CHAPTER VII.

Damara Helpmates.—Marriage Tie.—Caravan to Ovampo-land.—Yearly Traffic.—Otchikoto.—Improvised Chaunts.—Reach an Ovampo Cattle-post.—Archery Practice.—The Parent Tree.—We reach Ondonga.—Corn, Beans, and Palms.—Fruit-trees.—Native Beer.—Density of the Population.—Encamp by Nangoro’s Village.—Cannot obtain Pasturage.—Nangoro pays us a Visit.—Ovampo Belles.—We go to a Ball.—Description of Dances.—Charms and Counter-charms.—Nangoro’s Palace.—The Great River.—Prospects.—The King is crowned.—His lawful Successors.—The Queens’ Duties.—Ovampo Dentists.—Surgical Practice.

_May 22nd._—The Ovampo and ourselves were all in readiness, and we travelled for a couple of hours to a place of general rendezvous. I was very curious to see what our caravans would consist of, as it would give an accurate idea of the amount of trade and communication that goes on northwards from Damara-land. There are four of these caravans yearly,—two to Chapupa’s werft, and two that travel between those Ovampo and Damaras that severally live near the sea. Kahikenè had told me of these last; and I have since heard much fuller particulars about them.

We had fifteen ride and pack-oxen, eight slaughter; two cows, one calf, thirty sheep, and three goats. Goats are very useful to furnish leather, in case anything should be torn, or bags have to be made; they do not, however, travel quite so well as sheep.

We encamped as usual at night, letting the oxen graze about us, not dreaming of any accident, when a Damara, who was going through the trees, luckily came upon a lion, who was crouching at one of my ride-oxen, almost within springing distance. The lion, of course, decamped, as lions always do when they are discovered at their wicked practices; and we had the satisfaction of hearing him roar hungrily throughout the night. The cry of a lion as he walks about, when he is baulked of sport, is plaintive, and not unmusical; but I never hear them utter it in the menageries in England. It was quite a new sound to me when I first listened to it; and I should never then have guessed it had come from a lion unless I had been told so. Another very peculiar cry is that of the zebra; at a distance it sounds more like the roo-coo-cooing of a dove than anything else. We cut bushes and kraaled in the oxen during the dark; and as I had now only a small drove with me, and plenty of Damaras, I came to a resolution to make a kraal every night for the oxen, and so relieve myself of all anxiety about them. I had found it such a luxury both at Schmelen’s Hope and Okamabuti, to have kraals to drive the cattle safe into at night-fall, for, dismissing from our minds all care about them, we could then sleep undisturbed throughout the night. The men of my party were, besides myself and Andersson, John Allen, John St. Helena, and Timboo. I had five picked Damaras with four wives. The women are very useful, for they carry the men’s things, and make their huts, and cook for them, leaving the men unhampered and disengaged, ready to run and drive the oxen, and do anything that might be wanted. Damara women have not much to complain of: they are valuable helpmates; and divorce themselves as often as they like. The consequence is that the marital rule depends not upon violence nor upon interest, but upon affection. A wife costs a Damara nothing, for she “crows” her own pig-nuts, and she is of positive use, because she builds and plasters his hut, cooks his victuals, and carries his things when he moves from place to place. A Damara seldom beats his wife much; if he does, she decamps. This deference of husband to wife was a great difficulty in the way of discipline; for I often wanted to punish the ladies of my party, and yet I could not make their husbands whip them for me, and of course I was far too gallant to have it done by any other hands. They bored me to death with their everlasting talking; but I must own that there were many good points in their character. They were extremely patient, though not feminine, according to our ideas: they had no strong affections either for spouse or children; in fact, the spouse was changed almost weekly, and I seldom knew, without inquiry, who the _pro tempore_ husband of each lady was at any particular time. One great use of women in my party was to find out any plan or secret that the natives I was encamped amongst were desirous of hiding. Experience tells us of two facts: first, that women delight in communicating everybody else’s secrets to each other; secondly, that husbands and wives mutually tell one another all they know. Hence the married women of my party, whenever I staid near a werft, had very soon made out all the secrets of the inhabitants, which they retailed directly to their husbands, and they to me. It was a system of espionage which proved most effectual. A difficulty arising from women’s gossipings had occurred at Okamabuti, in which Chik behaved very well. My man Kambanya told his wife, who told other wives, who told their husbands, that the Ovampo intended to rob and murder me as soon as I arrived in their country. The story, by passing through so many hands, had acquired several circumstantial details, quite enough to make it worth inquiring into; so I, not knowing the origin of the tale, had Chik up in judgment before me, and taxed him with what I had heard. He protested his innocence; and then I said that to clear himself he must investigate the report, which he did in a most masterly manner; and traced the whole affair down to the unhappy Kambanya, who had fabricated the story to dissuade me from going, and from taking him to Ovampo-land, so Kambanya was whipped, and my friendship with Chik cemented all the stronger.

