Barmen.—Thunder-storm in the Tropics.—A Man killed by
Lightning.—Warm Spring.—Mr. Hahn: his Missionary Labor; Seed
sown in exceeding stony Ground.—The Lake Omanbondè.—Mr.
Galton’s Mission of Peace.—The Author meets a Lion by the way;
the Beast bolts.—Singular Chase of a Gnoo.—“Killing two Birds
with one Stone.”—A Lion Hunt.—The Author escapes Death by a
Miracle.—Consequences of shooting on a Sunday.
At a first glance, Barmen has a rather dreary aspect. Hans thought it
resembled many of the most desolate parts of Iceland; but, when more
closely examined, it is found to be by no means devoid either of interest
or beauty. It is situated about three quarters of a mile from the Swakop,
and on its right bank. Toward the west, and immediately behind the
station, rise irregular masses of low, broken rocks, ending abruptly on
one side in a bluff, about one thousand feet high. The whole are covered
with a profusion of shrubs, and several species of thorn-trees of the
genus acacia, which, during the greater part of the year, assume every
shade of green. To the eastward it faces the Swakop, the course of which
is conspicuously marked by the handsome black-stemmed mimosa. Beyond
this, the view is limited by a noble range of picturesque mountains,
rising between six and seven thousand feet above the level of the sea.
These receive additional interest from being more or less a continuation
of those mighty chains which take their rise a very few miles from
Cape-Town, thus extending, in a direct line, about one thousand miles.
Within a stone’s-throw of the missionary house, a turbulent mountain
stream winds its tortuous course. It flows, however, only during heavy
rains, when its great fall and violence prove very destructive to the
native gardens.
About two years from the period of which I am now writing, I happened
to be on a visit to Barmen, on which occasion I witnessed one of those
extraordinary phenomena only to be seen to perfection in tropical climes.
One afternoon, heavy and threatening clouds suddenly gathered in the
eastern horizon, the thunder rolled ominously in the distance, and the
sky was rent by vivid lightnings. Knowing, from long experience, its
imports, we instantly set about placing every thing under shelter that
could be injured by the wet. This was hardly accomplished when large
drops of rain began to descend, and in a few seconds the sluice-gates
of heaven appeared to have opened. The storm did not last above half an
hour, but this short time was sufficient to convert the whole country
into one sheet of water. The noise, moreover, caused by the river and
a number of minor mountain streams, as they rolled down their dark,
muddy torrents in waves rising often as high as ten feet, was perfectly
deafening. Gigantic trees, recently uprooted, and others in a state of
decay, were carried away with irresistible fury, and tossed about on
the foaming billows like so many straws. Every vestige of many gardens
was swept away; and some of the native huts, which had been imprudently
erected too close to the river, shared a similar fate. Indeed, it must
have been a miniature deluge.
Wonderful, however, as is the sudden creation of these floods, the very
short time they require to disappear is no less striking. An hour’s
sunshine is sometimes sufficient to transform flooded fields into a
smiling landscape.
These commotions of the elements are of frequent occurrence in the
tropics during the rainy season. Soon after Mr. Galton’s arrival at
Barmen there was a very heavy thunder-storm. One evening, as he and Mr.
Hahn were conversing, they saw a Damara struck dead by lightning within a
hundred yards of where they stood.
Water was abundant at Barmen, and very good. Mr. Hahn had dug a large
well in his own garden, which was of very great convenience and comfort,
as the water thus obtained was always clean and wholesome. Within a
couple of hundred paces of the dwelling-house there were, moreover, two
copious fountains. One of these was a warm spring, the temperature being
157 degrees of Fahrenheit. By means of small channels, this spring was
made to irrigate a considerable portion of garden land, and was also
of great use in seasoning timber. To the laundress, besides, it was
invaluable. During our stay at Barmen we indulged freely in the unusual
and uncommon luxury of a bath, but it proved somewhat relaxing.
Mr. Hahn was a Russian by birth, but had, for a number of years, devoted
himself to the service of the German Rhenish Missionary Society, and was
now using his best endeavors to convert the natives of this benighted
land. At first he had settled among a tribe of Namaquas, under the
powerful robber-chief Jonker Afrikaner, of whom presently. Finding,
however, that these people infinitely preferred to cut the throats of
their fellow-creatures than to listen to his exhortations, and knowing,
moreover, that several missionaries had already established themselves
throughout various parts of Great Namaqua-land, he thought that he
might use his influence to more advantage with the Damaras, among whom,
therefore, he had pitched his tent. Messrs. Rath and Kolbé were his
coadjutors in the good cause.
