CHAPTER V.

FROM LIKATLONG TO WONDERFONTEIN.

Batlapin life--Weaver-birds and their nests--A Batlapin

farmstead--Ant-hills--Travelling Batlapins--An

alarming accident--Springbockfontein--Gassibone

and his residence--An untempting dish--On the bank

of the Vaal--Iguanas--Christiana--Bloemhof--Stormy

night--Pastures by the Vaal--Cranes--Dutch

hunters--A sportsman’s Eldorado--Surprised by black

gnus--Guinea-fowl--Klerksdorp--Potschefstroom--The Mooi

River valley--Geological notes--Wonderfontein and its

grottoes--Otters, birds, and snakes.

Likatlong, the residence of the chief Yantje, is the capital of the

most southerly of the Batlapin tribes. The name signifies “union,”

probably in reference to the junction of the two rivers. The town

consisted of three groups of farmsteads, each farmstead containing

from two to four huts, generally six feet high, enclosed by hedges

made of dry branches. The huts in the central groups exhibited the

greatest appearance of life and industry, and extended as far as the

river. In the middle of them was an open space, marked by the ruins

of a mission-house that had been burned down some years previously.

A short distance from the mission-house stood the church, a long but

insignificant-looking edifice, built of unbaked bricks, with a gabled

roof covered with dry grass. At the time of my visit there was no

missionary there, but the London Missionary Society, in whose district

it lies, have since sent out one of their body.

Seen from the right bank of the river, the town, with its groups of

farmsteads arranged symmetrically in rows, looked very neat. The

streets, as the open spaces between the enclosures might be called,

were full of life; women were hastening down to the water with great

clay pitchers on their heads, or toiling along towards their homes

breathless under loads of dried grass or brushwood; while children, all

naked, were either tending the cattle in the pasture-land, or playing

in swarms upon the river’s edge. To the activity and plodding industry

of the women, the _dolce far niente_ of the men offered a striking

contrast; as a general rule, they were to be seen idly basking in the

sun, like snakes recovering from the exertion of swallowing their last

meal.

The jackets and stockings of many of the men were of European make,

but some of them had garments of leather, imperfectly tanned; on

their heads they had small hats, made of plaited grass or rushes.

They were mostly of middle height, neither so tall as the Zulus, nor

so powerfully built as the Fingos, their complexions striking me as

remarkably clear and bright. Their features are spoilt by the excessive

width of the nose--a disfigurement which is to be attributed very much

to the use of an iron spoon for the purposes of a pocket-handkerchief.

Most justly they deserved their general reputation for idleness, as, in

spite of the natural fertility of their country, they took scarcely any

trouble to cultivate cereals, and rarely had any transactions at the

Kimberley market.

In a moral point of view, the late war between the English and the

Batlaros, a kindred tribe of the Batlapins, has had a very beneficial

effect. Previously, especially at the time of the first discovery of

the river-diggings, the arrogance of Yantje’s demands knew no bounds;

and his people were encouraged to make such repeated encroachments

into the province, that the British rule on the Vaal River was never

perfectly settled. The English victory, however, brought all these

disturbances to an end.

After leaving the outskirts of Yantje’s town we found ourselves in

a part of the Harts valley which was much more lonely, there being

no other native settlements of any importance for some considerable

distance. The two next are Taung and Mamusa. Taung, not unfrequently

retaining its name of Mahura’s Town, after a former governor, is about

seventy miles from the mouth of the river, and is the residence of

an independent Batlapin chief, Mankuruane. Mamusa, the abode of an

independent Koranna chief, is another forty miles higher up the river.

I did not visit it on this journey, but I was told that the chief’s

name was Mashon, that he was called Taibush by the Boers, and that he

was a very old man--some saying that he was 112, others even asserting

that he was 130 years of age.

Between Likatlong and Mamusa there are numerous insignificant native

villages, nine out of ten of them being occupied by Batlapins; though

above Taung there are several belonging to the Barolong people, the

Korannas appearing only eastward of Mamusa. With the exception of the

Koranna villages, they are generally found either on, or only just

below the summit of the heights adjoining the river, and rarely contain

more than eight farmsteads. Amongst the very few that lie in the valley

is Mitzima, the largest of all, containing about thirty huts. The

fields and gardens belonging to the people lie partly in the valley

and partly on the hillsides, the crops being kaffir-corn, maize, and

sugar-cane, which grows seven or eight feet in height.

All along our way up the Harts valley the numerous defiles crossing

our path had compelled us to make many deviations that involved

considerable loss of time. We were halting for rest, not many miles

from Likatlong, when we were visited by an old man and a youth, who

wanted to do a little business with the “makoa,” white man. The high

prices that they demanded for their goods greatly surprised me, until

I found that the natives even of these parts had learnt the value of

English money.

As we went on we had several good chances of sport in the woods and

long grass of the valley, and in the bushes by the river-banks. Near

the river we found four different kinds of bustards, the two smaller

sorts congregating in flocks; the two larger, one of which was of

unusual size, rising from the bushes in pairs; and, near the thorns,

we saw several pairs of the great cape-partridge scratching up the

ground. Sand-grouse, too, were basking on the sandy spots by the shore

and on the slopes; the reedy places being haunted by wild ducks, of

which we secured a plentiful supply. On the more open spots, where the

river was overhung by mimosas, the lovely weaver-birds, yellow, with

a black spot on the throat, had stripped off the leaves from the ends

of the branches, and replaced them by their wonderful nests, that hung

suspended like some curious fruit.

These nests were about four or five inches long, and were constructed

in the shape of an elliptic cone, the small end of which was attached

to the bough, the transverse diameter being between two and three

inches in length. The aperture, on the flat side of the nest,

underneath, was crescent-shaped, and only just large enough to admit

one bird at a time. The material was blades of grass, collected fresh

and pliant, and so cunningly woven together as to give the finished

work all the appearance of the best-skilled art. The construction of

the nests was so firm that they would defy the most violent storms,

but yet they were hung so delicately that the gentlest breeze would

put them in motion. As they swayed to and fro they made the prettiest

of reflections in the mirror of the peaceful stream, darkened already

by its carpet of tender water-plants--a picture rendered still more

striking when one of the bright little birds would issue from its home,

and, hovering about, would seem to add the radiancy of some sparkling

gem. The birds themselves did not show any timidity, and towards

evening we found that we could take them in their nests, any that we

had startled soon flying back and settling down in patient curiosity to

watch our movements.

[Illustration: NESTS OF WEAVER-BIRDS.]

On the third day of our travelling we came in sight of a range of

hills to the east of us, running from the south, and projecting some

way into the Harts valley. I was told that they were in the district

of the chief Mitzima, and that the point at the extreme end was called

Spitzkopf by the Boers.

In various parts of the plains we were crossing there were patches

of bright red, giving the effect of crimson carpets spread upon the

ground. On closer inspection they proved to be masses of free-blooming

lilies. Other spots were distinguished by a different species of lily,

growing very luxuriantly, and having very dark green leaves, which were

perpetually found covered with many varieties of weevils.

Near a sugar-plantation that we passed I saw four women at work; and

as we wanted some milk I asked them if they could get some, without

my waiting until we reached Mitzima. They all seemed pleased at being

asked, and sticking their hoes into the ground ran off, laughing and

shouting, to their huts, about 300 yards away. They were not long in

returning, two of them carrying earthenware pans, and the third, a

lean old hag, bringing a wooden bowl, all full of sweet new milk. The

only remuneration they required was a lump of tobacco. I was rather

surprised at the choice; but my man, Gert, who acted as interpreter,

told me that they were very fond of snuff--an assertion which was

confirmed by their taking the tobacco, and after rubbing it in their

hands, stuffing it into their capacious nostrils, chuckling out

“Monati! monati!” (That is fine! that is fine!)

In the course of the afternoon we passed a farmstead composed of three

huts, which in cleanliness surpassed anything I ever saw amongst

the Batlapin tribe. They were built of strong stakes, and were very

spacious. Beneath a shed formed of rushes stood a good substantial

waggon, and in the courtyard was another smaller waggon, to which

the farmer and his labourers were doing some repairs. Besides this I

noticed--what was a great rarity in the Batlapin country in 1873--a

good, useful plough. Half a dozen leathern milk-bags, too, were hanging

in the cattle-enclosure. In the shed, two Batlapin men were busy making

a waggon-tilt out of an old piece of canvas; and I do not remember

ever having seen any of the tribe working so industriously. Fifteen

little black children were playing merrily enough in the immediate

neighbourhood of the farm, none of them having the least pretence to

clothing beyond a narrow strip of leather serving for an apron; a few

elder children were minding the cattle on the river-bank a mile away;

and altogether the place had a singular air of comfort and prosperity.

Nearer and nearer we approached the heights that had opened before us

in the morning. They were the most northerly branch of the chain of

hills beginning near Hebron, on the right bank of the Vaal. I found

the geological formation especially interesting, the rocks sometimes

standing in upright blocks, ranged side by side in pillars almost like

petrified human forms, and sometimes lying piled up horizontally, like

the steps of a gigantic staircase.

