Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa;
Including a Sketch of Sixteen Years' Residence in the Interior of Africa,
and a Journey from the Cape of Good Hope to Loanda on the West Coast;
Thence Across the Continent, Down the River Zambesi, to the Eastern Ocean.
By David Livingstone, LL.D., D.C.L.,
Fellow of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons, Glasgow;
Corresponding Member of the Geographical and Statistical Society of New York;
Gold Medalist and Corresponding Member of the Royal Geographical Societies
of London and Paris F.S.A., Etc., Etc.
Dedication.
To
SIR RODERICK IMPEY MURCHISON,
President Royal Geographical Society, F.R.S., V.P.G.S.,
Corr. Inst. of France, and Member of the Academies of St. Petersburg,
Berlin, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Brussels, Etc.,
This Work
is affectionately offered as a Token of Gratitude for the kind interest
he has always taken in the Author's pursuits and welfare;
and to express admiration of his eminent scientific attainments,
nowhere more strongly evidenced than by the striking hypothesis
respecting the physical conformation of the African continent,
promulgated in his Presidential Address to the Royal Geographic Society
in 1852, and verified three years afterward by the Author of these Travels.
DAVID LIVINGSTONE.
London, Oct., 1857.
Preface.
When honored with a special meeting of welcome by the Royal
Geographical Society a few days after my arrival in London in December last,
Sir Roderick Murchison, the President, invited me to give the world
a narrative of my travels; and at a similar meeting of the Directors
of the London Missionary Society I publicly stated my intention of sending
a book to the press, instead of making many of those public appearances
which were urged upon me. The preparation of this narrative* has taken
much longer time than, from my inexperience in authorship, I had anticipated.
--
* Several attempts having been made to impose upon the public, as mine,
spurious narratives of my travels, I beg to tender my thanks
to the editors of the `Times' and of the `Athenaeum' for aiding
to expose them, and to the booksellers of London for refusing to SUBSCRIBE
for any copies.
--
Greater smoothness of diction and a saving of time might have been secured
by the employment of a person accustomed to compilation;
but my journals having been kept for my own private purposes,
no one else could have made use of them, or have entered with intelligence
into the circumstances in which I was placed in Africa,
far from any European companion. Those who have never carried a book
through the press can form no idea of the amount of toil it involves.
The process has increased my respect for authors and authoresses
a thousand-fold.
I can not refrain from referring, with sentiments of admiration and gratitude,
to my friend Thomas Maclear, Esq., the accomplished Astronomer Royal
at the Cape. I shall never cease to remember his instructions and help
with real gratitude. The intercourse I had the privilege to enjoy
at the Observatory enabled me to form an idea of the almost infinite
variety of acquirements necessary to form a true and great astronomer,
and I was led to the conviction that it will be long before the world
becomes overstocked with accomplished members of that profession.
Let them be always honored according to their deserts;
and long may Maclear, Herschel, Airy, and others live to make known
the wonders and glory of creation, and to aid in rendering
the pathway of the world safe to mariners, and the dark places of the earth
open to Christians!
I beg to offer my hearty thanks to my friend Sir Roderick Murchison,
and also to Dr. Norton Shaw, the secretary of the Royal Geographical Society,
for aiding my researches by every means in their power.
His faithful majesty Don Pedro V., having kindly sent out orders
to support my late companions until my return, relieved my mind of anxiety
on their account. But for this act of liberality, I should certainly
have been compelled to leave England in May last; and it has afforded me
the pleasure of traveling over, in imagination, every scene again,
and recalling the feelings which actuated me at the time.
I have much pleasure in acknowledging my deep obligations
to the hospitality and kindness of the Portuguese on many occasions.
I have not entered into the early labors, trials, and successes
of the missionaries who preceded me in the Bechuana country,
because that has been done by the much abler pen of my father-in-law,
Rev. Robert Moffat, of Kuruman, who has been an energetic and devoted
actor in the scene for upward of forty years. A slight sketch only
is given of my own attempts, and the chief part of the book
is taken up with a detail of the efforts made to open up a new field
north of the Bechuana country to the sympathies of Christendom.
The prospects there disclosed are fairer than I anticipated,
and the capabilities of the new region lead me to hope
that by the production of the raw materials of our manufactures,
African and English interests will become more closely linked
than heretofore, that both countries will be eventually benefited,
and that the cause of freedom throughout the world will in some measure
be promoted.
Dr. Hooker, of Kew, has had the kindness to name and classify for me,
as far as possible, some of the new botanical specimens which I brought over;
Dr. Andrew Smith (himself an African traveler) has aided me in the zoology;
and Captain Need has laid open for my use his portfolio of African sketches,
for all which acts of liberality my thanks are deservedly due,
as well as to my brother, who has rendered me willing aid as an amanuensis.
Although I can not profess to be a draughtsman, I brought home with me a few
rough diagram-sketches, from one of which the view of the Falls of the Zambesi
has been prepared by a more experienced artist.
October, 1857.
Contents.
Introduction.
Personal Sketch -- Highland Ancestors -- Family Traditions --
Grandfather removes to the Lowlands -- Parents -- Early Labors and Efforts
-- Evening School -- Love of Reading -- Religious Impressions --
Medical Education -- Youthful Travels -- Geology -- Mental Discipline --
Study in Glasgow -- London Missionary Society -- Native Village --
Medical Diploma -- Theological Studies -- Departure for Africa --
No Claim to Literary Accomplishments.
Chapter 1.
The Bakwain Country -- Study of the Language -- Native Ideas
regarding Comets -- Mabotsa Station -- A Lion Encounter --
Virus of the Teeth of Lions -- Names of the Bechuana Tribes --
Sechele -- His Ancestors -- Obtains the Chieftainship --
His Marriage and Government -- The Kotla -- First public Religious Services
-- Sechele's Questions -- He Learns to Read -- Novel mode
for Converting his Tribe -- Surprise at their Indifference --
Polygamy -- Baptism of Sechele -- Opposition of the Natives --
Purchase Land at Chonuane -- Relations with the People --
Their Intelligence -- Prolonged Drought -- Consequent Trials --
Rain-medicine -- God's Word blamed -- Native Reasoning -- Rain-maker --
Dispute between Rain Doctor and Medical Doctor -- The Hunting Hopo --
Salt or animal Food a necessary of Life -- Duties of a Missionary.
Chapter 2.
The Boers -- Their Treatment of the Natives -- Seizure of native Children
for Slaves -- English Traders -- Alarm of the Boers -- Native Espionage --
The Tale of the Cannon -- The Boers threaten Sechele --
In violation of Treaty, they stop English Traders and expel Missionaries --
They attack the Bakwains -- Their Mode of Fighting --
The Natives killed and the School-children carried into Slavery --
Destruction of English Property -- African Housebuilding and Housekeeping --
Mode of Spending the Day -- Scarcity of Food -- Locusts -- Edible Frogs --
Scavenger Beetle -- Continued Hostility of the Boers -- The Journey north --
Preparations -- Fellow-travelers -- The Kalahari Desert --
Vegetation -- Watermelons -- The Inhabitants -- The Bushmen --
Their nomad Mode of Life -- Appearance -- The Bakalahari --
Their Love for Agriculture and for domestic Animals -- Timid Character --
Mode of obtaining Water -- Female Water-suckers -- The Desert --
Water hidden.
Chapter 3.
Departure from Kolobeng, 1st June, 1849 -- Companions -- Our Route --
Abundance of Grass -- Serotli, a Fountain in the Desert --
Mode of digging Wells -- The Eland -- Animals of the Desert --
The Hyaena -- The Chief Sekomi -- Dangers -- The wandering Guide --
Cross Purposes -- Slow Progress -- Want of Water -- Capture of a Bushwoman
-- The Salt-pan at Nchokotsa -- The Mirage -- Reach the River Zouga --
The Quakers of Africa -- Discovery of Lake Ngami, 1st August, 1849 --
Its Extent -- Small Depth of Water -- Position as the Reservoir
of a great River System -- The Bamangwato and their Chief --
Desire to visit Sebituane, the Chief of the Makololo --
Refusal of Lechulatebe to furnish us with Guides --
Resolve to return to the Cape -- The Banks of the Zouga -- Pitfalls --
Trees of the District -- Elephants -- New Species of Antelope --
Fish in the Zouga.
Chapter 4.
Leave Kolobeng again for the Country of Sebituane -- Reach the Zouga --
The Tsetse -- A Party of Englishmen -- Death of Mr. Rider --
Obtain Guides -- Children fall sick with Fever -- Relinquish the Attempt
to reach Sebituane -- Mr. Oswell's Elephant-hunting --
Return to Kolobeng -- Make a third Start thence --
Reach Nchokotsa -- Salt-pans -- "Links", or Springs -- Bushmen --
Our Guide Shobo -- The Banajoa -- An ugly Chief -- The Tsetse --
Bite fatal to domestic Animals, but harmless to wild Animals and Man --
Operation of the Poison -- Losses caused by it -- The Makololo --
Our Meeting with Sebituane -- Sketch of his Career --
His Courage and Conquests -- Manoeuvres of the Batoka -- He outwits them
-- His Wars with the Matebele -- Predictions of a native Prophet --
Successes of the Makololo -- Renewed Attacks of the Matebele --
The Island of Loyelo -- Defeat of the Matebele -- Sebituane's Policy --
His Kindness to Strangers and to the Poor -- His sudden Illness and Death --
Succeeded by his Daughter -- Her Friendliness to us -- Discovery,
in June, 1851, of the Zambesi flowing in the Centre of the Continent --
Its Size -- The Mambari -- The Slave-trade -- Determine to send Family
to England -- Return to the Cape in April, 1852 -- Safe Transit through
the Caffre Country during Hostilities -- Need of a "Special Correspondent"
-- Kindness of the London Missionary Society -- Assistance afforded
by the Astronomer Royal at the Cape.
Chapter 5.
Start in June, 1852, on the last and longest Journey from Cape Town --
Companions -- Wagon-traveling -- Physical Divisions of Africa --
The Eastern, Central, and Western Zones -- The Kalahari Desert --
Its Vegetation -- Increasing Value of the Interior for Colonization --
Our Route -- Dutch Boers -- Their Habits -- Sterile Appearance
of the District -- Failure of Grass -- Succeeded by other Plants --
Vines -- Animals -- The Boers as Farmers -- Migration of Springbucks --
Wariness of Animals -- The Orange River -- Territory of
the Griquas and Bechuanas -- The Griquas -- The Chief Waterboer --
His wise and energetic Government -- His Fidelity -- Ill-considered Measures
of the Colonial Government in regard to Supplies of Gunpowder --
Success of the Missionaries among the Griquas and Bechuanas --
Manifest Improvement of the native Character -- Dress of the Natives --
A full-dress Costume -- A Native's Description of the Natives --
Articles of Commerce in the Country of the Bechuanas --
Their Unwillingness to learn, and Readiness to criticise.
Chapter 6.
Kuruman -- Its fine Fountain -- Vegetation of the District --
Remains of ancient Forests -- Vegetable Poison --
The Bible translated by Mr. Moffat -- Capabilities of the Language --
Christianity among the Natives -- The Missionaries should extend
their Labors more beyond the Cape Colony -- Model Christians --
Disgraceful Attack of the Boers on the Bakwains -- Letter from Sechele --
Details of the Attack -- Numbers of School-children carried away
into Slavery -- Destruction of House and Property at Kolobeng --
The Boers vow Vengeance against me -- Consequent Difficulty of getting
Servants to accompany me on my Journey -- Start in November, 1852 --
Meet Sechele on his way to England to obtain Redress from the Queen --
He is unable to proceed beyond the Cape -- Meet Mr. Macabe
on his Return from Lake Ngami -- The hot Wind of the Desert --
Electric State of the Atmosphere -- Flock of Swifts --
Reach Litubaruba -- The Cave Lepelole -- Superstitions regarding it --
Impoverished State of the Bakwains -- Retaliation on the Boers --
Slavery -- Attachment of the Bechuanas to Children --
Hydrophobia unknown -- Diseases of the Bakwains few in number --
Yearly Epidemics -- Hasty Burials -- Ophthalmia -- Native Doctors --
Knowledge of Surgery at a very low Ebb -- Little Attendance given to Women
at their Confinements -- The "Child Medicine" -- Salubrity of the Climate
well adapted for Invalids suffering from pulmonary Complaints.
Chapter 7.
Departure from the Country of the Bakwains -- Large black Ant --
Land Tortoises -- Diseases of wild Animals -- Habits of old Lions --
Cowardice of the Lion -- Its Dread of a Snare -- Major Vardon's Note --
The Roar of the Lion resembles the Cry of the Ostrich --
Seldom attacks full-grown Animals -- Buffaloes and Lions --
Mice -- Serpents -- Treading on one -- Venomous and harmless Varieties --
Fascination -- Sekomi's Ideas of Honesty -- Ceremony of the Sechu for Boys
-- The Boyale for young Women -- Bamangwato Hills -- The Unicorn's Pass --
The Country beyond -- Grain -- Scarcity of Water -- Honorable Conduct
of English Gentlemen -- Gordon Cumming's hunting Adventures --
A Word of Advice for young Sportsmen -- Bushwomen drawing Water --
Ostrich -- Silly Habit -- Paces -- Eggs -- Food.
Chapter 8.
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.
Chapter 9.
Reception at Linyanti -- The court Herald -- Sekeletu obtains
the Chieftainship from his Sister -- Mpepe's Plot -- Slave-trading Mambari
-- Their sudden Flight -- Sekeletu narrowly escapes Assassination --
Execution of Mpepe -- The Courts of Law -- Mode of trying Offenses --
Sekeletu's Reason for not learning to read the Bible --
The Disposition made of the Wives of a deceased Chief --
Makololo Women -- They work but little -- Employ Serfs --
Their Drink, Dress, and Ornaments -- Public Religious Services in the Kotla
-- Unfavorable Associations of the place -- Native Doctors --
Proposals to teach the Makololo to read -- Sekeletu's Present --
Reason for accepting it -- Trading in Ivory -- Accidental Fire --
Presents for Sekeletu -- Two Breeds of native Cattle --
Ornamenting the Cattle -- The Women and the Looking-glass --
Mode of preparing the Skins of Oxen for Mantles and for Shields --
Throwing the Spear.
Chapter 10.
The Fever -- Its Symptoms -- Remedies of the native Doctors --
Hospitality of Sekeletu and his People -- One of their Reasons for Polygamy
-- They cultivate largely -- The Makalaka or subject Tribes --
Sebituane's Policy respecting them -- Their Affection for him --
Products of the Soil -- Instrument of Culture -- The Tribute --
Distributed by the Chief -- A warlike Demonstration --
Lechulatebe's Provocations -- The Makololo determine to punish him --
The Bechuanas -- Meaning of the Term -- Three Divisions of the great
Family of South Africans.
Chapter 11.
Departure from Linyanti for Sesheke -- Level Country -- Ant-hills --
Wild Date-trees -- Appearance of our Attendants on the March --
The Chief's Guard -- They attempt to ride on Ox-back --
Vast Herds of the new Antelopes, Leches, and Nakongs --
The native way of hunting them -- Reception at the Villages --
Presents of Beer and Milk -- Eating with the Hand --
The Chief provides the Oxen for Slaughter -- Social Mode of Eating --
The Sugar-cane -- Sekeletu's novel Test of Character --
Cleanliness of Makololo Huts -- Their Construction and Appearance --
The Beds -- Cross the Leeambye -- Aspect of this part of the Country --
The small Antelope Tianyane unknown in the South -- Hunting on foot --
An Eland.
Chapter 12.
Procure Canoes and ascend the Leeambye -- Beautiful Islands --
Winter Landscape -- Industry and Skill of the Banyeti --
Rapids -- Falls of Gonye -- Tradition -- Annual Inundations --
Fertility of the great Barotse Valley -- Execution of two Conspirators --
The Slave-dealer's Stockade -- Naliele, the Capital,
built on an artificial Mound -- Santuru, a great Hunter --
The Barotse Method of commemorating any remarkable Event --
Better Treatment of Women -- More religious Feeling -- Belief in
a future State, and in the Existence of spiritual Beings -- Gardens --
Fish, Fruit, and Game -- Proceed to the Limits of the Barotse Country --
Sekeletu provides Rowers and a Herald -- The River and Vicinity --
Hippopotamus-hunters -- No healthy Location -- Determine to go to Loanda --
Buffaloes, Elands, and Lions above Libonta -- Interview with the Mambari --
Two Arabs from Zanzibar -- Their Opinion of the Portuguese and the English
-- Reach the Town of Ma-Sekeletu -- Joy of the People
at the first Visit of their Chief -- Return to Sesheke -- Heathenism.
Chapter 13.
Preliminary Arrangements for the Journey -- A Picho -- Twenty-seven Men
appointed to accompany me to the West -- Eagerness of the Makololo
for direct Trade with the Coast -- Effects of Fever -- A Makololo Question
-- The lost Journal -- Reflections -- The Outfit for the Journey --
11th November, 1853, leave Linyanti, and embark on the Chobe --
Dangerous Hippopotami -- Banks of Chobe -- Trees -- The Course of the River
-- The Island Mparia at the Confluence of the Chobe and the Leeambye --
Anecdote -- Ascend the Leeambye -- A Makalaka Mother defies the Authority
of the Makololo Head Man at Sesheke -- Punishment of Thieves --
Observance of the new Moon -- Public Addresses at Sesheke --
Attention of the People -- Results -- Proceed up the River --
The Fruit which yields `Nux vomica' -- Other Fruits -- The Rapids --
Birds -- Fish -- Hippopotami and their Young.
Chapter 14.
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.
Chapter 15.
Message to Masiko, the Barotse Chief, regarding the Captives --
Navigation of the Leeambye -- Capabilities of this District --
The Leeba -- Flowers and Bees -- Buffalo-hunt -- Field for a Botanist --
Young Alligators; their savage Nature -- Suspicion of the Balonda --
Sekelenke's Present -- A Man and his two Wives -- Hunters --
Message from Manenko, a female Chief -- Mambari Traders -- A Dream --
Sheakondo and his People -- Teeth-filing -- Desire for Butter --
Interview with Nyamoana, another female Chief -- Court Etiquette --
Hair versus Wool -- Increase of Superstition -- Arrival of Manenko;
her Appearance and Husband -- Mode of Salutation -- Anklets --
Embassy, with a Present from Masiko -- Roast Beef -- Manioc --
Magic Lantern -- Manenko an accomplished Scold: compels us to wait --
Unsuccessful Zebra-hunt.
Chapter 16.
Nyamoana's Present -- Charms -- Manenko's pedestrian Powers -- An Idol --
Balonda Arms -- Rain -- Hunger -- Palisades -- Dense Forests --
Artificial Beehives -- Mushrooms -- Villagers lend the Roofs of their Houses
-- Divination and Idols -- Manenko's Whims -- A night Alarm --
Shinte's Messengers and Present -- The proper Way to approach a Village --
A Merman -- Enter Shinte's Town: its Appearance --
Meet two half-caste Slave-traders -- The Makololo scorn them --
The Balonda real Negroes -- Grand Reception from Shinte --
His Kotla -- Ceremony of Introduction -- The Orators -- Women --
Musicians and Musical Instruments -- A disagreeable Request --
Private Interviews with Shinte -- Give him an Ox -- Fertility of Soil --
Manenko's new Hut -- Conversation with Shinte -- Kolimbota's Proposal --
Balonda's Punctiliousness -- Selling Children -- Kidnapping --
Shinte's Offer of a Slave -- Magic Lantern -- Alarm of Women --
Delay -- Sambanza returns intoxicated -- The last and greatest
Proof of Shinte's Friendship.
Chapter 17.
Leave Shinte -- Manioc Gardens -- Mode of preparing the poisonous kind --
Its general Use -- Presents of Food -- Punctiliousness of the Balonda --
Their Idols and Superstition -- Dress of the Balonda --
Villages beyond Lonaje -- Cazembe -- Our Guides and the Makololo --
Night Rains -- Inquiries for English cotton Goods -- Intemese's Fiction --
Visit from an old Man -- Theft -- Industry of our Guide --
Loss of Pontoon -- Plains covered with Water -- Affection of the Balonda
for their Mothers -- A Night on an Island -- The Grass on the Plains --
Source of the Rivers -- Loan of the Roofs of Huts -- A Halt --
Fertility of the Country through which the Lokalueje flows --
Omnivorous Fish -- Natives' Mode of catching them --
The Village of a Half-brother of Katema, his Speech and Present --
Our Guide's Perversity -- Mozenkwa's pleasant Home and Family --
Clear Water of the flooded Rivers -- A Messenger from Katema --
Quendende's Village: his Kindness -- Crop of Wool --
Meet People from the Town of Matiamvo -- Fireside Talk --
Matiamvo's Character and Conduct -- Presentation at Katema's Court:
his Present, good Sense, and Appearance -- Interview on the following Day --
Cattle -- A Feast and a Makololo Dance -- Arrest of a Fugitive --
Dignified old Courtier -- Katema's lax Government --
Cold Wind from the North -- Canaries and other singing Birds --
Spiders, their Nests and Webs -- Lake Dilolo -- Tradition --
Sagacity of Ants.
Chapter 18.
The Watershed between the northern and southern Rivers -- A deep Valley --
Rustic Bridge -- Fountains on the Slopes of the Valleys --
Village of Kabinje -- Good Effects of the Belief in the Power of Charms --
Demand for Gunpowder and English Calico -- The Kasai -- Vexatious Trick --
Want of Food -- No Game -- Katende's unreasonable Demand --
A grave Offense -- Toll-bridge Keeper -- Greedy Guides --
Flooded Valleys -- Swim the Nyuana Loke -- Prompt Kindness of my Men --
Makololo Remarks on the rich uncultivated Valleys --
Difference in the Color of Africans -- Reach a Village of the Chiboque --
The Head Man's impudent Message -- Surrounds our Encampment
with his Warriors -- The Pretense -- Their Demand -- Prospect of a Fight --
Way in which it was averted -- Change our Path -- Summer --
Fever -- Beehives and the Honey-guide -- Instinct of Trees --
Climbers -- The Ox Sinbad -- Absence of Thorns in the Forests --
Plant peculiar to a forsaken Garden -- Bad Guides --
Insubordination suppressed -- Beset by Enemies -- A Robber Party --
More Troubles -- Detained by Ionga Panza -- His Village --
Annoyed by Bangala Traders -- My Men discouraged --
Their Determination and Precaution.
Chapter 19.
Guides prepaid -- Bark Canoes -- Deserted by Guides --
Mistakes respecting the Coanza -- Feelings of freed Slaves --
Gardens and Villages -- Native Traders -- A Grave -- Valley of the Quango --
Bamboo -- White Larvae used as Food -- Bashinje Insolence --
A posing Question -- The Chief Sansawe -- His Hostility --
Pass him safely -- The River Quango -- Chief's mode of dressing his Hair --
Opposition -- Opportune Aid by Cypriano -- His generous Hospitality --
Ability of Half-castes to read and write -- Books and Images --
Marauding Party burned in the Grass -- Arrive at Cassange -- A good Supper
-- Kindness of Captain Neves -- Portuguese Curiosity and Questions --
Anniversary of the Resurrection -- No Prejudice against Color --
Country around Cassange -- Sell Sekeletu's Ivory -- Makololo's Surprise
at the high Price obtained -- Proposal to return Home, and Reasons --
Soldier-guide -- Hill Kasala -- Tala Mungongo, Village of --
Civility of Basongo -- True Negroes -- A Field of Wheat --
Carriers -- Sleeping-places -- Fever -- Enter District of Ambaca --
Good Fruits of Jesuit Teaching -- The `Tampan'; its Bite --
Universal Hospitality of the Portuguese -- A Tale of the Mambari --
Exhilarating Effects of Highland Scenery -- District of Golungo Alto --
Want of good Roads -- Fertility -- Forests of gigantic Timber --
Native Carpenters -- Coffee Estate -- Sterility of Country near the Coast --
Mosquitoes -- Fears of the Makololo -- Welcome by Mr. Gabriel to Loanda.
Chapter 20.
Continued Sickness -- Kindness of the Bishop of Angola
and her Majesty's Officers -- Mr. Gabriel's unwearied Hospitality --
Serious Deportment of the Makololo -- They visit Ships of War --
Politeness of the Officers and Men -- The Makololo attend Mass
in the Cathedral -- Their Remarks -- Find Employment
in collecting Firewood and unloading Coal -- Their superior Judgment
respecting Goods -- Beneficial Influence of the Bishop of Angola --
The City of St. Paul de Loanda -- The Harbor -- Custom-house --
No English Merchants -- Sincerity of the Portuguese Government
in suppressing the Slave-trade -- Convict Soldiers --
Presents from Bishop and Merchants for Sekeletu -- Outfit -- Leave Loanda
20th September, 1854 -- Accompanied by Mr. Gabriel as far as Icollo i Bengo
-- Sugar Manufactory -- Geology of this part of the Country --
Women spinning Cotton -- Its Price -- Native Weavers -- Market-places --
Cazengo; its Coffee Plantations -- South American Trees --
Ruins of Iron Foundry -- Native Miners -- The Banks of the Lucalla --
Cottages with Stages -- Tobacco-plants -- Town of Massangano --
Sugar and Rice -- Superior District for Cotton -- Portuguese Merchants
and foreign Enterprise -- Ruins -- The Fort and its ancient Guns --
Former Importance of Massangano -- Fires -- The Tribe Kisama --
Peculiar Variety of Domestic Fowl -- Coffee Plantations --
Return to Golungo Alto -- Self-complacency of the Makololo --
Fever -- Jaundice -- Insanity.
Chapter 21.
Visit a deserted Convent -- Favorable Report of Jesuits and their Teaching
-- Gradations of native Society -- Punishment of Thieves --
Palm-toddy; its baneful Effects -- Freemasons -- Marriages and Funerals --
Litigation -- Mr. Canto's Illness -- Bad Behavior of his Slaves --
An Entertainment -- Ideas on Free Labor -- Loss of American Cotton-seed --
Abundance of Cotton in the country -- Sickness of Sekeletu's Horse --
Eclipse of the Sun -- Insects which distill Water --
Experiments with them -- Proceed to Ambaca -- Sickly Season --
Office of Commandant -- Punishment of official Delinquents --
Present from Mr. Schut of Loanda -- Visit Pungo Andongo --
Its good Pasturage, Grain, Fruit, etc. -- The Fort and columnar Rocks --
The Queen of Jinga -- Salubrity of Pungo Andongo -- Price of a Slave --
A Merchant-prince -- His Hospitality -- Hear of the Loss of my Papers
in "Forerunner" -- Narrow Escape from an Alligator --
Ancient Burial-places -- Neglect of Agriculture in Angola --
Manioc the staple Product -- Its Cheapness -- Sickness --
Friendly Visit from a colored Priest -- The Prince of Congo --
No Priests in the Interior of Angola.
Chapter 22.
Leave Pungo Andongo -- Extent of Portuguese Power --
Meet Traders and Carriers -- Red Ants; their fierce Attack;
Usefulness; Numbers -- Descend the Heights of Tala Mungongo --
Fruit-trees in the Valley of Cassange -- Edible Muscle --
Birds -- Cassange Village -- Quinine and Cathory --
Sickness of Captain Neves' Infant -- A Diviner thrashed --
Death of the Child -- Mourning -- Loss of Life from the Ordeal --
Wide-spread Superstitions -- The Chieftainship -- Charms --
Receive Copies of the "Times" -- Trading Pombeiros --
Present for Matiamvo -- Fever after westerly Winds -- Capabilities of Angola
for producing the raw Materials of English Manufacture --
Trading Parties with Ivory -- More Fever -- A Hyaena's Choice --
Makololo Opinion of the Portuguese -- Cypriano's Debt -- A Funeral --
Dread of disembodied Spirits -- Beautiful Morning Scenes --
Crossing the Quango -- Ambakistas called "The Jews of Angola" --
Fashions of the Bashinje -- Approach the Village of Sansawe --
His Idea of Dignity -- The Pombeiros' Present -- Long Detention --
A Blow on the Beard -- Attacked in a Forest -- Sudden Conversion
of a fighting Chief to Peace Principles by means of a Revolver --
No Blood shed in consequence -- Rate of Traveling -- Slave Women --
Way of addressing Slaves -- Their thievish Propensities --
Feeders of the Congo or Zaire -- Obliged to refuse Presents --
Cross the Loajima -- Appearance of People; Hair Fashions.
Chapter 23.
Make a Detour southward -- Peculiarities of the Inhabitants --
Scarcity of Animals -- Forests -- Geological Structure of the Country --
Abundance and Cheapness of Food near the Chihombo -- A Slave lost --
The Makololo Opinion of Slaveholders -- Funeral Obsequies in Cabango --
Send a Sketch of the Country to Mr. Gabriel -- Native Information
respecting the Kasai and Quango -- The Trade with Luba --
Drainage of Londa -- Report of Matiamvo's Country and Government --
Senhor Faria's Present to a Chief -- The Balonda Mode of spending Time --
Faithless Guide -- Makololo lament the Ignorance of the Balonda --
Eagerness of the Villagers for Trade -- Civility of a Female Chief --
The Chief Bango and his People -- Refuse to eat Beef -- Ambition of Africans
to have a Village -- Winters in the Interior -- Spring at Kolobeng --
White Ants: "Never could desire to eat any thing better" --
Young Herbage and Animals -- Valley of the Loembwe --
The white Man a Hobgoblin -- Specimen of Quarreling --
Eager Desire for Calico -- Want of Clothing at Kawawa's --
Funeral Observances -- Agreeable Intercourse with Kawawa --
His impudent Demand -- Unpleasant Parting -- Kawawa tries to prevent
our crossing the River Kasai -- Stratagem.
Chapter 24.
Level Plains -- Vultures and other Birds -- Diversity of Color in Flowers
of the same Species -- The Sundew -- Twenty-seventh Attack of Fever --
A River which flows in opposite Directions -- Lake Dilolo the Watershed
between the Atlantic and Indian Oceans -- Position of Rocks --
Sir Roderick Murchison's Explanation -- Characteristics of the Rainy Season
in connection with the Floods of the Zambesi and the Nile --
Probable Reason of Difference in Amount of Rain South and North
of the Equator -- Arab Reports of Region east of Londa --
Probable Watershed of the Zambesi and the Nile -- Lake Dilolo --
Reach Katema's Town: his renewed Hospitality; desire to appear
like a White Man; ludicrous Departure -- Jackdaws --
Ford southern Branch of Lake Dilolo -- Small Fish -- Project for
a Makololo Village near the Confluence of the Leeba and the Leeambye --
Hearty Welcome from Shinte -- Kolimbota's Wound --
Plant-seeds and Fruit-trees brought from Angola --
Masiko and Limboa's Quarrel -- Nyamoana now a Widow --
Purchase Canoes and descend the Leeba -- Herds of wild Animals on its Banks
-- Unsuccessful Buffalo-hunt -- Frogs -- Sinbad and the Tsetse --
Dispatch a Message to Manenko -- Arrival of her Husband Sambanza --
The Ceremony called Kasendi -- Unexpected Fee for performing
a surgical Operation -- Social Condition of the Tribes --
Desertion of Mboenga -- Stratagem of Mambowe Hunters -- Water-turtles --
Charged by a Buffalo -- Reception from the People of Libonta --
Explain the Causes of our long Delay -- Pitsane's Speech --
Thanksgiving Services -- Appearance of my "Braves" --
Wonderful Kindness of the People.
Chapter 25.
Colony of Birds called Linkololo -- The Village of Chitlane --
Murder of Mpololo's Daughter -- Execution of the Murderer and his Wife --
My Companions find that their Wives have married other Husbands --
Sunday -- A Party from Masiko -- Freedom of Speech -- Canoe struck
by a Hippopotamus -- Gonye -- Appearance of Trees at the end of Winter --
Murky Atmosphere -- Surprising Amount of organic Life --
Hornets -- The Packages forwarded by Mr. Moffat --
Makololo Suspicions and Reply to the Matebele who brought them --
Convey the Goods to an Island and build a Hut over them -- Ascertain that
Sir R. Murchison had recognized the true Form of African Continent --
Arrival at Linyanti -- A grand Picho -- Shrewd Inquiry --
Sekeletu in his Uniform -- A Trading-party sent to Loanda with Ivory --
Mr. Gabriel's Kindness to them -- Difficulties in Trading --
Two Makololo Forays during our Absence -- Report of the Country to the N.E.
-- Death of influential Men -- The Makololo desire to be nearer the Market
-- Opinions upon a Change of Residence -- Climate of Barotse Valley --
Diseases -- Author's Fevers not a fair Criterion in the Matter --
The Interior an inviting Field for the Philanthropist -- Consultations about
a Path to the East Coast -- Decide on descending North Bank of Zambesi --
Wait for the Rainy Season -- Native way of spending Time during the period
of greatest Heat -- Favorable Opening for Missionary Enterprise --
Ben Habib wishes to marry -- A Maiden's Choice -- Sekeletu's Hospitality --
Sulphureted Hydrogen and Malaria -- Conversations with Makololo --
Their moral Character and Conduct -- Sekeletu wishes to purchase
a Sugar-mill, etc. -- The Donkeys -- Influence among the Natives --
"Food fit for a Chief" -- Parting Words of Mamire -- Motibe's Excuses.
Chapter 26.
Departure from Linyanti -- A Thunder-storm -- An Act of genuine Kindness --
Fitted out a second time by the Makololo -- Sail down the Leeambye --
Sekote's Kotla and human Skulls; his Grave adorned with Elephants' Tusks --
Victoria Falls -- Native Names -- Columns of Vapor -- Gigantic Crack --
Wear of the Rocks -- Shrines of the Barimo -- "The Pestle of the Gods" --
Second Visit to the Falls -- Island Garden -- Store-house Island --
Native Diviners -- A European Diviner -- Makololo Foray --
Marauder to be fined -- Mambari -- Makololo wish to stop
Mambari Slave-trading -- Part with Sekeletu -- Night Traveling --
River Lekone -- Ancient fresh-water Lakes -- Formation of Lake Ngami --
Native Traditions -- Drainage of the Great Valley --
Native Reports of the Country to the North -- Maps -- Moyara's Village --
Savage Customs of the Batoka -- A Chain of Trading Stations --
Remedy against Tsetse -- "The Well of Joy" -- First Traces of Trade
with Europeans -- Knocking out the front Teeth -- Facetious Explanation --
Degradation of the Batoka -- Description of the Traveling Party --
Cross the Unguesi -- Geological Formation -- Ruins of a large Town --
Productions of the Soil similar to those in Angola -- Abundance of Fruit.
Chapter 27.
Low Hills -- Black Soldier-Ants; their Cannibalism --
The Plasterer and its Chloroform -- White Ants; their Usefulness --
Mutokwane-smoking; its Effects -- Border Territory --
Healthy Table-lands -- Geological Formation -- Cicadae --
Trees -- Flowers -- River Kalomo -- Physical Conformation of Country --
Ridges, sanatoria -- A wounded Buffalo assisted -- Buffalo-bird --
Rhinoceros-bird -- Leaders of Herds -- The Honey-guide --
The White Mountain -- Mozuma River -- Sebituane's old Home --
Hostile Village -- Prophetic Phrensy -- Food of the Elephant --
Ant-hills -- Friendly Batoka -- Clothing despised -- Method of Salutation --
Wild Fruits -- The Captive released -- Longings for Peace --
Pingola's Conquests -- The Village of Monze -- Aspect of the Country --
Visit from the Chief Monze and his Wife -- Central healthy Locations --
Friendly Feelings of the People in reference to a white Resident --
Fertility of the Soil -- Bashukulompo Mode of dressing their Hair --
Gratitude of the Prisoner we released -- Kindness and Remarks
of Monze's Sister -- Dip of the Rocks -- Vegetation --
Generosity of the Inhabitants -- Their Anxiety for Medicine --
Hooping-cough -- Birds and Rain.
Chapter 28.
Beautiful Valley -- Buffalo -- My young Men kill two Elephants --
The Hunt -- Mode of measuring Height of live Elephants --
Wild Animals smaller here than in the South, though their Food
is more abundant -- The Elephant a dainty Feeder -- Semalembue --
His Presents -- Joy in prospect of living in Peace -- Trade --
His People's way of wearing their Hair -- Their Mode of Salutation --
Old Encampment -- Sebituane's former Residence -- Ford of Kafue --
Hippopotami -- Hills and Villages -- Geological Formation --
Prodigious Quantities of large Game -- Their Tameness -- Rains --
Less Sickness than in the Journey to Loanda -- Reason --
Charge from an Elephant -- Vast Amount of animal Life on the Zambesi --
Water of River discolored -- An Island with Buffaloes and Men on it --
Native Devices for killing Game -- Tsetse now in Country --
Agricultural Industry -- An Albino murdered by his Mother --
"Guilty of Tlolo" -- Women who make their Mouths "like those of Ducks" --
First Symptom of the Slave-trade on this side -- Selole's Hostility --
An armed Party hoaxed -- An Italian Marauder slain --
Elephant's Tenacity of Life -- A Word to young Sportsmen --
Mr. Oswell's Adventure with an Elephant; narrow Escape --
Mburuma's Village -- Suspicious Conduct of his People --
Guides attempt to detain us -- The Village and People of Ma Mburuma --
Character our Guides give of us.
Chapter 29.
Confluence of Loangwa and Zambesi -- Hostile Appearances --
Ruins of a Church -- Turmoil of Spirit -- Cross the River --
Friendly Parting -- Ruins of stone Houses -- The Situation of Zumbo
for Commerce -- Pleasant Gardens -- Dr. Lacerda's Visit to Cazembe --
Pereira's Statement -- Unsuccessful Attempt to establish Trade
with the People of Cazembe -- One of my Men tossed by a Buffalo --
Meet a Man with Jacket and Hat on -- Hear of the Portuguese and native War
-- Holms and Terraces on the Banks of a River -- Dancing for Corn --
Beautiful Country -- Mpende's Hostility -- Incantations --
A Fight anticipated -- Courage and Remarks of my Men --
Visit from two old Councilors of Mpende -- Their Opinion of the English --
Mpende concludes not to fight us -- His subsequent Friendship --
Aids us to cross the River -- The Country -- Sweet Potatoes --
Bakwain Theory of Rain confirmed -- Thunder without Clouds --
Desertion of one of my Men -- Other Natives' Ideas of the English --
Dalama (gold) -- Inhabitants dislike Slave-buyers --
Meet native Traders with American Calico -- Game-laws --
Elephant Medicine -- Salt from the Sand -- Fertility of Soil --
Spotted Hyaena -- Liberality and Politeness of the People --
Presents -- A stingy white Trader -- Natives' Remarks about him --
Effect on their Minds -- Rain and Wind now from an opposite Direction --
Scarcity of Fuel -- Trees for Boat-building -- Boroma --
Freshets -- Leave the River -- Chicova, its Geological Features --
Small Rapid near Tete -- Loquacious Guide -- Nyampungo, the Rain-charmer --
An old Man -- No Silver -- Gold-washing -- No Cattle.