_May 23rd._—We rode on six hours, to the second place of rendezvous, Ootui, and there found all the Ovampo at their encampment, and parties of Damaras under every bush; and as we travelled on next day, I counted in our caravan 86 Damara women, nearly half of whom had yelling babies on their backs, and 10 Damara men. Our party consisted of 14, and the Ovampo of 24; making about 170 souls in all; 206 head of horned cattle were driven along, independently of my own, and were the result of Ovampo barter; and of these three-fourths were cows or heifers.

The 86 women went on various speculations,—some to get work in Ovampo-land, some to try and get husbands, others merely to sell their ostrich-shell corsets. Chik thought the caravan a little above the average; therefore, as there are altogether four caravans, we may consider 800 oxen as the annual export of Damara-land to the north; in exchange for which at least half of the Damaras are kept supplied with weapons and ornaments, the other half deriving theirs from the Namaquas and the missionaries to the south. The Damaras have no communication whatever with any other country, a broad land dividing them from the natives to the east, and the sandy tract by the sea-shore bounding them to the west.

_May 24th._—Arrived at Otchikango, the baboon-fountain, passing a very curious circular hole in the middle of a chalky patch of ground; it was exactly like a bucket, ninety feet across, and thirty feet deep: its name was Orujo: the sides were perpendicular, the bottom flat; and in the middle was a small well, down to which a person could easily scramble. All the ground about is limestone; and wherever there is a bare patch of it, numbers of circular holes, like miniature Orujos, are to be seen: generally they are about the size that would just admit a round lucifer-box; some a few sizes larger; several about a foot across; and in these trees are often growing just as they would in a flower-pot: those that are open make dangerous pitfalls. The effect is very curious. Mr. Oswell tells me that by Lake ’Ngami he has met with the same things.

_May 25th._—For the third time we left Otchikango, and travelled all day, till four P.M., passing over some very rugged ground and dense thorns, such as no waggon could get across: it was a pass over a low chain of hills. The encampments at night were very pretty. There were fires in all directions. Everybody was in the best of spirits. The Ovampo sang their manly chorusses with charming effect. We had no water, but were to reach a wonderful place, Otchikoto, on the morrow, at eleven,—which we did.

_May 26th._—Without the least warning we came suddenly upon that remarkable tarn, Otchikoto. It is a deep bucket-shaped hole, exactly like Orujo, but far larger, for it is 400 feet across: deep down below us lay a placid sheet of water, which I plumbed, leaning over from the cliff above, to the enormous depth of 180 feet, the same depth within five or six feet at four different points of its circumference. The water could be reached by a couple of broken foot-paths, to the top of one of which the oxen were driven to drink out of a trough, and a line of men handed up bambooses of water from one to another to fill it. There were small fish in the water; it is curious how they got there. I was told that fish were also to be found in the fountain-head of Otjironjuba, but I did not see them. There were infinite superstitions about Otchikoto, the chief of which was, that no living thing which ever got into it could come out again. However, John Allen, Andersson, and myself, dispelled that illusion from the savage mind, by stripping and swimming all about it, under the astonished gaze not only of the whole caravan, but also of quantities of Bushmen who lived about the place, and who came to greet the Ovampo, with whom they are on the best of terms.

Although the Ovampo live on the borders of a great river, yet none had ever been seen swimming. It appeared that alligators were so numerous in its waters that the natives feared to venture in. Chik had been extremely friendly up to the present time, but he now began to look with some suspicion upon us; the fact of our having swum about Otchikoto alarmed him—it looked like magic. Again my Damaras were always teasing the others by saying that we were cleverer than the Ovampo—a fact which these would not admit; but now it was proved beyond doubt, and the whole eighty-six females sang songs about us; one matron improvised, and all the others joined in a shrill chorus, like “tirri-tirri-tirri.” The self-esteem of the Ovampo had certainly been wounded. Chik at first ridiculed guns. He had seen guns in Benguela, but they must have been worthless affairs, and badly handled, for he laughed at any comparison between them and arrows; however, by degrees he became frightened at seeing what they really could do. There was a duck swimming about the water, not more than sixty yards off, but it looked very much further, as things below one always do, and I shot him very neatly with my little rifle: and again, the next day, Andersson was shooting some birds on the wing for specimens, and Chik became so frightened that he would not pick them up. We had great fun at Otchikoto; there was a cave there full of bats and owls, which we swam to and explored. The place swarmed with doves, and every now and then a white hawk swooped in amongst them. The Bushman captain fraternised with me, and we interchanged smiles and small presents.

_May 27th._—We travelled through the everlasting thorns and stones for nine hours, and off-packed at wells—wretched affairs, that we had to sit up half the night to clean and dig out.