Mitzima’s village was on the nearer side of the Spitzkopf. We did not

stay long, but started off again late in the afternoon. The number of

the glens, however, that we had to cross delayed us so much, and tried

the strength of our animals so severely, that it proved impossible for

us to proceed far that night, and we came to a halt about a mile and

a half short of the mountain-head, not far from three little Batlapin

farms. A storm that seemed to be gathering at our back made us cautious

in our movements, as we knew that a rainfall of even half an hour

would be enough to convert any one of the defiles into a rushing and

dangerous torrent. In spite of the evening being so far advanced,

our arrival did not escape notice at the farms, and several of the

occupants hurried out to pay us a visit.

The night spent here was bright and fine, although decidedly cold. The

rocks on the hillside cast long, deep shadows, falling like phantoms

across the plain; the Spitzkopf, like a giant on guard, seemed to keep

perpetual watch; while the shrill voices of the Batlapins, chanting

their wild songs, echoed from the distance, and completed the weird

effect of the general scene.

[Illustration:

BATLAPINS ON A JOURNEY. _Page 126._]

Next morning, after purchasing some gourds from the owner of one of

the farms, we pushed on still to the north. The further we ascended the

Harts River, the more fertile we found the country. Nothing attracted

my attention more than the small plantations of sugar-cane, but I

was surprised to hear that the only use to which the natives put the

prolific crop is to cut the lower and more juicy section of the stem

into morsels that they can chew.

We had now to travel across a plain devoid alike of trees or shrubs,

but where I noticed some ant-hills of a peculiar form. Instead of being

of the ordinary hemispherical type, about four feet high, and with

two or three apertures, such as may be seen by thousands on many of

the South African levels, these were open funnels six feet high, with

diameters ranging from three to ten inches long, and made of a kind of

cement formed by grains of sand agglutinated by the help of the mucous

saliva of the ant. Generally they stood in groups of not less than

three, and the soil all round them was quite bare for several feet.

Outside these, again, were funnels of the same design, but not yet

completed, and consisting merely of a conical pile of earth without the

aperture at the top.

About noon we made a halt near the river, but were disappointed to find

that the only water we could obtain was from the pools, which were

rendered disgustingly foul by the cattle driven into them day by day by

the natives. It may well be imagined that the food we had to prepare

for ourselves with this water did not prove particularly savoury.

In the middle of our meal some Batlapins, from the villages on the

hills to our right, came riding up. They were mounted on huge oxen;

but seeing us, they alighted, and came and sat down near our fire,

making themselves at once quite at home. Their beasts, without being

unsaddled, stood by perfectly still, as if rooted to the ground.

The appearance of these travelling parties of Batlapins is extremely

grotesque. The oxen came scrambling along as if they were running for a

wager. A stick is thrust through a hole in their nostrils, to each end

of which is tied a thong about two yards long; this is the bridle; a

sack or piece of leather girded on the back serves for a saddle; a pair

of leather or iron stirrups, fastened to a strap, generally completes

the trappings.

Our visitors were very friendly and disposed to be communicative. In

answer to my inquiry how far it was to Springbockfontein, one of them

pointed to the sun above our heads, and said, “Start your waggons at

once, and before yon ruler sinks to his rest, you may draw your water

from the stream where the springbocks quench their thirst.”

[Illustration:

ACCIDENT IN THE HARTS RIVER VALLEY. _Page 129._]

In the neighbouring fields of gourds and maize, I found what seemed

to me a good opportunity for enriching my entomological collection, but

it ended in a misfortune. I succeeded in finding some fine specimens

of tiger-beetles (_Cicindelidæ_), but I was so engrossed in my

pursuit that I did not observe that a storm had been gathering, and

was quite taken by surprise when the lightning flashed a few hundred

yards lower down the stream, and the heavy rain drops began to fall. I

was very soon wet through. Scampering back towards the waggon, I found

three of the natives still huddling round the all but extinguished

fire, but my own people gone to a little distance to secure some plants

that had been left out to dry, and to bring in the guns that happened

to be outside against a tree close by. I jumped into the waggon, and

almost immediately my friends returned. They handed me the plants all

right, and were just passing me the guns, when a flash of lightning

struck the ground close behind us; the crash of thunder that followed

was terrific. In eager haste to hang my gun in its proper place inside

the waggon, I had caught hold of the barrel with my left hand, but

the shock of the thunder so startled my friend that he jerked one of

the triggers, and the charge of hare-shot with which it was loaded

went off. I can remember nothing beyond the glare and the noise and a

momentary sensation of pain; stunned by the injury, I lost my balance

and fell out of the waggon.

It was at first supposed that I was dead; and most providential it

was that the wounds were not fatal. The shot had passed right through

my left hand, and grazing my left temple, had pierced the brim of my

hat, leaving the holes blocked up with my hair. For two days I was

completely blind with the eye, and suffered from acute inflammation in

it for more than a fortnight.

A native view of the occurrence should not be left without record.

While my friends in the presence of the three Batlapins were discussing

whether it would not be possible to reach Springbockfontein that night,

another old Batlapin, who had witnessed what had happened, came up, and

addressing one of the three, apparently his son, said, “Go, lad, and

look inside that waggon; there lies a Bas dying or dead; he is killed

for his wickedness; he was storming against his friends for being

so slow in giving him his gun, and the great Morena struck him with

lightning and thunder. He fell from the waggon. Never more will he eat

his maize or suck his sugar-cane, if he is not dead already.”[4]

Although Springbockfontein was really at no great distance, my

condition was such that it proved quite impossible for us to reach

it that night; the suffering that I endured from the jolting of the

waggon made us abandon our intention, and after two hours’ travelling

we halted for the rest which was indispensable. However, next morning,

quite early, we accomplished the rest of the way.

Springbockfontein is a settlement of white men, consisting of nothing

more than some tents and reed-huts, occupied by four Dutch families,

who, apparently, had been driven by debt to flee from their former

homes in the Transvaal. I found similar settlements in other Bechuana

districts, the occupants supported partly by hunting, and partly by

wood-cutting or leather-dressing. As a general rule they appear to lead

a miserable existence, and may be said to be about the most uncivilized

portion of the Dutch population of South Africa; being without the

means of procuring medical assistance, their condition when attacked by

sickness is very deplorable.

The Springbock streams were quite insignificant, and as they made their

way towards the Harts River, they passed through a morass where I found

large numbers of the common South African tortoise.

During the morning I had rallied considerably, and determined to

proceed up the valley without delay. My plan was to pass through the

district under the control of the Batlapin chief, Gassibone, at that

time independent; but owing to the wrong directions given us by some

Dutchmen at the springs, we wandered on till nearly evening, when two

natives that we chanced to meet informed us of our mistake, telling us,

moreover, that our only way to get where we wanted was by going right

back again to the Harts River. All day long the toil had been very

great, the soil in many places being so sandy that it was necessary

to give the cattle continual rests to recover from their exhausting

labours. The country as we advanced became more and more wooded,

covered in many spots with small tracts of camel-thorns. To compensate

in a degree for the loss of time, there was no lack of good sport.

Striking next, according to the directions of the natives, right

across the woods to the east-south-east, we made for the chain of hills

where the principal kraal of the chief was said to lie. The road, I

think, was even worse than any we had yet seen, and it required both

skill and vigilance to keep the team from injuring themselves, and

the waggon from toppling over. A monotonous bush country brought us

to a mimosa-forest, where we met some of Gassibone’s people, who took

every trouble to explain the nearest way to their chieftain’s home.

We had to cross a depression in the hills, which brought us to a deep

circular hollow; in the background of this, there was a meeting of

mountain ridges, forming a number of valleys, in one of which the kraal

was situated. As we entered the valley it could not but strike us how

fairly it was cultivated.

But it was now growing late. The day had been long and unusually

toilsome. We were all fatigued, and I ordered a halt for the night.

After allowing our bullocks to graze awhile, we started off in good

time next morning for Gassibone’s quarters. The women were already busy

at their work; the children, as usual, driving the cattle to their

pasture. With fine warm weather, our whole party was refreshed and in

the best of spirits.

The full title of this chief is Morena Botlazitse Gassibone. Two years

after this time, he voluntarily submitted himself to the Transvaal

Republic, and since the annexation of the republic by the English, he

has become a British subject. He is said to be addicted to many vices,

of which drunkenness is not the least.

The houses in the place were very similar in character to those at

Likatlong, the population being about 2500.

[Illustration: BATLAPINS SEWING.]

My scheme was now to strike out towards the Vaal River, and thence to

proceed north-eastwards into the Transvaal. Uncertain how to discover

the best road, I resolved to send to the chief, and ask for a guide.

I entrusted one of my friends with the message, and told him at the

same time to try and procure us some milk. In return for a shilling

the negro potentate willingly promised us as many pans of milk as we

wanted, and in consideration of another shilling undertook to supply us

with a guide, who should put us on our way upon the open plains.

