THE CHIEF KHAMA'S TERRITORY OF THE BAKALIHARI TRIBE OF THE BECHUANA
FAMILY.
From the last outspan on the Notuane, at the junction of the Limpopo,
mentioned in the last chapter, the road for eight miles is close to the
bank of the Limpopo river, where I had some fishing, but instead of
catching any fish, I caught a young iguana, two feet long, and had great
difficulty to land him. It was necessary to kill the beast to release
the hook. At the bend of the river the road turns north-west, and goes
on to Ba-Mangwato. There are several cattle-posts at the bend belonging
to Khama's people and the traders at that station; and also immense
ant-hills, of the same kind as those at Motsodie. I measured one,
twenty feet high and nearly sixty feet in circumference, made by these
little white ants; my waggon looked quite small beside it.
The climate here is very peculiar, hot sun, 99 degrees in the shade,
with cold blasts of wind every four or five minutes in regular waves,
reducing the heat to 70 degrees, which we feel very cold. This is one
great cause of rheumatism and fever. To-day was almost melting with
heat; I took shelter under the waggon, but had not been there three
minutes when I had to get into the waggon, being so cold from the wind,
which feels as if it came from a frozen region. If in a violent
perspiration, fever comes on, if care is not taken to prevent a chill.
The road from this place to Mongwato is fifty-five miles. In the dry
season there are only three places where water can be obtained.
On one of the tributaries of the Limpopo is a circular rock in the
veldt, no other stones near it, fifteen feet in diameter, and similar in
shape to a ball cut through the centre, and placed on the ground, only
it belongs to the rock beneath the soil. This rock has been covered
with carvings, the greater portion of which is nearly smooth by large
animals rubbing against it, giving it quite a polish. Sufficient lines
are left to show it has been well cut with some sort of figures, and on
one side where it curves in a little, and is out of the way of
elephants, rhinoceros, and other animals, the carvings are nearly
perfect. They represent paths with trees and fruit on each side; upon
one is a snake crawling down with a fruit or round ball in its mouth,
near it is a figure, and a little distance off another figure with
wings, almost like an iguana, flying towards a man who is running away;
his left foot is similar to that of a horse, the right one has two
points--evidently Satan; the intermediate spaces have many stars. The
upper part of the stone has, in the centre, a small hollow of a
cup-shape, with two circles of the same round the centre one. It is a
very interesting monument, and appears to be very old, from the fact of
the other portions being partly obliterated by the rubbing of animals
against it. The rock is very hard and similar to those geologists call
igneous. There are many rocks of the same description, with carvings of
animals, snakes, and figures on them, and from their position they have
been preserved from animals defacing them. In several parts of the
country many of them are well executed.
A few days previous to my arrival here in 1877, three Boers, with their
waggons, were endeavouring to find a new drift in the Limpopo river, and
went in to cross to the opposite side. They had nearly reached the
bank, when the foremost looked round and saw a large crocodile come up
from the water and seize the head of the last man between his jaws, and
disappear with him. His name was Herman, a married man, twenty-six
years of age. Nothing more was seen of him but blood in the water. His
widow, a few months after, consoled herself with another husband. At
this time, soon after the British Government had annexed the Transvaal,
the Boers, wherever I met them, were always friendly--so much so, that I
have often been invited to take one of their daughters for a wife. They
were rather proud to have an Englishman for a son-in-law. I was
outspanned not many weeks back at a very pretty pool of water, or
spring, the water of which fell into the Notuane river, in what is
termed the Bush Veldt, that I might have a little shooting. The second
day an old Boer and his wife came to me to ask if I would buy some
ostrich feathers, taking me to be a trader, for all Englishmen
travelling through the country will do a little in the way of barter;
therefore I told them if they were good I would. When coffee was handed
to them as a matter of custom, they asked where my wife was. On stating
I was single, the old vrow said I must have one of her daughters; she
had two mooi (pretty) girls, and would bring them the next day for me to
see when she brought the feathers. Accordingly, the next day, true to
her promise, she came with the old man and her two girls to the waggon;
both very young, the eldest not more than seventeen, and not bad-looking
for Dutch girls, apparently very modest and shy, with a conscious look
of what they were brought for. After settling about the feathers, the
old mother pointed out her daughters to me, and told me, pointing to the
eldest, she would make me a mooi vrow, and that she had a farm of her
own and some stock. Both the girls, sitting together by their mother,
looked down and giggled every now and again, giving me sly glances from
beneath their cappies (the usual covering for the head for old and
young), and then another giggle. They had evidently been got up for the
occasion by their smart dresses, well-made English boots, and clean
white stockings, to show off a pretty foot and ankle, which certainly
they both possessed, and were not backward in showing. This is very
unusual, they generally have clumsy feet. When at home these articles
are never worn, only leather shoes called veldtscoons, which the men
make. They say--which is quite true--that stockings are dirty when you
walk about in a sandy country. However, after a long visit, coffee and
biscuits, I arranged that on my return I would come and pay them a
visit, and talk over the matter, as my opinion was either of them would
make excellent vrows, and left the best of friends. The old woman's
last words were, "You can take my daughter as soon as you come for her,"
and an encouraging glance from the daughter terminated this interesting
meeting, enhanced, as it was, by the anticipation of having the felicity
soon to possess so charming a young lady. I have had many such offers
from Boers, who were favourable to Englishmen at that time. However,
unfortunately my pursuits called me in another direction.
