I embarked for Africa in 1840, and, after a voyage of three months,
reached Cape Town. Spending but a short time there, I started for the
interior by going round to Algoa Bay, and soon proceeded inland, and
spent the following sixteen years of my life, namely, from 1840 to 1856,
in medical and missionary labors there without cost to the inhabitants.
The general instructions I received from the directors of the London
Missionary Society led me, as soon as I reached Kuruman or Lattakoo,
then their farthest inland station from the Cape, to turn my attention
to the north. Without waiting longer at Kuruman than was necessary to
recruit the oxen, which were pretty well tired by the long journey from
Algoa Bay, I proceeded, in company with another missionary, to the
Bechuana or Bakwain country, and found Sechele, with his tribe, located
at Shokuane. We shortly afterward retraced our steps to Kuruman; but as
the objects in view were by no means to be attained by a temporary
excursion of this sort, I determined to make a fresh start into the
interior as soon as possible. Accordingly, after resting three months at
Kuruman, which is a kind of head station in the country, I returned to a
spot about fifteen miles south of Shokuane, called Lepelole (now
Litubaruba). Here, in order to obtain an accurate knowledge of the
language, I cut myself off from all European society for about six
months, and gained by this ordeal an insight into the habits, ways of
thinking, laws, and language of that section of the Bechuanas called
Bakwains, which has proved of incalculable advantage in my intercourse
with them ever since.
In this second journey to Lepelole--so called from a cavern of that
name--I began preparations for a settlement by making a canal to
irrigate gardens from a stream, then flowing copiously, but now quite
dry. When these preparations were well advanced I went northward to
visit the Bakaa and Bamangwato, and the Makalaka, living between 22° and
23° south latitude. The Bakaa Mountains had been visited before by a
trader, who, with his people, all perished from fever. In going round
the northern part of these basaltic hills, near Letloche, I was only ten
days distant from the lower part of the Zouga, which passed by the same
name as Lake Ngami; and I might then (in 1842) have discovered that
lake, had discovery alone been my object. Most of this journey beyond
Shokuane was performed on foot, in consequence of the draught oxen
having become sick. Some of my companions who had recently joined us,
and did not know that I understood a little of their speech, were
overheard by me discussing my appearance and powers: "He is not strong;
he is quite slim, and only appears stout because he puts himself into
those bags [trousers]; he will soon knock up." This caused my Highland
blood to rise, and made me despise the fatigue of keeping them all at
the top of their speed for days together, till I heard them expressing
proper opinions of my pedestrian powers.
Returning to Kuruman, in order to bring my luggage to our proposed
settlement, I was followed by the news that the tribe of Bakwains, who
had shown themselves so friendly toward me, had been driven from
Lepelole by the Barolongs, so that my prospects for the time of forming
a settlement there were at an end. One of those periodical outbreaks of
war, which seem to have occurred from time immemorial, for the
possession of cattle, had burst forth in the land, and had so changed
the relations of the tribes to each other that I was obliged to set out
anew to look for a suitable locality for a mission-station.
In going north again a comet blazed on our sight, exciting the wonder of
every tribe we visited. That of 1816 had been followed by an irruption
of the Matabele, the most cruel enemies the Bechuanas ever knew, and
this they thought might portend something as bad, or it might only
foreshadow the death of some great chief. On this subject of comets I
knew little more than they did themselves, but I had that confidence in
a kind overruling Providence which makes such a difference between
Christians and both the ancient and modern heathen.
As some of the Bamangwato people had accompanied me to Kuruman, I was
obliged to restore them and their goods to their chief Sekomi. This made
a journey to the residence of that chief again necessary, and, for the
first time, I performed a distance of some hundred miles on oxback.
Returning toward Kuruman, I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa
(latitude 25° 14' south, longitude 26° 30') as the site of a
missionary-station, and thither I removed in 1843. Here an occurrence
took place concerning which I have frequently been questioned in
England, and which, but for the importunities of friends, I meant to
have kept in store to tell my children when in my dotage. The Bakatla of
the village Mabotsa were much troubled by lions, which leaped into the
cattle-pens by night and destroyed their cows. They even attacked the
herds in open day. This was so unusual an occurrence that the people
believed they were bewitched--"given," as they said, "into the power of
the lions by a neighboring tribe." They went at once to attack the
animals, but, being rather a cowardly people compared to Bechuanas in
general on such occasions, they returned without killing any.
