FROM MOSHANENG TO MOLOPOLOLE.
King Montsua and Christianity--Royal gifts--The Banquaketse
highlands--Signs of tropical vegetation--Hyæna-dogs--Ruins of
Mosilili’s Town--Rock-rabbits--A thari--Molopolole.
The southern part of Moshaneng belonged to Molema and his Barolongs,
and (excepting the ruined church and Mr. Martin’s house) contained no
buildings in the European style of architecture. The native huts were
all of pure Bechuana construction, and owing to the limited space,
were packed very closely together, although in the Baharutse quarter,
separated by a valley and a stream, the farmsteads were much less
crowded. I should estimate the population of the entire town to be
about 7000; but out of this number nearly 1000 would be fluctuating,
many of the inhabitants working occasionally for lengthened periods at
the diamond-fields, or cultivating land at a distance.
The king’s residence stood in the western part near the river-bank,
and was surrounded by a courtyard containing two huts apiece for his
five wives.
Here, as with not a few of the Bechuana tribes where Christian
missionaries have begun to labour, a good proportion of the young
people have professed to embrace the new doctrines, while the elders
have clung to their heathen institutions. It soon became evident to
Montsua that, although circumcision was not uniformly discarded, the
young men and young women were reluctant to take part in the accustomed
marriage orgies, and that many of the established festivities were
very thinly attended. Amongst these ancient ceremonials was a dance
known as the reed-dance, performed through the towns by a number of
men in procession, blowing with such vehemence upon reed-pipes, that
nearly always one or more of them would either drop down dead during
the progress, or would subsequently die from the acute emphysema of the
lungs brought on by the exertion. With reference to this time-honoured
performance, Montsua gave notice that he should only undertake not to
interfere with the “bathu ba lehuku,”[10] on condition that they all
joined in it as heretofore. The dance was ordered by authority, but the
converts, instigated by Molema, Montsua’s own brother, refused to obey
the king’s injunction. Molema was himself urged on by Yan, the present
black Barolong Christian preacher.
Baffled on this occasion, by the advice of his rain-doctor Montsua
next required that the followers of the new faith should take parts in
two ceremonies connected with rain-magic; first, in the letshulo-hunt
appointed by the rain-doctors for the capture of certain wild animals,
parts of which were employed in the incantations; and, secondly, in
turning up a plot of ground for the service of the doctors, which was
afterwards considered consecrated, and called “tsimo ea pulta,” the
garden of the rain. To both these demands the converts again resolutely
refused to submit, giving the king to understand that while they were
ready to submit to any other proof of their loyalty, since they had
become “bathu ba lehuku” their consciences would not allow them to
participate in the idolatrous usages of their forefathers.
[Illustration: BAROLONG WOMEN AT MOSHANENG.]
Again thwarted, the king was driven to devise some other measures for
bringing the recusants to obedience; the constitutional form of his
government, and the large numbers of the adherents of the new creed
both making it difficult to bring the offenders to justice. He soon
tried another scheme. On the following Saturday, when both Molema and
Yan had gone away into the country, he issued an order, and caused it
to be circulated through the town, that no person would be allowed to
attend the church on the next day. The women took up the matter; aware
that Christianity raised them to an equality with their husbands, they
came to the unanimous decision that no notice was to be taken of the
king’s order. Accordingly, Sunday came, and at the hour of service not
a member of the congregation was absent from his usual place. The king,
perhaps, might have heard the singing from his own house; or perhaps
there were plenty to inform him what was going on; at any rate, he got
into a towering passion, and, seizing a long knife, rushed off to the
church, which he entered just as one of the men, in Molema’s absence,
was delivering a prayer of thanksgiving. His appearance naturally
caused no little commotion amongst the worshippers, and in the midst
of the excitement, he bellowed out a peremptory order that they should
all disperse. One of the women calmly confronted him, and said that the
“bathu ba lehuku” must finish their service first. Enraged at the open
defiance of his authority, and incensed by the temerity of the woman,
he made such vehement and indiscriminate thrusts with his formidable
weapon, that he quite succeeded in clearing the building.
