The Ngami.—When discovered.—Its various Names.—Its Size and
Form.—Great Changes in its Waters.—Singular Phenomenon.—The
Teoge River.—The Zouga River.—The Mukuru-Mukovanja
River.—Animals.—Birds.—Crocodiles.—Serpents.—Fish.
At an early period of the present century rumors had reached Europeans of
a vast lake in the interior of South Africa, but for a very long time its
existence continued to be involved in mystery, and travelers and hunters
were unavailingly expending their resources and energies to solve the
grand problem.
The cause of all these failures was chiefly to be found in the desert and
inhospitable regions which lie between the explorers and the supposed
lake, commonly known as the Kalahari desert. Toward the close of 1849,
however, and when the hope of our being able to overcome this apparently
insurmountable barrier was almost extinguished, the great object was
accomplished by the persevering exertions of Messrs. Oswell, Livingstone,
and Murray, and the existence was made known of a fine fresh-water lake
in the centre of South Africa.
This important and highly interesting discovery at once opened a new and
extensive field for the inquiries of the geographer and the naturalist,
and gave a fresh impulse, to the enterprising and speculating spirit of
the colonists of Southern Africa. The lake was described as a magnificent
sheet of water, abounding in fish and hippopotami, and the country around
as well stocked with elephants and other large game, while the vegetation
was said to be on the most luxuriant scale. The discovery excited very
considerable interest.
The Lake goes with the natives by different names—all of which are more
or less appropriate—such as _Inghàbé_ (the giraffe); _Noka ea Botlètle_
(lake of the Botletle); _Noka ea Mokoròn_ (lake of boats); and _Ngami_,
or The Waters. As the last designation is the one by which the Lake is
best known to Europeans, I will retain it throughout the remainder of
this narrative.
As before said, on taking a nearer survey of the Lake, I experienced
some disappointment as to its attractions. It is, however, indisputably
a fine sheet of water, but in size is somewhat overrated, the estimation
of its length alone being at one time considered no less than one hundred
miles, and the width about fifteen or sixteen. The misconception may
thus, perhaps, be accounted for. In the first instance, no person, to
the best of my belief, has ever yet been quite round it; secondly, the
shores—with the exception of the south and west sides—are low and sandy,
and in hazy weather can not easily be distinguished; and, lastly, I
am inclined to think that the discoverers mistook its length for its
breadth, for, according to Cooly, “The travelers beheld with delight the
fine river, and the Lake extending out of sight to the north and west.”
Again, my friend Mr. Frederick Green, who visited the Lake shortly after
its discovery, thus states, in his manuscript journal, the impression he
experienced on first viewing it.
“The day after reaching the town of Batoani, we took a ride to view the
Lake. From the southern side, we could trace the opposite shore some ten
or twelve miles, but beyond that distance, and to the westward, we could
not, even with the aid of a telescope, discern any sign of land—only
a blue horizon of water. In a subsequent journey, however, and when
traveling along its southern shores, I found that the opposite strand
could always be seen. When first viewing it, we were not, as we then
thought, looking across, but _lengthwise_.”
The whole circumference is probably about sixty or seventy geographical
miles; its average breadth is seven miles, and not exceeding nine at its
widest parts. Its shape, moreover, is narrow in the middle and bulging
out at the two ends; and I may add, that the first reports received
many years ago from the natives about the Lake, and which concurred in
representing it of the shape of a pair of spectacles, are correct.
The northern shore of Ngami is low and sandy, without a tree or bush,
or any other kind of vegetation within half a mile, and more commonly a
mile. Beyond this distance (almost all round the lake) the country is
very thickly wooded with various sorts of acacia indigenous to Southern
Africa, the Damara “parent tree,” a few species of wild fruit-trees, and
here and there an occasional baobob, which raises its enormous head high
above the highest giant of the forest. The southern coast of the Lake is
considerably elevated, and the water is so closely fringed by extensive
belts of reeds and rushes that it is only accessible in a few places, or
where the native cattle have broken through these natural defenses. The
west shore of the Lake is also somewhat raised, though the water is very
shallow; but it deepens considerably toward its eastern extremity.
The Ngami must have undergone very considerable changes at different
periods. The natives have frequently pointed out to me places, now
covered with vegetation, where they used to spear the hippopotamus.