Seeing that their best endeavors were of little avail without a proper
knowledge of the Damara language, they worked hard in order to master
it, but the difficulty was immense. At last, by the merest chance, they
discovered the key to it, and from that moment they made rapid progress;
so much so that, in the course of a few years, Mr. Hahn was able to
return to Germany, where he has compiled and published a grammar and
dictionary.
On the first appearance of the missionaries in Damara-land, the natives
were very reserved, and retired with their cattle into the interior.
Being wholly dependent on them for supplies of live-stock, the settlers
suffered great hardships and privations. Indeed, on more than one
occasion starvation stared them in the face, and they lived for a long
time in a precarious way on such wild animals as their Hottentot servants
managed to kill. The Damaras, moreover, probably judging others by
themselves, conceived the idea that the missionaries had come into the
country with some sinister object, and that it would be advisable to
frustrate it. Accordingly, they assembled in great numbers within a few
miles of Barmen for the purpose of exterminating the new settlers. Their
diabolical intentions were, however, frustrated by the counsel of one
of their tribe. At the time of which I am now writing, Mr. Hahn and his
coadjutors had completely succeeded in pacifying and conciliating the
Damaras, and a great number of the poorer classes were now living at the
station, where, by a little industry and perseverance, many managed to
live in tolerable comfort. The great source of their wealth consisted in
the cultivation of tobacco, which here grew to perfection, the leaves
of this plant often attaining the size of three feet by two. What they
did not consume themselves was bartered for cattle to their wealthier
countrymen.
Here, however, their civilization seemed to be at a stand-still. The
missionaries were laudably and strenuously exerting themselves in their
behalf, but as yet they had met with little or no encouragement. To the
mind of a Damara, the idea of men visiting them solely from love and
charity is utterly inconceivable. They can not banish a suspicion that
the motives of the stranger must be interested; and they not unfrequently
require a bribe in return for any services they may render to the
missionary cause. As an instance of the utter failure of religious zeal
in these parts, I may mention that Mr. Hahn, who is liked and respected
by the natives, never succeeded, as he himself told me, in converting
a single individual! In one instance, however, he imagined that he had
made a convert; but, before the individual in question could be finally
admitted as a member of the Christian Church, it was necessary that he
should give satisfactory answers to certain questions. One of these was,
whether, according to the usages of Christianity, he would be contented
with _one_ wife. To this the man replied that though he was very anxious
to oblige Mr. Hahn and his friends personally, and to further the objects
of the mission in every way possible, yet his conscience would not permit
him to make so great a sacrifice as that required.
The wealthy Damaras were even more indifferent to spiritual matters than
their poorer brethren; and if they happened to visit any of the stations,
it was not for the purpose of hearing the Gospel preached, but either in
the hope of protection against their enemies, or with a view to business
by bartering tobacco, iron-ware, and so forth. One exception to this rule
was found in the case of the chief Kahichenè, who had settled with part
of his tribe at Schmelen’s Hope.
Mr. Galton had not been idle during my absence. Besides collecting much
interesting information with regard to the Damaras and the Namaquas, he
had ascertained the existence of a fresh-water lake called Omanbondè.
This had the effect of raising our spirits considerably. We had landed
at Walfisch Bay with a vague idea as to our route, and had hitherto felt
quite at a loss how to act.
To enable us to reach Omanbondè it was necessary to pass through
Damara-land, which was totally unknown to Europeans. Even the
missionaries who had resided several years on the frontiers were
ignorant of the country beyond a very few miles of their own stations.
The Damaras themselves entertained the most extravagant notions of its
extent, population, and fertility. The people, however, were known to
be inhospitable, treacherous, suspicious, and inimical to strangers.
It had always been considered insecure to travel among them, but
more particularly so at this time, since their southern neighbors,
the Namaquas, attracted by their vast herds, had lately made several
extensive raids upon them, killing the people, and carrying off large
numbers of cattle, sheep, &c. They believed, and with some show of
reason, that every individual of a light complexion was leagued against
them. They well knew that the cattle stolen from them by their enemies,
the Namaquas, were sold to European traders; and they knew, also, that
if, by accident or design, the cattle belonging to the missionaries,
or other white men, were stolen by the thievish people in question,
they were always restored on application. This, together with the fact
than a European could pass unmolested through the Namaqua territory,
strengthened them in the conviction that we were enemies in disguise.
In order, therefore, to calm their excited feelings, to assure them
of our friendly and peaceable intentions, and to explain to them the
real motive of our journey, Mr. Galton had dispatched messengers to the
principal Damara chiefs. He also wrote to Jonker Afrikaner (having
previously sent messengers to him while at Richterfeldt), remonstrating
with him on the barbarity and injustice of his conduct. Jonker is a
leading chieftain among the Namaqua-Hottentots. He headed in person the
greater part of the marauding expeditions into Damara-land.