The country between the Limpopo and Ba-Mangwato, the chief Khama's
station, is very pretty, plenty of guinea-fowls, partridges, and pows.
Far away from the road on the left, seven miles from the bend of the
Limpopo, is a large pan where lions are always known to be, and beyond
is Brakwater, where ten years before I lost an ox from out of my cattle
kraal one dark night when outspanned. It is the custom, with all
travellers when in the Lion Veldt to kraal their cattle at night.
Seventeen miles beyond Brakwater are the Khamitsie Pits, where water
seldom fails, and close to them is a large dry pan quite a mile in
length. The road passing round at the upper end, and fifteen miles
beyond, winds through the veldt into the ancient river-bed leading to
Mongwato. The whole region for hundreds of miles is one continuation of
wood, inhabited by a few Bushmen. The country for so many months
without water is uninhabitable, except at the springs. The distance by
this river road from Molapololo to Mongwato is 164 miles.
Ba-Mangwato, or Shoshong, is the chief town of Khama. The chief Sekomo
ruled at this station, until Machin, his brother, drove him from the
chieftainship, and at Machin's death, after considerable fighting,
Khama, son of Sekomo, became the chief of the people over this
territory. They belong to the Bakalihari tribe of the Bechuana family.
It is a very important station, situated at the foot of a long range of
beautiful hills, and up an opening in the range, where an ancient
river-bed passes through, and where the mission station and church are
situated, it is one of the most romantic valleys in this part of the
country. When I first knew the station, the Rev. Mr. Mackenzie had
charge, now the Rev. Mr. Hepburn lives in a very comfortable house up
this kloof. The hills are formed of various kinds of sandstone of a
brown colour. At the back, some distance beyond the church, is a very
singular hill, with a perpendicular cliff on the upper portion. The
stratification makes it look like a regular wall, with its horizontal
layers so regularly placed. In Sekomo's and Machin's time the town was
much larger, but since the wars it is considerably diminished. The
chief Khama lives in the lower town, and has only one wife, being a good
Christian and a great help to the missionary. The traders' stores are
also in the lower town, and form quite a little village by themselves.
Messrs. Francis and Clark have a fine store, and a building which is
occasionally used as a concert-hall by the traders, who sometimes muster
in considerable numbers, and out of so many a good band is got together.
Most of those stationed there are splendid musicians, both vocally and
instrumentally, so that many an enjoyable evening is spent to break the
monotony of a life so far removed from the outer world. They have also
their cricket matches, horse races, lawn tennis, football, and other
sports. Mr. Hepburn is indefatigable in his mission labour in
civilising the natives, combined with the good example set them by the
traders at the station. The chief Khama is a gentleman in every sense
of the word. I have met him and felt much pleasure in his society. He
has prohibited spirits being sold to his people, and on my last visit
but one he did me a great service, and helped me in the most kind way by
taking charge of my oxen when I had been two days without water, having
arrived at Mongwato expecting to obtain some, but there was not a drop,
not sufficient even for the people. On hearing of my arrival, he came
down and took my oxen in his charge, sent them with one of his herds to
his cattle-post eighteen miles away on the river Mokalapse, to the north
of the town, and kept them there for twelve days, until I could trek to
Matabeleland. He requires all travellers who enter his territory to
call upon him, that he may know who is passing through, in case they
require any help he can give. Those who avoid doing so, if they get
into trouble, must get out of it the best way they can. All the roads
from the south meet at Mongwato; one goes to Lake N'gami, another to the
Chobe, two to the Zambese, and one main road to the Matabeleland, with
branches leading to the Victoria Falls.
The people at one time were very unruly and troublesome to travellers.
In 1868 I was at the station when a trader came in with some brandy; we
outspanned close together outside the town. The next day the traders at
the station, and there were some fourteen, indulged too much; one in
particular had so far forgotten himself as to take a leg of pork to the
kotla or council enclosure, where the chief Machin was sitting with his
councillors, and held the leg of pork in the chief's face, and asked if
he liked the smell. These Kaffirs are like the Jews with respect to
pork. This created an uproar in the station; the trader was severely
beaten, and the whole town turned out to kill all the white men. They,
hearing of this, fortified themselves in their stores. Hundreds of
Kaffirs paraded the town, visiting the waggons with their knobkerry and
assagai, threatening destruction to all the white men. The course which
I thought best to take was to sit on my front waggon-box and smoke my
pipe; time after time hundreds surrounding my waggon, raising their
assagais as if to hurl them at me, and brandishing their kerries.
Knowing the Kaffir character pretty well, I went on smoking as if they
were most friendly, and seeing they could make no impression, they
rushed away to other parts of the town. At last the chief sent round
some of his councillors to all white men, ordering them all out of the
town, bag and baggage, by four o'clock the next day. Mr. Mackenzie, the
missionary, left the day before to go to England. Not having anything
particular to do, I, with the trader who came in with me, inspanned in
the evening to trek towards Selene Pan, forty-five miles on the road to
Molapololo, which we reached the following afternoon, and all that night
and the next day traders came treking in, until thirty-six waggons had
assembled and nearly fifty span of oxen, which looked more like a
commando than traders flying from the wrath of a powerful chief. It was
a very pretty sight. The man who committed this insult was too ill to
be removed, and was left behind. He recovered, and, I think, became a
wiser man. If it had occurred a few years before, he would have been
killed, and the traders also. He richly deserved the punishment he
received. This will show that the Kaffirs at that time had been brought
under great control, for no greater offence could be given than an
insult to their chief. Some little time after this affair, the chief,
when solicited, allowed the traders to return.