His hut was cylindrical, about sixteen feet in diameter, with a conical

roof, the highest point of which was about ten feet from the ground,

and supported by a mimosa-stem in the centre. At the foot of this was

seated one of the wives of the magnate, dressed in a gown of European

calico, and holding on her lap a wooden platter full of a favourite

Batlapin delicacy. By means of Gert as an interpreter, the chief

invited my friend to partake of the dish, and he, in his desire to be

courteous, accepted the proffered hospitality; but no sooner had he

discovered what he had taken than he let it fall again; it consisted of

dried locusts, the very sight of which was enough to disgust him. On

his return, he vowed that nothing should induce him a second time to

undertake the office of ambassador to a Bechuana prince.

The inside of the hut was lined with clay, the floor being smoothly

cemented; hanging on posts all round was a variety of garments made

of the skins of aard-wolves, grey foxes, jackals, and black-spotted

genets; opposite the doorway on the main pillar hung an American

breech-loader; and on the floor, close to the wall, were beds, formed

in the most primitive way of sheepskins and goatskins.

In the course of the conversation Gassibone expressed his regret that

the gourds were not ripe enough to send me, and that he was unable to

give me any meat, as on account of the deficiency of water close at

hand he had sent all his own herds to the pastures by the Vaal River.

My own observation soon afterwards confirmed what he had said, and I

found that there was really no water fit to drink between the Harts

and the Vaal. In the settlement itself the stream was so reduced that

the spring was always besieged by a crowd of women, waiting their turn

to get what supply they could, and when my servant made his appearance

they hooted him so lustily that he had no alternative than to make a

retreat with his bucket empty. Our only resource was to purchase our

water of the women, and to make good the defect by laying in a stock of

a native fruit something like a medlar, by which we might at any time

temporarily allay our thirst.

Only waiting to procure a stock of maize from some of the people, we

were soon ready to proceed on our way. It was our wish to fill all our

vessels with water before starting, but the guide provided by the chief

assured us that there was no necessity whatever for this precaution,

as there would be many available places where we could get plenty as

we went along. Naturally enough, we took his word, but found ourselves

thoroughly deceived; until we reached the Vaal not a drop of drinking

water was to be seen, and for the whole of that day and the following

we had to endure, throughout the burning heat, all the miseries of

increasing thirst. The country between Gassibone’s kraal and the river

is an uniform table-land, partly covered with trees and bushes, and

partly, in damp years especially, overgrown with long grass.

Pointing to a tall acacia that stood out conspicuously over the plain

to the south, our guide informed us that it was situated beside a rushy

spot, which we should reach before sunset, and where there was no doubt

we should find water. We did, indeed, reach the place in the course

of the afternoon, but it proved a mere dried-up rain-pool, the only

semblance of water which it contained being a thick green semi-fluid

full of tadpoles, insect larvæ, and infusoria, and smelling strong of

ammonia. The very look of it was enough ordinarily to excite disgust,

but so intense was our thirst that we ladled out the stuff, teeming

with visible and invisible life as it was, into a napkin, and tried

to filter it into a tumbler. We managed to get about a glass and a

half of slimy liquid which we divided amongst our whole party, but in

spite of the craving for more drink, we were not induced to repeat the

experiment.

We rested about two hours, and made another advance on our way before

camping for the night. As we approached the Vaal, the trees and bushes

disappeared, and the grass became shorter, forming excellent pasturage

for cattle.

On the evening of the next day, just as the sun was beginning to set

behind the Free State shore of the Vaal, a little Batlapin boy, who was

tending a lot of goats on the plain, told us that the river was close

behind some hills to which he pointed. Looking in that direction we

soon caught sight of the huts used by the cowherds who were in charge

of Gassibone’s cattle.

Beyond a question, the Vaal is one of the most treacherous rivers in

South Africa; its banks almost to the very middle of the channel are so

soft and slippery, that draught-animals going to drink are liable to

sink so deep into the mud that it is impossible to extricate them; in

such cases they have been known to die of starvation. Accidents of this

kind are especially likely to occur with the aged beasts which, having

got knocked-up on the way, are left behind to await their owner’s

return; this, if he has gone on a business journey, is occasionally

delayed for months. I have myself experienced some mischances arising

from this condition of the margin of the river.

My people lost no time in going to find out where the Batlapin cattle

went to drink, and while they were making their investigation, I took

my gun and strolled down towards the water’s edge. It was getting dusk,

and I was desirous, if I could, to shoot some wild fowl for supper.

In order to make as little noise as possible, I walked on tiptoe over

the firmer parts of the shore, and whenever the trailing branches

obstructed my path, I stooped down gently to remove them. Before long

there was a sudden cackling on my left, followed by a sonorous flapping

of wings, and two of the wild geese (_Chenalopex_) of which I was

in search were making their escape down the river. I dropped upon my

knee, prepared to fire, but all at once the feeling came upon me that

to break the charming sweetness of the scene by the noise of a shot was

almost like a desecration. The placid waters of the stream stretched

out towards the west, forming a gleaming zone of beauty; the light of a

distant hut came sparkling through the gloom; it could not be otherwise

than that, in such association, my memory should recall the picture of

another stream, in another land, far away, where I had dreamily passed

many and many an evening fishing, and when the light of the window

within view had sparkled with the welcome of home. I could not help

asking myself whether it was not possible even then that loving parents

were thinking of the wanderer who was thinking of them. I was by no

means saddened at my reverie; I did not for a moment doubt of a happy

return; but I became absorbed in my thoughts, and sat pondering on the

past for an hour or more, until the trees on the opposite shore had

become obscured in the gathering shades of night.

Darkness had so come on that I had no little difficulty in retracing

my way to the waggon. I gave my head a succession of thumps against

the projecting boughs of the willows, and kept stumbling over their

protruding roots; but I held on my road. Ever and again there was some

strange and startling noise; first a herd of monkeys, which had been

resting on the tree-tops, disturbed by the owls, would break out into

a frantic clamour that would gradually die away into weak and single

notes; and then a great water-iguana (_Polydædalus_) that had been

lurking on the bank in search of mice, after creeping noiselessly to

the brim of the water, would plunge in with a sudden splash.

These iguanas are huge lizards, over five feet long, that generally

select their habitat by water which, if not always running, at

least flows periodically; they are found quite as often near human

habitations as they are in the desert. Their bite is not dangerous

to anything that is too large for them to devour, but they have such

singular power in their long tails and in their claws, that they are

able to catch many aquatic as well as land animals. Motionless as

logs, with their eyes continually opening and shutting, their dark

brown scaly bodies, striped with green and yellow, being of a colour

to escape detection, they will for hours await the appearance of their

prey with scarcely a sign of animation. Their food consists of frogs,

mice, insects, or any animals up to the size of a rat, or any birds not

larger than a hen.

It has been said that they are fond of the crabs that are commonly

to be found in South Africa, but I am inclined to think that it is

only failure of other food that induces them to drag these crustaceans

from their holes, although I have seen such an accumulation of the

shells as serves to show that a great many crabs may be necessary to

make an iguana’s meal. No doubt they are immensely partial to eggs;

and so pertinaciously do they visit hen-roost after hen-roost, that

by mutual consent the tenants of the farmsteads combine in declaring

war against them. At the mission-station at Limkana, on the Matebe, my

attention was called to the way in which, to gratify this predilection,

they will climb up trees in search of nests, after the manner of the

land-iguanas, which never frequent the water at all. From the southern

coast to the Marutse district I found the water species everywhere.

In streams infested by crocodiles they live in the rapids, which the

crocodiles avoid.

In general appearance the land-iguana is similar to the _Polydædalus_,

but it is broader, more unwieldy, and has a shorter tail. It is found

on plains, both bare and grassy, in rocky districts, in bushes, and in

the forests. It lives upon small birds, mice, rats, centipedes, and

many insects, but its favourite food is birds’ eggs. Ordinarily it

chooses its abode at the top of a tree, and at the approach of danger

will clamber rapidly to its elevated retreat, and lie concealed along

one of the boughs; if it should be on the ground, it will creep into

a deserted burrow, or failing this, it will stretch itself out as if

lifeless; but only touch it, and every symptom of inanimation vanishes;

it will start up, develope its full length hiss like a cat, and crawl

along on the tips of its claws, its form, that appeared thick and

stumpy as it was shrinking on the ground, becoming in an instant lanky

and thin as a skeleton. In the abdomen of this pachysaurian there is

found a collection of lobulated fatty matter, in which some of the

native tribes put great faith as a remedy for certain diseases.

It was very close upon midnight when I found my way back to my people

in the waggon; they had been far too uneasy at my prolonged absence to

lie down to rest.

A bath in the Vaal was the first business next morning, after which

we started in a north-eastward course for the Transvaal. In two

hours, a much shorter time than I had reckoned on, we came within

sight of several erections on the right; one of these was a long

building made of tiles, and covered with iron; another, apparently in

danger of tumbling down, had been constructed of lath and plaster;

the third was of bricks, with a flat roof. These, with a couple of

tents, and thirteen Koranna huts, were all that in 1873 existed of

the most westerly town in the Republic, which afterwards, during the

disturbances in Gassibone’s district, and amongst the neighbouring

Korannas, became known as Christiana.

