Lake Ngami/Chapter 24
CHAPTER XXIV.
Leaving Hans in charge of the men and cattle, I posted back to Eikhams, a distance of about sixty miles, in the hope of recovering our debt from Jonker; but he had not yet returned. By this time, however, I received positive information that he and his people were engaged in a cattle-lifting foray. To enable me to acquire full details of their proceedings, I set off for Barmen, the head-quarter for information as respects Damara-land. Here fugitives arrived daily, bringing tidings of plunder and bloodshed. I felt grieved and angry at Jonker's outrageous behavior. Only a year before he had most solemnly promised Mr. Galton never again to molest the Damaras.
Hearing that Kachamaha, the most powerful chief in the country since the death of Kahichenè, resided not far from Barmen, and that he had been a severe sufferer by the depredations of the Namaquas, I determined to visit him, with a view of ascertaining the extent of his own and his countrymen's losses.
I found Kachamaha's kraal on the steep banks of a periodical stream, one of the largest tributaries of the Swakop. The situation was most picturesque. The wonderful luxuriance of the vegetation, and extreme beauty of the landscape at this season, the thousands of cattle crowding the verdant slopes, the purling stream, which made a music strange to these regions—
"A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune"—
the mimosa (now in full blossom), the numerous fires on an evening, around which bustling and merry groups of savages were busily preparing their plain "veld-kost" of wild roots and bulbs—these, and many other signs of abundance, cheerfulness, and content, infused a sensation of tranquil happiness which I had not experienced since my arrival in this sunburnt and unhappy land.
The result of my own and Mr. Hahn's inquiries was a conviction that Jonker, with his murderous horde, had destroyed in his recent foray upward of forty werfts or villages, and that the aggregate number of cattle carried off could not have been much short of ten or eleven thousand. One powerful tribe of Damaras had been completely broken up. With regard to the number of people killed, we were unable to ascertain any thing with certainty, but we had reason to think that on this occasion it was not considerable.
Having collected all the facts which I thought necessary to convict Jonker of his guilt, I retraced my steps to Eikhams.
Almost immediately after leaving Barmen I had a very ugly fall from my ox. He was plunging and kicking most viciously, but I succeeded for a time in keeping my seat. Unfortunately, however, all at once both girths gave way, and, after performing a summersault in the air, I came with a violent thump to the ground. I alighted in a sitting position, but, as ill luck would have it, my left leg came in contact with the stump of a tree, which inflicted a wound fully two inches in depth, and nearly the same in length. In this state I was obliged to ride upward of one hundred miles, and the consequence was, that by the time I reached Rehoboth, what with the heat of the sun and the jolting of the ox, my limb was alarmingly inflamed. A week's rest, however, restored me, in a degree, to health.
On arriving near Eikhams, I observed almost every hill and dale covered with numerous herds of cattle, the spoils of the last excursion. On my arrival, I requested an immediate interview with the chief. In a day or two, accompanied by twenty of his principal men, he made his appearance. The meeting took place in the old church, where I had established myself, which gave a certain solemnity to the occasion. Eyebrecht and Onesimus acted as interpreters.
Every one being duly seated and silence obtained, I thus addressed the chieftain:
"Captain Jonker! when I last saw you, I shook hands with you: it grieves me that I can not do so to-day; the cause you must be aware of." I then proceeded boldly to accuse him of his late depredations in Damara-land, to which both he and the rest of the audience listened in the most profound silence.
Having finished my harangue, the cunning chief requested to be allowed to speak a few words in his defense, which, of course, was granted. He then entered into a very long and cleverly concocted story of the great losses he had sustained at the hands of the Damaras, and that what he had now done was solely in self-defense, or as indemnification for robberies committed on himself. Whatever truth there might have been in his assertion as to preceding outrages, his story on the present occasion was one chain of falsehood, and this I clearly proved to him. At last, finding no further excuse, and perceiving that I knew all about his proceedings, he confessed that, in passing through the country, his men had certainly "taken a few head of cattle, but," added he, "we left plenty after us." The manner in which he thus attempted to get out of the scrape was so ridiculous that I could not help smiling. After a little more parley, the conference broke up.
The Namaquas, however much they may be averse to hear the truth, respect the man who speaks his mind boldly. For this very reason, I was never denied a favor or request, if in their power to grant it. The case was similar with Mr. Hahn, who acted on the same principle as myself.
In my dealings with the natives, and more especially with the Namaquas, I made it a rule to treat them civilly, and even deferentially, but I never mixed very freely with them. The moment a person becomes too familiar, they lose all respect for him. The only check he has on their avarice, and safeguard against their treachery, is to exert, as far as possible, a certain moral influence over their minds. This he effects to a certain extent by showing himself superior to their faults and vices. It might be convenient enough to imitate them in some respects, but, on the whole, it will prove injurious and detrimental to the traveler's interest.
