Dispatch a Messenger to Cape-Town.—Depart from
Barmen.—Eikhams.—Eyebrecht.—Depart from Eikhams.—Elephant
Fountain.—Tunobis.—Enormous quantities of Game.—Shooting
by Night at the “Skarm.”—The Author has several narrow
Escapes.—Checked in attempt to reach the Ngami.—The Party
set out on their Return.—Reach Elephant Fountain.—How to
make Soap.—Pitfalls.—A night Adventure.—Game scarce.—Join
Hans.—The Party nearly poisoned.—Arrival at Walfisch
Bay.—A tub Adventure.—Extraordinary Mortality among the
Fish.—Author narrowly escapes Drowning.—Arrival of the
Missionary Vessel.—Letters from Home.—Mr. Galton returns to
Europe.—Reflections.
The vessel which brought the missionary stores to Walfisch Bay every
second year was expected in December, and by this opportunity we hoped to
be able to return to Europe, or at least to the Cape. In order, however,
to insure a passage, Mr. Galton dispatched a messenger to his banker
in Cape-Town to make the needful arrangements. In the mean time, as we
had still several months on our hands, Galton resolved to employ the
interval in making an excursion to the eastward, partly with the view
of penetrating to the Lake Ngami, our original object, and partly to
become better acquainted with Great Namaqua-land and its semi-civilized
inhabitants. Moreover, the prospect of good sport with the larger game,
which every one said we were sure to meet with in abundance, was a
further inducement to undertake the journey.
It was arranged that Hans should proceed to Walfisch Bay with one of the
vehicles to fetch the remainder of the stores, &c., while Galton and
myself, with the other wagon, prosecuted our journey to the eastward.
A rendezvous having been appointed where Hans was to meet us, we left
Barmen in the afternoon of the 12th of August. In about three days we
reached Eikhams, the residence, as already said, of Jonker Afrikaner;
where my friend, before finally leaving the country, was anxious to
settle certain disputes between the native tribes.
Eikhams is very prettily situated on the slope of a hill, bare at the
summit, but at its base adorned with very fine groups of mimosas, among
which a tributary to the Swakop winds its course. It was the only spot
in South Africa where I ever saw any thing resembling a twilight. This
was produced from the reflection of the setting sun on the peaks of the
picturesque mountain ranges by which it is almost entirely surrounded.
Eikhams is abundantly supplied with water from three or four copious
springs, and the site of these springs being elevated, the land in the
lower ground is easily irrigated. The natives construct gardens, wherein
they grow many sorts of vegetables, some of which arrive at perfection.
The soil is exceedingly fertile, and seems well suited to the cultivation
of tobacco. Taking it as a whole, Eikhams is the prettiest place I ever
saw either in Damara-land or Namaqua-land.
About twenty minutes’ walk from Eikhams is a bountiful hot spring.
The water, just where it gushes out from the limestone rock, has a
temperature of 194 degrees of Fahrenheit. Mr. Hahn informed me that here,
on one occasion, he boiled a piece of meat, and that, though not quite so
good as when dressed in the ordinary manner, it was not unpalatable.
Eikhams, as already said, was formerly a Rhenish missionary station. It
was founded so far back as 1843 by the Rev. C. H. Hahn, resident at New
Barmen in Damara-land. After a time, however, it was given up to the
Wesleyan Society, which sent Mr. Haddy to reside there. This gentleman
erected an excellent dwelling-house and a most substantial church. For a
while the mission flourished, but was latterly abandoned, and the station
is now rapidly falling into decay. This, I am sorry to say, has been the
fate of many other institutions of a similar nature in Southern Africa.
Among other gifts, Mr. Galton presented Jonker with a splendid cocked hat
and richly-gilt uniform: a court dress, in fact, that had once probably
adorned the person of some great man when paying his respects to majesty,
and with which the African chief expressed himself highly gratified.
Being desirous of obtaining a likeness of so famous a personage as
Afrikaner, I requested him one day to put on this costume and allow me to
take his portrait. He good-naturedly consented to my solicitation, and on
the following morning appeared duly appareled. We rather expected to have
a laugh at him, since his gait and figure were somewhat unprepossessing;
but we were disappointed. He marched up to his seat with as much ease and
dignity as if he were familiar with the usage of courts.