Having spent a few days agreeably and usefully at Barmen, we prepared to
return to our camp at Richterfeldt; but when the day of departure had
arrived, I felt very feverish, and Galton was obliged to prosecute his
journey without me. In a short time, however, I was able to follow.
On riding briskly along early one morning, I observed, as I thought, a
solitary zebra a few hundred yards in advance. Instantly alighting, and
leaving “Spring” to take care of himself, I made toward the quarry, gun
in hand, under cover of a few small trees. Having proceeded for some
distance, I peeped cautiously from behind a bush, when I found, to my
astonishment, that the animal which I had taken for a zebra was nothing
less than a noble lion. He was quietly gazing at me. I must confess I
felt a little startled at the unexpected apparition; but, recovering
quickly from my surprise, I advanced to meet him. He, however, did not
think fit to wait till I was within proper range, but turned tail, and
fled toward the Swakop. Hoping to be able to come to close quarters with
him, I followed at the top of my speed, and was rapidly gaining ground on
the brute, when suddenly, with two or three immense bounds, he cleared
an open space, and was the next moment hidden from view among the thick
reeds that here lined the banks of the river. Having no dogs with me,
all my efforts to dislodge him from his stronghold proved unavailing.
While still lingering about the place, I came upon the carcass of a gnoo,
on which a troop of lions had apparently been feasting not many minutes
previously. Undoubtedly my somewhat dastardly friend had been one of the
party.
In the afternoon of the same day that I reached Richterfeldt a very
exciting and animating chase took place. A gnoo had been slightly wounded
by a Hottentot servant of Mr. Rath. The natives, who had watched the
whole affair from the station, immediately gave chase to the animal.
Finding itself hard pressed, the gnoo, in its fright, took refuge in
the village, where it was quickly hemmed in on all sides. Every woman
and child had turned out to witness its destruction, while the men
were vociferously contending about the right to the carcass. Assegais
and arrows, moreover, were whizzing thick round our ears, and I had
considerable difficulty in making my way through this scene of confusion
to the poor gnoo, which I found at bay in the middle of Mr. Rath’s
sheep-kraal, not twenty feet from his own dwelling. It was pierced with
two assegais, and the blood flowed in streams down its panting and
foaming sides.
Though the gnoo is but a comparatively small animal, its high fore
quarters, its coarse and shaggy mane, and its buffalo head, gives it a
very imposing and formidable appearance. It was impatiently stamping
and striking the ground with its fore feet, and its looks seemed to bid
defiance to us all.
At some risk, on account of the immense concourse of people assembled,
I put a ball through the animal’s shoulders, which at once ended its
sufferings. A few minutes more—nay, rather seconds—there was not a
vestige to be seen of it. Indeed, it was literally torn to pieces by the
natives.
On paying my respects, later in the evening, to Mr. and Mrs. Rath, I was
politely informed that the penalty for shooting the gnoo was a goat.
This being explained, I found, to my surprise, that the ball had passed
clean through the antelope, and had struck dead a goat belonging to these
worthy people.
The day previously to my reaching the encampment, Mr. Galton had started
on an excursion to the westward. His object was chiefly to procure
cattle from the natives, for we had not yet succeeded in obtaining a
sufficiency of animals. He was also anxious to see and explore Erongo, a
mountain famous at once for its peculiar formation, and as a stronghold
of that curious race, the Hill-Damaras. Mr. Galton was accompanied by
Hans, who had already visited the place, and a few other servants. On his
return from Erongo, we were to start, with the wagons, up the country.
One day, when eating my humble dinner, I was interrupted by the arrival
of several natives, who, in breathless haste, related that an _ongeama_,
or lion, had just killed one of their goats close to the mission station
(Richterfeldt), and begged of me to lend them a hand in destroying
the beast. They had so often cried “wolf” that I did not give much
heed to their statements; but, as they persisted in their story, I at
last determined to ascertain its truth. Having strapped to my waist a
shooting-belt, containing the several requisites of a hunter, such as
bullets, caps, knife, &c., I shouldered my trusty double-barreled gun
(after loading it with steel-pointed balls), and followed the men.
In a short time we reached the spot where the lion was believed to have
taken refuge. This was in a dense tamarisk brake of some considerable
extent, situated partially on and below the sloping banks of the Swakop,
near to its junction with the Ommutenna, one of its tributaries.
On the rising ground above the brake in question were drawn up, in battle
array, a number of Damaras and Namaquas, some armed with assegais, and a
few with guns. Others of the party were in the brake itself, endeavoring
to oust the lion.
