Lake Ngami/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
In the afternoon of the 20th of August we found ourselves safely anchored at the entrance of Walfisch Bay. From the prevalence of southerly winds, this voyage seldom occupies more than a week, but on the present occasion we were double that time performing it.
The first appearance of the coast, as seen from Walfisch Bay, is little calculated to inspire confidence in the traveler
VIEW OF WALFISCH BAY.
about to penetrate into the interior. A desert of sand, bounded only by the horizon, meets the eye in every quarter, assuming, in one direction, the shape of dreary flats; in another, of shifting hillocks; while in some parts it rises almost to the height of mountains.
Walfisch Bay has been long known to Europeans, and was once hastily surveyed by Commodore Owen, of the Royal Navy. It is a very spacious, commodious, and comparatively safe harbor, being on three sides protected by a sandy shore. The only winds to which it is exposed are N. and N.W.; but these, fortunately, are not of frequent occurrence. Its situation is about N. and S. The anchorage is good. Large ships take shelter under the lee of a sandy peninsula, the extremity of which is known to navigators by the name of "Pelican Point." Smaller craft, however, ride safely within less than half a mile of the shore.
The great disadvantage of Walfisch Bay is that no fresh water can be found near the beach; but at a distance of three miles inland abundance may be obtained, as also good pasturage for cattle. I mention this circumstance as being essential to the establishment of any cattle-trade in future.
During the time the guano trade flourished on the west coast of Africa, Walfisch Bay was largely resorted to by vessels of every size, chiefly with a view of obtaining fresh provisions. At that period, certain parties from the Cape had an establishment here for the salting and curing of beef. They, moreover, furnished the guano-traders, as also Cape-Town, with cattle; and had, in addition, a contract with the British government for supplying St. Helena with live-stock. The latter speculation proved exceedingly lucrative for a time, and a profit of many hundred per cent, was said to be realized. From some mismanagement, however, the contract for St. Helena was thrown up by the government, and the parties in question were fined a large sum of money for its non-fulfillment. Shortly afterward the establishment was broken up, and for several years the house and store remained unoccupied; but they are now again tenanted by people belonging to merchants from Cape-Town.
Walfisch Bay affords an easy and speedy communication with the interior. By the late explorations of Mr. Galton and myself in that quarter, we have become acquainted with many countries previously unknown, or only partially explored, to which British commerce might easily be extended. Walfisch Bay and the neighborhood abounds with fish of various kinds: at certain seasons, indeed, it is much frequented by a number of the smaller species of whale, known by the name of "humpbacks," which come here to breed. Several cargoes of oil, the produce of this fish, have been already exported.
At the inner part of the harbor, a piece of shallow water extends nearly a mile into the interior, and is separated from the sea, on the west side, by Pelican Point. This lagoon teems with various kinds of fish, and at low water, many that have lingered behind are left sprawling helplessly in the mud. At such times, the natives are frequently seen approaching; and, with a gemsbok's horn affixed to a slender stick, they transfix their finny prey at leisure. Even hyænas and jackals seize such opportunities to satisfy their hunger.
Walfisch Bay is frequented by immense numbers of waterfowl, such as geese, ducks, different species of cormorants, pelicans, flamingoes, and countless flocks of sandpipers. But, as the surrounding country is every where open, they are difficult of approach. Nevertheless, with a little tact and experience, tolerably good sport may be obtained, and capital rifle-practice at all times. Hardly any of the water-fowl breed here.
Every morning, at daybreak, myriads of flamingoes, pelicans, cormorants, &c., are seen moving from their roosting-places in and about the bay, and flying in a northerly direction. About noon they begin to return to the southern portion of the bay, and continue arriving there, in an almost continuous stream, until nightfall.
The way in which the "duikers" (cormorants and shags) obtain their food is not uninteresting. Instead of hovering over their prey, as the gull, or waiting quietly for it in some secluded spot, like the kingfisher, they make their attacks in a noisy and exciting manner. Mr. Lloyd, in his "Scandinavian Adventures," has given a very interesting account of the manner in which the Arctic duck (harelda glacialis, Steph.) procures its food; and, as it applies to the birds above named, I can not do better than quote him on the subject.
