THE KALAHARI AND THE BUSHMEN.
Reasons why Droughts are prevalent in South Africa--Vegetation
admirably suited to the Character of the Country--Number of Tuberous
Roots--The Caffre Water-Melon--The Mesembryanthemums--The Animal
Life of the Kalahari--The Bushmen, a Nomadic Race of Hunters--
Their Skill in Hunting--Their Food--Acuteness of their Sight and
Hearing--Their Intelligence and Perseverance--Their Weapons and
Marauding Expeditions--Their Voracity--Their Love of Liberty--
The Bakalahari--Their Love for Agriculture--Their Ingenuity in
procuring Water--Trade in Skins--Their timidity.
A geographical position, not unlike that which condemns the plains
along the western foot of the Peruvian and Bolivian Andes to perpetual
aridity, renders also the greater part of tropical and sub-tropical
Southern Africa subject to severe droughts, and in general to great
scarcity of rain. For the emanations of the Indian Ocean, which the
easterly winds carry towards that continent, and which, if equally
distributed over the whole surface, would render it capable of bearing
the richest productions of the torrid zone, are mostly deposited
on the eastern slopes of the mountain-chains, which, under various
denominations, traverse eastern South Africa from north to south; and
when the moving mass of air, having crossed their highest elevations,
reaches the great heated inland plains, the ascending warmth of that
hot dry surface gives it greater power of retaining its remaining
moisture, and few showers can be given to the central and western
lands. Thus, while the sea-board gorges of the eastern zone are clad
with gigantic forests, and an annual supply of rain there keeps a
large number of streams perpetually flowing, Damara Land, the Namaqua
country, and the Kalahari, are almost constantly deprived of moving
water.
* * * * *
From these general remarks it might be imagined that regions so
scantily supplied with one of the prime necessaries of life could be
nothing but a dead and naked waste; yet, strange to say, even the great
Kalahari, extending from the Orange river in the south, lat. 29°, to
Lake Ngami in the north, lat. 21°, and from about 24° E. long. to near
the west coast, has been called a desert simply because it contains
no flowing streams and very little water in wells; as, far from being
destitute of vegetable or animal life, it is covered with grass and a
great variety of creeping plants, interspersed with large patches of
bushes and even trees. In general, the soil is a light-coloured, soft
sand; but the beds of the ancient rivers contain much alluvial soil,
and, as that is baked hard by the burning sun, rain-water stands in
pools in some of them for several months in the year.
The abundance of vegetation on so unpromising a soil may partly be
explained by the geological formation of the country; for as the
basin-shape prevails over large tracks, and as the strata on the slopes
where most of the rain falls dip in towards the centre, they probably
guide water beneath the plains, which are but ill-supplied with
moisture from the clouds.
Another cause, which serves to counteract the want or scarcity of
rain, is the admirable foresight of Nature in providing these arid
lands with plants suited to their peculiar climate. Thus creepers
abound which, having their roots buried far beneath the soil, feel but
little the effects of the scorching sun. The number of these which have
tuberous roots is very great--a structure evidently intended to supply
nutriment and moisture when, during the long droughts, they can be
obtained nowhere else.
One of these blessings to the inhabitants of the desert is the
Leroshua, a small plant with linear leaves, and a stalk not thicker
than a crow’s quill; but on digging down a foot or eighteen inches
beneath, the root enlarges to a tuber, often as big as the head of
a young child, which, on the rind being removed, is found to be a
mass of cellular tissue, filled with fluid much like that in a young
turnip. Owing to the depth beneath the surface at which it is found,
it is generally deliciously cool and refreshing. Another kind, named
_mokuri_, is seen in other parts of the country, where long-continued
heat parches the soil. This plant is an herbaceous creeper, and
deposits under ground a number of tubers, some as large as a man’s
head, often in a circle, a yard or more horizontally from the stem.
The natives strike the ground on the circumference of the circle
with stones, till, by hearing a difference of sound, they know the
water-bearing tuber to be beneath. They then dig down a foot or so and
find it.
But the most wonderful plant of the desert is the Kengwe, the
water-melon of the Caffres. In years when more than the usual quantity
of rain falls, vast tracts of the country are literally covered with
these juicy gourds, and then animals of every sort and name, including
man, rejoice in the rich supply.
The creeping plants of the desert serve, moreover, a double purpose;
for, besides their use as food, they fix, by means of their extensive
ramifications, the constantly shifting sands--thus rendering similar
services to those of the sand-reed (_Ammophila arundinacea_) on the
dunes along the sandy coasts of the North Sea.
The Mesembryanthemums are another family of plants admirably adapted
to the Kalahari, as their seed-vessels remain firmly shut while the
soil is hot and dry, and thus preserve the vegetative power intact
during the highest heat of the torrid sun; but when rain falls, the
seed-vessel opens and sheds its contents, just when there is the
greatest likelihood of their vegetating. This is the more wonderful, as
in other plants heat and drought cause the seed-vessels to burst and
shed their charge.