Amongst the converts were one of his own daughters and her husband;
at first he simply forbade her to leave her own house, but when he
ascertained that she was visited there by one of the new community,
who joined in hymns and prayers with her, he took her away from her
husband, brought her back to his own residence, and obliged her to
revert to the heathen custom of wearing nothing but a leather apron.
In course of time, however, as Montsua found that his opposition
was of no avail, and discovered, moreover, that the converts not
only remained just as faithful subjects as before, but were the most
industrious and the most thriving of all his population, he grew weary
of his persecution, and subsequently, when he and Molema separated,
although he did not himself embrace the new faith, he so far favoured
the cause of Christianity as to direct Yan, the Barolong, to continue
preaching amongst the surrounding people, and to permit Molema to do
the same in his town on the Molapo.[11]
In acknowledgment of some trifling medical services that I had rendered
to himself and his household, Montsua presented me with 1_l._,
and with some beautiful ostrich feathers, four black and four white,
which he said were for my wife; he looked very incredulous when I told
him that I did not possess a wife, and observed that I could keep the
feathers until I had one. Besides this, his gratitude was so great that
in return for my Snider-rifle he let me have five strong bullocks.
By the assistance of Mr. Martin, and another resident merchant, I
procured five more, so that with what I retained of my own, I had the
satisfactory prospect of continuing my journey with a good team of
fourteen.
My stay in Moshaneng was advantageous both to my ethnographical and
entomological collections. I obtained a number of curiosities in
the way of costumes, kiris, and other weapons, sticks branded with
ornamental devices, water-vessels made from ostrich-eggs, wooden spoons
and platters, and snuff-boxes made of gourd-shells or horn. One way
or another, too, including duplicates, I collected as many as 350
insects, amongst which were a new cerambyx, another of the same family
with black and yellow bands, and one copper-coloured and two green
scarabæidæ. The dry mimosa-hedges seemed to be the favourite resort of
two handsome kinds of Longicorn beetles.
When, on the morning of the 18th, I prepared to start, all the great
people of Moshaneng turned out to bid me farewell; Montsua and Mr.
Martin each bringing me another beautiful white feather. The king
insisted on shaking hands with me over and over again, and as the last
proof of his regard offered to lend me a guide as far as Molopolole,
the residence of the king of the Bakuenas; although the man did not
look very strong, I thought it more graceful to accept the offer.
After leaving the town, we turned first north-west, then north,
crossing two rivers, the second of which was named the Koluany; we then
came to a hilly country, the scenery of which, in beauty, resembled
the imposing Makalaka highlands in miniature. The table-land consisted
partly of bushwood, and partly of grass-land, interspersed here and
there with thinly-wooded districts, and with rocky eminences sometimes
eighty feet in height, composed of huge blocks of granite, generally
pyramidal in form. The soil near these rugged crags was usually moist,
and they were bordered with mimosas, and covered with rich vegetation,
amongst which small aloes with their pink and crimson blossoms,
stapelias with their dark velvet-like flowers, and cactus-like
euphorbiaceæ, with their wondrous shapes, shone pre-eminent, and
charmed the eye not only by their intrinsic beauty, but by the
profusion in which they grew in every cleft of weather-beaten rock,
here peeping out from some dark hollow, and there tightly wedged
between two blocks of stone. But no object on these rocky heights was
so striking as the sycamores that spread their light-grey roots, now
broad and flat, now thick and forked, like a network down the steep
sides of the cliff, their succulent stems rising from the crevices
frequently to eight or ten feet, and terminating in a crown of handsome
foliage. Wood-sorrels, ferns, mosses, and lichens of many kinds were
abundant, and I observed several new lepidoptera and beetles; amongst
the mammalia there were some small beasts of prey and a great many
rock-rabbits. Towards the west, the land sloped towards a brook that,
after rain, assumes the dimensions of a river; from Moshaneng it flows
north by west, then north-west, and finally due north, when it joins
the Molapo. The declivity is steep, and the upper part wooded, and is
known to be the resort of _Hyæna brunnea_ and _punctata_, as
well as of the caracal and leopard.