"The hareld is a most restless bird," says he, "and perpetually in motion. It rarely happens that one sees it in a state of repose during the daytime. The flock—for there are almost always several in company—swim pretty fast against the wind; and the individuals comprising it keep up a sort of race with each other. Some of the number are always diving; and, as these remain long under water, and their comrades are going rapidly ahead in the mean while, they are, of course, a good way behind the rest on their reappearance at the surface. Immediately on coming up, therefore, they take wing, and, flying over the backs of their comrades, resume their position in the ranks, or rather fly somewhat beyond their fellows, with the object, as it would seem, of being the foremost of the party. This frequently continues across the bay or inlet, until the flock is "brought up" by the opposing shore, when they generally all take wing and move off elsewhere.*****'Fair play is a jewel,' says the old saw, and so, perhaps, thinks the hareld; for it would really appear as if it adopted the somewhat curious manœuvre just mentioned to prevent its companions from going over the ground previously."
The day after our arrival we moved our small craft within half a mile of the shore, and, as soon as she was safely anchored, we proceeded to reconnoitre the neighborhood. The first thing which attracted our attention was a mirage of the most striking character and intensity of effect. Objects, distant only a few hundred feet, became perfectly metamorphosed. Thus, for instance, a small bird would look as big as a rock, or the trunk of a tree; pelicans assumed the appearance of ships under canvas; the numerous skeletons and bones of stranded whales were exaggerated into clusters of lofty houses, and dreary and sterile plains presented the aspect of charming lakes. In short, every object had a bewildering and supernatural appearance, and the whole atmosphere was misty, tremulous, and wavy. This phenomenon is at all times very remarkable, but during the hot season of the year it is more surprising and deceptive. At an after period Mr. Galton tried to map the bay, but this mirage frustrated all his endeavors. An object that he had, perhaps, chosen for a mark, became totally indistinguishable when he moved to the next station.
On the beach we found a small house, constructed of planks, in tolerable preservation, which at high water was completely surrounded by the sea. This had originally been erected by a Captain Greybourn for trading purposes, but was now in the possession of the Rhenish Missionary Society. It was kindly thrown open to our use, and proved of the greatest comfort to us; for at this season the nights were bitterly cold, and the dew so heavy as completely to saturate every article of clothing that was exposed.
We had not been many minutes on shore when some half-naked, half-starved, cut-throat-looking savages made their appearance, armed with muskets and assegais. Nothing could exceed the squalid, wretched, and ludicrous aspect of these people, which was increased by a foolish endeavor to assume a martial bearing, no doubt with a view of making an impression on us. Without noticing either their weapons or swaggering air, and in order to disarm suspicion, we walked straight up to them, and shook hands with apparent cordiality. Our missionary friend, Mr. Schöneberg, then explained to them, by signs and gestures, that he wished to have a letter conveyed to Mr. Bam, his colleague, residing at Scheppmansdorf, some twenty miles off, in an easterly direction. It soon became apparent that they were accustomed to similar errands; for, on receiving a small gratuity of tobacco on the spot, with a promise of further payment on their return, they set out immediately, and executed their task with so much dispatch, that, before the dawn of next morning, Mr. Bam had arrived.
In the mean time, we made an excursion to a place called Sand Fountain, about three miles inland. On our way there we crossed a broad flat, which in spring tides is entirely flooded. In spite of this submersion, the tracks of wagons, animals, &c., of several years' standing, were as clear and distinct as if imprinted but yesterday! At Sand Fountain we found another wooden house, but uninhabited, belonging to Mr. D, a partner of Mr. M. The natives had taken advantage of the absence of the owner to injure and destroy the few pieces of furniture left behind, and leaves of books and panes of window glass were wantonly strewn about the ground. We next visited the so-called "fountain," which was hard by; but, instead of a copious spring—as the name of the place gave us reason to expect—we found, to our dismay, nothing but a small hole, some five or six inches in diameter, and half as many deep; the water, moreover, was of so execrable a quality as to make it totally undrinkable. However, on cleaning away the sand, it flowed pretty freely, and we flattered ourselves that, by a little care and trouble, we might render it fit for use, if not exactly palatable.
After having thus far explored the country, we returned to the vessel. On the following morning, at daybreak, we set about landing our effects, mules, horses, &c., which was not done without some difficulty. As soon as the goods belonging to the missionary should have been removed to Scheppmansdorf, Mr. Bam most considerately promised to assist us with his oxen. In the interval—as there was no fresh water on the beach—we deemed it advisable to remove our luggage, by means of the mules, to Sand Fountain, where we should, at least, be able to obtain water—though bad of its kind—and be better off in other respects.
On the fourth day, the schooner which had conveyed us to Walfisch Bay set sail for the Cape, leaving us entirely to our own resources on a desert coast, and—excepting the several missionary stations scattered over the country—at several months' tedious journey by land to the nearest point of civilization.
