This country is situated on the north of Monkuruan. The boundaries are
common to both, from the Transvaal, down west to that range of mountains
running north, the continuation of the Langberg; beyond is the Kalahara
desert, of which this western portion forms part. Its northern boundary
joins the chief Gaseitsive, and the Transvaal is on the east. The
length from east to west is 200 miles, and from north to south seventy
miles. The Malapo, or the Mafeking river, rises in the Transvaal, flows
west, through the entire length of this territory, continuing on in the
same direction, receiving the two dry rivers, the Nosop and Onp, then
turns south at the great bend, under the name of Hygap, and enters the
Orange at Kakaman's Drift; there are but few branches in its course.
The eastern portion of this country is valuable and productive, suitable
for any kind of vegetation.
When the British Government settled the Keats award boundary, they
confirmed Montsioa's title to the ground on the west of it. At that
time, 1871, Montsioa and many of his people were living at Moshanen, a
Kaffir station in Gaseitsive's territory, situated eighteen miles to the
west of Kanya, the seat of that chief. But after the settlement of the
award he removed down to his own country, and settled at his town,
Sehuba, which has since been burnt by the Boers, and was six miles south
of the Molapo river, and the same distance from the large kraal on its
banks, under the petty chief Melema, on Molapo, who was his nephew; and
eighteen miles below, and on the river, was the large kraal under
Maceby.
The population numbered some 35,000 souls, including the Kuruman
district; but since the Transvaal Boers have made war on these people,
after the retrocession of that state, nearly half have been killed and
made prisoners.
The country has fine grazing-lands, and some parts are well-wooded.
There are extensive vleis and pans; the people cultivate corn
extensively, use ploughs, and had large herds of cattle, sheep, and
goats, now stolen by the Boers.
Montsioa belongs to the Baralong tribe of the Bechuana family; he and
his people have always been loyal to the English Government, and during
the Transvaal rebellion many loyal Boers fled to him for protection, and
were hospitably received. The people are in their habits and customs
similar to those in Monkuruan's country. Montsioa is a quiet,
well-disposed chief, and has been cruelly used by the Boers for his
loyalty to England; one of his sons, and most of his brave men, have
been shot down like dogs, and his women and their children killed in
cold blood, and many of them taken into captivity, all for keeping true
and loyal. He has been shamefully and disgracefully forsaken, and left
to battle alone against these murdering freebooters, who were supported
by the Transvaal Government, and supplied with guns and ammunition to
carry on their unholy war, and now he has lost the greater portion of
his people, and nearly all his cattle and property. The British
Government, moved by the voice of the English people and our loyals at
the Cape, at the eleventh hour sent out a force under Major-General Sir
Charles Warren, to see justice done him. Will they compel the Boers to
return the stolen property, and the women and children they have taken
into the Transvaal as slaves, for they will be nothing less? Will they
deliver up the murderers of Mr. Bethel and others? Never was a more
cruel and unjust war made against people than this, by a people
professing Christianity, who have, by their cold-blooded and atrocious
acts, stamped themselves as a nation of murderers and robbers, and for
such acts they are not worthy of retaining the Transvaal as an
independent country. It is useless for that Government to deny any
complicity in these wars, they are well known to have been the
promoters--there is evidence sufficient to prove this. I was told by
some of the influential Boers in Pretoria, soon after peace was
restored, and the first convention made, in July 1881, that they
intended to go and punish Montsioa and Monkuruan, by driving them out of
their territories and taking their land, for their loyalty to England in
protecting loyal Boers. As they stated, "We will not have these natives
on our border who have helped you English," showing what their intention
was as soon as they were confirmed in their republic. I have deemed it
necessary to state these facts, that the English people may know in any
future dealings with whom they have to meet.
In the settlement of the Keats award the land was confirmed to Montsioa.
There is an extensive hill of metamorphic formation on his eastern
boundary, but which may now be included in the Transvaal by the recent
Convention, which has in its centre, on the summit, the remains of an
extinct volcano; the vent is about 700 yards in diameter, the highest
point is 5650 feet above sea-level, and stands on the central watershed.