_May 29th._—We came on ox spoors. Old Netjo, who is a family man, was beside himself with joy, and kept by my side pointing out all the indications of the neighbouring Ovampo. Passing a reedy, boggy fountain, we came an hour after to Omutchamatunda, which then was thronged with the Ovampo and their cattle. We were received very hospitably, and had a tree assigned us to camp under. The Ovampo gave us butter to grease ourselves with; but as it was clean, and as they also brought corn, I preferred eating it. There was a little game about, and we had some shooting, and also a bathe and a battue of ducks and partridges. No corn was grown here, neither were there any women; it was simply a cattle-post, and far from the corn country of the Ovampo.

_May 30th._—We passed the grave of the god, Omakuru; the Damaras all threw stones on the cairn that covered it, singing out Tati-kuru! Tati-kuru! (Father Omakuru). Came to Etosha, a great salt-pan. It is very remarkable in many ways. The borders are defined and wooded; its surface is flat and effloresced, and the mirage excessive over it; it was about nine miles in breadth, but the mirage prevented my guessing at its length; it certainly exceeded fifteen miles. Chik said it was quite impassable after the rainy season; and it must form a rather pretty lake at that time. We arrived late in the evening at another werft, on the south border of the grand flat, Otchihako-wa-Motenya, which appears to extend as a grassy treeless estuary between wooded banks the whole way hence to near the sea. The Ovampo here could not believe that I was able to express sounds by writing on paper, so I jotted down the names of a number of people, one after the other, and then read them out. I may as well give a few of them, as a guide to the rhythm of the language: Kangŭrà, Entongò, Epingà, Angèrò, Andāhè, Akoosà. I planned a shooting match; there were a great many naturalised Bushmen on the spot, and as all the Ovampo carry bows, I had a large archery meeting. I put up a sheep-skin (which gives a target of about three feet by two), and placed the men eighty paces from it. The prize was tobacco; there were twenty competitors, and each shot six arrows, so that 120 shots were made; but out of these 120 only _one_ hit the target fairly, and another brushed it. At very near distances, as from five to ten yards, the men shot perfectly. I have frequently given prizes to Damaras, Bushmen, and Ovampo, to shoot for, but I have only seen wretched archery practice, far worse than that of our societies in England. I suppose I have been unfortunate; but though I have taken some trouble to see good practice, not only with bows and arrows, but also with rifles, I have never witnessed performances that approached to the accuracy which shooters often profess to attain, although I certainly have seen lucky shots made, and indeed have made them myself. Andersson made a beautiful one at an ostrich in Damara-land. The bird was standing 280 yards from him, in a thick but rather low cover, which concealed its body, while its neck stood high, in bold relief. Andersson stalked up to within that distance, but as the creature was alarmed, and the ground immediately in front was exposed, he could not get nearer. He aimed, of course, high up the neck, intending to hit the body, but the elevation was a little too great, yet the aim proved so perfect, that he shot him dead through the neck.

Katondoka was sent on to tell Nangoro the news of the approach of the caravan, and to carry a message from me to him; and now came our hardest stage of all. It was nineteen hours’ actual travel, and told cruelly on the oxen; for they were weak, and had been badly off for grass on the road. We crossed the flat in four hours, keeping close by its easternmost margin; to the west it widened out, and stretched to the far horizon. Four hours from the north border of the flat we passed a magnificent tree. It was the parent of all the Damaras. The caravan stopped awhile, and the savages danced round and round it in great delight. We slept without water. In the morning we had some delays with the oxen, but travelled from early day-break, passing an empty well at eleven, and another a little later. We pushed through thick thorns the whole time, and had begun to disbelieve in Ondonga, when quite of a sudden the bushes ceased: we emerged out of them, and the charming corn country of the Ovampo lay yellow and broad as a sea before us. Fine dense timber trees, and innumerable palms of all sizes, were scattered over it; part was bare for pasturage, part was thickly covered with high corn stubble; palisadings, each of which enclosed a homestead, were scattered everywhere over the country. The general appearance was that of most abundant fertility. It was a land of Goshen to us; and even my phlegmatic waggon-driver burst out into exclamations of delight. Old Netjo’s house was the nearest, and he therefore claimed the right of entertaining me the first, and to it we went. He had two or three wives, and a most wonderfully large family, to every member of which he presented us. Then he took Andersson and myself over the establishment, and showed us his neat granaries and thrashing-floors, and his cocks and hens: the pigs, he regretted, had been sent out of the way; and lastly, Mrs. Netjo, No. 1, produced a dish of hot dough and a basin of sour milk, on which we set to work, burning our fingers as we pulled off large bits, which we dipped into the milk and swallowed. Then we went on to Chik’s house, who encamped us under a magnificent tree, and took our cattle under his charge. He told me that we were still a long day’s journey from Nangoro, and that the whole of our way there would lie through a corn country like this.