The chief Khama dresses well, and looks like a gentleman. Many of his
people also dress, as well as the women. They are strong and well-made;
some still wear their skin dresses and a profusion of beads and brass
rings, but I think in a few years these will be abandoned for European
clothes. Begging is still largely practised, particularly for tobacco.
They cultivate corn, mealies, pumpkins, melons extensively, and have
large herds of cattle of all kinds, which are kept at the different
posts away from the town, and milk is brought in on pack-oxen to those
who have no cows. They also make Kaffir beer from their Kaffir corn,
and, if well-made, it is very nice. This is the only extensive interior
trading-station in this region. There are other trading-stations
beyond: at Tati gold-fields, and in Matabeleland, and also at
Pontarnatinka, where Mr. G. Westbeach has a large store, and others
beyond, and also on the north side of the Zambese river, where a large
and increasing trade is now being carried on by the English traders at
the chief Secheke's on the north side of the Zambese.
The main direct road from Molapololo to Mongwato runs north-north-east
through a bush country with fine trees. The distance is 133 miles, and
very pretty, the formation being argillaceous limestone; most of the
hills are sandstone. At a fountain at Koopan, twenty miles on this
road, are some large masses of sandstone rocks, standing out like walls
of an old castle that cover an extensive area. In these rocks are many
fossil remains of seeds, nuts, shells, ammonites, and one trilobite,
also footprints of animals. As it was impossible to obtain them, I
remained two days to make correct sketches and measurements, being most
interesting specimens. In many parts of the interior, where this light
sandstone has been exposed by denudation, particularly in the deep beds
of those dry rivers in the Kalahara, footprints are very numerous, which
I have taken great care to copy, and also all the carvings on the rocks.
The other permanent waters on this road are Bartlanarme in the
chalk-pits, and Lepepe; also Selene pan. Both are favourite localities
for the giraffe, and here I have remained several days to hunt them, and
was fortunate enough to shoot one out of five that were coming to drink.
Eight miles from Bartlanarme we shot two out of seven, and at another
time Mr. Hume, of Port Elizabeth, a hunter, came upon several, and shot
three from the saddle, from my horse, which I lent him. One we had
brought to the waggon, and left the other two for the Bushmen. The
flesh is very fine. It is a pity such beautiful animals should be
destroyed merely for food and skins. In this part almost every variety
of game is to be found. Such a vast extent of open country--where the
white man is never seen beyond the transport road, and its inhabitants
Bushmen only,--extending in an uninterrupted forest westward 500 miles,
and the same in breadth, is no small hunting-ground to roam over for a
hunter to pick his game. Twenty years ago, I may say up to 1875, game,
as well as lions, wolves, and other beasts of prey, were much more
numerous than at the present time. In the north and west of Khama's
country up to the Zambese, along the Zouga river, are the great
Makarakara pans, and others; the large game, such as elephants,
rhinoceros, buffalo, and giraffe, were plentiful, but of late years many
hunters have been for months and scarcely met with any.
The country along the Zouga river is very level. This river enters, or,
I may say, empties Lake N'gami, the altitude being 2813 feet, and flows
to the great pan above-named in April and May, and in June and July
flows into the lake. The only outlet for the surplus water of the Zouga
is the Mababe river to the Chobe, one of the main streams of the
Zambese, and the water in the Mababe flows either way according to the
rainfall, showing the perfect level of the country. Gigantic trees grow
along these rivers and the region adjoining; baobab, measuring 108 feet
in girth, the palms, mapana, and other tropical trees and plants. A
great portion of this country the chief Khama claims, where there are
several kraals of the Makalaka, Batletle, Barutse, Bakalihari, and
others, also many of the Mesere Bushmen, and a few Hottentots and
Korannas. This region is a portion of the Zambese basin, and the
northern part is infested with the tsetse-fly, the sting or bite of
which is fatal to horses and cattle; but I have been told by the
natives, that if calves and colts are bred in the fly-country, they are
proof to the bite. We know that all the game in those districts are not
affected by the bite, and that may be the reason.
The sickly season is from September to May. Many parts are open, with
little bush; another part of the desert is thick bush, and very scarce
of water in the dry season, and is a part of what is called thirst-land
(thirst) from the dryness of the country, and where the trek Boers
suffered so much in their journey to the westward in 1877. In that year
I was at Mongwato, and came in for my share a few months later, when
there in October of that year. Mr. Harry Shelton, who had a large store
at Leshulatebes station, Lake N'gami, was coming to Mongwato with
several of his waggons for goods, and two saddle-horses he had with him,
having treked 150 miles along the road which skirts the river Zouga; he
was obliged to leave his waggons and oxen, as no water would be found
between that place and Mongwato, a distance of 160 miles, and came on
with his two horses, but on the road was obliged to leave one of them
from exhaustion, and managed to come in with the other, and was obliged
to be lifted from the saddle on his arrival, having been nearly four
days without water. On his return fourteen days after, he expected, of
course, to see the horse dead and eaten by lions; but he found him
standing by the same bush he was left at, and he recovered. This shows
how long a horse may live under such circumstances. Horses, however,
knock up far sooner than oxen from thirst. The lions and wolves must
have forsaken the country as well as the game, otherwise the horse would
have been eaten. Most of his oxen had died on his return, principally
from licking the moist mud in the pans and river. When so many days
without water they cannot drink when brought to it. The only means then
of preserving their lives is to throw buckets of water over them; but
this does not always succeed. Such are the trials and hardships we have
to put up with in a region so liable to long seasons of drought, and
where the country is so destitute of springs or standing water. But
with all these drawbacks there is a fascination that impels one on to
explore these remote and little-known regions. The bright and clear
atmosphere, the lovely mornings and evenings for travelling, the
constant change of scene, the splendid tints of the sunsets, and variety
of foliage of the vegetation, the calmness of everything around, and the
constant excitement of strange game to be seen, is a pleasure we can
seldom enjoy, and, as I have before stated, the only true enjoyment in
Africa is waggon travelling in the interior, where time is not limited.