There is an opening for the escape of the lava, which appears to have
travelled some miles down a valley on the south-east. This lava, or
boiling mud, has several vents on the exterior, the central opening is
level, and on one side many bones are embedded in the rock. It is an
interesting formation.
The western division of Montsioa's territory is more open on the south
side of the Molapo river, but more wooded on the northern. It was one
of my favourite hunting-grounds in my early visits, as game at that time
swarmed over those extensive plains, and with a horse they were easily
shot; but it was dangerous riding, as there are so many wolf-holes,
ant-bear, porcupine, armadillo, spring-hare, and meercat, partly hidden
by long grass, that a horse at full speed cannot always escape them,
which frequently ends in a broken collarbone or a broken rifle. Many of
the antelope species are very subject to bransick, and hundreds die;
their bones may be seen lying about in every direction, consequently it
is a great resort for vultures and eagles, who are constantly on the
look-out for those who have not many days to live. If a wildebeest or
blesbok has this complaint, and is not likely to live many days, he is
found standing alone, and surrounded by half a hundred of these birds
waiting patiently till he drops, then they commence upon him before he
is quite dead, his eyes being first taken, and in less than half an hour
there is very little left to be eaten. Many believe the vultures or
eagles discover their food only by their splendid sight; my experience
proves that scent has more to do with it. During my travels in these
wilds I have had almost daily opportunity of observing their mode of
discovering any dead animal that may be exposed in the open. These
birds are almost constantly on the wing; the exception is when they have
gorged until they can eat no more. Then they rest on the ground or some
stone koppie, until they have to some extent digested their food, to
enable them to fly. Many times I have ridden up to them and given them
a cut with my riding-whip to make them fly, which they are incapable of
doing from over-feeding. When an animal dies, the scent is driven by
the wind and ascends many thousand feet, and is carried along with it.
If any of these birds are to be seen on the wing, they almost always fly
in circles, making long sweeps in their course; this will take up any
scent that may be in the air. In watching them closely it is easy to
see when they have got the scent, and when they lose it, as is often the
case if they make too great a circle. There may be sometimes from 100
to 200 performing these graceful circular flights, some one way and some
another. Being at a great altitude--1000 yards--when they smell the
carrion, they are, if the wind is strong, more than a mile away from the
animal, and as they fly round they gradually work up to windward, until
the object is visible; then they do not come down at once, but appear to
make a survey of the surroundings before coming down to feast on the
carcass. I have may times seen them come down wind, pass directly over
a dead beast unnoticed, until they have got into the current of air on
the down side, when they have worked back until they could see the
animal on the ground. Their splendid sight will lead them to the spot
after a time, but their quick sense of smell is the first indication
that there is a grand feast for them.
Of all birds I think the vulture is the most graceful in its flight,
with its immense wings, which measure from tip to tip seven and
sometimes nine feet, extended without a movement as they circle in the
air. One day I was out on foot after some blue wildebeest, with my
rifle, near the dry pan Bakillara; I came upon about 100 of these birds,
who were too late for a feast upon a buck, the bones of which had
already been picked quite clean, when they took flight and disappeared.
Knowing their habits so well, and that more would shortly come, I walked
about 100 yards away to a wildebeest hole, which that animal scrapes to
sleep in. There I laid down as if dead, putting my rifle out of sight;
I wanted to see what they would do if they saw me. In about ten minutes
several flew overhead to the dead animal, eyeing me as they passed, with
their heads on one side, and about fifty yards over me; many of them
commenced their circular flight to have another look to see if I were
dead. Nearly half an hour was passed in this way without the slightest
movement on my part, when dozens of them began to settle on the ground
forty yards away, but afraid to come nearer; others would make a swoop
down within a dozen yards of me and pass on; when upwards of fifty had
settled down, finding they would not come to pick my bones, and getting
tired of my position, I jumped up with a great shout, when they took
wing and in less than two minutes were out of sight.