Chapter 30.
An Elephant-hunt -- Offering and Prayers to the Barimo for Success --
Native Mode of Expression -- Working of Game-laws -- A Feast --
Laughing Hyaenas -- Numerous Insects -- Curious Notes of Birds of Song --
Caterpillars -- Butterflies -- Silica -- The Fruit Makoronga and Elephants
-- Rhinoceros Adventure -- Korwe Bird -- Its Nest -- A real Confinement --
Honey and Beeswax -- Superstitious Reverence for the Lion --
Slow Traveling -- Grapes -- The Ue -- Monina's Village --
Native Names -- Government of the Banyai -- Electing a Chief --
Youths instructed in "Bonyai" -- Suspected of Falsehood --
War-dance -- Insanity and Disappearance of Monahin -- Fruitless Search --
Monina's Sympathy -- The Sand-river Tangwe -- The Ordeal Muavi:
its Victims -- An unreasonable Man -- "Woman's Rights" --
Presents -- Temperance -- A winding Course to shun Villages --
Banyai Complexion and Hair -- Mushrooms -- The Tubers, Mokuri --
The Tree Shekabakadzi -- Face of the Country -- Pot-holes --
Pursued by a Party of Natives -- Unpleasant Threat --
Aroused by a Company of Soldiers -- A civilized Breakfast --
Arrival at Tete.
Chapter 31.
Kind Reception from the Commandant -- His Generosity to my Men --
The Village of Tete -- The Population -- Distilled Spirits --
The Fort -- Cause of the Decadence of Portuguese Power --
Former Trade -- Slaves employed in Gold-washing -- Slave-trade drained
the Country of Laborers -- The Rebel Nyaude's Stockade -- He burns Tete --
Kisaka's Revolt and Ravages -- Extensive Field of Sugar-cane --
The Commandant's good Reputation among the Natives --
Providential Guidance -- Seams of Coal -- A hot Spring --
Picturesque Country -- Water-carriage to the Coal-fields --
Workmen's Wages -- Exports -- Price of Provisions -- Visit Gold-washings --
The Process of obtaining the precious Metal -- Coal within a Gold-field --
Present from Major Sicard -- Natives raise Wheat, etc. --
Liberality of the Commandant -- Geographical Information
from Senhor Candido -- Earthquakes -- Native Ideas of a Supreme Being --
Also of the Immortality and Transmigration of Souls -- Fondness for Display
at Funerals -- Trade Restrictions -- Former Jesuit Establishment --
State of Religion and Education at Tete -- Inundation of the Zambesi --
Cotton cultivated -- The fibrous Plants Conge and Buaze --
Detained by Fever -- The Kumbanzo Bark -- Native Medicines -- Iron,
its Quality -- Hear of Famine at Kilimane -- Death of a Portuguese Lady --
The Funeral -- Disinterested Kindness of the Portuguese.
Chapter 32.
Leave Tete and proceed down the River -- Pass the Stockade of Bonga --
Gorge of Lupata -- "Spine of the World" -- Width of River --
Islands -- War Drum at Shiramba -- Canoe Navigation -- Reach Senna --
Its ruinous State -- Landeens levy Fines upon the Inhabitants --
Cowardice of native Militia -- State of the Revenue -- No direct Trade
with Portugal -- Attempts to revive the Trade of Eastern Africa --
Country round Senna -- Gorongozo, a Jesuit Station --
Manica, the best Gold Region in Eastern Africa -- Boat-building at Senna --
Our Departure -- Capture of a Rebel Stockade -- Plants Alfacinya and Njefu
at the Confluence of the Shire -- Landeen Opinion of the Whites --
Mazaro, the point reached by Captain Parker -- His Opinion
respecting the Navigation of the River from this to the Ocean --
Lieutenant Hoskins' Remarks on the same subject -- Fever, its Effects --
Kindly received into the House of Colonel Nunes at Kilimane --
Forethought of Captain Nolloth and Dr. Walsh -- Joy imbittered --
Deep Obligations to the Earl of Clarendon, etc. -- On developing
Resources of the Interior -- Desirableness of Missionary Societies
selecting healthy Stations -- Arrangements on leaving my Men --
Retrospect -- Probable Influence of the Discoveries on Slavery --
Supply of Cotton, Sugar, etc., by Free Labor -- Commercial Stations --
Development of the Resources of Africa a Work of Time -- Site of Kilimane --
Unhealthiness -- Death of a shipwrecked Crew from Fever --
The Captain saved by Quinine -- Arrival of H. M. Brig "Frolic" --
Anxiety of one of my Men to go to England -- Rough Passage in the Boats
to the Ship -- Sekwebu's Alarm -- Sail for Mauritius -- Sekwebu on board;
he becomes insane; drowns himself -- Kindness of Major-General C. M. Hay --
Escape Shipwreck -- Reach Home.
Appendix. -- Latitudes and Longitudes of Positions.
Appendix. -- Book Review in Harper's New Monthly Magazine, February, 1858.
--------------------------------------------------
Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa.
--------------------------------------------------
Introduction.
Personal Sketch -- Highland Ancestors -- Family Traditions --
Grandfather removes to the Lowlands -- Parents -- Early Labors and Efforts
-- Evening School -- Love of Reading -- Religious Impressions --
Medical Education -- Youthful Travels -- Geology -- Mental Discipline --
Study in Glasgow -- London Missionary Society -- Native Village --
Medical Diploma -- Theological Studies -- Departure for Africa --
No Claim to Literary Accomplishments.
My own inclination would lead me to say as little as possible about myself;
but several friends, in whose judgment I have confidence,
have suggested that, as the reader likes to know something about the author,
a short account of his origin and early life would lend additional interest
to this book. Such is my excuse for the following egotism;
and, if an apology be necessary for giving a genealogy,
I find it in the fact that it is not very long, and contains only one incident
of which I have reason to be proud.
Our great-grandfather fell at the battle of Culloden, fighting for
the old line of kings; and our grandfather was a small farmer in Ulva,
where my father was born. It is one of that cluster of the Hebrides
thus alluded to by Walter Scott:
"And Ulva dark, and Colonsay,
And all the group of islets gay
That guard famed Staffa round."*
--
* Lord of the Isles, canto 4.
--
Our grandfather was intimately acquainted with all the traditionary legends
which that great writer has since made use of in the "Tales of a Grandfather"
and other works. As a boy I remember listening to him with delight,
for his memory was stored with a never-ending stock of stories,
many of which were wonderfully like those I have since heard
while sitting by the African evening fires. Our grandmother, too,
used to sing Gaelic songs, some of which, as she believed, had been composed
by captive islanders languishing hopelessly among the Turks.
Grandfather could give particulars of the lives of his ancestors for
six generations of the family before him; and the only point of the tradition
I feel proud of is this: One of these poor hardy islanders
was renowned in the district for great wisdom and prudence;
and it is related that, when he was on his death-bed,
he called all his children around him and said, "Now, in my lifetime,
I have searched most carefully through all the traditions
I could find of our family, and I never could discover
that there was a dishonest man among our forefathers. If, therefore,
any of you or any of your children should take to dishonest ways,
it will not be because it runs in our blood: it does not belong to you.
I leave this precept with you: Be honest." If, therefore,
in the following pages I fall into any errors, I hope they will be dealt with
as honest mistakes, and not as indicating that I have forgotten
our ancient motto. This event took place at a time when the Highlanders,
according to Macaulay, were much like the Cape Caffres,
and any one, it was said, could escape punishment for cattle-stealing
by presenting a share of the plunder to his chieftain.
Our ancestors were Roman Catholics; they were made Protestants
by the laird coming round with a man having a yellow staff,
which would seem to have attracted more attention than his teaching,
for the new religion went long afterward, perhaps it does so still,
by the name of "the religion of the yellow stick".
Finding his farm in Ulva insufficient to support a numerous family,
my grandfather removed to Blantyre Works, a large cotton manufactory
on the beautiful Clyde, above Glasgow; and his sons,
having had the best education the Hebrides afforded,
were gladly received as clerks by the proprietors, Monteith and Co.
He himself, highly esteemed for his unflinching honesty, was employed
in the conveyance of large sums of money from Glasgow to the works,
and in old age was, according to the custom of that company, pensioned off,
so as to spend his declining years in ease and comfort.
Our uncles all entered his majesty's service during the last French war,
either as soldiers or sailors; but my father remained at home,
and, though too conscientious ever to become rich as a small tea-dealer,
by his kindliness of manner and winning ways he made the heart-strings
of his children twine around him as firmly as if he had possessed,
and could have bestowed upon them, every worldly advantage.
He reared his children in connection with the Kirk of Scotland --
a religious establishment which has been an incalculable blessing
to that country -- but he afterward left it, and during the last
twenty years of his life held the office of deacon of an independent church
in Hamilton, and deserved my lasting gratitude and homage for presenting me,
from my infancy, with a continuously consistent pious example,
such as that ideal of which is so beautifully and truthfully portrayed
in Burns's "Cottar's Saturday Night". He died in February, 1856,
in peaceful hope of that mercy which we all expect through
the death of our Lord and Savior. I was at the time on my way below Zumbo,
expecting no greater pleasure in this country than sitting by our cottage fire
and telling him my travels. I revere his memory.
The earliest recollection of my mother recalls a picture so often seen
among the Scottish poor -- that of the anxious housewife striving to make
both ends meet. At the age of ten I was put into the factory as a "piecer",
to aid by my earnings in lessening her anxiety. With a part
of my first week's wages I purchased Ruddiman's "Rudiments of Latin",
and pursued the study of that language for many years afterward,
with unabated ardor, at an evening school, which met between
the hours of eight and ten. The dictionary part of my labors
was followed up till twelve o'clock, or later, if my mother did not interfere
by jumping up and snatching the books out of my hands. I had to be
back in the factory by six in the morning, and continue my work,
with intervals for breakfast and dinner, till eight o'clock at night.
I read in this way many of the classical authors, and knew Virgil and Horace
better at sixteen than I do now. Our schoolmaster -- happily still alive --
was supported in part by the company; he was attentive and kind,
and so moderate in his charges that all who wished for education
might have obtained it. Many availed themselves of the privilege;
and some of my schoolfellows now rank in positions far above
what they appeared ever likely to come to when in the village school.
If such a system were established in England, it would prove
a never-ending blessing to the poor.
In reading, every thing that I could lay my hands on was devoured
except novels. Scientific works and books of travels
were my especial delight; though my father, believing,
with many of his time who ought to have known better, that the former
were inimical to religion, would have preferred to have seen me
poring over the "Cloud of Witnesses", or Boston's "Fourfold State".
Our difference of opinion reached the point of open rebellion on my part,
and his last application of the rod was on my refusal to peruse Wilberforce's
"Practical Christianity". This dislike to dry doctrinal reading,
and to religious reading of every sort, continued for years afterward;
but having lighted on those admirable works of Dr. Thomas Dick,
"The Philosophy of Religion" and "The Philosophy of a Future State",
it was gratifying to find my own ideas, that religion and science
are not hostile, but friendly to each other, fully proved and enforced.
Great pains had been taken by my parents to instill the doctrines
of Christianity into my mind, and I had no difficulty in understanding
the theory of our free salvation by the atonement of our Savior, but it was
only about this time that I really began to feel the necessity and value
of a personal application of the provisions of that atonement to my own case.
The change was like what may be supposed would take place
were it possible to cure a case of "color blindness". The perfect freeness
with which the pardon of all our guilt is offered in God's book
drew forth feelings of affectionate love to Him who bought us with his blood,
and a sense of deep obligation to Him for his mercy has influenced,
in some small measure, my conduct ever since. But I shall not again
refer to the inner spiritual life which I believe then began,
nor do I intend to specify with any prominence the evangelistic labors
to which the love of Christ has since impelled me. This book will speak,
not so much of what has been done, as of what still remains to be performed,
before the Gospel can be said to be preached to all nations.
In the glow of love which Christianity inspires, I soon resolved
to devote my life to the alleviation of human misery. Turning this idea over
in my mind, I felt that to be a pioneer of Christianity in China
might lead to the material benefit of some portions of that immense empire;
and therefore set myself to obtain a medical education,
in order to be qualified for that enterprise.
In recognizing the plants pointed out in my first medical book,
that extraordinary old work on astrological medicine, Culpeper's "Herbal",
I had the guidance of a book on the plants of Lanarkshire, by Patrick.
Limited as my time was, I found opportunities to scour the whole country-side,
"collecting simples". Deep and anxious were my studies
on the still deeper and more perplexing profundities of astrology,
and I believe I got as far into that abyss of phantasies as my author said
he dared to lead me. It seemed perilous ground to tread on farther,
for the dark hint seemed to my youthful mind to loom toward
"selling soul and body to the devil", as the price of the unfathomable
knowledge of the stars. These excursions, often in company with brothers,
one now in Canada, and the other a clergyman in the United States,
gratified my intense love of nature; and though we generally returned
so unmercifully hungry and fatigued that the embryo parson shed tears,
yet we discovered, to us, so many new and interesting things,
that he was always as eager to join us next time as he was the last.
On one of these exploring tours we entered a limestone quarry --
long before geology was so popular as it is now. It is impossible to describe
the delight and wonder with which I began to collect the shells found in
the carboniferous limestone which crops out in High Blantyre and Cambuslang.
A quarry-man, seeing a little boy so engaged, looked with that pitying eye
which the benevolent assume when viewing the insane. Addressing him with,
"How ever did these shells come into these rocks?" "When God made the rocks,
he made the shells in them," was the damping reply. What a deal of trouble
geologists might have saved themselves by adopting the Turk-like philosophy
of this Scotchman!
My reading while at work was carried on by placing the book
on a portion of the spinning-jenny, so that I could catch
sentence after sentence as I passed at my work; I thus kept up
a pretty constant study undisturbed by the roar of the machinery.
To this part of my education I owe my present power of completely abstracting
the mind from surrounding noises, so as to read and write with perfect comfort
amid the play of children or near the dancing and songs of savages.
The toil of cotton-spinning, to which I was promoted in my nineteenth year,
was excessively severe on a slim, loose-jointed lad, but it was well paid for;
and it enabled me to support myself while attending medical and Greek classes
in Glasgow in winter, as also the divinity lectures of Dr. Wardlaw,
by working with my hands in summer. I never received a farthing of aid
from any one, and should have accomplished my project of going to China
as a medical missionary, in the course of time, by my own efforts, had not
some friends advised my joining the London Missionary Society on account of
its perfectly unsectarian character. It "sends neither Episcopacy,
nor Presbyterianism, nor Independency, but the Gospel of Christ
to the heathen." This exactly agreed with my ideas of what
a missionary society ought to do; but it was not without a pang
that I offered myself, for it was not quite agreeable to one
accustomed to work his own way to become in a measure dependent on others;
and I would not have been much put about though my offer had been rejected.
Looking back now on that life of toil, I can not but feel thankful
that it formed such a material part of my early education;
and, were it possible, I should like to begin life over again
in the same lowly style, and to pass through the same hardy training.
Time and travel have not effaced the feelings of respect I imbibed
for the humble inhabitants of my native village. For morality, honesty,
and intelligence, they were, in general, good specimens of the Scottish poor.
In a population of more than two thousand souls, we had, of course,
a variety of character. In addition to the common run of men,
there were some characters of sterling worth and ability,
who exerted a most beneficial influence on the children and youth of the place
by imparting gratuitous religious instruction.* Much intelligent interest
was felt by the villagers in all public questions, and they furnished a proof
that the possession of the means of education did not render them
an unsafe portion of the population. They felt kindly toward each other,
and much respected those of the neighboring gentry who,
like the late Lord Douglas, placed some confidence in their sense of honor.
Through the kindness of that nobleman, the poorest among us
could stroll at pleasure over the ancient domains of Bothwell,
and other spots hallowed by the venerable associations of which
our school-books and local traditions made us well aware;
and few of us could view the dear memorials of the past
without feeling that these carefully kept monuments were our own.
The masses of the working-people of Scotland have read history,
and are no revolutionary levelers. They rejoice in the memories
of "Wallace and Bruce and a' the lave," who are still much revered
as the former champions of freedom. And while foreigners imagine
that we want the spirit only to overturn capitalists and aristocracy,
we are content to respect our laws till we can change them,
and hate those stupid revolutions which might sweep away
time-honored institutions, dear alike to rich and poor.
--
* The reader will pardon my mentioning the names of two of these
most worthy men -- David Hogg, who addressed me on his death-bed
with the words, "Now, lad, make religion the every-day business
of your life, and not a thing of fits and starts; for if you do not,
temptation and other things will get the better of you;"
and Thomas Burke, an old Forty-second Peninsula soldier,
who has been incessant and never weary in good works for about forty years.
I was delighted to find him still alive; men like these
are an honor to their country and profession.
--
Having finished the medical curriculum and presented a thesis on a subject
which required the use of the stethoscope for its diagnosis, I unwittingly
procured for myself an examination rather more severe and prolonged than usual
among examining bodies. The reason was, that between me and the examiners
a slight difference of opinion existed as to whether this instrument
could do what was asserted. The wiser plan would have been
to have had no opinion of my own. However, I was admitted
a Licentiate of Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons. It was
with unfeigned delight I became a member of a profession
which is pre-eminently devoted to practical benevolence,
and which with unwearied energy pursues from age to age
its endeavors to lessen human woe.
But though now qualified for my original plan, the opium war was then raging,
and it was deemed inexpedient for me to proceed to China.
I had fondly hoped to have gained access to that then closed empire
by means of the healing art; but there being no prospect of an early peace
with the Chinese, and as another inviting field was opening out
through the labors of Mr. Moffat, I was induced to turn my thoughts to Africa;
and after a more extended course of theological training in England
than I had enjoyed in Glasgow, I embarked for Africa in 1840,
and, after a voyage of three months, reached Cape Town.
Spending but a short time there, I started for the interior
by going round to Algoa Bay, and soon proceeded inland,
and have spent the following sixteen years of my life,
namely, from 1840 to 1856, in medical and missionary labors there
without cost to the inhabitants.
As to those literary qualifications which are acquired by habits of writing,
and which are so important to an author, my African life
has not only not been favorable to the growth of such accomplishments,
but quite the reverse; it has made composition irksome and laborious.
I think I would rather cross the African continent again
than undertake to write another book. It is far easier to travel
than to write about it. I intended on going to Africa to continue my studies;
but as I could not brook the idea of simply entering into other men's labors
made ready to my hands, I entailed on myself, in addition to teaching,
manual labor in building and other handicraft work, which made me generally
as much exhausted and unfit for study in the evenings as ever I had been
when a cotton-spinner. The want of time for self-improvement
was the only source of regret that I experienced during my African career.
The reader, remembering this, will make allowances for the mere
gropings for light of a student who has the vanity to think himself
"not yet too old to learn". More precise information on several subjects
has necessarily been omitted in a popular work like the present;
but I hope to give such details to the scientific reader
through some other channel.
Chapter 1.
The Bakwain Country -- Study of the Language -- Native Ideas
regarding Comets -- Mabotsa Station -- A Lion Encounter --
Virus of the Teeth of Lions -- Names of the Bechuana Tribes --
Sechele -- His Ancestors -- Obtains the Chieftainship --
His Marriage and Government -- The Kotla -- First public Religious Services
-- Sechele's Questions -- He Learns to Read -- Novel mode
for Converting his Tribe -- Surprise at their Indifference --
Polygamy -- Baptism of Sechele -- Opposition of the Natives --
Purchase Land at Chonuane -- Relations with the People --
Their Intelligence -- Prolonged Drought -- Consequent Trials --
Rain-medicine -- God's Word blamed -- Native Reasoning -- Rain-maker --
Dispute between Rain Doctor and Medical Doctor -- The Hunting Hopo --
Salt or animal Food a necessary of Life -- Duties of a Missionary.
The general instructions I received from the Directors of the London
Missionary Society led me, as soon as I reached Kuruman or Lattakoo,
then, as it is now, their farthest inland station from the Cape,
to turn my attention to the north. Without waiting longer at Kuruman
than was necessary to recruit the oxen, which were pretty well tired
by the long journey from Algoa Bay, I proceeded, in company with
another missionary, to the Bakuena or Bakwain country,
and found Sechele, with his tribe, located at Shokuane.
We shortly after retraced our steps to Kuruman; but as the objects in view
were by no means to be attained by a temporary excursion of this sort,
I determined to make a fresh start into the interior as soon as possible.
Accordingly, after resting three months at Kuruman, which is
a kind of head station in the country, I returned to a spot
about fifteen miles south of Shokuane, called Lepelole (now Litubaruba).
Here, in order to obtain an accurate knowledge of the language,
I cut myself off from all European society for about six months,
and gained by this ordeal an insight into the habits, ways of thinking,
laws, and language of that section of the Bechuanas called Bakwains,
which has proved of incalculable advantage in my intercourse with them
ever since.
In this second journey to Lepelole -- so called from a cavern of that name --
I began preparations for a settlement, by making a canal to irrigate gardens,
from a stream then flowing copiously, but now quite dry.
When these preparations were well advanced, I went northward
to visit the Bakaa and Bamangwato, and the Makalaka,
living between 22 Degrees and 23 Degrees south latitude.
The Bakaa Mountains had been visited before by a trader,
who, with his people, all perished from fever. In going round
the northern part of these basaltic hills near Letloche
I was only ten days distant from the lower part of the Zouga,
which passed by the same name as Lake Ngami;* and I might then (in 1842)
have discovered that lake, had discovery alone been my object.
Most part of this journey beyond Shokuane was performed on foot,
in consequence of the draught oxen having become sick.
Some of my companions who had recently joined us, and did not know
that I understood a little of their speech, were overheard by me
discussing my appearance and powers: "He is not strong; he is quite slim,
and only appears stout because he puts himself into those bags (trowsers);
he will soon knock up." This caused my Highland blood to rise,
and made me despise the fatigue of keeping them all at the top of their speed
for days together, and until I heard them expressing
proper opinions of my pedestrian powers.
--
* Several words in the African languages begin with the ringing sound
heard in the end of the word "comING". If the reader puts an `i'
to the beginning of the name of the lake, as Ingami,
and then sounds the `i' as little as possible, he will have
the correct pronunciation. The Spanish n [ny] is employed
to denote this sound, and Ngami is spelt nyami -- naka means a tusk,
nyaka a doctor. Every vowel is sounded in all native words,
and the emphasis in pronunciation is put upon the penultimate.
--
Returning to Kuruman, in order to bring my luggage to our proposed settlement,
I was followed by the news that the tribe of Bakwains,
who had shown themselves so friendly toward me, had been driven from Lepelole
by the Barolongs, so that my prospects for the time
of forming a settlement there were at an end. One of those periodical
outbreaks of war, which seem to have occurred from time immemorial,
for the possession of cattle, had burst forth in the land,
and had so changed the relations of the tribes to each other,
that I was obliged to set out anew to look for a suitable locality
for a mission station.
In going north again, a comet blazed on our sight, exciting the wonder
of every tribe we visited. That of 1816 had been followed
by an irruption of the Matebele, the most cruel enemies
the Bechuanas ever knew, and this they thought might portend something as bad,
or it might only foreshadow the death of some great chief.
On this subject of comets I knew little more than they did themselves,
but I had that confidence in a kind, overruling Providence,
which makes such a difference between Christians and both
the ancient and modern heathen.
As some of the Bamangwato people had accompanied me to Kuruman,
I was obliged to restore them and their goods to their chief Sekomi.
This made a journey to the residence of that chief again necessary,
and, for the first time, I performed a distance of some hundred miles
on ox-back.
Returning toward Kuruman, I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa
(lat. 25d 14' south, long. 26d 30'?) as the site of a missionary station,
and thither I removed in 1843. Here an occurrence took place
concerning which I have frequently been questioned in England,
and which, but for the importunities of friends, I meant to have kept in store
to tell my children when in my dotage. The Bakatla of the village Mabotsa
were much troubled by lions, which leaped into the cattle-pens by night,
and destroyed their cows. They even attacked the herds in open day.
This was so unusual an occurrence that the people believed that
they were bewitched -- "given," as they said, "into the power of the lions
by a neighboring tribe." They went once to attack the animals,
but, being rather a cowardly people compared to Bechuanas in general
on such occasions, they returned without killing any.
It is well known that if one of a troop of lions is killed,
the others take the hint and leave that part of the country.
So, the next time the herds were attacked, I went with the people,
in order to encourage them to rid themselves of the annoyance
by destroying one of the marauders. We found the lions on a small hill
about a quarter of a mile in length, and covered with trees.
A circle of men was formed round it, and they gradually closed up,
ascending pretty near to each other. Being down below on the plain
with a native schoolmaster, named Mebalwe, a most excellent man,
I saw one of the lions sitting on a piece of rock within the now closed
circle of men. Mebalwe fired at him before I could, and the ball struck
the rock on which the animal was sitting. He bit at the spot struck,
as a dog does at a stick or stone thrown at him; then leaping away,
broke through the opening circle and escaped unhurt. The men were afraid
to attack him, perhaps on account of their belief in witchcraft.
When the circle was re-formed, we saw two other lions in it;
but we were afraid to fire lest we should strike the men,
and they allowed the beasts to burst through also. If the Bakatla had acted
according to the custom of the country, they would have speared the lions
in their attempt to get out. Seeing we could not get them
to kill one of the lions, we bent our footsteps toward the village;
in going round the end of the hill, however, I saw one of the beasts
sitting on a piece of rock as before, but this time he had a little bush
in front. Being about thirty yards off, I took a good aim at his body
through the bush, and fired both barrels into it. The men then called out,
"He is shot, he is shot!" Others cried, "He has been shot by another man too;
let us go to him!" I did not see any one else shoot at him,
but I saw the lion's tail erected in anger behind the bush,
and, turning to the people, said, "Stop a little, till I load again."
When in the act of ramming down the bullets, I heard a shout. Starting,
and looking half round, I saw the lion just in the act of springing upon me.
I was upon a little height; he caught my shoulder as he sprang, and we both
came to the ground below together. Growling horribly close to my ear,
he shook me as a terrier dog does a rat. The shock produced a stupor
similar to that which seems to be felt by a mouse after the first shake
of the cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess, in which there was
no sense of pain nor feeling of terror, though quite conscious of all
that was happening. It was like what patients partially under
the influence of chloroform describe, who see all the operation,
but feel not the knife. This singular condition was not the result of any
mental process. The shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of horror
in looking round at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced
in all animals killed by the carnivora; and if so, is a merciful provision
by our benevolent Creator for lessening the pain of death. Turning round
to relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the back of my head,
I saw his eyes directed to Mebalwe, who was trying to shoot him
at a distance of ten or fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one,
missed fire in both barrels; the lion immediately left me,
and, attacking Mebalwe, bit his thigh. Another man, whose life
I had saved before, after he had been tossed by a buffalo,
attempted to spear the lion while he was biting Mebalwe.
He left Mebalwe and caught this man by the shoulder, but at that moment
the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down dead.
The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been
his paroxysms of dying rage. In order to take out the charm from him,
the Bakatla on the following day made a huge bonfire over the carcass,
which was declared to be that of the largest lion they had ever seen.
Besides crunching the bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds
on the upper part of my arm.
A wound from this animal's tooth resembles a gun-shot wound;
it is generally followed by a great deal of sloughing and discharge,
and pains are felt in the part periodically ever afterward.
I had on a tartan jacket on the occasion, and I believe
that it wiped off all the virus from the teeth that pierced the flesh,
for my two companions in this affray have both suffered
from the peculiar pains, while I have escaped with only the inconvenience
of a false joint in my limb. The man whose shoulder was wounded showed me
his wound actually burst forth afresh on the same month of the following year.
This curious point deserves the attention of inquirers.
The different Bechuana tribes are named after certain animals,
showing probably that in former times they were addicted to animal-worship
like the ancient Egyptians. The term Bakatla means "they of the monkey";
Bakuena, "they of the alligator"; Batlapi, "they of the fish": each tribe
having a superstitious dread of the animal after which it is called.
They also use the word "bina", to dance, in reference to
the custom of thus naming themselves, so that, when you wish to ascertain
what tribe they belong to, you say, "What do you dance?"
It would seem as if that had been a part of the worship of old.
A tribe never eats the animal which is its namesake,
using the term "ila", hate or dread, in reference to killing it.
We find traces of many ancient tribes in the country in individual members
of those now extinct, as the Batau, "they of the lion";
the Banoga, "they of the serpent"; though no such tribes now exist.
The use of the personal pronoun they, Ba-Ma, Wa, Va or Ova, Am-Ki, &c.,
prevails very extensively in the names of tribes in Africa.
A single individual is indicated by the terms Mo or Le.
Thus Mokwain is a single person of the Bakwain tribe,
and Lekoa is a single white man or Englishman -- Makoa being Englishmen.
I attached myself to the tribe called Bakuena or Bakwains, the chief of which,
named Sechele, was then living with his people at a place called Shokuane.
I was from the first struck by his intelligence, and by the marked manner
in which we both felt drawn to each other. As this remarkable man
has not only embraced Christianity, but expounds its doctrines to his people,
I will here give a brief sketch of his career.
His great-grandfather Mochoasele was a great traveler,
and the first that ever told the Bakwains of the existence of white men.
In his father's lifetime two white travelers, whom I suppose to have been
Dr. Cowan and Captain Donovan, passed through the country (in 1808),
and, descending the River Limpopo, were, with their party,
all cut off by fever. The rain-makers there, fearing lest their wagons
might drive away the rain, ordered them to be thrown into the river.
This is the true account of the end of that expedition,
as related to me by the son of the chief at whose village they perished.
He remembered, when a boy, eating part of one of the horses,
and said it tasted like zebra's flesh. Thus they were not killed
by the Bangwaketse, as reported, for they passed the Bakwains all well.
The Bakwains were then rich in cattle; and as one of the many evidences
of the desiccation of the country, streams are pointed out
where thousands and thousands of cattle formerly drank,
but in which water now never flows, and where a single herd
could not find fluid for its support.
When Sechele was still a boy, his father, also called Mochoasele,
was murdered by his own people for taking to himself
the wives of his rich under-chiefs. The children being spared,
their friends invited Sebituane, the chief of the Makololo,
who was then in those parts, to reinstate them in the chieftainship.
Sebituane surrounded the town of the Bakwains by night;
and just as it began to dawn, his herald proclaimed in a loud voice
that he had come to revenge the death of Mochoasele. This was followed
by Sebituane's people beating loudly on their shields all round the town.
The panic was tremendous, and the rush like that from a theatre on fire,
while the Makololo used their javelins on the terrified Bakwains
with a dexterity which they alone can employ. Sebituane had given orders
to his men to spare the sons of the chief; and one of them, meeting Sechele,
put him in ward by giving him such a blow on the head with a club
as to render him insensible. The usurper was put to death;
and Sechele, reinstated in his chieftainship, felt much attached to Sebituane.
The circumstances here noticed ultimately led me, as will be seen by-and-by,
into the new, well-watered country to which this same Sebituane
had preceded me by many years.
Sechele married the daughters of three of his under-chiefs, who had,
on account of their blood relationship, stood by him in his adversity.
This is one of the modes adopted for cementing the allegiance of a tribe.
The government is patriarchal, each man being, by virtue of paternity,
chief of his own children. They build their huts around his,
and the greater the number of children, the more his importance increases.
Hence children are esteemed one of the greatest blessings,
and are always treated kindly. Near the centre of each circle of huts
there is a spot called a "kotla", with a fireplace; here they work, eat,
or sit and gossip over the news of the day. A poor man attaches himself
to the kotla of a rich one, and is considered a child of the latter.
An under-chief has a number of these circles around his;
and the collection of kotlas around the great one in the middle of the whole,
that of the principal chief, constitutes the town. The circle of huts
immediately around the kotla of the chief is composed of
the huts of his wives and those of his blood relations.
He attaches the under-chiefs to himself and his government by marrying,
as Sechele did, their daughters, or inducing his brothers to do so.
They are fond of the relationship to great families.
If you meet a party of strangers, and the head man's relationship
to some uncle of a certain chief is not at once proclaimed by his attendants,
you may hear him whispering, "Tell him who I am." This usually involves
a counting on the fingers of a part of his genealogical tree,
and ends in the important announcement that the head of the party
is half-cousin to some well-known ruler.
Sechele was thus seated in his chieftainship when I made his acquaintance.
On the first occasion in which I ever attempted to hold
a public religious service, he remarked that it was the custom of his nation,
when any new subject was brought before them, to put questions on it;
and he begged me to allow him to do the same in this case.
On expressing my entire willingness to answer his questions, he inquired
if my forefathers knew of a future judgment. I replied in the affirmative,
and began to describe the scene of the "great white throne,
and Him who shall sit on it, from whose face the heaven and earth
shall flee away," &c. He said, "You startle me: these words
make all my bones to shake; I have no more strength in me;
but my forefathers were living at the same time yours were, and how is it
that they did not send them word about these terrible things sooner?
They all passed away into darkness without knowing whither they were going."
I got out of the difficulty by explaining the geographical barriers
in the North, and the gradual spread of knowledge from the South,
to which we first had access by means of ships; and I expressed
my belief that, as Christ had said, the whole world would yet be enlightened
by the Gospel. Pointing to the great Kalahari desert,
he said, "You never can cross that country to the tribes beyond;
it is utterly impossible even for us black men, except in certain seasons,
when more than the usual supply of rain falls, and an extraordinary
growth of watermelons follows. Even we who know the country
would certainly perish without them." Reasserting my belief
in the words of Christ, we parted; and it will be seen farther on
that Sechele himself assisted me in crossing that desert which had previously
proved an insurmountable barrier to so many adventurers.
As soon as he had an opportunity of learning, he set himself to read
with such close application that, from being comparatively thin,
the effect of having been fond of the chase, he became quite corpulent
from want of exercise. Mr. Oswell gave him his first lesson in figures,
and he acquired the alphabet on the first day of my residence at Chonuane.
He was by no means an ordinary specimen of the people,
for I never went into the town but I was pressed to hear him read
some chapters of the Bible. Isaiah was a great favorite with him;
and he was wont to use the same phrase nearly which the professor of Greek
at Glasgow, Sir D. K. Sandford, once used respecting the Apostle Paul,
when reading his speeches in the Acts: "He was a fine fellow, that Paul!"
"He was a fine man, that Isaiah; he knew how to speak." Sechele invariably
offered me something to eat on every occasion of my visiting him.
Seeing me anxious that his people should believe the words of Christ,
he once said, "Do you imagine these people will ever believe
by your merely talking to them? I can make them do nothing
except by thrashing them; and if you like, I shall call my head men,
and with our litupa (whips of rhinoceros hide) we will soon make them all
believe together." The idea of using entreaty and persuasion to subjects
to become Christians -- whose opinion on no other matter
would he condescend to ask -- was especially surprising to him.
He considered that they ought only to be too happy to embrace Christianity
at his command. During the space of two years and a half he continued
to profess to his people his full conviction of the truth of Christianity;
and in all discussions on the subject he took that side,
acting at the same time in an upright manner in all the relations of life.
He felt the difficulties of his situation long before I did,
and often said, "Oh, I wish you had come to this country
before I became entangled in the meshes of our customs!" In fact,
he could not get rid of his superfluous wives, without appearing to be
ungrateful to their parents, who had done so much for him in his adversity.
In the hope that others would be induced to join him in his attachment
to Christianity, he asked me to begin family worship with him in his house.
I did so; and by-and-by was surprised to hear how well he conducted the prayer
in his own simple and beautiful style, for he was quite a master
of his own language. At this time we were suffering from
the effects of a drought, which will be described further on,
and none except his family, whom he ordered to attend, came near his meeting.
"In former times," said he, "when a chief was fond of hunting, all his people
got dogs, and became fond of hunting too. If he was fond of dancing or music,
all showed a liking to these amusements too. If the chief loved beer,
they all rejoiced in strong drink. But in this case it is different.
I love the Word of God, and not one of my brethren will join me." One reason
why we had no volunteer hypocrites was the hunger from drought, which was
associated in their minds with the presence of Christian instruction;
and hypocrisy is not prone to profess a creed which seems to insure
an empty stomach.
Sechele continued to make a consistent profession for about three years;
and perceiving at last some of the difficulties of his case,
and also feeling compassion for the poor women, who were by far
the best of our scholars, I had no desire that he should be in any hurry
to make a full profession by baptism, and putting away all his wives but one.
His principal wife, too, was about the most unlikely subject in the tribe
ever to become any thing else than an out-and-out greasy disciple
of the old school. She has since become greatly altered, I hear,
for the better; but again and again have I seen Sechele send her out of church
to put her gown on, and away she would go with her lips shot out,
the very picture of unutterable disgust at his new-fangled notions.
When he at last applied for baptism, I simply asked him how he,
having the Bible in his hand, and able to read it, thought he ought to act.
He went home, gave each of his superfluous wives new clothing, and all
his own goods, which they had been accustomed to keep in their huts for him,
and sent them to their parents with an intimation that he had no fault
to find with them, but that in parting with them he wished to follow
the will of God. On the day on which he and his children were baptized,
great numbers came to see the ceremony. Some thought,
from a stupid calumny circulated by enemies to Christianity in the south,
that the converts would be made to drink an infusion of "dead men's brains",
and were astonished to find that water only was used at baptism.
Seeing several of the old men actually in tears during the service,
I asked them afterward the cause of their weeping; they were crying
to see their father, as the Scotch remark over a case of suicide,
"SO FAR LEFT TO HIMSELF". They seemed to think that I had
thrown the glamour over him, and that he had become mine.
Here commenced an opposition which we had not previously experienced.
All the friends of the divorced wives became the opponents of our religion.
The attendance at school and church diminished to very few besides
the chief's own family. They all treated us still with respectful kindness,
but to Sechele himself they said things which, as he often remarked,
had they ventured on in former times, would have cost them their lives.
It was trying, after all we had done, to see our labors so little appreciated;
but we had sown the good seed, and have no doubt but it will yet spring up,
though we may not live to see the fruits.
Leaving this sketch of the chief, I proceed to give an equally rapid one
of our dealing with his people, the Bakena, or Bakwains.
A small piece of land, sufficient for a garden, was purchased
when we first went to live with them, though that was scarcely necessary
in a country where the idea of buying land was quite new.
It was expected that a request for a suitable spot would have been made,
and that we should have proceeded to occupy it as any other
member of the tribe would. But we explained to them that we wished to avoid
any cause of future dispute when land had become more valuable;
or when a foolish chief began to reign, and we had erected
large or expensive buildings, he might wish to claim the whole.