But as it seemed to me that the “beaters” were timid, and, moreover,
somewhat slow in their movements, I called them back, and, accompanied
by only one or two persons, as also a few worthless dogs, entered the
brake myself. It was rather a dangerous proceeding; for, in places, the
cover was so thick and tangled as to oblige me to creep on my hands and
knees, and the lion, in consequence, might easily have pounced upon me
without a moment’s warning. At that time, however, I had not obtained
any experimental knowledge of the old saying, “A burnt child dreads the
fire,” and therefore felt little or no apprehension.
Thus I had proceeded for some time, when suddenly, and within a few paces
of where I stood, I heard a low, angry growl, which caused the dogs, with
hair erect in the manner of hogs’ bristles, and with their tails between
their legs, to slink behind my heels. Immediately afterward a tremendous
shout of “Ongeama! Ongeama!” was raised by the natives on the bank above,
followed by a discharge of fire-arms. Presently, however, all was still
again, for the lion, as I subsequently learned, after showing himself on
the outskirts of the brake, had retreated into it.
Once more I attempted to dislodge the beast; but, finding the enemy
awaiting him in the more open country, he was very loth to leave his
stronghold. Again, however, I succeeded in driving him to the edge of the
brake, where, as in the first instance, he was received with a volley;
but a broom-stick would have been equally efficacious as a gun in the
hands of these people, for out of a great number of shot that were fired,
not one seemed to have taken effect.
Worn out at length by my exertions, and disgusted beyond measure at the
way in which the natives bungled the affair, I left the tamarisk brake,
and, rejoining them on the bank above, offered to change places with
them; but my proposal, as I expected, was forthwith declined.
As the day, however, was now fast drawing to a close, I determined
to make one other effort to destroy the lion, and, should that prove
unsuccessful, to give up the chase. Accordingly, accompanied by only a
single native, I again entered the brake in question, which I examined
for some time without seeing any thing; but on arriving at that part of
the cover we had first searched, and when in a spot comparatively free
from bushes, up suddenly sprung the beast within a few paces of me. It
was a black-maned lion, and one of the largest I ever remember to have
encountered in Africa. But his movements were so rapid, so silent and
smooth withal, that it was not until he had partially entered the thick
cover (at which time he might have been about thirty paces distant) that
I could fire. On receiving the ball, he wheeled short about, and with a
terrific roar bounded toward me. When within a few paces, he couched,
as if about to spring, having his head imbedded, so to say, between his
fore-paws.
Drawing a large hunting-knife and slipping it over the wrist of my right
hand, I dropped on one knee, and, thus prepared, awaited his onset.
It was an awful moment of suspense, and my situation was critical in
the extreme. Still, my presence of mind never for a moment forsook
me—indeed, I felt that nothing but the most perfect coolness and absolute
self-command would be of any avail.
I would now have become the assailant; but, as—owing to the intervening
bushes, and clouds of dust raised by the lion’s lashing his tail against
the ground—I was unable to see his head, while to aim at any other part
would have been madness, I refrained from firing. While intently watching
his every motion, he suddenly bounded toward me; but, whether it was
owing to his not perceiving me, partially concealed as I was in the long
grass, or to my instinctively throwing my body on one side, or to his
miscalculating the distance, in making his last spring he went clear over
me, and alighted on the ground three or four paces beyond. Instantly,
and without rising, I wheeled round on my knee and discharged my second
barrel; and as his broadside was then toward me, lodged a ball in his
shoulder, which it completely smashed. On receiving my second fire, he
made another and more determined rush at me, but, owing to his disabled
state, I happily avoided him. It was, however, only by a hair’s breadth,
for he passed me within arm’s length. He afterward scrambled into the
thick cover beyond, where, as night was then approaching, I did not deem
it prudent to pursue him.
[Illustration: THE LUCKY ESCAPE.]
At an early hour on the next morning, however, we followed his “spoor,”
and soon came to the spot where he had passed the night. The sand here
was one patch of blood, and the bushes immediately about were broken, and
beaten down by his weight as he had staggered to and fro in his effort to
get on his legs again. Strange to say, however, we here lost all clew to
the beast. A large troop of lions, that had been feasting on a giraffe in
the early morning, had obliterated his tracks, and it was not until some
days afterward, and when the carcass was in a state of decomposition,
that his death was ascertained. He breathed his last very near to where
we were “at fault;” but, in prosecuting the search, we had unfortunately
taken exactly the opposite direction.
On our homeward path from the pursuit of the lion we fell in with a herd
of zebras, and, while discharging my gun at them, I accidentally pulled
both triggers at once. The piece being very light, and loaded with double
charges, the barrel flew out of the stock, the cocks burying themselves
deep in the flesh on either side of my nose, just under the eyes, and
left scars visible to this day. Mr. Rath, on seeing me in this plight,
was good enough to say, by way of consolation, that it was undoubtedly a
just punishment of Heaven in consequence of my having carried a gun on a
Sunday!