The black eagle is more frequently seen here than in any other part of
Africa, in consequence, I suppose, of food being plentiful. I shot one
out of four that settled near my waggon one afternoon, when my driver
was skinning a wolf he had shot. When sitting on the ground it measured
two feet four inches to the shoulder, and its wings from tip to tip nine
feet five inches. Two years ago I shot a white eagle; the wings
measured nearly ten feet. I tried to preserve them, but did not
succeed.
All kinds of hawks, some very large, and the large horned owl are common
in this part of the desert, as also some of the smaller species. Snakes
also are plentiful: the most common is the puffadder, which grows to a
large size; two I killed measured three feet each. The cobra-de-capello
and also the python are common. One I shot measured sixteen feet two
inches, but there are some larger. This one had an entire steinbok in
it; they are more numerous near Vleis. Lizards, salamanders, and many
small snakes are seen amongst the stones and rocks. Scorpions of a dark
colour have been killed eleven inches in length.
This part of the country the greater part of the year is short of water,
but in the Molapo it can be obtained by digging a few feet in the bed of
the river, which is sand. If proper attention is paid to improvements,
this part may be made valuable and productive.
Many Bushman families live on the north side of the river, of the
Bakillihara tribe, quite distinct from the Masare Bushman. They have
small cattle-posts belonging to the Bechuanas, but others are free,
seldom stationary.
The old mission station at Mosega, situate on a branch of the Klein
Marico, was abandoned in 1852, as also Malatza, by the Revs. Ingles and
Edwards, the Boers not allowing them to remain. All that portion of
Montsioa's territory is quite equal to any part of the Cape Colony for
richness of soil and growth of corn and vegetables, splendid
grazing-land for cattle, and well supplied with water from fountains,
with good roads. Several lions were killed on the Molapo twelve years
ago; two young ones were captured and brought up by M. Ludic, a
Bastard, and afterwards sold for five pounds, and sent to England.
There were many Bastards at the time I first passed through, which I
frequently had occasion to do on my journeys, and found them very civil
and kind. Indeed, it would be difficult to find a class of people more
attentive and well-disposed towards travellers than this class, so that
it was quite a pleasure to meet them. They are good mechanics, and can
repair a waggon as well as any colonial waggon-maker, as I have found
when anything was required to be done to mine.
On the south of this territory, between it and the Transvaal, is that
small slip of country under the petty captain Moshette, part of which is
included in the Transvaal by the late Convention between the British
Government and that Republic. This petty captain and the Koranna
captain Moshoen have been the tools of the Transvaal Government to make
war on Monkuruan and Montsioa, and it serves them right that they should
lose their country. Moshoen lives at his large station at Maamuosa,
situated on a white sandstone hill close to the Harts river; this stone
is used by mill-owners for grinding their corn. The most unfrequented
part of Montsioa's country is that through which the river Molapo runs,
to the westward of Maceby's station, the course of which has already
been described in the river system.
Eighteen years ago the plains swarmed with game, and lions also. I was
travelling down from Kanya through the desert to Maceby, on my way to
Conge kraal, north of Morequern. At Maceby's there were Boers, each
with a waggon, going to Morequern; the road I was travelling was the
same. One of them, whom I had met before, asked if we should trek
together, which was agreed to, until the roads separated seventy-five
miles on, the distance to Conge being 125 miles; the only objection I
had, was that they travelled at night, but as there were some very nasty
places along the road and we could assist each other in case of
accident, I agreed. On the third night from Maceby's, we were
travelling along over an open country, my waggon was the third in the
line, and a Dutchman was the last; the night was stormy with a high
wind, and very dark. Soon after inspanning in the evening, we knew
lions were following us, but this occurs so often that we took no notice
of it. But about eleven o'clock the oxen in all the waggons became very
restless, and our foreloopers had difficulty to keep them on the road,
calling out that lions were close.