On returning to Sand Fountain, our first care was to sink an old perforated tar-barrel in a place dug for the purpose; but instead of improving the quality of the water, it only made matters worse! Fortunately, we had taken the precaution to bring with us from the Cape a "copper distiller;" but the water, even thus purified, could only be used for cooking, or making very strong coffee and tea. Strange enough, when the owner of the house resided here, water was abundant and excellent; but the spot where it was obtained was now hidden from view by an immense sand-hill, which defied digging.
At Sand Fountain we had the full benefit of the sea-breeze, which made the temperature very agreeable, the thermometer never exceeding seventy-five degrees in the shade at noon. The sand, however, was a cruel annoyance, entering into every particle of food, and penetrating our clothes to the very skin. But we were subjected to a still more formidable inconvenience; for, besides myriads of fleas, our encampment swarmed with a species of bush-tick, whose bite was so severe and irritating as almost to drive us mad. To escape, if possible, the horrible persecutions of these bloodthirsty creatures, I took refuge one night in the cart, and was congratulating myself on having at last secured a place free from their attacks. But I was mistaken. I had not been long asleep before I was awakened by a disagreeable irritation over my whole body, which shortly became intolerable; and, notwithstanding the night air was very sharp, and the dew heavy, I cast off all my clothes, and rolled on the icy-cold sand till the blood flowed freely from every pore. Strange as it may appear, I found this expedient serviceable.
On another occasion, a bush-tick, but of a still more poisonous species, attached itself to one of my feet; and, though a stinging sensation was produced, I never thought of examining the part, till one day, when enjoying the unusual luxury of a cold bath, I accidentally discovered the intruder deeply buried in the flesh, and it was only with very great pain that I succeeded in extracting it, or rather its body, for the head remained in the wound. The poisonous effect of its bite was so acrimonious as to cause partial lameness for three following months!
The bush-tick does not confine its attacks to men only, for it attaches itself with even greater pertinacity to the inferior animals. Many a poor dog have I seen killed by its relentless persecutions; and even the sturdy ox has been known to succumb under the poisonous influence of these insects.[1]
Sand Fountain, notwithstanding its disagreeable guests, had its advantages. Almost every little sand-hillock thereabout was covered with a "creeper," which produced a kind of prickly gourd (called by the natives naras), of the most delicious flavor. It is about the size of an ordinary turnip (a Swede), and, when ripe, has a greenish exterior, with a tinge of lemon. The interior, again, which is of a deep orange color, presents a most cooling, refreshing, and inviting appearance. A stranger, however, must be particularly cautious not to eat of it too freely, as otherwise it produces a peculiar sickness, and great soreness of the gum and lips. For three or four months in the year it constitutes the chief food of the natives.
The naras contains a great number of seeds, not unlike a peeled almond in appearance and taste, and being easily separated from the fleshy parts, they are carefully collected, exposed to the sun, dried, and then stored away in little skin bags. When the fruit fails, the natives have recourse to the seeds, which are equally nutritious, and perhaps even more wholesome. The naras may also be preserved by being boiled. When of a certain consistency, it is spread out into thin cakes, in which state it presents the appearance of brown moist sugar, and may be kept for almost any length of time. These cakes are, however, rather rich and luscious.
But it is not man alone that derives benefit from this remarkable plant, for every animal, from the field-mouse to the ox, and even the feline and canine race, devour it with great avidity. Birds[2] are also very partial to it, more especially ostriches, who, during the naras season, are found in great abundance in these parts.
It is ill such instances, more especially, that the mind becomes powerfully impressed with the wise provisions of nature, and the great goodness of the Almighty, who even from the desert raises good and wholesome sustenance for man and all his creatures.
"By his bounteous hand,
God covers earth with food for man and beast,
Insect and bird; yea, the poor creeping worm
Partakes the Creator's bounty."
In this barren and poverty-stricken country, food is so scarce that, without the naras, the land would be all but uninhabitable. The naras serves, moreover, a double purpose; for, besides its usefulness as food, it fixes with wonderful tenacity, by means of extensive ramifications, the constantly shifting sands; it is, indeed, to those parts what the sand-reed (ammophila arundinacia) is to the sandy shores and downs of England.
The naras only grows in the bed of the Kuisip River, in the neighborhood of the sea. A few plants are to be met with at the mouth of the Orange River, as also, according to Captain Messum, in a few localities between the Swakop and the Nourse River.