These reasons were considered satisfactory. About 5 Pounds worth of goods
were given for a piece of land, and an arrangement was come to
that a similar piece should be allotted to any other missionary,
at any other place to which the tribe might remove.
The particulars of the sale sounded strangely in the ears of the tribe,
but were nevertheless readily agreed to.
In our relations with this people we were simply strangers
exercising no authority or control whatever. Our influence depended
entirely on persuasion; and having taught them by kind conversation
as well as by public instruction, I expected them to do what
their own sense of right and wrong dictated. We never wished them to do right
merely because it would be pleasing to us, nor thought ourselves to blame
when they did wrong, although we were quite aware of the absurd idea
to that effect. We saw that our teaching did good to the general mind
of the people by bringing new and better motives into play. Five instances
are positively known to me in which, by our influence on public opinion,
war was prevented; and where, in individual cases, we failed,
the people did no worse than they did before we came into the country.
In general they were slow, like all the African people
hereafter to be described, in coming to a decision on religious subjects;
but in questions affecting their worldly affairs they were keenly alive
to their own interests. They might be called stupid in matters
which had not come within the sphere of their observation,
but in other things they showed more intelligence than is to be met with
in our own uneducated peasantry. They are remarkably accurate
in their knowledge of cattle, sheep, and goats, knowing exactly
the kind of pasturage suited to each; and they select with great judgment
the varieties of soil best suited to different kinds of grain.
They are also familiar with the habits of wild animals, and in general
are well up in the maxims which embody their ideas of political wisdom.
The place where we first settled with the Bakwains is called Chonuane,
and it happened to be visited, during the first year of our residence there,
by one of those droughts which occur from time to time
in even the most favored districts of Africa.
The belief in the gift or power of RAIN-MAKING is one of the most
deeply-rooted articles of faith in this country. The chief Sechele
was himself a noted rain-doctor, and believed in it implicitly. He has often
assured me that he found it more difficult to give up his faith in that
than in any thing else which Christianity required him to abjure.
I pointed out to him that the only feasible way of watering the gardens
was to select some good, never-failing river, make a canal,
and irrigate the adjacent lands. This suggestion was immediately adopted,
and soon the whole tribe was on the move to the Kolobeng,
a stream about forty miles distant. The experiment succeeded admirably
during the first year. The Bakwains made the canal and dam
in exchange for my labor in assisting to build a square house for their chief.
They also built their own school under my superintendence.
Our house at the River Kolobeng, which gave a name to the settlement,
was the third which I had reared with my own hands. A native smith taught me
to weld iron; and having improved by scraps of information in that line
from Mr. Moffat, and also in carpentering and gardening,
I was becoming handy at almost any trade, besides doctoring and preaching;
and as my wife could make candles, soap, and clothes,
we came nearly up to what may be considered as indispensable
in the accomplishments of a missionary family in Central Africa,
namely, the husband to be a jack-of-all-trades without doors,
and the wife a maid-of-all-work within. But in our second year
again no rain fell. In the third the same extraordinary drought followed.
Indeed, not ten inches of water fell during these two years,
and the Kolobeng ran dry; so many fish were killed that the hyaenas
from the whole country round collected to the feast, and were unable to finish
the putrid masses. A large old alligator, which had never been known
to commit any depredations, was found left high and dry in the mud
among the victims. The fourth year was equally unpropitious,
the fall of rain being insufficient to bring the grain to maturity.
Nothing could be more trying. We dug down in the bed of the river
deeper and deeper as the water receded, striving to get a little
to keep the fruit-trees alive for better times, but in vain.
Needles lying out of doors for months did not rust;
and a mixture of sulphuric acid and water, used in a galvanic battery,
parted with all its water to the air, instead of imbibing more from it,
as it would have done in England. The leaves of indigenous trees
were all drooping, soft, and shriveled, though not dead;
and those of the mimosae were closed at midday, the same as they are
at night. In the midst of this dreary drought, it was wonderful to see
those tiny creatures, the ants, running about with their accustomed vivacity.
I put the bulb of a thermometer three inches under the soil,
in the sun, at midday, and found the mercury to stand at 132 Deg. to 134 Deg.;
and if certain kinds of beetles were placed on the surface,
they ran about a few seconds and expired. But this broiling heat
only augmented the activity of the long-legged black ants:
they never tire; their organs of motion seem endowed with the same power
as is ascribed by physiologists to the muscles of the human heart,
by which that part of the frame never becomes fatigued,
and which may be imparted to all our bodily organs in that higher sphere
to which we fondly hope to rise. Where do these ants get their moisture?
Our house was built on a hard ferruginous conglomerate,
in order to be out of the way of the white ant, but they came in
despite the precaution; and not only were they, in this sultry weather,
able individually to moisten soil to the consistency of mortar
for the formation of galleries, which, in their way of working,
is done by night (so that they are screened from the observation of birds
by day in passing and repassing toward any vegetable matter
they may wish to devour), but, when their inner chambers were laid open,
these were also surprisingly humid. Yet there was no dew,
and, the house being placed on a rock, they could have no subterranean passage
to the bed of the river, which ran about three hundred yards below the hill.
Can it be that they have the power of combining the oxygen and hydrogen
of their vegetable food by vital force so as to form water?*
--
* When we come to Angola, I shall describe an insect there
which distills several pints of water every night.
--
Rain, however, would not fall. The Bakwains believed that I had bound Sechele
with some magic spell, and I received deputations, in the evenings,
of the old counselors, entreating me to allow him to make only a few showers:
"The corn will die if you refuse, and we shall become scattered.
Only let him make rain this once, and we shall all, men, women, and children,
come to the school, and sing and pray as long as you please."
It was in vain to protest that I wished Sechele to act
just according to his own ideas of what was right, as he found the law
laid down in the Bible, and it was distressing to appear hard-hearted to them.
The clouds often collected promisingly over us, and rolling thunder
seemed to portend refreshing showers, but next morning the sun would rise
in a clear, cloudless sky; indeed, even these lowering appearances
were less frequent by far than days of sunshine are in London.
The natives, finding it irksome to sit and wait helplessly
until God gives them rain from heaven, entertain the more comfortable idea
that they can help themselves by a variety of preparations, such as charcoal
made of burned bats, inspissated renal deposit of the mountain cony --
`Hyrax capensis' -- (which, by the way, is used, in the form of pills,
as a good antispasmodic, under the name of "stone-sweat"*),
the internal parts of different animals -- as jackals' livers,
baboons' and lions' hearts, and hairy calculi from the bowels of old cows --
serpents' skins and vertebrae, and every kind of tuber, bulb, root, and plant
to be found in the country. Although you disbelieve their efficacy
in charming the clouds to pour out their refreshing treasures,
yet, conscious that civility is useful every where, you kindly state
that you think they are mistaken as to their power. The rain-doctor selects
a particular bulbous root, pounds it, and administers a cold infusion
to a sheep, which in five minutes afterward expires in convulsions.
Part of the same bulb is converted into smoke, and ascends toward the sky;
rain follows in a day or two. The inference is obvious. Were we as much
harassed by droughts, the logic would be irresistible in England in 1857.
--
* The name arises from its being always voided on one spot,
in the manner practiced by others of the rhinocerontine family;
and, by the action of the sun, it becomes a black, pitchy substance.
--
As the Bakwains believed that there must be some connection
between the presence of "God's Word" in their town and these
successive and distressing droughts, they looked with no good will
at the church bell, but still they invariably treated us
with kindness and respect. I am not aware of ever having had an enemy
in the tribe. The only avowed cause of dislike was expressed
by a very influential and sensible man, the uncle of Sechele.
"We like you as well as if you had been born among us;
you are the only white man we can become familiar with (thoaela);
but we wish you to give up that everlasting preaching and praying;
we can not become familiar with that at all. You see we never get rain,
while those tribes who never pray as we do obtain abundance."
This was a fact; and we often saw it raining on the hills ten miles off,
while it would not look at us "even with one eye". If the Prince
of the power of the air had no hand in scorching us up,
I fear I often gave him the credit of doing so.
As for the rain-makers, they carried the sympathies of the people
along with them, and not without reason. With the following arguments
they were all acquainted, and in order to understand their force,
we must place ourselves in their position, and believe, as they do,
that all medicines act by a mysterious charm. The term for cure
may be translated "charm" (`alaha').
MEDICAL DOCTOR. Hail, friend! How very many medicines you have about you
this morning! Why, you have every medicine in the country here.
RAIN DOCTOR. Very true, my friend; and I ought; for the whole country
needs the rain which I am making.
M. D. So you really believe that you can command the clouds?
I think that can be done by God alone.
R. D. We both believe the very same thing. It is God that makes the rain,
but I pray to him by means of these medicines, and, the rain coming,
of course it is then mine. It was I who made it for the Bakwains
for many years, when they were at Shokuane; through my wisdom, too,
their women became fat and shining. Ask them; they will tell you
the same as I do.
M. D. But we are distinctly told in the parting words of our Savior
that we can pray to God acceptably in his name alone,
and not by means of medicines.
R. D. Truly! but God told us differently. He made black men first,
and did not love us as he did the white men. He made you beautiful,
and gave you clothing, and guns, and gunpowder, and horses, and wagons,
and many other things about which we know nothing. But toward us
he had no heart. He gave us nothing except the assegai, and cattle,
and rain-making; and he did not give us hearts like yours.
We never love each other. Other tribes place medicines about our country
to prevent the rain, so that we may be dispersed by hunger, and go to them,
and augment their power. We must dissolve their charms by our medicines.
God has given us one little thing, which you know nothing of.
He has given us the knowledge of certain medicines by which
we can make rain. WE do not despise those things which you possess,
though we are ignorant of them. We don't understand your book,
yet we don't despise it. YOU ought not to despise our little knowledge,
though you are ignorant of it.
M. D. I don't despise what I am ignorant of; I only think you are mistaken
in saying that you have medicines which can influence the rain at all.
R. D. That's just the way people speak when they talk on a subject
of which they have no knowledge. When we first opened our eyes,
we found our forefathers making rain, and we follow in their footsteps.
You, who send to Kuruman for corn, and irrigate your garden,
may do without rain; WE can not manage in that way. If we had no rain,
the cattle would have no pasture, the cows give no milk,
our children become lean and die, our wives run away to other tribes
who do make rain and have corn, and the whole tribe become dispersed and lost;
our fire would go out.
M. D. I quite agree with you as to the value of the rain; but you can not
charm the clouds by medicines. You wait till you see the clouds come,
then you use your medicines, and take the credit which belongs to God only.
R. D. I use my medicines, and you employ yours; we are both doctors,
and doctors are not deceivers. You give a patient medicine. Sometimes God
is pleased to heal him by means of your medicine; sometimes not -- he dies.
When he is cured, you take the credit of what God does. I do the same.
Sometimes God grants us rain, sometimes not. When he does,
we take the credit of the charm. When a patient dies,
you don't give up trust in your medicine, neither do I when rain fails.
If you wish me to leave off my medicines, why continue your own?
M. D. I give medicine to living creatures within my reach, and can see
the effects, though no cure follows; you pretend to charm the clouds,
which are so far above us that your medicines never reach them.
The clouds usually lie in one direction, and your smoke goes in another.
God alone can command the clouds. Only try and wait patiently;
God will give us rain without your medicines.
R. D. Mahala-ma-kapa-a-a!! Well, I always thought white men were wise
till this morning. Who ever thought of making trial of starvation?
Is death pleasant, then?
M. D. Could you make it rain on one spot and not on another?
R. D. I wouldn't think of trying. I like to see the whole country green,
and all the people glad; the women clapping their hands,
and giving me their ornaments for thankfulness, and lullilooing for joy.
M. D. I think you deceive both them and yourself.
R. D. Well, then, there is a pair of us (meaning both are rogues).
The above is only a specimen of their way of reasoning, in which,
when the language is well understood, they are perceived to be
remarkably acute. These arguments are generally known,
and I never succeeded in convincing a single individual of their fallacy,
though I tried to do so in every way I could think of. Their faith
in medicines as charms is unbounded. The general effect of argument
is to produce the impression that you are not anxious for rain at all;
and it is very undesirable to allow the idea to spread
that you do not take a generous interest in their welfare.
An angry opponent of rain-making in a tribe would be looked upon
as were some Greek merchants in England during the Russian war.
The conduct of the people during this long-continued drought
was remarkably good. The women parted with most of their ornaments
to purchase corn from more fortunate tribes. The children scoured the country
in search of the numerous bulbs and roots which can sustain life,
and the men engaged in hunting. Very great numbers of the large game,
buffaloes, zebras, giraffes, tsessebes, kamas or hartebeests,
kokongs or gnus, pallahs, rhinoceroses, etc., congregated at some fountains
near Kolobeng, and the trap called "hopo" was constructed,
in the lands adjacent, for their destruction. The hopo consists of two hedges
in the form of the letter V, which are very high and thick near the angle.
Instead of the hedges being joined there, they are made to form a lane
of about fifty yards in length, at the extremity of which a pit is formed,
six or eight feet deep, and about twelve or fifteen in breadth and length.
Trunks of trees are laid across the margins of the pit, and more especially
over that nearest the lane where the animals are expected to leap in,
and over that farthest from the lane where it is supposed
they will attempt to escape after they are in. The trees form
an overlapping border, and render escape almost impossible.
The whole is carefully decked with short green rushes, making the pit
like a concealed pitfall. As the hedges are frequently about a mile long,
and about as much apart at their extremities, a tribe making a circle
three or four miles round the country adjacent to the opening,
and gradually closing up, are almost sure to inclose a large body of game.
Driving it up with shouts to the narrow part of the hopo,
men secreted there throw their javelins into the affrighted herds,
and on the animals rush to the opening presented at the converging hedges,
and into the pit, till that is full of a living mass. Some escape by running
over the others, as a Smithfield market-dog does over the sheep's backs.
It is a frightful scene. The men, wild with excitement,
spear the lovely animals with mad delight; others of the poor creatures,
borne down by the weight of their dead and dying companions,
every now and then make the whole mass heave in their smothering agonies.
The Bakwains often killed between sixty and seventy head of large game
at the different hopos in a single week; and as every one, both rich and poor,
partook of the prey, the meat counteracted the bad effects
of an exclusively vegetable diet. When the poor, who had no salt,
were forced to live entirely on roots, they were often troubled
with indigestion. Such cases we had frequent opportunities of seeing
at other times, for, the district being destitute of salt,
the rich alone could afford to buy it. The native doctors,
aware of the cause of the malady, usually prescribed some of that ingredient
with their medicines. The doctors themselves had none, so the poor
resorted to us for aid. We took the hint, and henceforth cured the disease
by giving a teaspoonful of salt, minus the other remedies.
Either milk or meat had the same effect, though not so rapidly as salt.
Long afterward, when I was myself deprived of salt for four months,
at two distinct periods, I felt no desire for that condiment,
but I was plagued by very great longing for the above articles of food.
This continued as long as I was confined to an exclusively vegetable diet,
and when I procured a meal of flesh, though boiled in
perfectly fresh rain-water, it tasted as pleasantly saltish
as if slightly impregnated with the condiment. Milk or meat,
obtained in however small quantities, removed entirely
the excessive longing and dreaming about roasted ribs of fat oxen,
and bowls of cool thick milk gurgling forth from the big-bellied calabashes;
and I could then understand the thankfulness to Mrs. L.
often expressed by poor Bakwain women, in the interesting condition,
for a very little of either.
In addition to other adverse influences, the general uncertainty,
though not absolute want of food, and the necessity of frequent absence
for the purpose of either hunting game or collecting roots and fruits,
proved a serious barrier to the progress of the people in knowledge.
Our own education in England is carried on at the comfortable
breakfast and dinner table, and by the cosy fire, as well as in
the church and school. Few English people with stomachs painfully empty
would be decorous at church any more than they are when these organs
are overcharged. Ragged schools would have been a failure
had not the teachers wisely provided food for the body as well as
food for the mind; and not only must we show a friendly interest
in the bodily comfort of the objects of our sympathy as a Christian duty,
but we can no more hope for healthy feelings among the poor,
either at home or abroad, without feeding them into them,
than we can hope to see an ordinary working-bee reared into a queen-mother
by the ordinary food of the hive.
Sending the Gospel to the heathen must, if this view be correct,
include much more than is implied in the usual picture of a missionary,
namely, a man going about with a Bible under his arm.
The promotion of commerce ought to be specially attended to,
as this, more speedily than any thing else, demolishes that sense of isolation
which heathenism engenders, and makes the tribes feel themselves
mutually dependent on, and mutually beneficial to each other.
With a view to this, the missionaries at Kuruman got permission
from the government for a trader to reside at the station,
and a considerable trade has been the result; the trader himself
has become rich enough to retire with a competence. Those laws
which still prevent free commercial intercourse among the civilized nations
seem to be nothing else but the remains of our own heathenism.
My observations on this subject make me extremely desirous to promote
the preparation of the raw materials of European manufactures in Africa,
for by that means we may not only put a stop to the slave-trade,
but introduce the negro family into the body corporate of nations,
no one member of which can suffer without the others suffering with it.
Success in this, in both Eastern and Western Africa, would lead,
in the course of time, to a much larger diffusion of the blessings
of civilization than efforts exclusively spiritual and educational
confined to any one small tribe. These, however, it would of course
be extremely desirable to carry on at the same time at large
central and healthy stations, for neither civilization nor Christianity
can be promoted alone. In fact, they are inseparable.
Chapter 2.
The Boers -- Their Treatment of the Natives -- Seizure of native Children
for Slaves -- English Traders -- Alarm of the Boers -- Native Espionage --
The Tale of the Cannon -- The Boers threaten Sechele --
In violation of Treaty, they stop English Traders and expel Missionaries --
They attack the Bakwains -- Their Mode of Fighting --
The Natives killed and the School-children carried into Slavery --
Destruction of English Property -- African Housebuilding and Housekeeping --
Mode of Spending the Day -- Scarcity of Food -- Locusts -- Edible Frogs --
Scavenger Beetle -- Continued Hostility of the Boers -- The Journey north --
Preparations -- Fellow-travelers -- The Kalahari Desert --
Vegetation -- Watermelons -- The Inhabitants -- The Bushmen --
Their nomad Mode of Life -- Appearance -- The Bakalahari --
Their Love for Agriculture and for domestic Animals -- Timid Character --
Mode of obtaining Water -- Female Water-suckers -- The Desert --
Water hidden.
Another adverse influence with which the mission had to contend
was the vicinity of the Boers of the Cashan Mountains,
otherwise named "Magaliesberg". These are not to be counfounded
with the Cape colonists, who sometimes pass by the name.
The word Boer simply means "farmer", and is not synonymous with our word boor.
Indeed, to the Boers generally the latter term would be quite inappropriate,
for they are a sober, industrious, and most hospitable body of peasantry.
Those, however, who have fled from English law on various pretexts,
and have been joined by English deserters and every other variety
of bad character in their distant localities, are unfortunately
of a very different stamp. The great objection many of the Boers had,
and still have, to English law, is that it makes no distinction
between black men and white. They felt aggrieved by their supposed losses
in the emancipation of their Hottentot slaves, and determined
to erect themselves into a republic, in which they might pursue,
without molestation, the "proper treatment of the blacks".
It is almost needless to add that the "proper treatment"
has always contained in it the essential element of slavery,
namely, compulsory unpaid labor.
One section of this body, under the late Mr. Hendrick Potgeiter,
penetrated the interior as far as the Cashan Mountains,
whence a Zulu or Caffre chief, named Mosilikatze, had been expelled
by the well-known Caffre Dingaan; and a glad welcome was given them
by the Bechuana tribes, who had just escaped the hard sway of that
cruel chieftain. They came with the prestige of white men and deliverers;
but the Bechuanas soon found, as they expressed it, "that Mosilikatze
was cruel to his enemies, and kind to those he conquered;
but that the Boers destroyed their enemies, and made slaves of their friends."
The tribes who still retain the semblance of independence
are forced to perform all the labor of the fields, such as manuring the land,
weeding, reaping, building, making dams and canals, and at the same time
to support themselves. I have myself been an eye-witness of Boers
coming to a village, and, according to their usual custom,
demanding twenty or thirty women to weed their gardens,
and have seen these women proceed to the scene of unrequited toil,
carrying their own food on their heads, their children on their backs,
and instruments of labor on their shoulders. Nor have the Boers
any wish to conceal the meanness of thus employing unpaid labor;
on the contrary, every one of them, from Mr. Potgeiter and Mr. Gert Krieger,
the commandants, downward, lauded his own humanity and justice
in making such an equitable regulation. "We make the people work for us,
in consideration of allowing them to live in our country."
I can appeal to the Commandant Krieger if the foregoing is not
a fair and impartial statement of the views of himself and his people.
I am sensible of no mental bias toward or against these Boers;
and during the several journeys I made to the poor enslaved tribes,
I never avoided the whites, but tried to cure and did administer remedies
to their sick, without money and without price. It is due to them to state
that I was invariably treated with respect; but it is most unfortunate
that they should have been left by their own Church for so many years
to deteriorate and become as degraded as the blacks,
whom the stupid prejudice against color leads them to detest.
This new species of slavery which they have adopted serves to supply
the lack of field-labor only. The demand for domestic servants
must be met by forays on tribes which have good supplies of cattle.
The Portuguese can quote instances in which blacks become so degraded
by the love of strong drink as actually to sell themselves;
but never in any one case, within the memory of man,
has a Bechuana chief sold any of his people, or a Bechuana man his child.
Hence the necessity for a foray to seize children. And those individual Boers
who would not engage in it for the sake of slaves can seldom resist
the two-fold plea of a well-told story of an intended uprising
of the devoted tribe, and the prospect of handsome pay
in the division of the captured cattle besides.
It is difficult for a person in a civilized country to conceive
that any body of men possessing the common attributes of humanity
(and these Boers are by no means destitute of the better feelings
of our nature) should with one accord set out, after loading
their own wives and children with caresses, and proceed to shoot down
in cold blood men and women, of a different color, it is true,
but possessed of domestic feelings and affections equal to their own.
I saw and conversed with children in the houses of Boers who had,
by their own and their masters' account, been captured,
and in several instances I traced the parents of these unfortunates,
though the plan approved by the long-headed among the burghers
is to take children so young that they soon forget their parents
and their native language also. It was long before I could give credit
to the tales of bloodshed told by native witnesses, and had I received
no other testimony but theirs I should probably have continued skeptical
to this day as to the truth of the accounts; but when I found
the Boers themselves, some bewailing and denouncing, others glorying in
the bloody scenes in which they had been themselves the actors,
I was compelled to admit the validity of the testimony, and try to account
for the cruel anomaly. They are all traditionally religious,
tracing their descent from some of the best men (Huguenots and Dutch)
the world ever saw. Hence they claim to themselves the title of "Christians",
and all the colored race are "black property" or "creatures".
They being the chosen people of God, the heathen are given to them
for an inheritance, and they are the rod of divine vengeance on the heathen,
as were the Jews of old. Living in the midst of a native population
much larger than themselves, and at fountains removed many miles
from each other, they feel somewhat in the same insecure position
as do the Americans in the Southern States. The first question
put by them to strangers is respecting peace; and when they receive reports
from disaffected or envious natives against any tribe, the case assumes
all the appearance and proportions of a regular insurrection.
Severe measures then appear to the most mildly disposed among them
as imperatively called for, and, however bloody the massacre that follows,
no qualms of conscience ensue: it is a dire necessity for the sake of peace.
Indeed, the late Mr. Hendrick Potgeiter most devoutly believed himself to be
the great peacemaker of the country.
But how is it that the natives, being so vastly superior in numbers to
the Boers, do not rise and annihilate them? The people among whom they live
are Bechuanas, not Caffres, though no one would ever learn that distinction
from a Boer; and history does not contain one single instance
in which the Bechuanas, even those of them who possess fire-arms,
have attacked either the Boers or the English. If there is such an instance,
I am certain it is not generally known, either beyond or in the Cape Colony.
They have defended themselves when attacked, as in the case of Sechele,
but have never engaged in offensive war with Europeans.
We have a very different tale to tell of the Caffres,
and the difference has always been so evident to these border Boers that,
ever since those "magnificent savages"* obtained possession of fire-arms,
not one Boer has ever attempted to settle in Caffreland, or even face them
as an enemy in the field. The Boers have generally manifested
a marked antipathy to any thing but "long-shot" warfare,
and, sidling away in their emigrations toward the more effeminate Bechuanas,
have left their quarrels with the Caffres to be settled by the English,
and their wars to be paid for by English gold.
--
* The "United Service Journal" so styles them.
--
The Bakwains at Kolobeng had the spectacle of various tribes
enslaved before their eyes -- the Bakatla, the Batlokua, the Bahukeng,
the Bamosetla, and two other tribes of Bakwains were all groaning
under the oppression of unrequited labor. This would not have been felt
as so great an evil but that the young men of those tribes, anxious to
obtain cattle, the only means of rising to respectability and importance
among their own people, were in the habit of sallying forth,
like our Irish and Highland reapers, to procure work in the Cape Colony.
After laboring there three or four years, in building stone dikes and dams
for the Dutch farmers, they were well content if at the end of that time
they could return with as many cows. On presenting one to their chief,
they ranked as respectable men in the tribe ever afterward. These volunteers
were highly esteemed among the Dutch, under the name of Mantatees.
They were paid at the rate of one shilling a day and a large loaf of bread
between six of them. Numbers of them, who had formerly seen me
about twelve hundred miles inland from the Cape, recognized me
with the loud laughter of joy when I was passing them at their work
in the Roggefelt and Bokkefelt, within a few days of Cape Town.
I conversed with them and with elders of the Dutch Church, for whom
they were working, and found that the system was thoroughly satisfactory
to both parties. I do not believe that there is one Boer,
in the Cashan or Magaliesberg country, who would deny that a law was made,
in consequence of this labor passing to the colony, to deprive these laborers
of their hardly-earned cattle, for the very cogent reason that,
"if they want to work, let them work for us their masters,"
though boasting that in their case it would not be paid for.
I can never cease to be most unfeignedly thankful that I was not born
in a land of slaves. No one can understand the effect
of the unutterable meanness of the slave-system on the minds of those who,
but for the strange obliquity which prevents them from feeling
the degradation of not being gentlemen enough to pay for services rendered,
would be equal in virtue to ourselves. Fraud becomes as natural to them
as "paying one's way" is to the rest of mankind.
Wherever a missionary lives, traders are sure to come;
they are mutually dependent, and each aids in the work of the other;
but experience shows that the two employments can not very well be combined
in the same person. Such a combination would not be morally wrong,
for nothing would be more fair, and apostolical too, than that the man
who devotes his time to the spiritual welfare of a people
should derive temporal advantage from upright commerce,
which traders, who aim exclusively at their own enrichment,
modestly imagine ought to be left to them. But, though it is right
for missionaries to trade, the present system of missions
renders it inexpedient to spend time in so doing. No missionary
with whom I ever came in contact, traded; and while the traders,
whom we introduced and rendered secure in the country, waxed rich,
the missionaries have invariably remained poor, and have died so.
The Jesuits, in Africa at least, were wiser in their generation than we;
theirs were large, influential communities, proceeding on the system
of turning the abilities of every brother into that channel
in which he was most likely to excel; one, fond of natural history,
was allowed to follow his bent; another, fond of literature,
found leisure to pursue his studies; and he who was great in barter
was sent in search of ivory and gold-dust; so that while in the course
of performing the religious acts of his mission to distant tribes,
he found the means of aiding effectually the brethren
whom he had left in the central settlement.* We Protestants,
with the comfortable conviction of superiority, have sent out missionaries
with a bare subsistence only, and are unsparing in our laudations of some
for not being worldly-minded whom our niggardliness made to live
as did the prodigal son. I do not speak of myself, nor need I to do so,
but for that very reason I feel at liberty to interpose a word
in behalf of others. I have before my mind at this moment
facts and instances which warrant my putting the case in this way:
The command to "go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature"
must be obeyed by Christians either personally or by substitute.
Now it is quite possible to find men whose love for the heathen and devotion
to the work will make them ready to go forth on the terms "bare subsistence",
but what can be thought of the justice, to say nothing of the generosity,
of Christians and churches who not only work their substitutes
at the lowest terms, but regard what they give as charity!
The matter is the more grave in respect to the Protestant missionary,
who may have a wife and family. The fact is, there are many cases
in which it is right, virtuous, and praiseworthy for a man
to sacrifice every thing for a great object, but in which it would be
very wrong for others, interested in the object as much as he,
to suffer or accept the sacrifice, if they can prevent it.
--
* The Dutch clergy, too, are not wanting in worldly wisdom.
A fountain is bought, and the lands which it can irrigate
parceled out and let to villagers. As they increase in numbers,
the rents rise and the church becomes rich. With 200 Pounds per annum
in addition from government, the salary amounts to 400 or 500 Pounds a year.
The clergymen then preach abstinence from politics as a Christian duty.
It is quite clear that, with 400 Pounds a year, but little else
except pure spirituality is required.
--
English traders sold those articles which the Boers most dread,
namely, arms and ammunition; and when the number of guns
amounted to five, so much alarm was excited among our neighbors
that an expedition of several hundred Boers was seriously planned
to deprive the Bakwains of their guns. Knowing that the latter
would rather have fled to the Kalahari Desert than deliver up their weapons
and become slaves, I proceeded to the commandant, Mr. Gert Krieger,
and, representing the evils of any such expedition, prevailed upon him
to defer it; but that point being granted, the Boer wished to gain another,
which was that I should act as a spy over the Bakwains.
I explained the impossibility of my complying with his wish,
even though my principles as an Englishman had not stood in the way,
by referring to an instance in which Sechele had gone with his whole force
to punish an under-chief without my knowledge. This man,
whose name was Kake, rebelled, and was led on in his rebellion
by his father-in-law, who had been regicide in the case of Sechele's father.
Several of those who remained faithful to that chief were maltreated by Kake
while passing to the Desert in search of skins. We had just come to live
with the Bakwains when this happened, and Sechele consulted me.
I advised mild measures, but the messengers he sent to Kake
were taunted with the words, "He only pretends to wish to follow
the advice of the teacher: Sechele is a coward; let him come and fight
if he dare." The next time the offense was repeated,
Sechele told me he was going to hunt elephants; and as I knew
the system of espionage which prevails among all the tribes,
I never made inquiries that would convey the opinion
that I distrusted them. I gave credit to his statement.
He asked the loan of a black-metal pot to cook with, as theirs of pottery
are brittle. I gave it and a handful of salt, and desired him
to send back two tit-bits, the proboscis and fore-foot of the elephant.
He set off, and I heard nothing more until we saw the Bakwains carrying home
their wounded, and heard some of the women uttering the loud wail of sorrow
for the dead, and others pealing forth the clear scream of victory.
It was then clear that Sechele had attacked and driven away the rebel.
Mentioning this to the commandant in proof of the impossibility of granting
his request, I had soon an example how quickly a story can grow
among idle people. The five guns were, within one month,
multiplied into a tale of five hundred, and the cooking-pot,
now in a museum at Cape Town, was magnified into a cannon;
"I had myself confessed to the loan." Where the five hundred guns came from,
it was easy to divine; for, knowing that I used a sextant,
my connection with government was a thing of course; and, as I must know
all her majesty's counsels, I was questioned on the subject of
the indistinct rumors which had reached them of Lord Rosse's telescope.
"What right has your government to set up that large glass at the Cape
to look after us behind the Cashan Mountains?"
Many of the Boers visited us afterward at Kolobeng, some for medical advice,
and others to trade in those very articles which their own laws
and policy forbid. When I happened to stumble upon any of them in the town,
with his muskets and powder displayed, he would begin an apology,
on the ground that he was a poor man, etc., which I always cut short by
frankly saying that I had nothing to do with either the Boers or their laws.
Many attempts were made during these visits to elicit the truth about
the guns and cannon; and ignorant of the system of espionage which prevails,
eager inquiries were made by them among those who could jabber a little Dutch.
It is noticeable that the system of espionage is as well developed
among the savage tribes as in Austria or Russia. It is a proof of barbarism.
Every man in a tribe feels himself bound to tell the chief
every thing that comes to his knowledge, and, when questioned by a stranger,
either gives answers which exhibit the utmost stupidity, or such as he knows
will be agreeable to his chief. I believe that in this way
have arisen tales of their inability to count more than ten,
as was asserted of the Bechuanas about the very time when Sechele's father
counted out one thousand head of cattle as a beginning of the stock
of his young son.
In the present case, Sechele, knowing every question put to his people,
asked me how they ought to answer. My reply was, "Tell the truth."
Every one then declared that no cannon existed there; and our friends,
judging the answer by what they themselves would in the circumstances
have said, were confirmed in the opinion that the Bakwains actually
possessed artillery. This was in some degree beneficial to us,
inasmuch as fear prevented any foray in our direction for eight years.
During that time no winter passed without one or two tribes
in the East country being plundered of both cattle and children by the Boers.
The plan pursued is the following: one or two friendly tribes
are forced to accompany a party of mounted Boers, and these expeditions
can be got up only in the winter, when horses may be used
without danger of being lost by disease. When they reach the tribe
to be attacked, the friendly natives are ranged in front,
to form, as they say, "a shield"; the Boers then coolly fire over their heads
till the devoted people flee and leave cattle, wives, and children
to the captors. This was done in nine cases during my residence
in the interior, and on no occasion was a drop of Boer's blood shed.
News of these deeds spread quickly among the Bakwains, and letters
were repeatedly sent by the Boers to Sechele, ordering him
to come and surrender himself as their vassal, and stop English traders
from proceeding into the country with fire-arms for sale.
But the discovery of Lake Ngami, hereafter to be described,
made the traders come in five-fold greater numbers, and Sechele replied,
"I was made an independent chief and placed here by God, and not by you.
I was never conquered by Mosilikatze, as those tribes whom you rule over;
and the English are my friends. I get every thing I wish from them.
I can not hinder them from going where they like." Those who are old enough
to remember the threatened invasion of our own island may understand
the effect which the constant danger of a Boerish invasion had
on the minds of the Bakwains; but no others can conceive how worrying
were the messages and threats from the endless self-constituted authorities
of the Magaliesberg Boers; and when to all this harassing annoyance
was added the scarcity produced by the drought, we could not wonder at,
though we felt sorry for, their indisposition to receive instruction.
The myth of the black pot assumed serious proportions.
I attempted to benefit the tribes among the Boers of Magaliesberg
by placing native teachers at different points. "You must teach the blacks,"
said Mr. Hendrick Potgeiter, the commandant in chief,
"that they are not equal to us." Other Boers told me,
"I might as well teach the baboons on the rocks as the Africans,"
but declined the test which I proposed, namely, to examine whether
they or my native attendants could read best. Two of their clergymen
came to baptize the children of the Boers; so, supposing these good men
would assist me in overcoming the repugnance of their flock
to the education of the blacks, I called on them; but my visit ended
in a `ruse' practiced by the Boerish commandant, whereby I was led,
by professions of the greatest friendship, to retire to Kolobeng,
while a letter passed me by another way to the other missionaries
in the south, demanding my instant recall "for lending a cannon
to their enemies." The colonial government was also gravely informed
that the story was true, and I came to be looked upon
as a most suspicious character in consequence.
These notices of the Boers are not intended to produce a sneer
at their ignorance, but to excite the compassion of their friends.
They are perpetually talking about their laws; but practically
theirs is only the law of the strongest. The Bechuanas could never understand
the changes which took place in their commandants. "Why, one can never know
who is the chief among these Boers. Like the Bushmen, they have no king --
they must be the Bushmen of the English." The idea that any tribe of men
could be so senseless as not to have an hereditary chief
was so absurd to these people, that, in order not to appear equally stupid,
I was obliged to tell them that we English were so anxious
to preserve the royal blood, that we had made a young lady our chief.
This seemed to them a most convincing proof of our sound sense.
We shall see farther on the confidence my account of our queen inspired.
The Boers, encouraged by the accession of Mr. Pretorius,
determined at last to put a stop to English traders going past Kolobeng,
by dispersing the tribe of Bakwains, and expelling all the missionaries.
Sir George Cathcart proclaimed the independence of the Boers, the best thing
that could have been done had they been between us and the Caffres.
A treaty was entered into with these Boers; an article for
the free passage of Englishmen to the country beyond, and also another,
that no slavery should be allowed in the independent territory,
were duly inserted, as expressive of the views of her majesty's government
at home. "But what about the missionaries?" inquired the Boers.
"YOU MAY DO AS YOU PLEASE WITH THEM," is said to have been
the answer of the "Commissioner". This remark, if uttered at all,
was probably made in joke: designing men, however, circulated it, and caused
the general belief in its accuracy which now prevails all over the country,
and doubtless led to the destruction of three mission stations
immediately after. The Boers, four hundred in number,
were sent by the late Mr. Pretorius to attack the Bakwains in 1852.
Boasting that the English had given up all the blacks into their power,
and had agreed to aid them in their subjugation by preventing
all supplies of ammunition from coming into the Bechuana country,
they assaulted the Bakwains, and, besides killing a considerable
number of adults, carried off two hundred of our school children into slavery.
The natives under Sechele defended themselves till the approach of night
enabled them to flee to the mountains; and having in that defense killed
a number of the enemy, the very first ever slain in this country by Bechuanas,
I received the credit of having taught the tribe to kill Boers!
My house, which had stood perfectly secure for years
under the protection of the natives, was plundered in revenge.
English gentlemen, who had come in the footsteps of Mr. Cumming
to hunt in the country beyond, and had deposited large quantities of stores
in the same keeping, and upward of eighty head of cattle as relays
for the return journeys, were robbed of all, and, when they came back
to Kolobeng, found the skeletons of the guardians strewed all over the place.
The books of a good library -- my solace in our solitude --
were not taken away, but handfuls of the leaves were torn out
and scattered over the place. My stock of medicines was smashed;
and all our furniture and clothing carried off and sold at public auction
to pay the expenses of the foray.
I do not mention these things by way of making a pitiful wail over my losses,
nor in order to excite commiseration; for, though I do feel sorry
for the loss of lexicons, dictionaries, &c., which had been
the companions of my boyhood, yet, after all, the plundering only set me
entirely free for my expedition to the north, and I have never since
had a moment's concern for any thing I left behind. The Boers resolved
to shut up the interior, and I determined to open the country,
and we shall see who have been most successful in resolution, they or I.
A short sketch of African housekeeping may not prove uninteresting
to the reader. The entire absence of shops led us to make
every thing we needed from the raw materials. You want bricks
to build a house, and must forthwith proceed to the field,
cut down a tree, and saw it into planks to make the brick-moulds;
the materials for doors and windows, too, are standing in the forest;
and, if you want to be respected by the natives, a house of decent dimensions,
costing an immense amount of manual labor, must be built.