One of this family possesses a tuberous root, which may be eaten raw;
and all are furnished with thick, fleshy leaves, with pores capable of
imbibing and retaining moisture from a very dry atmosphere and soil; so
that if a leaf is broken during the greatest drought it shows abundant
circulating sap.
The peculiar and comparatively abundant vegetation of the arid plains
of South Africa explains how these wastes are peopled by herds of
herbivorous animals, which in their turn are preyed upon by the lion,
the panther, or the python. Hundreds of elands (_Boselaphus oreas_)
gemsbucks, koodoos, (_Strepsiceros capensis_), or duikers (_Cephalopus
mergens_), may often be seen thirty or forty miles from the nearest
water. These, having sharp-pointed hoofs well adapted for digging, are
able to subsist without water for many months at a time, by living on
moist bulbs and tubers; while the presence of the rhinoceros, of the
buffalo and gnu (_Catoblepas Gnu_), of the giraffe, the zebra, and
pallah (_Antilope melampus_), is always a certain indication of water
being within a distance of seven or eight miles.
[Illustration: KOODOO.]
The tribes of the Kalahari consist of Bushmen, probably the aborigines
of the southern part of the continent, and of Bakalahari, the remnants
of an ancient Bechuana emigration.
The diminutive Bushman occupies nearly the lowest degree in the scale
of humanity. Equalled in size by the Chimpanzee, far surpassed by
the Gorilla, and with as little prominence of the nasal bone as in
those highest of the _Simiæ_, he nevertheless walks erect, and by the
equal and uninterrupted series of his comparatively small teeth, by
his well-developed great toe and the large opposable thumb, by his
plantigrade foot and prehensile hand, vindicates his claim to the genus
man. Inhabiting the arid deserts of South Africa, from the confines of
the Cape Colony to the banks of the Zambesi, or possibly even as far
north as the valley of the Nile, he is the only real nomad in South
Africa, as the scanty means of subsistence the land affords compel him
to a life of constant wandering. He never cultivates the soil excepting
perhaps for the sake of a little dacha or wild hemp for smoking, nor
rears any domestic animal save wretched dogs. As a hunter he rivals the
American Indian in his intimate acquaintance with the habits of the
game, and the skill he evinces in their capture. He follows them in
their migrations from place to place, and proves as complete a check
upon their inordinate increase as the other carnivora. When game is
scarce, he manages to live on bulbs, snakes, lizards, termites, ants’
eggs, locusts, and any other garbage he can get. Inured to every
privation, he equals the camel in his endurance of hunger and thirst,
and will remain for days without tasting a drop of water, except such
as is contained in the pulp of succulent plants. His refuge at night is
some natural cave or self-made burrow, or the shelter of a bush, where,
covered with the skin of a sheep or antelope, he rests like a wild
animal in his lair.
It may naturally be supposed that a life like this must act
unfavourably on his physical development; but, though apparently weak,
his meagre body is capable of great exertion. His sight and hearing are
remarkably acute, as he is constantly practising them in the pursuits
of the chase; but it would almost seem as if he were devoid of taste,
smell, and feeling, for he expresses no disgust at the most loathsome
food, and is quite insensible to all changes of temperature.
When each individual only seeks the momentary gratification of his
first animal wants, without any thought of the future, the ties of
society must necessarily be very slack. Thus, the whole nation is
subdivided into small hordes or families, and even these are frequently
forced to separate as the same place does not afford sufficient
nourishment for all. There is no distinction of hereditary rank; bodily
strength is the only quality conferring superiority, and enables its
fortunate possessor to tyrannize over his weaker companions.
Though occupying about the same rank in the human family as the
Fuegians, and leading a mere brute existence, the Bushmen give many
proofs of intelligence. They are with difficulty roused to exertion,
but when they have once conquered their habitual laziness, an uncommon
perseverance characterises all their undertakings. Nothing will induce
them to quit the spoor of an animal they have once pursued; they will
dig for days in places where they expect to find some water.
Both in the fabrication and the use of their weapons, they show great
ingenuity and skill. Like the South American Indians, they understand
the art of poisoning their arrows, which scarcely ever miss the mark
within a distance of eighty paces; they also have recourse to pitfalls,
poisoned water, and other stratagems. In the art of surprising their
game, they can hardly be surpassed. It is not an easy task, in the
midst of a naked plain, to avoid the eye of the shy antelope or of
the far-sighted ostrich, so as to be able to approach them within a
distance of fifty or sixty paces. This, however, they perform, by
slowly creeping along almost on their bellies, by strewing dust over
their bodies, so as not to be betrayed by any difference of colour,
and by remaining motionless as soon as the animal shows any marks of
attention. This tedious pursuit often lasts several hours, without ever
tiring their patience; and the prey thus tracked, however swift and
wary, but seldom escapes them.