The harvest was now over; but the high stubble was still standing, and in it the oxen were allowed to feed. There was at this time hardly any other pasturage for them. The Ovampo have two kinds of corn; one is the Egyptian doura (or exactly like it), a sort of hominy; and the other is a corn that was new to me, but kindred, as I am told, to the Indian “badjera:” its head is cylindrical, and full of small gray seeds, which, though not larger than those of millet, are so numerous that each head contains a vast deal of nutriment. Both kinds of corn grow to much the same height, about eight feet; and in harvesting the reapers bend down the stalks and only cut off the heads. As we journeyed on the next day our surprise at the agricultural opulence of the country was in no way decreased. Chik told us a great deal about the tenure of the farms, and the way they dig them. Each farmer has to pay a certain proportion of the tobacco that he grows to Nangoro (tobacco is the chief circulating medium in Ovampo-land); but the corn can be planted without any drawback upon it. The fields are hoed over before each sowing season, and the corn planted. The manure from the cattle kraal is spread over the ground. They plant beans and peas, but adopt no systematic rotation of crops. The palms that grew here were of the same sort as those that I saw near Omanbondè; but the fruit of these was excellent, exactly like those of the Egyptian doum, while that of the others was bitter. The other trees that I observed were fruit trees: they were sparingly scattered over the country; but nearly all that I saw were of magnificent size, as large as those in any English park; their foliage was so dense and green that a real shade from the sun could be obtained, which never is the case in Damara-land, as the straggling stunted thorn, with its few shrivelled leaves, offers little more of a screen to its rays than an English tree in winter time. The fruits are of two kinds, one, which I never saw myself as it was not the season for it, was a kind of cherry, according to Timboo’s authority, who recognised at once all the produce of his own country (Masapa, by Moviza) here in Ovampo-land. The other is a very acid fruit, not unlike an apple in shape, colour, smell, and size, but with a stone in it. No other tree stands in the corn country of the Ovampo, or at least gives any feature to the landscape.

Ondonga, for that is the name of the land, is most uniform in its appearance; and I should think no stranger could recollect his way for any distance in it. I don’t know what we should have done here, if I had brought my waggons. We could never have taken them across the Ovampo fields, trespassing everywhere. The roads that the natives and we travelled were only pathways through the stubble; and we were particularly requested to keep to them. There was hardly any grass whatever, it was perfectly eaten up; and the Ovampo oxen had been sent away to distant cattle-posts on every side to get food. They were now being driven back in small herds to eat off the stubble upon the farms of their owners. By each homestead were five or six cows and a quantity of goats, very small, but yielding a great deal of milk. To give water even to these was a great difficulty, for the wells have to be dug twenty or thirty feet deep through the sandy soil before water is reached; and then it oozes out so slowly that only a very limited supply can be obtained. There had been great trouble in getting even my small drove of cattle watered; but Chik said that there were some vleys still left, which were Nangoro’s property; but to which he would probably allow my oxen to be driven. The Ovampo make a great fuss about water; if I wanted any to drink I had to buy it with beads. I was greatly pleased with the mutual good-will and cordiality that evidently existed among the Ovampo; they were all plump and well fed; even the blind old people, who are such wretched objects in Damara-land, were here well tended and fat. They looked shy at me; but Chik had been impressing upon me during the whole of our journey that his countrymen would all keep away until Nangoro had seen and approved of me, then they would come from all sides, and be as civil as possible. Chik introduced me to some of his most particular friends, who were very hospitable indeed, stopping us on the road, and giving us beer and biscuits, and such-like luxuries. The beer is not to be despised, although it is very thin and sweet; it is made from crushed corn and water, and takes two or three days before it is quite ready. I should think that a person must drink immense quantities before he could become intoxicated with it, but two or three tumblers full make one sleepy.

We travelled short stages, sleeping one night at the house of one of Chik’s friends who kraaled our oxen in. I was much afraid of their straying in the night, as if they did so they might cause all sorts of damage. I felt ill at ease in Ovampo-land, because I was no longer my own master. Everybody was perfectly civil, but I could not go as I liked, nor where I liked; in fact I felt as a savage would feel in England. My red coat was the delight of all the little boys and girls, plump merry little things, who ran after me shouting and singing as happy as could be. The Ovampo took much interest in seeing the oxen packed and ridden; they had never seen them used in that way before, and carefully examined the saddle-bags, and the way they were put on.

