CHAPTER IV.

I go to meet the Waggons.—Start for Erongo.—En route.—Damara features.—Gabriel in a Scrape.—The Mountain Erongo.—Chase Zebras.—Ghou Damup Huts.—A Black Coquette.—Return to Waggons.—Leave Otjimbinguè.—Mishaps.—How to encamp and water Oxen.—Arrive at Barmen, thence to Schmelen’s Bay.—Ride to Eikhams.—A doomed Sufferer.—Visit Jonker.—Conference with him.—Swartboy and Amiral.—Ride on to Rehoboth.—Umap’s Judgment.—Obtain Interpreters.—Return to Rehoboth.—Murder a Dog and pay for it.—Conference at Eikhams.—Legislating.—Proposed Conference.—Mules run quite away.—Schmelen’s Hope.—Dates.

In the last week of November I received the welcome news of Andersson’s arrival at Otjimbinguè with the waggons. The oxen had taken them up in five long stages from Scheppmansdorf, working by night and resting thirty-six hours between each pull. It was impossible for me to leave Barmen, as matters were now pending between me and the native chiefs, and I daily expected to hear some news of Jonker’s movements. On December 4th, Andersson rode over to me, and his and Hans’ performances with the unbroken oxen and two heavy waggons were loudly praised by everybody. All had gone well; Andersson had shot his first rhinoceros, my men had worked fairly, all except one waggon-driver, who, besides laziness and insolence, had been caught in the act of stealing to a great extent. He was a man I had determined to get rid of some time before, and I now only waited until I could engage somebody to take his place before I did so.

Nothing in particular transpired. I failed in learning more about Omanbondè, and returned to Otjimbinguè.

I went a few days before Andersson, as I wished to visit Erongo with Hans, before starting with the waggons. I left the mules at Barmen, and rode back on ride-oxen which Andersson had brought for me. The mules were troublesome creatures, requiring too much watching; they constantly tried to run away, and when off, their pace was so good that the men had runs of many hours before they could overtake and bring them back. They gave me great anxiety at first, but now I was quite tired of their tricks and hardly cared what became of them.

I arrived at Otjimbinguè about the 10th of December, and found the waggons drawn up on the cliff under a thick roofing of reeds, and with reeds stacked all round them. Every thing looked most perfectly in order, and I felt delighted with Hans’ management. My waggon gear had required much putting in order; the trek-tows or ropes to which the yokes were fastened were quite rotten; they were remarkably good pieces of rope when I bought them in Cape Town, so much so as to attract the critical eye of the sailors; but nothing of hemp or cotton stands this climate. I do not know why, but string, yarn, shirts, and thread all become useless after a short exposure to the air. Hans had therefore saved the hide of every ox that had been slaughtered, and had either dressed it to make reims and such-like things, or else twisted it up raw to make into a trek-tow. We still wanted one hide, which a gnu was kind enough to afford us. Hans wounded him after a long stalk; but though the animal got off for the time, he was steadily followed by Hans and John Allen for hours, till night-fall; they then slept on the track and took it up again the next morning; in a couple of hours they found the beast on three legs, at bay, under a stone, where he was shot and flayed. Gnu is literally the only hide, besides that of oxen and koodoos, that is fit for a trek-tow; almost all other animals have either too small and too thin skins, or else the opposite extreme, while gemsbok and zebra hides, which are of the right thickness, are the worst of leather.

I stopped a day at Otjimbinguè, and then rode off with Hans, John St. Helena, and Gabriel, to the mountain Erongo; it was partly an excursion to buy oxen and sheep for my journey, and partly to see the country, and that remarkable stronghold of the Ghou Damup. The drought was so great, no constant rain having fallen, that troops of Damaras were flocking in from all sides to the comparatively abundant water of the Mission station. One of the captains, who was in advance of the rest of his people, offered to go back with me as guide. He said he would take us to different werfts on our road, where we might barter as much as we liked, but that he dare not take us to Erongo, as his people and the Ghou Damup who lived there were always fighting together. I took a few articles of exchange, some of each of the different things that I had, and we all started in the afternoon.

Our native followers included two Ghou Damups, who were to introduce us to their relatives on Erongo, in the same way as the captain was to recommend us to his friends on the road.

We emerged from the broad valley of the Swakop, after three hours’ travelling, then scrambled along a very stony road, off-packed for a couple of hours in a water-course, and travelled on till day-break, when we came to the first Damara village, where, after a good deal of explanation and long waiting, we were tolerated and allowed some milk. Hans was my only interpreter. A little bartering took place here, and some sheep were bought. We then rode on down a broad grassy plain, bounded on the left by high mountains, and some more bartering took place at midday; our oxen on each occasion being put under the charge of the captain of the tribe, who had them watered and sent out to grass. I felt nervous at being amongst such numbers of armed ill-looking scoundrels as these Damaras are; their features are usually placid, but the least excitement brings out all the lines of a savage passion. They always crowded round us and hemmed us in, and then tried to hustle us away from our bags and baggage. They have an impudent way of handling and laying hold of every thing they covet, and of begging in an authoritative tone, laughing among themselves all the time. It is very difficult to keep them off; the least show of temper would be very hazardous among such a set of people, and it is hardly possible to amuse and keep them in order without a ready command of their language. I must say that these savages are magnificent models for sculptors, for they are tall, cleanly made, and perfectly upright; their head is thrown well back, and their luxuriant but woolly hair is clustered round an open forehead; their features are often beautifully chiselled, though the expression in them is always coarse and disagreeable. Their whole body shines with grease and red paint (if they can afford those luxuries), and though they are the dirtiest and most vermin-covered of savages, yet the richer class among them are well polished up, and present an appearance which at a short distance is very imposing and statuesque. They call clothes by the same name that they give to the scum of stagnant water; and I must say that, in personal appearance, these naked savages were far less ignoble objects than we Europeans in our dirty shirts and trousers.