The Boer behind my waggon had no forelooper, there was only himself with
the waggon, which was empty. I was sitting on my waggon-box with my
driver, and the forelooper leading the oxen. Soon after eleven we heard
the after-waggon and oxen leave the road and make a rush across the
veldt, towards a dry bed of a river, and heard the Boer call out to us
to stop, which we did as soon as I could make those in front understand
the case. We held to, and listened, but heard no sound of the Boer or
anything else. The wind and rain coming on, we three, with our waggons,
drew up in a line, and fastened the oxen to the trektow and waited until
daylight, for it was useless and also very dangerous to go walking about
in the veldt amongst low bushes, to look for the Boer or his waggon,
where lions seemed to swarm; besides, we had as much as we could do to
keep the lions from making an attack on our own oxen.
As soon as the first sings of daylight approached, the two Boers, a son,
and myself, took our rifles and followed the spoor of the last waggon,
which we found upset in the dry river, about 400 yards from the road,
killing six of the oxen in the fall, and the other six had cleared
themselves from their yokes, and strayed away out of sight, but no man
was to be seen. Going back on the line the waggon took, we found the
man's hat and some distance beyond his long ox-whip, and a little blood,
not far from it. There was then no doubt about his disappearance; the
oxen had bolted, and the man to turn them on to the road had jumped off
the waggon, when a lion had seized and carried him off. As the sun was
now above the horizon, we gave orders for our boys to outspan, and then
hastened on in the direction the lion's spoor showed us he had gone.
There was here and there blood on the grass, which led to a small clump
of bushes and stones; here we found part of the remains and clothes,
which were all torn to shreds, of the poor man, but no signs of the
lions, for there must have been several by the footprints in the sand.
We sent to the waggon for a spade and buried the remains of what small
portion was left, and then took up the spoor,--to settle accounts with
the lions,--which followed along a dry watercourse, which was crossed,
and under a sand-bank with high grass we came upon them, a lion and
lioness, and a young one, comfortably reposing. The two Boers and
myself--all good shots--made very short work of the affair, knowing what
they had done. It was arranged not to fire until we could make a dead
shot, and all to fire at the lion; two in the first instance, the third
to be ready if he showed fight, whilst the other two reloaded; but as
the Dutchmen's rifles carried heavy bullets,--eight to the pound,--their
two shots did the work, for when the lion rose up to have a look at us,
throwing back his ears and showing his teeth, both bullets entered his
chest and he fell, but not quite dead; my third bullet in the region of
his heart finished him. We then turned upon the lioness, who gave us
much trouble before we could have an opportunity of a good shot; her
endeavour was to escape, but this we could not quite agree to; however,
a shot in the shoulder, and another in the neck, stopped her making any
further attempt to get away, and enabled us to get up and complete the
work. The Boers wanted the skins, which would delay us the day,
therefore I went back to my waggon for breakfast, thinking it was no bad
bag for so early in the morning. But before doing so we searched every
bush and cover for the young lion without success; but in the afternoon,
when the two Kaffir boys were skinning the lioness, the young one was
seen not far off, and the Kaffir shot him. We then went down to the
river to see what could be done with the waggon, the dead oxen, and
those that had strayed away into the bush. After a time they were found
and brought back; the waggon was too much smashed to remove. It had
fallen over a steep bank fifteen feet deep. The Boers wanted to save
the skins and the flesh of the dead oxen, which would take time, and as
I could do no more good I arranged to start the next morning. We all
took care to collect plenty of wood for great fires to be kept alight,
and it was well we did, for we were serenaded with the lions' music all
the night; the surroundings seemed full of them, and also with wolves
and jackals; the smell of the dead oxen brought them to our locality.
However, bidding my friends good-bye, after breakfast I left for Conge.
The second day after leaving them, we saw several lions as we passed
along, but they were a long way from the waggon. In the afternoon, the
next day, about 200 yards on our right from the road, we counted no less
than seventeen large and small lions, some of them playing, others lying
and sitting down; they took no notice of us, merely looked as we passed
along, and we at them. We made a long trek after that, to get as far as
we could from them before night, for however pretty they are to look at
in their wild and native home, their proximity to the waggon on a dark
night is not conducive to a good night's rest. In four days after this
we arrived at Conge, without seeing any more. I remained at this
station two days, then left for Morequern. The chief and many of his
people came to the waggon, with pumpkins, watermelons, milk, and eggs.