[Illustration: HYÆNAS AMONG THE CATTLE.]
But the extensive highlands are notoriously infested by large
numbers of that most dangerous of all the South African beasts of
prey, the _Canis pictus_, also called _Lycaon pictus_ or
_venaticus_, and ordinarily known as “the wild dog.” It is one of
the most rapacious and destructive animals on the face of the earth,
and is a deadly enemy to all kinds of cattle. Both Montsua and Mr.
Martin had warned me to be on my guard against their attacks. “Never
let your bullocks graze out at night,” were Montsua’s words to me, “and
never let them be unguarded even by day, if you expect to bring many
of them to Molopolole.” In size this dreaded animal is about as large
as a young wolf, only more slender, and in shape it is a cross between
the proteles and hyæna. Always hunting in herds, they are especially
dangerous; they attack the larger quadrupeds, oxen, elands, and
hartebeests, whilst their ravages amongst sheep, goats, and wild pigs
are still more destructive; they are not content with one victim, but
seize a second and a third, so that the devastation they make is really
frightful. They do not confine their visits to the native territory,
but make their way to cultivated lands on the border of the Transvaal.
They have their holes underground, and sometimes leave their quarters
in winter to range over wider districts, returning in the spring. When
they start on their raids, they hold their noses high in the air, and
if unsuccessful in discovering a scent, they divide into little groups,
and disperse in various directions with their noses down to the surface
of the ground. Having found the track of any wild or domestic animal,
except the horse, which is too swift for them, the entire pack, yelping
and baying, darts off upon the chase with such eager impetuosity, that
many of them fall into the bushes, or run foul of rocks and ant-hills.
Through being so small, they not unfrequently succeed in getting close
to cows or antelopes before they are observed; and whilst the cow may
be defending herself by her horns from the assailants in front, two or
three of the voracious brutes will be biting at her heels, and as many
more at her belly; finding defence hopeless, the unfortunate creature
will take to flight; this occasionally succeeds, and cows are from
time to time seen reaching their homes in the farmsteads with dreadful
wounds all over their bodies; but if they stumble or get seized by the
neck or nostrils, or bitten through their knees or in the stomach, so
that the bowels protrude, it is all over with them, and they die in the
most horrible agonies.
The 18th was spent in crossing the Banquaketse table-land. Everything
seemed blooming in the advancing summer, and I did not see a single
withered mimosa. Towards sundown we entered the valley of a sand-river,
now reduced to a mere rivulet, called the Mosupa, Masupa, or Moshupa;
it was said to join the Taung, an affluent of the Notuany. The
river-bed and its banks were partially strewn with gigantic blocks
of granite that lay in immense flats on the left-hand shore, their
upper surfaces being slightly hollowed, forming natural reservoirs. A
few hundred yards to the right the stream made a sudden turn to the
north-east, and just in the bend rose a fantastic crag connected with
two others of inferior height, and formed of huge masses of rock.
As we descended from the high ground towards the valley, some
luxuriant woodlands and shrubberies cut off any very distant view,
but made some graceful scenery. The setting sun, all aglow, was just
resting on the edge of the adjacent table-land, on the east of which
the Masupa held its course. As the gorgeous disk became concealed,
and a more equal light fell upon the scene, our eyes fell upon an
object which drew from us all an involuntary expression of surprise.
Had we been anywhere but in the heart of South Africa, we should have
concluded at once that we were looking upon some ancient churchyard;
what we really saw were the ruins of a town, enclosed by a low stone
wall, The guide whom Montsua had sent with us, in giving an account of
the place, said that until the last few years it had been occupied by
a branch of the Banquaketse, but that the son of the chief Mosilili,
named Pilani, who was a friend of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas,
had with a number of his dependents left his father’s town and
Khatsisive’s territory, and had settled in Sechele’s new district in
Molopolole; whereupon Mosilili, an old ally of Khatsisive’s, finding
his town half deserted, left the remainder of the residents in the
lurch, and took up his abode near Kanya.