During our stay at Eikhams we became acquainted with a Mr. Eyebrecht,
formerly in the missionary employ, but now Jonker’s right-hand man.
In addition to excellent English and Dutch, he spoke the Namaqua and
the Damara tongues rather fluently. As he was well acquainted with the
country, Mr. Galton secured his services for our tour to the eastward,
and he proved of the greatest assistance.
[Illustration: JONKER AFRIKANER.]
On arriving at Eikhams Mr. Galton imagined that his business with Jonker
would soon be arranged; but in this part of the world expedition is not
the order of the day, and we were therefore so long delayed as to prevent
our departure until the 30th of August.
In the course of our journey we encountered a great number and variety of
wild animals, and consequently our larder was well supplied. Indeed, in a
few hours, on a certain night, I bagged no less than three hartebeests,
two pallahs, and five zebras, and, had I felt inclined, might have shot
double this number. We also observed a few wild boars.
After a fortnight’s harassing travel we arrived at Elephant Fountain,
formerly a Wesleyan missionary station. It was founded in 1847 by the
Rev. Mr. Tindal, but had of late years been abandoned in consequence of
a destructive fever, which carried off many of the natives. Even the few
Europeans settled there suffered severely. It was situated within the
territory of the chief Amral, who was born and bred in the Cape Colony,
and, if I am not misinformed, was raised to his present dignity partly
through missionary influence.
[Illustration: WILD BOAR’S HEAD.]
Elephant Fountain is chiefly inhabited by Hill-Damaras, who cultivate
extensive gardens of tobacco, &c. Game was abundant thereabout, but we
had not then time to look after it.
From Elephant Fountain eastward the country was represented as very
sandy and bushy, and, as our oxen were in a very indifferent condition,
we determined to leave the wagon behind in charge of John Mortar, the
cook, and to prosecute our journey with pack-and-ride oxen. Amral, with a
great number of the tribe, expressed a wish to accompany us, chiefly for
the sake of the anticipated sport. As we traveled on we were joined by
Lambert, his son, and other Namaquas, with their attendants, till at last
our party amounted to several hundred individuals.
After no little inconvenience and misery, on account of the great heat,
the terrible drought, and scarcity of pasturage about the few and
widely-separated watering-places, we reached Tunobis, or Otjombindè, on
the 3d of October. According to Mr. Galton’s observations, this place is
situated in latitude 21° 55´ and 21° 55´ east longitude.
The Bushmen who inhabited these parts declared that the country between
here and the Ngami was then impassable, and that any attempt on our
part to reach it would be certain destruction to ourselves and cattle.
Though we did not altogether credit their story, we felt that, under the
circumstances, it would have been highly imprudent to proceed farther.
From a rough calculation, we concluded that we could not be above nine or
ten days’ journey from the lake, and it was, therefore, with no little
reluctance that we gave up the attempt. However, it was all for the best,
and we ought, indeed, to be grateful to the natives for their truthful
information. From after experience, I am quite confident that, had we
tried to push on that year, nothing could have saved us and our beasts
of burden from perishing from thirst. After leaving Tunobis, we should
not have met with water for at least three days and a half of actual
travel, besides the necessary delays. To perform this, even with fresh
animals, would perhaps have been a thing unheard-of in these regions, but
the difficulty was magnified by the state of our cattle, which were now
reduced to skeletons. Indeed, even before reaching Tunobis, some of them
had been left behind from sheer exhaustion.
I must confess that, on first reading my friend’s narrative, I was
somewhat startled on coming upon his pleasant assertion that he did not
much care about reaching Lake Ngami. It is true that, when landing at
Walfisch Bay, we had but little hope of arriving there; but, at least
for my own part, I had always conceived the great goal of our journey to
be precisely the Ngami. Moreover, with regard to his supposition that
the country hence toward the lake was comparatively open and free from
bushes, and that, consequently, a road to it could be traced without
the slightest difficulty, I can only say that shortly after leaving
Tunobis—not to mention the scarcity of water—the bush becomes so dense,
and the thorns so tormenting, that I found it necessary to make immense
_détours_, and even then all our clothes, pack-saddles, &c., were
literally torn to ribbons.
