CHAPTER I.

Determine to travel in Africa.—Motives for the Journey.—Preparations.—Stock in Trade.—An Emigrant Ship.—Arrival at Cape Town.—Dangers of the Road.—Change of Route.—Determine to proceed by Walfisch Bay.—Necessary Outfit.—Prospects of the Route.—Travelling Cortège.—Servants and Dogs.—Arrival at Walfisch Bay.—The Natives.—Extraordinary Mirage.—The Kuisip River.—Tobacco.—Ride-Oxen.—Disembarking.—Misadventure at Starting.—Perils of the Desert.—The ’Nara.—The Mission at Scheppmansdorf.

It was in 1849 that I determined upon a long travel in Africa. I had been there once; and then, landing at Alexandria, sailed or rode far beyond all the deserts, temples, and cataracts of Egypt, until I had fairly entered the “Soudan,” or country of the Blacks—that zone of the tropical vegetation, to which the name of Central Africa properly applies.

It was a tour hastily performed, but still sufficient to imbue or poison me with that fascination for further enterprise, which African tourists have so especially felt—a fascination which has often enough proved its power by urging the same traveller to risk his comfort, his health, and his life, over and over again, and to cling with pertinacity to a country which after all seems to afford little else but hazard and hardships, ivory and fever.

The motive which principally induced me to undertake this journey was the love of adventure. I am extremely fond of shooting, and that was an additional object; and lastly such immense regions of Africa lie utterly unknown, that I could not but feel that there was every probability of much being discovered there, which, besides being new, would also be useful and interesting. A large field lay open to any explorer who might wish to attempt the enterprise, and I chose to undertake the task.

The discovery that was made of Lake Ngami, in South Africa, gave a direction to my plans; and in the beginning of 1850 I fixed on the Cape as the point at which to enter Africa.

Many South African travellers and sportsmen were then in London; so that I received every information about the Bechuana country up to 300 or 400 miles north of the Orange River, which has been most successfully shot over by several of our countrymen; and through the very kind interest which several influential members of the Geographical Society took in my proceedings, I was readily enabled to start, perfectly _au fait_ as to what was known and what was wanted to be known in South Africa.

I now began my preparations in good earnest. Mr. Andersson, a Swedish gentleman and a naturalist, consented to accompany me; and to his perseverance and energy I have since been in the highest degree indebted. I collected together all the things I could think of, or that my friends were kind enough to suggest to me, as advisable to take.

I knew that at least the first part of my journey would have to be undertaken in waggons, in each of which I was assured four thousand pounds’ weight could be carried without risk across the country, so far as it had been penetrated, and therefore I was not necessarily stinted in the quantity of comforts I could carry from Europe; but as to the latter part of my expedition I was aware that the probability was that I should have to leave my waggons, and to travel either by boat or on the backs of some beasts of burden, or possibly even to walk, in which case I should have to content myself with far less luggage. I therefore collected my things together, on the principle of having them as light as possible, and in duplicate, the half of which I could leave _en cache_, when I had to quit my waggons, as a store to fall back upon should I happen to meet with robbery or accident.

In my perfect ignorance of what would be the most acceptable presents, and what were the best articles of exchange among the people I should meet with, I made a great collection of all sorts of ornaments, so that I had a store like a pedlar’s shop; for besides the more staple articles of guns, beads, knives, and gaudily printed calico, I bought or collected looking-glasses, accordions, hunting-coats, my friends’ old uniforms, burning-glasses, swords, gilt belts, immense bracelets, anklets, yards of picture chains for necklaces, Jews’-harps, mosaic rings; lastly, I explored the shops of Drury Lane for some theatrical finery, and a magnificent crown rewarded my search, which I vowed to place on the head of the greatest or most distant potentate I should meet with in Africa.

On the 5th of April, 1850, everything was prepared; I and my boxes were on board an East Indiaman; my last adieu was said, the very last line sent off by the pilot boat, and we were off for the Cape.