We arrived at our guide’s werft in the afternoon, and I was thoroughly fatigued from heat and want of sleep, and a pretty long ride; but Hans kept watch and bartered perpetually. I could find no shade—there scarcely ever is shade in Damara-land—but dropped asleep for two or three hours in the full sun, which made me sick and poorly. Gabriel had recovered a little of the spirits that he had lost by travelling, and was now becoming impudent to the Damaras; he had a quick angry temper when annoyed, (having already tried to stab two of his fellow servants), and now that the Damaras were thronging round us and teasing us a great deal, I was in much alarm lest some imprudence of the lad’s should give them a pretext for an attack. If fighting had once commenced, we should have been as full of assegais as St. Sebastian ever was of arrows, and our guns would have availed but little. Just at this time, as we were all squatting in a ring, except Hans and John St. Helena, who were a little to one side and out of the way, some hungry native dogs paid our saddle-bags a visit, and gnawed at the leather. Gabriel took a rhinoceros-hide whip to frighten them off, and one snarled, but retreated to his master through the middle of the ring. Gabriel rushed, quite daft, after the dog, and gave a tremendous slash with the long supple whip at him, but he quite over-reached his aim, and the chief got the benefit of the cut full on his legs. Another instant and Gabriel was prostrate, while the chief, like a wild beast, glared over him; the muscle of every Damara was on the stretch. Every man had his assegai. My gun lay by my side, but I had sense enough not to clutch at it. I tried with all my power to look as steady and unconcerned as I could, and I must partly thank the sun which had baked my face into a set expression, for success. It was a fearfully anxious time to me, though it lasted but for a moment; gradually the savage’s grasp relaxed, the Damaras around fell back into _nonchalant_ attitudes, and at length the ferocious expression of the chief’s face somewhat smoothed down, and he rose and allowed the disconcerted Gabriel to sneak off, but kept the whip as a trophy, and possibly as a memento of wrongs received. When we were about to start, I made myself as civil as I could, and then gently took hold of the whip, and he allowed me to coax it out of his hand, so all ended well.

We had bought four or five oxen and a few sheep, which we intended to drive with us to Erongo, the broad table-mountain that now lay eight hours in front of us and bounded the horizon. It was five hours’ travel to the next water, but it took us much longer, for we had some hunting by the way. The heat became fearful, and fever was upon me; I could hardly sit the journey out, and was extremely glad to get to the bed of the Canna river, (a tributary of the Swakop) where an hour’s “crowing” and digging gave enough water for the oxen. After a good meal, as the evening was clear, we were again in the saddle, and pushed on for the mountains, the length of whose escarpment from east to west was fifteen miles. Its height by rough sextant measurement was 2800 feet. In one part of it there was a break, the mountains rising like parapets on either hand, and to this break we steered. It was pitch dark when we got there, and glad I was to lay my throbbing head to rest.

In the morning I dispatched the two Ghou Damups up the hill to tell the inhabitants of our arrival, and to request guides from them. I spent the morning in sleeping under huge overhanging slabs of limestone, enjoying to the full “the shadow of a broad rock in a thirsty land.” In the afternoon we rambled about trying to climb the hill, and to obtain a good view of the adjacent country. The rocks that composed Erongo were here in huge smooth white masses—often hundreds of feet without a fissure—the hill seemed built by some Cyclopean architect. Immense round boulders of the same stones were strewed here and there at its base. Our Ghou Damup returned in the evening with a promise that guides should be sent us early the next day. We put our articles of exchange into small packs, as men had to carry them up the steep mountain by the footroad. When cattle are sent up, they are driven round to a different and more distant entrance, which we did not care to visit. It is just practicable for oxen and no more.

[Illustration: TRAVELLER WITH PACK-OXEN.

Drawn on Stone by W. L. Walton. Printed by Hullmandel & Walton.]