The people can not assist you much; for, though most willing
to labor for wages, the Bakwains have a curious inability
to make or put things square: like all Bechuanas, their dwellings
are made round. In the case of three large houses, erected by myself
at different times, every brick and stick had to be put square
by my own right hand.
Having got the meal ground, the wife proceeds to make it into bread;
an extempore oven is often constructed by scooping out a large hole
in an anthill, and using a slab of stone for a door. Another plan,
which might be adopted by the Australians to produce something better
than their "dampers", is to make a good fire on a level piece of ground,
and, when the ground is thoroughly heated, place the dough
in a small, short-handled frying-pan, or simply on the hot ashes;
invert any sort of metal pot over it, draw the ashes around,
and then make a small fire on the top. Dough, mixed with a little leaven
from a former baking, and allowed to stand an hour or two in the sun,
will by this process become excellent bread.
We made our own butter, a jar serving as a churn; and our own candles
by means of moulds; and soap was procured from the ashes of the plant salsola,
or from wood-ashes, which in Africa contain so little alkaline matter that
the boiling of successive leys has to be continued for a month or six weeks
before the fat is saponified. There is not much hardship in being
almost entirely dependent on ourselves; there is something of the feeling
which must have animated Alexander Selkirk on seeing conveniences
springing up before him from his own ingenuity; and married life
is all the sweeter when so many comforts emanate directly
from the thrifty striving housewife's hands.
To some it may appear quite a romantic mode of life;
it is one of active benevolence, such as the good may enjoy at home.
Take a single day as a sample of the whole. We rose early,
because, however hot the day may have been, the evening, night, and morning
at Kolobeng were deliciously refreshing; cool is not the word,
where you have neither an increase of cold nor heat to desire,
and where you can sit out till midnight with no fear of coughs or rheumatism.
After family worship and breakfast between six and seven,
we went to keep school for all who would attend -- men, women, and children
being all invited. School over at eleven o'clock, while the missionary's wife
was occupied in domestic matters, the missionary himself
had some manual labor as a smith, carpenter, or gardener,
according to whatever was needed for ourselves or for the people;
if for the latter, they worked for us in the garden, or at some
other employment; skilled labor was thus exchanged for the unskilled.
After dinner and an hour's rest, the wife attended her infant-school,
which the young, who were left by their parents entirely to their own caprice,
liked amazingly, and generally mustered a hundred strong;
or she varied that with a sewing-school, having classes of girls
to learn the art; this, too, was equally well relished. During the day
every operation must be superintended, and both husband and wife
must labor till the sun declines. After sunset the husband went into the town
to converse with any one willing to do so, sometimes on general subjects,
at other times on religion. On three nights of the week,
as soon as the milking of the cows was over and it had become dark,
we had a public religious service, and one of instruction on secular subjects,
aided by pictures and specimens. These services were diversified
by attending upon the sick and prescribing for them,
giving food, and otherwise assisting the poor and wretched.
We tried to gain their affections by attending to the wants of the body.
The smallest acts of friendship, an obliging word and civil look,
are, as St. Xavier thought, no despicable part of the missionary armor.
Nor ought the good opinion of the most abject to be uncared for,
when politeness may secure it. Their good word in the aggregate forms
a reputation which may be well employed in procuring favor for the Gospel.
Show kind attention to the reckless opponents of Christianity
on the bed of sickness and pain, and they never can become
your personal enemies. Here, if any where, love begets love.
When at Kolobeng, during the droughts we were entirely dependent on Kuruman
for supplies of corn. Once we were reduced to living on bran,
to convert which into fine meal we had to grind it three times over.
We were much in want of animal food, which seems to be
a greater necessary of life there than vegetarians would imagine.
Being alone, we could not divide the butcher-meat of a slaughtered animal
with a prospect of getting a return with regularity. Sechele had,
by right of chieftainship, the breast of every animal slaughtered
either at home or abroad, and he most obligingly sent us a liberal share
during the whole period of our sojourn. But these supplies
were necessarily so irregular that we were sometimes fain to accept
a dish of locusts. These are quite a blessing in the country,
so much so that the RAIN-DOCTORS sometimes promised to bring them
by their incantations. The locusts are strongly vegetable in taste,
the flavor varying with the plants on which they feed. There is
a physiological reason why locusts and honey should be eaten together.
Some are roasted and pounded into meal, which, eaten with a little salt,
is palatable. It will keep thus for months. Boiled, they are disagreeable;
but when they are roasted I should much prefer locusts to shrimps,
though I would avoid both if possible.
In traveling we sometimes suffered considerably from scarcity of meat,
though not from absolute want of food. This was felt more especially
by my children; and the natives, to show their sympathy,
often gave them a large kind of caterpillar, which they seemed to relish;
these insects could not be unwholesome, for the natives devoured them
in large quantities themselves.
Another article of which our children partook with eagerness
was a very large frog, called "Matlametlo".*
--
* The Pyxicephalus adspersus of Dr. Smith. Length of head and body,
5-1/2 inches; fore legs, 3 inches; hind legs, 6 inches.
Width of head posteriorly, 3 inches; of body, 4-1/2 inches.
--
These enormous frogs, which, when cooked, look like chickens,
are supposed by the natives to fall down from thunder-clouds,
because after a heavy thunder-shower the pools, which are filled
and retain water a few days, become instantly alive with this loud-croaking,
pugnacious game. This phenomenon takes place in the driest parts
of the desert, and in places where, to an ordinary observer,
there is not a sign of life. Having been once benighted
in a district of the Kalahari where there was no prospect of getting water
for our cattle for a day or two, I was surprised to hear
in the fine still evening the croaking of frogs. Walking out
until I was certain that the musicians were between me and our fire,
I found that they could be merry on nothing else but a prospect of rain.
From the Bushmen I afterward learned that the matlametlo makes a hole
at the root of certain bushes, and there ensconces himself
during the months of drought. As he seldom emerges, a large variety of spider
takes advantage of the hole, and makes its web across the orifice.
He is thus furnished with a window and screen gratis; and no one but a Bushman
would think of searching beneath a spider's web for a frog.
They completely eluded my search on the occasion referred to;
and as they rush forth into the hollows filled by the thunder-shower
when the rain is actually falling, and the Bechuanas are cowering under
their skin garments, the sudden chorus struck up simultaneously from all sides
seems to indicate a descent from the clouds.
The presence of these matlametlo in the desert in a time of drought
was rather a disappointment, for I had been accustomed to suppose
that the note was always emitted by them when they were chin-deep in water.
Their music was always regarded in other spots as the most pleasant sound
that met the ear after crossing portions of the thirsty desert;
and I could fully appreciate the sympathy for these animals shown by Aesop,
himself an African, in his fable of the "Boys and the Frogs".
It is remarkable that attempts have not been made to any extent
to domesticate some of the noble and useful creatures of Africa in England.
The eland, which is the most magnificent of all antelopes,
would grace the parks of our nobility more than deer. This animal,
from the excellence of its flesh, would be appropriate to our own country;
and as there is also a splendid esculent frog nearly as large as a chicken,
it would no doubt tend to perpetuate the present alliance
if we made a gift of that to France.
The scavenger beetle is one of the most useful of all insects,
as it effectually answers the object indicated by the name.
Where they abound, as at Kuruman, the villages are sweet and clean,
for no sooner are animal excretions dropped than, attracted by the scent,
the scavengers are heard coming booming up the wind. They roll away
the droppings of cattle at once, in round pieces often as large
as billiard-balls; and when they reach a place proper by its softness
for the deposit of their eggs and the safety of their young,
they dig the soil out from beneath the ball till they have quite let it down
and covered it: they then lay their eggs within the mass.
While the larvae are growing, they devour the inside of the ball
before coming above ground to begin the world for themselves.
The beetles with their gigantic balls look like Atlas
with the world on his back; only they go backward, and, with their heads down,
push with the hind legs, as if a boy should roll a snow-ball with his legs
while standing on his head. As we recommend the eland to John Bull,
and the gigantic frog to France, we can confidently recommend this beetle
to the dirty Italian towns and our own Sanitary Commissioners.
In trying to benefit the tribes living under the Boers
of the Cashan Mountains, I twice performed a journey of about
three hundred miles to the eastward of Kolobeng. Sechele had become
so obnoxious to the Boers that, though anxious to accompany me in my journey,
he dared not trust himself among them. This did not arise from
the crime of cattle-stealing; for that crime, so common among the Caffres,
was never charged against his tribe, nor, indeed, against any Bechuana tribe.
It is, in fact, unknown in the country, except during actual warfare.
His independence and love of the English were his only faults.
In my last journey there, of about two hundred miles,
on parting at the River Marikwe he gave me two servants,
"to be," as he said, "his arms to serve me," and expressed regret that
he could not come himself. "Suppose we went north," I said, "would you come?"
He then told me the story of Sebituane having saved his life,
and expatiated on the far-famed generosity of that really great man.
This was the first time I had thought of crossing the Desert to Lake Ngami.
The conduct of the Boers, who, as will be remembered,
had sent a letter designed to procure my removal out of the country,
and their well-known settled policy which I have already described,
became more fully developed on this than on any former occasion.
When I spoke to Mr. Hendrick Potgeiter of the danger of hindering
the Gospel of Christ among these poor savages, he became greatly excited,
and called one of his followers to answer me. He threatened to attack
any tribe that might receive a native teacher, yet he promised
to use his influence to prevent those under him from throwing obstacles
in our way. I could perceive plainly that nothing more could be done
in that direction, so I commenced collecting all the information I could
about the desert, with the intention of crossing it, if possible.
Sekomi, the chief of the Bamangwato, was acquainted with a route
which he kept carefully to himself, because the Lake country
abounded in ivory, and he drew large quantities thence periodically
at but small cost to himself.
Sechele, who valued highly every thing European, and was always
fully alive to his own interest, was naturally anxious to get
a share of that inviting field. He was most anxious to visit Sebituane too,
partly, perhaps, from a wish to show off his new acquirements,
but chiefly, I believe, from having very exalted ideas of the benefits
he would derive from the liberality of that renowned chieftain.
In age and family Sechele is the elder and superior of Sekomi;
for when the original tribe broke up into Bamangwato, Bangwaketse,
and Bakwains, the Bakwains retained the hereditary chieftainship;
so their chief, Sechele, possesses certain advantages over Sekomi,
the chief of the Bamangwato. If the two were traveling or hunting together,
Sechele would take, by right, the heads of the game shot by Sekomi.
There are several vestiges, besides, of very ancient partitions
and lordships of tribes. The elder brother of Sechele's father,
becoming blind, gave over the chieftainship to Sechele's father.
The descendants of this man pay no tribute to Sechele,
though he is the actual ruler, and superior to the head of that family;
and Sechele, while in every other respect supreme, calls him Kosi, or Chief.
The other tribes will not begin to eat the early pumpkins of a new crop
until they hear that the Bahurutse have "bitten it", and there is
a public ceremony on the occasion -- the son of the chief being the first
to taste of the new harvest.
Sechele, by my advice, sent men to Sekomi, asking leave for me to pass
along his path, accompanying the request with the present of an ox.
Sekomi's mother, who possesses great influence over him, refused permission,
because she had not been propitiated. This produced a fresh message;
and the most honorable man in the Bakwain tribe, next to Sechele, was sent
with an ox for both Sekomi and his mother. This, too, was met by refusal.
It was said, "The Matebele, the mortal enemies of the Bechuanas,
are in the direction of the lake, and, should they kill the white man,
we shall incur great blame from all his nation."
The exact position of the Lake Ngami had, for half a century at least,
been correctly pointed out by the natives, who had visited it
when rains were more copious in the Desert than in more recent times,
and many attempts had been made to reach it by passing through the Desert
in the direction indicated; but it was found impossible,
even for Griquas, who, having some Bushman blood in them,
may be supposed more capable of enduring thirst than Europeans.
It was clear, then, that our only chance of success was by going round,
instead of through, the Desert. The best time for the attempt
would have been about the end of the rainy season, in March or April,
for then we should have been likely to meet with pools of rain-water,
which always dry up during the rainless winter. I communicated my intention
to an African traveler, Colonel Steele, then aid-de-camp
to the Marquis of Tweedale at Madras, and he made it known to two
other gentlemen, whose friendship we had gained during their African travel,
namely, Major Vardon and Mr. Oswell. All of these gentlemen
were so enamored with African hunting and African discovery
that the two former must have envied the latter his good fortune in being able
to leave India to undertake afresh the pleasures and pains of desert life.
I believe Mr. Oswell came from his high position at a very considerable
pecuniary sacrifice, and with no other end in view but to extend
the boundaries of geographical knowledge. Before I knew of his coming,
I had arranged that the payment for the guides furnished by Sechele
should be the loan of my wagon, to bring back whatever ivory he might obtain
from the chief at the lake. When, at last, Mr. Oswell came,
bringing Mr. Murray with him, he undertook to defray
the entire expenses of the guides, and fully executed his generous intention.
Sechele himself would have come with us, but, fearing that
the much-talked-of assault of the Boers might take place during our absence,
and blame be attached to me for taking him away, I dissuaded him against it
by saying that he knew Mr. Oswell "would be as determined as himself
to get through the Desert."
Before narrating the incidents of this journey, I may give some account
of the great Kalahari Desert, in order that the reader may understand
in some degree the nature of the difficulties we had to encounter.
The space from the Orange River in the south, lat. 29 Degrees,
to Lake Ngami in the north, and from about 24 Degrees east long.
to near the west coast, has been called a desert simply because
it contains no running water, and very little water in wells.
It is by no means destitute of vegetation and inhabitants,
for it is covered with grass and a great variety of creeping plants;
besides which there are large patches of bushes, and even trees.
It is remarkably flat, but interesected in different parts
by the beds of ancient rivers; and prodigious herds of certain antelopes,
which require little or no water, roam over the trackless plains.
The inhabitants, Bushmen and Bakalahari, prey on the game
and on the countless rodentia and small species of the feline race
which subsist on these. In general, the soil is light-colored soft sand,
nearly pure silica. The beds of the ancient rivers contain
much alluvial soil; and as that is baked hard by the burning sun,
rain-water stands in pools in some of them for several months in the year.
The quantity of grass which grows on this remarkable region is astonishing,
even to those who are familiar with India. It usually rises in tufts
with bare spaces between, or the intervals are occupied by creeping plants,
which, having their roots buried far beneath the soil,
feel little the effects of the scorching sun. The number of these
which have tuberous roots is very great; and their structure is intended
to supply nutriment and moisture, when, during the long droughts,
they can be obtained nowhere else. Here we have an example of a plant,
not generally tuber-bearing, becoming so under circumstances where
that appendage is necessary to act as a reservoir for preserving its life;
and the same thing occurs in Angola to a species of grape-bearing vine,
which is so furnished for the same purpose. The plant to which
I at present refer is one of the cucurbitaceae, which bears a small,
scarlet-colored, eatable cucumber. Another plant, named Leroshua,
is a blessing to the inhabitants of the Desert. We see a small plant
with linear leaves, and a stalk not thicker than a crow's quill;
on digging down a foot or eighteen inches beneath, we come to a tuber,
often as large as the head of a young child; when the rind is removed,
we find it to be a mass of cellular tissue, filled with fluid
much like that in a young turnip. Owing to the depth beneath the soil
at which it is found, it is generally deliciously cool and refreshing.
Another kind, named Mokuri, is seen in other parts of the country,
where long-continued heat parches the soil. This plant
is an herbaceous creeper, and deposits under ground a number of tubers,
some as large as a man's head, at spots in a circle a yard or more,
horizontally, from the stem. The natives strike the ground
on the circumference of the circle with stones, till, by hearing
a difference of sound, they know the water-bearing tuber to be beneath.
They then dig down a foot or so, and find it.
But the most surprising plant of the Desert is the "Kengwe or Keme"
(`Cucumis caffer'), the watermelon. In years when more than the usual
quantity of rain falls, vast tracts of the country are literally covered
with these melons; this was the case annually when the fall of rain
was greater than it is now, and the Bakwains sent trading parties every year
to the lake. It happens commonly once every ten or eleven years,
and for the last three times its occurrence has coincided with
an extraordinarily wet season. Then animals of every sort and name,
including man, rejoice in the rich supply. The elephant,
true lord of the forest, revels in this fruit, and so do
the different species of rhinoceros, although naturally so diverse
in their choice of pasture. The various kinds of antelopes feed on them
with equal avidity, and lions, hyaenas, jackals, and mice,
all seem to know and appreciate the common blessing. These melons are not,
however, all of them eatable; some are sweet, and others so bitter
that the whole are named by the Boers the "bitter watermelon".
The natives select them by striking one melon after another with a hatchet,
and applying the tongue to the gashes. They thus readily distinguish
between the bitter and sweet. The bitter are deleterious,
but the sweet are quite wholesome. This peculiarity of one species of plant
bearing both sweet and bitter fruits occurs also in a red, eatable cucumber,
often met with in the country. It is about four inches long,
and about an inch and a half in diameter. It is of a bright scarlet color
when ripe. Many are bitter, others quite sweet. Even melons in a garden
may be made bitter by a few bitter kengwe in the vicinity.
The bees convey the pollen from one to the other.
The human inhabitants of this tract of country consist of
Bushmen and Bakalahari. The former are probably the aborigines
of the southern portion of the continent, the latter the remnants of
the first emigration of Bechuanas. The Bushmen live in the Desert
from choice, the Bakalahari from compulsion, and both possess
an intense love of liberty. The Bushmen are exceptions in language, race,
habits, and appearance. They are the only real nomads in the country;
they never cultivate the soil, nor rear any domestic animal
save wretched dogs. They are so intimately acquainted
with the habits of the game that they follow them in their migrations,
and prey upon them from place to place, and thus prove
as complete a check upon their inordinate increase as the other carnivora.
The chief subsistence of the Bushmen is the flesh of game,
but that is eked out by what the women collect of roots and beans,
and fruits of the Desert. Those who inhabit the hot sandy
plains of the Desert possess generally thin, wiry forms,
capable of great exertion and of severe privations. Many are of low stature,
though not dwarfish; the specimens brought to Europe have been selected,
like costermongers' dogs, on account of their extreme ugliness;
consequently, English ideas of the whole tribe are formed in the same way
as if the ugliest specimens of the English were exhibited in Africa
as characteristic of the entire British nation. That they are like baboons
is in some degree true, just as these and other simiae are in some points
frightfully human.
The Bakalahari are traditionally reported to be the oldest
of the Bechuana tribes, and they are said to have possessed
enormous herds of the large horned cattle mentioned by Bruce,
until they were despoiled of them and driven into the Desert
by a fresh migration of their own nation. Living ever since
on the same plains with the Bushmen, subjected to the same
influences of climate, enduring the same thirst, and subsisting
on similar food for centuries, they seem to supply a standing proof
that locality is not always sufficient of itself to account
for difference in races. The Bakalahari retain in undying vigor
the Bechuana love for agriculture and domestic animals.
They hoe their gardens annually, though often all they can hope for
is a supply of melons and pumpkins. And they carefully rear
small herds of goats, though I have seen them lift water for them
out of small wells with a bit of ostrich egg-shell, or by spoonfuls.
They generally attach themselves to influential men
in the different Bechuana tribes living adjacent to their desert home,
in order to obtain supplies of spears, knives, tobacco, and dogs, in exchange
for the skins of the animals they may kill. These are small carnivora of
the feline species, including two species of jackal, the dark and the golden;
the former, "motlose" (`Megalotis capensis' or `Cape fennec'),
has the warmest fur the country yields; the latter,
"pukuye" (`Canis mesomelas' and `C. aureus'), is very handsome
when made into the skin mantle called kaross. Next in value
follow the "tsipa" or small ocelot (`Felis nigripes'),
the "tuane" or lynx, the wild cat, the spotted cat, and other small animals.
Great numbers of `puti' (`duiker') and `puruhuru' (`steinbuck') skins
are got too, besides those of lions, leopards, panthers,
and hyaenas. During the time I was in the Bechuana country,
between twenty and thirty thousand skins were made up into karosses;
part of them were worn by the inhabitants, and part sold to traders:
many, I believe, find their way to China. The Bakwains bought tobacco
from the eastern tribes, then purchased skins with it from the Bakalahari,
tanned them, and sewed them into karosses, then went south to purchase
heifer-calves with them, cows being the highest form of riches known,
as I have often noticed from their asking "if Queen Victoria had many cows."
The compact they enter into is mutually beneficial, but injustice and wrong
are often perpetrated by one tribe of Bechuanas going among
the Bakalahari of another tribe, and compelling them to deliver up the skins
which they may be keeping for their friends. They are a timid race,
and in bodily development often resemble the aborigines of Australia.
They have thin legs and arms, and large, protruding abdomens,
caused by the coarse, indigestible food they eat. Their children's eyes
lack lustre. I never saw them at play. A few Bechuanas may go into
a village of Bakalahari, and domineer over the whole with impunity;
but when these same adventurers meet the Bushmen, they are fain
to change their manners to fawning sycophancy; they know that,
if the request for tobacco is refused, these free sons of the Desert
may settle the point as to its possession by a poisoned arrow.
The dread of visits from Bechuanas of strange tribes causes the Bakalahari
to choose their residences far from water; and they not unfrequently
hide their supplies by filling the pits with sand and making a fire
over the spot. When they wish to draw water for use, the women come
with twenty or thirty of their water-vessels in a bag or net on their backs.
These water-vessels consist of ostrich egg-shells, with a hole
in the end of each, such as would admit one's finger.
The women tie a bunch of grass to one end of a reed about two feet long,
and insert it in a hole dug as deep as the arm will reach;
then ram down the wet sand firmly round it. Applying the mouth
to the free end of the reed, they form a vacuum in the grass beneath,
in which the water collects, and in a short time rises into the mouth.
An egg-shell is placed on the ground alongside the reed,
some inches below the mouth of the sucker. A straw guides the water
into the hole of the vessel, as she draws mouthful after mouthful from below.
The water is made to pass along the outside, not through the straw.
If any one will attempt to squirt water into a bottle
placed some distance below his mouth, he will soon perceive
the wisdom of the Bushwoman's contrivance for giving the stream direction
by means of a straw. The whole stock of water is thus passed
through the woman's mouth as a pump, and, when taken home,
is carefully buried. I have come into villages where, had we acted
a domineering part, and rummaged every hut, we should have found nothing;
but by sitting down quietly, and waiting with patience
until the villagers were led to form a favorable opinion of us,
a woman would bring out a shellful of the precious fluid
from I know not where.
The so-called Desert, it may be observed, is by no means
a useless tract of country. Besides supporting multitudes of both
small and large animals, it sends something to the market of the world,
and has proved a refuge to many a fugitive tribe -- to the Bakalahari first,
and to the other Bechuanas in turn -- as their lands were overrun
by the tribe of true Caffres, called Matebele. The Bakwains, the Bangwaketze,
and the Bamangwato all fled thither; and the Matebele marauders,
who came from the well-watered east, perished by hundreds
in their attempts to follow them. One of the Bangwaketze chiefs,
more wily than the rest, sent false guides to lead them on a track where,
for hundreds of miles, not a drop of water could be found,
and they perished in consequence. Many Bakwains perished too.
Their old men, who could have told us ancient stories,
perished in these flights. An intelligent Mokwain related to me
how the Bushmen effectually balked a party of his tribe
which lighted on their village in a state of burning thirst.
Believing, as he said, that nothing human could subsist without water,
they demanded some, but were coolly told by these Bushmen that they had none,
and never drank any. Expecting to find them out, they resolved to watch them
night and day. They persevered for some days, thinking that at last
the water must come forth; but, notwithstanding their watchfulness,
kept alive by most tormenting thirst, the Bakwains were compelled to exclaim,
"Yak! yak! these are not men; let us go." Probably the Bushmen
had been subsisting on a store hidden under ground, which had eluded
the vigilance of their visitors.
Chapter 3.
Departure from Kolobeng, 1st June, 1849 -- Companions -- Our Route --
Abundance of Grass -- Serotli, a Fountain in the Desert --
Mode of digging Wells -- The Eland -- Animals of the Desert --
The Hyaena -- The Chief Sekomi -- Dangers -- The wandering Guide --
Cross Purposes -- Slow Progress -- Want of Water -- Capture of a Bushwoman
-- The Salt-pan at Nchokotsa -- The Mirage -- Reach the River Zouga --
The Quakers of Africa -- Discovery of Lake Ngami, 1st August, 1849 --
Its Extent -- Small Depth of Water -- Position as the Reservoir
of a great River System -- The Bamangwato and their Chief --
Desire to visit Sebituane, the Chief of the Makololo --
Refusal of Lechulatebe to furnish us with Guides --
Resolve to return to the Cape -- The Banks of the Zouga -- Pitfalls --
Trees of the District -- Elephants -- New Species of Antelope --
Fish in the Zouga.
Such was the desert which we were now preparing to cross --
a region formerly of terror to the Bechuanas from the numbers of serpents
which infested it and fed on the different kinds of mice,
and from the intense thirst which these people often endured
when their water-vessels were insufficient for the distances
to be traveled over before reaching the wells.
Just before the arrival of my companions, a party of the people of the lake
came to Kolobeng, stating that they were sent by Lechulatebe,
the chief, to ask me to visit that country. They brought
such flaming accounts of the quantities of ivory to be found there
(cattle-pens made of elephants' tusks of enormous size, &c.),
that the guides of the Bakwains were quite as eager to succeed
in reaching the lake as any one of us could desire. This was fortunate,
as we knew the way the strangers had come was impassable for wagons.
Messrs. Oswell and Murray came at the end of May, and we all made a fair start
for the unknown region on the 1st of June, 1849. Proceeding northward,
and passing through a range of tree-covered hills to Shokuane,
formerly the residence of the Bakwains, we soon after entered
on the high road to the Bamangwato, which lies generally
in the bed of an ancient river or wady that must formerly have flowed N. to S.
The adjacent country is perfectly flat, but covered with open forest and bush,
with abundance of grass; the trees generally are a kind of acacia
called "Monato", which appears a little to the south of this region,
and is common as far as Angola. A large caterpillar, called "Nato",
feeds by night on the leaves of these trees, and comes down by day
to bury itself at the root in the sand, in order to escape
the piercing rays of the sun. The people dig for it there,
and are fond of it when roasted, on account of its pleasant vegetable taste.
When about to pass into the chrysalis state, it buries itself in the soil,
and is sometimes sought for as food even then. If left undisturbed,
it comes forth as a beautiful butterfly: the transmutation
was sometimes employed by me with good effect when speaking with the natives,
as an illustration of our own great change and resurrection.
The soil is sandy, and there are here and there indications
that at spots which now afford no water whatever there were formerly
wells and cattle stations.
Boatlanama, our next station, is a lovely spot in the otherwise dry region.
The wells from which we had to lift out the water for our cattle are deep,
but they were well filled. A few villages of Bakalahari were found near them,
and great numbers of pallahs, springbucks, Guinea-fowl, and small monkeys.
Lopepe came next. This place afforded another proof
of the desiccation of the country. The first time I passed it,
Lopepe was a large pool with a stream flowing out of it to the south;
now it was with difficulty we could get our cattle watered
by digging down in the bottom of a well.
At Mashue -- where we found a never-failing supply of pure water
in a sandstone rocky hollow -- we left the road to the Bamangwato hills,
and struck away to the north into the Desert. Having watered the cattle
at a well called Lobotani, about N.W. of Bamangwato, we next proceeded
to a real Kalahari fountain, called Serotli. The country around is covered
with bushes and trees of a kind of leguminosae, with lilac flowers.
The soil is soft white sand, very trying to the strength of the oxen,
as the wheels sink into it over the felloes and drag heavily. At Serotli
we found only a few hollows like those made by the buffalo and rhinoceros
when they roll themselves in the mud. In a corner of one of these
there appeared water, which would have been quickly lapped up by our dogs,
had we not driven them away. And yet this was all the apparent supply
for some eighty oxen, twenty horses, and about a score of men.
Our guide, Ramotobi, who had spent his youth in the Desert, declared that,
though appearances were against us, there was plenty of water at hand.
We had our misgivings, for the spades were soon produced;
but our guides, despising such new-fangled aid, began in good earnest
to scrape out the sand with their hands. The only water we had any promise of
for the next seventy miles -- that is, for a journey of three days
with the wagons -- was to be got here. By the aid of both spades and fingers
two of the holes were cleared out, so as to form pits
six feet deep and about as many broad. Our guides were especially earnest
in their injunctions to us not to break through the hard stratum of sand
at the bottom, because they knew, if it were broken through,
"the water would go away." They are quite correct, for the water seems to lie
on this flooring of incipient sandstone. The value of the advice was proved
in the case of an Englishman whose wits were none of the brightest, who,
disregarding it, dug through the sandy stratum in the wells at Mohotluani:
the water immediately flowed away downward, and the well became useless.
When we came to the stratum, we found that the water flowed in on all sides
close to the line where the soft sand came in contact with it.
Allowing it to collect, we had enough for the horses that evening;
but as there was not sufficient for the oxen, we sent them back to Lobotani,
where, after thirsting four full days (ninety-six hours),
they got a good supply. The horses were kept by us as necessary
to procure game for the sustenance of our numerous party.
Next morning we found the water had flowed in faster than at first,
as it invariably does in these reservoirs, owing to the passages
widening by the flow. Large quantities of the sand come into the well
with the water, and in the course of a few days the supply, which may be equal
to the wants of a few men only, becomes sufficient for oxen as well.
In these sucking-places the Bakalahari get their supplies;
and as they are generally in the hollows of ancient river-beds,
they are probably the deposits from rains gravitating thither;
in some cases they may be the actual fountains, which, though formerly
supplying the river's flow, now no longer rise to the surface.
Here, though the water was perfectly inaccessible to elands,
large numbers of these fine animals fed around us; and, when killed,
they were not only in good condition, but their stomachs actually contained
considerable quantities of water.
I examined carefully the whole alimentary canal, in order to see
if there were any peculiarity which might account for the fact
that this animal can subsist for months together without drinking,
but found nothing. Other animals, such as the duiker (`Cephalopus mergens')
or puti (of the Bechuanas), the steinbuck (`Tragulus rupestris')
or puruhuru, the gemsbuck (`Oryx capensis') or kukama,
and the porcupine (`Hystrix cristata'), are all able to subsist without water
for many months at a time by living on bulbs and tubers containing moisture.
They have sharp-pointed hoofs well adapted for digging,
and there is little difficulty in comprehending their mode of subsistence.
Some animals, on the other hand, are never seen but in the vicinity of water.
The presence of the rhinoceros, of the buffalo and gnu (`Catoblepas gnu'),
of the giraffe, the zebra, and pallah (`Antilope melampus'), is always
a certain indication of water being within a distance of seven or eight miles;
but one may see hundreds of elands (`Boselaphus oreas'),
gemsbuck, the tolo or koodoo (`Strepsiceros capensis'),
also springbucks (`Gazella euchore') and ostriches, without being
warranted thereby in inferring the presence of water
within thirty or forty miles. Indeed, the sleek, fat condition of the eland
in such circumstances would not remove the apprehension of perishing by thirst
from the mind of even a native. I believe, however, that these animals
can subsist only where there is some moisture in the vegetation
on which they feed; for in one year of unusual drought we saw
herds of elands and flocks of ostriches crowding to the Zouga from the Desert,
and very many of the latter were killed in pitfalls on the banks.
As long as there is any sap in the pasturage they seldom need water.
But should a traveler see the "spoor" of a rhinoceros, or buffalo, or zebra,
he would at once follow it up, well assured that before he had gone many miles
he would certainly reach water.
In the evening of our second day at Serotli, a hyaena, appearing suddenly
among the grass, succeeded in raising a panic among our cattle.
This false mode of attack is the plan which this cowardly animal
always adopts. His courage resembles closely that of a turkey-cock.
He will bite, if an animal is running away; but if the animal stand still,
so does he. Seventeen of our draught oxen ran away, and in their flight
went right into the hands of Sekomi, whom, from his being unfriendly
to our success, we had no particular wish to see. Cattle-stealing,
such as in the circumstances might have occurred in Caffraria,
is here unknown; so Sekomi sent back our oxen, and a message
strongly dissuading us against attempting the Desert.
"Where are you going? You will be killed by the sun and thirst,
and then all the white men will blame me for not saving you."
This was backed by a private message from his mother. "Why do you pass me?
I always made the people collect to hear the word that you have got.
What guilt have I, that you pass without looking at me?" We replied
by assuring the messengers that the white men would attribute our deaths
to our own stupidity and "hard-headedness" (tlogo, e thata),
"as we did not intend to allow our companions and guides to return
till they had put us into our graves." We sent a handsome present to Sekomi,
and a promise that, if he allowed the Bakalahari to keep the wells
open for us, we would repeat the gift on our return.
After exhausting all his eloquence in fruitless attempts to persuade us
to return, the under-chief, who headed the party of Sekomi's messengers,
inquired, "Who is taking them?" Looking round, he exclaimed,
with a face expressive of the most unfeigned disgust, "It is Ramotobi!"
Our guide belonged to Sekomi's tribe, but had fled to Sechele;
as fugitives in this country are always well received, and may even afterward
visit the tribe from which they had escaped, Ramotobi was in no danger,
though doing that which he knew to be directly opposed
to the interests of his own chief and tribe.
All around Serotli the country is perfectly flat, and composed of
soft white sand. There is a peculiar glare of bright sunlight
from a cloudless sky over the whole scene; and one clump of trees and bushes,
with open spaces between, looks so exactly like another,
that if you leave the wells, and walk a quarter of a mile in any direction,
it is difficult to return. Oswell and Murray went out on one occasion
to get an eland, and were accompanied by one of the Bakalahari.
The perfect sameness of the country caused even this son of the Desert
to lose his way; a most puzzling conversation forthwith ensued
between them and their guide. One of the most common phrases of the people
is "Kia itumela", I thank you, or I am pleased; and the gentlemen
were both quite familiar with it, and with the word "metse", water.
But there is a word very similar in sound, "Kia timela", I am wandering;
its perfect is "Ki timetse", I have wandered. The party had been
roaming about, perfectly lost, till the sun went down; and,
through their mistaking the verb "wander" for "to be pleased", and "water",
the colloquy went on at intervals during the whole bitterly cold night
in somewhat the following style:
"Where are the wagons?"
REAL ANSWER. "I don't know. I have wandered. I never wandered before.
I am quite lost."
SUPPOSED ANSWER. "I don't know. I want water. I am glad,
I am quite pleased. I am thankful to you."
"Take us to the wagons, and you will get plenty of water."
REAL ANSWER (looking vacantly around). "How did I wander?
Perhaps the well is there, perhaps not. I don't know. I have wandered."
SUPPOSED ANSWER. "Something about thanks; he says he is pleased,
and mentions water again." The guide's vacant stare while trying to remember
is thought to indicate mental imbecility, and the repeated thanks
were supposed to indicate a wish to deprecate their wrath.
"Well, Livingstone HAS played us a pretty trick, giving us in charge
of an idiot. Catch us trusting him again. What can this fellow mean
by his thanks and talk about water? Oh, you born fool! take us to the wagons,
and you will get both meat and water. Wouldn't a thrashing
bring him to his senses again?" "No, no, for then he will run away,
and we shall be worse off than we are now."
The hunters regained the wagons next day by their own sagacity,
which becomes wonderfully quickened by a sojourn in the Desert;
and we enjoyed a hearty laugh on the explanation of their midnight colloquies.
Frequent mistakes of this kind occur. A man may tell his interpreter
to say that he is a member of the family of the chief of the white men;
"YES, YOU SPEAK LIKE A CHIEF," is the reply, meaning, as they explain it,
that a chief may talk nonsense without any one daring to contradict him.
They probably have ascertained, from that same interpreter,
that this relative of the white chief is very poor, having scarcely any thing
in his wagon.
I sometimes felt annoyed at the low estimation in which
some of my hunting friends were held; for, believing that the chase
is eminently conducive to the formation of a brave and noble character,
and that the contest with wild beasts is well adapted for fostering that
coolness in emergencies, and active presence of mind, which we all admire,
I was naturally anxious that a higher estimate of my countrymen
should be formed in the native mind. "Have these hunters,
who come so far and work so hard, no meat at home?" -- "Why, these men
are rich, and could slaughter oxen every day of their lives." -- "And yet
they come here, and endure so much thirst for the sake of this dry meat,
none of which is equal to beef?" -- "Yes, it is for the sake of play besides"
(the idea of sport not being in the language). This produces a laugh,
as much as to say, "Ah! you know better;" or, "Your friends are fools."
When they can get a man to kill large quantities of game for them,
whatever HE may think of himself or of his achievements,
THEY pride themselves in having adroitly turned to good account
the folly of an itinerant butcher.
The water having at last flowed into the wells we had dug
in sufficient quantity to allow a good drink to all our cattle,
we departed from Serotli in the afternoon; but as the sun, even in winter,
which it now was, is always very powerful by day, the wagons were dragged
but slowly through the deep, heavy sand, and we advanced only six miles
before sunset. We could only travel in the mornings and evenings,
as a single day in the hot sun and heavy sand would have knocked up the oxen.
Next day we passed Pepacheu (white tufa), a hollow lined with tufa,
in which water sometimes stands, but it was now dry; and at night
our trocheamer* showed that we had made but twenty-five miles from Serotli.
--
* This is an instrument which, when fastened on the wagon-wheel,
records the number of revolutions made. By multiplying this number
by the circumference of the wheel, the actual distance traveled over
is at once ascertained.
--
Ramotobi was angry at the slowness of our progress, and told us that,
as the next water was three days in front, if we traveled so slowly
we should never get there at all. The utmost endeavors of the servants,
cracking their whips, screaming and beating, got only nineteen miles
out of the poor beasts. We had thus proceeded forty-four miles from Serotli;
and the oxen were more exhausted by the soft nature of the country,
and the thirst, than if they had traveled double the distance over a hard road
containing supplies of water: we had, as far as we could judge,
still thirty miles more of the same dry work before us. At this season
the grass becomes so dry as to crumble to powder in the hands;
so the poor beasts stood wearily chewing, without taking
a single fresh mouthful, and lowing painfully at the smell of water
in our vessels in the wagons. We were all determined to succeed;
so we endeavored to save the horses by sending them forward with the guide,
as a means of making a desperate effort in case the oxen should fail.
Murray went forward with them, while Oswell and I remained
to bring the wagons on their trail as far as the cattle could drag them,
intending then to send the oxen forward too.
The horses walked quickly away from us; but, on the morning of the third day,
when we imagined the steeds must be near the water, we discovered them
just alongside the wagons. The guide, having come across
the fresh footprints of some Bushmen who had gone in an opposite direction
to that which we wished to go, turned aside to follow them.