I had plenty of occupation on board ship in arranging my things, trying to learn the Bechuana language, practising with a sextant, and reading up books; so that the time passed as agreeably as can be expected in a sea voyage. It so happened that the ship in which I had taken my berth carried a number of emigrants—a fact which the careful agent only let us find out at the last moment—but I liked the crowding and bustle of it amazingly. The emigrants were not in the least in the way of the cabin passengers, for we, of course, had the poop to ourselves; and looking down from it, the deck had all the appearance of a crowded fair.

The emigrants were a squalid starved-looking set at first, but six weeks of rest and good feeding made a wonderful change in their condition; and as we sailed into the warm weather, and they could sit about the decks, they began to think of their personal appearance, and to wash and tidy themselves and put their clothes to rights. It was amusing to see how soon they divided themselves into cliques, and how high and mighty the party that sat under the left corner of the poop were, and how they looked down on those who sat elsewhere. Anyhow we had a pleasant sail, though some eighty days had passed before we were in Table Bay, and among the white stone and green-shuttered houses of Cape Town.

I intended to make a stay here of a few weeks, and then to sail on to Algoa Bay, whence my land journey was to have been commenced. I therefore took the earliest opportunity of presenting my letters of introduction, and I hoped that chance would soon throw much information, valuable to me, within my reach. I cannot sufficiently express how much kindness I received during my stay in Cape Town from all my acquaintance there. Everybody that I was thrown with seemed to take the greatest interest in my excursion, and I was referred and introduced to all those whose experience or information might be of any use to me.

I had not, however, arrived many days, when news came that materially affected my plans, and in the end gave them a somewhat different direction. The emigrant Boers—those Dutch colonists who had rebelled and run away from us—had broken out into open revolt. They invested the whole breadth of the habitable country, north of the Orange River, through which the direct way to Lake Ngami lies; and information was received that they had resolutely refused the passage of any stranger from the colony through their country; that they had already turned back some travellers, and that in all probability they would send a “commando” to take immediate and exclusive possession of the lake country. Sir Harry Smith, then Governor of the Cape, was so good as to put me in immediate possession of the news, and strongly dissuaded me from attempting to pass them, not because there was any risk to my life, but because after the tedious journey of six weeks or two months that led to their country, I should be met by these Boers, and almost to a certainty stopped, robbed, and turned back. There was no road to the left of these people, because they live up to the verge of the great Karrikarri desert, which takes up all the middle of South Africa, whilst any party taking the road to their right would have to pass in the first instance through the whole length of the Caffre country, and then to the fever-stricken neighbourhood of the west coast. In fact when the Boers chose to stop all communication from the Colony northwards, by the usual route, they were perfectly able to do so.

In a few days the intelligence that had before been received about the Boers’ intentions became more fully confirmed, and I had to think of other ways of getting to the tropical lands of South Africa. My first thought was to try the east coast, by Delagòa Bay, but that plan was instantly abandoned on account of the fearful unhealthiness of the district. Next I thought of the Mozambique, and of landing at Quillirmaine—a plan which was warmly advocated by a Portuguese gentleman of the highest standing at that place, Signore Isidore Pereira.

