Leave the Orange River.—Arrival at Komaggas.—Gardening and
Agriculture.—The Author starts alone for the Cape.—Colony
Horses.—Enmity of the Boers to “Britishers.”—Dutch
Salutation.—The Author must have been at Timbuctoo, whether or
no.—He arrives at Cape-Town.—Cuts a sorry figure.—Is run away
with.—A Feast of Oranges.—Ghost Stories.—Cattle Auction.—Hans
and John Allen proceed to Australia.—Preparations for Journey
to the Ngami.—Departure from the Cape.
On the 25th of August we left the inhospitable banks of the Orange
River. After rather more than a week’s slow travel through dreary and
uninteresting tracts of land, covered by a deep, yielding sandy soil,
bearing a dwarfish vegetation, we arrived at Komaggas, also a Rhenish
missionary station. The Rev. Mr. Weich now officiated here.[67] The
congregation consists of a promiscuous collection of Hottentots and the
offspring of other dark-colored natives.
Komaggas is picturesquely situated, and well supplied with water.
Gardening is brought almost to perfection; and, notwithstanding the
dryness of the atmosphere, corn is cultivated with success in the
neighborhood. Indeed, the best wheat in the west part of the colony, I
am informed, is grown here; but its cultivation is attended with much
labor, since it can only be raised on the summit of hills (which retain
moisture longer than the lowlands) rising not unfrequently several
thousand feet above the sea.
Except at the station and one or two other spots, the extensive grounds
are scantily watered and ill adapted for grazing. During our visit,
numbers of cattle were dying from starvation. The region is, moreover,
in some seasons infected by diseases fatal to beasts of pasture, and
these maladies, of late years, have been of so destructive a character
as nearly to exterminate the cattle. Indeed, many of the Bastards and
Hottentots, who chiefly inhabit these parts, and who were formerly living
in great abundance, are reduced to beggary from this cause.
I now determined to leave Hans, and proceed in advance to Cape-Town,
with a view of making arrangements about the sale of the cattle and the
intended expedition to the Ngami. As we were now in a locality where
horses might be obtained, I procured three or four of these animals
without delay, partly for cash and partly for cattle. The rate of
exchange was from five to ten oxen, according to the qualities of the
horse; or, if money, 100 rix doll. (£7.10). A first-rate hack might
be purchased for £10, though, of course, high-bred horses were more
expensive.
The Cape Colony horse is a wonderful beast. He is supposed to be of
Spanish descent, but of late years has been much crossed by various
breeds. Without any pretension to beauty, he is, perhaps, unrivaled in
docility, hardiness, and endurance. In eight days (one of which was
devoted to rest) I rode, accompanied by a Hottentot servant, from near
Komaggas to Cape-Town, a distance of upward of four hundred miles by
road, thus averaging fifty miles per day. On an after occasion I remember
to have performed upward of ninety miles at a very great pace, only once
or twice removing the saddle for a few minutes. And be it borne in mind
that the animals were young, indifferently broken-in, unshod, and had
never been stall-fed.
A most striking instance of the extraordinary endurance of Colony horses
occurred a few years ago in Great Namaqua-land. The animal in question
belonged to a son of the Hottentot chief Zwartbooi, who one day, while
hunting in an open tract of country, fell in with a troop of eleven
giraffes, to which he immediately gave chase, and the whole of which he
rode down and shot in succession. But the immense exertion was too much
for the gallant creature, whose life was thus sacrificed.
This remarkable horse was well known throughout Great Namaqua-land, and
is said to have been quite mad with excitement when he observed a wild
animal. He only ceased to pursue when the game was either killed or no
longer in sight.
The Colony horses, with a little training, answer admirably for either
hunting or shooting. They may be taught to remain stationary for hours
together by merely turning the bridle over their heads, resting the
extremities of the reins on the ground. They seldom trot; the usual pace
is a canter, and occasionally an amble.
So much has already been said and written on the Cape Colony, its
sturdy Boers, its soil, its productions, and so forth, that it would be
superfluous to add any thing farther. Suffice it to mention a few of the
most remarkable incidents of my journey.