An antelope had been ensnared in one of the Bushmen's pitfalls.
Murray followed Ramotobi most trustingly along the Bushmen's spoor,
though that led them away from the water we were in search of;
witnessed the operation of slaughtering, skinning, and cutting up
the antelope; and then, after a hard day's toil, found himself
close upon the wagons! The knowledge still retained by Ramotobi
of the trackless waste of scrub, through which we were now passing,
seemed admirable. For sixty or seventy miles beyond Serotli,
one clump of bushes and trees seemed exactly like another;
but, as we walked together this morning, he remarked,
"When we come to that hollow we shall light upon the highway of Sekomi;
and beyond that again lies the River Mokoko;" which,
though we passed along it, I could not perceive to be a river-bed at all.
After breakfast, some of the men, who had gone forward on a little path
with some footprints of water-loving animals upon it, returned with
the joyful tidings of "metse", water, exhibiting the mud on their knees
in confirmation of the news being true. It does one's heart good
to see the thirsty oxen rush into a pool of delicious rain-water,
as this was. In they dash until the water is deep enough to be nearly level
with their throat, and then they stand drawing slowly in
the long, refreshing mouthfuls, until their formerly collapsed sides
distend as if they would burst. So much do they imbibe, that a sudden jerk,
when they come out on the bank, makes some of the water run out again
from their mouths; but, as they have been days without food too,
they very soon commence to graze, and of grass there is always
abundance every where. This pool was called Mathuluani;
and thankful we were to have obtained so welcome a supply of water.
After giving the cattle a rest at this spot, we proceeded down
the dry bed of the River Mokoko. The name refers to the water-bearing stratum
before alluded to; and in this ancient bed it bears enough of water
to admit of permanent wells in several parts of it. We had now
the assurance from Ramotobi that we should suffer no more from thirst.
Twice we found rain-water in the Mokoko before we reached Mokokonyani,
where the water, generally below ground elsewhere, comes to the surface
in a bed of tufa. The adjacent country is all covered with low, thorny scrub,
with grass, and here and there clumps of the "wait-a-bit thorn",
or `Acacia detinens'. At Lotlakani (a little reed), another spring
three miles farther down, we met with the first Palmyra trees
which we had seen in South Africa; they were twenty-six in number.
The ancient Mokoko must have been joined by other rivers below this,
for it becomes very broad, and spreads out into a large lake,
of which the lake we were now in search of formed but a very small part.
We observed that, wherever an ant-eater had made his hole,
shells were thrown out with the earth, identical with those
now alive in the lake.
When we left the Mokoko, Ramotobi seemed, for the first time,
to be at a loss as to which direction to take. He had passed only once
away to the west of the Mokoko, the scenes of his boyhood. Mr. Oswell,
while riding in front of the wagons, happened to spy a Bushwoman running away
in a bent position, in order to escape observation. Thinking it to be a lion,
he galloped up to her. She thought herself captured, and began to deliver up
her poor little property, consisting of a few traps made of cords;
but, when I explained that we only wanted water, and would pay her
if she led us to it, she consented to conduct us to a spring.
It was then late in the afternoon, but she walked briskly before our horses
for eight miles, and showed us the water of Nchokotsa.
After leading us to the water, she wished to go away home,
if indeed she had any -- she had fled from a party of her countrymen,
and was now living far from all others with her husband --
but as it was now dark, we wished her to remain. As she believed herself
still a captive, we thought she might slip away by night; so, in order that
she should not go away with the impression that we were dishonest,
we gave her a piece of meat and a good large bunch of beads;
at the sight of the latter she burst into a merry laugh,
and remained without suspicion.
At Nchokotsa we came upon the first of a great number of salt-pans,
covered with an efflorescence of lime, probably the nitrate.
A thick belt of mopane-trees (a `Bauhinia') hides this salt-pan,
which is twenty miles in circumference, entirely from the view of a person
coming from the southeast; and, at the time the pan burst upon our view,
the setting sun was casting a beautiful blue haze over
the white incrustations, making the whole look exactly like a lake.
Oswell threw his hat up in the air at the sight, and shouted out a huzza
which made the poor Bushwoman and the Bakwains think him mad.
I was a little behind him, and was as completely deceived by it as he;
but, as we had agreed to allow each other to behold the lake
at the same instant, I felt a little chagrined that he had, unintentionally,
got the first glance. We had no idea that the long-looked-for lake was still
more than three hundred miles distant. One reason of our mistake was,
that the River Zouga was often spoken of by the same name as the lake,
viz., Noka ea Batletli ("River of the Batletli").
The mirage on these salinas was marvelous. It is never, I believe,
seen in perfection, except over such saline incrustations.
Here not a particle of imagination was necessary for realizing
the exact picture of large collections of water; the waves danced along above,
and the shadows of the trees were vividly reflected beneath the surface
in such an admirable manner, that the loose cattle, whose thirst
had not been slaked sufficiently by the very brackish water of Nchokotsa,
with the horses, dogs, and even the Hottentots ran off
toward the deceitful pools. A herd of zebras in the mirage
looked so exactly like elephants that Oswell began to saddle a horse
in order to hunt them; but a sort of break in the haze
dispelled the illusion. Looking to the west and northwest from Nchokotsa,
we could see columns of black smoke, exactly like those from a steam-engine,
rising to the clouds, and were assured that these arose
from the burning reeds of the Noka ea Batletli.
On the 4th of July we went forward on horseback toward what we supposed
to be the lake, and again and again did we seem to see it;
but at last we came to the veritable water of the Zouga,
and found it to be a river running to the N.E. A village of Bakurutse
lay on the opposite bank; these live among Batletli,
a tribe having a click in their language, and who were found by Sebituane
to possess large herds of the great horned cattle. They seem allied
to the Hottentot family. Mr. Oswell, in trying to cross the river,
got his horse bogged in the swampy bank. Two Bakwains and I managed
to get over by wading beside a fishing-weir. The people were friendly,
and informed us that this water came out of the Ngami. This news gladdened
all our hearts, for we now felt certain of reaching our goal. We might,
they said, be a moon on the way; but we had the River Zouga at our feet,
and by following it we should at last reach the broad water.
Next day, when we were quite disposed to be friendly with every one,
two of the Bamangwato, who had been sent on before us by Sekomi
to drive away all the Bushmen and Bakalahari from our path,
so that they should not assist or guide us, came and sat down by our fire.
We had seen their footsteps fresh in the way, and they had watched
our slow movements forward, and wondered to see how we, without any Bushmen,
found our way to the waters. This was the first time they had seen Ramotobi.
"You have reached the river now," said they; and we, quite disposed to laugh
at having won the game, felt no ill-will to any one. They seemed to feel
no enmity to us either; but, after an apparently friendly conversation,
proceeded to fulfill to the last the instructions of their chief.
Ascending the Zouga in our front, they circulated the report
that our object was to plunder all the tribes living on the river and lake;
but when they had got half way up the river, the principal man
sickened of fever, turned back some distance, and died.
His death had a good effect, for the villagers connected it with the injury
he was attempting to do to us. They all saw through Sekomi's reasons for
wishing us to fail in our attempt; and though they came to us at first armed,
kind and fair treatment soon produced perfect confidence.
When we had gone up the bank of this beautiful river about ninety-six miles
from the point where we first struck it, and understood that we were still
a considerable distance from the Ngami, we left all the oxen and wagons,
except Mr. Oswell's, which was the smallest, and one team, at Ngabisane,
in the hope that they would be recruited for the home journey,
while we made a push for the lake. The Bechuana chief of the Lake region,
who had sent men to Sechele, now sent orders to all the people on the river
to assist us, and we were received by the Bakoba, whose language
clearly shows that they bear an affinity to the tribes in the north.
They call themselves Bayeiye, i.e., men; but the Bechuanas call them Bakoba,
which contains somewhat of the idea of slaves. They have never
been known to fight, and, indeed, have a tradition that their forefathers,
in their first essays at war, made their bows of the Palma Christi,
and, when these broke, they gave up fighting altogether.
They have invariably submitted to the rule of every horde which has overrun
the countries adjacent to the rivers on which they specially love to dwell.
They are thus the Quakers of the body politic in Africa.
A long time after the period of our visit, the chief of the Lake,
thinking to make soldiers of them, took the trouble to furnish them
with shields. "Ah! we never had these before; that is the reason
we have always succumbed. Now we will fight." But a marauding party
came from the Makololo, and our "Friends" at once paddled quickly,
night and day, down the Zouga, never daring to look behind them
till they reached the end of the river, at the point where we first saw it.
The canoes of these inland sailors are truly primitive craft:
they are hollowed out of the trunks of single trees by means of iron adzes;
and if the tree has a bend, so has the canoe. I liked the frank and manly
bearing of these men, and, instead of sitting in the wagon, preferred a seat
in one of the canoes. I found they regarded their rude vessels
as the Arab does his camel. They have always fires in them,
and prefer sleeping in them while on a journey to spending the night on shore.
"On land you have lions," say they, "serpents, hyaenas, and your enemies;
but in your canoe, behind a bank of reed, nothing can harm you."
Their submissive disposition leads to their villages being frequently visited
by hungry strangers. We had a pot on the fire in the canoe by the way,
and when we drew near the villages devoured the contents.
When fully satisfied ourselves, I found we could all look upon any intruders
with perfect complacency, and show the pot in proof of having devoured
the last morsel.
While ascending in this way the beautifully-wooded river,
we came to a large stream flowing into it. This was the River Tamunak'le.
I inquired whence it came. "Oh, from a country full of rivers --
so many no one can tell their number -- and full of large trees."
This was the first confirmation of statements I had heard
from the Bakwains who had been with Sebituane, that the country beyond
was not "the large sandy plateau" of the philosophers.
The prospect of a highway capable of being traversed by boats
to an entirely unexplored and very populous region,
grew from that time forward stronger and stronger in my mind;
so much so that, when we actually came to the lake, this idea occupied
such a large portion of my mental vision that the actual discovery
seemed of but little importance. I find I wrote, when the emotions caused
by the magnificent prospects of the new country were first awakened
in my breast, that they "might subject me to the charge of enthusiasm,
a charge which I wished I deserved, as nothing good or great
had ever been accomplished in the world without it."*
--
* Letters published by the Royal Geographical Society.
Read 11th February and 8th April, 1850.
--
Twelve days after our departure from the wagons at Ngabisane
we came to the northeast end of Lake Ngami; and on the 1st of August, 1849,
we went down together to the broad part, and, for the first time,
this fine-looking sheet of water was beheld by Europeans.
The direction of the lake seemed to be N.N.E. and S.S.W. by compass.
The southern portion is said to bend round to the west,
and to receive the Teoughe from the north at its northwest extremity.
We could detect no horizon where we stood looking S.S.W.,
nor could we form any idea of the extent of the lake, except from
the reports of the inhabitants of the district; and, as they professed
to go round it in three days, allowing twenty-five miles a day
would make it seventy-five, or less than seventy geographical miles
in circumference. Other guesses have been made since as to its circumference,
ranging between seventy and one hundred miles. It is shallow,
for I subsequently saw a native punting his canoe over seven or eight miles
of the northeast end; it can never, therefore, be of much value
as a commercial highway. In fact, during the months preceding
the annual supply of water from the north, the lake is so shallow
that it is with difficulty cattle can approach the water
through the boggy, reedy banks. These are low on all sides, but on the west
there is a space devoid of trees, showing that the waters have retired thence
at no very ancient date. This is another of the proofs of desiccation
met with so abundantly throughout the whole country. A number of dead trees
lie on this space, some of them imbedded in the mud, right in the water.
We were informed by the Bayeiye, who live on the lake,
that when the annual inundation begins, not only trees of great size,
but antelopes, as the springbuck and tsessebe (`Acronotus lunata'),
are swept down by its rushing waters; the trees are gradually driven
by the winds to the opposite side, and become imbedded in mud.
The water of the lake is perfectly fresh when full, but brackish when low;
and that coming down the Tamunak'le we found to be so clear, cold, and soft,
the higher we ascended, that the idea of melting snow was suggested
to our minds. We found this region, with regard to that
from which we had come, to be clearly a hollow, the lowest point
being Lake Kumadau; the point of the ebullition of water,
as shown by one of Newman's barometric thermometers, was only between
207-1/2 Deg. and 206 Deg., giving an elevation of not much more
than two thousand feet above the level of the sea. We had descended
above two thousand feet in coming to it from Kolobeng.
It is the southern and lowest part of the great river system beyond,
in which large tracts of country are inundated annually by tropical rains,
hereafter to be described. A little of that water, which in the countries
farther north produces inundation, comes as far south as 20d 20',
the latitude of the upper end of the lake, and instead of
flooding the country, falls into the lake as into a reservoir.
It begins to flow down the Embarrah, which divides into the rivers
Tzo and Teoughe. The Tzo divides into the Tamunak'le and Mababe;
the Tamunak'le discharges itself into the Zouga, and the Teoughe
into the lake. The flow begins either in March or April,
and the descending waters find the channels of all these rivers dried out,
except in certain pools in their beds, which have long dry spaces
between them. The lake itself is very low. The Zouga is but
a prolongation of the Tamunak'le, and an arm of the lake
reaches up to the point where the one ends and the other begins.
The last is narrow and shallow, while the Zouga is broad and deep.
The narrow arm of the lake, which on the map looks like
a continuation of the Zouga, has never been observed to flow either way.
It is as stagnant as the lake itself.
The Teoughe and Tamunak'le, being essentially the same river,
and receiving their supplies from the same source (the Embarrah or Varra),
can never outrun each other. If either could, or if the Teoughe
could fill the lake -- a thing which has never happened in modern times --
then this little arm would prove a convenient escapement
to prevent inundation. If the lake ever becomes lower
than the bed of the Zouga, a little of the water of the Tamunak'le
might flow into it instead of down the Zouga; we should then have
the phenomenon of a river flowing two ways; but this has never been observed
to take place here, and it is doubtful if it ever can occur in this locality.
The Zouga is broad and deep when it leaves the Tamunak'le,
but becomes gradually narrower as you descend about two hundred miles;
there it flows into Kumadau, a small lake about three or four miles broad
and twelve long. The water, which higher up begins to flow in April,
does not make much progress in filling this lake till the end of June.
In September the rivers cease to flow. When the supply has been
more than usually abundant, a little water flows beyond Kumadau,
in the bed first seen by us on the 4th of July; if the quantity were larger,
it might go further in the dry rocky bed of the Zouga, since seen
still further to the east. The water supply of this part of the river system,
as will be more fully explained further on, takes place in channels prepared
for a much more copious flow. It resembles a deserted Eastern garden,
where all the embankments and canals for irrigation can be traced,
but where, the main dam and sluices having been allowed to get out of repair,
only a small portion can be laid under water. In the case of the Zouga
the channel is perfect, but water enough to fill the whole channel
never comes down; and before it finds its way much beyond Kumadau,
the upper supply ceases to run and the rest becomes evaporated.
The higher parts of its bed even are much broader and more capacious
than the lower toward Kumadau. The water is not absorbed so much as lost
in filling up an empty channel, from which it is to be removed
by the air and sun. There is, I am convinced, no such thing in the country
as a river running into sand and becoming lost. The phenomenon,
so convenient for geographers, haunted my fancy for years; but I have failed
in discovering any thing except a most insignificant approach to it.
My chief object in coming to the lake was to visit Sebituane,
the great chief of the Makololo, who was reported to live some
two hundred miles beyond. We had now come to a half-tribe of the Bamangwato,
called Batauana. Their chief was a young man named Lechulatebe.
Sebituane had conquered his father Moremi, and Lechulatebe
received part of his education while a captive among the Bayeiye.
His uncle, a sensible man, ransomed him; and, having collected
a number of families together, abdicated the chieftainship
in favor of his nephew. As Lechulatebe had just come into power,
he imagined that the proper way of showing his abilities
was to act directly contrary to every thing that his uncle advised.
When we came, the uncle recommended him to treat us handsomely,
therefore the hopeful youth presented us with a goat only.
It ought to have been an ox. So I proposed to my companions
to loose the animal and let him go, as a hint to his master.
They, however, did not wish to insult him. I, being more of a native,
and familiar with their customs, knew that this shabby present
was an insult to us. We wished to purchase some goats or oxen;
Lechulatebe offered us elephants' tusks. "No, we can not eat these;
we want something to fill our stomachs." "Neither can I;
but I hear you white men are all very fond of these bones, so I offer them;
I want to put the goats into my own stomach." A trader, who accompanied us,
was then purchasing ivory at the rate of ten good large tusks
for a musket worth thirteen shillings. They were called "bones";
and I myself saw eight instances in which the tusks had been left
to rot with the other bones where the elephant fell. The Batauana never had
a chance of a market before; but, in less than two years after our discovery,
not a man of them could be found who was not keenly alive
to the great value of the article.
On the day after our arrival at the lake, I applied to Lechulatebe
for guides to Sebituane. As he was much afraid of that chief, he objected,
fearing lest other white men should go thither also, and give Sebituane guns;
whereas, if the traders came to him alone, the possession of fire-arms
would give him such a superiority that Sebituane would be afraid of him.
It was in vain to explain that I would inculcate peace between them --
that Sebituane had been a father to him and Sechele, and was
as anxious to see me as he, Lechulatebe, had been. He offered to give me
as much ivory as I needed without going to that chief;
but when I refused to take any, he unwillingly consented to give me guides.
Next day, however, when Oswell and I were prepared to start,
with the horses only, we received a senseless refusal; and like Sekomi,
who had thrown obstacles in our way, he sent men to the Bayeiye with orders
to refuse us a passage across the river. Trying hard to form a raft
at a narrow part, I worked many hours in the water; but the dry wood
was so worm-eaten it would not bear the weight of a single person.
I was not then aware of the number of alligators which exist in the Zouga,
and never think of my labor in the water without feeling thankful
that I escaped their jaws. The season was now far advanced;
and as Mr. Oswell, with his wonted generous feelings, volunteered,
on the spot, to go down to the Cape and bring up a boat,
we resolved to make our way south again.
Coming down the Zouga, we had now time to look at its banks.
These are very beautiful, resembling closely many parts of the River Clyde
above Glasgow. The formation is soft calcareous tufa,
such as forms the bottom of all this basin. The banks are perpendicular
on the side to which the water swings, and sloping and grassy on the other.
The slopes are selected for the pitfalls designed by the Bayeiye
to entrap the animals as they come to drink. These are about
seven or eight feet deep, three or four feet wide at the mouth,
and gradually decrease till they are only about a foot wide at the bottom.
The mouth is an oblong square (the only square thing made by the Bechuanas,
for every thing else is round), and the long diameter at the surface
is about equal to the depth. The decreasing width toward the bottom
is intended to make the animal wedge himself more firmly in
by his weight and struggles. The pitfalls are usually in pairs,
with a wall a foot thick left uncut between the ends of each,
so that if the beast, when it feels its fore legs descending,
should try to save itself from going in altogether by striding the hind legs,
he would spring forward and leap into the second with a force
which insures the fall of his whole body into the trap.
They are covered with great care. All the excavated earth is removed
to a distance, so as not to excite suspicion in the minds of the animals.
Reeds and grass are laid across the top; above this the sand is thrown,
and watered so as to appear exactly like the rest of the spot.
Some of our party plumped into these pitfalls more than once,
even when in search of them, in order to open them to prevent
the loss of our cattle. If an ox sees a hole, he carefully avoids it;
and old elephants have been known to precede the herd and whisk off
the coverings of the pitfalls on each side all the way down to the water.
We have known instances in which the old among these sagacious animals
have actually lifted the young out of the trap.
The trees which adorn the banks are magnificent. Two enormous baobabs
(`Adansonia digitata'), or mowanas, grow near its confluence with the lake
where we took the observations for the latitude (20d 20' S.).
We were unable to ascertain the longitude of the lake,
as our watches were useless; it may be between 22 Deg. and 23 Deg. E.
The largest of the two baobabs was 76 feet in girth.
The palmyra appears here and there among trees not met with in the south.
The mokuchong, or moshoma, bears an edible fruit of indifferent quality,
but the tree itself would be a fine specimen of arboreal beauty
in any part of the world. The trunk is often converted into canoes.
The motsouri, which bears a pink plum containing a pleasant acid juice,
resembles an orange-tree in its dark evergreen foliage, and a cypress
in its form. It was now winter-time, and we saw nothing of the flora.
The plants and bushes were dry; but wild indigo abounded, as indeed it does
over large tracts of Africa. It is called mohetolo, or the "changer",
by the boys, who dye their ornaments of straw with the juice.
There are two kinds of cotton in the country, and the Mashona,
who convert it into cloth, dye it blue with this plant.
We found the elephants in prodigious numbers on the southern bank.
They come to drink by night, and after having slaked their thirst --
in doing which they throw large quantities of water over themselves,
and are heard, while enjoying the refreshment, screaming with delight --
they evince their horror of pitfalls by setting off in a straight line
to the desert, and never diverge till they are eight or ten miles off.
They are smaller here than in the countries farther south.
At the Limpopo, for instance, they are upward of twelve feet high;
here, only eleven: farther north we shall find them nine feet only.
The koodoo, or tolo, seemed smaller, too, than those we had been
accustomed to see. We saw specimens of the kuabaoba,
or straight-horned rhinoceros (`R. Oswellii'), which is a variety
of the white (`R. simus'); and we found that, from the horn being
projected downward, it did not obstruct the line of vision,
so that this species is able to be much more wary than its neighbors.
We discovered an entirely new species of antelope, called leche or lechwi.
It is a beautiful water-antelope of a light brownish-yellow color.
Its horns -- exactly like those of the `Aigoceros ellipsiprimnus',
the waterbuck, or tumogo, of the Bechuanas -- rise from the head with
a slight bend backward, then curve forward at the points. The chest, belly,
and orbits are nearly white, the front of the legs and ankles deep brown.
From the horns, along the nape to the withers, the male has
a small mane of the same yellowish color with the rest of the skin,
and the tail has a tuft of black hair. It is never found a mile from water;
islets in marshes and rivers are its favorite haunts, and it is quite unknown
except in the central humid basin of Africa. Having a good deal of curiosity,
it presents a noble appearance as it stands gazing, with head erect,
at the approaching stranger. When it resolves to decamp, it lowers its head,
and lays its horns down to a level with the withers; it then begins
with a waddling trot, which ends in its galloping and springing over bushes
like the pallahs. It invariably runs to the water, and crosses it
by a succession of bounds, each of which appears to be from the bottom.
We thought the flesh good at first, but soon got tired of it.
Great shoals of excellent fish come down annually with the access of waters.
The mullet (`Mugil Africanus') is the most abundant. They are caught in nets.
The `Glanis siluris', a large, broad-headed fish, without scales, and barbed
-- called by the natives "mosala" -- attains an enormous size and fatness.
They are caught so large that when a man carries one over his shoulder
the tail reaches the ground. It is a vegetable feeder,
and in many of its habits resembles the eel. Like most lophoid fishes,
it has the power of retaining a large quantity of water
in a part of its great head, so that it can leave the river,
and even be buried in the mud of dried-up pools, without being destroyed.
Another fish closely resembling this, and named `Clarias capensis'
by Dr. Smith, is widely diffused throughout the interior,
and often leaves the rivers for the sake of feeding in pools.
As these dry up, large numbers of them are entrapped by the people.
A water-snake, yellow-spotted and dark brown, is often seen swimming along
with its head above the water: it is quite harmless, and is relished as food
by the Bayeiye.
They mention ten kinds of fish in their river; and, in their songs of praise
to the Zouga, say, "The messenger sent in haste is always forced
to spend the night on the way by the abundance of food you place before him."
The Bayeiye live much on fish, which is quite an abomination
to the Bechuanas of the south; and they catch them in large numbers
by means of nets made of the fine, strong fibres of the hibiscus,
which grows abundantly in all moist places. Their float-ropes
are made of the ife, or, as it is now called, the `Sanseviere Angolensis',
a flag-looking plant, having a very strong fibre, that abounds
from Kolobeng to Angola; and the floats themselves are pieces of a water-plant
containing valves at each joint, which retain the air in cells
about an inch long. The mode of knotting the nets is identical with our own.
They also spear the fish with javelins having a light handle,
which readily floats on the surface. They show great dexterity
in harpooning the hippopotamus; and, the barbed blade of the spear
being attached to a rope made of the young leaves of the palmyra,
the animal can not rid himself of the canoe, attached to him in whale fashion,
except by smashing it, which he not unfrequently does
by his teeth or by a stroke of his hind foot.
On returning to the Bakurutse, we found that their canoes for fishing
were simply large bundles of reeds tied together. Such a canoe
would be a ready extemporaneous pontoon for crossing any river
that had reedy banks.
Chapter 4.
Leave Kolobeng again for the Country of Sebituane -- Reach the Zouga --
The Tsetse -- A Party of Englishmen -- Death of Mr. Rider --
Obtain Guides -- Children fall sick with Fever -- Relinquish the Attempt
to reach Sebituane -- Mr. Oswell's Elephant-hunting --
Return to Kolobeng -- Make a third Start thence --
Reach Nchokotsa -- Salt-pans -- "Links", or Springs -- Bushmen --
Our Guide Shobo -- The Banajoa -- An ugly Chief -- The Tsetse --
Bite fatal to domestic Animals, but harmless to wild Animals and Man --
Operation of the Poison -- Losses caused by it -- The Makololo --
Our Meeting with Sebituane -- Sketch of his Career --
His Courage and Conquests -- Manoeuvres of the Batoka -- He outwits them
-- His Wars with the Matebele -- Predictions of a native Prophet --
Successes of the Makololo -- Renewed Attacks of the Matebele --
The Island of Loyelo -- Defeat of the Matebele -- Sebituane's Policy --
His Kindness to Strangers and to the Poor -- His sudden Illness and Death --
Succeeded by his Daughter -- Her Friendliness to us -- Discovery,
in June, 1851, of the Zambesi flowing in the Centre of the Continent --
Its Size -- The Mambari -- The Slave-trade -- Determine to send Family
to England -- Return to the Cape in April, 1852 -- Safe Transit through
the Caffre Country during Hostilities -- Need of a "Special Correspondent"
-- Kindness of the London Missionary Society -- Assistance afforded
by the Astronomer Royal at the Cape.
Having returned to Kolobeng, I remained there till April, 1850,
and then left in company with Mrs. Livingstone, our three children,
and the chief Sechele -- who had now bought a wagon of his own --
in order to go across the Zouga at its lower end, with the intention
of proceeding up the northern bank till we gained the Tamunak'le,
and of then ascending that river to visit Sebituane in the north.
Sekomi had given orders to fill up the wells which we had dug
with so much labor at Serotli, so we took the more eastern route
through the Bamangwato town and by Letloche. That chief asked
why I had avoided him in our former journeys. I replied that my reason
was that I knew he did not wish me to go to the lake, and I did not want
to quarrel with him. "Well," he said, "you beat me then, and I am content."
Parting with Sechele at the ford, as he was eager to visit Lechulatebe,
we went along the northern woody bank of the Zouga with great labor,
having to cut down very many trees to allow the wagons to pass.
Our losses by oxen falling into pitfalls were very heavy.
The Bayeiye kindly opened the pits when they knew of our approach;
but when that was not the case, we could blame no one on finding
an established custom of the country inimical to our interests.
On approaching the confluence of the Tamunak'le we were informed
that the fly called tsetse* abounded on its banks. This was a barrier
we never expected to meet; and, as it might have brought our wagons
to a complete stand-still in a wilderness, where no supplies for the children
could be obtained, we were reluctantly compelled to recross the Zouga.
--
* `Glossina morsitans', the first specimens of which were brought to England
in 1848 by my friend Major Vardon, from the banks of the Limpopo.
--
From the Bayeiye we learned that a party of Englishmen,
who had come to the lake in search of ivory, were all laid low by fever,
so we traveled hastily down about sixty miles to render what aid
was in our power. We were grieved to find, as we came near,
that Mr. Alfred Rider, an enterprising young artist who had come to make
sketches of this country and of the lake immediately after its discovery,
had died of fever before our arrival; but by the aid of medicines
and such comforts as could be made by the only English lady
who ever visited the lake, the others happily recovered.
The unfinished drawing of Lake Ngami was made by Mr. Rider
just before his death, and has been kindly lent for this work
by his bereaved mother.
Sechele used all his powers of eloquence with Lechulatebe to induce him
to furnish guides that I might be able to visit Sebituane on ox-back,
while Mrs. Livingstone and the children remained at Lake Ngami.
He yielded at last. I had a very superior London-made gun,
the gift of Lieutenant Arkwright, on which I placed the greatest value,
both on account of the donor and the impossibility of my replacing it.
Lechulatebe fell violently in love with it, and offered
whatever number of elephants' tusks I might ask for it.
I too was enamored with Sebituane; and as he promised in addition
that he would furnish Mrs. Livingstone with meat all the time of my absence,
his arguments made me part with the gun. Though he had no ivory at the time
to pay me, I felt the piece would be well spent on those terms,
and delivered it to him. All being ready for our departure,
I took Mrs. Livingstone about six miles from the town, that she might have
a peep at the broad part of the lake. Next morning we had other work to do
than part, for our little boy and girl were seized with fever.
On the day following, all our servants were down too with the same complaint.
As nothing is better in these cases than change of place,
I was forced to give up the hope of seeing Sebituane that year;
so, leaving my gun as part payment for guides next year,
we started for the pure air of the Desert.
Some mistake had happened in the arrangement with Mr. Oswell, for we met him
on the Zouga on our return, and he devoted the rest of this season
to elephant-hunting, at which the natives universally declare
he is the greatest adept that ever came into the country.
He hunted without dogs. It is remarkable that this lordly animal
is so completely harassed by the presence of a few yelping curs
as to be quite incapable of attending to man. He makes awkward attempts
to crush them by falling on his knees; and sometimes places his forehead
against a tree ten inches in diameter; glancing on one side of the tree
and then on the other, he pushes it down before him, as if he thought thereby
to catch his enemies. The only danger the huntsman has to apprehend is
the dogs running toward him, and thereby leading the elephant to their master.
Mr. Oswell has been known to kill four large old male elephants a day.
The value of the ivory in these cases would be one hundred guineas.
We had reason to be proud of his success, for the inhabitants
conceived from it a very high idea of English courage;
and when they wished to flatter me would say, "If you were not a missionary
you would just be like Oswell; you would not hunt with dogs either."
When, in 1852, we came to the Cape, my black coat eleven years out of fashion,
and without a penny of salary to draw, we found that Mr. Oswell
had most generously ordered an outfit for the half-naked children,
which cost about 200 Pounds, and presented it to us, saying he thought
Mrs. Livingstone had a right to the game of her own preserves.
Foiled in this second attempt to reach Sebituane, we returned again
to Kolobeng, whither we were soon followed by a number of messengers
from that chief himself. When he heard of our attempts to visit him,
he dispatched three detachments of his men with thirteen brown cows
to Lechulatebe, thirteen white cows to Sekomi, and thirteen black cows
to Sechele, with a request to each to assist the white men to reach him.
Their policy, however, was to keep him out of view, and act as his agents
in purchasing with his ivory the goods he wanted. This is thoroughly African;
and that continent being without friths and arms of the sea,
the tribes in the centre have always been debarred from European intercourse
by its universal prevalence among all the people around the coasts.
Before setting out on our third journey to Sebituane, it was necessary
to visit Kuruman; and Sechele, eager, for the sake of the commission thereon,
to get the ivory of that chief into his own hands, allowed all the messengers
to leave before our return. Sekomi, however, was more than usually gracious,
and even furnished us with a guide, but no one knew the path beyond Nchokotsa
which we intended to follow. When we reached that point,
we found that the main spring of the gun of another of his men,
who was well acquainted with the Bushmen, through whose country
we should pass, had opportunely broken. I never undertook to mend a gun
with greater zest than this; for, under promise of his guidance,
we went to the north instead of westward. All the other guides
were most liberally rewarded by Mr. Oswell.
We passed quickly over a hard country, which is perfectly flat. A little soil
lying on calcareous tufa, over a tract of several hundreds of miles,
supports a vegetation of fine sweet short grass, and mopane and baobab trees.
On several parts of this we found large salt-pans, one of which,
Ntwetwe, is fifteen miles broad and one hundred long.
The latitude might have been taken on its horizon as well as upon the sea.
Although these curious spots seem perfectly level, all those in this direction
have a gentle slope to the northeast: thither the rain-water,
which sometimes covers them, gently gravitates. This, it may be recollected,
is the direction of the Zouga. The salt dissolved in the water
has by this means all been transferred to one pan in that direction,
named Chuantsa; on it we see a cake of salt and lime an inch and a half thick.
All the others have an efflorescence of lime and one of the nitrates only,
and some are covered thickly with shells. These shells are identical
with those of the mollusca of Lake Ngami and the Zouga.
There are three varieties, spiral, univalve, and bivalve.
In every salt-pan in the country there is a spring of water on one side.
I can remember no exception to this rule. The water of these springs
is brackish, and contains the nitrate of soda. In one instance
there are two springs, and one more saltish than the other.
If this supply came from beds of rock salt the water would not be drinkable,
as it generally is, and in some instances, where the salt contained in the pan
in which these springs appear has been removed by human agency,
no fresh deposit occurs. It is therefore probable that these deposits of salt
are the remains of the very slightly brackish lakes of antiquity,
large portions of which must have been dried out in the general desiccation.
We see an instance in Lake Ngami, which, when low, becomes brackish,
and this view seems supported by the fact that the largest quantities of salt
have been found in the deepest hollows or lowest valleys,
which have no outlet or outgoing gorge; and a fountain,
about thirty miles south of the Bamangwato -- the temperature of which
is upward of 100 Deg. -- while strongly impregnated with pure salt,
being on a flat part of the country, is accompanied by no deposit.
When these deposits occur in a flat tufaceous country like the present,
a large space is devoid of vegetation, on account of the nitrates
dissolving the tufa, and keeping it in a state unfavorable to
the growth of plants.
We found a great number of wells in this tufa. A place
called Matlomagan-yana, or the "Links", is quite a chain
of these never-failing springs. As they occasionally become full
in seasons when no rain falls, and resemble somewhat in this respect
the rivers we have already mentioned, it is probable they receive some water
by percolation from the river system in the country beyond. Among these links
we found many families of Bushmen; and, unlike those on the plains
of the Kalahari, who are generally of short stature and light yellow color,
these were tall, strapping fellows, of dark complexion. Heat alone
does not produce blackness of skin, but heat with moisture seems to insure
the deepest hue.
One of these Bushmen, named Shobo, consented to be our guide
over the waste between these springs and the country of Sebituane.
Shobo gave us no hope of water in less than a month. Providentially, however,
we came sooner than we expected to some supplies of rain-water
in a chain of pools. It is impossible to convey an idea of the dreary scene
on which we entered after leaving this spot: the only vegetation
was a low scrub in deep sand; not a bird or insect enlivened the landscape.
It was, without exception, the most uninviting prospect I ever beheld;
and, to make matters worse, our guide Shobo wandered on the second day.
We coaxed him on at night, but he went to all points of the compass
on the trails of elephants which had been here in the rainy season,
and then would sit down in the path, and in his broken Sichuana say,
"No water, all country only; Shobo sleeps; he breaks down; country only;"
and then coolly curl himself up and go to sleep. The oxen were
terribly fatigued and thirsty; and on the morning of the fourth day,
Shobo, after professing ignorance of every thing, vanished altogether.
We went on in the direction in which we last saw him,
and about eleven o'clock began to see birds; then the trail of a rhinoceros.
At this we unyoked the oxen, and they, apparently knowing the sign,
rushed along to find the water in the River Mahabe, which comes from
the Tamunak'le, and lay to the west of us. The supply of water in the wagons
had been wasted by one of our servants, and by the afternoon only
a small portion remained for the children. This was a bitterly anxious night;
and next morning the less there was of water, the more thirsty
the little rogues became. The idea of their perishing before our eyes
was terrible. It would almost have been a relief to me
to have been reproached with being the entire cause of the catastrophe;
but not one syllable of upbraiding was uttered by their mother,
though the tearful eye told the agony within. In the afternoon
of the fifth day, to our inexpressible relief, some of the men returned
with a supply of that fluid of which we had never before felt the true value.
The cattle, in rushing along to the water in the Mahabe,
probably crossed a small patch of trees containing tsetse,
an insect which was shortly to become a perfect pest to us.
Shobo had found his way to the Bayeiye, and appeared,
when we came up to the river, at the head of a party; and, as he wished
to show his importance before his friends, he walked up boldly
and commanded our whole cavalcade to stop, and to bring forth
fire and tobacco, while he coolly sat down and smoked his pipe.
It was such an inimitably natural way of showing off, that we all stopped
to admire the acting, and, though he had left us previously in the lurch,
we all liked Shobo, a fine specimen of that wonderful people, the Bushmen.
Next day we came to a village of Banajoa, a tribe which extends
far to the eastward. They were living on the borders of a marsh in which
the Mahabe terminates. They had lost their crop of corn (`Holcus sorghum'),
and now subsisted almost entirely on the root called "tsitla",
a kind of aroidoea, which contains a very large quantity of
sweet-tasted starch. When dried, pounded into meal, and allowed to ferment,
it forms a not unpleasant article of food. The women shave all the hair
off their heads, and seem darker than the Bechuanas. Their huts were built
on poles, and a fire is made beneath by night, in order that the smoke
may drive away the mosquitoes, which abound on the Mababe and Tamunak'le
more than in any other part of the country. The head man of this village,
Majane, seemed a little wanting in ability, but had had wit enough
to promote a younger member of the family to the office. This person,
the most like the ugly negro of the tobacconists' shops I ever saw,
was called Moroa Majane, or son of Majane, and proved an active guide
across the River Sonta, and to the banks of the Chobe,
in the country of Sebituane. We had come through another tsetse district
by night, and at once passed our cattle over to the northern bank
to preserve them from its ravages.
A few remarks on the Tsetse, or `Glossina morsitans', may here be appropriate.
It is not much larger than the common house-fly, and is nearly
of the same brown color as the common honey-bee; the after part of the body
has three or four yellow bars across it; the wings project
beyond this part considerably, and it is remarkably alert,
avoiding most dexterously all attempts to capture it with the hand
at common temperatures; in the cool of the mornings and evenings
it is less agile. Its peculiar buzz when once heard can never be forgotten
by the traveler whose means of locomotion are domestic animals;
for it is well known that the bite of this poisonous insect
is certain death to the ox, horse, and dog. In this journey,
though we were not aware of any great number having at any time
lighted on our cattle, we lost forty-three fine oxen by its bite.