Again, there are unmistakable proofs of its having been at one time of
smaller dimensions than at present, for submerged stumps of trees are
constantly met with. This is not, I believe, to be attributed to the
upheaving or to the sinking of the land, but that, in all probability,
the Lake was originally of its present size, or nearly so, when a sudden
and unusually large flood poured into it from the interior, which, on
account of the flatness of the country, could not be drained off as
quickly as it flowed in, but caused the water to rise above its usual
height, which, remaining in that state some time, soon destroyed the
vegetation.
Before the Lake was known, and when only rumors had reached us of its
existence, the natives spoke of its waters as retiring daily to “feed.”
But I am rather inclined to think they pointed to a singular phenomenon
that I observed when navigating its broad waters, which I then attributed
to the wind, though, on consideration, I suspect it was more likely to
have arisen from the effects of the moon’s attraction.
When navigating the Lake, we were in the habit of landing every night
to bivouac, always taking the precaution to unload the most important
articles of our baggage. The canoes were then pushed in shore as far
as the shallowness of the water would permit, and left to themselves,
perhaps, as far as two hundred yards from _terra firma_. On remonstrating
with the boatmen for not better securing our little flotilla, they
replied that any further precautions were unnecessary, inasmuch as the
water (which had already begun to ebb) would shortly recede and leave the
canoes dry on the beach. I felt skeptical, but, nevertheless, allowed
them to have their own way. In the course of the night it fell calm (a
fresh breeze had been blowing during the day), and next morning we found
that what the boatmen had predicted was fulfilled; the canoes were as far
from the water as, on the preceding evening, they had been from the shore.
From the time that the wind fell the water began slowly to return, and
about nine o’clock in the morning it was at its usual height, and the
canoes floated once more without any effort on our side.
The Lake is fed by the Teoge at its northwest extremity. The river
never, perhaps, much exceeds forty yards; but it is deep, and, when
at its greatest height, contains a large volume of water. Its annual
overflow takes place in June, July, and August, and sometimes even later.
The source of the Teoge is as yet unknown, but is supposed to be very
distant. It may probably have its rise on the same high table-land as the
Quanza, and other streams of importance. The main course of the Teoge is
northwest, but it is so serpentine that, in thirteen days when I ascended
it, traveling on an average five miles per day, and reckoning two and a
quarter miles to the hour, I only made about one degree of latitude due
north of the Lake. As far as I proceeded, however, it was navigable with
smaller craft; for only in three places that I can remember did I find
less than five feet of water, and, generally speaking, the depth was
considerable. It must be recollected, however, that it was then at its
greatest height.
Though that portion of the Teoge ascended by me is narrow, I am told
that, on approaching its source, it widens considerably (one of the many
curious points in African geography); and the country on both sides is
often inundated to a very great extent, frequently having the appearance
of an endless lake, thickly overgrown with reeds and rushes, and dotted
with islets covered with beautiful trees and shrubs.
At its eastern extremity the Ngami finds an outlet (the only one) in
the fine and stately Zouga. This river, near to Batoana-town, where
it escapes from the Lake, is about two hundred yards wide, and, from
its gentle flow, appears at rest, the motion of the stream being
imperceptible to the eye. Indeed, it is asserted by some—and should it
be found correct, it certainly would be a most extraordinary fact—that
the waters of the Zouga are, at one time of the year, forced back into
the Lake by a branch of the Teoge, which river thus not only feeds the
Lake at its northwest extremity, as has been already stated, but at the
east as well. From the very imperfect development of the water-courses in
these parts, I do not think this impossible.
The Zouga continues to run in an easterly direction from the Lake for
nearly a month’s journey, or a distance of about three hundred miles,
taking all the windings into account, when it is lost in an immense marsh
or sand-flat,[84] called, by some, Great Reed Vley. It is a perfect sea
of reeds (with occasional openings), and affords a favorite resort to
innumerable herds of buffaloes.
About twenty miles before the Zouga ceases to flow it expands into a lake
from two to four miles broad, and about twelve or fifteen in extent.
During the dry season this river presents “a series of pools with dry
spaces between.”
The vegetation all along its course is varied and luxuriant, and in
some places the scenery is quite charming, the banks of the river being
often, to the very water’s edge, covered with majestic trees of beautiful
and dense foliage. The baobob is particularly conspicuous, attaining,
not unfrequently, round its stem, a girth of from sixty to seventy-five
feet. “The banks,” says Mr. Livingstone, in a letter to a friend, “are
beautiful beyond any we had ever seen, except, perhaps, some parts of the
Clyde.... The higher we ascended the river the broader it became, until
we often saw more than one hundred yards of clear deep water between the
broad belt of reed which grows in the shallower parts.... One remarkable
feature in this river is its periodical rise and fall. It has risen
nearly three feet since our arrival; and this is the dry season. That the
rise is not caused by rains is evident from the water being so pure. Its
purity and softness increased as we ascended toward its junction with the
Tamanakle, from which, although connected with the lake, it derives its
present increased supply. The people could give no reason for the rise of
the water further than that a chief, who lives in a part of the country
to the north, called Mazzekiva, kills a man annually and throws his body
into the stream, after which the water begins to flow.”