Soon after leaving Komaggas, my horse—a young half-trained stallion which
had only been ridden thrice—shied, and, rearing on his hind legs, came to
the ground on his back with sudden violence. Providentially, the soil was
soft and yielding, and although I sustained his whole weight for a few
seconds, I escaped with no worse consequence than a tight squeezing.
After leaving Komaggas the homesteads of the Boer became daily more
numerous. Riding up one morning to a house, with a view of obtaining
some bread and flour, I was greeted with the following civil address:
“Daar komt weder die verdoomde Engelsman;” that is, “There comes again
the cursed Englishman.” Though I had heard much of the aversion these men
entertain for all that is British, and their coarse language in general,
I certainly had not expected that they would have carried their animosity
so far. Walking straight up to the individual that had thus accosted
me, I said, in as good Dutch as I could muster, “My good friend, in my
country, when a stranger does us the honor to pay us a visit, before even
asking his errand or his name, much less abusing him, we invite him to
our table; and, when he has quenched his thirst and satisfied his hunger,
we may probably inquire whence he comes or where he goes;” and with this
I leaped into the saddle. The fellow clearly felt the rebuke, for, on
turning my horse’s head away, he endeavored to persuade me to stop; but
his rude salutation had quite spoiled my appetite.
As a rule, however, though frequently coarse and abrupt in their language
and conversation, they are undeniably hospitable; and when a person
can converse with them in their own language, and accommodate himself
to their manners and peculiarities, they are excellent fellows, as I
have often experienced. To several of their customs, nevertheless, the
stranger will find some difficulty in reconciling himself.
In these localities, on meeting a wayfaring man, the Dutch Boer
invariably thus accosts him: “Good-day! Where do you come from? Where are
you going? Are you married? How many children have you?” and so forth.
If you should be so unfortunate as not to have entered into the marriage
state, he is astonished beyond measure, and looks upon you with something
like contempt.
Like most people who are novices in a foreign language, I committed at
first sad mistakes, and many a joke and laugh originated at my expense.
Once, indeed, my awkwardness cost me the loss of a supper, of which I
stood greatly in need, having ridden some fifty miles in the course of
the day without tasting food of any description. In the Dutch language,
“danken” signifies a direct refusal; but, not being aware of this, I
interpreted it in the very reverse sense, as meaning, “If you please.”
As often, therefore, as I repeated the ominous word, so often had I the
mortification of seeing the smoking dishes pass by me!
Refreshing myself one afternoon at a comfortable farmhouse, the worthy
host inquired whence and how far I had journeyed. Having made a rough
calculation in my own mind, I told him the approximate distance. No
sooner had I done so than he clasped his hands together, and, turning
to his wife, exclaimed, in the utmost amazement, “Gracious heavens! the
man has been in Timbuctoo!” “No, my good friend, not quite so far,”
I remarked. But he became too much absorbed in the novel idea, and,
without attending to me, he went on to say, “Yes, indeed, the man has
been at Timbuctoo.” I again took the liberty to remonstrate, when his
brother, who was also present, ejaculated, “Yes, brother, you are right.
Timbuctoo! ah! eh? yes! Let me see, Timbuctoo. Ah! I remember to have
read that it is situated at the end of Africa, in a place where you
can see nothing but sand.” Once more I attempted to explain, but to no
purpose. Right or wrong, I must have been at Timbuctoo. I secretly wished
I had been there.
Finding they apparently knew more about my travels than I did, I left
them to themselves to discuss the merit of the journey, and, diving into
the eatables which had been liberally spread before me, I did ample
justice to their hospitality.
On the 22d of September I reached Cape-Town, where my appearance afforded
no little delight and amusement to the mob, who shouted merrily after
me, “Look at the jockey! ha! ha! ha!” My dress was certainly highly
picturesque. An old English hunting-cap—a present from a friend—adorned
my head. The striped jacket that I wore, now well bleached with sun and
rain, had shrunk to such a degree as to reach only a few inches down my
back; and as for sleeves, they just covered the elbows, the rest having
been left on the “Wacht-een-bigte” bushes. My nether garments, consisting
of a pair of moleskin trowsers, were on a par with my jacket, for they
hardly reached to the calf of my leg; and, to complete the “turn-out,”
my “veld” shoes were of untanned leather, and so sunburnt as to resemble
bricks. And as Cape-Town at that time could boast of no “Moses and Son,”
or “Silver and Co.,” it was only by degrees, and exploring the different
shops, that I was able to remodel my dress.