We watched the animals carefully, and believe that not a score of flies
were ever upon them.
A most remarkable feature in the bite of the tsetse is
its perfect harmlessness in man and wild animals, and even calves,
so long as they continue to suck the cows. We never experienced
the slightest injury from them ourselves, personally, although we lived
two months in their HABITAT, which was in this case as sharply defined
as in many others, for the south bank of the Chobe was infested by them,
and the northern bank, where our cattle were placed, only fifty yards distant,
contained not a single specimen. This was the more remarkable,
as we often saw natives carrying over raw meat to the opposite bank
with many tsetse settled upon it.
The poison does not seem to be injected by a sting, or by ova placed
beneath the skin; for, when one is allowed to feed freely on the hand,
it is seen to insert the middle prong of three portions,
into which the proboscis divides, somewhat deeply into the true skin;
it then draws it out a little way, and it assumes a crimson color
as the mandibles come into brisk operation. The previously shrunken belly
swells out, and, if left undisturbed, the fly quietly departs
when it is full. A slight itching irritation follows, but not more
than in the bite of a mosquito. In the ox this same bite produces no more
immediate effects than in man. It does not startle him as the gad-fly does;
but a few days afterward the following symptoms supervene:
the eye and nose begin to run, the coat stares as if the animal were cold,
a swelling appears under the jaw, and sometimes at the navel;
and, though the animal continues to graze, emaciation commences,
accompanied with a peculiar flaccidity of the muscles,
and this proceeds unchecked until, perhaps months afterward,
purging comes on, and the animal, no longer able to graze,
perishes in a state of extreme exhaustion. Those which are in good condition
often perish soon after the bite is inflicted with staggering and blindness,
as if the brain were affected by it. Sudden changes of temperature
produced by falls of rain seem to hasten the progress of the complaint;
but, in general, the emaciation goes on uninterruptedly for months,
and, do what we will, the poor animals perish miserably.
When opened, the cellular tissue on the surface of the body beneath the skin
is seen to be injected with air, as if a quantity of soap-bubbles were
scattered over it, or a dishonest, awkward butcher had been trying to make it
look fat. The fat is of a greenish-yellow color and of an oily consistence.
All the muscles are flabby, and the heart often so soft that the fingers
may be made to meet through it. The lungs and liver partake of the disease.
The stomach and bowels are pale and empty, and the gall-bladder is distended
with bile.
These symptoms seem to indicate what is probably the case,
a poison in the blood, the germ of which enters when the proboscis
is inserted to draw blood. The poison-germ, contained in a bulb
at the root of the proboscis, seems capable, although very minute in quantity,
of reproducing itself, for the blood after death by tsetse
is very small in quantity, and scarcely stains the hands in dissection.
I shall have by-and-by to mention another insect, which by the same operation
produces in the human subject both vomiting and purging.
The mule, ass, and goat enjoy the same immunity from the tsetse
as man and the game. Many large tribes on the Zambesi can keep
no domestic animals except the goat, in consequence of the scourge
existing in their country. Our children were frequently bitten,
yet suffered no harm; and we saw around us numbers of zebras,
buffaloes, pigs, pallahs and other antelopes, feeding quietly
in the very habitat of the tsetse, yet as undisturbed by its bite as oxen are
when they first receive the fatal poison. There is not so much difference
in the natures of the horse and zebra, the buffalo and ox,
the sheep and antelope, as to afford any satisfactory explanation
of the phenomenon. Is a man not as much a domestic animal as a dog?
The curious feature in the case, that dogs perish though fed on milk,
whereas the calves escape so long as they continue sucking,
made us imagine that the mischief might be produced by some plant
in the locality, and not by tsetse; but Major Vardon, of the Madras Army,
settled that point by riding a horse up to a small hill infested by the insect
without allowing him time to graze, and, though he only remained long enough
to take a view of the country and catch some specimens of tsetse
on the animal, in ten days afterward the horse was dead.
The well-known disgust which the tsetse shows to animal excreta,
as exhibited when a village is placed in its habitat,
has been observed and turned to account by some of the doctors.
They mix droppings of animals, human milk, and some medicines together,
and smear the animals that are about to pass through a tsetse district;
but this, though it proves a preventive at the time, is not permanent.
There is no cure yet known for the disease. A careless herdsman
allowing a large number of cattle to wander into a tsetse district
loses all except the calves; and Sebituane once lost
nearly the entire cattle of his tribe, very many thousands, by unwittingly
coming under its influence. Inoculation does not insure immunity,
as animals which have been slightly bitten in one year may perish
by a greater number of bites in the next; but it is probable
that with the increase of guns the game will perish, as has happened
in the south, and the tsetse, deprived of food, may become extinct
simultaneously with the larger animals.
The Makololo whom we met on the Chobe were delighted to see us;
and as their chief Sebituane was about twenty miles down the river,
Mr. Oswell and I proceeded in canoes to his temporary residence.
He had come from the Barotse town of Naliele down to Sesheke
as soon as he heard of white men being in search of him,
and now came one hundred miles more to bid us welcome into his country.
He was upon an island, with all his principal men around him,
and engaged in singing when we arrived. It was more like church music
than the sing-song ee ee ee, ae ae ae, of the Bechuanas of the south,
and they continued the tune for some seconds after we approached.
We informed him of the difficulties we had encountered, and how glad we were
that they were all at an end by at last reaching his presence.
He signified his own joy, and added, "Your cattle are all bitten
by the tsetse, and will certainly die; but never mind, I have oxen,
and will give you as many as you need." We, in our ignorance, then thought
that as so few tsetse had bitten them no great mischief would follow.
He then presented us with an ox and a jar of honey as food, and handed us over
to the care of Mahale, who had headed the party to Kolobeng,
and would now fain appropriate to himself the whole credit of our coming.
Prepared skins of oxen, as soft as cloth, were given to cover us
through the night; and, as nothing could be returned to this chief,
Mahale became the owner of them. Long before it was day Sebituane came,
and sitting down by the fire, which was lighted for our benefit
behind the hedge where we lay, he narrated the difficulties
he had himself experienced, when a young man, in crossing that same desert
which we had mastered long afterward. As he has been most remarkable
in his career, and was unquestionably the greatest man in all that country,
a short sketch of his life may prove interesting to the reader.
Sebituane was about forty-five years of age; of a tall and wiry form,
an olive or coffee-and-milk color, and slightly bald; in manner
cool and collected, and more frank in his answers than any other chief
I ever met. He was the greatest warrior ever heard of beyond the colony;
for, unlike Mosilikatse, Dingaan, and others, he always
led his men into battle himself. When he saw the enemy,
he felt the edge of his battle-axe, and said, "Aha! it is sharp,
and whoever turns his back on the enemy will feel its edge."
So fleet of foot was he, that all his people knew there was no escape
for the coward, as any such would be cut down without mercy.
In some instances of skulking he allowed the individual to return home;
then calling him, he would say, "Ah! you prefer dying at home
to dying in the field, do you? You shall have your desire."
This was the signal for his immediate execution.
He came from the country near the sources of the Likwa and Namagari rivers
in the south, so we met him eight hundred or nine hundred miles
from his birth-place. He was not the son of a chief, though related closely
to the reigning family of the Basutu; and when, in an attack by Sikonyele,
the tribe was driven out of one part, Sebituane was one in that
immense horde of savages driven back by the Griquas from Kuruman in 1824.*
He then fled to the north with an insignificant party of men and cattle.
At Melita the Bangwaketse collected the Bakwains, Bakatla, and Bahurutse,
to "eat them up". Placing his men in front, and the women
behind the cattle, he routed the whole of his enemies at one blow.
Having thus conquered Makabe, the chief of the Bangwaketse,
he took immediate possession of his town and all his goods.
--
* See an account of this affair in Moffat's "Missionary Enterprise in Africa".
--
Sebituane subsequently settled at the place called Litubaruba,
where Sechele now dwells, and his people suffered severely
in one of those unrecorded attacks by white men, in which murder is committed
and materials laid up in the conscience for a future judgment.
A great variety of fortune followed him in the northern part
of the Bechuana country; twice he lost all his cattle
by the attacks of the Matabele, but always kept his people together,
and retook more than he lost. He then crossed the Desert
by nearly the same path that we did. He had captured a guide,
and, as it was necessary to travel by night in order to reach water,
the guide took advantage of this and gave him the slip.
After marching till morning, and going as they thought right,
they found themselves on the trail of the day before.
Many of his cattle burst away from him in the phrensy of thirst,
and rushed back to Serotli, then a large piece of water,
and to Mashue and Lopepe, the habitations of their original owners.
He stocked himself again among the Batletli, on Lake Kumadau,
whose herds were of the large-horned species of cattle.*
Conquering all around the lake, he heard of white men
living at the west coast; and, haunted by what seems to have been
the dream of his whole life, a desire to have intercourse with the white man,
he passed away to the southwest, into the parts opened up lately
by Messrs. Galton and Andersson. There, suffering intensely from thirst,
he and his party came to a small well. He decided that the men,
not the cattle, should drink it, the former being of most value,
as they could fight for more should these be lost. In the morning
they found the cattle had escaped to the Damaras.
--
* We found the Batauana in possession of this breed when we discovered
Lake Ngami. One of these horns, brought to England by Major Vardon,
will hold no less than twenty-one imperial pints of water; and a pair,
brought by Mr. Oswell, and now in the possession of Colonel Steele,
measures from tip to tip eight and a half feet.
--
Returning to the north poorer than he started, he ascended the Teoughe
to the hill Sorila, and crossed over a swampy country to the eastward.
Pursuing his course onward to the low-lying basin of the Leeambye,
he saw that it presented no attraction to a pastoral tribe like his,
so he moved down that river among the Bashubia and Batoka,
who were then living in all their glory. His narrative resembled closely
the "Commentaries of Caesar", and the history of the British in India.
He was always forced to attack the different tribes, and to this day
his men justify every step he took as perfectly just and right.
The Batoka lived on large islands in the Leeambye or Zambesi,
and, feeling perfectly secure in their fastnesses, often allured
fugitive or wandering tribes on to uninhabited islets
on pretense of ferrying them across, and there left them to perish
for the sake of their goods. Sekomi, the chief of the Bamangwato,
was, when a child, in danger of meeting this fate; but a man still living
had compassion on him, and enabled his mother to escape with him by night.
The river is so large that the sharpest eye can not tell the difference
between an island and the bend of the opposite bank; but Sebituane,
with his usual foresight, requested the island chief who ferried him across
to take his seat in the canoe with him, and detained him by his side
till all his people and cattle were safely landed. The whole Batoka country
was then densely peopled, and they had a curious taste
for ornamenting their villages with the skulls of strangers.
When Sebituane appeared near the great falls, an immense army collected
to make trophies of the Makololo skulls; but, instead of succeeding in this,
they gave him a good excuse for conquering them, and capturing so many cattle
that his people were quite incapable of taking any note
of the sheep and goats. He overran all the high lands toward the Kafue,
and settled in what is called a pastoral country, of gently undulating plains,
covered with short grass and but little forest. The Makololo have never lost
their love for this fine, healthy region.
But the Matebele, a Caffre or Zulu tribe, under Mosilikatse,
crossed the Zambesi, and, attacking Sebituane in this choice spot,
captured his cattle and women. Rallying his men, he followed
and recaptured the whole. A fresh attack was also repulsed,
and Sebituane thought of going farther down the Zambesi,
to the country of the white men. He had an idea, whence imbibed
I never could learn, that if he had a cannon he might live in peace.
He had led a life of war, yet no one apparently desired peace
more than he did. A prophet induced him to turn his face again
to the westward. This man, by name Tlapane, was called a "senoga" --
one who holds intercourse with the gods. He probably had a touch of insanity,
for he was in the habit of retiring no one knew whither,
but perhaps into some cave, to remain in a hypnotic or mesmeric state
until the moon was full. Then, returning to the tribe quite emaciated,
he excited himself, as others do who pretend to the prophetic AFFLATUS,
until he was in a state of ecstasy. These pretended prophets
commence their operations by violent action of the voluntary muscles.
Stamping, leaping, and shouting in a peculiarly violent manner,
or beating the ground with a club, they induce a kind of fit,
and while in it pretend that their utterances are unknown to themselves.
Tlapane, pointing eastward, said, "There, Sebituane, I behold a fire:
shun it; it is a fire which may scorch thee. The gods say, go not thither."
Then, turning to the west, he said, "I see a city and a nation of black men --
men of the water; their cattle are red; thine own tribe, Sebituane,
is perishing, and will be all consumed; thou wilt govern black men,
and, when thy warriors have captured red cattle, let not the owners be killed;
they are thy future tribe -- they are thy city; let them be spared
to cause thee to build. And thou, Ramosinii, thy village
will perish utterly. If Mokari removes from that village
he will perish first, and thou, Ramosinii, wilt be the last to die."
Concerning himself he added, "The gods have caused other men to drink water,
but to me they have given bitter water of the chukuru (rhinoceros).
They call me away myself. I can not stay much longer."
This vaticination, which loses much in the translation, I have given
rather fully, as it shows an observant mind. The policy recommended was wise,
and the deaths of the "senoga" and of the two men he had named,
added to the destruction of their village, having all happened soon after,
it is not wonderful that Sebituane followed implicitly the warning voice.
The fire pointed to was evidently the Portuguese fire-arms,
of which he must have heard. The black men referred to were the Barotse,
or, as they term themselves, Baloiana; and Sebituane spared their chiefs,
even though they attacked him first. He had ascended the Barotse valley,
but was pursued by the Matebele, as Mosilikatse never could forgive
his former defeats. They came up the river in a very large body.
Sebituane placed some goats on one of the large islands of the Zambesi
as a bait to the warriors, and some men in canoes to co-operate
in the manoeuvre. When they were all ferried over to the island,
the canoes were removed, and the Matebele found themselves completely
in a trap, being perfectly unable to swim. They subsisted for some time
on the roots of grass after the goats were eaten, but gradually became
so emaciated that, when the Makololo landed, they had only to perform
the part of executioners on the adults, and to adopt the rest
into their own tribe. Afterward Mosilikatse was goaded on by his warriors
to revenge this loss; so he sent an immense army, carrying canoes with them,
in order that no such mishap might occur again. Sebituane had by this time
incorporated the Barotse, and taught his young men to manage canoes;
so he went from island to island, and watched the Matebele on the main land
so closely that they could not use their canoes to cross the river any where
without parting their forces. At last all the Makololo and their cattle
were collected on the island of Loyelo, and lay all around, keeping watch
night and day over the enemy. After some time spent in this way,
Sebituane went in a canoe toward them, and, addressing them by an interpreter,
asked why they wished to kill him; he had never attacked them,
never harmed their chief: "Au!" he continued, "the guilt is on your side."
The Matebele made no reply; but the Makololo next day saw
the canoes they had carried so far lying smashed, and the owners gone.
They returned toward their own country, and fever, famine, and the Batoka
completed their destruction; only five men returned to Mosilikatse.
Sebituane had now not only conquered all the black tribes
over an immense tract of country, but had made himself dreaded even by
the terrible Mosilikatse. He never could trust this ferocious chief, however;
and, as the Batoka on the islands had been guilty of ferrying his enemies
across the Zambesi, he made a rapid descent upon them, and swept them all
out of their island fastnesses. He thus unwittingly performed
a good service to the country by completely breaking down the old system
which prevented trade from penetrating into the great central valley.
Of the chiefs who escaped, he said, "They love Mosilikatse,
let them live with him: the Zambesi is my line of defense;"
and men were placed all along it as sentinels. When he heard of our wish
to visit him, he did all he could to assist our approach.
Sechele, Sekomi, and Lechulatebe owed their lives to his clemency;
and the latter might have paid dearly for his obstructiveness.
Sebituane knew every thing that happened in the country, for he had
the art of gaining the affections both of his own people and of strangers.
When a party of poor men came to his town to sell their hoes or skins,
no matter how ungainly they might be, he soon knew them all.
A company of these indigent strangers, sitting far apart
from the Makololo gentlemen around the chief, would be surprised
to see him come alone to them, and, sitting down, inquire if they were hungry.
He would order an attendant to bring meal, milk, and honey, and, mixing them
in their sight, in order to remove any suspicion from their minds,
make them feast, perhaps for the first time in their lives, on a lordly dish.
Delighted beyond measure with his affability and liberality,
they felt their hearts warm toward him, and gave him all the information
in their power; and as he never allowed a party of strangers to go away
without giving every one of them, servants and all, a present,
his praises were sounded far and wide. "He has a heart! he is wise!"
were the usual expressions we heard before we saw him.
He was much pleased with the proof of confidence we had shown
in bringing our children, and promised to take us to see his country,
so that we might choose a part in which to locate ourselves. Our plan was,
that I should remain in the pursuit of my objects as a missionary,
while Mr. Oswell explored the Zambesi to the east. Poor Sebituane, however,
just after realizing what he had so long ardently desired,
fell sick of inflammation of the lungs, which originated in and extended from
an old wound got at Melita. I saw his danger, but, being a stranger,
I feared to treat him medically, lest, in the event of his death,
I should be blamed by his people. I mentioned this to one of his doctors,
who said, "Your fear is prudent and wise; this people would blame you."
He had been cured of this complaint, during the year before,
by the Barotse making a large number of free incisions in the chest.
The Makololo doctors, on the other hand, now scarcely cut the skin.
On the Sunday afternoon in which he died, when our usual religious service
was over, I visited him with my little boy Robert. "Come near,"
said Sebituane, "and see if I am any longer a man. I am done."
He was thus sensible of the dangerous nature of his disease, so I ventured
to assent, and added a single sentence regarding hope after death.
"Why do you speak of death?" said one of a relay of fresh doctors;
"Sebituane will never die." If I had persisted, the impression
would have been produced that by speaking about it I wished him to die.
After sitting with him some time, and commending him to the mercy of God,
I rose to depart, when the dying chieftain, raising himself up a little
from his prone position, called a servant, and said, "Take Robert to Maunku
(one of his wives), and tell her to give him some milk."
These were the last words of Sebituane.
We were not informed of his death until the next day.
The burial of a Bechuana chief takes place in his cattle-pen,
and all the cattle are driven for an hour or two around and over the grave,
so that it may be quite obliterated. We went and spoke to the people,
advising them to keep together and support the heir. They took this kindly;
and in turn told us not to be alarmed, for they would not think
of ascribing the death of their chief to us; that Sebituane had just gone
the way of his fathers; and though the father had gone, he had left children,
and they hoped that we would be as friendly to his children
as we intended to have been to himself.
He was decidedly the best specimen of a native chief I ever met.
I never felt so much grieved by the loss of a black man before;
and it was impossible not to follow him in thought into the world of which
he had just heard before he was called away, and to realize
somewhat of the feelings of those who pray for the dead.
The deep, dark question of what is to become of such as he,
must, however, be left where we find it, believing that, assuredly,
the "Judge of all the earth will do right."
At Sebituane's death the chieftainship devolved, as her father intended,
on a daughter named Ma-mochisane. He had promised to show us his country
and to select a suitable locality for our residence. We had now
to look to the daughter, who was living twelve days to the north, at Naliele.
We were obliged, therefore, to remain until a message came from her;
and when it did, she gave us perfect liberty to visit any part of the country
we chose. Mr. Oswell and I then proceeded one hundred and thirty miles
to the northeast, to Sesheke; and in the end of June, 1851, we were rewarded
by the discovery of the Zambesi, in the centre of the continent.
This was a most important point, for that river was not previously known
to exist there at all. The Portuguese maps all represent it
as rising far to the east of where we now were; and if ever any thing
like a chain of trading stations had existed across the country between
the latitudes 12 Deg. and 18 Deg. south, this magnificent portion of the river
must have been known before. We saw it at the end of the dry season,
at the time when the river is about at its lowest, and yet there was
a breadth of from three hundred to six hundred yards of deep flowing water.
Mr. Oswell said he had never seen such a fine river, even in India.
At the period of its annual inundation it rises fully twenty feet
in perpendicular height, and floods fifteen or twenty miles of lands
adjacent to its banks.
The country over which we had traveled from the Chobe was perfectly flat,
except where there were large ant-hills, or the remains of former ones,
which had left mounds a few feet high. These are generally
covered with wild date-trees and palmyras, and in some parts
there are forests of mimosae and mopane. Occasionally the country
between the Chobe and Zambesi is flooded, and there are
large patches of swamps lying near the Chobe or on its banks.
The Makololo were living among these swamps for the sake of the protection
the deep reedy rivers afforded them against their enemies.
Now, in reference to a suitable locality for a settlement for myself,
I could not conscientiously ask them to abandon their defenses
for my convenience alone. The healthy districts were defenseless,
and the safe localities were so deleterious to human life,
that the original Basutos had nearly all been cut off by the fever;
I therefore feared to subject my family to the scourge.
As we were the very first white men the inhabitants had ever seen,
we were visited by prodigious numbers. Among the first who came to see us
was a gentleman who appeared in a gaudy dressing-gown of printed calico.
Many of the Makololo, besides, had garments of blue, green, and red baize,
and also of printed cottons; on inquiry, we learned that these
had been purchased, in exchange for boys, from a tribe called Mambari,
which is situated near Bihe. This tribe began the slave-trade
with Sebituane only in 1850, and but for the unwillingness of Lechulatebe
to allow us to pass, we should have been with Sebituane in time to have
prevented it from commencing at all. The Mambari visited in ancient times
the chief of the Barotse, whom Sebituane conquered, and he refused
to allow any one to sell a child. They never came back again till 1850;
and as they had a number of old Portuguese guns marked "Legitimo de Braga",
which Sebituane thought would be excellent in any future invasion of Matebele,
he offered to purchase them with cattle or ivory, but the Mambari
refused every thing except boys about fourteen years of age.
The Makololo declare they never heard of people being bought and sold
till then, and disliked it, but the desire to possess the guns prevailed,
and eight old guns were exchanged for as many boys; these were not
their own children, but captives of the black races they had conquered.
I have never known in Africa an instance of a parent selling
his own offspring. The Makololo were afterward incited to make a foray
against some tribes to the eastward; the Mambari bargaining
to use their guns in the attack for the captives they might take,
and the Makololo were to have all the cattle. They went off
with at least two hundred slaves that year. During this foray the Makololo
met some Arabs from Zanzibar, who presented them with three English muskets,
and in return received about thirty of their captives.
In talking with my companions over these matters, the idea was suggested that,
if the slave-market were supplied with articles of European manufacture
by legitimate commerce, the trade in slaves would become impossible.
It seemed more feasible to give the goods, for which the people now part
with their servants, in exchange for ivory and other products of the country,
and thus prevent the trade at the beginning, than to try to put a stop to it
at any of the subsequent steps. This could only be effected
by establishing a highway from the coast into the centre of the country.
As there was no hope of the Boers allowing the peaceable instruction
of the natives at Kolobeng, I at once resolved to save my family
from exposure to this unhealthy region by sending them to England,
and to return alone, with a view to exploring the country
in search of a healthy district that might prove a centre of civilization,
and open up the interior by a path to either the east or west coast.
This resolution led me down to the Cape in April, 1852,
being the first time during eleven years that I had visited
the scenes of civilization. Our route to Cape Town led us to pass
through the centre of the colony during the twentieth month of a Caffre war;
and if those who periodically pay enormous sums for these inglorious affairs
wish to know how our little unprotected party could quietly travel
through the heart of the colony to the capital with as little
sense or sign of danger as if we had been in England,
they must engage a "`Times' Special Correspondent" for the next outbreak
to explain where the money goes, and who have been benefited
by the blood and treasure expended.
Having placed my family on board a homeward-bound ship, and promised
to rejoin them in two years, we parted, for, as it subsequently proved,
nearly five years. The Directors of the London Missionary Society
signified their cordial approval of my project by leaving the matter
entirely to my own discretion; and I have much pleasure in acknowledging
my obligations to the gentlemen composing that body for always acting
in an enlightened spirit, and with as much liberality
as their constitution would allow.
I have the like pleasure in confessing my thankfulness to the Astronomer Royal
at the Cape, Thomas Maclear, Esq., for enabling me to recall
the little astronomical knowledge which constant manual labor
and the engrossing nature of missionary duties had effaced from my memory,
and in adding much that I did not know before. The promise he made
on parting, that he would examine and correct all my observations,
had more effect in making me persevere in overcoming the difficulties
of an unassisted solitary observer than any thing else; so whatever credit
may be attached to the geographical positions laid down in my route
must be attributed to the voluntary aid of the excellent and laborious
astronomer of the Cape observatory.
Having given the reader as rapid a sketch as possible of events
which attracted notice between 1840 and 1852, I now proceed to narrate
the incidents of the last and longest journey of all, performed in 1852-6.
Chapter 5.
Start in June, 1852, on the last and longest Journey from Cape Town --
Companions -- Wagon-traveling -- Physical Divisions of Africa --
The Eastern, Central, and Western Zones -- The Kalahari Desert --
Its Vegetation -- Increasing Value of the Interior for Colonization --
Our Route -- Dutch Boers -- Their Habits -- Sterile Appearance
of the District -- Failure of Grass -- Succeeded by other Plants --
Vines -- Animals -- The Boers as Farmers -- Migration of Springbucks --
Wariness of Animals -- The Orange River -- Territory of
the Griquas and Bechuanas -- The Griquas -- The Chief Waterboer --
His wise and energetic Government -- His Fidelity -- Ill-considered Measures
of the Colonial Government in regard to Supplies of Gunpowder --
Success of the Missionaries among the Griquas and Bechuanas --
Manifest Improvement of the native Character -- Dress of the Natives --
A full-dress Costume -- A Native's Description of the Natives --
Articles of Commerce in the Country of the Bechuanas --
Their Unwillingness to learn, and Readiness to criticise.
Having sent my family home to England, I started in the beginning of June,
1852, on my last journey from Cape Town. This journey extended
from the southern extremity of the continent to St. Paul de Loando,
the capital of Angola, on the west coast, and thence across
South Central Africa in an oblique direction to Kilimane (Quilimane)
in Eastern Africa. I proceeded in the usual conveyance of the country,
the heavy, lumbering Cape wagon drawn by ten oxen, and was accompanied
by two Christian Bechuanas from Kuruman -- than whom I never saw
better servants any where -- by two Bakwain men, and two young girls,
who, having come as nurses with our children to the Cape,
were returning to their home at Kolobeng. Wagon-traveling in Africa
has been so often described that I need say no more than that
it is a prolonged system of picnicking, excellent for the health,
and agreeable to those who are not over-fastidious about trifles,
and who delight in being in the open air.
Our route to the north lay near the centre of the cone-shaped mass of land
which constitutes the promontory of the Cape. If we suppose this cone
to be divided into three zones or longitudinal bands, we find each presenting
distinct peculiarities of climate, physical appearance and population.
These are more marked beyond than within the colony. At some points
one district seems to be continued in and to merge into the other,
but the general dissimilarity warrants the division, as an aid to memory.
The eastern zone is often furnished with mountains, well wooded
with evergreen succulent trees, on which neither fire nor droughts can have
the smallest effect (`Strelitzia', `Zamia horrida', `Portulacaria afra',
`Schotia speciosa', `Euphorbias', and `Aloes arborescens');
and its seaboard gorges are clad with gigantic timber.
It is also comparatively well watered with streams and flowing rivers.
The annual supply of rain is considerable, and the inhabitants
(Caffres or Zulus) are tall, muscular, and well made;
they are shrewd, energetic, and brave; altogether they merit the character
given them by military authorities, of being "magnificent savages".
Their splendid physical development and form of skull show that,
but for the black skin and woolly hair, they would take rank
among the foremost Europeans.
The next division, that which embraces the centre of the continent,
can scarcely be called hilly, for what hills there are are very low.
It consists for the most part of extensive, slightly undulating plains.
There are no lofty mountains, but few springs, and still fewer
flowing streams. Rain is far from abundant, and droughts
may be expected every few years. Without artificial irrigation
no European grain can be raised, and the inhabitants (Bechuanas),
though evidently of the same stock, originally, with those already mentioned,
and closely resembling them in being an agricultural as well as
a pastoral people, are a comparatively timid race, and inferior to the Caffres
in physical development.
The western division is still more level than the middle one, being rugged
only near the coast. It includes the great plain called the Kalahari Desert,
which is remarkable for little water and very considerable vegetation.
The reason, probably, why so little rain falls on this extensive plain
is that the prevailing winds of most of the interior country are easterly,
with a little southing. The moisture taken up by the atmosphere
from the Indian Ocean is deposited on the eastern hilly slope;
and when the moving mass of air reaches its greatest elevation, it is then
on the verge of the great valley, or, as in the case of the Kalahari,
the great heated inland plains; there, meeting with the rarefied air
of that hot, dry surface, the ascending heat gives it greater capacity
for retaining all its remaining humidity, and few showers can be given
to the middle and western lands in consequence of the increased
hygrometric power.
This is the same phenomenon, on a gigantic scale, as that
which takes place on Table Mountain, at the Cape, in what is called
the spreading of the "table-cloth". The southeast wind causes a mass of air,
equal to the diameter of the mountain, suddenly to ascend
at least three thousand feet; the dilatation produced by altitude,
with its attendant cold, causes the immediate formation of a cloud
on the summit; the water in the atmosphere becomes visible;
successive masses of gliding-up and passing-over air cause the continual
formation of clouds, but the top of the vapory mass, or "table-cloth",
is level, and seemingly motionless; on the lee side, however,
the thick volumes of vapor curl over and descend, but when they reach
the point below, where greater density and higher temperature
impart enlarged capacity for carrying water, they entirely disappear.
Now if, instead of a hollow on the lee side of Table Mountain,
we had an elevated heated plain, the clouds which curl over that side,
and disappear as they do at present when a "southeaster" is blowing,
might deposit some moisture on the windward ascent and top;
but the heat would then impart the increased capacity
the air now receives at the lower level in its descent to leeward,
and, instead of an extended country with a flora of the `Disa grandiflora',
`gladiolus', `rushes', and `lichens', which now appear on Table Mountain,
we should have only the hardy vegetation of the Kalahari.
Why there should be so much vegetation on the Kalahari may be explained
by the geological formation of the country. There is a rim or fringe
of ancient rocks round a great central valley, which, dipping inward,
form a basin, the bottom of which is composed of the oldest silurian rocks.
This basin has been burst through and filled up in many parts
by eruptive traps and breccias, which often bear in their substances
angular fragments of the more ancient rocks, as shown in the fossils
they contain. Now, though large areas have been so dislocated
that but little trace of the original valley formation appears,
it is highly probable that the basin shape prevails over
large tracts of the country; and as the strata on the slopes,
where most of the rain falls, dip in toward the centre, they probably
guide water beneath the plains but ill supplied with moisture from the clouds.
The phenomenon of stagnant fountains becoming by a new and deeper outlet
never-failing streams may be confirmatory of the view that water is conveyed
from the sides of the country into the bottom of the central valley;
and it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that the wonderful river system
in the north, which, if native information be correct, causes a considerable
increase of water in the springs called Matlomagan-yana (the Links),
extends its fertilizing influence beneath the plains of the Kalahari.
The peculiar formation of the country may explain why there is
such a difference in the vegetation between the 20th and 30th
parallels of latitude in South Africa and the same latitudes
in Central Australia. The want of vegetation is as true
of some parts too in the centre of South America as of Australia;
and the cause of the difference holds out a probability
for the success of artesian wells in extensive tracts of Africa now unpeopled
solely on account of the want of surface water. We may be allowed
to speculate a little at least on the fact of much greater vegetation,
which, from whatever source it comes, presents for South Africa
prospects of future greatness which we can not hope for
in Central Australia. As the interior districts of the Cape Colony
are daily becoming of higher value, offering to honest industry
a fair remuneration for capital, and having a climate unequaled
in salubrity for consumptive patients, I should unhesitatingly
recommend any farmer at all afraid of that complaint in his family
to try this colony. With the means of education already possessed,
and the onward and upward movement of the Cape population,
he need entertain no apprehensions of his family sinking into barbarism.
The route we at this time followed ran along the middle,
or skirted the western zone before alluded to, until we reached
the latitude of Lake Ngami, where a totally different country begins.
While in the colony, we passed through districts inhabited by
the descendants of Dutch and French refugees who had fled
from religious persecution. Those living near the capital differ but little
from the middle classes in English counties, and are distinguished
by public spirit and general intelligence; while those situated
far from the centres of civilization are less informed,
but are a body of frugal, industrious, and hospitable peasantry.
A most efficient system of public instruction was established
in the time of Governor Sir George Napier, on a plan drawn up
in a great measure by that accomplished philosopher, Sir John Herschel.
The system had to contend with less sectarian rancor than elsewhere;
indeed, until quite recently, that spirit, except in a mild form, was unknown.
The population here described ought not to be confounded with some Boers
who fled from British rule on account of the emancipation of
their Hottentot slaves, and perhaps never would have been so
had not every now and then some Rip Van Winkle started forth at the Cape
to justify in the public prints the deeds of blood and slave-hunting
in the far interior. It is therefore not to be wondered at if the whole race
is confounded and held in low estimation by those who do not know
the real composition of the Cape community.
Population among the Boers increases rapidly; they marry soon,
are seldom sterile, and continue to have children late.
I once met a worthy matron whose husband thought it right to imitate
the conduct of Abraham while Sarah was barren; she evidently agreed
in the propriety of the measure, for she was pleased to hear the children
by a mother of what has been thought an inferior race address her
as their mother. Orphans are never allowed to remain long destitute;
and instances are frequent in which a tender-hearted farmer has adopted
a fatherless child, and when it came of age portioned it as his own.
Two centuries of the South African climate have not had much effect
upon the physical condition of the Boers. They are a shade darker,
or rather ruddier, than Europeans, and are never cadaverous-looking,
as descendants of Europeans are said to be elsewhere.
There is a tendency to the development of steatopyga,
so characteristic of Arabs and other African tribes; and it is probable
that the interior Boers in another century will become in color
what the learned imagine our progenitors, Adam and Eve, to have been.
The parts of the colony through which we passed were of sterile aspect;
and, as the present winter had been preceded by a severe drought,
many farmers had lost two thirds of their stock. The landscape
was uninviting; the hills, destitute of trees, were of a dark brown color,
and the scanty vegetation on the plains made me feel that they deserved
the name of Desert more than the Kalahari. When first taken possession of,
these parts are said to have been covered with a coating of grass,
but that has disappeared with the antelopes which fed upon it,
and a crop of mesembryanthemums and crassulas occupies its place.
It is curious to observe how, in nature, organizations the most dissimilar
are mutually dependent on each other for their perpetuation.
Here the original grasses were dependent for dissemination
on the grass-feeding animals, which scattered the seeds.
When, by the death of the antelopes, no fresh sowing was made,
the African droughts proved too much for this form of vegetation.
But even this contingency was foreseen by the Omniscient One;
for, as we may now observe in the Kalahari Desert, another family of plants,
the mesembryanthemums, stood ready to neutralize the aridity
which must otherwise have followed. This family of plants
possesses seed-vessels which remain firmly shut on their contents
while the soil is hot and dry, and thus preserve the vegetative power intact
during the highest heat of the torrid sun; but when rain falls,
the seed-vessel opens and sheds its contents just when there is
the greatest probability of their vegetating. In other plants
heat and drought cause the seed-vessels to burst and shed their charge.
One of this family is edible (`Mesembryanthemum edule'); another possesses
a tuberous root, which may be eaten raw; and all are furnished with thick,
fleshy leaves, having pores capable of imbibing and retaining moisture
from a very dry atmosphere and soil, so that, if a leaf is broken
during a period of the greatest drought, it shows abundant circulating sap.
The plants of this family are found much farther north,
but the great abundance of the grasses prevents them from making any show.
There, however, they stand ready to fill up any gap which may occur
in the present prevailing vegetation; and should the grasses disappear,
animal life would not necessarily be destroyed, because a reserve supply,
equivalent to a fresh act of creative power, has been provided.
One of this family, `M. turbiniforme', is so colored as to blend in well with
the hue of the soil and stones around it; and a `gryllus' of the same color
feeds on it. In the case of the insect, the peculiar color is given as
compensation for the deficiency of the powers of motion to enable it to elude
the notice of birds. The continuation of the species is here the end in view.
In the case of the plant the same device is adopted for a sort of double end,
viz., perpetuation of the plant by hiding it from animals, with the view
that ultimately its extensive appearance will sustain that race.
As this new vegetation is better adapted for sheep and goats in a dry country
than grass, the Boers supplant the latter by imitating the process
by which graminivorous antelopes have so abundantly disseminated
the seed of grasses. A few wagon-loads of mesembryanthemum plants, in seed,
are brought to a farm covered with a scanty crop of coarse grass,
and placed on a spot to which the sheep have access in the evenings.
As they eat a little every night, the seeds are dropped
over the grazing grounds in this simple way, with a regularity
which could not be matched except at the cost of an immense amount of labor.
The place becomes in the course of a few years a sheep-farm,
as these animals thrive on such herbage. As already mentioned,
some plants of this family are furnished with an additional contrivance
for withstanding droughts, viz., oblong tubers, which, buried deep enough
beneath the soil for complete protection from the scorching sun,
serve as reservoirs of sap and nutriment during those rainless periods
which recur perpetually in even the most favored spots of Africa. I have
adverted to this peculiarity as often seen in the vegetation of the Desert;
and, though rather out of place, it may be well -- while noticing
a clever imitation of one process in nature by the Cape farmers --
to suggest another for their consideration. The country beyond
south lat. 18 Deg. abounds in three varieties of grape-bearing vines,
and one of these is furnished with oblong tubers every three or four inches
along the horizontal root. They resemble closely those of the asparagus.
This increase of power to withstand the effects of climate
might prove of value in the more arid parts of the Cape colony,
grapes being well known to be an excellent restorative in the debility
produced by heat: by ingrafting, or by some of those curious manipulations
which we read of in books on gardening, a variety might be secured
better adapted to the country than the foreign vines at present cultivated.
The Americans find that some of their native vines yield wines superior
to those made from the very best imported vines from France and Portugal.
What a boon a vine of the sort contemplated would have been
to a Rhenish missionary I met at a part in the west of the colony
called Ebenezer, whose children had never seen flowers, though old enough
to talk about them!
The slow pace at which we wound our way through the colony
made almost any subject interesting. The attention is attracted
to the names of different places, because they indicate
the former existence of buffaloes, elands, and elephants,
which are now to be found only hundreds of miles beyond.
A few blesbucks (`Antilope pygarga'), gnus, bluebucks (`A. cerulea'),
steinbucks, and the ostrich (`Struthio camelus'), continue, like the Bushmen,
to maintain a precarious existence when all the rest are gone.
The elephant, the most sagacious, flees the sound of fire-arms first;
the gnu and ostrich, the most wary and the most stupid, last.