It is well known that if one of a troop of lions is killed, the others
take the hint and leave that part of the country. So the next time the
herds were attacked I went with the people in order to encourage them to
rid themselves of the annoyance by destroying one of the marauders. We
found the lions on a small hill about a quarter of a mile in length and
covered with trees. A circle of men was formed round it, and they
gradually closed up, ascending pretty near to each other. Being down
below on the plain with a native schoolmaster, named Mebalwe, a most
excellent man, I saw one of the lions sitting on a piece of rock within
the now closed circle of men. Mebalwe fired at him before I could, and
the ball struck the rock on which the animal was sitting. He bit at the
spot struck, as a dog does at a stick or stone thrown at him; then
leaping away, broke through the opening circle and escaped unhurt. The
men were afraid to attack him, perhaps on account of their belief in
witchcraft.
When the circle was re-formed we saw two other lions in it; but we were
afraid to fire lest we should strike the men, and they allowed the
beasts to burst through also. If the Bakatla had acted according to the
custom of the country, they would have speared the lions in their
attempt to get out. Seeing we could not get them to kill one of the
lions, we bent our footsteps toward the village; in going round the end
of the hill, however, I saw one of the beasts sitting on a piece of rock
as before, but this time he had a little bush in front. Being about
thirty yards off, I took a good aim at his body through the bush, and
fired both barrels into it. The men then called out, "He is shot! He is
shot!"
Others cried: "He has been shot by another man too; let us go to him!" I
did not see anyone else shoot at him, but I saw the lion's tail erected
in anger behind the bush, and, turning to the people said, "Stop a
little, till I load again." When in the act of ramming down the bullets
I heard a shout. Starting, and looking half round, I saw the lion just
in the act of springing upon me. I was upon a little height; he caught
my shoulder as he sprang, and we both came to the ground below together.
Growling horribly close to my ear, he shook me as a terrier dog does a
rat. The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt
by a mouse after the first shake of the cat. It caused a sort of
dreaminess, in which there was no sense of pain nor feeling of terror,
though quite conscious of all that was happening. It was like what
patients partially under the influence of chloroform describe, who see
all the operation, but feel not the knife.
This singular condition was not the result of any mental process. The
shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of horror in looking round
at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced in all animals
killed by the carnivora; and if so, is a merciful provision by our
benevolent Creator for lessening the pain of death. Turning round to
relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the back of my head,
I saw his eyes directed to Mabalwe, who was trying to shoot him at a
distance of ten or fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one, missed fire in
both barrels; the lion immediately left me, and, attacking Mebalwe, bit
his thigh. Another man--whose life I had saved before, after he had been
tossed by a buffalo--attempted to spear the lion while he was biting
Mebalwe. He left Mebalwe and caught this man by the shoulder, but at
that moment the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down
dead. The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been his
paroxysms of dying rage. In order to take out the charm from him, the
Bakatla on the following day made a huge bonfire over the carcass, which
was declared to be that of the largest lion they had ever seen. Besides
crunching the bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds on the
upper part of my arm. It was a long time in healing.
The exact position of Lake Ngami had, for half a century at least, been
correctly pointed out by the natives, who had visited it when rains were
more copious in the desert than in more recent times, and many attempts
had been made to reach it by passing through the desert in the direction
indicated; but it was found impossible, even for Griquas, who, having
some Bushman blood in them, may be supposed more capable of enduring
thirst than Europeans. It was clear, then, that our only chance of
success was by going round, instead of through, the desert.
On July 4, 1849, we went forward on horseback toward what we supposed to
be the lake, and again and again did we seem to see it; but at last we
came to the veritable water of the Zouga, and found it to be a river
running to the northeast. A village of Bakurutse lay on the opposite
bank; these live among Batletli, a tribe having a click in their
language, and who were found by Sebituane to possess large herds of the
great horned cattle. They seem allied to the Hottentot family. Mr.