Since that time Christiana has changed greatly for the better, and

at present is almost as important a town as Bloemhof, which in 1876

included at least thirty houses. Independently of its favourable

position on the direct road between Griqualand West and the Transvaal,

it has made a rapid development through the exertions of its chief

magistrate, whose acquaintance I had subsequently the pleasure

of making. It speaks well for the able way in which this officer

maintained his difficult position with the contiguous unruly tribes,

that on the annexation of the Transvaal by the English he was allowed

to retain his post.

The river-bank where we made our camp was somewhat elevated, and

afforded us a good view of the islands and rapids, which were both

numerous. The adjacent scenery is unquestionably very interesting,

and a visit to the islands would, to an ornithologist, be well worth

making. This was the most southern point where I observed the handsome

long-tailed roller.

Leaving Christiana on the following day (March 13th), we proceeded

up the river towards Bloemhof. The district between the two towns is

one of the most dreary and barren in the Transvaal, and has quite the

characteristics of a karoo-plain; it offers a striking contrast to the

opposite shore on the Free State side of the river, where wide tracts

of acacias and numerous farms are mirrored in the waters.

In the way of game we saw nothing but a couple of springbocks, a few

of the very smallest of the lesser bustards, and in the more rocky

places some ground-squirrels, and some rhyzœnas, the latter being

in considerable numbers, as many as fifteen or twenty from a single

burrow. Both of these animals had ventured some little distance from

their homes; the squirrels digging for roots, the rhyzœnas for beetles,

larvæ, and scorpions. At the sound of our wheels they made off, but at

a pace so moderate, that even with a good start they might have been

overtaken by a dog. The ground-squirrels ran away very timidly, keeping

their tails erect, and not venturing to look back at what had disturbed

them until they reached safe quarters; the rhyzœnas were much bolder,

stopping frequently to examine the intruders who had invaded their

privacy, and pausing, with their tails uncurled, would snarl savagely,

as if in defiance. I saw several varieties of rhyzœna, but only one

of the ground-squirrel. Further north, where the prairie-like plains

made way for more wooded country, the place of the earth-squirrel is

supplied by a small yellow-brown kind that lives in the trees; the

flesh of both is eaten by all the natives except the Hottentots.

On reaching Bloemhof, on the afternoon of the 15th, we found

that it consisted only of a single street, its environs having a

poverty-stricken aspect that was far from inviting; it is a place,

however, that has latterly been considerably improved.

Ever since we had left Klipdrift the weather had been remarkably fine,

with only a few occasional exceptions; but as we quitted Bloemhof we

observed that the horizon was ominously heavy; and, as evening drew

on, the rain began to fall, and it became so dark that it was quite

impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, I regretted that I had

not come to the determination of passing the night in the town.

For a while one or two of us tried to walk in front of the team,

to give confidence to the Koranna who was leading the foremost pair

of bullocks by the bridle, declaring every minute that he could not

distinguish the path from the ground by the side; but the rain was so

drenching, and the wind so pitiless, that we were obliged to give up,

and to get what shelter we could in the waggon. After slipping and

sliding about for a hundred yards or so more, the bullocks all came

to a standstill, and I could not help fearing that we had got on to

a declivity, which would lead down to the river; and, knowing that

further progress under such circumstances might be dangerous, I came to

the conclusion that we must stay where we were until daylight.

Notwithstanding the pouring rain, I went out twice to reconnoitre

our situation. The second time I went farther than before, and made a

discovery which rather startled me. Not many yards in front of us I

observed a large dark spot, which it struck me must be a deep hollow in

the ground. I called to the driver to watch with me, and wait for the

next flash of lightning, that we might ascertain what it really was.

The lightning was not long in coming, and revealed close at our feet

the bed of a rain-torrent, that of course went right to the river. Only

a few more steps and the consequences must have been most disastrous;

for when daylight came, we found that the walls of the ravine were not

only very precipitous, but not less than sixteen feet in depth.

Nothing could be more uncomfortable than the night we spent. The rain

ceased about midnight, but not till it had penetrated the canvas

covering of the waggon, the keen wind all along benumbing our limbs,

and making us realize that here, on the table-land of the Southern

Transvaal, we were 4000 feet above the level of the sea. Except for the

Koranna men, David and Gert, there was no rest to be had; but they were

both utterly regardless of the rain-pools in which they were reclining,

and slept on soundly till the morning.

The Free State shore of the Vaal is elevated; the parts where it is

not entirely wooded being scantily dotted with mimosas. Many of the

well-to-do farmers, resident on the south of the river, have purchased

as much as 3000 acres of land hereabouts, for the purpose of grazing

their cattle during the dry season. They complained bitterly of the

number of their foals, calves, and mules that had been killed by the

hyænas (_H. crocuta_), and said that they had been obliged to

resort to strychnine in order to dispose of some of the rapacious

beasts. The son of one of the farmers, named Wessel, told me that he

had lost eighteen head of cattle of various kinds during the preceding

winter.

One case that occurred was somewhat remarkable. A farm-servant, before

turning out two mules, had, or his own convenience, fastened them

together by a strap; not long afterwards they were found still attached

to each other, but one of them was a mangled, half-gnawed carcass,

whilst the countless footprints in the ground showed what desperate

efforts the surviving mule had made to get free from its ill-fated

companion. Since then the owner had sent no cattle to the pastures,

except cows and full-grown horses, unless they were guarded.

Some miles east of Bloemhof we came to a great shallow saltpan, which

we had seen glistening before us for a considerable distance. It was

skirted by a farm, and, as usual, one portion of its edge was overhung

by a hill, the adjacent grassy parts being of a marshy nature, that

might no doubt be cultivated to advantage.

We now entered upon the south-western hunting district of the

Transvaal, that extends in one unbroken grass plain from the banks

of the Bamboespruit to the Schoenspruit, and is bounded on the south

by the Vaal River, and on the north by the Maquassie heights; it is

intersected by a river, and by several spruits that flow periodically,

generally running from north to south, or south-east.

Before reaching the Bamboespruit, on the 18th of March, we saw several

pairs of blessbock antelopes, and then a whole herd of them; they are

so called on account of a white spot (_blässe_) on their forehead,

which sets off their red-brown skins admirably; their horns diverge

backwards, and are by no means so graceful as those of the springbocks.

Altogether, the creatures are more strongly built than springbocks;

they do not make the same kind of spasmodic leaps, but on the whole

they involve their pursuers in a more protracted chase.

In the long grass a number of cranes were pecking out locusts. As we

approached them they made a short retreat without rising high above the

ground, and uttering their sonorous note, which might almost be called

stately, they alighted again only a few hundred yards away.

[Illustration: CAMP ON THE BAMBOESPRUIT.]

Some heavy rain came on, and we were compelled to come to a halt quite

early in the afternoon by the side of a pool, a very few miles east

of the Bamboespruit. Partly from want of rest, and partly probably

from the salt we had taken at the saltpan which we had just passed, a

general lassitude seemed to have fallen upon our whole party; it was

an unhealthy languor, that seemed absolutely to prohibit sleep; and

the morning dawned before the rain ceased, and we were able to get a

little repose underneath the waggon. To rest inside was impossible, as

the evaporation from the damp made the atmosphere all but intolerable.

Though jackals in plenty were to be heard quite close to us, we were

disinclined to take our guns out of the cases, where they were safely

protected from the wet, to get a shot at them; and besides it was very

dark. After all, the sleep we obtained was very little, and we were all

ready to start again while it was still quite early.

My people busied themselves in making a fire, and meanwhile I strolled

to a little distance to get a general view of the plain, bounded

by distant heights on the north. The sky was overcast, and the day

threatened to be as dreary as the night. My attention was attracted by

some very musical notes, uttered, as it seemed to me, by two cranes

or storks that were fluttering some 500 yards in front of me. I made

my companions listen to them, and they agreed in pronouncing the

sound exquisite as the notes of an Æolian harp. It was a matter of

considerable difficulty to get Gert, the Koranna lad, to leave his

breakfast to attend to what was exciting our curiosity; and when he did

come he declared at first that there was nothing to see, but after a

moment or two he suddenly stooped down, and seizing my hand, made me

bend down to his own level.

“Yes, look!” he said, “look at those two birds settling there; those

are the birds that made the noise. They would be great locust-birds,

only they have red wings, and black heads and crowns--beautiful yellow

crowns.”

This was an unusually long speech for Gert, and he had to pause and

refresh himself with a quid of tobacco. He saw our surprise, and

repeated the word “crowns,” adding that they were not made of feathers,

but of long, stiff, yellow hair.

“In Africa,” he continued, “everybody knows them. The farmers, both in

the Transvaal and the Free State, keep them tame.”

“What do you call them?” I inquired.