After a short stay at Eikhams, I bade adieu to Jonker, and set off on my return to Rehoboth.
One morning, when crossing a periodical stream, I observed in its sandy bed the tracks of an immense serpent, in size, as it would seem, not much inferior to the boa constrictor. I had previously heard that such monsters inhabited this part of Africa,[1] but the natives declared they were poisonous (not characteristic of this family of reptiles), and, consequently, feared them greatly. The Damaras call the serpent in question the Ondara, and said that its chief food was the rock-rabbit (hyrax capensis). Mr. Hahn had an opportunity of seeing one of these huge creatures, which had been accidentally killed by the people at Rehoboth. It measured eighteen feet in length.[2]
I was told a very striking story of the Ondara, but I am not at all prepared to vouch for its truth.
Two Hill-Damaras had, it seems, gone in search of honey, and having found a bees' nest in the cleft of a rock, one of them made his way through the confined aperture that led to it for the purpose of possessing himself of the honey-comb. But he had not long been thus engaged when he discovered a narrow circular passage leading apparently right through the nest. He told this to his comrade on the outside who suggested that it was probably caused by a serpent. However, seeing nothing to indicate the reptile's presence, he resumed his labor, and, having secured the honey-comb, was about to withdraw from the aperture, when, to his horror, he saw a huge ondara making toward him. The reptile passed the poor fellow in the first instance, but, suddenly turning round, it plunged its murderous fangs into the man's body. The poison was of so virulent a nature as to cause almost instantaneous death. The survivor, witnessing the fate of his
friend, fled precipitately. On his way home, however, and when his agitation had subsided, he determined to revenge himself on the reptile, and early the following day he returned to put his plan into execution.
Having seen the serpent leave the aperture in question, he slipped unperceived into it, and quietly awaited the reptile's return. As soon as he observed it approaching, he coolly placed his open hand across the narrowest part of the passage, and, just as the monster's eyes glared within, he grasped it by the throat, and, by striking its head to and fro against the rocks on either side, soon succeeded in destroying it.
Many Namaquas believe that the ondara possesses certain medicinal virtues; therefore, when they succeed in killing the reptile, its flesh is carefully preserved. If a person falls sick, a portion is either applied externally in the form of an unction, or given to the patient in a decoction.
The natives mention a very singular little snake, about seven or eight inches long, possessing four distinct legs, each provided with toes and nails like a lizard. It is difficult to conceive for what purpose these limbs (which are placed somewhat apart, and rather to the side, as in the seal) have been destined by nature, since they are apparently never used. The motion of this curious creature, which is of a dark slate color, is said to be that of a perfect snake. Three specimens were brought at different times to Mr. Hahn when at Barmen.
The story of the cockatrice, so common in many parts of the world, is also found among the Damaras; but instead of crowing, or, rather, chuckling like a fowl when going to roost, they say it bleats like a lamb. It attacks man as well as beast, and its bite is considered fatal. They point to the distant north as its proper home. In Timbo's country it is termed "hangara," and is said to attain to twelve feet, or even more, in length, with a beautifully variegated skin. On its head, like the Guinea-fowl, it has a horny protuberance of a reddish color. It dwells chiefly in trees. Its chuckle is heard at nightfall; and people, imagining that the noise proceeds from one of their own domestic fowls that has strayed, hasten to drive it home. But this frequently causes their destruction; for, as soon as the cockatrice perceives its victim within reach, it darts at it with the speed of lightning; and if its fangs enter the flesh, death invariably ensues. Timbo informed me that he once saw a dog belonging to his father thus killed. Moreover, the cockatrice, like the wild dog, wantonly destroys more at a time than it can consume.
Notwithstanding the dryness of the soil and the atmosphere between the Orange River and the seventeenth or eighteenth degrees of south latitude, reptiles are rather numerous. Indeed, some parts of Damara-land are so infested by them as to be almost uninhabitable. For my own part, however, I have encountered comparatively few. I never saw the cobra di capella, though it does exist in these regions. It is common enough in the colony, and is even met with in the neighborhood of the Table Mountain.
An acquaintance of mine had a remarkable escape from this reptile. Being passionately fond of botany, he was one day studying the flora of the so-called "Cape Flats." Having discovered a rare plant, he was stooping down to gather it, when up started a cobra immediately beneath his hand. My friend had no time to turn round, but retreated backward as quickly as his legs would carry him. The serpent, however, was fast gaining ground, and, had the chase lasted a few seconds longer, must inevitably have caught him; but just at this critical moment my friend stumbled over an ant-hill and fell to the ground on his back, and while in this position he saw, to his inexpressible relief, the enraged cobra dash furiously past him.
Pringle says that this snake has been known to dart at a man on horseback, and "with such force as to overshoot its aim." The average length of a full-grown specimen I believe to be about five feet.