His father had crossed Africa from Mozambique to Benguela, and he himself had travelled much, and was in intimate relation with the chiefs of many of the surrounding parts. He chanced to be passing through Cape Town when I was there _en route_ to Rio. He took the kindest interest in my plans, gave me very full information upon what he knew of the interior, and subsequently furnished me with credentials to different Portuguese gentlemen at the more distant of their settlements. If I had been under no sort of tie, I should have slaved at learning Portuguese in Cape Town until the first ship sailed for Mozambique, and then have gone by her—but I was engaged to take my travelling companion by some means of conveyance, by which he could bring home a complete collection of the Natural History of the country; and Signore Pereira told me that no beasts of burden were used in the interior of Mozambique, but that all luggage was carried on men’s backs, and the traveller himself in a palanquin. This way of travelling would never have answered the object Andersson had in view, and I therefore did not feel justified in proposing it to him. At last a plan was suggested, and very strongly urged upon me, chiefly by some merchants, of sailing to Walfisch Bay, and thence travelling with waggons; this was the idea I finally adopted. I heard that though all was desert by the sea-coast between the Cape Colony and Benguela, yet that beyond this desert not only habitable but very fertile country was to be found. As to distance, Walfisch Bay was of all places most favourably situated for an excursion into the interior, and there were Missionary establishments already formed from near the coast to many days’ journey inwards. I was referred to a person who had carried on for some years a cattle trade between Walfisch Bay and the countries near it and the Cape. He had built a store at the Bay, and had had a vessel of his own there; sometimes he sent the cattle by her to St. Helena, sometimes he sold them to the whalers and guano ships which then were numerous, and often put in to him for provisions, and lastly he had driven large herds of them overland to the Cape—by a road to the _west_ of that Karrikarri desert, of which I spoke a few lines back, and to the _east_ of which the Boers and Bechuanas reside. All about this line of country the Namaqua Hottentots live, and up it some fifteen or twenty years ago Sir James Alexander was the first to explore a waggon-road. My informant, the cattle-trader, had himself seen nothing but arid worthless country, but he strongly stated his belief in the fertility of Damara-land, into which no white man had ever penetrated, but on the borders of which the Missionary stations are placed.

I then went to the agents and friends of the Missionary Societies to which those stations belonged, and the trader’s account was very fully confirmed by them. I was informed that the Damaras were considered by the Missionaries as a most interesting nation, and one well worthy of exploring, and that an expedition had long been contemplated by them to go through Damara-land, to see what field might lie open for their labours beyond it. I was very kindly assured of every assistance on their part, and my friends insisted on the great advantage that I should have, if the first stage of my journey was made in company with persons who had experience of the country and acquaintance with the language. Moreover, a novice had just arrived from Germany, and was waiting for the earliest opportunity of being shipped off to join his future fellow labourers. So far matters seemed promising enough; but one point was certain, that everything I might want must be taken from Cape Town, as nothing whatever but oxen could be bought where the Missionaries were.

Servants, waggons, and things of every kind, I must take with me, for the ship would land me on the desert sand—four tedious months’ journey from Cape Town; and when she sailed away all communication thence would, for at least a year, be at an end. Now if I had been going to travel in any of the usual ways, as with pack-horses, mules, camels, boats, and so forth, and with people I knew something about, I should not have had the least anxiety; but oxen were creatures I had no experience with, or of Cape half-castes either. Cape Town is proverbially the worst place in the Colony to get waggon drivers and leaders from, and I did not much fancy the undertaking; but still go somewhere I must, and I could think of no other alternative but Walfisch Bay. I therefore consoled myself with the idea that, if the whole affair broke down at the very first, Andersson and I would still find protection from the Missionaries, and that if on the other hand we could push on at all, we could probably get a great way. So I began resolutely to make my preparations.

I will try to put in a few words the whole of the information that I could get, and upon which I had to act. Walfisch Bay was perfectly desert, though traders had lived there. The nearest water was three miles off, and that in very small quantities. The nearest place where cattle could thrive was between twenty and thirty miles from the coast. This was the first Missionary station,—it was called Scheppmansdorf. Thence a journey of ten or twelve days inland over wretched country led to two other stations; they were the furthest; and all beyond them northwards was unknown. These last were in Damara-land; the Namaqua Hottentots lived between them and the Cape. A small pen and ink map was also shown me, but it was blotted and not very intelligible. No oxen could be bought until I arrived at the furthest stations. If I bought them from the Damaras they were untaught; if from the Namaquas taught oxen; the horse distemper was very severe, and no horse would live throughout the year. The Namaquas were always fighting with the Damaras, and it was very doubtful whether having travelled amongst the one tribe, the other would permit me to pass through their country. No money was used or known, nothing but articles of barter,—iron things for the most part among the Damaras, clothing and guns among the Namaquas. Lastly, that the great man of all the country, who could do what he liked, and of whom everybody stood in awe, was Jonker Africaner. It was said that he had a wholesome dread of the English Government, and unlimited respect for a large letter with a large seal, but that I had much better keep out of his way. This I think is a faithful summary of all that I could learn, and I soon set to work to act upon it.