“Mâ-hems, bas,” he answered; but I could only conjecture that they were

a long-legged species of the grey crane, until a few days afterwards,

when finding three of them domesticated in one of the farms we passed,

I ascertained that they were the crowned or royal crane (_Balearia

regulorum_). When I returned to my own country I brought two of

them with me, and had the honour of presenting them to His Highness

the Crown Prince Rudolph, who placed them in the Imperial Zoological

Gardens at Schönbrunn.

Scarcely had we been travelling two hours next morning when we came

within sound of a rushing torrent, issuing from a depression that could

be distinguished at a considerable distance by its belt of foliage. The

depression varied from twenty to thirty-five feet in depth, and was the

channel of the Maquassie River, now swollen by the heavy rain that had

accumulated from the neighbouring heights, which bear the same name as

the stream. The banks are steep, and the river-course stony, and every

now and then there are scraps of picturesque scenery; but during some

of the winter months the flood is reduced to a few mere ponds; these,

however, being deep and rocky, are often tolerably full of fish. The

more rugged parts of the shore are the haunts of otters, wild cats,

weasels, genets, and other small beasts of prey, water lizards also

being occasionally to be met with.

At the ford, which, on account of the steep declivity of the banks,

is always awkward to cross--we found the water about three feet deep.

Standing on the right bank were some transport waggons laden with

goods weighing the best part of three tons. The drivers, fearful of

crossing in the present swollen condition of the stream, had left them

and made their way to a neighbouring canteen to await the subsiding of

the flood; but I came to the conclusion that we might venture to cross

at once, and our waggon reached the other side safely, with no other

damage than a slight injury to our cooking apparatus.

It was not mid-day when we reached the southern slope of the Maquassie

heights, that extend hence towards the north. It was a spot where the

mineralogist no less than the botanist might find a fine field for

research, excellent specimens of porphyritic quartz being frequently to

be secured. Hares and bustards abounded on the plains; and in a pond

belonging to a farmer who had settled at the foot of the hills were

quantities of black moor-hens, divers, wild duck, ibises, and herons.

We received a visit in the course of the afternoon from the farmer’s

son, who quite astonished me by the dexterity with which he handled my

revolver, making shot after shot at a mark with unerring precision.

Towards evening we left the neighbourhood of the farm and crossed a

plain on which the grass was some two feet high, affording a safe

shelter for game. We had only advanced about six miles since noon; but

a steady downpour of rain having set in, we not only thought it best to

halt for the night, but were so struck by the abundance of game, that

we agreed to stay for a whole day.

The sound of firing roused me betimes in the morning. It seemed to

come from the south; and the origin of it was explained by the arrival,

while we were at breakfast, of two Dutchmen, mounted on small wiry

ponies, and making inquiries about the Bas, the master of the house

close at hand. Finding us unable to answer their questions, they drove

on to the thatched house, and asked neighbour “Ohm” (the ordinary

designation of a Dutch farmer) to lend them a waggon, to carry to their

own farm, some miles away, a dozen springbocks and blessbocks that they

had killed that morning.

It is the common custom of such farmers as live near towns to leave the

heads and the entrails of what they have killed for the jackals and

vultures, and to send the carcases whole to market. Those, however, who

reside in more out-of-the-way districts, generally flay and cut up the

game into joints, laying the skins out on the ground to dry.

After being dried, the skins are most frequently merely cut into

squares, and sewn, ten or twelve together, to make carpets; but

in the manipulation of them the farmers are far surpassed by the

natives. One use to which they are also put is to make the mountings

of the giraffe-hide whips. There is a primitive kind of tanning often

practised, the tan being the bark of several trees that grow on the

hills, such as the waggonhout-tree, or, failing that, the bark of the

common mimosas from the river banks. Those who make a trade of tanning

purchase the undressed skins from the hunters; a blessbock skin, which

costs three or four shillings, as a rule selling after the operation is

complete for about half a sovereign.

Some of the farmers’ relatives residing with them manufacture what

they call field-shoes, which are extremely comfortable for South

African travelling. The soles are made of half-tanned gnu-skins, and

the upper leathers of the skins of blessbocks, koodoos, or hartebeests.

They may be bought of the makers for about seven shillings, but from

the trades-people in the towns they cannot be procured at less than

double that price.

The flesh of these animals is cut into long strips, and either slightly

salted, or dried by exposure to the sun; it is brought to table quite

hard; when pounded and soaked in butter it has a very delicate flavour;

its price varies from sixpence to a shilling a pound, and it is often

brought to market in considerable quantities.

Quitting this halting-place, we proceeded to the east. The district

that we traversed on our way to the Estherspruit was, if possible, more

abundant in game than that which we had left. I counted in various

directions no less than twenty herds of springbocks and blessbocks.

A short distance from our path a swarm of vultures had settled on a

blessbock that had been shot, the very numbers of the birds being a

proof that they must have continual opportunities for a similar repast.

The spruit lay in a kind of trench extending towards the south. As we

approached it we could see a white-washed farmhouse peeping out from

some mimosas on its margin; we subsequently made the acquaintance of

its owner, a kindly middle-aged Dutchman, named Rensburg.

As far as the Estherspruit we had found the road singularly good; but

suddenly we were now launched upon a marshy plain, from the mire of

which our oxen seemed perfectly unable to drag the waggon. With much

reluctance we had to consent to stay in this unhealthy situation till

the next morning. Towards midnight the atmosphere became so clear that

we could distinctly see the jackals prowling almost close to us. I

was much tempted to have a shot, and to endeavour to get one of their

handsome skins. Rensburg, however, had warned me that any firing would

be only too likely to frighten away the game, so that I deemed it more

prudent to abstain.

On starting next day, we had only proceeded about two hundred yards,

when we came upon the Klipspruit, now reduced to a few insignificant

pools, although after heavy rain it becomes a stream of scarcely less

than a hundred yards in breadth. We crossed without difficulty, and at

once made up our minds to encamp for at least a day or two upon the

further bank.

It was a scene to rejoice a sportsman’s heart; the early morning hours

never failed to exhibit many a herd of gnus and antelopes, some hardly

a quarter of a mile away, others so far in the distance that they were

comparatively specks on the horizon which opened out to the south,

east, and west.

[Illustration: RETURN FROM THE GNU HUNT.

_Page 155._]

The springbocks always grazed in groups; the blessbocks in rows,

either side by side, or one behind the other. The prolonged notes

of the bustards could be heard on every side, and every nook seemed

teeming with animal life. As I looked around me with admiration

I almost fancied that I should like to be the owner of some vast

enclosure, where the game could find a happy retreat from their

relentless pursuers; ample room would be requisite, as it is not so

much the climate as the limited space in zoological gardens that

causes so many animals to languish and die in their confinement; but

the mortality in gardens is small in comparison with what it is in the

travelling menageries, where the imprisonment is necessarily so close

that it is to be hoped, for the honour of humanity, that they will soon

cease to be supported.

We remained on the Klipspruit from the 23rd to the 27th. Our attempts

at sport were by no means successful, and on the last day I determined

to make another effort, in hopes of better luck. In going down the

spruit I had noticed a spot in the broad part of the bed that had every

appearance of being a resort of the game, and the footprints both ways

across the channel showed that gnus and other animals were accustomed

to pass along that way. Here I resolved to take up my position, and

await a favourable chance for a shot.

Shortly after sunrise I left the waggon, and made my way very

cautiously along the valley for about two miles; it was necessary to

go stealthily, a matter which was sometimes by no means easy, as the

river-bed was in places very shallow, and my movements were likely to

be observed by the game on the heights; it was consequently past ten

o’clock before I reached the selected spot; the place, as I have said,

being broader and flatter than elsewhere, and the track overgrown with

rushes. After waiting about an hour in the broiling sun, I heard the

sound of some shots in the far distance, and being still partially

concealed, I peeped out in the direction whence the reports proceeded;

nothing, however, was to be seen but a few herds scattered about, all

grazing quietly. Still, it became clear to me that one of the herds

of gnus, still feeding, was gradually coming nearer to me; and in the

expectation that they might approach within gunshot, I crossed to the

other bank, and cocked my gun in readiness; but they were slow in

their movements, and scarcely advanced at all. Happening to turn my

eyes in another direction, I was taken by surprise. Galloping hard

towards me from the quarter where I had heard the shots was a great

herd of blessbocks; they were coming so much closer to me than the

gnus which I had been watching, that I considered they were giving

me the better chance. I had no time to make my way back to the other

bank, and had to content myself with gaining the middle of the bed and

lying down flat upon the ground. After a few seconds I raised my head,

confident that the herd would be now within reach; but I was destined

to be disappointed; they had evidently caught sight of me, and were

making off in rapid flight. In the rear was a doe with her little fawn

that could not keep pace with the rest, and I could not help longing

intensely to take them alive; with this design I sent a shot into the

right leg of the dam, but although she reared and limped at first, she

soon recovered her speed, and made off to rejoin the rest.

[Illustration: STARTLED BY A HERD OF BLACK GNUS.