We had a grand chase after some zebras in the early morn; a large herd had ventured into the recess in which we were encamped during the night, and as they returned smelt our fire and headed back. We heard them, and everybody ran to cut them off, some with guns and some without; the zebras made a round and galloped through a narrow gorge within arm’s length of those who were there. We could not carry our sleeping things up the mountain, as they were too heavy, but I took a small plaid. I was very unwell, but tried to battle off my fever. John St. Helena, Gabriel, and the Damaras, were left to watch the cattle below—while Hans and I and the Ghou Damup climbed for two hours over smooth slabs, most of the time without shoes for fear of slipping. The slabs over which the only path lay were disjointed from the main rock, and enormous fissures lay between them and it. When we travelled along the side that sloped towards these fissures it was to me very nervous work, for my feet would not grasp the rock, and if I had tumbled I should have explored much more of the mountain than I desired. The measurement of these slabs is not in feet but in hundreds of feet. Once on the top, the air was deliciously cool, and the boulders strewn about gave shade to sit under when we pleased. Leopards are very numerous here; they have nothing wild to feed on except baboons and steinboks—however the Ghou Damup have plenty of sheep and goats, and these the leopards attack. The summit of Erongo is a succession of ravines clothed with thorn-coppice, and a great deal of cactus; the effect is pretty, and I should much like to live there for summer quarters. Along the ravines, a few wild fig-trees grow. After a couple of hours of up and down walking, in which we started a magnificent leopard, we arrived at the chief’s werft, and I liked its situation and effect very much,—it was not in the open flat, like those of the Damaras, who fear the neighbourhood of any cover which might conceal an advancing enemy, but among trees. It was also built more durably. The Damara huts have but one room; they are like those I described at Walfisch Bay; these were rather complicated. The frame-work of the hut was generally made by growing trees, a clump of which was selected and their lower branches thinned; then the tops were bent down and _pleached_ together; the trees in the middle dividing the huts into two or even three rooms. The shape on the outside was like a snail-shell, the entrance faced to the leeward. Going into the chief’s hut, the entrance led straight into the main apartment, on either side of which were rooms, one of them for the chief’s wife. There were plenty of utensils about, such as wooden milk-bowls, pipes, and so on: there was a stuffed ottoman, and the whole place had a great appearance of comfort. The chief was a gentleman, and very courteous. Though Hottentot was his language, yet he spoke a little Damara, in which language we talked to him. He had a charming daughter, the greatest belle among the blacks that I had ever seen, and a most thorough-paced coquette. Her main piece of finery, and one that she flirted about in a most captivating manner, was a shell of the size of a penny-piece. She had fastened it to the end of a lock of front hair, which was of such a length as to permit the shell to dangle to the precise level of her eyes. She had learnt to move her head with so great precision as to throw the shell exactly over whichever eye she pleased, and the lady’s winning grace consisted in this feat of bo-peep, first eclipsing one eye and languishing out of the other, and then with an elegant toss of the head reversing the proceedings.

Her papa would sell me no oxen nor sheep; he insisted that he had none, though the place was full of tracks. But these people are very cunning to strangers, lest the stranger should think proper to steal their cattle. I very much regretted that I had not a good interpreter, as I had taken a fancy to the chief, and should have liked to have had a long conversation with him. He was not paramount over the mountain, but there were one or two more captains. Indeed, he assured me he could not give me guides over the hill, as his men dare not travel about it. I was obliged to return, for I had my time limited in many ways; else I should have liked to have fully explored the place. The fever that was on me increased hourly, and I was anxious to return. The night was bitterly cold, but I curled myself in my thin plaid round the fire, and got through the long hours somehow or other. The chief and I interchanged presents; we bought a few goats, and returned as we came. The rocky slabs looked more dangerous and slippery than ever, but no accident occurred. The next evening we slept at the werft, where Gabriel had distinguished himself. I felt wandering, and was delirious during most of the night, but could sit on ox-back well enough the next day—it was Christmas day, but I dared not stop to do it honour. We rode on five hours. Hans shot four zebras. The Damaras gave us milk in exchange for their meat, and that was our dinner. The next night I was again ill, but less so than before; and the ensuing day I rode through to Otjimbinguè: the distance between it and Erongo is about twenty hours’ travel. The result of my journey was, that I bought twenty-five oxen and thirty or forty sheep (four common guns had been bartered for twenty oxen), which was a material addition to my stock.

Andersson, who had had a slight fever like myself, was there in full vigour; he had been in an almost hand-to-hand combat with a lion, for the beast was on one side of a small bush, growling at him, whilst he was on the other. He shot the lion. A stirring night scene had occurred here, which Andersson witnessed. As the evening closed in, some people saw a lion kill a giraffe on the opposite side of the river: the alarm was given; everybody took firebrands; and it was quite dark when the mob arrived at the place. They ran unconcernedly up to the giraffe, and frightened the lion off it, who kept roaring and prowling about them close by, whilst they cut up the meat.

I determined to leave my cart at Otjimbinguè, as I had hardly mules enough to take it; neither could I spare Timboo to drive it. It was thatched over against the side of the Mission house; and Mr. Rath kindly took charge of the mule’s harness.

Two days after my return from Erongo, my first experience in waggon travelling began: I hated it from the first, and never became reconciled to it: I disliked its slowness, and the want of independence about it. In a rugged and wooded country long détours have to be made to avoid obstacles which ride and pack-oxen go across without difficulty. Roads have to be explored, bushes cut down, and the great stones rolled out of the way. The waggon is a crushing, cumbrous affair, and according to my ideas, totally unfitted for the use of an explorer, except in moderately level countries. I was never happier than when I left it behind, and took to the saddle.