To gain some idea of the amount of the Ovampo population I counted the number of homesteads that I passed, and found that I saw, on an average, thirty in each hour’s ride, about three miles. From the undulating nature of the country, and from the number of palms, I considered that I could only see a mile and a half on either side of me, and therefore these thirty farms would take up a square of three miles in the side, or nine square miles; that is, in round numbers, three farms would occupy a square mile; allowing from thirty to forty souls in each farm, it gives a population of a hundred persons to a square mile. There is no town whatever in Ondonga, for the population is entirely rural.

Travelling on we passed a few Damaras who had lately arrived, from Omaruru to make amends to Nangoro for some thefts which the natives on that side of the country had been committing against the Ovampo. A little further we met four Ovapangari who had come south from the great river; they were frightened and suspicious, and Chik would not interpret for me to them.

At last a particularly fine clump of trees came in sight, and there Chik said we were ordered to stay, Nangoro’s palisading being only a quarter of a mile further. Here we off-packed, and made a kind of encampment. I pitched my tent, and we made as good a screen as we were able with the saddle-bags, and a few palm branches, but we had hardly any firewood, grass, or water. After a great deal of trouble I made Chik obtain for us the use of some wells close by, but we had to wait half the day till they were disengaged. Then I could find no place to send my oxen to feed. No kind offer was made of a stubble field, and Chik would not bestir himself much. He was always saying, “You must wait; Nangoro will come down and see you to-morrow, and then he will arrange everything;” but in the meantime my oxen were starving. The Ovampo kept away from us, and Chik was almost the only person that we were allowed to communicate with. We all felt uncomfortable, I never for a moment expected any attack from the Ovampo, but I had considerable misgivings that they purposely intended to keep my oxen in low condition that I might be less independent.

[Illustration: CAMP IN OVAMPO-LAND.

John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1853]

Ondonga is a very difficult place to get away from. Indeed if anything had occurred to make it advisable for me to force a quick retreat I hardly know how I should have done it. It would have been very questionable if we could have found our way back by Netjo’s house; for, as I mentioned before, the country is remarkably uniform, intersected with paths, and quite destitute of natural features to guide us. It is also slightly undulating, enough so to limit the view to a mile or two ahead. There was vley water, if we did not miss it, near to Netjo’s; and thence there remained a journey of twenty-one hours, two hours in Ondonga, and nineteen in the thorns and flats, without water; and as part of this lay over a bleak country the stage was too severe a one for any weak ox to endure. I found that some Ovampos had been tampering with my Damara cattle-watchers; one, a man whom I had taken from Chapupa’s werft, became impudent, and instead of driving my cattle to grass, kept them on a bare place for half the day; so I took active measures upon his back and shoulders, to an extent that astonished the Ovampo and reformed the man.

_June 6th._—Nangoro did not come, but sent us a little corn as a present, and requested us to fire off our guns, as he wished to hear what kind of noise they made. We had plenty of ammunition, and therefore amused ourselves with some rifle practice, which several Ovampo watched from a short distance with great interest.

_June 7th._—The oxen looked dreadfully thin. I began to fear that they would die, and then we should have to abandon our luggage and get back on foot—an exertion which I had little fancy for. However about midday Chik came in great excitement to tell me that Nangoro was on his way to me, so I smartened things and made ready for him. There was a body of men walking towards us, and in the middle of them an amazingly fat old fellow laboured along; he was very short of breath, and had hardly anything on his person. This was the king himself. He waddled up looking very severe, and stood in the middle of his men staring at us, and leaning on a thin stick very neatly shaped, that he seemed to carry about as a sceptre. I hardly knew what to do or what to say, for he took no notice of an elegant bow that I made to him, so I sat down and continued writing my journal till the royal mind was satisfied. After five or six minutes Nangoro walked up, gave a grunt of approbation, and poked his sceptre into my ribs in a friendly sort of manner, and then sat down. He could, I believe, understand Damara well enough, but he persisted in making Chik interpret for me into Ovampo. Nangoro had quite a miniature court about him; three particularly insinuating and well-dressed Ovampo were his attendants in waiting; they were always at his elbow and laughed immoderately whenever he said anything funny, and looked grave and respectful whenever he uttered anything wise, all in the easiest and most natural manner. I gave Nangoro the things that I had brought as a present for him, regretting excessively that I could spare him nothing better. In fact all my gilt finery was but little cared for by these people. It would look as _outré_ for an Ovampo to wear any peculiar ornament as it would for an Englishman to do so. The sway of fashion is quite as strong among the negroes as among the whites; and my position was that of a traveller in Europe, who had nothing to pay his hotel bill with but a box full of cowries and Damara sandals. I would have given anything for ten pounds’ worth of the right sort of beads; half of that value would have made a really good present to Nangoro, and franked me into the good graces of all his people. As it was he was rather sulky, for it is considered a kind of insult to an African chief to visit him, and make use of his country without commencing acquaintance by sending a tribute. He insisted upon my giving him a cow which I, or rather John Allen, had with me, besides the ox I had presented him with; and as there was no help for it, the cow went. We then had a short conversation; he looked at our guns and made us shoot with them, chatted a little, and then left us, saying that we were free to buy and sell with his people as much as we liked. Immediately crowds of the Ovampo, who had been gathering during the interview, poured down upon us, laughing and talking, but taking the greatest care not to touch our things, or to annoy us in any way. They were a merry set, and all of them dressed, or rather ornamented, very tidily. They wore a great quantity of beads and rings, but scarcely anything else except a kind of cartouche box, in which they kept a tuft of hair for painting and powdering themselves. The ladies were buxom lasses, having all the appearance of being good drudges. Their hair was worn short in front, but spread out behind into a broad fan. They were decidedly nice-looking; their faces were open and merry, but they had rather coarse features, and shone all over with butter and red pigment. They seemed to be of amazingly affectionate dispositions, for they always stood in groups with their arms round each other’s necks like Canova’s graces. They hummed sentimental airs all day long, swaying themselves about to the tune, and completely ruined the peace of mind of my too susceptible attendants. I began to buy corn and beans from them; the women brought small baskets full, often only a handful each, and were paid in beads. I had brought a bar of iron, half an inch thick, and four feet long, that procured me 100 pounds of corn at once. Timboo was the most successful bargainer; he sat in the middle among the beads, and twenty or thirty corn-selling damsels crowded about him. He was in his glory, chaffing and chattering in a most original patois all the day long, for he had picked up a few Ovampo words, and many of the Ovampo knew a little of Damara.