I lost no time in advertising our cattle; and, having secured a good
auctioneer and made some other arrangements, I again set off to join my
party.
Just as I left Cape-Town, my horse, which was excessively shy, took
fright, and started off at a rate which would have “taken the shine” out
of even John Gilpin’s runaway steed. In the attempt to stop him, the bit
(a very substantial one) broke, and in an instant I was at the animal’s
mercy. Finding myself in an awkward predicament, and being desirous to
shorten the race as much as possible, I unhesitatingly gave him both
spur and whip, and, as a consequence, ditches, walls, and fences were
leaped and passed at a fearful rate, to the great danger of myself and
those I encountered. I do not profess to be skilled in horsemanship, my
experience as an equestrian being very small. It was, therefore, as much
as I could do to keep my seat. Nevertheless, I had the good fortune to
escape unhurt, for after a while my steed became exhausted, and pulled up
of his own accord.
I found Hans in good health. The Dutch Boers had once or twice behaved
rudely, but the Dane’s herculean appearance and independent manner
quickly cooled their ire, and he was allowed to pass unmolested. He told
his adventures with graphic effect and racy humor.
Oranges, which are very abundant in these parts, were beginning to ripen.
One day some of our Damaras expressed a wish to taste the enticing fruit,
and, being supplied with a shilling, they started off. In a short time
they brought back no less than two hundred oranges. They had scarcely
finished a dozen or two, however, before the effect became irresistible.
The acidity of the fruit at this time of the year was so great that it
acted with the force of gun-cotton; and, after having a “good blow-out,”
they were so disordered as to be unable to taste food for several
successive days. Indeed, they were effectually cured of their orange
mania.
At the bivouac fire I was often entertained with ghost-stories. John, our
wagon-driver, who seemed fully to believe in apparitions, was the chief
narrator.
“Ghosts,” said he, “abound in and about the neighborhood of the Cape.
At times they appear in the shape of dogs; at others, in that of human
beings. Once, late at night, I was coming from Simon’s Bay, when the oxen
all of a sudden stopped short, and would have darted right into the bush
had I not been quick to turn them. Just then, nothing could be seen; but
presently a large white dog, with a chain round the neck, appeared. He
passed us slowly without injuring us in any way, and shaped his course
over a cross-road, when we continued our journey. At another time I met
the “spook” (ghost) in the form of a very tall black man, accompanied by
a large dog of the same color.
“Frequently, when returning late at night to my master’s place, while yet
at a distance, I have seen the whole yard and dwelling-house splendidly
illuminated, but on coming to the spot all was gone.
“As a protection to the garden, my master had erected a hut, where men
slept at night. After a while, however, the place became so haunted
that the watchmen fled, and slept any where they could in the bush.
The ‘spooks’ were seen continually to promenade up and down the walks
arm-in-arm, taking an occasional peep into the house.
“In dark nights a ghost would sometimes appear at the head of the team,
and, laying hold of the thong attached to the leading ox, would conduct
the cattle out of their proper course, I being totally unconscious of the
proceedings at the time.
“Again, I would hear wagons and carriages coming along the road at a
brisk pace, and, while making way for them to pass, I found, to my
astonishment, that the vehicles were already far ahead of us.”
On the 18th of October, and when within a day’s ride of Cape-Town, we
disposed of our cattle by public auction.
Owing to the great distance we had brought them, and the scarcity of
pasturage during the latter part of the journey, our cattle had become
very lean, and, although they were in themselves an exceedingly fine
lot, their want of condition neither suited the butcher nor the grazier.
In their emaciated state, indeed, it would require fully a year before
they would become acclimatized and refattened, in which interval, and
before getting accustomed to their new pasturage, many would probably
die. They scarcely averaged £2 per head. The cows sold almost the best;
not on account of the milk they yielded, for that was little or nothing,
but simply because, strange to say, they were exempted from a peculiar
disease (_strangury_) which kills the oxen in these parts. The Boers are
in consequence obliged to make use of cows for agricultural purposes.