The puff-adder (vipera inflata) was not uncommon in Namaqua-land and Damara-land. My saddle-ox had an exceedingly narrow escape from being bitten by one. The reptile was lying at length across the path, and I did not discover it until the ox almost trod on it. Any serpent less slow in its movements must have fixed its fangs in the animal. Another time a woman, the wife of a native servant of mine, found one of these horrid creatures comfortably sleeping in the folds of her skin apron.
Notwithstanding its venomous character, the puff-adder, from its inert, heavy, and sluggish habits, is comparatively harmless. The only real danger arises from treading on it. This, however, is not always easy to avoid, since its color so much resembles the ground.
When about to seize its prey or attack the enemy, the puff-adder is said to be unable to dart forward, but, on the other hand, to possess the faculty of throwing itself backward with unerring certainty.
Different species of what the Dutch term "schaap-steker," or sheep-stinger;[3] "boom-slang," or tree-snake; "ringel-hals," or ring-throat; "the spuig-slang," or spitting-snake;[4] the "zwart-slang," or black-snake,[5] &c., are also occasionally met with, but none of these are very poisonous. The spuig-slang, however, is much dreaded by the colonist, less for its bite—which, though venomous, is not fatal—but from its peculiar habit of projecting a jet of poison to a distance of several feet toward the eyes of any person who may happen to approach its haunts, the result of which is usually loss of sight.
The common people at the Cape have some very singular notions and superstitions about the different reptiles indigenous to the Cape Colony, but more especially with regard to the zwart-slang. Our wagon-driver told us that this snake is very fond of women's milk, and solemnly declared that he had known several instances where it has entered people's dwellings at night, and if it met with a sleeping mother, has dexterously abstracted her milk. I remember a somewhat similar story having been told me by the peasantry of some parts of Sweden, who state that to kill a snake was not alone a duty, but an expiatory sacrifice, since "seven sins" would be forgiven an individual for each serpent slain by him. Accordingly, in the credulity of my childish days, I was a perfect Thalaba!
Incorrect ideas of the power of the reptile family, coupled with superstitious dread, have no doubt served considerably to exaggerate the fear of snakes. Many, we know, are of the most venomous character; but, as we become better acquainted with the different species, we shall find that by far the greater portion are harmless, or nearly so. The remarkably few cases of death occurring from their bites are a corroboration of this. Moreover, like the rest of lower animals, the most deadly reptile will generally fly at the sight of man. It only exerts its formidable powers of destruction when about to be trampled upon or assailed. Were it otherwise, many of the more humid parts of our globe, where snakes literally swarm, would be uninhabitable. Before setting foot on African soil, my head was full of the dangers to which I should be exposed from them, either when "treading the maze of the jungle," or when traversing the endless sand-plains. Habit and experience have since taught me to regard snakes with something akin to indifference.
Some of the antidotes in Southern Africa for the bites of snakes and the stings of poisonous insects are simple, singular, and striking.
The first point to be attended to is (if it be practicable) to tie a string or ligature tight above the wounded part, so as to prevent the venom spreading.
Cutting away, or applying caustic to the wounded part, if promptly and unhesitatingly done, is also likely to prevent fatal consequences.
Europeans have usually recourse to eau de luce, five drops of which is administered to the patient in a glass of water every ten minutes until the poison is counteracted. Eau de luce is also applied externally. Another very good plan is to scarify with a knife the wound, and then boldly to suck it. Care, however, must be taken that one has no sore about the lips or mouth. Sweet milk, oil, or spirits of hartshorn must then be applied to the wound. The patient should also be made to drink freely of sweet milk.
In the Cape Colony, the Dutch farmers resort to a cruel but apparently effective plan to counteract the bad effects of a serpent's bite. An incision having been made in the breast of a living fowl, the bitten part is applied to the wound. If the poison be very deadly, the bird soon evinces symptoms of distress, "becomes drowsy, droops its head, and dies." It is replaced by a second, a third, and more if requisite. When, however, the bird no longer exhibits any of the signs just mentioned, the patient is considered out of danger. A frog similarly applied is supposed to be equally efficacious.
A certain white bean found in some parts of the colony (designated, somewhat singularly, the gentleman bean) has also been known to cure the bites of serpents and other poisonous creatures. Thus a Damara woman who had been stung by a scorpion was once brought to Mr. Hahn with her whole body very much swollen and inflamed. She was already in such a state as to be unable to walk. He instantly divided one of the beans in question, and applied it to the wound, to which it adhered with such tenacity as only to be removed by force. When the virus was extracted, the bean dropped off of its own accord, and the woman, after a time, thoroughly recovered.