During a stroll that I took along the river, I came across some very
pretty bits of scenery. The banks were high and thickly clothed with
vegetation; and in the stream the slippery boulders, piled one above
another, formed little cataracts and natural weirs that future settlers
might well utilize, either for turning mills or irrigating meadows. In
the thickets on the banks were flocks of horned guinea-fowl (_Numida
coronata_), and in muddy places I saw distinct traces of otters and
water-lizards.
At dinner-time we noticed on the overhanging rocks a number of
rock-rabbits, called “dossies” by the Boers. We started off for a
chase. These creatures are the smallest of all extant pachydermata,
and, on account of being so continually hunted by the natives, are very
shy. As long as we kept near the waggon, which was stationed at the
ruins, they remained passive enough, either squatting as they watched
us from the ledges of rock, or contentedly seeking roots in the bushes,
and figs on the sycamores; but no sooner did we approach the foot of
the crags, than they bounded away instantly into the nearest crevices.
Whilst Eberwald, F., and Stephan were shooting on the east hill, I
made my way to the west, and before long spied out a rock-rabbit
that seemed quite unsuspicious of my movements, and was crouching in
a melancholy attitude, as if oblivious of all the affairs of itself
and the rabbit-world in general. With much caution, and not without
many ludicrous tumbles, which caused a good deal of amusement to Pit,
who was with me, I scrambled on till I was just within range. Pit
wanted me to get nearer; but, assured that my opportunity was now or
never, I fired a charge of small shot straight upwards. My aim was
perfectly good; the rock-rabbit rolled on to the stem of a sycamore
that overhung the precipice, and fell perpendicularly several feet.
We made our way, out of breath, to the foot of the tree, but were
doomed to disappointment. Although the ground was all stained with the
fresh blood, the creature had disappeared; we searched every nook and
crevice, we investigated every corner, but were completely baffled in
finding the wounded rabbit.
[Illustration: HUNTING THE ROCK-RABBIT.
_Page 306._]
This _Hyrax capensis_, if it be not actually the same species
as the _Hyrax abyssinicus_, is certainly very closely allied
to it. It extends all over South Africa, from the south beyond the
Zambesi; it generally selects rocky heights for its habitat; and,
having once settled, it is extremely tenacious of its abode, not
deserting it even though a farm or a village be established below. It
is peculiar in its disposition, having all the appearance of being
meditative, as though carefully weighing its movements before action,
but withal of a savage and snarling nature. In size it is rather
larger than a common rabbit; it has short ears and bright little eyes.
Its fur, which is much sought after by the natives, is of a dark
yellowish-brown tint. The flesh is eaten both by white men and natives;
and many of the tribes, such as the Makalakas, make use of sticks
armed with nails, with which they drag the animals out of their holes.
Besides being hunted by men, it is preyed upon by the caracal, by the
southern lynx (_Lynx pardinus_), and by the brown eagle. In spite,
however, of all the persecution it suffers, it thrives wonderfully; and
nothing seems to put a check upon its propagation. The young ones are
often attacked by genets.
The cliffs that are steepest, and the crags that are the most rugged,
are the favourite resorts of the rock-rabbit. It is not unfrequently
found with a little hare, but this resides, ordinarily, more on the
surface of the ground than in clefts of any depth. It loves warmth;
its chief business of life, after providing itself with food, appears
to be basking in the sun; and damp winters, rare though they are on
the table-land, and extreme cold, try it severely. In confinement, if
it be not allowed plenty of space for moving about, or if it be shut
up in any premises that are the least damp, it soon pines away; it is,
however, very frequently to be seen in dwelling-houses, tied up by a
piece of cord, which it does not attempt to gnaw. The price at which
one can be bought varies from two to five shillings.
There is another species of rock-rabbit, one of which, although I saw a
specimen, I was never able to procure. It has a foxy-red fur. I saw it
in one of the limestone-funnels in the western Transvaal. Besides this,
there is a smaller grey sort, found in the wooded districts of the
southern part of Cape Colony, in Kaffraria, in Natal, and still further
north. Of this I have seen two examples. It is said to have a shrill
piping note, and to be very wild, but better able to endure damp than
its brother of the woods.