Cape Town abounds with mules, small well-bred looking things, so I made inquiries and bought eight that had been well broken into harness, and were in good condition; I could only buy one pack-mule, which made my ninth. Mules had withstood the distemper so well in Bechuana country, that I trusted that at least half of them would live until my wanderings were ended. I then bought a large strongly-built cart for them to draw, and with it I purposed to make my first expedition up the country, carrying the heavy articles of exchange and bringing back oxen. I also bought two waggons—I believe the only two travelling waggons in Cape Town—for now-a-days the march of intellect has inspired even the ponderous Dutchmen, and they make good roads and use lighter vehicles. These were to be drawn by the oxen that I intended to buy in the country, and the mules, as I calculated, would be strong enough to pull them from Walfisch Bay to Scheppmansdorf, the first station, and thence to go on with the cart and articles of exchange. As there was no grass at Walfisch Bay, I took plenty of corn for my cattle, and a cask of good water for ourselves; the mules would drink at Sand Fountain, the place three miles off. I only took two horses, as I knew they would be victims to distemper before the important part of my journey commenced; and I bought but few additional articles of exchange for I hoped to obtain enough game to supply us with daily food, in addition to the few sheep we should take with us as slaughter-cattle. This was a sad mistake, as I found out afterwards. I was aware I should require at least sixty waggon oxen,—two spans of from fourteen to sixteen for each waggon. As Namaqua-land was out of my intended route, and as I had been so strongly advised not to go there, I took only enough clothing, &c., to buy some forty or sixty oxen there, and iron things enough to buy 150 from the Damaras; the surplus beyond what I immediately wanted being meant to cover the unavoidable expenses of travelling. I had, as I mentioned before from England, a large and indeed an expensive set of “presents” but my great error was in not taking far more things of _known_ exchangeable value, and in having taken those “presents” which the natives really cared very little for.

I felt quite sure that everything connected with my waggons was right, because I got more than one experienced friend to look them over; and having engaged my vessel, a schooner of some 100 tons, all except my servants were at length in readiness. I wanted, in the first instance, a headman—one who had travelled with oxen and knew the work—a man with a character that he could not afford to lose, under whom I could put every detail, and whom I would pay highly; but I could find no such person in Cape Town. I, however, engaged a Portuguese, John Morta, a most thoroughly trustworthy man, who, though he did not in the least fulfil the conditions I have just mentioned, was honest in the extreme, and with whom I received an excellent character; next, I hired Timboo, a black, liberated by one of our cruisers years ago, on capturing a slave-ship in the Mozambique. He, too, had an admirable character, and could do a little of everything. I do not think he would have joined me had he not been suspected of too active interference (on the loyal side) during the late anti-convict movement, which made it convenient for him to leave Cape Town for a season. There was some story about his having had a personal conflict with an influential leader of the opposition. Timboo was an excellent groom, and had some acquaintance with oxen. Besides him, I got John St. Helena, as waggon-driver, and his brother, for leader; John Williams, a square-built, impudent, merry fellow, and a right useful servant, was another leader; and a young scamp, Gabriel, who clung to my heels wherever I went in Cape Town, and who undertook to be agent in getting me dogs, horses, or anything else, begged so earnestly to go with me, that I enrolled him also in my corps. I still wanted a second waggon-driver, and at the last moment took a man out of a waggon-maker’s shop, though I did not much like him. As for dogs, although I was assured that I could find any number in the country, still I thought that a few Cape Town mongrels would be of no harm, and Gabriel brought me a whole pack for approval, at an uniform rate of 2_s._ 6_d._ each; one good dog was given to Andersson, and by entreating that a sentence of execution, which was passed on a fine-looking Newfoundland, for trespassing in the barracks, might be commuted to transportation for life, I obtained him also. I had a fancy to take a small dog which could be carried in the waggon all day, and would be wakeful at night, so I bought a spaniel, on which I lavished infinite affection, and who rejoiced in the name of Dinah.