I never met with a more quiet and orderly and well-behaved people than
these Bechuanas. Very few traders visited these parts then. There was
one after this who frequented this part of the country, and who blew
himself up in his waggon, together with the missionary from Matetong and
some twenty Kaffirs.
This was the last missionary that lived at that station, the house and
grounds are in ruins, but there are some very fine willow trees still
standing planted by Messrs. Moffat and Campbell when the mission was
first established.
Conge is eighteen miles from Morequern; the road the whole way is
fearfully stony; a pan half-way is noted for guinea-fowl. The next day
I arrived at Morequern, where I had to repair my waggon. A large pan
divides two large kraals; on the east side an old blind chief lives,
Makalawar or Makutse, a Baralong, and on the west, Maksetse.
As it would take some few days before the waggon would be ready, and as
all the people at these large stations had always been kind to me
whenever I came amongst them, I determined to send out an invitation to
all the young Kaffir girls and young Kaffirs to a big dance. They were
to come in their full dress costume. The reed band was engaged. The
performance was to wind up with a large ox roasted whole, to be washed
down with Kaffir beer. Three o'clock was the appointed time, at a large
open space by my waggon. Long before that I had half the people round
me, including little children. The young girls came decked out with a
profusion of beads worked upon well-brayed leather, forming aprons,
bracelets, necklaces, in every variety of form and design, very
beautifully executed; bands of beads round their woolly heads and long
pendants of beads for earrings setting them off to great advantage, each
coming to me to show their finery, and seeming delighted to be praised
for their good looks and fine ornaments, for invariably when young they
have beautiful figures and expressive features. The young men also came
dressed in their best clothes. The old people, with their chief and his
counsellors, came to look on. In all about 500 assembled to do honour
to the feast, and great rejoicings and fun characterised the meeting.
Two reed bands came, thirty in each. Dancing and music commenced at
four p.m. and continued up to feeding-time, when the ox was sufficiently
roasted. Men were told off to cut up and divide it amongst the people.
Nearly 100 little fires were made for parties to form round them, for
Kaffirs can do nothing without a fire. Kaffir corn was cooked in pots
in addition to the meat for their feast, and at nine p.m. dancing,
music, and talking recommenced with undiminished joyousness, whilst, to
complete the evening, I had a scramble from my waggon of a variety of
articles of use to them--handkerchiefs, tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and
other things, which caused an immense amusement. At twelve o'clock I
told them to go home, for I must sleep; and in less than ten minutes all
was quiet. Everything passed off pleasantly. This reed band is a great
institution with these people. The following night the young men met as
usual with the band at their large kraal. The night was not dark, as
the stars give great light in this latitude. When they were in full
play, and the women and children going round the performers, singing and
clapping of hands, each one wearing a long kaross, which covered their
figure, and a fur cap, their usual covering at night, I left my waggon,
dressed like them, with a jackal kaross and tiger-skin cap, which
concealed my figure and face, walked down and joined in the dance, which
was maintained for some time, all the men sitting or standing beyond the
circle looking on. A little girl caught a glimpse of my white face,
which had become partly uncovered, when she screamed out and pointed to
me. It was then no longer necessary to keep up the disguise; I
therefore threw off my kaross. When they saw who it was, they joined in
the fun, laughing and clapping of hands, and I was made to sit down and
have a good drink of Kaffir beer. The next night or evening, before
sundown, there was a dance of the married women, about seventy, dressed
up in all kinds of strange figures. This was to celebrate the return of
about thirty young girls to their homes, and about the same number of
young men, who had passed through certain ceremonies after the Jewish
custom, before the boys are admitted into the ranks with the men, and
entitled to carry arms in war; and the girls before they are allowed to
marry.