As soon as we had all gathered together again after our little
ramble, we made another start. Our road took us across several sandy
river-beds, as well as over a great number of rain-trenches, the
edges of which were overgrown with fine verdant mimosas. Near one
of the trenches, our guide drew our attention to numerous hyæna and
leopard-tracks, a hint to be upon our guard, which we did not neglect.
[Illustration: THE AFRICAN LYNX.
_Page 309._]
And not without reason. Our bullocks had with much difficulty just
effected the passage of the Shutani stream, when the dogs gave tongue
furiously, and Stephan screamed out, “Bas, has! pass up, een chut lup
nack ye tu!”[12]
In a moment our attention was fixed upon the direction whence came the
sound of an angry barking; another instant and a creature, yellowish
in colour, with dark spots, bounded in front of the waggon; a moment
more, and it had dashed down the slope. It was a southern lynx, known
to the natives as a “thari.” It looked so small, and the dogs, with
Onkel at their head, were so close upon its track, that we did not wait
to fetch our guns, but joined helter-skelter in the chase, rushing
headlong over bushes, rocks, and every obstacle. We had not, however,
a very long run; the dogs suddenly came to a halt at a mass of stone
deeply embedded in the ground, where a rift about sixteen inches wide
formed the entrance to a hole; the dogs stood before the gap and barked
vehemently; the thari could be heard spitting savagely out of reach.
We could not spare the time to hunt out the lynx from its retreat, and
with great reluctance were obliged to return to the waggon. At night,
when we made our camp, I enjoined my people to keep the best look-out
they could, and as an additional protection against leopards, I ordered
several large fires to be lighted.
It was through thick and leafy underwood that we proceeded on our next
day’s journey. We met two women, whose necks and breasts were covered
with many strings of beads, their arms and thighs being encircled
with rings about as thick as one’s finger, formed also of tiny beads;
they were walking, followed by a boy, who was driving a bullock laden
with their baggage. By crossing the Koluany we had entered upon the
territory of Sechele, the king of the Bakuenas, who, with the exception
of the two Bamangwato chiefs, owns more land than any of the Bechuana
rulers.
Having made the transit of a little stream called the Malili, the bed
of which was partly stony and partly sandy, we had to ascend through a
forest where the sand was very deep; when we reached the top we could
discern a chain of hills in the north, which seemed to be wooded. They
were the central portion of the Bakuena heights, and on coming nearer
we found that they were joined by another ridge of hills, high up on
one of which was a white speck, like a white-washed European building.
Our guide informed us that it belonged to Molopolole, Sechele’s
residence. In order to reach the town, which was built on the slope of
the range, we had to pass through a wide valley, the bottom of which
was occupied by some meagre, ill-cultivated fields.
In the evening we made our camp about the middle of the valley,
on a grass plot intersected by the bed of a brook, and near three
native villages lying at the foot of a hill. About 300 yards to the
east were the heights surrounding Sechele’s villa, which was built
several hundred feet above the level of the brook, and at the end of
a shallow pass winding up the hills to the north. In close proximity
to the villa, which was sheltered by a small rocky eminence, were
the offices belonging to the royal household, the kotla, or enclosed
conference-hall of the Bakuenas, and the residences of some traders,
who were making a temporary stay in the place. Down below, on the edge
of the valley, was a native village, also a portion of Molopolole;
whilst a third part lay at the foot of the isolated southern ridge that
was separated from the extensive northern and eastern chain by a long
narrow pass called Kobuque by the natives. At the base of the northern
hills, near a part that is fallen into ruins, there was yet another
quarter of the town; this was not in the valley, but just outside,
adjoining the fields that extended to the south-south-west. A second
pass, the rocky entrance of which was called Molopolole, and gave its
name to the town, ran from the valley in a northerly direction, and
formed the course of the brook that descended from the Bakuena heights.
Just where this pass joined the valley stood the mission buildings and
the school, the chapel being situated in the upper portion of the town.