The few days that we remained at Tunobis were spent profitably and
pleasantly. Besides much interesting information of the country, derived
from the Bushmen, part of which has since been substantiated, we had
abundant shooting. From the absence of water within a distance of two
or three days’ journey of the place, the number of animals that nightly
congregated here to quench their thirst was truly astonishing.
To give the reader an idea of the immense quantity of game hereabouts, I
may mention that, in the course of the few days we remained at Tunobis,
our party shot, among other animals, upward of thirty rhinoceroses. One
night, indeed, when quite alone, I killed, in the space of five hours
(independently of other game), no less than eight of those beasts, among
which were three distinct species; and it is my belief that if I had
persevered I might have destroyed double the number.[37] But I never
took delight in useless slaughter. In our case, and I think I may say in
all cases where I have been concerned in killing a great number of wild
beasts, not a pound of flesh was ever wasted, for what we did not require
for our own use was devoured by the natives.
As another evidence of the enormous quantity of game in this region, I
may state that the fountain in question, which was a copious one—nay,
apparently inexhaustible—was almost nightly drunk dry.
On several occasions I had narrow escapes from being gored by the horns
of these ugly monsters. Thus one animal, on receiving a mortal wound,
charged me with such fury as to carry completely away the fore part of
my “skärm,” and I only saved my life by throwing myself with great force
against the opposite wall, which fortunately gave way.
At another time I was walking leisurely up to a huge female white
rhinoceros, that Mr. Galton had killed during the preceding night, when
all at once its calf, about the size of an ox, rushed upon me from behind
the carcass. Its movements were so rapid that I had neither time to
get out of its way nor to level my gun; but passing the barrel, like a
stick, against its chest, I fired, and, as luck would have it, the ball
caused the calf to swerve on one side and take itself off. A short time
afterward, and at no great distance from our encampment, it was found
dead.
Being tired of shooting, and having got all the information we could from
the Bushmen, we bent our steps homeward. Our failure in not reaching
the Lake Ngami deeply mortified me. Night and day I was haunted by
the thought. Taking every thing into consideration, I could not help
thinking that, under more favorable circumstances, success would crown my
endeavors, were I determined to renew the attempt. Accordingly, I made up
my mind first to see my friend safe from the African shore, and then to
return as soon as the rains had fallen.
I communicated my resolve to Mr. Galton, who at once fully entered into
my views; and as I had neither oxen nor wagons, he kindly promised to
supply me with both, as also with such articles of barter as his own
reduced stores afforded.
After nearly a month’s absence, we found ourselves safe at Elephant
Fountain. Notwithstanding we had been almost solely living on fresh meat
during this time, we had only used the one half of a small copper-cap
box[38] of salt! I mention the circumstance to show that salt is not
strictly necessary to man’s existence. Moreover, excepting once or twice
at the missionary table, we had not tasted bread for months. I had so
totally forgotten the use of it, that, after our return to Barmen,
on being entertained at Mr. Hahn’s house, I finished my meal without
noticing the piece of bread which was conspicuous enough alongside my
plate. Our men grumbled a little at first at being deprived of bread,
but they also soon got accustomed to do without it, nor did the least
inconvenience arise from its absence. I have always heard that the want
of bread and vegetables is the greatest hardship a man can experience.
Be that as it may, the human system—as the above facts demonstrate—is
capable of reconciling itself to nearly all conditions and circumstances.
The men left in charge of the wagon were well, but poor John Mortar,
the cook, looked pale and thin. On asking him the cause, he pointed
to the fire where our food was cooked, and, with something like an
oath, exclaimed, “Sir, look at that pot! I have been watching it these
seven-and-twenty days and nights, and, after all, I find that my labor is
thrown away!”
Shortly after leaving Elephant Fountain, John, it seems, had set about
making soap, of which our supply was exhausted. Through some mistake,
however, he used unslaked lime instead of the alkali obtained in the
country from the ash of the native soap-bush. This at once accounted
for his failure in regard to the article itself, and his own emaciated
appearance.