The first emigrants found the Hottentots in possession of
prodigious herds of fine cattle, but no horses, asses, or camels.
The original cattle, which may still be seen in some parts of the frontier,
must have been brought south from the north-northeast, for from this point
the natives universally ascribe their original migration.
They brought cattle, sheep, goats, and dogs; why not the horse,
the delight of savage hordes? Horses thrive well in the Cape Colony
when imported. Naturalists point out certain mountain ranges
as limiting the habitat of certain classes of animals;
but there is no Cordillera in Africa to answer that purpose, there being
no visible barrier between the northeastern Arabs and the Hottentot tribes
to prevent the different hordes, as they felt their way southward,
from indulging their taste for the possession of this noble animal.
I am here led to notice an invisible barrier, more insurmountable
than mountain ranges, but which is not opposed to the southern progress
of cattle, goats, and sheep. The tsetse would prove a barrier
only until its well-defined habitat was known, but the disease
passing under the term of horse-sickness (peripneumonia) exists
in such virulence over nearly seven degrees of latitude that no precaution
would be sufficient to save these animals. The horse is so liable
to this disease, that only by great care in stabling can he be kept any where
between 20 Deg. and 27 Deg. S. during the time between December and April.
The winter, beginning in the latter month, is the only period
in which Englishmen can hunt on horseback, and they are in danger
of losing all their studs some months before December. To this disease
the horse is especially exposed, and it is almost always fatal.
One attack, however, seems to secure immunity from a second. Cattle, too,
are subject to it, but only at intervals of a few, sometimes many years;
but it never makes a clean sweep of the whole cattle of a village,
as it would do of a troop of fifty horses. This barrier, then,
seems to explain the absence of the horse among the Hottentots,
though it is not opposed to the southern migration of cattle,
sheep, and goats.
When the flesh of animals that have died of this disease is eaten,
it causes a malignant carbuncle, which, when it appears over
any important organ, proves rapidly fatal. It is more especially dangerous
over the pit of the stomach. The effects of the poison
have been experienced by missionaries who had eaten properly cooked food,
the flesh of sheep really but not visibly affected by the disease.
The virus in the flesh of the animal is destroyed neither by boiling
nor roasting. This fact, of which we have had innumerable examples,
shows the superiority of experiments on a large scale
to those of acute and able physiologists and chemists in the laboratory,
for a well known physician of Paris, after careful investigation,
considered that the virus in such cases was completely neutralized by boiling.
This disease attacks wild animals too. During our residence at Chonuan
great numbers of tolos, or koodoos, were attracted to the gardens
of the Bakwains, abandoned at the usual period of harvest because
there was no prospect of the corn (`Holcus sorghum') bearing that year.
The koodoo is remarkably fond of the green stalks of this kind of millet.
Free feeding produced that state of fatness favorable for
the development of this disease, and no fewer than twenty-five died
on the hill opposite our house. Great numbers of gnus and zebras perished
from the same cause, but the mortality produced no sensible diminution
in the numbers of the game, any more than the deaths of many of the Bakwains
who persisted, in spite of every remonstrance, in eating the dead meat,
caused any sensible decrease in the strength of the tribe.
The farms of the Boers consist generally of a small patch of cultivated land
in the midst of some miles of pasturage. They are thus less an agricultural
than a pastoral people. Each farm must have its fountain;
and where no such supply of water exists, the government lands
are unsalable. An acre in England is thus generally more valuable
than a square mile in Africa. But the country is prosperous,
and capable of great improvement. The industry of the Boers augurs well
for the future formation of dams and tanks, and for the greater fruitfulness
that would certainly follow.
As cattle and sheep farmers the colonists are very successful.
Larger and larger quantities of wool are produced annually,
and the value of colonial farms increases year by year.
But the system requires that with the increase of the population
there should be an extension of territory. Wide as the country is,
and thinly inhabited, the farmers feel it to be too limited,
and they are gradually spreading to the north. This movement proves
prejudicial to the country behind, for labor, which would be directed
to the improvement of the colony, is withdrawn and expended in a mode of life
little adapted to the exercise of industrial habits. That, however,
does not much concern the rest of mankind. Nor does it seem much of an evil
for men who cultivate the soil to claim a right to appropriate lands
for tillage which other men only hunt over, provided some compensation
for the loss of sustenance be awarded. The original idea of a title
seems to have been that "subduing" or cultivating gave that right.
But this rather Chartist principle must be received with limitations,
for its recognition in England would lead to the seizure of all
our broad ancestral acres by those who are willing to cultivate them.
And, in the case under consideration, the encroachments lead at once
to less land being put under the plow than is subjected to the native hoe,
for it is a fact that the Basutos and Zulus, or Caffres of Natal,
cultivate largely, and undersell our farmers wherever they have
a fair field and no favor.
Before we came to the Orange River we saw the last portion
of a migration of springbucks (`Gazella euchore', or tsepe).
They come from the great Kalahari Desert, and, when first seen after crossing
the colonial boundary, are said often to exceed forty thousand in number.
I can not give an estimate of their numbers, for they appear spread
over a vast expanse of country, and make a quivering motion as they feed,
and move, and toss their graceful horns. They feed chiefly on grass;
and as they come from the north about the time when the grass most abounds,
it can not be want of food that prompts the movement.
Nor is it want of water, for this antelope is one of the most abstemious
in that respect. Their nature prompts them to seek as their favorite haunts
level plains with short grass, where they may be able to watch
the approach of an enemy. The Bakalahari take advantage of this feeling,
and burn off large patches of grass, not only to attract the game
by the new crop when it comes up, but also to form bare spots
for the springbuck to range over.
It is not the springbuck alone that manifests this feeling. When oxen are
taken into a country of high grass, they are much more ready to be startled;
their sense of danger is increased by the increased power of concealment
afforded to an enemy by such cover, and they will often start off in terror
at the ill-defined outlines of each other. The springbuck,
possessing this feeling in an intense degree, and being eminently gregarious,
becomes uneasy as the grass of the Kalahari becomes tall.
The vegetation being more sparse in the more arid south,
naturally induces the different herds to turn in that direction.
As they advance and increase in numbers, the pasturage becomes more scarce;
it is still more so the further they go, until they are at last obliged,
in order to obtain the means of subsistence, to cross the Orange River,
and become the pest of the sheep-farmer in a country which contains
scarcely any of their favorite grassy food. If they light on a field of wheat
in their way, an army of locusts could not make a cleaner sweep of the whole
than they will do. It is questionable whether they ever return,
as they have never been seen as a returning body. Many perish
from want of food, the country to which they have migrated
being unable to support them; the rest become scattered over the colony;
and in such a wide country there is no lack of room for all.
It is probable that, notwithstanding the continued destruction by fire-arms,
they will continue long to hold their place.
On crossing the Orange River we come into independent territory
inhabited by Griquas and Bechuanas. By Griquas is meant
any mixed race sprung from natives and Europeans. Those in question
were of Dutch extraction, through association with Hottentot and Bushwomen.
Half-castes of the first generation consider themselves superior
to those of the second, and all possess in some degree the characteristics
of both parents. They were governed for many years by an elected chief,
named Waterboer, who, by treaty, received a small sum per annum
from the colonial government for the support of schools in his country,
and proved a most efficient guard of our northwest boundary.
Cattle-stealing was totally unknown during the whole period
of this able chief's reign; and he actually drove back, single-handed,
a formidable force of marauding Mantatees that threatened
to invade the colony.* But for that brave Christian man, Waterboer,
there is every human probability that the northwest
would have given the colonists as much trouble as the eastern frontier;
for large numbers among the original Griquas had as little scruple
about robbing farmers of cattle as the Caffres are reputed to have.
On the election of Waterboer to the chieftainship, he distinctly declared
THAT NO MARAUDING SHOULD BE ALLOWED. As the government
of none of these tribes is despotic, some of his principal men,
in spite of this declaration, plundered some villages of Corannas
living to the south of the Orange River. He immediately seized
six of the ringleaders, and, though the step put his own position in jeopardy,
he summoned his council, tried, condemned, and publicly executed
the whole six. This produced an insurrection, and the insurgents
twice attacked his capital, Griqua Town, with the intention of deposing him;
but he bravely defeated both attempts, and from that day forth,
during his long reign of thirty years, not a single plundering expedition
ever left his territory. Having witnessed the deleterious effects
of the introduction of ardent spirits among his people,
he, with characteristic energy, decreed that any Boer or Griqua
bringing brandy into the country should have his property in ardent spirits
confiscated and poured out on the ground. The Griqua chiefs
living farther east were unable to carry this law into effect as he did,
hence the greater facility with which Boers in that direction
got the Griquas to part with their farms.
--
* For an account of this, see Moffat's "Scenes and Labors in South Africa".
--
Ten years after he was firmly established in power he entered into a treaty
with the colonial government, and during the twenty years which followed
not a single charge was ever brought against either him or his people;
on the contrary, his faithful adherence to the stipulated provisions
elicited numerous expressions of approbation from successive governments.
A late governor, however, of whom it is impossible to speak without respect,
in a paroxysm of generalship which might have been good,
had it not been totally inappropriate to the case, set about conciliating
a band of rebellious British subjects (Boers), who murdered
the Honorable Captain Murray, by proclaiming their independence
while still in open rebellion, and not only abrogated the treaty
with the Griquas, but engaged to stop the long-accustomed
supplies of gunpowder for the defense of the frontier,
and even to prevent them from purchasing it for their own defense
by lawful trade.
If it had been necessary to prevent supplies of ammunition
from finding their way into the country, as it probably was,
one might imagine that the exception should not have been made
in favor of either Boers or Caffres, our openly-avowed enemies;
but, nevertheless, the exception was made, and is still continued
in favor of the Boers, while the Bechuanas and Griquas,
our constant friends, are debarred from obtaining a single ounce
for either defense or trade; indeed, such was the state of ignorance
as to the relation of the border tribes with the English, even at Cape Town,
that the magistrates, though willing to aid my researches,
were sorely afraid to allow me to purchase more than ten pounds of gunpowder,
lest the Bechuanas should take it from me by force. As it turned out,
I actually left more than that quantity for upward of two years
in an open box in my wagon at Linyanti.
The lamented Sir George Cathcart, apparently unconscious of what he was doing,
entered into a treaty with the Transvaal Boers, in which articles
were introduced for the free passage of English traders to the north,
and for the entire prohibition of slavery in the free state.
Then passed the "gunpowder ordinance", by which the Bechuanas,
whom alone the Boers dare attempt to enslave, were rendered quite defenseless.
The Boers never attempt to fight with Caffres, nor to settle in Caffreland.
We still continue to observe the treaty. The Boers never did,
and never intended to abide by its provisions; for, immediately on
the proclamation of their independence, a slave-hunt was undertaken
against the Bechuanas of Sechele by four hundred Boers, under Mr. Peit Scholz,
and the plan was adopted which had been cherished in their hearts
ever since the emancipation of the Hottentots. Thus, from unfortunate
ignorance of the country he had to govern, an able and sagacious governor
adopted a policy proper and wise had it been in front of our enemies,
but altogether inappropriate for our friends against whom
it has been applied. Such an error could not have been committed by
a man of local knowledge and experience, such as that noble of colonial birth,
Sir Andries Stockenstrom; and such instances of confounding friend and foe,
in the innocent belief of thereby promoting colonial interests,
will probably lead the Cape community, the chief part of which
by no means feels its interest to lie in the degradation of the native tribes,
to assert the right of choosing their own governors.
This, with colonial representation in the Imperial Parliament,
in addition to the local self-government already so liberally conceded,
would undoubtedly secure the perpetual union of the colony
to the English crown.
Many hundreds of both Griquas and Bechuanas have become Christians
and partially civilized through the teaching of English missionaries.
My first impressions of the progress made were that the accounts
of the effects of the Gospel among them had been too highly colored.
I expected a higher degree of Christian simplicity and purity
than exists either among them or among ourselves. I was not anxious
for a deeper insight in detecting shams than others, but I expected character,
such as we imagine the primitive disciples had -- and was disappointed.*
When, however, I passed on to the true heathen in the countries beyond
the sphere of missionary influence, and could compare the people there
with the Christian natives, I came to the conclusion that,
if the question were examined in the most rigidly severe or scientific way,
the change effected by the missionary movement would be considered
unquestionably great.
--
* The popular notion, however, of the primitive Church
is perhaps not very accurate. Those societies especially
which consisted of converted Gentiles -- men who had been accustomed
to the vices and immoralities of heathenism -- were certainly
any thing but pure. In spite of their conversion, some of them carried
the stains and vestiges of their former state with them when they passed
from the temple to the church. If the instructed and civilized Greek
did not all at once rise out of his former self, and understand and realize
the high ideal of his new faith, we should be careful,
in judging of the work of missionaries among savage tribes,
not to apply to their converts tests and standards of too great severity.
If the scoffing Lucian's account of the impostor Peregrinus may be believed,
we find a church probably planted by the apostles manifesting
less intelligence even than modern missionary churches. Peregrinus,
a notoriously wicked man, was elected to the chief place among them,
while Romish priests, backed by the power of France, could not find
a place at all in the mission churches of Tahiti and Madagascar.
--
We can not fairly compare these poor people with ourselves,
who have an atmosphere of Christianity and enlightened public opinion,
the growth of centuries, around us, to influence our deportment;
but let any one from the natural and proper point of view behold
the public morality of Griqua Town, Kuruman, Likatlong, and other villages,
and remember what even London was a century ago, and he must confess
that the Christian mode of treating aborigines is incomparably the best.
The Griquas and Bechuanas were in former times clad much like the Caffres,
if such a word may be used where there is scarcely any clothing at all.
A bunch of leather strings about eighteen inches long hung
from the lady's waist in front, and a prepared skin of a sheep or antelope
covered the shoulders, leaving the breast and abdomen bare:
the men wore a patch of skin, about the size of the crown of one's hat,
which barely served for the purposes of decency, and a mantle
exactly like that of the women. To assist in protecting the pores of the skin
from the influence of the sun by day and of the cold by night,
all smeared themselves with a mixture of fat and ochre;
the head was anointed with pounded blue mica schist mixed with fat;
and the fine particles of shining mica, falling on the body
and on strings of beads and brass rings, were considered as highly ornamental,
and fit for the most fastidious dandy. Now these same people come to church
in decent though poor clothing, and behave with a decorum certainly superior
to what seems to have been the case in the time of Mr. Samuel Pepys in London.
Sunday is well observed, and, even in localities where no missionary lives,
religious meetings are regularly held, and children and adults taught to read
by the more advanced of their own fellow-countrymen; and no one is allowed
to make a profession of faith by baptism unless he knows how to read,
and understands the nature of the Christian religion.
The Bechuana Mission has been so far successful that,
when coming from the interior, we always felt, on reaching Kuruman,
that we had returned to civilized life. But I would not give any one
to understand by this that they are model Christians -- we can not claim
to be model Christians ourselves -- or even in any degree superior
to the members of our country churches. They are more stingy and greedy
than the poor at home; but in many respects the two are exactly alike.
On asking an intelligent chief what he thought of them, he replied,
"You white men have no idea of how wicked we are; we know each other
better than you; some feign belief to ingratiate themselves
with the missionaries; some profess Christianity because they like
the new system, which gives so much more importance to the poor,
and desire that the old system may pass away; and the rest --
a pretty large number -- profess because they are really true believers."
This testimony may be considered as very nearly correct.
There is not much prospect of this country ever producing
much of the materials of commerce except wool. At present
the chief articles of trade are karosses or mantles --
the skins of which they are composed come from the Desert;
next to them, ivory, the quantity of which can not now be great,
inasmuch as the means of shooting elephants is sedulously debarred entrance
into the country. A few skins and horns, and some cattle,
make up the remainder of the exports. English goods, sugar, tea, and coffee
are the articles received in exchange. All the natives of these parts
soon become remarkably fond of coffee. The acme of respectability
among the Bechuanas is the possession of cattle and a wagon.
It is remarkable that, though these latter require frequent repairs,
none of the Bechuanas have ever learned to mend them. Forges and tools
have been at their service, and teachers willing to aid them,
but, beyond putting together a camp-stool, no effort has ever been made
to acquire a knowledge of the trades. They observe most carefully
a missionary at work until they understand whether a tire
is well welded or not, and then pronounce upon its merits with great emphasis,
but there their ambition rests satisfied. It is the same peculiarity
among ourselves which leads us in other matters, such as book-making,
to attain the excellence of fault-finding without the wit to indite a page.
It was in vain I tried to indoctrinate the Bechuanas with the idea
that criticism did not imply any superiority over the workman,
or even equality with him.
Chapter 6.
Kuruman -- Its fine Fountain -- Vegetation of the District --
Remains of ancient Forests -- Vegetable Poison --
The Bible translated by Mr. Moffat -- Capabilities of the Language --
Christianity among the Natives -- The Missionaries should extend
their Labors more beyond the Cape Colony -- Model Christians --
Disgraceful Attack of the Boers on the Bakwains -- Letter from Sechele --
Details of the Attack -- Numbers of School-children carried away
into Slavery -- Destruction of House and Property at Kolobeng --
The Boers vow Vengeance against me -- Consequent Difficulty of getting
Servants to accompany me on my Journey -- Start in November, 1852 --
Meet Sechele on his way to England to obtain Redress from the Queen --
He is unable to proceed beyond the Cape -- Meet Mr. Macabe
on his Return from Lake Ngami -- The hot Wind of the Desert --
Electric State of the Atmosphere -- Flock of Swifts --
Reach Litubaruba -- The Cave Lepelole -- Superstitions regarding it --
Impoverished State of the Bakwains -- Retaliation on the Boers --
Slavery -- Attachment of the Bechuanas to Children --
Hydrophobia unknown -- Diseases of the Bakwains few in number --
Yearly Epidemics -- Hasty Burials -- Ophthalmia -- Native Doctors --
Knowledge of Surgery at a very low Ebb -- Little Attendance given to Women
at their Confinements -- The "Child Medicine" -- Salubrity of the Climate
well adapted for Invalids suffering from pulmonary Complaints.
The permanence of the station called Kuruman depends entirely
on the fine ever-flowing fountain of that name. It comes from
beneath the trap-rock, of which I shall have to speak when describing
the geology of the entire country; and as it usually issues at a temperature
of 72 Deg. Fahr., it probably comes from the old silurian schists,
which formed the bottom of the great primeval valley of the continent.
I could not detect any diminution in the flow of this gushing fountain
during my residence in the country; but when Mr. Moffat first attempted
a settlement here, thirty-five years ago, he made a dam six or seven miles
below the present one, and led out the stream for irrigation,
where not a drop of the fountain-water ever now flows. Other parts,
fourteen miles below the Kuruman gardens, are pointed out as having contained,
within the memory of people now living, hippopotami, and pools sufficient
to drown both men and cattle. This failure of water must be chiefly ascribed
to the general desiccation of the country, but partly also
to the amount of irrigation carried on along both banks of the stream
at the mission station. This latter circumstance would have more weight
were it not coincident with the failure of fountains
over a wide extent of country.
Without at present entering minutely into this feature of the climate,
it may be remarked that the Kuruman district presents evidence
of this dry southern region having, at no very distant date,
been as well watered as the country north of Lake Ngami is now.
Ancient river-beds and water-courses abound, and the very eyes of fountains
long since dried up may be seen, in which the flow of centuries
has worn these orifices from a slit to an oval form, having on their sides
the tufa so abundantly deposited from these primitive waters;
and just where the splashings, made when the stream fell
on the rock below, may be supposed to have reached and evaporated,
the same phenomenon appears. Many of these failing fountains no longer flow,
because the brink over which they ran is now too high,
or because the elevation of the western side of the country
lifts the land away from the water supply below; but let a cutting be made
from a lower level than the brink, and through it to a part
below the surface of the water, and water flows perennially.
Several of these ancient fountains have been resuscitated by the Bechuanas
near Kuruman, who occasionally show their feelings of self-esteem
by laboring for months at deep cuttings, which, having once begun,
they feel bound in honor to persevere in, though told by a missionary
that they can never force water to run up hill.
It is interesting to observe the industry of many Boers in this region
in making long and deep canals from lower levels up to spots
destitute of the slightest indication of water existing beneath
except a few rushes and a peculiar kind of coarse, reddish-colored grass
growing in a hollow, which anciently must have been the eye of a fountain,
but is now filled up with soft tufa. In other instances,
the indication of water below consists of the rushes growing
on a long, sandy ridge a foot or two in height instead of in a furrow.
A deep transverse cutting made through the higher part of this
is rewarded by a stream of running water. The reason why the ground
covering this water is higher than the rest of the locality
is that the winds carry quantities of fine dust and sand about the country,
and hedges, bushes, and trees cause its deposit. The rushes in this case
perform the part of the hedges, and the moisture rising as dew by night
fixes the sand securely among the roots, and a height,
instead of a hollow, is the result. While on this subject it may be added
that there is no perennial fountain in this part of the country
except those that come from beneath the quartzose trap,
which constitutes the "filling up" of the ancient valley;
and as the water supply seems to rest on the old silurian schists
which form its bottom, it is highly probable that Artesian wells
would in several places perform the part which these deep cuttings now do.
The aspect of this part of the country during most of the year
is of a light yellow color; for some months during the rainy season
it is of a pleasant green mixed with yellow. Ranges of hills
appear in the west, but east of them we find hundreds of miles
of grass-covered plains. Large patches of these flats are covered
with white calcareous tufa resting on perfectly horizontal strata of trap.
There the vegetation consists of fine grass growing in tufts
among low bushes of the "wait-a-bit" thorn (`Acacia detinens'),
with its annoying fish-hook-like spines. Where these rocks
do not appear on the surface, the soil consists of yellow sand
and tall, coarse grasses, growing among berry-yielding bushes,
named moretloa (`Grewia flava') and mohatla (`Tarchonanthus'),
which has enough of aromatic resinous matter to burn brightly,
though perfectly green. In more sheltered spots we come on clumps
of the white-thorned mimosa (`Acacia horrida', also `A. atomiphylla'),
and great abundance of wild sage (`Salvia Africana'),
and various leguminosae, ixias, and large-flowering bulbs:
the `Amaryllis toxicaria' and `A. Brunsvigia multiflora'
(the former a poisonous bulb) yield in the decayed lamellae
a soft, silky down, a good material for stuffing mattresses.
In some few parts of the country the remains of ancient forests
of wild olive-trees (`Olea similis') and of the camel-thorn (`Acacia giraffe')
are still to be met with; but when these are leveled
in the proximity of a Bechuana village, no young trees spring up
to take their places. This is not because the wood has a growth so slow
as not to be appreciable in its increase during the short period
that it can be observed by man, which might be supposed from its being
so excessively hard; for having measured a young tree of this species
growing in the corner of Mr. Moffat's garden near the water, I found
that it increased at the rate of a quarter of an inch in diameter annually
during a number of years. Moreover, the larger specimens,
which now find few or no successors, if they had more rain in their youth,
can not be above two or three hundred years old.
It is probable that this is the tree of which the Ark of the Covenant
and the Tabernacle were constructed, as it is reported to be found
where the Israelites were at the time these were made.
It is an imperishable wood, while that usually pointed out
as the "shittim" (or `Acacia nilotica') soon decays and wants beauty.
In association with it we always observe a curious plant, named ngotuane,
which bears such a profusion of fine yellow strong-scented flowers
as quite to perfume the air. This plant forms a remarkable exception
to the general rule, that nearly all the plants in the dry parts of Africa
are scentless, or emit only a disagreeable odor. It, moreover,
contains an active poison; a French gentleman, having imbibed
a mouthful or two of an infusion of its flowers as tea, found himself rendered
nearly powerless. Vinegar has the peculiar property of rendering this poison
perfectly inert, whether in or out of the body. When mixed with vinegar,
the poison may be drunk with safety, while, if only tasted by itself,
it causes a burning sensation in the throat. This gentleman described
the action of the vinegar, when he was nearly deprived of power
by the poison imbibed, to have been as if electricity had run along his nerves
as soon as he had taken a single glassful. The cure was
instantaneous and complete. I had always to regret want of opportunity
for investigating this remarkable and yet controllable agent
on the nervous system. Its usual proximity to camel-thorn-trees
may be accounted for by the PROBABILITY that the giraffe,
which feeds on this tree, MAY make use of the plant as a medicine.
During the period of my visit at Kuruman, Mr. Moffat, who has been
a missionary in Africa during upward of forty years, and is well known
by his interesting work, "Scenes and Labors in South Africa",
was busily engaged in carrying through the press, with which
his station is furnished, the Bible in the language of the Bechuanas,
which is called Sichuana. This has been a work of immense labor;
and as he was the first to reduce their speech to a written form,
and has had his attention directed to the study for at least thirty years,
he may be supposed to be better adapted for the task than any man living.
Some idea of the copiousness of the language may be formed from the fact
that even he never spends a week at his work without discovering new words;
the phenomenon, therefore, of any man who, after a few months' or years'
study of a native tongue, cackles forth a torrent of vocables,
may well be wondered at, if it is meant to convey instruction.
In my own case, though I have had as much intercourse with the purest idiom
as most Englishmen, and have studied the language carefully,
yet I can never utter an important statement without doing so very slowly,
and repeating it too, lest the foreign accent, which is distinctly perceptible
in all Europeans, should render the sense unintelligible. In this I follow
the example of the Bechuana orators, who, on important matters,
always speak slowly, deliberately, and with reiteration.
The capabilities of this language may be inferred from the fact that
the Pentateuch is fully expressed in Mr. Moffat's translation in fewer words
than in the Greek Septuagint, and in a very considerably smaller number
than in our own English version. The language is, however, so simple
in its construction, that its copiousness by no means requires the explanation
that the people have fallen from a former state of civilization and culture.
Language seems to be an attribute of the human mind and thought;
and the inflections, various as they are in the most barbarous tongues,
as that of the Bushmen, are probably only proofs of the race being human,
and endowed with the power of thinking; the fuller development of language
taking place as the improvement of our other faculties goes on.
It is fortunate that the translation of the Bible has been effected
before the language became adulterated with half-uttered foreign words,
and while those who have heard the eloquence of the native assemblies
are still living; for the young, who are brought up in our schools,
know less of the language than the missionaries; and Europeans
born in the country, while possessed of the idiom perfectly,
if not otherwise educated, can not be referred to for explanation of any
uncommon word. A person who acted as interpreter to Sir George Cathcart
actually told his excellency that the language of the Basutos
was not capable of expressing the substance of a chief's diplomatic paper,
while every one acquainted with Moshesh, the chief who sent it,
well knows that he could in his own tongue have expressed it without study
all over again in three or four different ways. The interpreter
could scarcely have done as much in English.
This language both rich and poor speak correctly; there is no vulgar style;
but children have a `patois' of their own, using many words in their play
which men would scorn to repeat. The Bamapela have adopted a click
into their dialect, and a large infusion of the ringing "ny",
which seems to have been for the purpose of preventing others
from understanding them.
The fact of the complete translation of the Bible at a station
seven hundred miles inland from the Cape naturally suggests the question
whether it is likely to be permanently useful, and whether Christianity,
as planted by modern missions, is likely to retain its vitality
without constant supplies of foreign teaching? It would certainly
be no cause for congratulation if the Bechuana Bible seemed at all likely
to meet the fate of Elliot's Choctaw version, a specimen of which
may be seen in the library of one of the American colleges --
as God's word in a language which no living tongue can articulate,
nor living mortal understand; but a better destiny seems in store for this,
for the Sichuana language has been introduced into the new country
beyond Lake Ngami. There it is the court language, and will take a stranger
any where through a district larger than France. The Bechuanas, moreover,
in all probability possess that imperishability which forms
so remarkable a feature in the entire African race.
When converts are made from heathenism by modern missionaries,
it becomes an interesting question whether their faith possesses
the elements of permanence, or is only an exotic too tender
for self-propagation when the fostering care of the foreign cultivators
is withdrawn. If neither habits of self-reliance are cultivated,
nor opportunities given for the exercise of that virtue,
the most promising converts are apt to become like spoiled children.
In Madagascar, a few Christians were left with nothing but the Bible
in their hands; and though exposed to persecution, and even death itself,
as the penalty of adherence to their profession, they increased ten-fold
in numbers, and are, if possible, more decided believers now
than they were when, by an edict of the queen of that island,
the missionaries ceased their teaching.
In South Africa such an experiment could not be made,
for such a variety of Christian sects have followed the footsteps
of the London Missionary Society's successful career,
that converts of one denomination, if left to their own resources,
are eagerly adopted by another, and are thus more likely to become spoiled
than trained to the manly Christian virtues.
Another element of weakness in this part of the missionary field
is the fact of the missionary societies considering the Cape Colony itself
as a proper sphere for their peculiar operations. In addition to
a well-organized and efficient Dutch Reformed Established Church,
and schools for secular instruction, maintained by government,
in every village of any extent in the colony, we have a number of other sects,
as the Wesleyans, Episcopalians, Moravians, all piously laboring
at the same good work. Now it is deeply to be regretted
that so much honest zeal should be so lavishly expended in a district wherein
there is so little scope for success. When we hear an agent of one sect
urging his friends at home to aid him quickly to occupy some unimportant nook,
because, if it is not speedily laid hold of, he will "not have room for
the sole of his foot," one can not help longing that both he and his friends
would direct their noble aspirations to the millions of untaught heathen
in the regions beyond, and no longer continue to convert
the extremity of the continent into, as it were, a dam of benevolence.
I would earnestly recommend all young missionaries to go at once
to the real heathen, and never to be content with what has been made
ready to their hands by men of greater enterprise. The idea of making
model Christians of the young need not be entertained by any one
who is secretly convinced, as most men who know their own hearts are,
that he is not a model Christian himself. The Israelitish slaves
brought out of Egypt by Moses were not converted and elevated
in one generation, though under the direct teaching of God himself.
Notwithstanding the numbers of miracles he wrought, a generation
had to be cut off because of unbelief. Our own elevation, also,
has been the work of centuries, and, remembering this,
we should not indulge in overwrought expectations as to the elevation
which those who have inherited the degradation of ages may attain in our day.
The principle might even be adopted by missionary societies,
that one ordinary missionary's lifetime of teaching should be considered
an ample supply of foreign teaching for any tribe in a thinly-peopled country,
for some never will receive the Gospel at all, while in other parts,
when Christianity is once planted, the work is sure to go on.
A missionary is soon known to be supported by his friends at home;
and though the salary is but a bare subsistence, to Africans it seems
an enormous sum; and, being unable to appreciate the motives
by which he is actuated, they consider themselves entitled
to various services at his hands, and defrauded if these
are not duly rendered. This feeling is all the stronger when a young man,
instead of going boldly to the real heathen, settles down
in a comfortable house and garden prepared by those into whose labors
he has entered. A remedy for this evil might be found
in appropriating the houses and gardens raised by the missionaries' hands
to their own families. It is ridiculous to call such places as Kuruman,
for instance, "Missionary Society's property". This beautiful station was
made what it is, not by English money, but by the sweat and toil of fathers
whose children have, notwithstanding, no place on earth which they can
call a home. The Society's operations may be transferred to the north,
and then the strong-built mission premises become the home of a Boer,
and the stately stone church his cattle-pen. This place has been
what the monasteries of Europe are said to have been when pure.
The monks did not disdain to hold the plow. They introduced fruit-trees,
flowers, and vegetables, in addition to teaching and emancipating the serfs.
Their monasteries were mission stations, which resembled ours
in being dispensaries for the sick, almshouses for the poor,
and nurseries of learning. Can we learn nothing from them
in their prosperity as the schools of Europe, and see naught in their history
but the pollution and laziness of their decay? Can our wise men tell us
why the former mission stations (primitive monasteries) were self-supporting,
rich, and flourishing as pioneers of civilization and agriculture,
from which we even now reap benefits, and modern mission stations
are mere pauper establishments, without that permanence or ability
to be self-supporting which they possessed?
Protestant missionaries of every denomination in South Africa
all agree in one point, that no mere profession of Christianity
is sufficient to entitle the converts to the Christian name.
They are all anxious to place the Bible in the hands of the natives,
and, with ability to read that, there can be little doubt as to the future.
We believe Christianity to be divine, and equal to all it has to perform;
then let the good seed be widely sown, and, no matter to what sect
the converts may belong, the harvest will be glorious.
Let nothing that I have said be interpreted as indicative of feelings
inimical to any body of Christians, for I never, as a missionary,
felt myself to be either Presbyterian, Episcopalian, or Independent,
or called upon in any way to love one denomination less than another.
My earnest desire is, that those who really have the best interests
of the heathen at heart should go to them; and assuredly, in Africa at least,
self-denying labors among real heathen will not fail to be appreciated.
Christians have never yet dealt fairly by the heathen and been disappointed.
When Sechele understood that we could no longer remain with him at Kolobeng,
he sent his children to Mr. Moffat, at Kuruman, for instruction
in all the knowledge of the white men. Mr. Moffat very liberally
received at once an accession of five to his family, with their attendants.
Having been detained at Kuruman about a fortnight by the breaking
of a wagon-wheel, I was thus providentially prevented from being present
at the attack of the Boers on the Bakwains, news of which was brought,
about the end of that time, by Masebele, the wife of Sechele.
She had herself been hidden in a cleft of a rock, over which
a number of Boers were firing. Her infant began to cry,
and, terrified lest this should attract the attention of the men,
the muzzles of whose guns appeared at every discharge over her head,
she took off her armlets as playthings to quiet the child.
She brought Mr. Moffat a letter, which tells its own tale.
Nearly literally translated it was as follows:
"Friend of my heart's love, and of all the confidence of my heart,
I am Sechele. I am undone by the Boers, who attacked me, though I had
no guilt with them. They demanded that I should be in their kingdom,
and I refused. They demanded that I should prevent the English and Griquas
from passing (northward). I replied, These are my friends,
and I can prevent no one (of them). They came on Saturday,
and I besought them not to fight on Sunday, and they assented.
They began on Monday morning at twilight, and fired with all their might,
and burned the town with fire, and scattered us. They killed
sixty of my people, and captured women, and children, and men.
And the mother of Baleriling (a former wife of Sechele) they also
took prisoner. They took all the cattle and all the goods of the Bakwains;
and the house of Livingstone they plundered, taking away all his goods.
The number of wagons they had was eighty-five, and a cannon; and after they
had stolen my own wagon and that of Macabe, then the number of their wagons
(counting the cannon as one) was eighty-eight. All the goods of the hunters
(certain English gentlemen hunting and exploring in the north)
were burned in the town; and of the Boers were killed twenty-eight.
Yes, my beloved friend, now my wife goes to see the children,
and Kobus Hae will convey her to you.
I am, SECHELE,
The Son of Mochoasele."
This statement is in exact accordance with the account given by
the native teacher Mebalwe, and also that sent by some of the Boers themselves
to the public colonial papers. The crime of cattle-stealing, of which
we hear so much near Caffreland, was never alleged against these people,
and, if a single case had occurred when I was in the country,
I must have heard of it, and would at once say so. But the only crime
imputed in the papers was that "Sechele was getting too saucy."
The demand made for his subjection and service in preventing
the English traders passing to the north was kept out of view.
Very soon after Pretorius had sent the marauding party against Kolobeng,
he was called away to the tribunal of infinite justice.
His policy is justified by the Boers generally from the instructions given
to the Jewish warriors in Deuteronomy 20:10-14. Hence, when he died,
the obituary notice ended with "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord."
I wish he had not "forbidden us to preach unto the Gentiles
that they may be saved."
The report of this outrage on the Bakwains, coupled with denunciations
against myself for having, as it was alleged, taught them to kill Boers,
produced such a panic in the country, that I could not engage
a single servant to accompany me to the north. I have already alluded
to their mode of warfare, and in all previous Boerish forays
the killing had all been on one side; now, however, that a tribe
where an Englishman had lived had begun to shed THEIR blood as well,
it was considered the strongest presumptive evidence against me.
Loud vows of vengeance were uttered against my head,
and threats of instant pursuit by a large party on horseback,
should I dare to go into or beyond their country; and as these were coupled
with the declaration that the English government had given over
the whole of the native tribes to their rule, and would assist
in their entire subjection by preventing fire-arms and ammunition
from entering the country, except for the use of the Boers,
it was not to be wondered at that I was detained for months at Kuruman
from sheer inability to get wagon-drivers. The English name,
from being honored and respected all over the country,
had become somewhat more than suspected; and as the policy of depriving
those friendly tribes of the means of defense was represented by the Boers
as proof positive of the wish of the English that they should be subjugated,
the conduct of a government which these tribes always thought
the paragon of justice and friendship was rendered totally incomprehensible
to them; they could neither defend themselves against their enemies,
nor shoot the animals in the produce of which we wished them to trade.
At last I found three servants willing to risk a journey to the north;
and a man of color named George Fleming, who had generously been assisted
by Mr. H. E. Rutherford, a mercantile gentleman of Cape Town,
to endeavor to establish a trade with the Makololo, had also managed
to get a similar number; we accordingly left Kuruman on the 20th of November,
and proceeded on our journey. Our servants were the worst possible specimens
of those who imbibe the vices without the virtues of Europeans,
but we had no choice, and were glad to get away on any terms.
When we reached Motito, forty miles off, we met Sechele on his way,
as he said, "to the Queen of England." Two of his own children,
and their mother, a former wife, were among the captives seized by the Boers;
and being strongly imbued with the then very prevalent notion of England's
justice and generosity, he thought that in consequence of the violated treaty
he had a fair case to lay before her majesty. He employed
all his eloquence and powers of persuasion to induce me to accompany him,
but I excused myself on the ground that my arrangements were already made
for exploring the north. On explaining the difficulties of the way,
and endeavoring to dissuade him from the attempt, on account of the knowledge
I possessed of the governor's policy, he put the pointed question,
"Will the queen not listen to me, supposing I should reach her?"
I replied, "I believe she would listen, but the difficulty is to get to her."
"Well, I shall reach her," expressed his final determination.
Others explained the difficulties more fully, but nothing could shake
his resolution. When he reached Bloemfontein he found the English army
just returning from a battle with the Basutos, in which both parties
claimed the victory, and both were glad that a second engagement
was not tried. Our officers invited Sechele to dine with them,
heard his story, and collected a handsome sum of money to enable him
to pursue his journey to England. The commander refrained from noticing him,
as a single word in favor of the restoration of the children of Sechele
would have been a virtual confession of the failure of his own policy
at the very outset. Sechele proceeded as far as the Cape; but his resources
being there expended, he was obliged to return to his own country,
one thousand miles distant, without accomplishing the object of his journey.
On his return he adopted a mode of punishment which he had seen in the colony,
namely, making criminals work on the public roads. And he has since,
I am informed, made himself the missionary to his own people.