Before closing my remarks on the rivers of the Lake, I must beg to draw
the attention of the reader to a circumstance which may prove of the most
vital interest to the civilization and commerce of these regions. It is
as follows:
About two days west of the Teoge, two rivers are reported to exist. The
one is a small branch of the Teoge, and is supposed, after meandering
through a desert for a couple of days, to lose itself in a marsh. The
second (and to which I particularly desire to draw notice) is of larger
dimensions, though, near to its source, only periodical. In its course,
however, it is fed by fountains—not an uncommon thing in Africa—and it
soon increases to a constantly running stream. In due time it becomes
a mighty river, flowing slowly through the country of several black
nations, and ultimately discharging itself into the sea. This is the
statement of a party of Griquas who traveled in this direction in search
of elephants. I should, perhaps, have hesitated to give credit to their
account had it not, on more than one occasion, been corroborated. While
on our visit to the Ovambo, we inquired, as mentioned, if they were not
aware of any permanently running river in their neighborhood, to which
they immediately and unhesitatingly replied in the affirmative. “The
Cunenè,” they said, “was only four or five days’ foot-journey distant
from them,” but added “that it was not to be compared with a river called
Mukuru-Mukovanja, that comes out of Ovatjona-land (clearly the Bechuana
country), of which the Cunenè is only a branch.” This valuable and
interesting information was confirmed by the Hill-Damaras.
Again, when Mr. Galton and myself, distant only some eight or ten days’
journey from the Lake, were obliged to retrace our steps on account of
excessive drought, we were informed by the Bushmen of the existence
of a large river to the north, coming from Bechuana-land, and running
westward. They further added that another small river comes from the same
direction, but is soon lost in the sand, or terminates in a marsh. Now,
excepting that the latter is a branch of the Teoge (instead of having its
source in the Lake, in common with the large river, as they asserted),
their account may be said to have been substantiated.
From these statements, the existence of a river, in all probability of
great magnitude, and perhaps navigable to its very source, or nearly so,
is so far authenticated that I have had no hesitation in laying it down
on my map. Assuming that the Teoge and the Mukuru-Mukovanja run parallel,
though in contrary directions, at the distance from each other of two or
three days’ journey, as I was informed by the Griquas above mentioned,
there exists an almost uninterrupted navigation of several hundred miles,
affording a comparatively easy transport to the sea-coast of the produce
of a rich and fertile interior.
A great variety of animals are found in the Lake regions, more especially
in the vicinity of the rivers,[85] such as elephants, rhinoceroses,
buffaloes, giraffes, koodoos, pallahs, &c., as also two new species of
antelopes, the nakong and the leché, both of which are well represented
on the following plate.
The leché bears some resemblance to the pallah, but is altogether
a larger animal. In size, indeed, it almost equals the water-buck
(_aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_), and the horns are very similar to those of
the male of that beast. The general color of the skin is a pale brown;
chest, belly, and orbits, white; and front of legs dark brown. The fur
(which in the young animal is long, soft, and often curly) of the adult
is short and “adpressed.” The upper part of the nape and withers are
provided with a small whorl of hair. The tip of the tail (slender at the
base) is adorned with a tuft of black hair.
The leché is a species of water-buck; for, though not actually living in
water, he is never found any distance from it. When pursued, the leché
unhesitatingly plunges into the water, however deep. Great numbers are
annually destroyed by the Bayeye, who convert their hides into a kind of
rug for sleeping on, carosses, and other articles of wearing apparel.
[Illustration: NAKONG AND LECHÉ.]
To the best of my belief, the nakong has never been described by
naturalists.[86] Unfortunately, the materials I possessed, and which
would, in some degree, have enabled me to supply this deficiency, were
left behind in Africa. Through the kindness of Colonel Steele, an
opportunity has been afforded me of inspecting one or two heads of the
nakong, as also a caross (brought from the Lake Ngami by Mr. Oswell)
made out of pieces of the skins of this animal. But they are all so
imperfect that to attempt any thing like a scientific description would
be ineffectual; the more so, perhaps, as I only once had an opportunity
of viewing a pair of nakongs, and that was at a distance. Suffice it,
therefore, to say, that the general color of the animal is a subdued
brown, darkest on the back, and on the front of head and legs. Beneath
it is of a lighter hue—almost ash-colored. On each side of the rump, as
also on the inside of the legs, if I remember rightly, there is a whitish
line or patch. The hair of the skin, which is much used by the natives
for carosses, is long and coarse. The horns are black, very like those of
the koodoo, and, in the adult animal, would appear to attain to an equal,
if not larger size. Before they are much developed there is scarcely any
indication of spiral turns, and they are then not unlike the horns of
goats.