"As an antidote against the bite of serpents," says Thunberg, in his Travels in South Africa, "the blood of the turtle was much cried up, which, on account of this extraordinary virtue, the inhabitants dry in the form of small scales or membranes, and carry about them when they travel in this country, which swarms with this most noxious vermin. Whenever any one is wounded by a serpent, he takes a couple of pinches of the dried blood internally, and applies a little of it to the wound."[6]
And Kolben, when speaking of the cobras (called by the first colonists the hair-serpent), says:
"Some affirm that there is in the head of the hair-serpent a stone, which is a never failing antidote both against the poison of this and every other sort of serpent. I killed a great many hair-serpents at the Cape, and searched very narrowly the heads of all I killed in order to find this stone, but I could never discover any such thing. Perhaps it is only to be found at one season of the year, as are the stones in the heads of crawfish.
"There are in the hands of the Cape Europeans," Kolben goes on to say, "a great many stones called serpent-stones, but they are artificial ones. They are brought from the East Indies, where they are prepared by the Brachmans, who are alone, it seems, possessed of the secret of the composition, and will not let it go out of their own body at any price. I am heartily sorry the secret is not in the Christian world, and that the Brachmans are inflexible in this particular, because those stones are of admirable virtues. I saw one of them tried upon a child at the Cape, who had receiv'd a poisonous bite in one of the arms, but it could not be discover'd from what creature. When the stone was brought, the arm was prodigiously swell'd and inflam'd. The stone, being applied to the wound, stuck to it very closely, without any manner of bandage or support, drinking in the poison till it could receive no more, and then it dropt off. The stone was then laid in milk, that it might purge itself of the poison; and it did so presently, the poison turning the milk yellow. The stone, as soon as it was purg'd, was again applied to the wound; and when it had drank in its dose, it was again laid in milk. And this was reiterated till such time as the stone had exhausted all the poison, after which the arm was quickly heal'd."
Mr. Thunberg also tells us that the farmers in the Cape Colony cure the bites of serpents and of other venomous reptiles by means of the "slange-steen," or snake-stone. "It is imported," he says, "from the Indies, especially from Malabar, and costs several rix dollars. It is convex on one side, of a black color, with a pale ash-gray speck in the middle, and tubulated with very minute pores. When thrown into water it causes bubbles to rise, which is a proof of its being genuine, as it is, also, that if put into the mouth it adheres to the palate. When it is applied to any part that has been bitten by a serpent, it sticks fast to the wound and extracts the poison; as soon as it is saturated, it falls off of itself. If it be then put into milk, it is supposed to be purified from the poison it had absorbed, and the milk is said to be turned blue by it. Frequently, however, the wound is scarified with a razor previously to the application of the stone."
"This antidote," says Barrow, when speaking of the snake-stone, "appears to be, in fact, nothing more than a piece of firm bone of some animal made into an oval shape, and burnt round the edges so as to leave a whitish spot in the middle. The country-people, who purchase this remedy under the idea of its being a stone taken out of the head of a certain species of serpent, were very much astonished on being told that it was only a piece of bone, and the more so on finding that this substance stood their test of the goodness of the slange-steen, which was that of throwing out bubbles on the surface when immersed in water. To the porosity of the bone may be ascribed its healing qualities, if it actually possesses any; for which reason, any other substance made up of capillary tubes, as common sponge, for instance, might perhaps be equally efficacious."
To resume: Our journey to Rehoboth was unattended with any very remarkable incident, and we reached that place in safety after an absence of twenty-three days.
- ↑ Large species of serpents of the python family are known to inhabit many parts of the African continent. Dr. Smith, in his "Zoology of South Africa," when speaking of a certain species (python Natalensis) found sparingly in the neighborhood of Natal, thus says:
"It occasionally attains a very large size, and, according to the natives, individuals have been seen whose circumference was equal to that of the body of a stout man: we have ourselves seen a skin which measured twenty-five feet, though a portion of the tail was deficient. It feeds upon quadrupeds, and for some days after swallowing food it remains in a torpid state, and may then be easily destroyed. The South Africans, however, seldom avail themselves of these opportunities of ridding themselves of a reptile they view with horror, as they believe that it has a certain influence over their destinies; and affirm that no person has ever been known to maltreat it without sooner or later paying for his audacity."
- ↑ Mr. Freeman, in "A Tour in South Africa," mentions having heard of one of this kind of reptiles being destroyed that actually exceeded this size nearly three times. "This enormous serpent," says the reverend gentleman, "was hanging from the bough of a large tree, and was killed only after a desperate struggle. It measured fifty feet in length. This was ascertained by a number of men lying down at full length by its side. It took nine men to reach from the head to the tail, and was of prodigious girth round the body."
- ↑ Trimerorhinus rhombeatus.
- ↑ Naia haje.
- ↑ Columber canus.
- ↑ Turtle blood is also asserted to be a good remedy against wounds caused by poisoned arrows.