Andersson was most busy in packing and arranging my things. I don’t know how I should have got through the work myself: the confusion seemed endless. At length, after we had been for three weeks or a month in Cape Town, the schooner was brought close into shore; the kicking mules were boated into her; the heaps of wheels, axletrees, &c., that belonged to the four vehicles of the Missionary and myself disappeared off the quay; all the boxes were on board, and, last of all, a cab-full of lamenting curs were embarked and sent away.

In the second week of August, 1850, we set sail, and on the eve of the 20th the low sandy shore of the land we were bound for came in sight. We rounded Pelican Point (on which pelicans were certainly sitting), and came into a wide bay, the shores of which were dancing with mirage, and presented the appearance of the utmost desolation. The store-house was a wretched affair to have received so grand a name—being a wooden shanty, about the size of a small one-storied cottage—which we could not for a long time see from on board our ship. The name of the bay, “Walfisch,” is Dutch, and means whale-fish: the sailors have corrupted it to Walwich, and, lastly, to Woolwich Bay, all which aliases may be found in different maps. There are a great many whales of the sort called “humpbacks” all about this coast; in coming here we passed through a “school” or herd. It was a magnificent sight; for the whole sea around us was ploughed up by them. We went up the Bay very cautiously, for it has never been properly surveyed; and different charts give most widely different plans of it. At night-fall, we anchored a mile or so off shore. We could see no natives; and not a sign of life anywhere, excepting in the immense flocks of pelicans and of flamingos and other sea-birds. And this, it appears, is the character of the entire coast between the Orange River and the Portuguese territory—a physical barrier which has saved the natives who live behind it from the infliction of a foreign slave-trade.

The books of sailing directions say that no fresh water can be obtained on the coast for the whole of that distance; but this is a mistake, as in Sandwich Harbour, some twenty miles south of Walfisch Bay, there is, at least at present, a copious supply.

In the morning we saw some savages about, and brought the schooner as close in shore as seemed safe, about one-third of a mile from the store-house; and at midday, the captain, the new Missionary, and ourselves landed. A row of seven dirty squalid natives came to meet us. Three had guns: they drew up in a line, and looked as powerful as they could; and the men with guns professed to load them. They had Hottentot features, but were of a darker colour, and a most ill-looking appearance: some had trousers, some coats of skins, and they clicked, and howled, and chattered, and behaved like baboons. This was my first impression, and that of all of us; but the time came when, by force of comparison, I looked on these fellows as a sort of link to civilisation. They were well enough acquainted with sailors; and the advent of a ship was of course a great godsend for them, as they bartered, for tobacco, clothes, and all sorts of luxuries, the goats’ milk and oxen which a few of them had; but they had been savagely ill-used more than once, and had occasionally retaliated. The captain of them soon made his appearance, and we became very amicable, and walked towards Sand Fountain, signs and smiles taking the place of spoken language. A letter was sent on to the Missionary at Scheppmansdorf, a cotton handkerchief and a stick of tobacco being the payment to the messenger for his twenty-five miles’ run. We passed over a broad flat, flooded in spring-tides, following the many waggon-tracks that here seemed so permanent as not to be effaced by years. We were surrounded by a mirage of the most remarkable intensity. Objects 200 yards off were utterly without definition: a crow, or a bit of black wood, would look as lofty as the trunk of a tree. Pelicans were exaggerated to the size of ships with the studding-sails set; and the whole ground was wavy and seething, as though seen through the draught of a furnace. This was in August, the month in which mirage is most remarkable here; it is excessive at all times, and has been remarked by every one who has seen the place. A year and a half later I tried on two occasions to map the outline of the Bay, which was then comparatively clear, but still the mirage quite prevented me; an object which I took as a mark from one point being altogether undistinguishable when I had moved to my next station.