The oxen were excessively wild, and seemed to have quite forgotten what they had learnt. It took us from an hour and a half to two hours to inspan the two waggons, notwithstanding we had so great a force of men, most of whom were acknowledged to be thoroughly acquainted with the management of oxen. We had a succession of mishaps the whole way to Barmen: it took us seven days to go the seventy miles; and my men had no light work of it. The rainy season was daily expected, and when it comes, violent torrents constantly sweep down the Swakop: this was unpleasant, as its bed had to be crossed perpetually, and it was invariably in the midst of its deep sand that the oxen came to a halt, and resolutely refused more work for that day. On one occasion the sticking-point was a steep sand-pitch, of about six feet high, out of the river-bed. The oxen drew the waggon till its fore-wheels reached the top of the pitch, and there it stuck. We tried everything, but the pull was entirely beyond their power; indeed, they were far too wild to exert themselves together. It really seemed as though we should remain fixed there, till the oxen had been thoroughly broken in by other means, or till the river swept us away; however, I recollected the manner in which our ancestors, in the times of the Druids, are said to have managed their large stones, and tried that plan on my waggon: that is to say, I lifted one wheel with the lifter, and had a flat stone put under it, then the other, and did the same to that, and so I continued raising the hind-wheels alternately, until the back end of the waggon was lifted up some three feet on two piles of stones. I had of course to be careful in making my buildings very firm, and in scotching the fore-wheels, lest the waggon should run back. I now built a causeway from the piles up to the fore-wheels, and lastly, put smooth stones not only under these, but also for a few paces in advance of them. That completed the task, which only required two hours to execute, for there were plenty of flat stones about, and I had ten or twelve men to carry them. I then inspanned a team, who trotted away with the waggon quite easily along my pavement.

The water was all “crow-water,” and my herd of oxen and sheep were all watered by hand. The way we set about choosing our place for encampment, and making it, was this: as the waggon still moved on, we kept a look-out along the river-bed, till some indications were seen of water, such as holes or small wells dug by Damaras, who had been camping about. If the yield of water appeared sufficient, and if there was any show of grass near, the waggons were outspanned. The place chosen was by a tree or at the side of some bush, where the requisites of a smooth ground to sleep upon, shelter from the wind, abundant thorn-bushes to make a sheep’s kraal of, and neighbouring firewood, were best combined. The Damaras were then sent with axes to cut thorn-bushes for the kraal; the white men went with spades to dig a couple of wells out, and make them broad and deep, and the cattle-watchers were off with the oxen and sheep to grass—two men to each flock or herd. They often fed a couple of miles away from us. Any idle hand fetched enough firewood to start two cooking fires, on one of which the iron pots for the dinners of myself, Andersson, Hans, and John Morta, were placed; on the other, those of the waggon-men. The Damaras had an iron pot between them, but they never had food given them till late, or else they stopped working, in order to eat it at once. Usually we had to slaughter something. The waggon-driver and the men’s cook generally killed the sheep; if an ox was wanted I shot him. Thus a great many different things were going on at the same time: the men were digging wells, slaughtering and cutting up, cooking at two fires; the Damaras were watching cattle, cutting thorn-bushes, and carrying firewood. When the wells were deepened sufficiently, a hollow trough was scooped out in the sand, and a piece of canvass laid on it; the oxen were then sent for; and while Damaras stood in the well with a wooden “bamboose,” a sort of bucket, ladling out water into the canvass, the oxen were driven up by threes to drink. But unless the ground is very porous the canvass sheet is hardly necessary. In this way one gives drink at the rate of about an ox a minute at each well—and sheep drink very fast indeed; it seldom required an hour to water my herd after the wells were once cleared out.

The thorn-branches for the kraal are laid round a circle, each alongside the other, in the direction of radii: the cut ends are inwards, and the broad bushy _heads_, not the _sides_ of the branch, make the outer circumference. Sheep and goats pack into so small a space, that their kraal has never to be more than twenty feet diameter; but they must have one, or else every kind of accident would occur, for they are by no means so domestic as oxen, and very stupid. If it were not for a kraal the hyenas, who serenade us every night, would be sure to do constant mischief, and scatter the flock over the country. Oxen, unless thirsty, or hungry, or cold, or in a restless, homesick state of mind, never leave the waggons, but lie in a group round the fire, chewing the cud, with their large eyes glaring in the light, and apparently thinking. We made no kraal for them. To continue: as the evening closes in the sheep are driven into their kraal, the door is bushed up, the Damaras get their meat, and make their own sleeping-places, and we get our dinner. Then I make a few observations with my sextant, which occupies an hour or so, and everybody else has some mending or some other employment. Timboo gets out my rug and sleeping things; the firewood is brought close to the fire; and we lie down in two large groups, Andersson, Hans, John Morta, and myself, round one fire, and the waggon-men and Damaras round the other, and all gradually drop off to sleep, the Damaras invariably being the last awake. It is a great mistake to suppose that “early to bed and early to rise” is the rule among savages. All those that I have seen, whether in the north or south, eat and talk till a very late hour. I grant that they get up early, but then they sleep half the day.