_Page 156._]

Hoping still to succeed with the gnus, I went back to my former

place, and again stooped down to wait. I reloaded my gun, but had only

just put in the bullet, when I was startled by a great snorting and

puffing close above me; the whole herd, with lowered heads and tails

erect, was rushing towards me like a whirlwind; another moment and I

should have been trampled under their feet, but having no desire to

come within reach either of their horns or their hoofs, I jumped up,

shouted aloud, and brandished my gun. The effect was to bring them at

once to a standstill; they waited a moment with their shaggy heads

all turned towards me. I lost not an instant in firing. The foremost

antelope bent down its head, brayed aloud, swung round twice in a

circle, and then galloped off followed by the entire herd. It did not,

however, make straight away, but after retreating some ten or twelve

yards it made another circle, still followed by the others, and this

manœuvre it repeated several times, until finally, the herd, erecting

their white tails, and still bellowing wildly, scampered off to a

distance.

While they were making their second circle I took aim at an animal

that seemed to be about half grown. My shot was well directed and took

effect on the shoulder. I heard the ball strike, but the creature kept

on its way just as if it were untouched; so sure, however, was I that

I had hit my mark, that I kept on in pursuit, in spite of the intense

heat of the sun, for the best part of four miles; my exertions all

proved to be fruitless, for although my victim was probably lagging on

behind the herd the distance between us continually increased, and at

length, weary and disappointed, I was fain to give up and make my way

back to our quarters.

But I was not contented. After resting a little while and taking some

refreshment, I started off with Gert, determined, if possible, to track

out the wounded gnu. We followed on beyond the spot where I had turned

back, and made our way for about another two miles, when we came upon

the half-eaten carcase of a young gnu bull. Within five hours after

receiving my shot it had become the prey of the numberless vultures

that hovered about, and had been so mutilated that it could not be

removed.

Disgusted at my failure, I broke up our encampment immediately, and

set out once again towards the interior of the Transvaal, where I

contemplated making the caverns of Wonderfontein the limit of my

present journey, after which I should commence my return to the

diamond-diggings.

During our stay by the Klipspruit, I had made a good many additions to

my collection, notably a pretty young water-lizard, several kinds of

insects and fish, some scolopendra, and various grasses, besides some

interesting specimens of greenstone.

It was quite late at night when we next halted for our rest, though we

were scarcely more than four miles north-east of the ford. The night

was fine and tolerably clear; and as we sat talking over the chances

and mischances of the day, we could hear the bellowing of the male

gnus, varied ever and again by the heavy thud that was caused by the

clashing of their horns as they met in angry conflict. From midnight to

dawn the howl of the jackal and the yell of the hyæna showed that while

game was in abundance there was no lack of beasts of prey.

The country through which our next day’s journey carried us showed no

falling off in the quantity of game. The depressions of the spruits

became deeper than we had heretofore seen, and were in some places

covered with bushes that were the haunt of the guinea-fowl which are

common everywhere, from the southern coast to the further side of the

Zambesi.

This breed of wild poultry is undeniably one of the most interesting

features of the African bird-world. Hunted perpetually, it is

nevertheless ever on the increase. Most frequently it is found in

flocks varying from ten to forty in number, in bushy or wooded places

near rivers or standing water. It is distinguished from our guinea-fowl

by a horny membrane on the forehead.

On the Vaal and its tributaries the best time for hunting guinea-fowl

is about two hours before sundown, when they leave the bushes in the

plains to drink, previously to roosting for the night in the trees

by the banks. This hour may on an average be taken to be about four

o’clock in the afternoon, and as the birds nearly always use the same

approach to the river, a sportsman, who has concealed himself hard

by, will see a cloud of dust gradually coming nearer to him from

the land; this is caused by their repeatedly stopping on the way to

scratch up seeds and insects from the sandy soil. When in thick grass

they continually raise their heads to look around them, and where the

grass is over three feet in height I have seen them at intervals run

out of it for ten or fifteen yards and fly, or rather spring into the

air, that they may be able to look above it. Should they happen to

catch sight of man or beast, or anything that has to them a suspicious

appearance, they give a loud cackle, and dart off with incredible

swiftness. I know few birds that can run so quickly, and when they have

once taken to flight, a sportsman unacquainted with their habits has

little chance of catching sight of them again that day. An experienced

hand, however, will either chase them with dogs, or conceal himself so

as to confront them as they rise suddenly from the ground, when their

flight is so awkward that they afford a mark which the most unpractised

shot can hardly fail to hit. Like other feathered game, guinea-fowl

have not much to fear from the natives; the only people that I saw

making any attempt to get them were the Korannas, who first make them

rise by the aid of their dogs, and then pelt them down with the hard

stones of a small edible fruit known as the “bluebush.”

In the afternoon we reached the Matheuspruit, which in spite of the

rain was nearly dry. Near the road a small dam was placed right across

its bed, and formed one side of a pond.

From the Matheuspruit the road was in a wretched condition, and where

it was not stony the soil was so soft that we were in momentary dread

of sticking fast. On the evening of the 29th we reached the Jagdspruit.

The following morning was warm and bright, and the rising sun lighted

up the eastern slopes of the Klerksdorp heights, some of which had

a conical shape, and stood isolated and bare on the bank of the

Schoenspruit, others being covered with bushes, and joined together

in ridges. Between us and the hills lay a shallow depression, about

two miles wide, that appeared to open into the narrow valley of the

Schoenspruit a few miles lower down. We were told that Klerksdorp, the

oldest settlement in the Transvaal, was close on the other side of a

chain of hills that stretched right across our path.

Tempted by the genial weather I went out for a stroll on the plain,

which afforded me ample scope for botanizing. Amongst other plants

worth gathering I found a cinna growing rankly as a weed, bearing one

or more brick-red or rose-coloured blossoms on stems that varied from

four to ten inches in height. From a clump of bushes on the left I

took a number of beetles, some small bright ones (_Buprestidæ_), some

leaf-beetles (_Chrysomelidæ_), and some Longicorns (_Cerambycidæ_);

also several black and yellow-spotted spiders, that, like our

cross-spiders, had spun their webs from bush to bush, and from tree to

tree. Two duykerbocks sprung up at my approach, and vanished quickly

into the thicket.

Having crossed another depression we soon entered the actual valley

of the Schoenspruit, which might fairly claim to be a river, as it is

only in exceptionally dry seasons that it ceases to flow regularly,

and assumes the characteristics of a “spruit.” Altogether it may be

considered one of the most interesting valleys in all the South African

table-land, being one of the most fertile, as well as the most highly

cultivated. Its banks are one continuous series of farms; and both here

and in the Mooi-valley the excellent pasturage on the slopes greatly

enhances the value of the land. With a little energy and rational

manipulation of the soil it might be made even ten times more prolific

than it is.

At this period, in 1873, Klerksdorp, or Klerksdorf, consisted of a

single street, in which, I believe, I counted five-and-twenty houses.

It has since greatly increased, and bids fair, like Potchefstroom, to

be one of the most important towns in the south-western Transvaal.

Each house had its garden, with peaches and orange-trees, and the

hedges were made of quinces and pomegranates. The site of the town is

well chosen, being at a spot where the valley is narrowed by hills on

either hand, and where the supply of water is abundant; it is likewise

partially protected on the side looking up the river by an isolated

chain of hills.

Potchefstroom, for which we made a start the next day, is really the

most populous town of the Transvaal. On our way thither we crossed

three dry spruits within a distance of thirty-four miles. These were

named the Kockemoer, the Matchavis, and the Bakenspruit, and all

ran parallel to each other, from north to south, towards the Vaal.

The country we passed was more undulating than it had been between

Bloemhof and Klerksdorp; all the valleys, whether deep or shallow,

appearing very fertile. Before arriving at the Kockemoer we had to

cross a tract of land so marshy that our progress was once again a

matter of considerable difficulty. The sight of two waggons, already

sunk hopelessly in the mire, was a warning to us that we must use every

precaution; and in several places, which appeared especially bad, we

shovelled out the mud, and filled up the cavity with stones; thus

extemporizing a hard road, over which, by dint of much shouting and

whipping, we made our bullocks drag their load. Very often, however, it

was requisite to make long detours, and even then we found the broad

tires of our wheels cutting into the soil as though they were the

sharpest of knives.

As we passed next day at the foot of a chain of lofty hills I could

not do otherwise than admire the scenery, which seemed the most

pleasant of any that we saw throughout the journey. In the shallow glen

of the Bakenspruit a large flock of grey cranes was busily hunting for

locusts, and we noticed a few springbocks grazing quietly among them.

Thousands of swallows had settled on the swampy spot where we crossed

the spruit. The South African swallows are even more confiding and

fearless of men than our own swifts; not only will they build in the

passages of houses that have continual access to the air, but I have

known them take up their abode in dwelling-rooms when these have

happened to be left open for any length of time. Their nests are more

elaborate than those of the European _Hirundo_, and are entered

by a passage sometimes straight, but occasionally slightly curved, a

foot or more in length, woven into the nest itself, the whole being

affixed to a horizontal roof. Their number, too, as well as the number

of the goat-sucker tribe (_Caprimulgus_), is greater than that

of the European species, but their notes are neither so strong nor so

agreeable.

