lost it. This was the second nest I had seen
resembling that of the tailor-bird of India.
Next
morning, by climbing the highest trees, we could see a fine large sheet of
water, but surrounded on all sides by the same impenetrable belt of
reeds. This is the broad part of the River Chobe, and is called Zabesa.
Two tree-covered islands seemed to be much nearer to the water than the
shore on which we were, so we made an attempt to get to them first. It
was not the reeds alone we had to pass through; a peculiar serrated grass,
which at certain angles cut the hands like a razor, was mingled with the
reed, and the climbing convolvulus, with stalks which felt as strong as
whipcord, bound the mass together. We felt like pigmies in it, and often
the only way we could get on was by both of us leaning against a part and
bending it down till we could stand upon it. The perspiration streamed
off our bodies, and as the sun rose high, there being no ventilation among
the reeds, the heat was stifling, and the water, which was up to the
knees, felt agreeably refreshing. After some hours' toil we reached one
of the islands. Here we met an old friend, the bramble-bush. My strong
moleskins were quite worn through at the knees, and the leather trowsers
of my companion were torn and his legs bleeding. Tearing my handkerchief
in two, I tied the pieces round my knees, and then encountered another
difficulty. We were still forty or fifty yards from the clear water, but
now we were opposed by great masses of papyrus, which are like palms in
miniature, eight or ten feet high, and an inch and a half in diameter.
These were laced together by twining convolvulus, so strongly that the
weight of both of us could not make way into the clear water. At last we
fortunately found a passage prepared by a hippopotamus. Eager as soon as
we reached the island to look along the vista to clear water, I stepped in
and found it took me at once up to the neck.
Returning nearly worn out, we proceeded up the bank of the Chobe till we
came to the point of departure of the branch Sanshureh; we then went in
the opposite direction, or down the Chobe, though from the highest trees
we could see nothing but one vast expanse of reed, with here and there a
tree on the islands. This was a hard day's work; and when we came to a
deserted Bayeiye hut on an ant-hill, not a bit of wood or any thing else
could be got for a fire except the grass and sticks of the dwelling
itself. I dreaded the "Tampans", so common in all old huts; but outside of
it we had thousands of mosquitoes, and cold dew began to be deposited, so
we were fain to crawl beneath its shelter.
We
were close to the reeds, and could listen to the strange sounds which are
often heard there. By day I had seen water-snakes putting up their heads
and swimming about. There were great numbers of otters (`Lutra inunguis',
F. Cuvier), which have made little spoors all over the plains in search of
the fishes, among the tall grass of these flooded prairies; curious birds,
too, jerked and wriggled among these reedy masses, and we heard human-like
voices and unearthly sounds, with splash, guggle, jupp, as if rare fun
were going on in their uncouth haunts. At one time something came near
us, making a splashing like that of a canoe or hippopotamus; thinking it
to be the Makololo, we got up, listened, and shouted; then discharged a
gun several times; but the noise continued without intermission for an
hour. After a damp, cold night we set to, early in the morning, at our
work of exploring again, but left the pontoon in order to lighten our
labor. The ant-hills are here very high, some thirty feet, and of a base
so broad that trees grow on them; while the lands, annually flooded, bear
nothing but grass. From one of these ant-hills we discovered an inlet to
the Chobe; and, having gone back for the pontoon, we launched ourselves on
a deep river, here from eighty to one hundred yards wide. I gave my
companion strict injunctions to stick by the pontoon in case a
hippopotamus should look at us; nor was this caution unnecessary, for one
came up at our side and made a desperate plunge off. We had passed over
him. The wave he made caused the pontoon to glide quickly away from him.
We paddled on from midday till sunset. There was nothing but a wall of
reed on each bank, and we saw every prospect of spending a supperless
night in our float; but just as the short twilight of these parts was
commencing, we perceived on the north bank the village of Moremi, one of
the Makololo, whose acquaintance I had made on our former visit, and who
was now located on the island Mahonta (lat. 17d 58' S., long. 24d 6' E.).
The villagers looked as we may suppose people do who see a ghost, and in
their figurative way of speaking said, "He has dropped among us from the
clouds, yet came riding on the back of a hippopotamus! We Makololo thought
no one could cross the Chobe without our knowledge, but here he drops
among us like a bird."
Next
day we returned in canoes across the flooded lands, and found that, in our
absence, the men had allowed the cattle to wander into a very small patch
of wood to the west containing the tsetse; this carelessness cost me ten
fine large oxen. After remaining a few days, some of the head men of the
Makololo came down from Linyanti, with a large party of Barotse, to take
us across the river. This they did in fine style, swimming and diving
among the oxen more like alligators than men, and taking the wagons to
pieces and carrying them across on a number of canoes lashed together. We
were now among friends; so going about thirty miles to the north, in order
to avoid the still flooded lands on the north of the Chobe, we turned
westward toward Linyanti (lat. 18d 17' 20" S., long. 23d 50' 9" E.), where
we arrived on the 23d of May, 1853. This is the capital town of the
Makololo, and only a short distance from our wagon-stand of 1851 (lat. 18d
20' S., long. 23d 50' E.). |