When we outspanned a few hours from Barmen, I rode on in the evening, very anxious to learn if anything new had been heard from Jonker. It was all very unfavourable. No actual attack had taken place, but the Damaras were scattered, and bands of them were prowling about their country. Not one of my Damaras would go on with me. A guide that I had picked up at Otjimbinguè refused to proceed. There was a growing fear among my own men; and Jonker’s previous personal threats to me, such as they were, were corroborated. I therefore determined to make some sort of demonstration which would bring him into better order: and in doing this I was confirmed by a rather humble request which I had received from him when I was at Barmen, that I would visit him at his place, from which I gathered, either that he intended to play some tricks upon me there, or else that he felt he had gone too far, and was penitent. In either case my presence would bring matters to a crisis, and get rid of that uncertainty and delay which would breed discouragement among my men, and be fatal to my scheme of travel. I wished to force some open admission from the man that his late conduct towards the missionaries and the Damaras had been infamous, and to do it in such a way that the Damaras should hear about it, and understand that I was in no mood either to abet or to obey the Hottentots.

Barmen was a bad place for me to encamp at, as grass was extremely scarce; so I moved on to Schmelen’s Hope, which was the Ultima Thule of discovery in Damara-land; there a strong ox-kraal was made, and the deserted and half pulled-down house put in order; and leaving Andersson in charge, I took Hans, John Morta, and one of the waggon-men, who spoke very good Dutch, and started for Jonker. I previously gave it out among the Damaras that I was gone to make peace between the Hottentots and them. I packed up my red hunting-coat, jack-boots, and cords, and rode in my hunting-cap: it was a costume unknown in these parts, and would, I expected, aid in producing the effect I desired. I started on the 16th of December. It was about a three days’ ride; but as none of us knew the road, we strayed a little, which made us longer. I saw a horrible sight on the way, which has often haunted me since. We had taken a short cut, and were a day and a half from our waggons, when I observed some smoke in front, and rode to see what it was: an immense blackthorn tree was smouldering, and from the quantity of ashes about, there was all the appearance of its having burnt for a long time: by it were tracks that we could make nothing of; no footmarks, only an impression of a hand here and there. We followed them, and found a wretched woman, most horribly emaciated; both her feet were burnt quite off, and the wounds were open and unhealed. Her account was that many days back she and others were encamping there; and when she was asleep, a dry but standing tree, which they had set fire to, fell down, and entangled her among its branches: there she was burnt before she could extricate herself, and her people left her. She had since lived on gum alone, of which there was vast quantities about; it oozes down from the trees, and forms large cakes in the sand. There was water close by, for she was on the edge of a river-bed. I did not know what to do with her; I had no means of conveying her anywhere, or any place to convey her to. The Damaras kill useless and worn-out people: even sons smother their sick fathers; and death was evidently not far from her. I had three sheep with me, so I off-packed, and killed one. She seemed ravenous; and though I purposely had off-packed some two hundred yards from her, yet the poor wretch kept crawling and dragging herself up to me, and would not be withheld, for fear I should forget to give her the food I promised. When it was ready, and she had devoured what I gave her, the meat acted, as it often does in such cases, and fairly intoxicated her: she attempted to stand, regardless of the pain, and sang, and tossed her lean arms about. It was perfectly sickening to witness the spectacle. I did the only thing I could: I cut the rest of the meat in strips, and hung it within her reach, and where the sun would jerk (i.e. dry and preserve) it. It was many days’ provision for her. I saw she had water, firewood, and gum in abundance, and then I left her to her fate.

We had a little shooting on our way, and I also had an opportunity of climbing a high hill, which is a very conspicuous landmark, whence I had a wonderfully fine view both of the country I had visited and also a glimpse of that which I hoped soon to explore. We scrambled over some very rugged and thorny ground for five hours, having quite lost our way, but making a cast, came down on the waggon-road at a place which was recognised by Hans as being three or four hours from Eikhams, Jonker’s village: it was an immense kraal, formed by a strong stockade, in which Katjimasha (a Damara chief) intrenched himself once when he and Jonker were allies, and robbed the other Damaras in company. Some years back they had dissolved partnership, and Katjimasha not feeling safe, absconded with all his men to Damara-land, of which he is now one of the principal chiefs: here I made my toilet, and refreshed my trusty ox, and in the cool of the evening rode down upon Eikhams. Hans knew the place, though not the road we had travelled to it, and pointed out a hill, round the corner of which the village lay. Even Ceylon (my ox) caught the excitement, and snuffed the air like a war-horse. We formed together, gained the corner of the hill; Hans recognised Jonker’s hut, and we, I cannot say dashed, but jogged right at it. An obstacle occurred, and happily was surmounted, which might have much disconcerted the assault: it was a ditch, or little ravine, that a torrent had made; it was rather deep, and four feet wide; but I was in hunting costume, and I am sure Ceylon knew it, for he shook his head, and took it uncommonly well; in fact, oxen, if you give them time, are not at all bad leapers. The others followed in style. So far was well. The huts of the place were all in front, and Jonker’s much the largest. Everybody saw us, and was looking at us. There is great etiquette in these parts about coming to a strange place, but we defied all that, and I rode and rode, until my ox’s head not only faced, but actually filled the door of the astonished chief. Conceive the effect. My Dutch was far from fluent, so I rated him in English, and after a while condescended to use an interpreter. He never dared look me in the face, as I glared down upon him from my ox. I then rode away in a huff, and took up my quarters in the village, and received in great state the humble messages which he sent me.