This custom is at a particular season. One or two old medicine-men will
take those boys who are to be admitted to manhood into some secluded
glen, where they remain for two or three months isolated from the rest
of the people, no one being allowed to go near them during that time,
the old men looking after their food; and at the appointed time they are
allowed to return to the kraal. The young men are painted over with
white clay for a certain number of days after the ceremony. Two or more
old women take the girls also to some remote place, and when they return
they also are covered with white clay, and, in addition, wear a short
kilt made of reeds or grass, and a band of the same material crossing
over the shoulders, meeting in front and behind, which are worn during a
certain time at their kraals, when they assume their ordinary dress, and
then are eligible to be chosen for wives. I was hunting one day near
Cooe, and happened to ride down the river close upon a number of these
girls and two old women, which caused a great commotion amongst them. I
was told if they had caught me they were likely to kill me for
trespassing into their sanctuary. All the Bechuana tribe have this
ceremony. This region being far removed from any white people, the
natives are much better behaved, and it was a pleasure to be amongst
them. As a people they are quite alive to the ridiculous, and can
understand a joke as well as any one. It was great fun to go out with
the children and enter into games with them, which they so thoroughly
enjoyed that when I arrived at their kraal again after many months,
which I had frequently to do to pass through to other parts, my arrival
was hailed with delight by the youngsters.
During my stay here I had a narrow escape from a lion. I was out with
my rifle after some ostriches in the Kalahara, ten miles from Conge.
Here and there were low bushes. I had run down one bird and fastened
the feathers on the saddle before me. On my way home, on my right,
about 300 yards, was what appeared to be a dead animal or an ostrich, I
could not tell which, therefore I rode up and found it was a blue
wildebeest or gnu, nearly half eaten. Turning my horse to the left to
resume my journey, walking the horse past a bush close on my right,
about fifty yards from the carcass, I came right upon a full-grown lion
and lioness lying down. My horse caught sight of them first, made a
spring which nearly threw me from the saddle, so sudden and unexpected
was his movement. When he did this I saw the lion about to spring; but
our movement was too sudden, and he lost his opportunity; in another
moment the lion would have been upon us. When a couple of hundred yards
was between us, I turned the horse round to have a good look at the
splendid animal, as I knew he would not follow. Both were standing
looking at me. It was now getting late in the day, therefore I lost no
more time in looking after birds or lions. We were not ten feet from
the lion when the horse made his spring, about as lucky an escape from
the jaws of a lion as one could desire.
Treking through the country where there were no roads to Kuis, on the
Molapo, in Montsioa country, I came upon a small Bushman kraal, six huts
in all, evidently a permanent station. A few goats were feeding near
them, and in the bushes were four bush girls collecting most beautiful
caterpillars of red, yellow, blue, and green, about three inches in
length. They told my Hottentot they cook them in milk, and they are
very nice. As the people seemed very friendly, I remained the night
with my waggon, and was much amused at the dancing and singing in the
evening. Happy people! why should they be disturbed in their innocent
life? There were old and young, in all eighteen; a quiet and
inoffensive family. Far away from other kraals these people lived to
themselves; not another family that I could see within fifty miles.
Walking round in the morning to collect some of these caterpillars to
put into spirits, I observed many of the thorn trees covered with dead
insects, small lizards, frogs, beetles, grasshoppers, locusts, and many
other kinds, all beautifully spiked on the long mimosa thorns; nearly
every bough had one or more on. I knew at once that it was the larder
of the little cruel butcher-bird. The bush seemed to swarm with them,
and I have watched them frequently take and spike insects. One caught a
frog and carried it to a tree close to where I was concealed, to see how
he managed to pierce them so securely. The frog made a kind of scream
when he was being taken up, and almost a scream when the large thorn was
put through him. But he was not long suspended; when the bird was gone
he wriggled himself clear, and fell to the ground, and I put him out of
his pain. This butcher-bird is about the size, rather larger than a
sparrow, black and white. One killed two canary-birds; both were put on
the thorns. They seem never at rest, always looking for game of some
kind. They are known in every part of South Central Africa. The
Wagt-een-beitje tree is their favourite for impaling their victims.