We were now approaching the valley of the Mooi River, a perennial

stream, bounded for some miles on either hand by chains of hills or

by isolated eminences. As we turned from a grassy hollow, we saw

Potchefstroom lying before us, looking, at first sight, smaller than it

really is, the effect of its being built on a level in the form of a

long parallelogram, in such a way that it is overshadowed by the trees

that line its streets. It is one of the most important places in South

Africa, and will probably retain its high rank, as it remains the chief

trade-centre of the country, and is hardly likely to be ousted from its

prominence, unless it should happen to be affected by the construction

of the Delagoa and Middleburgh Railway from Pretoria. When I was

there I estimated the population at about 4000, a total that would

be much increased if it were made to include the inhabitants of old

Mooi-Riverdorp, a name given to the series of farms that, commencing at

the north end of the town, extends for some miles up both sides of the

river valley.

The Mooi River encloses the town on the east with a tolerably strong

stream and some rushy shallows; the water is clear, and contains many

of the same fish as the Vaal, besides numerous crabs; otters, wild

cats, and water-lizards are found on its banks. An aqueduct from the

river, as well, I believe, as from the hills on the west, is carried

round the western side of the town, and from this a good supply of

water is conveyed to the houses and their gardens.

In the summer-time grass grows freely in the less frequented

streets, and even in the dry season the place with its flat-roofed

or gabled houses, all neatly white-washed, rising among the foliage

of the foreign evergreens, the cypress, the eucalyptus, and the ivy

that have been acclimatized, has all the appearance of one large

well-cultivated garden, and offers a striking contrast to the dead

yellow of the dried-up grass in the surrounding valley; but when, as

on the occasions of my two visits in 1873 and 1874, the adjacent hills

and plains are rich in verdure, and the river-banks are brilliant

with white and red and yellow blossoms, then is indeed the time when

Potchefstroom, arrayed in all its glory, fairly vindicates its title of

the “Flower-town” of the Transvaal.

The streets are straight, dividing the town into rectangular blocks,

and at the places where they intersect, open squares are left, the

most spacious of which is appropriated for a market-place. The little

English church, all overgrown with ivy, is very picturesque, but with

this exception none of the public edifices rise above the level of the

ordinary style of building. The town is the residence of a magistrate,

and of the Portuguese Consul, and it contains several elementary

schools. It carries on an active trade with the diamond-fields and

Natal, some mills and tan-yards being situated on the outskirts. The

produce sent to the diamond-fields consists chiefly of corn, meal,

meat, and tobacco; that sent to Natal being tobacco, cattle, skins, and

a small supply of ostrich feathers and ivory. It should be added that a

large proportion of the goods despatched to the interior from Natal and

the diamond-fields has to pass through Potchefstroom on its way.

Although the town has no pretensions to architectural beauty, yet

the places of business are thoroughly commodious, and the private

residences are often quite elegant villas. The great charm, however,

of them all, even of the most modest, lies in the well-kept orchards

and gardens with which they are surrounded, the hedges being gay with

myriads of roses, with fig-bushes, and with the bright leaves and fiery

blossoms of the pomegranate, which turn to their large and luscious

fruit. The whole atmosphere seems pervaded with colour and fragrance,

and for many consecutive months of the year a tempting supply of fruit

hangs in the hedgerows, so that the owner may gather in their produce

without depriving his plot of ground of its ordinary aspect of a gay

and enjoyable flower-garden.

Overhanging the brooks that ripple in gutters along the streets, are

fine weeping willows, that afford a refreshing shade from the glowing

sunbeams; their light green leaves and slim drooping boughs stand out

in elegant contrast alike to the compact growth of the fruit-trees, to

the dark foliage of the eucalyptus, to the pointed shoots of the arbor

vitæ, and to the funereal hue of the cypress.

It was evening when we next started, taking an east-north-east

direction, to proceed towards the Mooi. We had scarcely left the town

behind us when we began to experience the greatest difficulty, on

account of the mud, in making our way over the few hundred yards that

led to the primitive bridge across the river.

Our route next morning lay through a wide valley, open in most

directions, in which was a farmstead consisting of several buildings,

and carefully enclosed by its own fields and well-kept garden. Having

here obtained some gourds, we proceeded nearly east, and soon reached

a table-land, bounded on the south by a chain of hills partially

covered with trees. In other quarters we had an uninterrupted view of

the river-valley with its numerous farms, to be recognized everywhere

by the dark patches of cultivated land; in the extreme distance were

ridges of hills and isolated heights, and the slope of the Blue-bank

plateau; while on the northern horizon we could just discern the

outline of the Magalies mountains. It was the finest view I had

hitherto seen.

[Illustration: NIGHT CAMP.]

On the table-land that we were crossing, I noticed some funnel-shaped

chasms in the soil, varying from twenty-five to forty feet in depth,

distinguishable from a distance by the thickness of the growth of

the trees. I afterwards learnt that similar chasms are by no means

uncommon in some parts of the Transvaal, between the Harts River and

the Molapo, as well as between the Lower Molapo and the Vaal in the

Barolong and Batlapin territory; they are found likewise in Griqualand

West. These crater-like openings are characteristic of the vast bed of

superficial limestone that lies, sometimes indeed only in thin layers,

but ordinarily some hundreds of feet thick, covered in some places

with sand or chalk, and in others with blocks of granite or slate;

they are caused by the union of several deep fissures in the rock far

below the surface of the soil. This limestone-bed has a clearly defined

stratification; it bears external marks of the action of water, and

throughout its extent of hundreds of miles is full of cracks, but so

hard is its substance, and so huge is its mass, that in nine cases

out of ten the convulsions of nature have not made any appreciable

displacement; it is only in these chasms that the effect is at all

apparent.

[Illustration: FUNNEL-SHAPED CAVITY IN ROCKS.]

The underground fissures, sometimes several miles long, serve as

subterranean channels for the streams, which after a while force

themselves out through little rifts into the valleys. This is the case

with the Upper Molapo, and in the same way does a portion of the Mooi

flow below the surface of the ground, disappearing entirely in places,

to reissue further down the valley. Where, however, several fissures

are concentrated at one point, they result in the formation of the

craters to which I refer. At the top, these funnels are sometimes as

much as 200 or 300 yards in circumference: at first sight they have the

appearance of being circular, but on investigation they nearly always

prove triangular, or, less frequently, quadrilateral. The interstices

of broken rock with which their inner surface is lined are filled up by

the surrounding earth, which thus forms a luxuriant bed for the roots

of trees and shrubs, which tower up above, and become conspicuous upon

the generally barren plain.

Where the fissures that radiate from the bottom of the funnels

are sufficiently wide at the top, it is quite possible to descend

perpendicularly for a short distance and to trace their course

sometimes for several hundred yards. Many of them are full of water

clear as crystal, and one that I saw subsequently, on my way back

from my third journey on the Upper Molapo, was full to the depth of

140 feet, so that I might almost feel justified in describing it as a

miniature lake.

Although I have not seen Herr Hübner’s “Klippdachs-Schlucht,” I imagine

it must be included in the category of these formations. I found, too,

that many small streams in the district of the Vaal, the Harts River,

the Molapo, and the Marico, as well as in that of the Upper Limpopo,

had their origin in similar hollows in the rock, where the water could

not immediately run off, but collected in the funnel until it forced

its way through. At most of the farms near such streams we noticed

how the supply of water issued from a marshy spot, perhaps a mile

or so higher up, and how in the very midst of the springs there was

frequently a cavity, perhaps fifty feet or more in depth, that had all

the appearance of having been bored in the rock.

In every place of this character, even where the water had only a

subterranean outlet, I invariably found that there were none but the

same species of fish. I know a reedy pool on a plain between the Harts

River and the Molapo, abounding with fish and birds, which appears

to have no outlet whatever; and having ascertained that its greatest

depth is near the middle, I have no doubt but that it is an example of

these open funnels in the rock. In the limestone where these singular

formations exist, besides veins of quartz and quartzose mineral, there

are to be found particles of tin, copper, iron, and silver.

It was on the third day after leaving Potchefstroom that we arrived

at Wonderfontein. This is the name by which the Boers distinguish the

caves and grottoes of the district, and which does not belong as usual

to a single farm, but to a series of farms that with their separate

pasture-lands lie along the valley of the Mooi River. The farm-houses

are chiefly built of stone, and are buildings of good elevation, each

being provided with a waggon-shed, and with one or more rush-huts for

drying tobacco, which is universally cultivated in this part of the

country. The particular farm to which we were now directing our course

was in the immediate vicinity of the “wonderful” caves, and might be

termed Wonderfontein proper.

Fed by numerous streams that flowed from both directions, the Mooi

River was here of comparative importance; its banks in places were

swampy, and overgrown with masses of reeds, yielding an unfailing

source of interest to the ornithologist; and so confusing was the

chorus of whistling, twittering, cackling, and singing, that we could

hardly fail to be puzzled as to where we should give our attention

first.