The watershed dividing the Zambese and the Limpopo basins runs to the
east of the great Makarakara pans, in a north-east direction through the
Mashona and Matabele country, and from the south-west to the Kalahara
desert near Kaikai Pits, the elevation being 4260 feet above sea-level.
The principal antelopes of this region are the eland, koodoo, gemsbok,
sable, and leechy or lechi, pallah, ourebi, bonte, rooy, reit, bush and
steinboks, springbok, hartebeest, giraffes, and grysbok, and the zebra,
and many other kinds, which are all to be found in different localities;
and legions of the ant-bear, porcupine, earth-wolf, earth-pig,
spring-hare, meercats, and other smaller animals; wild boar and wild
dogs are seen in large packs, sometimes only a few are together;
consequently with the larger game there is always plenty of sport to be
found, if hunting is the sole amusement; but, combined with natural
history, geology, and other sciences, an explorer has not much idle time
on his hands. Locusts made this part their breeding-ground, depositing
their eggs by the million, and in October there would be immense tracts
of country covered with them several inches deep. Before their wings
came, and as the waggons travelled along the roads, thousands were
killed at every turn of the wheels. The natives eat them, and some
cattle are very fond of them also. It is nearly seven years since any
have been seen in South Africa. There are many kinds of wild teas found
in the veldt, which I have used for months, and like them. Fine forests
of timber occupy a large portion of this region, other parts are more
properly termed bush, although many trees grow in them, and extensive
open plains. The fine flat-topped kameel doom is very common, palms,
baobab, bockenhout or African beech, zuikerbosh, acacia, Kaffir orange,
ebenhout or ebony, yellow wood or yeelhout, knopjis, doorn or
lignum-vitae, cabbage tree, mahogany, sneezewood, wild olive and fig,
stinkwood, salicwood, Orlean wood or African oak, vittkut, mimosa thorn,
wagt-een-beitje, the African name is mongharn, and a host of other
trees; tuberous roots of many varieties, some eaten by the natives, and
are used medicinally, and others would make good paper--an endless
variety of herbs, of which we at present know but little.
The insect-world is legion; immense hairy spiders, and also the
trap-door spider is a wonderful creature, the mechanism of hinge, door,
and entrance are perfect works of art.
I was told by some of the people at Mongwato that there are in Khama's
territory over 200 cattle-posts, in addition to vieh-posts for sheep and
bucks. The main and only transport road from Mongwato to the
Matabeleland passes along by the east end of the range of hills by the
town, through a thick bush to the Mokalapsie river, thirty miles, a
large and broad stream in the rainy season. Upon its banks are many
cattle-posts, and it is much visited by lions. From this river the road
continues in a north-north-east direction, crossing the metley or sand
river, Tuane, on to Chakani pan, distant from Mongwato fifty-four miles,
one of the most lovely spots on this road, where I spent three weeks
exploring. I outspanned under a clump of trees close to the pan, but
had to shift my waggon into the open, the trees being full of
tree-toads, and large lizards occupied every hole in them. The toads
would drop down on to my waggon and make themselves very comfortable on
my boxes and bed. The large lizard had every look of being a dangerous
reptile to have a bite from. They were beautifully marked, the front of
the head had a well-shaped heart of a silver grey, with a well-shaped
letter Y of a rich red brown. I endeavoured to obtain a specimen, but
could not get them to come out.
There are some very fine specimens of the euphorbia and lotus trees away
in the bush, and also fine timber trees of other kinds. My delay here
for three weeks was compulsory, as there was no water to be had beyond
this point for 150 miles. This being part of the doorst land, and as
the season had been very dry, all the pans were empty. I was compelled
to wait until the storms, which are usual at this time of year
(October), filled them. The last week of my stay severe thunderstorms
were seen in the north every afternoon, which gave me hope of a good
supply on the road, and occasionally we had severe storms at the pan,
but not a drop of rain fell. The lightning was terrific; and the
thunder following, rolling over the hills and forest trees, shaking the
very ground, was grand. I always kept from three to four days' supply
of water in my waggons, in casks and iron cans, never leaving without
having them filled, which I personally looked to. But in this case I
omitted doing so, thinking my driver would attend to it, as I had been
out early in the saddle after game, and arrived at the waggon as the
oxen were inspanned ready to go forward, as I fully believed water would
be plentiful; therefore, on leaving Chakani pan, I thought we were full
up with water, instead of which we had only a day's supply. To give a
clearer insight what travelling is in a parched-up country like this,
where rain has not fallen for six months, I will quote from my journal a
week's trek through it.