The mocking-bird is also common; two kinds, one black and white, the
other brown. The latter is the most talkative. Both night and day I
have watched them on the topmost branches of the lofty trees, and their
persistent and energetic mode of keeping up their everlasting talk has
kept me awake many nights, as in several parts, where the wood is thick,
they seem to occupy every tree and bush.
Snakes are also plentiful down along the Molapo; being out one afternoon
with my gun after wild ducks, walking along the banks, all of a sudden a
large black mamba snake stood in my path, about ten feet distant; he had
raised himself more than two feet from the ground and was coming at me;
I had just time to fire into his head before he made his spring. He
measured eleven feet seven inches. The poison-fangs are as long as a
parrot's claws. I put him into one of these chimneypot ant-hills to
feed the ants; several more I saw the same day, and many puffadders: the
largest measured three feet five inches.
All this part of the chief Montsioa's territory, down past Kuis, and
along the Mafeking river, which is his western division, is one of the
driest portions of the Kalahara desert; in the winter months the only
water to be obtained is in the sand of the river by digging; but in
summer there is plenty. A road from Kuruman runs through the desert,
down part of the way by the Kuruman river, crossing the Nosop and Oup to
Meer, where the Bastards have formed a town: the distance is 240 miles.
Before leaving this region I wish to explain the meteorological
peculiarities of South Central Africa. When any great change in the
atmosphere is about to take place, it has often been remarked by
travellers, that in Africa there is lightning and thunder without
clouds. I have often remarked this phenomenon, and wondered what could
be the cause. Isolated from all society, thrown upon our own resources
for occupation and amusement, in these solitary journeys through this
vast unknown region, we are more prone to investigate the mysteries of
nature than we should if thrown more amongst the busy world. So it was
in my case, and knowing there must be some natural law unknown to me, I
took my observations accordingly to find it out.
During the long dry season many years ago, when travelling in the
central portion of this desert, where this strange lightning and thunder
occurred almost every night at certain seasons of the year, when no
clouds are visible, all I could discover was, that the flashes seemed to
come from one quarter. I was outspanned one day near one of those
singular isolated granite hills, so often to be seen in the Kalahara
desert, that look more like a ruined temple than the works of nature. I
started in the afternoon to climb to its summit, to take observations
with my instruments, and found the elevation from base to top to be 278
feet. It would be difficult to find words to convey the exquisite
pleasure I felt in standing alone on this lofty eminence, where no white
man before ever placed his foot: alone, far from the busy world, its
anxieties and troubles; to look at the fair scene beneath and around me,
the rich vegetation on the plains (for it was in the month of November,
when all is bright and fair), the distant mountains, their quaint
outlines softened by space to lovely purple tints, as they fade away
into the rosy sky on the horizon! Taking up a position under a huge
block of granite, to be out of the sun's influence, for the thermometer
registered 106 degrees in the shade, to take observations, my attention
was attracted to some heavy-looking clouds just perceptible above the
topmost ridge of some lofty hills in the north-west some twenty miles
distant. The sun was shining on them, giving them a pink massive
outline. I remained in this position till nearly sundown, when I
returned to the waggons; no clouds were visible above the hills when I
reached my camp, nothing but the bright glow of the sky, which later on
had changed to a purplish-blue, and as night approached came the usual
lightning-flashes; my impression was we were going to have a storm, but
there were no signs of clouds all night, and a clear sky the next day.
On the following day we treked fifteen miles more to the north, and in
the afternoon observed, just above the horizon, a line of clouds,
similar to those I had seen the day before in the same position, and as
evening advanced they appeared to have dispersed, as they became blended
with the evening tints, and a casual observer would declare, with every
appearance of truth, that there were no clouds to be seen in the sky,
although he would see the lightning-flash only, as in no case when these
apparently cloudless flashes come, is spark or electric fluid visible.