Game, as has been said, was very abundant near to Elephant Fountain, and,
by means of spacious pitfalls, great numbers of wild animals were almost
nightly captured. The whole ground in the neighborhood of Zwart Nosop,
which flowed past the place, was literally a succession of pitfalls, and
they were so cleverly arranged and well concealed that it required the
utmost caution in walking about. Even people thoroughly acquainted with
the locality ran great risk of being precipitated into these dangerous
traps.
Lions were numerous and very daring. From time to time, several of
Amral’s people, while lying in ambush for game at night, had been either
carried off or fearfully mangled by these beasts. Finding that I was
somewhat incautious, the chief expressed the greatest apprehensions for
my safety, more especially as I was usually quite alone.
On one of these occasions I must confess to having felt rather
uncomfortable. I had posted myself in a dense mimosa brake, commanding
the approach to the Zwart Nosop River at a point much frequented by wild
animals, and flanked by an immense pitfall. The darkness was deepened
by surrounding thick foliage and high river banks. Indeed, so black
was the night that I could not discern even the muzzle of my gun. The
gloominess of my solitude was increased by the occasional “Qua-qua!”
of the night-heron, which made the succeeding hush more dreary, during
which even the falling of leaves and rustling of insects among dry grass
was hailed as a relief to the oppressive dumbness. To a man in a savage
wilderness, and without a companion, silence, especially when combined
with utter privation of light, is inexpressibly solemn. It strikes the
mind not merely as a negation, but as a threatening presence. It seems
ominous. I shall never forget the loneliness and sense of desolation I
felt on this occasion. It was past midnight, and still no game appeared.
Suddenly I fancied I heard the purr and breathing of an animal close
behind me; but as no other indications of any living thing ensued, I
attributed the sounds to a heated imagination. All at once, however, the
dismal stillness was disturbed by the quick steps of a troop of pallahs
descending the stony slope leading direct to my ambush. Stooping as low
as possible, in order to catch their outline, I waited their arrival with
my gun on full cock. Nearer and nearer they came, till at last I fancied
the leader was on the verge of the pitfall; but just at that moment
there was a low, stifled growl, a rush, and then a faint cry, as of some
dying animal. All was again silent. Though the impenetrable darkness
prevented me from seeing any thing, I could no longer doubt that I was
in the immediate vicinity of a lion. I freely acknowledge that I felt
awed, well knowing that, were he to attack me, I should be completely
at his mercy. My situation was critical in the extreme. Straining eyes
and ears to discover the beast’s whereabout, I held my breath in fearful
suspense, while every nerve was strung to the highest pitch. Presently I
heard, to my astonishment, the report of a gun within fifty paces of my
hiding-place; then a second and a third shot. This made matters worse;
for I now became apprehensive that the men, not aware of my presence,
might direct their fire toward me. I therefore sprang to my feet, and
vociferated, “Who’s there?” “Sir! the lion—the lion!” replied Eyebrecht,
for it was no other. The next instant he stood trembling before me. He
had, it appeared, been sent by Amral to call me back, but had encountered
the beast in his path, and fired, in order to frighten him away.
Though I did not exactly comply with the wishes of the chief, I deemed it
advisable, after what had passed, to remove to a more open place, where I
was less likely to be taken by surprise. Early next morning a number of
Hottentots came to examine the ground, when, as I had expected, we found
the footprints of a lion at the very back of my “skärm,” and scarcely
distant the length of the gun-barrel from my own person, where he had
evidently been crouching previously to leaping on the pallah (whose cry
I had heard in the night), but which, though wounded, had effected its
escape. How far the beast intended me mischief is hard to say, but, in
any case, my position had not been an enviable one.
On our return journey to Barmen it rained heavily, and in some places
the landscape looked quite revived. Many migratory birds, such as the
swallow, the cuckoo, and others, had again made their appearance.