The nakong is a water-buck. By means of its peculiarly long hoofs (which
are black), not unfrequently attaining a length of six to seven inches,
it is able to traverse with facility the reedy bogs and quagmires with
which the lake country abounds—localities only fit for the feathery
tribe. When at the Ngami I offered very tempting rewards to the natives
if they would bring me this animal either dead or alive; but they
protested that, though they frequently kill the nakong by pitfalls and
spears, it was not then possible to gratify my wishes, as, at that
season, the beast dwelt almost entirely in muddy and watery localities,
where any attempt to follow it would be certain destruction to a man.
Hippopotami abound on the northern side of the Ngami, and more especially
toward its northwest extremity, or to the right of where the Teoge River
enters the lake.
Otters are not uncommon in the rivers and the Lake. They appear to be of
the same species as with us, but present great variety of color. The fur
is good, and much sought after.
If the quadrupeds of the Lake Fauna are numerous and varied, the
_aves_ class is no less rich and abundant. In our first journey
through Damara-land I had made such a complete collection of its birds
and insects that I almost despaired of obtaining any thing new and
interesting; but here I found at once an unexplored and almost unlimited
field for the naturalist. Unfortunately, I was not in a state to be able
to benefit, to any extent, by its abundance and variety, which I regret
exceedingly.
The aquatic birds were particularly numerous and varied. A friend who
visited the Lake assured me that here and on the Zouga he had, at one
time and another, killed specimens of no less than nineteen species
of ducks and geese. One of the latter varieties is not larger than a
common teal, but clothed in the most brilliant plumage. The herons and
water-hens vie with the duck tribe in numbers and gaudiness of plumage.
During a hurried journey up the Teoge, I procured, in a short time,
herons of upward of ten distinct species, besides several different kinds
of storks, cranes, &c.
The Lake and its rivers swarm with crocodiles. During the cold time of
the year they resort to deep water, where they remain in a state of
comparative inactivity; but on the approach of the hot season they again
come forward, and may be seen lying in great numbers along the banks,
basking in the noonday sun, and looking exactly like so many logs of
wood. I have often surprised them in this position; and, if not too
close, they have invariably feigned to be asleep. The instant, however,
that I have raised my gun, or even merely pointed toward them, they have
plunged into the deep like a shot.
They are said occasionally to attain a gigantic size, but no
authenticated instance has come to my knowledge of any specimen being
killed which measured above fifteen or sixteen feet, though I have heard
it asserted that they sometimes reach double that length.
The crocodile chiefly lives on quadrupeds, which he lies in wait for, and
destroys when coming to drink; but he is said never to devour his prey
before the flesh has arrived at a state of putrefaction.
When in its native element, the power of this animal must be enormous;
for if the testimony of the inhabitants is to be relied on, he not
unfrequently succeeds in destroying the buffalo, which they say he
accomplishes by seizing the beast by the muzzle and dragging him into
deep water, where he suffocates him. This being done, he hauls his victim
back to the shore, and, pushing the carcass above water-mark, watches
over it until it has become _nicely_ tainted, when he commences his feast.
From the moist and swampy nature of the ground about the Lake and the
rivers, snakes, as may well be supposed, are numerous; but, though
they at times attain a gigantic size, they appear very harmless, being
often destroyed by the natives, who devour them with great relish. I
never myself saw a specimen exceeding seven or eight feet in length, but
procured skins measuring fully three times that size. The Bushmen assured
me that they not unfrequently surprise these monsters when asleep and
gorged, and that on such occasions it was not unusual to dispatch them
with a blow on the head from the knob-kierie. These snakes feed chiefly
on birds and smaller quadrupeds.
The finny tribe was also pretty numerous; but my stay at the Lake was of
too short a duration to collect much information on this head. I saw and
tasted many different kinds, some of which were most excellent eating,
and had a rich and agreeable flavor. The only ones, however, which I
remember had any likeness to northern fishes were a sort of perch, and
one or two barbel kinds.