Now all this may seem laughable, but Oerlams are like children, and the manner which wins respect from them is not that which has most influence with us. To go a step higher,—to the burly broad-limbed Dutch colonists: I must relate a rather amusing instance of the views some acquaintances of mine among them entertained of the _physique_ of those high officials in England, whose enactments wielded their destiny. It was after the anti-convict agitation; and the friends I allude to expressed the utmost surprise, and even disbelief, at hearing that the then Colonial Minister was not a person of six foot stature, else how could he have dared to oppose their wishes. I inquired further, and found that report commonly painted his lordship as a kind of ogre or violent giant.

I desired Jonker to come to me with his chief people, and I lectured them soundly. We had three or four interviews. I spoke in English, and was interpreted both into Dutch and Hottentot. I saw clearly that I had made a favourable impression upon them. I insisted upon a full and ample apology being written to Mr. Kolbe, and an assurance given of future forbearance and justice being shown towards the Damaras. Jonker begged that Cornelius, the chief of the red people, should be called to his place, and such other people of importance in these parts as could be brought together; and he also mentioned his willingness to enter into any feasible plan for the establishment of better order in the country. The four chiefs hereabouts are Jonker and Amiral, who are Oerlams; Swartboy and Cornelius, who are pure Hottentots. Messengers were at once despatched to Cornelius and Amiral; and I, wishing to see Rehoboth, rode over there, and undertook to bring back Swartboy. His tribe is a large but not a strong one. A long time ago he was as bad as any of the rest, if not worse; but Sir James Alexander, when he came into the country, frightened him into order, and since that time missionaries have settled in his place, and obtained considerable influence over him. Swartboy’s present position was merely a passive one; but his character carried much weight with it, and I desired to make him a party to what Jonker and Cornelius should arrange together. I wished also to make him friendly to myself. The other chief, Amiral, an Oerlam, was far off. He had always treated the whites particularly well; but his son and heir and part of his tribe were said to have been robbing the Damaras of late. Neither Jonker nor any other Hottentot has supreme power in his tribe; for these people are most tenacious republicans, and insist upon a council of elders finally ratifying everything that is proposed. But Jonker is by far the most influential man in the whole country, and has his own way in everything. I believe that on great emergencies he dispenses with the deliberations of the council. I had a long conversation with Jonker upon those parts of Damara-land which he had seen. He had made two long excursions with a large body of men on each occasion: one by Erongo, to somewhere near Cape Cross; the other, in which he tried to reach the Ovampo, but was unable to proceed further than Omanbondè, on account of the exhausted state of his oxen. He and his men had brought back all kinds of wonderful and impossible reports about the lake Omanbondè; but the information which he gave me himself was, so far as it went, perfectly accurate. He spoke much of the native Bushmen that he found there, and who went freely among the Ovampo. This surprised me much, as I had no idea that the Hottentot race existed so far to the north. Jonker was perfectly familiar by report with the river that formed the further boundary of the Ovampo.

A very intelligent Englishman, a blacksmith, who lived at Rehoboth, was returning there at the time I proposed starting from Jonker’s, and I travelled in his waggon. A great part of the distance, we went through broad plains, bordered by high and distant hills, and full of grass, but hardly any water. The last stage, from water to water, was eleven hours’ travel, with a little pool from a previous storm in the middle; but this failed on our return. Rehoboth is situated on a bare white limestone rock, with a hot spring of mineral water gushing out—a situation anything but pleasant; yet the village is very orderly and neat.

I heard the full particulars of a late judgment and punishment by Umap, an independent chief of a very small tribe, though he had, at least, an equal claim with Cornelius to the chiefdom of the red people. Umap’s son became ill, and wasted away; the guilt was fastened on some neighbouring Bushmen, who were accused of charming away his life. Umap, therefore, had a pit dug, about five feet across, and seven or eight deep, and he made a bonfire in it; then he took the eight Bushmen and women, on whom his suspicion had fallen, and put them down alive into this pit, covered them over with hot earth, and made a second fire above their grave. The incident occurred before I landed at Walfisch Bay, but I had not had the story corroborated till now. Umap is not considered otherwise than as a very respectable Hottentot; but he is classed as one of the old school.

I met Swartboy travelling in his waggon, and we had a couple of hours’ conversation, in which I was very favourably impressed with him. He was a reasonable, good-hearted, but rather timid old man. He promised to use his influence, as far as he could, towards furthering any arrangements which would lead to peace in the country, and said he would meet the other captains at Eikhams at the time appointed. I was excessively annoyed to hear of the doings of the man I had discarded as being a confirmed bad character. He had been making an improper use of my name, declaring that I had sent him on some special message; and that unless he was well fed and taken care of, I should come with a complete army of men, &c. &c. He had frightened Swartboy’s people into great civility, and then stole cattle from them, and drove them off, while Swartboy’s people dared not punish him. He was said to be fifteen hours’ off, and, though I had but two days and three nights to spare, I was determined to ride after and catch him if I could. I am for flogging men for stealing, or attempt at murder; and this was a case that came within my code, so I borrowed oxen and was off. The night was too dark to start in, till about one o’clock in the morning, when I rode very fast in three stages to the place, which we were able to reach during the late afternoon of the next day. To my grief the fellow had trecked southwards in the morning, and was now many hours further; and had also stated his intention of travelling steadily on. My oxen were knocked up, and so were we; and overtaking him now was out of the question, hungry as we were. As soon as the pot was put on the fire, we all fell fast asleep, and forgot our dinner till the midnight chill awoke us. Trotting on ox-back for many hours is very severe work, if the animals as they usually do, require much urging. The creatures had eaten, and were fit to return on the forenoon of the next day; and we returned late in the night to Rehoboth.