He is tall, rather corpulent, and has more of the negro feature than common,
but has large eyes. He is very dark, and his people swear by "Black Sechele".
He has great intelligence, reads well, and is a fluent speaker.
Great numbers of the tribes formerly living under the Boers
have taken refuge under his sway, and he is now greater in power
than he was before the attack on Kolobeng.
Having parted with Sechele, we skirted along the Kalahari Desert,
and sometimes within its borders, giving the Boers a wide berth.
A larger fall of rain than usual had occurred in 1852,
and that was the completion of a cycle of eleven or twelve years,
at which the same phenomenon is reported to have happened on three occasions.
An unusually large crop of melons had appeared in consequence.
We had the pleasure of meeting with Mr. J. Macabe returning from Lake Ngami,
which he had succeeded in reaching by going right across the Desert
from a point a little to the south of Kolobeng. The accounts of
the abundance of watermelons were amply confirmed by this energetic traveler;
for, having these in vast quantities, his cattle subsisted
on the fluid contained in them for a period of no less than twenty-one days;
and when at last they reached a supply of water, they did not seem to care
much about it. Coming to the lake from the southeast, he crossed the Teoughe,
and went round the northern part of it, and is the only European traveler
who had actually seen it all. His estimate of the extent of the lake
is higher than that given by Mr. Oswell and myself, or from about ninety
to one hundred miles in circumference. Before the lake was discovered,
Macabe wrote a letter in one of the Cape papers recommending a certain route
as likely to lead to it. The Transvaal Boers fined him 500 dollars
for writing about "ouze felt", OUR country, and imprisoned him, too,
till the fine was paid. I now learned from his own lips
that the public report of this is true. Mr. Macabe's companion, Mahar,
was mistaken by a tribe of Barolongs for a Boer, and shot as he approached
their village. When Macabe came up and explained that he was an Englishman,
they expressed the utmost regret, and helped to bury him.
This was the first case in recent times of an Englishman being slain
by the Bechuanas. We afterward heard that there had been some fighting
between these Barolongs and the Boers, and that there had been
capturing of cattle on both sides. If this was true, I can only say that
it was the first time that I ever heard of cattle being taken by Bechuanas.
This was a Caffre war in stage the second; the third stage in the development
is when both sides are equally well armed and afraid of each other;
the fourth, when the English take up a quarrel not their own,
and the Boers slip out of the fray.
Two other English gentlemen crossed and recrossed the Desert
about the same time, and nearly in the same direction. On returning,
one of them, Captain Shelley, while riding forward on horseback,
lost himself, and was obliged to find his way alone to Kuruman,
some hundreds of miles distant. Reaching that station shirtless,
and as brown as a Griqua, he was taken for one by Mrs. Moffat,
and was received by her with a salutation in Dutch, that being the language
spoken by this people. His sufferings must have been far more severe
than any we endured. The result of the exertions of both Shelley and Macabe
is to prove that the general view of the Desert always given by the natives
has been substantially correct.
Occasionally, during the very dry seasons which succeed our winter
and precede our rains, a hot wind blows over the Desert from north to south.
It feels somewhat as if it came from an oven, and seldom
blows longer at a time than three days. It resembles in its effects
the harmattan of the north of Africa, and at the time the missionaries
first settled in the country, thirty-five years ago,
it came loaded with fine reddish-colored sand. Though no longer
accompanied by sand, it is so devoid of moisture as to cause
the wood of the best seasoned English boxes and furniture to shrink,
so that every wooden article not made in the country is warped.
The verls of ramrods made in England are loosened, and on returning to Europe
fasten again. This wind is in such an electric state
that a bunch of ostrich feathers held a few seconds against it
becomes as strongly charged as if attached to a powerful electrical machine,
and clasps the advancing hand with a sharp crackling sound.
When this hot wind is blowing, and even at other times, the peculiarly strong
electrical state of the atmosphere causes the movement of a native
in his kaross to produce therein a stream of small sparks.
The first time I noticed this appearance was while a chief
was traveling with me in my wagon. Seeing part of the fur of his mantle,
which was exposed to slight friction by the movement of the wagon,
assume quite a luminous appearance, I rubbed it smartly with the hand,
and found it readily gave out bright sparks, accompanied with distinct cracks.
"Don't you see this?" said I. "The white men did not show us this,"
he replied; "we had it long before white men came into the country,
we and our forefathers of old." Unfortunately, I never inquired the name
which they gave to this appearance, but I have no doubt there is one for it
in the language. Otto von Guerrike is said, by Baron Humboldt, to have been
the first that ever observed this effect in Europe, but the phenomenon
had been familiar to the Bechuanas for ages. Nothing came of that, however,
for they viewed the sight as if with the eyes of an ox.
The human mind has remained here as stagnant to the present day,
in reference to the physical operations of the universe,
as it once did in England. No science has been developed,
and few questions are ever discussed except those which have
an intimate connection with the wants of the stomach.
Very large flocks of swifts (`Cypselus apus') were observed
flying over the plains north of Kuruman. I counted a stream of them,
which, by the time it took to pass toward the reeds of that valley,
must have numbered upward of four thousand. Only a few of these birds
breed at any time in this country. I have often observed them,
and noticed that there was no appearance of their having paired;
there was no chasing of each other, nor any playing together.
There are several other birds which continue in flocks, and move about
like wandering gipsies, even during the breeding season, which in this country
happens in the intervals between the cold and hot seasons,
cold acting somewhat in the same way here as the genial warmth of spring
does in Europe. Are these the migratory birds of Europe,
which return there to breed and rear their young?
On the 31st of December, 1852, we reached the town of Sechele,
called, from the part of the range on which it is situated, Litubaruba.
Near the village there exists a cave named Lepelole;
it is an interesting evidence of the former existence of a gushing fountain.
No one dared to enter the Lohaheng, or cave, for it was the common belief
that it was the habitation of the Deity. As we never had a holiday
from January to December, and our Sundays were the periods of our greatest
exertions in teaching, I projected an excursion into the cave on a week-day
to see the god of the Bakwains. The old men said that every one who went in
remained there forever, adding, "If the teacher is so mad as to kill himself,
let him do so alone, we shall not be to blame." The declaration of Sechele,
that he would follow where I led, produced the greatest consternation.
It is curious that in all their pretended dreams or visions of their god
he has always a crooked leg, like the Egyptian Thau. Supposing that
those who were reported to have perished in this cave had fallen over
some precipice, we went well provided with lights, ladder, lines, &c.;
but it turned out to be only an open cave, with an entrance
about ten feet square, which contracts into two water-worn branches,
ending in round orifices through which the water once flowed.
The only inhabitants it seems ever to have had were baboons.
I left at the end of the upper branch one of Father Mathew's
leaden teetotal tickets.
I never saw the Bakwains looking so haggard and lean as at this time.
Most of their cattle had been swept away by the Boers,
together with about eighty fine draught oxen; and much provision
left with them by two officers, Captains Codrington and Webb,
to serve for their return journey south, had been carried off also.
On their return these officers found the skeletons of the Bakwains
where they expected to find their own goods. All the corn, clothing,
and furniture of the people, too, had been consumed in the flames
which the Boers had forced the subject tribes to apply to the town
during the fight, so that its inhabitants were now literally starving.
Sechele had given orders to his people not to commit any act of revenge
pending his visit to the Queen of England; but some of the young men
ventured to go to meet a party of Boers returning from hunting,
and, as the Boers became terrified and ran off, they brought their wagons
to Litubaruba. This seems to have given the main body of Boers an idea
that the Bakwains meant to begin a guerrilla war upon them.
This "Caffre war" was, however, only in embryo, and not near
that stage of development in which the natives have found out
that the hide-and-seek system is the most successful.
The Boers, in alarm, sent four of their number to ask for peace!
I, being present, heard the condition: "Sechele's children must be
restored to him." I never saw men so completely and unconsciously in a trap
as these four Boers were. Strong parties of armed Bakwains occupied
every pass in the hills and gorges around; and had they not promised much more
than they intended, or did perform, that day would have been their last.
The commandant Scholz had appropriated the children of Sechele
to be his own domestic slaves. I was present when one little boy,
Khari, son of Sechele, was returned to his mother; the child had been allowed
to roll into the fire, and there were three large unbound open sores
on different parts of his body. His mother and the women received him
with a flood of silent tears.
Slavery is said to be mild and tender-hearted in some places.
The Boers assert that they are the best of masters, and that,
if the English had possessed the Hottentot slaves, they would have received
much worse treatment than they did: what that would have been it is difficult
to imagine. I took down the names of some scores of boys and girls,
many of whom I knew as our scholars; but I could not comfort
the weeping mothers by any hope of their ever returning from slavery.
The Bechuanas are universally much attached to children.
A little child toddling near a party of men while they are eating
is sure to get a handful of the food. This love of children may arise,
in a great measure, from the patriarchal system under which they dwell.
Every little stranger forms an increase of property to the whole community,
and is duly reported to the chief -- boys being more welcome than girls.
The parents take the name of the child, and often address their children
as Ma (mother), or Ra (father). Our eldest boy being named Robert,
Mrs. Livingstone was, after his birth, always addressed as Ma-Robert,
instead of Mary, her Christian name.
I have examined several cases in which a grandmother has taken upon herself
to suckle a grandchild. Masina of Kuruman had no children
after the birth of her daughter Sina, and had no milk after Sina was weaned,
an event which usually is deferred till the child is two or three years old.
Sina married when she was seventeen or eighteen, and had twins;
Masina, after at least fifteen years' interval since she had suckled a child,
took possession of one of them, applied it to her breast, and milk flowed,
so that she was able to nurse the child entirely. Masina was at this time
at least forty years of age. I have witnessed several other cases
analogous to this. A grandmother of forty, or even less, for they
become withered at an early age, when left at home with a young child,
applies it to her own shriveled breast, and milk soon follows.
In some cases, as that of Ma-bogosing, the chief wife of Mahure,
who was about thirty-five years of age, the child was not entirely dependent
on the grandmother's breast, as the mother suckled it too.
I had witnessed the production of milk so frequently by the simple
application of the lips of the child, that I was not therefore surprised
when told by the Portuguese in Eastern Africa of a native doctor who,
by applying a poultice of the pounded larvae of hornets
to the breast of a woman, aided by the attempts of the child,
could bring back the milk. Is it not possible that the story
in the "Cloud of Witnesses" of a man, during the time of persecution
in Scotland, putting his child to his own breast, and finding,
to the astonishment of the whole country, that milk followed the act,
may have been literally true? It was regarded and is quoted as a miracle;
but the feelings of the father toward the child of a murdered mother
must have been as nearly as possible analogous to the maternal feeling;
and, as anatomists declare the structure of both male and female breasts
to be identical, there is nothing physically impossible in the alleged result.
The illustrious Baron Humboldt quotes an instance of the male breast
yielding milk; and, though I am not conscious of being over-credulous,
the strange instances I have examined in the opposite sex make me believe
that there is no error in that philosopher's statement.
The Boers know from experience that adult captives may as well be left alone,
for escape is so easy in a wild country that no fugitive-slave-law
can come into operation; they therefore adopt the system of seizing only
the youngest children, in order that these may forget their parents and remain
in perpetual bondage. I have seen mere infants in their houses repeatedly.
This fact was formerly denied; and the only thing which was wanting
to make the previous denial of the practice of slavery and slave-hunting
by the Transvaal Boers no longer necessary was the declaration
of their independence.
In conversation with some of my friends here I learned that Maleke,
a chief of the Bakwains, who formerly lived on the hill Litubaruba,
had been killed by the bite of a mad dog. My curiosity was strongly excited
by this statement, as rabies is so rare in this country.
I never heard of another case, and could not satisfy myself
that even this was real hydrophobia. While I was at Mabotsa,
some dogs became affected by a disease which led them to run about
in an incoherent state; but I doubt whether it was any thing
but an affection of the brain. No individual or animal got the complaint
by inoculation from the animals' teeth; and from all that I could hear,
the prevailing idea of hydrophobia not existing within the tropics
seems to be quite correct.
The diseases known among the Bakwains are remarkably few.
There is no consumption nor scrofula, and insanity and hydrocephalus are rare.
Cancer and cholera are quite unknown. Small-pox and measles passed
through the country about twenty years ago, and committed great ravages;
but, though the former has since broken out on the coast repeatedly,
neither disease has since traveled inland. For small-pox,
the natives employed, in some parts, inoculation in the forehead
with some animal deposit; in other parts, they employed
the matter of the small-pox itself; and in one village they seem
to have selected a virulent case for the matter used in the operation,
for nearly all the village was swept off by the disease
in a malignant confluent form. Where the idea came from I can not conceive.
It was practiced by the Bakwains at a time when they had no intercourse,
direct or indirect, with the southern missionaries. They all adopt readily
the use of vaccine virus when it is brought within their reach.
A certain loathsome disease, which decimates the North American Indians,
and threatens extirpation to the South Sea Islanders,
dies out in the interior of Africa without the aid of medicine;
and the Bangwaketse, who brought it from the west coast,
lost it when they came into their own land southwest of Kolobeng.
It seems incapable of permanence in any form in persons of pure African blood
any where in the centre of the country. In persons of mixed blood
it is otherwise; and the virulence of the secondary symptoms seemed to be,
in all the cases that came under my care, in exact proportion
to the greater or less amount of European blood in the patient.
Among the Corannas and Griquas of mixed breed it produces the same ravages
as in Europe; among half-blood Portuguese it is equally frightful
in its inroads on the system; but in the pure Negro of the central parts
it is quite incapable of permanence. Among the Barotse
I found a disease called manassah, which closely resembles
that of the `foeda mulier' of history.
Equally unknown is stone in the bladder and gravel. I never met with a case,
though the waters are often so strongly impregnated with sulphate of lime
that kettles quickly become incrusted internally with the salt;
and some of my patients, who were troubled with indigestion, believed that
their stomachs had got into the same condition. This freedom from calculi
would appear to be remarkable in the negro race, even in the United States;
for seldom indeed have the most famed lithotomists there
ever operated on a negro.
The diseases most prevalent are the following: pneumonia,
produced by sudden changes of temperature, and other inflammations,
as of the bowels, stomach, and pleura; rheumatism; disease of the heart --
but these become rare as the people adopt the European dress --
various forms of indigestion and ophthalmia; hooping-cough comes frequently;
and every year the period preceding the rains is marked
by some sort of epidemic. Sometimes it is general ophthalmia,
resembling closely the Egyptian. In another year it is a kind of diarrhoea,
which nothing will cure until there is a fall of rain, and any thing
acts as a charm after that. One year the epidemic period was marked
by a disease which looked like pneumonia, but had the peculiar symptom
strongly developed of great pain in the seventh cervical process.
Many persons died of it, after being in a comatose state
for many hours or days before their decease. No inspection of the body
being ever allowed by these people, and the place of sepulture
being carefully concealed, I had to rest satisfied with conjecture.
Frequently the Bakwains buried their dead in the huts where they died,
for fear lest the witches (Baloi) should disinter their friends,
and use some part of the body in their fiendish arts.
Scarcely is the breath out of the body when the unfortunate patient
is hurried away to be buried. An ant-eater's hole is often selected,
in order to save the trouble of digging a grave. On two occasions
while I was there this hasty burial was followed by the return home
of the men, who had been buried alive, to their affrighted relatives.
They had recovered, while in their graves, from prolonged swoons.
In ophthalmia the doctors cup on the temples, and apply to the eyes
the pungent smoke of certain roots, the patient, at the same time,
taking strong draughts of it up his nostrils. We found the solution
of nitrate of silver, two or three grains to the ounce of rain-water,
answer the same end so much more effectually, that every morning
numbers of patients crowded round our house for the collyrium.
It is a good preventive of an acute attack when poured into the eyes
as soon as the pain begins, and might prove valuable for travelers.
Cupping is performed with the horn of a goat or antelope, having a little hole
pierced in the small end. In some cases a small piece of wax is attached,
and a temporary hole made through it to the horn. When the air
is well withdrawn, and kept out by touching the orifice, at every inspiration,
with the point of the tongue, the wax is at last pressed together
with the teeth, and the little hole in it closed up, leaving a vacuum
within the horn for the blood to flow from the already scarified parts.
The edges of the horn applied to the surface are wetted,
and cupping is well performed, though the doctor occasionally,
by separating the fibrine from the blood in a basin of water by his side,
and exhibiting it, pretends that he has extracted something more than blood.
He can thus explain the rationale of the cure by his own art,
and the ocular demonstration given is well appreciated.
Those doctors who have inherited their profession as an heirloom
from their fathers and grandfathers generally possess some valuable knowledge,
the result of long and close observation; but if a man can not say
that the medical art is in his family, he may be considered a quack.
With the regular practitioners I always remained on the best terms,
by refraining from appearing to doubt their skill in the presence of
their patients. Any explanation in private was thankfully received by them,
and wrong treatment changed into something more reasonable
with cordial good-will, if no one but the doctor and myself
were present at the conversation. English medicines were eagerly
asked for and accepted by all; and we always found medical knowledge
an important aid in convincing the people that we were really anxious
for their welfare. We can not accuse them of ingratitude;
in fact, we shall remember the kindness of the Bakwains to us
as long as we live.
The surgical knowledge of the native doctors is rather at a low ebb.
No one ever attempted to remove a tumor except by external applications.
Those with which the natives are chiefly troubled are
fatty and fibrous tumors; and as they all have the `vis medicatrix naturae'
in remarkable activity, I safely removed an immense number.
In illustration of their want of surgical knowledge may be mentioned
the case of a man who had a tumor as large as a child's head.
This was situated on the nape of his neck, and prevented his walking straight.
He applied to his chief, and he got some famous strange doctor
from the East Coast to cure him. He and his assistants
attempted to dissolve it by kindling on it a little fire
made of a few small pieces of medicinal roots. I removed it for him,
and he always walked with his head much more erect than he needed to do
ever afterward. Both men and women submit to an operation without wincing,
or any of that shouting which caused young students to faint
in the operating theatre before the introduction of chloroform.
The women pride themselves on their ability to bear pain. A mother will
address her little girl, from whose foot a thorn is to be extracted, with,
"Now, ma, you are a woman; a woman does not cry." A man scorns to shed tears.
When we were passing one of the deep wells in the Kalahari,
a boy, the son of an aged father, had been drowned in it
while playing on its brink. When all hope was gone, the father uttered
an exceedingly great and bitter cry. It was sorrow without hope.
This was the only instance I ever met with of a man weeping in this country.
Their ideas on obstetrics are equally unscientific, and a medical man
going near a woman at her confinement appeared to them more out of place
than a female medical student appears to us in a dissecting-room.
A case of twins, however, happening, and the ointment
of all the doctors of the town proving utterly insufficient
to effect the relief which a few seconds of English art afforded,
the prejudice vanished at once. As it would have been out of the question
for me to have entered upon this branch of the profession -- as indeed
it would be inexpedient for any medical man to devote himself exclusively,
in a thinly-peopled country, to the practice of medicine --
I thereafter reserved myself for the difficult cases only,
and had the satisfaction of often conferring great benefits on poor women
in their hour of sorrow. The poor creatures are often placed in a little hut
built for the purpose, and are left without any assistance whatever,
and the numbers of umbilical herniae which are met with in consequence
is very great. The women suffer less at their confinement than is the case
in civilized countries; perhaps from their treating it, not as a disease,
but as an operation of nature, requiring no change of diet except
a feast of meat and abundance of fresh air. The husband on these occasions
is bound to slaughter for his lady an ox, or goat, or sheep,
according to his means.
My knowledge in the above line procured for me great fame
in a department in which I could lay no claim to merit.
A woman came a distance of one hundred miles for relief in a complaint
which seemed to have baffled the native doctors; a complete cure
was the result. Some twelve months after she returned to her husband,
she bore a son. Her husband having previously reproached her
for being barren, she sent me a handsome present, and proclaimed
all over the country that I possessed a medicine for the cure of sterility.
The consequence was, that I was teased with applications
from husbands and wives from all parts of the country.
Some came upward of two hundred miles to purchase the great boon,
and it was in vain for me to explain that I had only cured
the disease of the other case. The more I denied, the higher
their offers rose; they would give any money for the "child medicine";
and it was really heart-rending to hear the earnest entreaty,
and see the tearful eye, which spoke the intense desire for offspring:
"I am getting old; you see gray hairs here and there on my head,
and I have no child; you know how Bechuana husbands cast their old wives away;
what can I do? I have no child to bring water to me when I am sick," etc.
The whole of the country adjacent to the Desert, from Kuruman to Kolobeng,
or Litubaruba, and beyond up to the latitude of Lake Ngami,
is remarkable for its great salubrity of climate. Not only the natives,
but Europeans whose constitutions have been impaired by an Indian climate,
find the tract of country indicated both healthy and restorative.
The health and longevity of the missionaries have always been fair,
though mission-work is not very conducive to either elsewhere. Cases have
been known in which patients have come from the coast with complaints
closely resembling, if they were not actually, those of consumption;
and they have recovered by the influence of the climate alone.
It must always be borne in mind that the climate near the coast, from which
we received such very favorable reports of the health of the British troops,
is actually inferior for persons suffering from pulmonary complaints
to that of any part not subjected to the influence of sea-air.
I have never seen the beneficial effects of the inland climate
on persons of shattered constitutions, nor heard their high praises
of the benefit they have derived from traveling, without wishing
that its bracing effects should become more extensively known in England.
No one who has visited the region I have above mentioned fails
to remember with pleasure the wild, healthful gipsy life of wagon-traveling.
A considerable proportion of animal diet seems requisite here.
Independent of the want of salt, we required meat in as large quantity daily
as we do in England, and no bad effects, in the way of biliousness,
followed the free use of flesh, as in other hot climates.
A vegetable diet causes acidity and heartburn.
Mr. Oswell thought this climate much superior to that of Peru,
as far as pleasure is concerned; the want of instruments unfortunately
prevented my obtaining accurate scientific data for the medical world
on this subject; and were it not for the great expense of such a trip,
I should have no hesitation in recommending the borders of the Kalahari Desert
as admirably suited for all patients having pulmonary complaints.
It is the complete antipodes to our cold, damp, English climate.
The winter is perfectly dry; and as not a drop of rain falls
during that period, namely, from the beginning of May to the end of August,
damp and cold are never combined. However hot the day may have been
at Kolobeng -- and the thermometer sometimes rose, previous to a fall of rain,
up to 96 Deg. in the coolest part of our house -- yet the atmosphere
never has that steamy feeling nor those debilitating effects
so well known in India and on the coast of Africa itself. In the evenings
the air becomes deliciously cool, and a pleasant refreshing night follows
the hottest day. The greatest heat ever felt is not so oppressive as it is
when there is much humidity in the air; and the great evaporation consequent
on a fall of rain makes the rainy season the most agreeable for traveling.
Nothing can exceed the balmy feeling of the evenings and mornings
during the whole year. You wish for an increase neither of cold nor heat;
and you can sit out of doors till midnight without ever thinking
of colds or rheumatism; or you may sleep out at night, looking up to the moon
till you fall asleep, without a thought or sign of moon-blindness.
Indeed, during many months there is scarcely any dew.
Chapter 7.
Departure from the Country of the Bakwains -- Large black Ant --
Land Tortoises -- Diseases of wild Animals -- Habits of old Lions --
Cowardice of the Lion -- Its Dread of a Snare -- Major Vardon's Note --
The Roar of the Lion resembles the Cry of the Ostrich --
Seldom attacks full-grown Animals -- Buffaloes and Lions --
Mice -- Serpents -- Treading on one -- Venomous and harmless Varieties --
Fascination -- Sekomi's Ideas of Honesty -- Ceremony of the Sechu for Boys
-- The Boyale for young Women -- Bamangwato Hills -- The Unicorn's Pass --
The Country beyond -- Grain -- Scarcity of Water -- Honorable Conduct
of English Gentlemen -- Gordon Cumming's hunting Adventures --
A Word of Advice for young Sportsmen -- Bushwomen drawing Water --
Ostrich -- Silly Habit -- Paces -- Eggs -- Food.
Having remained five days with the wretched Bakwains,
seeing the effects of war, of which only a very inadequate idea
can ever be formed by those who have not been eye-witnesses of its miseries,
we prepared to depart on the 15th of January, 1853. Several dogs,
in better condition by far than any of the people, had taken up
their residence at the water. No one would own them; there they had remained,
and, coming on the trail of the people, long after their departure
from the scene of conflict, it was plain they had
"Held o'er the dead their carnival."
Hence the disgust with which they were viewed.
On our way from Khopong, along the ancient river-bed which forms the pathway
to Boatlanama, I found a species of cactus, being the third I have seen
in the country, namely, one in the colony with a bright red flower,
one at Lake Ngami, the flower of which was liver-colored, and the present one,
flower unknown. That the plant is uncommon may be inferred from the fact
that the Bakwains find so much difficulty in recognizing the plant again
after having once seen it, that they believe it has the power of changing
its locality.
On the 21st of January we reached the wells of Boatlanama, and found them
for the first time empty. Lopepe, which I had formerly seen a stream
running from a large reedy pool, was also dry. The hot salt spring
of Serinane, east of Lopepe, being undrinkable, we pushed on to Mashue
for its delicious waters. In traveling through this country,
the olfactory nerves are frequently excited by a strong disagreeable odor.
This is caused by a large jet-black ant named "Leshonya".
It is nearly an inch in length, and emits a pungent smell when alarmed,
in the same manner as the skunk. The scent must be as volatile as ether,
for, on irritating the insect with a stick six feet long,
the odor is instantly perceptible.
Occasionally we lighted upon land tortoises, which, with their unlaid eggs,
make a very agreeable dish. We saw many of their trails
leading to the salt fountain; they must have come great distances
for this health-giving article. In lieu thereof they often devour wood-ashes.
It is wonderful how this reptile holds its place in the country. When seen,
it never escapes. The young are taken for the sake of their shells;
these are made into boxes, which, filled with sweet-smelling roots,
the women hang around their persons. When older it is used as food,
and the shell converted into a rude basin to hold food or water.
It owes its continuance neither to speed nor cunning. Its color,
yellow and dark brown, is well adapted, by its similarity
to the surrounding grass and brushwood, to render it indistinguishable;
and, though it makes an awkward attempt to run on the approach of man,
its trust is in its bony covering, from which even the teeth of a hyaena
glance off foiled. When this long-lived creature is about
to deposit her eggs, she lets herself into the ground by throwing the earth up
round her shell, until only the top is visible; then covering up the eggs,
she leaves them until the rains begin to fall and the fresh herbage appears;
the young ones then come out, their shells still quite soft,
and, unattended by their dam, begin the world for themselves.
Their food is tender grass and a plant named thotona, and they frequently
resort to heaps of ashes and places containing efflorescence of the nitrates
for the salts these contain.
Inquiries among the Bushmen and Bakalahari, who are intimately acquainted
with the habits of the game, lead to the belief that many diseases prevail
among wild animals. I have seen the kokong or gnu, kama or hartebeest,
the tsessebe, kukama, and the giraffe, so mangy as to be uneatable
even by the natives. Reference has already been made to the peripneumonia
which cuts off horses, tolos or koodoos. Great numbers also of zebras
are found dead with masses of foam at the nostrils, exactly as occurs
in the common "horse-sickness". The production of the malignant carbuncle
called kuatsi, or selonda, by the flesh when eaten, is another proof
of the disease of the tame and wild being identical. I once found a buffalo
blind from ophthalmia standing by the fountain Otse; when he attempted to run
he lifted up his feet in the manner peculiar to blind animals.
The rhinoceros has often worms on the conjunction of his eyes;
but these are not the cause of the dimness of vision which will make him
charge past a man who has wounded him, if he stands perfectly still,
in the belief that his enemy is a tree. It probably arises from the horn
being in the line of vision, for the variety named kuabaoba,
which has a straight horn directed downward away from that line,
possesses acute eyesight, and is much more wary.
All the wild animals are subject to intestinal worms besides. I have observed
bunches of a tape-like thread and short worms of enlarged sizes
in the rhinoceros. The zebra and elephants are seldom without them,
and a thread-worm may often be seen under the peritoneum of these animals.
Short red larvae, which convey a stinging sensation to the hand,
are seen clustering round the orifice of the windpipe (trachea) of this animal
at the back of the throat; others are seen in the frontal sinus of antelopes;
and curious flat, leech-like worms, with black eyes, are found
in the stomachs of leches. The zebra, giraffe, eland, and kukama
have been seen mere skeletons from decay of their teeth
as well as from disease.
The carnivora, too, become diseased and mangy; lions become lean
and perish miserably by reason of the decay of the teeth.
When a lion becomes too old to catch game, he frequently takes to killing
goats in the villages; a woman or child happening to go out at night
falls a prey too; and as this is his only source of subsistence now,
he continues it. From this circumstance has arisen the idea that the lion,
when he has once tasted human flesh, loves it better than any other.
A man-eater is invariably an old lion; and when he overcomes his fear of man
so far as to come to villages for goats, the people remark,
"His teeth are worn, he will soon kill men." They at once acknowledge
the necessity of instant action, and turn out to kill him.
When living far away from population, or when, as is the case in some parts,
he entertains a wholesome dread of the Bushmen and Bakalahari,
as soon as either disease or old age overtakes him, he begins
to catch mice and other small rodents, and even to eat grass;
the natives, observing undigested vegetable matter in his droppings,
follow up his trail in the certainty of finding him scarcely able to move
under some tree, and dispatch him without difficulty. The grass may have been
eaten as medicine, as is observed in dogs.
That the fear of man often remains excessively strong in the carnivora
is proved from well-authenticated cases in which the lioness,
in the vicinity of towns where the large game had been unexpectedly
driven away by fire-arms, has been known to assuage the paroxysms of hunger
by devouring her own young. It must be added, that, though the effluvium
which is left by the footsteps of man is in general sufficient
to induce lions to avoid a village, there are exceptions; so many came about
our half-deserted houses at Chonuane while we were in the act of removing
to Kolobeng, that the natives who remained with Mrs. Livingstone
were terrified to stir out of doors in the evenings. Bitches, also,
have been known to be guilty of the horridly unnatural act of eating
their own young, probably from the great desire for animal food,
which is experienced by the inhabitants as well.
When a lion is met in the daytime, a circumstance by no means unfrequent
to travelers in these parts, if preconceived notions do not lead them
to expect something very "noble" or "majestic", they will see merely
an animal somewhat larger than the biggest dog they ever saw,
and partaking very strongly of the canine features; the face is not much like
the usual drawings of a lion, the nose being prolonged like a dog's;
not exactly such as our painters make it -- though they might learn better
at the Zoological Gardens -- their ideas of majesty being usually shown
by making their lions' faces like old women in nightcaps.
When encountered in the daytime, the lion stands a second or two, gazing,
then turns slowly round, and walks as slowly away for a dozen paces,
looking over his shoulder; then begins to trot, and, when he thinks himself
out of sight, bounds off like a greyhound. By day there is not, as a rule,
the smallest danger of lions which are not molested attacking man,
nor even on a clear moonlight night, except when they possess
the breeding storgh* (natural affection); this makes them brave
almost any danger; and if a man happens to cross to the windward of them,
both lion and lioness will rush at him, in the manner of a bitch with whelps.
This does not often happen, as I only became aware of two or three
instances of it. In one case a man, passing where the wind blew
from him to the animals, was bitten before he could climb a tree;
and occasionally a man on horseback has been caught by the leg
under the same circumstances. So general, however, is the sense of security
on moonlight nights, that we seldom tied up our oxen, but let them lie loose
by the wagons; while on a dark, rainy night, if a lion is in the neighborhood,
he is almost sure to venture to kill an ox. His approach is always stealthy,
except when wounded; and any appearance of a trap is enough
to cause him to refrain from making the last spring. This seems
characteristic of the feline species; when a goat is picketed in India
for the purpose of enabling the huntsmen to shoot a tiger by night,
if on a plain, he would whip off the animal so quickly by a stroke of the paw
that no one could take aim; to obviate this, a small pit is dug,
and the goat is picketed to a stake in the bottom; a small stone is tied
in the ear of the goat, which makes him cry the whole night. When the tiger
sees the appearance of a trap, he walks round and round the pit,
and allows the hunter, who is lying in wait, to have a fair shot.
--
* (Greek) sigma-tau-omicron-rho-gamma-eta.
--
When a lion is very hungry, and lying in wait, the sight of an animal
may make him commence stalking it. In one case a man,
while stealthily crawling towards a rhinoceros, happened to glance behind him,
and found to his horror a lion STALKING HIM; he only escaped
by springing up a tree like a cat. At Lopepe a lioness sprang
on the after quarter of Mr. Oswell's horse, and when we came up to him
we found the marks of the claws on the horse, and a scratch on Mr. O.'s hand.
The horse, on feeling the lion on him, sprang away, and the rider, caught by
a wait-a-bit thorn, was brought to the ground and rendered insensible.
His dogs saved him. Another English gentleman (Captain Codrington)
was surprised in the same way, though not hunting the lion at the time,
but turning round he shot him dead in the neck. By accident
a horse belonging to Codrington ran away, but was stopped by the bridle
catching a stump; there he remained a prisoner two days,
and when found the whole space around was marked by the footprints of lions.
They had evidently been afraid to attack the haltered horse
from fear that it was a trap. Two lions came up by night
to within three yards of oxen tied to a wagon, and a sheep tied to a tree,
and stood roaring, but afraid to make a spring. On another occasion
one of our party was lying sound asleep and unconscious of danger
between two natives behind a bush at Mashue; the fire was nearly out
at their feet in consequence of all being completely tired out
by the fatigues of the previous day; a lion came up to within three yards
of the fire, and there commenced roaring instead of making a spring:
the fact of their riding-ox being tied to the bush was the only reason
the lion had for not following his instinct, and making a meal of flesh.
He then stood on a knoll three hundred yards distant, and roared all night,
and continued his growling as the party moved off by daylight next morning.
Nothing that I ever learned of the lion would lead me to attribute to it
either the ferocious or noble character ascribed to it elsewhere.
It possesses none of the nobility of the Newfoundland or St. Bernard dogs.
With respect to its great strength there can be no doubt.
The immense masses of muscle around its jaws, shoulders, and forearms
proclaim tremendous force. They would seem, however, to be inferior in power
to those of the Indian tiger. Most of those feats of strength
that I have seen performed by lions, such as the taking away of an ox,
were not carrying, but dragging or trailing the carcass along the ground:
they have sprung on some occasions on to the hind-quarters of a horse,
but no one has ever seen them on the withers of a giraffe.
They do not mount on the hind-quarters of an eland even,
but try to tear him down with their claws. Messrs. Oswell and Vardon
once saw three lions endeavoring to drag down a buffalo,
and they were unable to do so for a time, though he was then mortally wounded
by a two-ounce ball.*
--
* This singular encounter, in the words of an eye-witness,
happened as follows:
"My South African Journal is now before me, and I have got hold
of the account of the lion and buffalo affair; here it is:
`15th September, 1846. Oswell and I were riding this afternoon
along the banks of the Limpopo, when a waterbuck started in front of us.
I dismounted, and was following it through the jungle,
when three buffaloes got up, and, after going a little distance,
stood still, and the nearest bull turned round and looked at me.
A ball from the two-ouncer crashed into his shoulder, and they all three
made off. Oswell and I followed as soon as I had reloaded,
and when we were in sight of the buffalo, and gaining on him
at every stride, three lions leaped on the unfortunate brute;
he bellowed most lustily as he kept up a kind of running fight,
but he was, of course, soon overpowered and pulled down.
We had a fine view of the struggle, and saw the lions on their hind legs
tearing away with teeth and claws in most ferocious style. We crept up
within thirty yards, and, kneeling down, blazed away at the lions.
My rifle was a single barrel, and I had no spare gun.
One lion fell dead almost ON the buffalo; he had merely time
to turn toward us, seize a bush with his teeth, and drop dead
with the stick in his jaws. The second made off immediately;
and the third raised his head, coolly looked round for a moment,
then went on tearing and biting at the carcass as hard as ever.
We retired a short distance to load, then again advanced and fired.
The lion made off, but a ball that he received OUGHT to have stopped him,
as it went clean through his shoulder-blade. He was followed up and killed,
after having charged several times. Both lions were males.
It is not often that one BAGS a brace of lions and a bull buffalo
in about ten minutes. It was an exciting adventure,
and I shall never forget it.'
"Such, my dear Livingstone, is the plain unvarnished account.
The buffalo had, of course, gone close to where the lions
were lying down for the day; and they, seeing him lame and bleeding,
thought the opportunity too good a one to be lost.
Ever yours,
Frank Vardon."
--
In general the lion seizes the animal he is attacking by the flank
near the hind leg, or by the throat below the jaw. It is questionable
whether he ever attempts to seize an animal by the withers.
The flank is the most common point of attack, and that is the part
he begins to feast on first. The natives and lions are very similar
in their tastes in the selection of tit-bits: an eland may be seen
disemboweled by a lion so completely that he scarcely seems cut up at all.
The bowels and fatty parts form a full meal for even the largest lion.
The jackal comes sniffing about, and sometimes suffers for his temerity
by a stroke from the lion's paw laying him dead. When gorged,
the lion falls fast asleep, and is then easily dispatched.
Hunting a lion with dogs involves very little danger as compared
with hunting the Indian tiger, because the dogs bring him out of cover
and make him stand at bay, giving the hunter plenty of time
for a good deliberate shot.
Where game is abundant, there you may expect lions in proportionately
large numbers. They are never seen in herds, but six or eight,
probably one family, occasionally hunt together. One is in
much more danger of being run over when walking in the streets of London,
than he is of being devoured by lions in Africa, unless engaged
in hunting the animal. Indeed, nothing that I have seen or heard about lions
would constitute a barrier in the way of men of ordinary
courage and enterprise.
The same feeling which has induced the modern painter to caricature the lion,
has led the sentimentalist to consider the lion's roar the most terrific
of all earthly sounds. We hear of the "majestic roar of the king of beasts."
It is, indeed, well calculated to inspire fear if you hear it
in combination with the tremendously loud thunder of that country,
on a night so pitchy dark that every flash of the intensely vivid lightning
leaves you with the impression of stone-blindness, while the rain
pours down so fast that your fire goes out, leaving you without
the protection of even a tree, or the chance of your gun going off.
But when you are in a comfortable house or wagon, the case is very different,
and you hear the roar of the lion without any awe or alarm.
The silly ostrich makes a noise as loud, yet he never was feared by man.
To talk of the majestic roar of the lion is mere majestic twaddle.
On my mentioning this fact some years ago, the assertion was doubted,
so I have been careful ever since to inquire the opinions of Europeans,
who have heard both, if they could detect any difference between
the roar of a lion and that of an ostrich; the invariable answer was,
that they could not when the animal was at any distance.
The n