In the marauding expeditions which they frequently undertake for the
purpose of stealing the cattle of their neighbours, the Caffres,
Bechuanas, or Boors--for, having no property themselves, they have
little regard for the property of others--they show no less expertness
and cunning, never venturing an attack before having first carefully
spied out every circumstance, and taken every precaution to ensure
success. At the time of the last quarter of the moon, their thefts are
most to be feared, for they then execute their robberies in the dark
before midnight, and afterwards profit by the moonlight for a more
rapid flight.
Their physiognomy has the characteristic traits of the Hottentot race,
but their eye is infinitely more sharp and wild, their countenance more
expressive and intelligent, and all their gestures more lively--a
difference caused, no doubt, by the greater mental and bodily actions
to which a life full of hardships and privations constrains them.
As may be imagined from the few ideas it has to express, their language
is very poor, and, on account of its peculiar and characteristic click
and its harsh gutturals, more resembles the screeching of an animal
than a human idiom.
When a horde has been successful in some hunting or marauding
expedition, it keeps the fact as secret as possible, for as soon as the
intelligence spreads, everyone hastens to the spot to come in for his
share of the feast.
For fear of being obliged to divide with others, the prey is devoured
as fast as possible, with inconceivable gluttony, and what cannot be
used is instantly destroyed, merely from the dog-in-the-manger motive,
to keep others from its enjoyment. When, for instance, the Bushmen
have found a nest of ostrich eggs, and circumstances will not allow
of their remaining on the spot, they take away as many as they can
carry, and break the rest; or, when they meet with a great herd of
springbocks, they will wound as many as possible with their poisoned
arrows, though six or eight would suffice them with food for many days.
It is a state of society like that to which, probably, the communists
would reduce civilized Europe, if their insane doctrines could ever
be realized. Despite the many privations they have to endure, the
Bushmen prefer the utter freedom of the desert to the constraint of an
agricultural and pastoral life. They live in the Kalahari by choice,
the Bakalahari from compulsion, and both possess an intense love of
liberty.
The Bakalahari are traditionally reported to be the oldest of the
Bechuana tribes driven into the desert by a fresh migration of their
own nation. Though living ever since on the same plains with the
Bushmen, under the same influences of climate, enduring the same
thirst, and limited to the same scanty food for centuries, they still
retain in undying vigour the Bechuana love for agriculture and domestic
animals, hoeing their gardens annually, though often all that they can
hope for is a supply of melons and pumpkins, and carefully rearing
small herds of goats, although to provide them with water is a task
of no small difficulty, since the dread of hostile visits from the
adjacent Bechuana tribes makes them choose their abode far from the
nearest spring or pool, and leads them not unfrequently to hide their
supplies by filling the pits with sand and making a fire over the spot.
When they wish to draw water for use, the women come with twenty or
thirty of their water vessels in a bag or net on their backs. These
water vessels consist of ostrich egg-shells, with a hole in the end
of each, such as would admit one’s finger. The women tie a bunch of
grass to one end of a reed about two feet long, which they insert in a
hole dug as deep as the arm will reach, and then ram down the wet sand
firmly round it. Applying the mouth to the free end of the reed, they
form a vacuum in the grass beneath, in which the water collects, and in
a short time rises into the mouth. An egg-shell is placed on the ground
alongside the reeds, some inches below the mouth of the sucker. A straw
guides the water into the hole of the vessel as she draws mouthful
after mouthful from below; and thus the whole stock of water passes
through her mouth as a pump, and when taken home is carefully buried
to prevent its loss by evaporation. A short stay among the thirsty
Bakalaharis might teach us better to appreciate the blessings of an
abundant supply of water.
These poor people generally attach themselves to influential men in
the different Bechuana tribes near to their desert home, in order to
obtain supplies of spears, knives, tobacco, and dogs, in exchange for
the skins of animals which they kill. These are small carnivora of
the feline race, including two species of jackal, the dark and the
golden, the former of which has the warmest fur the country yields,
while the latter is very handsome when made into the skin-mantle called
kaross. Next in value follow the small ocelot, the lynx, the wild and
the spotted cat. Great numbers of duiker and steinbuck skins are also
obtained, besides those of lions, panthers, and hyænas.
The Bakalahari are a timid race, and in bodily development frequently
resemble the aborigines of Australia. They have thin legs and arms,
and large protruding abdomens, caused by the coarse indigestible food
they eat. Their children’s eyes have no lustre, and such is their want
of the animation so natural at that age that Dr. Livingstone never saw
them at play.
A Bechuana may meet a troop of Bakalahari, and domineer over the whole
with impunity; but when he meets a Bushman he is fain to adopt a more
humble tone, well knowing that if the request for tobacco is refused,
the free son of the desert may endeavour to obtain it by a poisoned
arrow.
[Illustration: TOWER IN AGADES.]