I there obtained some valuable additions to my stock of oxen. Timmerman, the one I had just ridden, I bought off-hand: he was a tame, sturdy ox; I also got two couple of front oxen, and some hind oxen. These are the important ones of the team; and if good, the rest are easily made to do their work. I also hired a black waggon-driver, Phlebus, who knew nothing of his own language, but had been a trained Hottentot and Dutch interpreter; and Swartboy very kindly gave me his henchman, Onesimus, who, besides being by profession his life-guardsman, was his interpreter to the Damaras. These two were most accurate renderers of whatever they were told to say, as could be easily judged from the answers of the persons addressed. Timboo interpreted loosely from either English or Dutch into Damara, but he knew none of these languages well: he had a patois of his own. People at first find conversation by interpreters a bore; but after a little use it becomes no greater hindrance, as it is no greater delay, than dictating or writing a letter. Savages, who are naturally sententious, fall very readily into the system; and here, where the Hottentots and Damaras are so often brought into contact, every chief is well accustomed to it.

We were a good deal troubled for the want of water on our return; the little pool I mentioned was dried-up, and we had taken no water with us, for want of a vessel to carry it in. Our Damaras, who drove the cattle, were quite knocked up under the excessive heat, and a Ghou Damup, whose charge it was to carry the iron pot, lay down somewhere altogether exhausted. At night we arrived, and all of us drank water till we were quite ill. I continued resolving to drink no more, and then rewarded my resolution with one more mouthful. One cannot help drinking, the water seems to have no effect in quenching the thirst. The next day we rode but a short distance, as we had to wait for the two men who were missing, and they might be badly put to it. However, they never came. We thought the Ghou Damup had stolen the pot, and absconded in an old soldier’s coat, with which I had just rewarded his fidelity. There was considerable doubt if we should find water for the remainder of the journey; and, as our stomachs had been thrown out of order, I hardly liked to go so far without taking some: I could not think what to use as a water vessel, when my eye fell upon a useless cur of ours, that never watched, and only frightened game by running after them, and whose death I had long had in view. Dog-skin is the most waterproof of hides, so I despatched the cur and skinned him. His death was avenged upon me in a striking manner, for during the night a pack of wild dogs came upon us, scattered our sheep who were not well kraaled in, and killed them all. We traced the carcasses of some in the morning by the vultures that settled upon them. Two goats alone remained, which I had bought at Eikhams. Oddly enough, just as we were starting, the goats disappeared: we beat every bush for half an hour, but could not find them. At last we became tired of the search, and continued our journey, reaching Eikhams at night. To our wonder and amazement, as soon as we arrived, we met the faithful lost Ghou Damup, not only with the iron pot on his head, like a helmet, as he usually wore it, and red coat on his back, but also driving the identical goats we had lost, and which were under his peculiar charge. He had found them walking along the waggon spoor; they must have run on ahead before we first lost them, and then fallen into the hands of the Ghou Damup, who had himself passed us without knowing it. He felt he had done wrong in staying behind, but he said he was very tired. He had found some roots on the way, and lived on them. After his story, he brought me a whacking big stick, quite as a matter of course, that I should beat him for what he had done.

The water-skin I had made was not of much use, as the day was comparatively cool. Being fresh from the animal, it had to be used with the hair inside. It held the water very well, but gave a “doggy” taste to it. Swartboy and Cornelius were waiting for me; the latter was anything but a chief, either in manner or appearance. Nothing had been heard from Amiral; it was barely possible that any answer should have been received, owing to the distance.

Besides the three chiefs present, there were a great number of the influential men. I used as interpreters, Phlebus, my new waggon-driver, a missionary schoolmaster, and a Griqua: these all spoke Hottentot and Dutch perfectly, and the last two a little English also. I knew enough Dutch myself to be able to check any gross mistake in the rendering from English to that language, and the three interpreters were checks upon one another in the rest. The schoolmaster spoke; the others interrupted if he was not accurate.

We met together more than once. The meetings were long and very orderly, many people speaking, and all to the point. These men evidently felt they had gone much too far, and openly acknowledged that the system of robbing had done much mischief to themselves. No planting or sowing was going on; the Hottentots were idle and restless; there was no law in the country; and the Damaras harassed them with frequent retaliation. They begged me to suggest some system on which they could proceed; and also to draw up some laws which would at least meet the common cases of cattle robbing and murder. I was rather diffident of success; but in these wild parts a trained legislator is hardly to be expected to travel, and the best must be made of what materials are at hand; so being convinced that I had already gained a favourable footing amongst them, and that what I said would be attended to, I thought the matter well over, and made my _début_ as a lawgiver.