I have been exploring constantly the whole of South Central Africa for
twenty-five years, out in the open air nightly; not an evening escaped
my observations, therefore I write with some degree of confidence when I
state no electric spark is ever seen with this lightning, in consequence
of the distance, and partly below the horizon, and occasionally, but
very seldom, in the stillness and quiet that pervades everything, the
air perfectly calm, the distant nimble of thunder may be heard, and the
clouds before morning have vanished. I followed these observations for
months, and whenever any clouds were seen just above the horizon before
the sun went down, they appeared to vanish as the evening tints
deepened. The same result followed year after year.
I once took up my quarters at a small spring flowing from some granite
rocks, where I remained six weeks, near the range of hills already
described, to hunt and explore; this was the following year, and strange
to say, every afternoon heavy masses of clouds just showed their heads
above the horizon, covering more than a quarter of a circle, that is,
from the west of north to east-north-east, taking up the same position
daily; their lovely pink tints faded as evening advanced, no clouds
could be seen, and yet nightly we had these flashes. Some may say,
surely these clouds must have passed over some portion of the desert,
not a great distance from my outspan, and rain have fallen from these
storm-clouds; the reply is, for months prior to the rainy season
commencing, clouds are formed after mid-day, and follow certain strata
in the air, drawn by the electric condition of that portion of the
earth's surface, and discharge the electricity they may contain without
rain. I give this because I have on several occasions been stationary
for some weeks in the line of country these clouds have taken, year
after year, and at the same season. After the sun has passed the
meridian, clouds have been collecting, generally from the north-east,
and as evening advances, the vivid lightning and the heavy peals of
thunder commence, and last for several hours, and then appear to
evaporate, and a lovely starlight night succeeds; not a drop of rain has
fallen during the storm, and a clear blue sky is seen over the whole of
the horizon. In this part of the desert we are seldom below 3600 feet
of sea-level, and, taking into consideration the clear and rarefied
atmosphere, a flash of lightning and the thunder may be seen and heard
at a greater distance than where the atmosphere is more dense. I may
further observe, that owing to the rotundity of the earth, and the
allowance to be made in every mile, it does not require that the clouds
should be very far away to be partly below the horizon. When we place
our eye on a level with the ground and look along a flat country, at ten
miles' distance a man must be seventy feet high for his head to be seen
above the horizon; therefore, at twenty or thirty miles, a portion of
the clouds would be beneath the horizon, not a great distance for sound
to be heard on a still evening, or a flash of light to be seen as
evening closed in. These storm-clouds, without rain, always precede the
rainy season, as also the sand-storms, and those gigantic whirlwinds
that may be seen passing over the desert by the dozen, and extending in
some instances 1000 feet high, carrying up sand, sticks, and other
articles that lie in their course; many of them measure 100 feet
through. It is a strange sight to see many of these sand-columns
passing along over a plain. I have observed, where the first passes, in
the course of the day others follow exactly in the same line: they
indicate a change in the weather. The mirage is also of daily
occurrence. In travelling through the country, its general features
appear to have entirely changed by imaginary lakes, looking so perfectly
natural; lofty trees appear to be standing in water; long belts of bush
and wood, which the traveller may be approaching, seem suspended in the
air, showing their reflection in the vapoury atmosphere between them and
the observer, which does not extend above a few feet from the ground:
that apparently vanishes as you proceed, but you are passing through it;
isolated hills look like islands, by their base being surrounded by this
moist air, which is not confined to any particular time of day, but
towards the afternoon they are more frequent. If there is any wind, of
course there is no mirage, as it disperses the damp air which causes it.
Montsioa territory is rich in cattle, which is sold to colonial traders.
The natives also are cultivating their lands for corn, and a great sale
in ploughs is the consequence. They are improving in every way, but for
the last three years the Boers have laid waste the country, killing the
people by hundreds, robbing them of their property, and stealing from
them 30,000 head of cattle, besides sheep and goats, causing untold
misery amongst a people who never injured them by word or deed. I write
this from my own personal knowledge, being there at the time, and having
only just returned to this country. The only means of preserving these
people, and improving their condition, which is essential also to the
prosperity and advancement of the Cape Colony, is to annex their lands.