The animals, which during the dry season are compelled to gather round
the springs and other permanent waters, were enabled, by the late
rains, to scatter themselves over a large extent of country, and were
now difficult to find. There can be little doubt that the instinctive
power of animals—domesticated as well as wild—is capable of catching the
scent of humid winds and green herbage at a very great distance. Thus I
have often seen oxen turn their heads toward the quarter where distant
lightning indicated that rain had fallen, and sniff with evident pleasure
the breeze produced by colder air. Mr. Moffat, the missionary, mentions
an instance where a great number of cattle were entirely lost, solely, as
he supposes, from this cause.
“Many years previous to my sojourn in Namaqua-land,” says the reverend
gentleman, “Afrikaner thus lost the greater part of his cattle. One
evening a strong wind commenced blowing from the north; it smelt of
green grass, as the natives expressed it. The cattle, not being in
folds, started off after dark. The circumstance being unprecedented,
it was supposed they had merely wandered out to the common, where they
were accustomed to graze; but it was found, after much search, that some
thousands of cattle had directed their course to the north. A few were
recovered, but the majority escaped to the Damara country, after having
been pursued hundreds of miles.”
For my own part, I have frequently passed through localities abounding
with game, and, repassing them in a short time, I have found them
deserted without any apparent cause; as I proceeded, however, I have
discovered them in quite different quarters, and ascertained that the
attraction has been the young grass, which was either produced by the
moisture of the atmosphere, or from the natives having fired the old
grass. The rapidity with which parched and sunburnt pasturages in
tropical climes are converted by any of these causes into luxuriant
savannas is incredible, and can only be duly estimated by those who have
themselves witnessed such changes.
A stage on this side of Eikhams we encountered Hans, who had met with
a little adventure in the neighborhood of Scheppman’s Mountain, where
he had one day unyoked. He had been out in search of game, when on his
return he was astonished to observe a number of natives rushing toward
the wagon, no doubt with the intention of plundering it, and probably of
spearing the men who had it in charge. On seeing Hans approach with a
gun, however, they all took to their heels; but some were captured, and,
after they had undergone a sound drubbing, and been threatened with death
should they ever attempt a similar outrage, they were allowed to depart.
Not many hours elapsed before these very savages returned to beg for
tobacco!
We were sorry to find that our cattle looked thin and miserable. Indeed,
Hans had experienced the greatest difficulty in bringing on the wagon.
Restored tranquillity had given confidence to the Damaras, who were now
flocking in great numbers with their cattle to the banks of the Swakop,
the result of which was that every blade of grass was consumed for
miles around both sides of the river. This was indeed sad news, as our
route lay precisely through these parts, and our draft animals were by
this time in a distressingly exhausted and reduced state. It required
some efforts on our part to overcome these difficulties, and we lost no
time in retracing our steps. After Mr. Galton had disposed of some of
the superfluous goods to the natives, and exchanged the runaway mules
to Jonker for cattle, we bade farewell to the hospitable hearth of the
missionaries at Barmen and Richterfeldt, and proceeded quickly on our
road to Walfisch Bay.
On arriving at the confluence of the Swakop and the Tjobis Rivers, we had
a narrow escape from being poisoned, as the Hill-Damaras had mixed the
juice of the _euphorbia candelabrum_ with the stagnant pool-water for the
purpose of killing buffaloes, which were numerous hereabout. Fortunately,
by having gone in advance of our party, in the hope of obtaining a shot
at these animals, I discovered the poisoned water (easily detected by its
peculiar clay color) in time to prevent any serious mischief. Some of the
dogs partook of it, but, having previously taken their fill of clear,
pure water, they escaped with a heavy vomiting. At this identical place
Hans had a short time previously found several dead and dying buffaloes
that had been poisoned.
The symptoms with men, after imbibing the poison in question—not the
least of the many dangers to which the African traveler is almost
daily exposed—are generally a fullness of the system, quick pulsation,
giddiness, and a violent “flesh-quake.”
Though our cattle suffered dreadfully from want of pasturage, we reached
Walfisch Bay on the 5th of December without the loss of a single ox.