After proceeding half a mile we came to the bed of the Kuisip, a river that only runs once in four or five years, but, when it does, sweeps everything before it. The bed was very broad, and hardly definable: there were marks here and there like the bottom of dried-up pools, where the ground has been made into a paste and afterwards cracked by the drought. Bushes (Dabby bushes I have always heard them called) not unlike fennel, but from eight to twelve feet high, grew plentifully; a prickly gourd, the ’Nara, with long runners, covered numerous sand-hillocks; and lastly, high shifting sand-dunes, on either side, completed the scene. We were so much out of condition, that the depth of the sand and the heat of the sun (at least, what we then thought was heat) gave us a good tiring, and we were heartily glad when Sand Fountain and its watering-place came in sight. My imagination had pictured, from its name, a bubbling streamlet; but in reality it was a hole, six inches across, of green stagnant water. It was perfectly execrable to taste, as many years had elapsed since the Kuisip last ran, and the water which drains from its damp sand to the hollow here, had become almost putrid, and highly saline. However, it was drinkable, and I was satisfied that with plenty of digging enough could be obtained to water my mules. Some years ago, when the trader lived here, the water was copious and very good; but all these sort of wells are very uncertain, even more so than the flow of the river on which they depend. We came back much as we went, and bought five ostrich eggs that were brought to us, giving seven sticks of tobacco for the lot, but this was a piece of extravagance, five being the proper price. Cavendish tobacco is that which has been nearly always bartered here; it is, as most smokers know, in sticks, each stick weighing about an ounce, and worth a penny. I had taken only a hundredweight with me; but five hundredweight would not have proved at all too much. We took the captain and an ill-looking Hottentot, who appeared to be a relation of his, on board, as the two were inseparable; and we employed ourselves in picking bush tics from our persons, for the bushes swarmed with them.

During the night a gun was heard on shore, and a fire was lighted, which proved to be made by the Missionary, Mr. Bam, and Stewartson, who had been a cattle-trader, but had lately lost everything, so that he, his wife, and children could not afford to return to Cape Town, but lived at the same station with Mr. Bam. We had sent the letter at midday; they received it about night-fall, and had ridden down on oxen in five hours. I had up to that moment no conception that oxen ever were, or had been, used as hacks, except possibly as a joke; but here were two fine-looking beasts, saddled, and with sticks through their noses, and a thin bridle fastened to the stick, and tied to a log of wood, and really they looked uncommonly well, and not at all out of their element.

We at once proceeded to disembark. The horses and mules had to swim: the sailors managed it rather clumsily, and nearly drowned one; but at last the creatures were all got on shore. Heavy packages had next to be landed in the dingy, and we got through a deal of work. In the evening I rode with Mr. Bam to the Hottentot kraal, by Sand Fountain, and of course listened with great interest to all he had to tell me of the country. With the Damaras he had little or no acquaintance. He was born in the Cape; had made several overland journeys; spoke much of the difficulty of travelling here, both from want of food and the badness of the road; and did not hold out to me the slightest encouragement as regarded my journey.

After sunset Mr. Bam returned on board to sleep, and to get a good substantial dinner there, which is not to be despised by a resident in these parts. I pitched my tent on shore, and slept in guard of the things. My men had worked with very good spirit through the day in landing them, though it was hard work, and they were wet all the time. Some slept on shore and some on board. I had a heavy spar, which lay on the beach, carried under the lee of the store-house, and picketed my mules and horses to it. The night was very chilly, damp, and windy, and the animals extremely restless. In the morning we found that my two horses had broken loose, and escaped. Timboo and John St. Helena went directly on their tracks; but as hours passed, and they did not return, I became much alarmed. On Mr. Bam’s coming on shore he advised me at once to send some natives with provisions after the men, as all was desert for forty miles and more round the Bay; the horses would never perhaps be overtaken by the men, who would possibly follow their tracks till they were exhausted, and so be themselves unable to return. I therefore sent two natives directly,—Mr. Bam interpreting for me—one with provisions, and the other with orders to go on after the tracks, and bring the animals back. Late in the afternoon my men made their appearance, looking sadly exhausted. They had gone very far, until they dared not go further; and then, intending to return by a short cut back, soon became bewildered among the sand-hills, and quite lost their course. They were on the point of going altogether wrong, when the mist cleared away, and showed them the sea and the Bay, with the schooner in it, in the far distance. After a long walk they came to the waggon-tracks, which took them to Sand Fountain, where they obtained water, and there the Hottentots met them.