_Tuesday, October 16th_.--Left Chakani pan at 9 a.m. Travelled over
very heavy sand for nine miles to a large open vlei called Lemonie,
which, when full of water, is nearly a mile in length, a great resort
for wild-fowl and that beautiful bird the berg swallow, the size of a
dove, with a brilliant golden copper-colour plumage on the back, and
light salmon colour and sky-blue breast. This pan is surrounded by
gentle rising ground with bush, where I endeavoured to secure some of
those small birds that are rare even here, being of a dark
golden-purple, and less in size than our common wren at home. Finding
no water, I proceeded on to Lotsane river, nine miles, and outspanned
for the night; no water. Found for the first time all our water-casks
empty, my driver having forgotten to fill them at Chakani pan. Having
explored up and down the river without finding any, after one kettle of
coffee being made, went to bed, with the hope of finding water
to-morrow.
_Wednesday, 17th, 4 a.m_.--Sent my driver out and went myself to look
for water; no signs of any. Treked three miles and outspanned to give
oxen a feed on green young grass, as they have not had water since
Monday afternoon. Went without coffee this morning to reserve what
little we have for our mid-day meal, then it will be exhausted. This is
the first time for twelve years I have been without water by my waggon.
_Thursday, 18th_.--Retraced my steps six miles, as I met a Boer with his
two waggons, who told me he had got a Bushman to show him where the oxen
could get water, about two miles off the road, in the bush. Sent my
span and boys down to it, but the water was so muddy I could not drink
it; filled two bottles, such as it was. The Boer told me I could get
good water eight miles beyond Phalasque vlei, the pan being a mile to
the right of the road, then I could get water along the road to carry me
to the Tati river; consequently, shall start early to-morrow to reach
it.
_Friday, 19th_.--Inspanned at 4 a.m. No sign of rain, although plenty
of storms. Treked on to Phalasque vlei; no water. Then pushed on over
a fearful sandy road at the rate of one and a half miles an hour.
Thermometer 94 degrees in the waggon. This is a God-forsaken country,
no people, no game, no birds, no water, nothing but hot sandy roads to
travel over, but beautifully-wooded and fine grass. Reached the spot
described by the Boer, saddled-up to look for the pan, found two, both
dry. Treked on another five miles, and outspanned for the night; no
water for man or beast; my forelooper drank up what little remained in
the night. He is what is termed a Cape boy, a perfect beast in the way
of eating and drinking. My driver, a Hottentot, is a fine fellow, good
at everything.
_Saturday, 20th_.--Sent Dirk forward early to look for water; went as
far as Suruly Kop, nine miles, where I had always found water in the
pan, but it was dry and hard. It was now getting serious, as I knew if
this pan failed, there was very little chance of getting any this side
of Tati, so I turned back six miles and remained the night where I had
previously slept. Fortunately the grass was young and green for the
oxen, which relieved them to some extent. No water these last two days,
not a drop in the waggon; I have brandy, but could not take any, a small
teaspoonful the stomach would not retain. To eat is out of the
question; I have tried several times, but cannot swallow.
_Sunday morning, 21st_.--Inspanned and retraced our steps six miles, as
I intend to return to Chakani pan, where I know there is water. My
driver asked for his rifle, as he would take a bushman-path through the
bush, which he thought would lead to water. He left me about 11 a.m.
All that day he never returned, which has given me great anxiety,
knowing the country swarms with lions. All night kept firing off my
rifle that he might know my whereabouts. At daybreak the wolves and
jackals began to let me know they were not far off.
_Monday, 22nd_.--Dirk, my driver, not returned. I shall never see him
any more! Passed a fearfully anxious night; my thirst is intense;
fourth day without a drop of liquid passing my lips. To stay here is
death! Set to work with my forelooper, inspanned the oxen, and
travelled night and day to reach Chakani. Arrived at Phalasque vlei at
11 a.m. Outspanned to give them a little green grass before going on.
No sooner were they free from the yoke than they started off through the
bush, evidently after water. My loop-boy I sent after them to bring
them back, but instead of following them, he went behind some bushes and
sat down. There I remained alone with my waggon in the dry veldt, my
driver, as I thought, killed by lions, and now my oxen gone, and my boy
nearly dead. The weather intensely hot, 106 degrees in the shade. I
have only one chance; leave the waggon and all my belongings to be
plundered by the Bushmen, and walk to Chakani, a distance of thirty
miles. Whilst revolving this plan in my head, a Bushman came from under
the trees to me. I made him understand I wanted him to fetch me a small
tin of water; I offered him powder, caps, and other things, worth about
two pounds; but he said it was far, pointing with his finger in the
direction, and left me. I never saw him again. Having made up my mind
to start the next morning by daybreak, with my rifle and a few biscuits,
for the water, as it would not be safe at night for lions, I heard some
footsteps coming on; looking in the direction, saw my driver Dirk
within, a hundred yards. Never was I more pleased to see a human being,
and gave him a good shake of the hand, but he brought no water. He told
me after he left the waggon, the day before, he walked on for hours
until it got dark, and he wandered about looking for water, so that he
lost the direction he came. Hearing several lions, he selected a nice
tree and climbed up, where he spent the night, and shot two large
wolves. At daybreak he climbed down and found five Bushmen looking
about; when they saw him they came up. He asked for water, but they
said there was none, which Dirk believes was not true. They wanted to
look at the gun, but he was wise enough to keep it from them; seeing he
was alone, they might have kept it. However, he left them by the two
dead wolves, and managed to strike the road, and saw the spoor of my
waggon, and followed it down to where I was outspanned. When I told him
of the forelooper and the oxen he said he would go at once and follow
their spoor, otherwise we should never see them again, and asked for a
little brandy to wash his mouth out, for he, as well as myself, could
not articulate plainly, and then started after them about 5 p.m. I was
again left alone to pass another sleepless night, and the fifth day
without water or food. I frequently rinsed my mouth out with brandy,