The missionary vessel had not yet arrived, but there were two others, a
brig and a bark. The master of the first was an Englishman, in search of
guano, as also of nitrate of soda, which was reported to exist on this
coast. He imagined that he had really found the latter valuable salt,
and whispered his discovery to us as a great secret. On examining the
specimens in his possession, however, it was found to be nothing more
nor less than pieces of common soap! part, probably, of the cargo of
some wrecked vessel. The action of the water had so altered the soap in
appearance that the mistake was really excusable. On learning from us the
real nature of his supposed prize, the poor captain, as may be imagined,
evinced no little chagrin and disappointment.
The second ship was an American, in search of the sperm whale, which is
not unfrequently found in these waters. Our shabby and tattered garments
and unshaved faces induced the captain to regard us at first with
suspicion, taking us not improbably for outlaws, unfit for other society
than savage men and beasts. By degrees, however, his mind, as to our
proper character, was set at rest, and we were hospitably entertained on
board his ship, which was scrupulously clean and orderly.
The crews of many of the whaling and guano ships who were in the habit
of frequenting Walfisch Bay had behaved very outrageously, either
by plundering, or wantonly destroying the contents of the temporary
store-house. On one occasion they had been amusingly baffled in their
dishonest and disreputable practices. At the time of which I am now
speaking, the store was tenanted by Mr. Dickson, the trader, who
possessed some very fine lion cubs. These a certain captain determined
to purloin, and, for that purpose, sent a number of his men in the
dead of the night to carry them away. The animals were usually kept in
a large tub or barrel; but it so happened that, on the very evening
the master had fixed on for the execution of his plan, they had been
removed elsewhere, and that Mr. Bassingweight, one of Mr. Dickson’s
_employés_, had taken up his abode in their old quarters. The sailors
entered the building unperceived, and began rapidly to roll the tub away.
Mr. Bassingweight at first imagined he was dreaming; but, as the motion
became more violent, the thumping of his head against the wooden walls
soon brought him to his senses, on which he roared out most lustily. The
unexpected and strange noise so terrified the sailors that they made a
precipitate retreat.
The next morning, the captain, having previously had the audacity to
possess himself of one of Mr. Dickson’s horses, came riding, very drunk,
to his house, and in an imperious and impudent tone demanded the cubs to
be given up to him. At the same time, he thrust an immense dagger through
a dish of pancakes which a servant was busy preparing. Mr. Dickson was
not at home; but his wife, who was a shrewd and determined woman, not
only refused compliance, but commanded the fellow instantly to dismount
and go about his business. On his hesitating, she unceremoniously
pulled him off the horse, and threatened to knock him down if he did
not immediately leave the house. Fearing, however, that he might return
with his crew during the night to revenge himself, and, perhaps, take
forcible possession of the young lions, she ordered Bassingweight and
another of her servants (having previously primed them with cordials to
raise their spirits and courage) to proceed at dusk toward the Bay to
watch the enemy’s movements. Mrs. Dickson’s surmise proved correct; for
the men had not gone far before they distinguished the clamorous voices
of a number of persons who were rapidly approaching them. Squatting
behind some sand-hillocks, they allowed the marauders to come within
range, when they fired a shot over their heads, which had the desired
effect. Without waiting for further hostility, Jack instantly bolted.
Elated by their easy success, Bassingweight and his companion instantly
gave chase, and on coming up with the fugitives, a terrible _pele-mêle_
fight ensued. Notwithstanding one of the men was almost a giant in
strength and stature, the odds were too great, and they were on the
point of being overpowered. At this critical moment Bassingweight called
loudly for assistance, hoping that some of the natives, who occasionally
slept on the beach, might come to the rescue. To their inexpressible
relief, up rose from among a number of empty barrels, which happened to
be ranged along the shore, a Bushman. His appearance acted like magic,
and instantly turned the cards in their favor; for the sailors, as it
was afterward ascertained, imagining the casks to be savages also, and
dreading probably their poisoned arrows, were seized with a panic, and
fled precipitately in every direction, some rushing up to their necks in
water, while others actually fell on their knees begging forgiveness!
Unless for the Bushman, Bassingweight assured me that himself and
companion must have been inevitably killed.