It is customary on these occasions to give a banquet to the purchasers,
who chiefly consist of Dutch farmers; and if the cattle are known to be
fit for slaughter, the butchers of the metropolis also come in for a
share. A large quantity of wine is supposed to be necessary to facilitate
the sale. Fortunately, this kind of liquor is very cheap; and though a
person may have to entertain from fifty to one hundred people for two
days together, the expense of such festivities rarely exceeds seven or
eight pounds sterling.
Our hands being now free, the first object to which we turned our
attention was to secure a vessel to carry us back to Walfisch Bay. There
happened just then to be none at the Cape but we were promised one within
a certain period. In the mean time, we occupied ourselves in making the
needful purchases, &c.
I also made excursions into the neighborhood. Among other interesting
places, I visited, in company with Mr. Bain (the distinguished South
African geologist), the famous pass, called after my kind host, Bain’s
Kloof, through which the road leads across the Drakenstein mountains from
the village of Wellington to the district of Worcestershire. The vignette
below is a view of a certain part of the pass designated Dacre’s pulpit,
and has been selected from the portfolio of an accomplished friend in
Cape-Town.
[Illustration: DACRE’S PULPIT.]
We had nearly finished our arrangements when the news arrived at the Cape
of the extraordinary successes met with at the Australian gold-diggings,
and the same mania, though not quite to the same extent, which had turned
the people’s heads all over the world, took possession of the inhabitants
of this colony. Every available vessel was bought up or chartered for the
“diggings.” I began seriously to apprehend that this would deprive us of
the craft we had engaged. Indeed, the owner did actually sell her, but,
fortunately, placed another at our disposal, the alteration, however,
causing us very great delay.
Though the loss, at this period, of the assistance of Hans would have
been grievous and irreparable, I thought it my duty to explain to him the
respective advantages of remaining with me and going to Australia. By
adhering to the trading, he would be pretty sure to secure a fair income
annually, while by adopting the other plan he might have the chance of
realizing a fortune in the course of a year or two. I urged that if he
felt at all inclined to try his luck at the “diggings,” he should not
hesitate; for, in that case, I would take charge of his goods and dispose
of them as if they were my own. Hans evidently appreciated my well-meant
intentions, but generously refused to do any thing that was not in strict
accordance with my own wishes. However, I could not take advantage of
such an offer in his position, but told him to think the matter well over
by himself, and to be entirely guided by his own inclination.
After much hesitation, Hans finally came to the determination to migrate
to Australia, and John Allen having also expressed a wish to accompany
him, I drew up an agreement between them of such a nature that they might
dissolve partnership if they wished, without detriment to either. With
regard to myself and Hans, we agreed to share each other’s fortunes,
though far apart, bad or good.
Matters having been thus far settled, I immediately arranged about the
passage of the two adventurers; provided them with a supply of every
article necessary for such an expedition, and nearly one hundred pounds
sterling in ready money. This change in our original plans proved
of great inconvenience to me, inasmuch as we had already sunk every
available shilling of our small capital in the intended expedition to
Walfisch Bay. However, it was all successfully arranged, and in the early
part of January, 1853, they took their departure.
Thus once more I was alone. I could not help reflecting on the
difficulties of my position. Two of the best men that, perhaps, ever set
foot on African soil, with whom I had shared hardships and privations
of no trifling character, had left me to seek their fortunes in remote
climes. On me alone, then, devolved the task of watching over and
improving the united interest of myself and Hans. Another duty, not
less urgent, claimed my attention, namely, that of solving the grand
geographical problem—the discovery of a route from the west coast to the
Lake Ngami.
On mentioning my trying position to some Cape friends, they coolly
advised me to dispose of my goods and return to Europe. I turned in
disgust from the proposal, which only served to urge me to renewed
exertions. My spirits rose in proportion to the difficulties.
Immediately on the departure of Hans and John Allen, I hastened to attend
to my own affairs. I was tolerably well supplied with every thing but
servants and instruments for taking astronomical observations. After much
search and many bargains, I succeeded in getting together a very fair set
of the latter, consisting of a large, good-working sextant, a box-sextant
for taking angular bearings, two artificial horizons (one of colored
plate-glass mounted in brass, with leveling screws, and another for
mercury), an excellent azimuth compass, one or two good pocket-compasses,
three boiling-point thermometers for ascertaining heights of places above
the level of the sea, two telescopes, one for common field-work, and
the other large enough for occultations, a chronometer watch, and two
ordinary watches. Mr. Maclear, the royal astronomer at the Cape, kindly
assisted me in selecting most of the above instruments. He, moreover,
took a great deal of pains in adjusting them, and showing me their use,
though I fear I almost wore out his patience, for I was excessively
stupid in this respect. But I trust the result has proved that his labor
was not altogether thrown away.