[Illustration: GROTTO OF WONDERFONTEIN.]

By the permission of the farmer we made our camp under some weeping

willows that overhung his peach-garden. We made many inquiries about

the grottoes, and were told that as it was quite easy to find the

entrance it was equally easy to miss the way inside, and to fail to

find an exit; it was therefore advisable to be provided with guides.

This office, we were soon informed, could be undertaken by the two sons

of the farmer for the remuneration from our party of 1_l._ a head.

Exorbitant as I felt the demand was, yet having come to Wonderfontein

for the express purpose of visiting the caves, I submitted to the

exaction without a murmur. Some relations of the farmer, who were

staying with him on a visit, proposed to join us, and we started

without much delay, the two guides each carrying a bundle of tallow

candles.

Having crossed the little river by a ford, wide bub quite shallow, we

had to clamber up the right bank, which was very rocky, and covered

with bushwood. A quarter of an hour brought us to a chasm in the rocks,

opening almost perpendicularly downwards, and which was manifestly

another of the funnels which I have been describing. The entrance to

the cavern was a clear illustration of the rending of the rocks, but

I must own that I was considerably disappointed with the interior. I

had expected to find fossil remains of the late geological period, and

thereby perhaps to supply a gap in the geological records of South

Africa; but I found nothing to gratify my anticipations.

By the help of the rocks projecting from the sides of the funnel,

we managed to descend to the bottom, which had gradually contracted

until it was only a narrow passage slanting down towards, or it might

be below, the river-bed. Here we entered upon a perfect labyrinth of

fissures, at first so small that we could only creep in one after

another on all fours, but increasing till they were frequently ten

feet high; they terminated above in mere clefts, from which the water

kept dripping, and formed stalactites that were not exceptional in

character, either of form or size; they had nearly all been damaged by

previous visitors, and the ground was covered with their fragments.

The very multiplicity of the underground passages through which we

were conducted, was in itself a proof that the rock had been rifted

in all directions, and in many places where the two clefts came into

connexion, a sort of vault was formed overhead, somewhat higher than

the passages, but presenting no other remarkable feature. The sides

were dark grey, generally bare and smooth. The little brook, of which

we could hear the sound as soon as we entered, rippled through the

caves from east to west, and covered the breadth of the passage,

making it necessary for us to perform the best part of our excursion

barefooted. As we went onwards, either to the west or north, the water

became considerably deeper; we caught sight of some stalactites,

glistening and undamaged, just before us, but were prevented from

securing them by our guides, who refused to advance a step further.

It would not be a matter of much difficulty to widen the narrow places

between the entrance to the cavern and the broader clefts in the

interior, so that a miniature boat might be introduced; it would at

least make it possible to penetrate to the end of the passages, and

might probably be the means of discovering loftier and more spacious

grottoes. To me it appeared that away from the river the passages were

mere rifts, but that closer to the river they were invariably wider,

thus confirming the impression that the water in making its way along

them had gradually washed out for itself a larger outlet.

We were not in the caves very long, but found them thickly tenanted by

bats, that kept on following us up to the very entrance. Our guides

held the fluttering creatures in such abhorrence that nothing would

induce them to touch them; they were accordingly much surprised when I

captured two of them as an addition to my collection of mammalia, and

as a memorial of my visit to the wonderful grottoes.

Wonderfontein is one of those places in South Africa where an explorer

may advantageously spend a considerable time, ever finding an ample

reward for his labours; the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral

world are all well worthy of his best investigation. My own visit on

this occasion was necessarily limited to three days, so that I could

obtain nothing beyond a cursory glance at the neighbourhood.

Larger quadrupeds have all been exterminated for the last fifteen

years, but on the plains towards the north I found numbers of

_Catoblepas Gorgon_, _Antilope albifrons_ and _Euchore_,

whilst the handsome yellow-brown rietbocks, their short horns bending

forwards in a hook, were occasionally to be met with, either singly or

in pairs, in the long grass or among the rushes on the river.

Our farmer friend was very courteous, and invited us to join his sons

on their hunting excursions. Holes recently scratched on the ground

bore witness to the existence of jackals, proteles, and striped hyænas;

very often porcupines, jumping-hares, and short-tailed pangolins might

be seen; and amongst the rocks I found several genets, and a kind of

weasel with black stripes.

Once when I was out strolling with one of my people along the far

side of the river, we had put down our guns against a rock, and were

watching a flock of finches; suddenly my attention was drawn off by a

great splashing in the water, and looking through an opening in the

rushes, I saw four otters swimming rapidly one behind the other up the

stream. Before we had time to get our guns, they all disappeared in

the sedge. The brown otters of the South African rivers are shorter

and more thick-set than the European species, and their skins are of

inferior value; they are to be found in all reedy and flowing streams,

as well as in the pools of spruits.

In rapids, and especially in the deep pools left in the dried-up

river-beds, which never fail to abound in fish, they thrive

wonderfully, being rarely hunted, except when they are enticed by the

sound of poultry to venture near human habitations; this is of rare

occurrence, but when it does happen, they are sure to be attacked and

killed by the dogs. They are scarce, however, in all places where

the natives have settled close to the river, and find their safest

retreat in the south-central, the western, and the northern districts

of the Transvaal, where the valleys are marshy and rushes plentiful. I

have noticed that they seldom remain stationary, but seek their prey

over extensive tracts of country, hunting fish and crustaceans in the

shallow pools, rats and mice in the grassy banks, and birds in the

morasses and reedy parts of the rivers.

Amongst the clumps of reeds we observed the hanging nests of

sedge-warblers, of the bright red, black-spotted fire-finch, and of

the handsome long-tailed king-finch (_Vidua Capensis_), one of

the largest of the finch tribe. In winter the king-finch assumes a

brownish hue, but in the summer its plumage is a rich velvet-black, to

which an orange spot on each shoulder stands out in brilliant contrast.

The change of plumage is not the only transformation with which Nature

during its period of luxuriance endues this charming bird; its tail,

that during the winter is of no unusual length, increases in summer to

a bush of feathers eighteen inches long, which so seriously impedes its

flight, that in gusty weather it can only fly in the same direction as

the wind.

Like all the other reed-finches, it is a lively little creature, and

may perpetually be seen swinging and peeping about on the tops of

the reed-stalks, or fluttering over the morasses; and when it seems

to consider itself unobserved, it settles down and twitters cheerily

among the rushes. If, however, it is alarmed or excited, as it may be

by the appearance of another finch invading its nest, by any attempt

to capture it, or by the approach of a snake, it becomes perfectly

furious; its throat becomes inflated, it spits like a cat, its

beautiful neck-feathers bristle up into a perfect ruff, and it prepares

to use its sharp beak to good purpose. There are few more interesting

birds than this in the whole country.

Long-eared owls, the true owls of the swamps, sometimes flew up as we

came near them; but, after a short flight, they would soon alight again

on the edge of the marshes. There were a good many kinds of water-birds

to be seen, both swimmers and waders; and we noticed several varieties

of sandpipers, bitterns, small silver herons, common grey herons, and

purple herons; as well as a sort of ruff, some moor-hens, wild ducks

and divers. Whilst one of a party in a boat searches for nests and

eggs, another may very readily shoot at the birds that are disturbed.

The rich blossoms that abound in the moister parts of the valleys

naturally contribute to the generation of innumerable insects; and as a

consequence insectivorous birds, as well as graminivorous, sun-birds,

bee-eaters, and swallows swarm about the shrubs both of the gardens and

the woods. The multiplicity of insects, however, did not prevent their

capture from being a matter of pain and grief; the mosquitoes not only

tormented us in the evening, but even stung our faces and hands badly

in the daytime.

Snakes, no doubt, were abundant, and I caught one of a variety that I

had never seen before; it was dark grey above, and sulphur-coloured

underneath, about two feet long, and quite as thick as my finger.

The worthy farmer who owned the place seemed immensely proud of his

“wonderlijke chate;” he treated us hospitably, and had always coffee

and biscuits ready whenever we called upon him. In the course of

conversation he told me that the caves had been visited by a colleague

of mine named Mauch, who had stayed a considerable time. He seemed to

regret that we spent so much time in collecting vermin, which he called

“det slechte chut,” when he would have liked to be chatting about the

diamond-fields, “Duitsland” and “Osteriek;” but he did what he could

to gratify my eagerness to collect any birds peculiar to the locality.

He recommended me to conceal myself behind his waggon-shed, and take

a shot at a “besonderlik Vogel,” that would be sure to settle on a

half-dead tree close by; and, taking his advice, I had the satisfaction

of getting a specimen of a small bird of the darter tribe.

Many of the farmers distil a kind of spirit from peaches, which is

known in the Transvaal as peach-brandy; it is similar in character, but

considerably weaker and cheaper than that prepared from grapes in the

western part of Cape Colony, and known by the name of cango.