The general aspect of the country about Sand Fountain is very dreary and desolate. The soil is entirely composed of sand. The vegetation, moreover, is stunted in the extreme, consisting chiefly of the above-mentioned creeper, a species of tamarisk tree (or rather bush), and a few dew-plants. Consequently, the animal world, as might be expected, did not present any great variety. Nevertheless, being an enthusiastic sportsman, and devoted to the study of natural history, I made frequent short excursions into the neighborhood, on which occasions my spoils consisted for the most part of some exquisitely beautiful lizards, a few long-legged beetles, and some pretty species of field-mice. Once in a time, moreover, I viewed a solitary gazelle in the distance.
A few miles from our encampment resided a small kraal of Hottentots, under the chief Frederick, who occasionally brought us some milk and a few goats as a supply for the larder, in exchange for which they received old soldiers' coats (worth sixpence a piece), handkerchiefs, hats, tobacco, and a variety of other trifling articles. But they infinitely preferred to beg, and were not the least ashamed to ask for even the shirt on one's back.
These men were excessively dirty in their habits. One fine morning I observed an individual attentively examining his caross, spread out before him in a sunny and sheltered spot. On approaching him, in order to ascertain the cause of his deep meditation, I found, to my astonishment and disgust, that he was feasting on certain loathsome insects, that can not with propriety be named to ears polite. This was only one instance out of a hundred that might be named of their filthy customs.
As Frederick the chieftain, and a few of his half-starved and Chinese-featured followers, were one day intently watching the process of our packing and unpacking divers trunks, I placed alongside of him, as if by accident, a small box-alarum, and then resumed my employment. On the first shrill sound of the instrument, our friend leaped from his seat like one suddenly demented; and during the whole time the jarring notes continued, he remained standing at a respectful distance, trembling violently from head to foot.
As no draft cattle could be obtained in the neighborhood, nor, indeed, within a less distance than from one hundred and fifty to two hundred miles, Mr. Galton started on an excursion into the interior with a view of obtaining a supply.
His "turn-out" was most original, and would have formed an excellent subject for a caricature. From both ends of the cart with which he made the journey protruded a number of common muskets and other articles intended for barter. The mules harnessed to the vehicle kept up a most discordant concert, viciously kicking out to the right and left. The coachman, bathed in perspiration, kept applying his immense Cape-whip to their flanks with considerable unction, while a man sitting alongside of him on the front seat abused the stubborn animals with a burst of all the eloquent epithets contained in the Dutch-Hottentot vocabulary. Two sulky goats, tied to the back of the cart, were on the point of strangling themselves in their endeavors to escape. To complete the picture, Galton himself, accompanied by half a dozen dogs of nondescript race, toiled on cheerfully through the deep sand by the side of the vehicle, smoking a common clay pipe.
On my friend's arrival at Scheppmansdorf, however, he found it necessary to adjourn his trip into the interior for a few days.
In the mean time, as Mr. Bam's oxen had arrived at Sand Fountain, I busied myself with conveying the baggage to Scheppmansdorf; but, on account of its great weight and bulk, and the badness of the road, this occupation lasted several days. In the last trip we had so overloaded the wagons, that, after about three miles, the oxen came to a dead stand-still. The two teams were now yoked to one of the vehicles, and it proceeded on its way without further interruption, while I remained alone in charge of the other. It was agreed that some of the men should return with the cattle on the following night; but, on arriving at Scheppmansdorf, they and the oxen were so exhausted that it was found necessary to give both the one and the other two days' rest. For this delay I was not at all prepared. My small supply of water had been exhausted on the second day, and I began, for the first time in my life, to experience the misery of thirst. I was, however, fortunately relieved from my embarrassing situation by the arrival of a Hottentot, who, for a trifling consideration, brought me an ample supply of water.
At length all the baggage was safely deposited at Scheppmansdorf, where I rejoined Mr. Galton.
He had not, I found, been many days at that place, when a magnificent lion suddenly appeared one night in the midst of the village. A small dog, that had incautiously approached the beast, paid the penalty of its life for its daring. The next day a grand chase was got up, but the lion, being on his guard, managed to elude his pursuers. The second day, however, he was killed by Messrs. Galton and Bam; and, on cutting him up, the poor dog was found, still undigested, in his stomach, bitten into five pieces.
The natives highly rejoiced at the successful termination of the hunt; for this lion had proved himself to be one of the most daring and destructive ever known, having, in a short time, killed upward of fifty oxen, cows, and horses. Though he had previously been chased, he had always escaped unscathed, and every successive attack made upon him only served to increase his ferocity.