As every one of my new friends were robbers by profession it would never do to make much ado about theft, for if I did nobody would enforce the law. I therefore simply made theft finable at double the number of oxen stolen, together with a mulct upon the people of the werft to which the criminal belonged, if, as was usually the case, they concealed him. The spoor is so certain and honest a witness, and facts become so notorious, that there is little difficulty about questions of evidence. In this spirit I drew up a few laws which Cornelius and Jonker discussed, and to which they fully assented. I also endeavoured to restrain the jealousies and quarrels between the Oerlams and Hottentots by inducing Cornelius and Jonker to make a mutual agreement that criminals should be punished by the captain of the country where the crime was committed, and not, as heretofore, by his own captains.

The greater part of the Hottentots about me had that peculiar set of features which is so characteristic of bad characters in England, and so general among prisoners that it is usually, I believe, known by the name of the “felon face;” I mean that they have prominent cheek bones, bullet shaped head, cowering but restless eyes, and heavy sensual lips, and added to this a shackling dress and manner. The ladies have not universally that very remarkable development which was so striking in Petrus’ wife at Barmen. It is a peculiarity which disappears when one of the parents have European blood, while other points, more especially the absence of white at the root of the finger nails, remain after many crosses with the Dutch. Some few of the lads and girls have remarkably pleasing Chinese-looking faces.

Jonker is decidedly a talented man, and seems in full vigour though upwards of sixty years of age; his remarks were particularly shrewd, and his descriptions concise and graphic. He came out quite as a diplomatist in the long conversations I had with him, artfully trying to turn the conversation to his own ends. I could not make out that there were more than forty horses belonging to Jonker and his men; neither they nor any others would sell me one; they said they could not possibly spare them. Those I had seen were sorry, half-starved creatures, but with many good points about them. They were all from the country about the Orange River. I endeavoured to appoint a general meeting at Schmelen’s Hope for the Hottentot and Damara chiefs, where I would feed them well, and cement peace between them, as far as such an affair could do it. A time was fixed—about a fortnight thence—but it never came off. Everybody mistrusted his neighbours, and only Swartboy, who was my guest there for a couple weeks, was present. Kahikenè sent a very friendly message, and I was quite enough satisfied with what I had done. The missionaries were highly gratified at my good fortune, and I had great pleasure in sending to Mr. Kolbe the apology and the promise that I had made Jonker write to him.

Matters now looked more sunshiny. There were nearly 100 oxen in my kraal, and 60 or 70 sheep. My waggon-driver, who had stolen and who latterly had been insolent, I paid in articles of exchange and dismissed. Gabriel, at his own wish was left behind. A dozen Damaras agreed to go with us up the country, and Kahikenè, our friend, lay in our way. Hans and I rode short exploring excursions to find a road by which we could take the waggon out of the bed of the Swakop, and found one with great difficulty. Andersson then rode a wider sweep to see whether the country away from the Swakop looked open enough for a waggon. He went over a great deal of country, and returned with favourable news in five days, but he hardly saw a Damara, the land was so thinly peopled. We then made ready for our start, though the five mules had run quite away; they were traced through Barmen and Otjimbinguè to Tsobis, a distance of more than 100 miles, and there the chase was given up. I may as well anticipate my story and mention that they, or rather three of them, arrived at Scheppmansdorf; they had crossed the Naanip plain by instinct. The whole distance these runaways had travelled by themselves, viz., that from Schmelen’s Hope to Scheppmansdorf, is eighty-five hours’ travel very nearly, which at the rate of two and a half miles per hour gives 212 miles.

A few incidents occurred at Schmelen’s Hope; first a plague of caterpillars that covered the ground, then a swarm, but not an utterly destructive one, of locusts, and, lastly, a flight of migratory storks, who made great war upon the locusts. We were perpetually teased by some hyenas—they came most impudently in amongst us as their peculiar spoors showed (the hind and fore feet being of unequal size), but we never could catch them; at last the dogs overtook one on a bright moonlight night and held him at bay. I was asleep and was quite undressed when their sharp barks awoke me, and I had only time to put on my shoes. The dogs and hyena were on the other side of the Swakop, which here is exceedingly broad, about 300 yards, and by the time we had floundered through the sand to the other side the animal had retreated among the rocks and hakis thorns into the deep shade, but the dogs held well to him. I sorely regretted the leather trowsers that were left behind, as my bare legs were scarified and bleeding. I could not see the hyena, except one glimpse when he brushed against my leg. At last the dogs surrounded him in a patch of moonshine, four or five feet from where I was, and I put a bullet through his back bone. The chase and the skurry made as exciting a piece of sport as I ever witnessed. We had some rifle shooting at geese and ducks, and Andersson slew a pan—the African bustard, and probably the best flavoured and most tender game that exists: John Morta cooked it with the utmost skill. I had returned from Jonker’s on the 8th of February, and for three weeks we remained at Schmelen’s Hope, waiting for the Damara chiefs, breaking in the oxen and hoping for the rains. It is a charming place, and almost a sufficiency of game was killed to feed us.