The bay presented at this time a most extraordinary spectacle, the whole
being covered with one mass of dead fish. We could only account for so
unusual a sight by supposing that an epidemic had occurred among them,
more especially as it did not appear to be confined to one or two species
of the finny tribe, but to all which are indigenous to the coast, the
gigantic shark not excepted. In some of the more sheltered spots the fish
lay so deep that I remember on one occasion to have had some difficulty
in forcing my way through in a small Mackintosh punt.
As may well be expected, the effluvium arising from such a mass of
decomposed matter was offensive and sickening. Whether all the fish
died, or the stench drove the survivors away, I am unable to decide;
but certain it is that hardly a fish was left in the Bay. On our first
arrival we captured large quantities by means of a small seine-net, but
now all our attempts proved futile.
An incident occurred to me one day which might have been attended with
fatal consequences. A cutter had lately arrived from the Cape, the object
of the captain being to harpoon the “humpback” whale, which at this
season of the year abounds in the vicinity of Walfisch Bay. I had paid a
visit to the craft in the punt mentioned. On my return it came on to blow
hard from the land. In calm weather the punt could be managed with great
ease; but, on account of her flat bottom and light construction, it was
impossible to make head against a stiff breeze. When within a stone’s
throw of the shore she became unmanageable, and for the space of fully
one hour all my efforts to propel her were unavailing. At last, finding
my strength failing, I made one more desperate effort, and, having
fortunately succeeded in getting her into shallow water, I leaped over
the side and ultimately brought her to a place of safety. My arms were
quite paralyzed, and for a while I was unable to lift them from my sides.
Had the struggle lasted another minute, nothing could have saved me from
being blown out into the open sea, and as there was a gale of wind at the
time, there can be no doubt as to the result.
On the 31st of December, being then at Scheppmansdorf, I received
intelligence that the long-expected missionary vessel had arrived, and
that she was to sail in a few days for St. Helena. On the following
morning, the first day of the year 1852, a parcel of European letters
was handed to me. It was now fully twenty months since I had heard any
news of my friends, and I hailed this token of their interest in my
behalf with rapture. But alas! although I had much to be thankful for,
the intelligence was damped by the unexpected tidings of the death of a
younger brother. Poor fellow! notwithstanding he and I could never agree
during life, I loved him dearly. His last words, uttered in delirium,
were said to have been addressed to me, imploring me to come to his
assistance. He died at Rio Janeiro of that scourge, the yellow fever.
Peace be to his memory! The cholera was also raging in Sweden, and I
trembled for the news that might next reach me.
I proceeded immediately to Walfisch Bay to bid farewell to Galton.
John Williams, John Mortar, and Timbo were to accompany him to St.
Helena, whence they were to be forwarded to Cape-Town. Hans—in himself a
host—John Allen, and John St. Helena, agreed to remain with me.
My specimens of natural history, which had been collected with much care
and trouble, and which had cost me many a sleepless night, I consigned to
Galton’s care. They consisted of about five hundred bird-skins, nearly
double that number of insects, and a few odds and ends. I also took this
opportunity to forward several letters to my European friends.
Galton appeared delighted with the prospect of soon returning to
civilized life. Though he had proved himself to be capable of enduring
hardships and fatigue as well as any of us, it was evident that he had
had enough of it.
The schooner was to have sailed on the 5th of January; but, in
consequence of the arrival of “The Grecian” man-of-war, then cruising
off the West Coast, it was postponed till the next day. As the schooner
gradually disappeared from view, I began to feel in full force the
loneliness of my situation, and the loss of my friend’s company. It would
seem that, the farther the object of our esteem and regard is separated
from us, the better we are able to appreciate its value. Galton’s
excellent disposition and even temper had enabled us to struggle through
all difficulties very happily together, and it was, therefore, with
sincere regret that I parted from him. I whispered a prayer for his safe
return to the bosom of his family. It was heard; for, though the passage
proved of long duration, he reached England in safety, after an absence
of two years.
Not long subsequently to his return, the Royal Geographical Society, I
was happy to learn, bestowed upon him their gold medal as a reward for
his services in the cause of science.