The sailors had landed some of my things very carelessly indeed, dropping bags of flour into the sea. I made a great row, with much effect, about it. Some goats were driven down to sell. I bought two kids for a second-hand soldier’s coat, without the buttons: I had three dozen, and gave sixpence each for them at a Jew’s shop in Cape Town.

The horses were still missing. I sent the captain, “Frederick,” and another man, on their ride-oxen upon the spoor, for I became extremely anxious for their lives; there is not a blade of grass or a drop of water where they are gone. Frederick would not go unless I promised him and his friend a really respectable coat and a pair of trousers, to be paid if they brought the horses back—not otherwise. The agreement was made, and off they started. I wish I had brought more old clothes. Two coats and the etceteras are a sad drain upon my wardrobe. Another accident happened: my large white dog, that I begged from the barracks, took fright at the waggon-whips which we had landed, and were cracking: he ran straight away, and was never seen by us again. Flamingos gathered here in immense flocks; their flight is very curious; the long projecting neck in front, and the long legs behind, make them look in the distance more like dragon-flies than birds. I broke a pelican’s wing with a cartridge of swan-shot, and had a chase of a good mile after him before I came up: the Hottentots eat him. The Bay seems, from all accounts, to swarm with fish; but, though I have a small seine-net, I have no time now to set it.

_August 23._—The horses are found! They had strayed nearly forty miles (I saw their tracks long afterwards), and Frederick drove them to Scheppmansdorf for food and water, as it was much nearer for them than the Bay. He came to claim his apparel: I grudgingly enough gave him the only coats I could; they were the workmanship of Stultz: I had intended them for full-dress occasions at Missionary chapel-meetings, &c. But it could not be helped; and the greasy savages put them on, exulting in their altered appearance.

I have mentioned above the ’Nara, a prickly gourd, which grows here: it is the staple food of these Hottentots, and a very curious plant. In the first place, it seems to grow nowhere except in the Kuisip and in the immediate environs of Walfisch Bay; and, in the second place, every animal eats it; not only men, cattle, antelopes, and birds, but even dogs and hyenas. It is a very useful agent towards fixing the sands; for as fresh sand blows over, and covers the plant, it continually pushes on its runners up to the air, until a huge hillock is formed, half of the plant, half of sand. I do not much like its taste; it is too rich and mawkish.

The waggons that belonged to the Missionaries in the country came down to the beach to carry away their supplies, which had arrived by my ship. A vessel would have been chartered for them if I had not previously engaged it. They had arranged that one should be sent every two years to bring them their things of barter—clothes and groceries, and whatever else they might want; for the overland journey was found to be more expensive and less practicable, as it takes quite four months to reach Cape Town from Walfisch Bay, and the roads are so rocky that a waggon is seriously risked by the journey. The oxen, too, are probably much worn out, and, after all, only some 1500lb., net weight, can be carried in each waggon. On the other hand, a vessel from the Cape arrives in a week, and can, of course, carry anything. The trip costs about 100_l._: it would be much less if it was not that the prevalent winds make it a matter of some four weeks to return. Chance vessels hardly ever arrive now-a-days at Walfisch Bay: not one had come for more than a year.

All our things were at length landed; the wells at Sand Fountain yielded enough water for the mules; the storehouses both there and at the Bay were unlocked, and cleared out to receive my luggage; the waggons and cart were pieced together; and the schooner sailed away.