which kept my tongue from swelling. It was a lovely moonlight night,
and, under other circumstances, I should have enjoyed it amazingly, for
the country round was peculiar for the many stone koptjies, 150 feet in
height, large masses of granite, piled up in most grotesque forms, with
flowering plants growing between them. To pass away this anxious time I
took my rifles to inspect them; on my return I found my poor little
terrier dog on the point of death. I took him up in my lap; and with a
piteous shriek he fell dead. Poor little thing, he must have suffered
acutely. My other dog, "Bull," died on Sunday, so here I am alone, 150
miles from any white man. Once more passed the night smoking on my
waggon-box, the only thing that I could do, and about 11 a.m., on
Tuesday 23rd, as I was lying down in my waggon, I caught the sound of
oxen's feet on the road, which proved to be mine, with my driver and
forelooper bringing them on, and holding up a can to show me they had
water. What a relief! we are saved!--for I was far too weak to walk
alone 150 miles, and carry a rifle and food for so long a journey. My
driver told me after he left yesterday to follow up the spoor of the
oxen, he found my boy asleep under a bush, about a mile from the waggon,
and took him with him, and after six hours' walk came upon the oxen,
where they had been drinking at a kind of swamp in a valley, and some
twelve miles from the road we had travelled a few days before. Five
Bushmen were driving them over the brow of the hill to be out of sight
of any one looking after them.--Dirk fired his rifle to give them notice
that some one was near, when the Bushmen dispersed out of sight, and he
brought back the oxen as before stated. Five minutes later, and it
might have been too late. It was a most fortunate recovery for us all,
and for me in particular. The water, about three pints brought, was
worth much more to us than its weight in gold. I took a few
tea-spoonsful at a time, and with the rest we made some tea, and soon
after inspanned and treked to Chakani pan, there to wait again for rain.
After we had been a week there a very singular affair occurred. It
happened to be one of those dark stormy nights without rain; my driver
and the boy were sleeping in a tent attached to the waggon. About 2
a.m. he woke me and said there was some kind of an animal wanted to get
under the waggon, being pursued by two others. It had twice got under,
and being disturbed by the driver, left, but kept going round, still
followed by two others. I was up with my rifle, for in these parts we
are soon ready for what may turn up. At last the poor beast, whatever
it was, took safety between the two after oxen as they were fastened to
the waggon, and stood there quite quiet; the other two that followed
stood a little way off. By stooping low to get the animal above the
horizon, we found it was a large rooi buck, and the others were wild
dogs that had been chasing it, until all three were completely
exhausted, and could run no more. Jumping from the waggon I tried to
get a fair shot at the dogs, but the uncertain light prevented my making
a good shot. While so engaged my driver shot the poor buck that had
come to us for safety, which I was very sorry for, as I wished to shoot
the dogs, which we could have done as daylight was near, and then I
would have let the poor beast go. One dog I did shoot, the other made
his escape. On looking round the waggon in the morning the whole ground
was covered with their spoor, and close to the waggon it was completely
trampled; they must have run at least twenty miles before they came to
us, from the exhausted state they were in. The most remarkable
circumstance was that a buck in a wild country like this, seldom seeing
a waggon, should have had the sense to know, for it is not what is
called instinct, and should feel if he could get under the waggon, his
pursuers would be afraid to follow, and he would be safe, so came to us
for protection. I was much annoyed that my driver shot him, for he
should certainly have had his liberty in the morning.
The foregoing will give a slight idea of some of the trials explorers
meet with in travelling through regions where water is so scarce. I
remained at this pan up to 14th November; having consumed all the water
in it, and still no rain, fearful thunderstorms without any, I was
compelled to fall back on Mongwato, and retrace my steps fifty-four
miles to procure it. During my long stay at this pan, I had very little
sport, a few rooi bucks and guinea-fowl, also pheasants, partridges, and
doves. I was always out with my gun, and my oxen grazed where they
liked, knowing they would come for water once or twice a day, not
thinking for a moment there were any dangerous animals near. But on the
14th, at 4 a.m., we were preparing coffee ready for a trek, when we saw
two of the largest wild pigs I ever fell in with, come down to drink,
not a hundred yards from the waggon, on the opposite side of the pan.
One we soon secured, having received two shots, the other quickly
escaped. This delayed us until 7 a.m., when we treked, and had not gone
a quarter of a mile, passing a little stone kopjie, with beautiful
euphorbia and other trees, when we saw, as we thought, six rooi bucks
out on the outskirts of the wood, and 200 yards from the road. Finding
they did not move, although they were looking at us, being in long grass
we were deceived as to the nature of the animals, and when we were
opposite we stopped. I and the driver jumped off the waggon with our
rifles, with only one charge, and were walking up to them, when they
seemed to be walking down towards us. I was about to fire when Dirk
called out, "Don't fire, they are tigers." Lowering the rifle to have a
better look, sure enough they were six beauties, with their sleek
spotted coats, which made them look very handsome. As we were at least
fifty yards from the waggon, if we had fired with no more ammunition,
and they had come down upon us, it would have been very awkward. We
therefore stood our ground, watching them stretch themselves on the
ground, and then stand up, looking at us with heads erect, until they
quietly turned into the wood; and we followed their example, and turned
into the waggon. It was no use attempting to follow them up, we were
only two, and could do very little, and they might have done a great
deal to us. This hill is about a hundred and fifty feet high, and
almost daily I have walked round and over it with my shot-gun, and saw
nothing but guinea-fowl. And so ended this little leopard affair, and
we proceeded on our way towards Mongwato, sadly inconvenienced for want
of water for the oxen. But at Mokalapsie river, by digging two feet in
the sand between the granite rocks in its bed, we obtained it in
sufficient quantity to satisfy the oxen.