Every night Nangoro gives a ball, to which the _élite_ of Ovampo-land have a free _entrée_. He kindly sent me an invitation by Tippoo, that one of his three courtiers under whose protection we had been especially placed. As soon as night sets in, the guests throng together from all sides, and as the country is full of palms, one member of each party generally picks up a dried, broken-off branch, and lights it as a torch. It gives a brilliant flame, and the effect of the many lights on every side is particularly pretty. I went, about eight o’clock, down the sanded walk, between quickset hedgerows, that leads to Nangoro’s palisading. When we had entered it, we turned to the right, into the dancing-court, which was already filled with people who talked and flirted just as though they were in an English ball-room.

There was a man with a feeble guitar, or banjo, in one corner, and a powerful performer on the tom-tom in front of him. The first dance was remarkable as a display of dexterity, though I hardly think of elegance; it was undertaken by twelve or fourteen gentlemen, all the others looking on. The dancers were ranked in double files, and _dos-à-dos_; they then “_passéed_” from side to side with a tripping operatic step, but a wary and cautious eye. Every now and then one of the performers spun suddenly round, and gave a most terrific kick right at the seat of honour of the gentleman whom he then found in front of him. This was the dance; there was a great deal of dexterity shown both in delivering and avoiding the kick which, when successfully planted, hit with the force of a donkey’s hoof. I observed that the three courtiers danced very well and very successfully, indeed I would not have found myself _dos-à-dos_ with Tippoo for any consideration. The ladies applauded the dance most vociferously. After this came a promenade; we were all jammed together into a compact mass, and then stepped round and round the court to the sound of the tom-tom, tapping the ground with our feet in regular time. Dance number three was for the Bushmen, a large kraal of whom lay close by Nangoro’s palisading; they are his body-guard. This dance was entirely mimicry, either of animal steps or anything else they liked, and then a grand promenade closed the evening. I saw only thirty or forty of Nangoro’s wives there. I suppose that the others, being old, did not dance. They wear a copper armlet as a sign of distinction.

I had a difficulty with Nangoro, from not having complied with one of the principal Ovampo customs, on first entering the country. I did not like it, though if I had had a proper idea of its importance, I should, I suppose, have submitted with the best grace I could. The Ovampo are, as all blacks and most whites, very superstitious; a particular fear seems to possess them of a stranger charming away the life of a person he may happen to eat with. Why dinner time should be the season when the charm has most power I do not know; but such is considered to be the case. Accordingly, counter-charms are used; sometimes one is in fashion, sometimes another; now, Nangoro, when a young man, being a person of considerable imagination, framed a counter-charm for his own particular use, and this being of course taken up by the court, is at present the fashion of the whole of Ovampo-land, and it was to this counter-charm that I personally objected. The stranger sits down, closes his eyes, and raises his face to heaven; then the Ovampo initiator takes some water into his mouth, gargles it well, and, standing over his victim, delivers it full in his face. This ceremony having once been performed, all goes on smoothly, though I am inclined to think that, like vaccination, it requires to be repeated at intervals, as its effect dies away. Old Netjo yielded to my objections the day I dined in his house, as Chik had done when I first met him, and compromised the matter by rubbing butter between my eyes instead. But Nangoro’s mind was not so easily satisfied; he was harassed with suspicions; and though he invited me to drink beer at his palace, yet he contrived to be out of the way when the beer was brought in, and made the three courtiers sit down with me instead.