Oswell, in trying to cross the river, got his horse bogged in the swampy
bank. Two Bakwains and I managed to get over by wading beside a
fishing-weir. The people were friendly, and informed us that this water
came out of the Ngami. This news gladdened all our hearts, for we now
felt certain of reaching our goal. We might, they said, be a moon on the
way; but we had the River Zouga at our feet, and by following it we
should at last reach the broad water.
When we had gone up the bank of this beautiful river about ninety-six
miles from the point where we first struck it, and understood that we
were still a considerable distance from the Ngami, we left all the oxen
and wagons, except Mr. Oswell's, which was the smallest, and one team,
at Ngabisane, in the hope that they would be recruited for the home
journey, while we made a push for the lake.
Twelve days after our departure from the wagons at Ngabisane we came to
the northeast end of Lake Ngami; and on August 1, 1849, we went down
together to the broad part, and for the first time this fine-looking
sheet of water was beheld by Europeans. The direction of the lake seemed
to be north-northeast and south-southwest by compass. The southern
portion is said to bend round to the west, and to receive the Teoughe
from the north at its northwest extremity. We could detect no horizon
where we stood looking south-south west, nor could we form any idea of
the extent of the lake, except from the reports of the inhabitants of
the district; and, as they professed to go round it in three days,
allowing twenty-five miles a day would make it seventy-five, or less
than seventy geographical miles in circumference.
Other guesses have been made since as to its circumference, ranging
between seventy and one hundred miles. It is shallow, for I subsequently
saw a native punting his canoe over seven or eight miles of the
northeast end; it can never therefore be of much value as a commercial
highway. In fact, during the months preceding the annual supply of water
from the north, the lake is so shallow that it is with difficulty cattle
can approach the water through the boggy, reedy banks. These are low on
all sides, but on the west there is a space devoid of trees, showing
that the waters have retired thence at no very ancient date. This is
another of the proofs of desiccation met with so abundantly throughout
the whole country. A number of dead trees lie on this space, some of
them imbedded in the mud right in the water. We were informed by the
Bayeiye, who live on the lake, that when the annual inundation begins,
not only trees of great size, but antelopes, as the springbuck and
_tsessebe_ (_Acronotus lunata_,) are swept down by its rushing waters;
the trees are gradually driven by the winds to the opposite side, and
become imbedded in mud.
When the lake is full, the water is perfectly fresh, but brackish when
low; and that coming down the Tamunak'le we found to be so clear, cold,
and soft, the higher we ascended, that the idea of melting snow was
suggested to our minds. We found this region, with regard to that from
which we had come, to be clearly a hollow, the lowest point being Lake
Kumadau; the point of the ebullition of water as shown by one of
Newman's barometric thermometers, was only between 207-1/2° and 206°,
giving an elevation of not much more than two thousand feet above the
level of the sea. We had descended above two thousand feet in coming to
it from Kolobeng. It is the southern and lowest part of the great river
system beyond, in which large tracts of country are inundated annually
by tropical rains. A little of that water, which in the countries
farther north produces inundation, comes as far south as 20° 20', the
latitude of the upper end of the lake, and instead of flooding the
country, falls into the lake as into a reservoir. It begins to flow down
the Embarrah, which divides into the Rivers Tzo and Teoughe. The Tzo
divides into the Tamunak'le and Mababe; the Tamunak'le discharges itself
into the Zouga, and the Teoughe into the lake. The flow begins in either
March or April, and the descending waters find the channels of all these
rivers dried out, except in certain pools in their beds, which have long
dry spaces between them. The lake itself is very low. The Zouga is but a
prolongation of the Tamunak'le, and an arm of the lake reaches up to the
point where the one ends and the other begins. The last is narrow and
shallow, while the Zouga is broad and deep. The narrow arm of the lake,
which on the map looks like a continuation of the Zouga, has never been
observed to flow either way.