The lions have been a great trouble to those who keep cattle-posts on
this river-bank; the night before my arrival, they killed a horse
belonging to Mr. Francis. Many singular isolated conical hills, over a
hundred feet in height, add greatly to the beauty of the scenery, but
are great covers for the lion and leopard. Very warm, thermometer 102
degrees in the shade. Everything very dry. Pushed on to Mongwato for
water. On my arrival there was told there was no water for oxen, and if
rain does not fall the people will have to leave the town and go down to
the Limpopo river. The chief Khama came to me and said he would take
charge of my oxen and horse, and send them to the same kraal he sent
them before, if I would send a man to look after them, with one of his,
and keep them until wanted. This kind offer was gladly accepted,
consequently I had to wait for rain. On the 21st November a Boer came
in and told me rain had fallen in the north, and that I could now trek
up; but as the other Boer I had met on the road deceived me, I took no
notice of the information, and it turned out he wilfully deceived me. I
spent many pleasant evenings with the Rev. Mr. Hepburn and the traders
at the station, musical parties at Francis' store, and cricket matches
in the day. Bought a muid of Boer meal, that is, wheat ground, for 4
pounds 10 shillings the 200 lbs. A few days later we had a fine storm,
with heavy rain, and on the 26th started again for the north, and
arrived again at Chakani pan on the 30th, which was full of nice fresh
water, and found a troop of ostriches drinking at it. From thence I
pushed on, the grass being burnt up by the drought, and arrived at
Gowkwe river, one of the tributaries of the Limpopo, as are all those I
crossed from Mongwato. Two miles back from this, to the right of the
road, is the first baobab tree, a young one, twenty-seven feet in
circumference, with several large nests, each forming quite a town. The
entire country is a thick wood, stretching in every direction hundreds
of miles. The belief does not hold good in this region that forests
bring rain, for it is one of the driest parts of Central South Africa,
and has been named thirst-land, from its proverbial dryness, as my
experience can also testify. From December to the following May water
may be obtained; the rest of the year it is like what I have already
described, consequently game is scarce in the dry season; it always
follows the rain.
From Gowkwe river the road continues on to the river Shasha, the
boundary the chief Khama claimed when he gave me his boundary-line, but
this the Matabele king disputes, and claims down to the Macloutsie
river, and, in fact, all Khama's country, from previous conquest, but
Khama holds possession. The road from Gowkwe crosses several rivers
between it and the Shasha. The Sand river is broad and pretty, and
falls into the Macloutsie, which is about the same size, tributaries of
the Limpopo. They rise in the hill district of the watershed separating
the Zambese basin from the Limpopo. The distance from Mongwato to the
Shasha by road is 163 miles, crossing the Shasha river, where we find
granite and gneiss rocks, the sand being very deep in its bed, which is
about 100 yards broad, with very steep banks on both sides. No water is
ever found in any of these rivers, except in the rainy season, and then
it comes down with a rush, sometimes rising twenty feet, but lasts only
a few days or weeks. This river, according to the chief Khama, is his
northern boundary, but this Lo-Bengulu, the Matabele king, will not
acknowledge. However, after crossing the river, the road continues
north for six miles, and the Tati river is crossed, of the same size and
character as the Shasha. On its northern bank is the Tati station,
where there are a few houses occupied by English traders, and a few Boer
families, and the ruins of the large building once the store of the Tati
Gold Company, under Sir John Swinbourne, which will be more fully
described in a future chapter. The road branches off from the Tati
station, runs in a north-west direction nearly the entire way. The main
road from Tati to Matabeleland runs nearly north. The roads through the
western portion of Khama's territory leave Ba-Mangwato station and go
west for thirty-five miles, where the road branches off at Khabala
sand-pits from the Lake N'gami road, and continues north for 129 miles
until the large brak vlei Makarakara is reached. Thirty miles from
Khabala pits there are two roads at Loata, which join again at Makwa
pits, a distance of sixty-four miles between the two. Thirty five miles
beyond is Berg fountain, close to the great vlei above-named. The road
continues along the eastern shore sixty-six miles to the north-east
point of the vlei, where the Nata falls into it. From the crossing of
the Nata to Daka the road runs in a north-north-east direction, the
distance being 167 miles, passing many vleis; the principal ones treking
north are Veremoklane, twenty miles, great Ramakanyane, eighteen miles,
Tamakanya vlei, seventeen miles, Juruka vlei, Tamafo pan, Tamasibu vlei,
Stoffolds vlei, Henvicks vlei, Tabikies vlei, which is twenty miles
south of Daka. The road to Panda-ma-Tenka is eighteen miles, where Mr.