Shortly after our arrival at the Cape I had been fortunate enough in
securing the services of an old acquaintance, Timbo, who had safely
returned from St. Helena, where he left Mr. Galton. He proved invaluable
to me. To his charge my dogs and native servants were confided, and they
throve wonderfully under his management.
I had intended to send two or three Damaras with Hans to Australia; but
one day, previous to his departure, they came to me in great tribulation,
and said they did not want to go any farther, but wished to return with
me to their own land. If such was really their intention, it became my
duty to gratify them; but I could not help feeling a little vexed, for,
since no one but Timbo could speak their language, I strongly suspected
that he had influenced their decision. With a view of ascertaining the
fact, I called him, and told him my opinion; but he stoutly denied the
charge, adding, “Suppose, master, me was to take a horse from the stable
in the Kaap to Wynberg, or to any other strange place, and then leave him
to himself, surely he would return whence he came; and so it is with the
natives.” I was struck with the sagacity of the remark, and said no more
about the matter.
Timbo had procured a passage from St. Helena in the _Birkenhead_
man-of-war, and on the voyage he got acquainted with an English lad,
George Bonfield, aged sixteen. A mutual attachment sprung up between
the shrewd Ethiopian and the youthful Saxon, and in a short time the
former was the means of indirectly saving the life of the latter. On the
arrival of the vessel at the Cape, the boy requested permission to land,
in order to enjoy the society of his swarthy friend. This was granted, on
condition that he should rejoin the vessel at Simon’s Bay.
While doubling the southern extremity of Africa, the unfortunate
_Birkenhead_ struck, and, as is well known, was totally lost, with almost
all hands on board.
Timbo took every care of the boy, whose life had thus been saved. He
put him to school, and afterward secured him a berth with a tradesman
in Cape-Town. Finding that the youth was anxious to see something more
of the world, and to add to his store of knowledge, I took him into my
employ. He accompanied me to the Great Lake, and when, in the course
of the journey, I became ill, and crippled by wounds inflicted by wild
animals, his presence and tender care greatly relieved and soothed my
sufferings.
On Timbo’s recommendation, and from possessing a smattering of
Portuguese, I engaged a Mozambique liberated slave of the name of Louis;
but he turned out the filthiest, laziest, most sensual, and most useless
man I ever came across. Just as I was about to engage him, he said, “Of
course, master give me my washing and ironing.” “My good fellow,” I
replied, “has Timbo not explained to you the sort of country we are going
to? You must thank your stars if you get water enough to wash your face,
much less your clothes. And, if you happen to get a sufficiency for the
latter purpose, you will certainly have to cleanse your own garments.
In the wilderness, according to an old saying, ‘every man is his own
washerwoman.’”
A young Hottentot, whom I engaged as wagon-driver for the journey, ran
into debt, and shuffled his cards so cleverly that I did not become
aware of the circumstance until the day fixed for our departure, when
there was, of course, no time to look for another driver, and I had no
alternative left but to pay his liabilities.
The last of my servants, also a Hottentot and a wagon-driver, known as
“old Piet,” was, however, a most excellent and well-behaved man. He had
been, it is true, in the habit of getting drunk, but, once out of the
Cape, he proved himself a hard-working, honest, and faithful fellow, and
has never since left my service.
Finding that a Mr. Reid, whose acquaintance I had made in Great
Namaqua-land, and who had been very kind and attentive to me when I was
laid up by fever, was about to undertake a trading excursion to Walfisch
Bay, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity thus afforded of dividing
between us the expenses of a vessel; a considerable sum was accordingly
saved to me.
[Illustration: NEGRO-BOY.[68]]
At last, after many difficulties and delays, we were ready; and on the
sixteenth of January, having embarked in the schooner _Flying Fish_, we
unfurled our sails and bade farewell to Cape-Town, where, during a second
stay, I enjoyed much kindness and hospitality.