The plan of all the Ovampo houses is intricate, but Nangoro’s was a perfect labyrinth, and I could never find my way about it. Conceive walls of palisading eight or nine feet high, the poles of which are squared, smoothed, and driven in so close together, that it is only here and there that an arrow could be shot out between them. With these an irregularly circular place of about one hundred yards across is walled, one entrance being left, and to that entrance a broad double pathway leads, which is marked and divided by slight hedges. Within the outer circle other walls of palisading are placed in various ways; on one side a passage leads to the cattle kraal, in another place there is one leading to the dancing-court; passages lead to Nangoro’s rooms, to the granaries, to the threshing floors, to the women’s apartments, and to those of the attendants and of the three courtiers. I tried to sketch out the plan several times, but my head would never take it in.

Nangoro came to my encampment one morning for a chat, and to see the guns fired; we talked about the countries to the north, and of the great river, which was four long or five easy days’ journey ahead, but towards visiting which I could obtain no offer of assistance from him. He told me that the traders (Portuguese) who went there never crossed it, but that his people went to them and were ferried across by the Ovapangari. I had become quite familiar with this river by hearsay, as nearly every Ovampo had been there, and many Damaras also. There were some runaway slaves from Benguela who knew all the places marked in the usual maps, as Caconda, Bihe, Quinbumba, and so forth, and spoke of the houses of many stories with great wonder. The river runs from east to west, and with a very rapid current, so much so that boats never went up it, but only ferried from side to side; the breadth of the river was so great, that though a man’s shouting could be heard perfectly across it, yet his words could not. They said it was very deep, and full of alligators. It ran down to near the sea, and there it ended in a large pool, percolating, of course, like very many other large African rivers, through the sands. In this pool were great numbers of hippopotami, and the sand between it and the sea was so soft and treacherous that people could not walk over it. The names of the people who lived along it I have put down on the map at the places they were described to inhabit. The Damaras call them all “Ovampo.” The traders who go down to this river to barter have occasionally horses (their spoor, neigh, and gallop, all being mimicked to me). They bring brandy, beads, and assegais, to exchange for ivory and cattle. These traders must be very nearly black, because not only the colour of our skin but the straightness of our hair was a constant marvel to the Ovampo. They wondered if we were white all over, and I victimised John Allen, who had to strip very frequently to satisfy the inquisitiveness of our hosts. Nangoro positively refused to believe in the existence of any country which was inhabited by whites alone. He seemed to consider them as rare migratory animals of unaccountable manners but considerable intelligence, who were found here and there, but who existed in no place as lords of the land.

In all the inquiries that I made I had much trouble in worming out my information, for Nangoro was not at all communicative; and Chik, from some cause or other, became daily more distant and reserved. The subject of the oxen was always a sore one. Nangoro would not give me the use of his stubble-fields, or the right of watering my oxen at the wells before his own had drunk; the consequence was that they remained hanging about till noon, and then were driven off two or three miles to a piece of ground as barren as Greenwich Park in summer-time. They came home every evening thinner than they were the day before, and were now in a wretched state: the poor things were becoming very weak indeed, and we were perpetually talking over the chances of their breaking down on the return journey. It was exactly eighty hours actual travelling from Okamabuti, or allowing two miles and three quarters an hour, two hundred and twenty miles; of this, nearly sixty miles, partly choked with thorns, partly as bleak as Salisbury Plain, had to be travelled without water. This, of course, would be nothing to animals in good condition, and in a European climate; but it was a very different matter to me in Africa. I had been given to understand from the first that I must neither go back nor go on without Nangoro’s express permission; so that we were always under some anxiety. Of course I did all I could to please him; but still, either from want of consideration on his part or intentionally, things did not go on smoothly. Once when he was in a good humour I produced my theatrical crown, which I had not shown him before, and gave him a long discourse upon it. I told him that the great captains of our country usually wore a head-dress of that description, and that I therefore begged he would do me the favour of wearing it, as a memento of my visit to him. It had a contrivance behind for altering its size, and I stretched it to its full extent, for Nangoro’s head was like a bullock’s, and then put it on him with great solemnity, patting it down to make it sit tight. I must say that he looked every inch a king. The three courtiers were in ecstasy, and Nangoro himself gave every sign of self-satisfaction when I held up a looking-glass before him to show the effect; and afterwards carefully sketched him. Nangoro, in the first instance, had views with reference to me to which I confess I showed but little inclination; it is really a great drawback to African explorings that a traveller cannot become on friendly terms with a chief without being requested and teased to receive a spare wife or a daughter in marriage, and umbrage taken if he does not consent. It is, I know, very ungallant to betray tender secrets, and I would not do so on any account, if the charming Chipanga was ever likely to read this book; but I cannot help hinting at the subject, as it not only illustrates a phase of African life, but also indicates a direction in which any adventurous fortune-hunter may successfully push his addresses. For the benefit of those gentlemen I must explain how matters stand. Nangoro is king by virtue of his deceased first wife; by her he has no children. Chipanganjarà married that lady’s sister, who also is dead, leaving one daughter as heiress to the kingdom; and this daughter is Chipanga. She, greasy negress as she was, never forgave me the “spretæ injuria formæ.”