George Westbeach has a large store, and is the principal trader for all
that region, even to beyond the Zambese river at Seshekes and the
country round. He has a store there, and another nearer the Victoria
Falls, seven miles beyond his large store. All this part of the country
is drained by sluits running to the Zimboya river, which is a small
tributary of the Zambese, which it enters about sixty miles below the
falls, together with another small branch, Lutuisi river, that falls
into the great river about ten miles below the Zimboya at a great bend
of the Zambese, both passing through Wankie's territory, which now
belongs to the Matabele king. From Mr. Westbeach's great store to the
Victoria Falls is about thirty-two miles. At the falls, or above the
fall, the river is nearly a mile in width, and is 2580 feet above
sea-level. The perpendicular fall extends the whole way, falling into a
narrow fissure to some 200 feet in depth, but the opposite or lower side
is so close, and on nearly the same level with the upper fall, that it
is impossible to see the bottom from the perpetual mist or spray that
rises near the centre of the fall. The outlet of the water passes down
a narrow gorge in a sort of zigzag shape, between lofty rocks, rushing
down at a great speed until the river opens out. It is impossible to
take any accurate drawings of the falls, there is no position in which
an artist can take up a position to make an accurate drawing. I have
seen many, but they are greatly deficient in portraying the falls as
they are, or giving a correct idea of their magnificence. The island on
the south side immediately on the brink of the fall adds much beauty to
the scene. The tropical trees and plants growing everywhere about add
an extra charm to the landscape. Thirty-seven miles above the falls the
Chobe river, one of the main branches of the Zambese, comes in, which,
as described in the river basin system, forms the northern boundary of
the chief Khama's territory, that is, from the Victoria Falls to the
Chobe, up that river for forty-five miles, then crosses the desert to
the Sira pan on south, crossing the Zouga or Bot-let-le river to
Dorokarra kraal in a south-west direction to Makapolo vlei, which is the
extreme western point, then turns south-east, crossing the desert to
Selene pan, which is forty-five miles south of Mongwato, then down to
the junction of the Notuane and Limpopo. South of this line belongs to
the chief Sechele, and the western boundary to the chief Molemo at Lake
N'gami. The road from Walfish Bay to the Victoria Falls passes south of
this lake to Batuana town, where the chief Molemo rules, along the south
side of the Zouga to the town of Dorokarra, where it crosses on to the
north side, past the tree with feet, going east along by the pits and
pools, salt-pan, seven palms, to Mahutu, then turns nearly north, and
joins the other road from Mongwato, at Garuga, on to Panda-ma-Tenka, Mr.
Westbeach's stores, and Victoria Falls, which are called Mosioatanga.
The road to Mongwato from Molemo's town is the same to Dorokarra, then
turns south-east, following the river to Kumadua lake or vlei, which is
part of the Zouga river, then strikes east to Nchokotsa, and from thence
south-east to Mongwato, passing several pans, the most permanent waters
being at Klakane and Inkotsanges lime-pits. Where the road leaves the
Zouga there is a drift, and a road runs due north, passing through the
western end of the great Salt vlei Ntwetwe, on past the great baobab
letter-tree, passing a salt-pan on the left, crossing the road going to
the Victoria Falls, on to Kamakama, through the sandy forest of mapani
trees to the Mababe river and Linyanti on the Chobe, the chief Skeletu's
town. Several other roads cross this part of the desert from
Panda-ma-Tenka. The distance by road from Lake N'gami is 335 miles,
that is, 170 from the lake to Kumadua lake, and 165 from there to
Mongwato, consequently in a very dry season there is no water to be
obtained in this last distance, and where the trek Boers, in 1877, lost
so many of their people, oxen, and waggons. There are many hundred
pans, but dry in winter. There is game of every kind all over this
region, but they follow the water. The great brak pan, Makarakara, is
also dry at that time. When water is in, it is over fifty miles, both
north and south, quite an inland sea. Sand is everywhere, the roads are
fearful, quite up to the Mababe river.
Many of the mapani trees grow to a great size; the leaf has a sweet
gummy sort of varnish, of which the elephants are very fond. The palm
grows about forty feet in height; the wood is very hard, an axe with a
hard blow will not penetrate. The gigantic tree, the baobab, grows
extensively over all these regions. They are prominent objects in the
country through which you pass. Many of the stems exceed in
circumference 100 feet; their height is not in proportion to the bole;
few exceed eighty feet. The tree spreads and covers a large extent of
ground; the bark is used to make ropes, and blankets can be manufactured
from it. I obtained one, which is exceedingly strong. Bags are also
made to hold water or milk. The fruit is used to make a refreshing
drink. This tree is also called the Cream of Tartar; the fruit is
similar and much larger than an ostrich egg. These trees are calculated
to be, the largest of them, nearly 5000 years old.
The country generally is flat; there are a few hills down by the Zimboya
and Lutuisi rivers to Wankie's, on the river, conical and flat-topped.
But this part is out of Khama's territory. All east of Panda-ma-Tenka
now belongs to the Matabele king. Wankie's people and town are now on
the north side of the Zambese. To the west of that station is the
Lechuma Valley. South of Daka the land rises gradually from the
Victoria Falls, the falls being 2580 feet above sea-level, and the land
south of Daka is 3900 feet at the highest point. The southern slopes
gradually down to an altitude of 2813 feet near the great Salt vlei
Makarakara. The sickly season is from September to May. South of the
Zouga the land rises gradually until it reaches the central watershed,
at an altitude of 4260 feet. At all the permanent waters and along the
rivers are kraals occupied by many tribes, under the chief Khama, who,
with the greater portion of his people, belongs to the Bakalihari tribe.
The distance of the Victoria Falls from Ba-Mangwato is 400 miles, and
the distance from Walfish Bay to the falls is 1150 miles.