I regretted much being prevented from taking part in so interesting and exciting an event, but, on the other hand, I felt pleased that my friend had thus early had an opportunity of exercising his skill on one of the most noble and dreaded of the animal creation. My turn was yet to come.
Scheppmansdorf—Roëbank—Abbanhous—as it is indifferently called—was first occupied as a missionary station in the year 1846, by the Rev. Mr. Scheppman, from whom it takes its name. It is situated on the left bank of the River Kuisip, and immediately behind rise enormous masses and ridges of sand. The Kuisip is a periodical stream, and is dependent on the rains in the interior; but, from the great uncertainty of this supply, and the absorbing nature of the soil, it is seldom that it reaches Walfisch Bay, where it has its estuary. On our arrival, the Kuisip had not flowed for years; but when it does send down its mighty torrent, it fertilizes and changes the aspect of the country to a wonderful degree. Rain falls seldom or never at this place, but thirsty nature is relieved by heavy dews. Fresh water and fuel, however, two of the great necessaries of life, are found in abundance.
Sandy and barren as the soil appears to the eye, portions of it, nevertheless, are capable of great fertility. From time to time, Mr. Bam has cultivated small spots of garden ground in the bed of the river; but, although many things thrive exceedingly well, the trouble, risk, and labor were too great to make it worth his while to persevere. A sudden and unexpected flood, the effect of heavy rains in the interior, often lays waste in a few minutes what has taken months to raise.
The principal trees thereabouts are the ana and the giraffe-thorn (acacia giraffœ); and the chief herbage, a species of sand-reed, which is much relished by the cattle when once accustomed to it, but more especially by horses, mules, and donkeys, which thrive and fatten wonderfully on this diet.
During our stay at Scheppmansdorf we were the constant guests of Mr. and Mrs. Bam, but we felt almost sorry to trespass on a hospitality that we knew they could ill afford, for it was only once in every two years that they received their supplies from the Cape, and then only in sufficient quantities for their own families. The genuine sincerity, however, with which it was offered overruled all scruples.
Mr. Bam had long been a dweller in various parts of Great Namaqua-land.[3] His present residence, however, in this its western portion, was of comparatively recent date. Although he had used every effort to civilize and Christianize his small community, all his endeavors had hitherto proved nearly abortive; but as we become acquainted with the character of the Namaquas, who are partially-civilized Hottentots, the wonder ceases, and we discover that they possess every vice of savages, and none of their noble qualities. So long as they are fed and clothed, they are willing enough to congregate round the missionary, and to listen to his exhortation. The moment, however, the food and clothing are discontinued, their feigned attachment to his person and to his doctrines is at an end, and they do not scruple to treat their benefactor with ingratitude, and load him with abuse.
The missionary is more or less dependent on his own resources. Such assistance as he obtains from the natives is so trivial, and procured with so much trouble, that it is often gladly dispensed with. The good man is his own architect, smith, wheelwright, tinker, gardener, &c., while his faithful spouse officiates as nurse, cook, washerwoman, and so forth. Occasionally, to get the drudgery off their hands, they adopt some poor boy and girl, who, after they have been taught with infinite labor to make themselves useful, and have experienced nothing but kindness, will often leave their protectors abruptly, or, what is nearly as bad, become lazy and indolent.
A Namaqua, it would appear, is not able to appreciate kindness, and no word in his language, as far as I can remember, is expressive of gratitude! The same is the case, as I shall hereafter have occasion to mention, with their northern neighbors, the Damaras, and though a sad, it is nevertheless a true picture.
When wagons were first introduced into Great Namaqua-land, they caused many conjectures and much astonishment among the natives, who conceived them to be some gigantic animal possessed of vitality. A conveyance of this kind, belonging to the Rev. Mr. Schmelen, once broke down, and was left sticking in the sand. One day a Bushman came to the owner, and said that he had seen his "pack-ox" standing in the desert for a long time with a broken leg, and, as he did not observe it had any grass, he was afraid that it would soon die of hunger unless taken away!
- ↑ When a bush-tick is found attached to any part of the body of a man, the simplest and the most effectual way of getting rid of it, without any disagreeable result, is to anoint the place to which the insect has fixed itself with pipe oil. In cases of brute animals, I have found tar to answer the purpose exceedingly well.
- ↑ I have seen the white Egyptian vulture feed upon it! This is, I believe, with one more exception, the only instance where this class of birds are known to partake of vegetable food.
- ↑ The southern limit of Great Namaqua-land is, at the present moment, the Orange River. To the north it is bounded by Damara-land, or by about the twenty-second degree of south latitude.