[Illustration: NANGORO, KING OF THE OVAMPO.]

I observed that some wild ducks and geese flew over our encampment every morning and evening, and begged Tippoo that I might be allowed to go to the water where they drank. We walked a couple of hours due east, and came to a long succession of vleys, where droves of Nangoro’s cattle were watered. There was no grass near, or else I should have insisted on encamping there. Beyond the vleys the thorns began again. Elephants come down at times in great numbers, and do much mischief to the corn. I fancy that game is very abundant in the neighbourhood of the great river, although there must be a great deal of cultivated ground adjacent to it. The course of the river is very long, and its stream is undoubtedly swift, because although a considerable slope might be allowed for from Nangoro’s werft northwards to its bed, still the height of the bed at that place above the sea can hardly be less than 3000 feet. To the westwards of north the river is formed by the confluence of three others; and in that country the Ovabundja live: it is marshy and flooded, and the people live in houses built on poles.

It is very remarkable that between Chapupa’s werft (where the waggons were left) and Nangoro’s, a distance of 220 miles, we had not crossed a single river-bed. There was the mark of one little rivulet about four feet wide, near Otchikoto, and that was literally all. I could obtain no answer from Nangoro as to whether or not I might proceed. Chik, who was our only medium of communication, put off everything with a “to-morrow.” We were so teased with his procrastination, that we christened him “Mahuka,” which was his favourite word. I went to Nangoro’s to see his wives at work, threshing corn. They make meal by pounding the grain in a stone mortar; everything was scrupulously clean and tidy. The granaries are in shape and manufacture exactly like our common bee-hives, though considerably larger, about four feet in diameter; these are placed with the point downwards, each in a rough frame-work on three legs, which raises it a foot from off the ground; into the bee-hive the grain is put, and the whole is thatched and plastered over: in Nangoro’s granary rows and rows of these were standing.

I have no fancy for their houses; they are so absurdly small. They are circular, five and a half feet across, and three feet high, with a conical thatched roof above all; the door is two feet high, and one and a half broad. Nangoro sleeps in the open air under a shed, as he is too fat to creep into one of these houses. Each hut is occupied by an entire family: a husband, a wife, and a few small children; and when the door is closed by the mat, and a cozy fire made in the middle of the hut, they must find the atmosphere particularly genial and sweet. Their utensils are remarkably neat; they have wooden cups, beer ladles, spoons, and so forth. I regretted much that I had not enough things of exchange to buy some of these which took my fancy. Their dagger-knives were creditably made, and very pretty. The knife was set into a wooden handle, and fitted into a wooden sheath; but both handle and sheath were in part covered with copper plating, and in part wound round with copper wire beaten square. There is plenty of copper in this country. The Bushmen brought us quantities of ore at Otchikoto.

Tippoo took me to see a blacksmith; but his bellows were scarcely larger than an accordian, and were worked in a similar manner. He was not a successful artificer. I had occasion to make inquiries for a professional gentleman, a dentist, as one of my teeth had ached so horribly that I could hardly endure it. He was employed at a distance; but I subsequently witnessed, though I did not myself undergo the exercise of his skill. He brought a piece of the back sinew of a sheep, which forms a kind of catgut, and tied this round the unhappy tooth; the spare end of the catgut was wound round a stout piece of stick, and this he rolled up tight to the tooth, and then prised with all his force against the jaw till something gave way. I saw the wretched patient sitting for the rest of the day with his head between his knees, and his hands against his temples.

The practice of surgery is rather rude among the Ovampo. Timboo had run a thorn very deeply into his hand; it did not remain in, but the prick caused a painful abscess, which pointed and partly broke. He applied to the Ovampo doctor, whose measures were simple: he squatted down, resting Timboo’s hand upon his knee, and then grasped a tough stick with both hands, with which he energetically kneaded down the swelling. Timboo endured the operation without a cry; but a black can bear anything.

There are no diseases in these parts except slight fever, frequent ophthalmia, and stomach complaints. I kept a bottle full of eye-water for the sufferers from ophthalmia, and stuck a feather into the bottom of its cork, with which I could paint the eyes of a whole row of patients one after the other.

[Illustration: OVAMPO WEAPONS, UTENSILS, ETC.]