AN INVITATION--TERRIFIC STORM--SILENT ELOQUENCE--MOUNTED BUSHMEN--THE
BUSHMAN AS AN ENEMY--A DUTCH HUNTER--GALLANT DEFENCE--A COCKNEY
TRAVELLER--BOER INCREDULITY--BRITISH DISBELIEF--ADVENTURE WITH A
BUSHMAN--AFRICAN RIVERS--CHANGE OF SENTIMENTS.
During another visit of some months at Pietermaritzburg, where I had
some excellent reitbok and ourebi shooting, I accepted an invitation to
a friend's residence near the sources of the Umganie. A night passed
under the canopy of heaven was never to me a matter much to be feared,
if good sport was the result; and these residences on the border of the
game country made very good starting points for two or three days'
roughing it in the open plains. With my two horses and a Kaffir, I
started with a very vague idea as to the position of my friend's
residence. I crossed the Umganie near the falls, and struck off to the
left of the road that leads to Bushman's River, and after riding about
three hours, I made inquiry from some Kaffirs whom I met about the
distance I was to go. Their explanation of distance is by the single
word _hide_; it expresses how long, from a day's journey to a mile, the
_ku_ being dwelt on for about ten seconds, means a long way. When it is
spoken quickly, the place asked for is close; in the present instance,
the _ku--u--u--de_ was expressive of several miles. As it was near
sunset, I asked where the sun would be when I arrived at my destination.
They told me that if I "_cachema_" (rode fast or ran), the sun would
set before I had gone more than so far, pointing to about half of a
stick he held in his hand; this explanation gave me as good an idea of
the distance, as though he had told it me in miles and furlongs. We
pushed on as fast as we could; but as there was no road, and the sun
occasionally hidden by dark clouds, it was difficult to keep exactly the
course, especially as many deep ravines crossed our intended road. As
the sun was going down, there seemed every sign of a severe storm.
Those only who have seen a tropical thunder-storm can judge what a
pleasant prospect there was before us, for an open plain affords a poor
shelter from its violence. As no sign of a habitation appeared on the
line we were pursuing, I struck off to the right, where a kloof a mile
distant offered a prospect of shelter. On reaching it, some large
trees, with the usual creepers spreading over them, made a fairish
shield against the expected pelting shower. I off-saddled the horses,
making them fast to a tree. I sat upon one of the saddles, covered with
a blanket I usually carried under it, and made the Kaffir do the same
with the other. The deep gloom and heavy clouds that had advanced from
the horizon over our heads, and sped along as if by express, caused
darkness in a few minutes. The slight gusts of wind, wild and
unmeaning, rustled the leaves about in an unnatural sort of way, while
little whirlwinds seemed to search out every small track of sand, and
raise it in revolving clouds. The birds flew for shelter in the kloof,
and flitted about from tree to tree, as though anxious and alarmed at
the signs of the coming storm. The horses would not eat the grass that
was almost tickling their noses, but, with one ear forward and the other
back, showed by their restlessness a sense of the approach of the demon
of storm. The storm approached _too_--like a demon. From the deep
black horizon vivid flashes of lightning dashed with uncounted rapidity,
the answering thunder not being in distinct and separate claps, but in
one sullen roar; nearer and nearer it came with giant strides, while
where I sat, all was still quiet, save the slight complaining sound of
an occasional whirlwind among the trees. I could mark the course of the
storm, as it came nearer, as easily as that of a troop of horse. First,
the dust in dense clouds, with leaves and grass, etc., was driven
furiously along; then came the rain (it ought to have had some other
name, it was no more like the thing called rain in England than the
Atlantic is like a pond), its force laid every thing flat before it--the
lightning following with blinding brilliancy. This storm was like a
whole host of common thunderstorms in a fury. The kloof that I was in
offered me no shelter against these torrents, and I was wet to the skin
in about one minute, the water running out of my clothes. I was obliged
to shut my eyes and cover them with my hand, to stop the pain caused by
the dazzling of the pale blue sparks, which flew from one side of the
horizon to the other, and from the heavens to the earth, with messages
that no man could read. The whole thing was like the encounter of a
vast host, one fleeing, the other pursuing--it came and was gone in half
an hour. The moon then appeared with its beautiful silvery light, the
furious hurricane having passed on its course to the vast plains and
mountains of the mysterious interior. Every insect who possessed "a
shrill small horn" now began piping it in rejoicing, the cricket and
beetles making the air vibrate with the sharp note they utter; while on
the plains in front of me, a couple of antelopes walked out to graze,
conscious already that the danger was over. After a severe storm all
the animal creation seem on the move, and, although it was long past the
bed-time of the feathered inhabitants of the ravine, they began hitting
about from tree to tree; while some green parrots that seemed to reside
here, and had been caught in the storm, and therefore obliged to seek
shelter elsewhere, returned in parties of twos and threes, and were then
noisily welcomed by their more fortunate fellows. My Kaffir seemed awed
by the lightning and thunder; he ate a little of his "_muti_" (charmed
medicine) that was round his neck, and sat immovable. When the storm
had passed he looked steadily at me for a few seconds, covering his
mouth with his hand in his usual way, shook his head two or three times,
and shut his eyes. One must have seen his performance to have judged of
his eloquence.
As the night was so brilliant, I determined to push on and try to find
my friend's location, for I was unpleasantly moist, and everything was
so wet that fighting a fire would have been no easy matter. In Africa
we travel by "direction:" "Go out in that direction for two days, and
you will come to my house," is about the amount of information you
frequently get. I knew which way to steer, so pushed straight on in the
hope of seeing some sign of a house. After riding about an hour, I saw
two horsemen going up a hill opposite to me, about half a mile distant;
they were going on slowly, but I could not make them out well, as they
were over the ridge so soon. I galloped on after them, thinking that
they must be some one from my friends, sent out in search of me, but
upon getting on the hill, the horsemen had passed over. I saw them a
few hundred yards in advance, they were looking away from me, and one
was pointing out something to the other. Before I could see well who
they were, my Kaffir came to my side, and exclaimed, _Ma me, ma me!--
bululu bulala!--chingana Bushman_. ("Ma me," is a term of surprise,
"shoot, shoot, rascally Bushman!"). To explain this apparently cruel
proposition, I must state that the Bushmen about here were looked upon
with the most deadly hatred, "every man's hand was against them, and
theirs against every man." They were the farmer's greatest enemies--
wandering from place to place; they had strongholds in the most
inaccessible mountains--active as baboons they retreated to these when
no other place was secure. For days and nights they would watch from
some secret lookout, the cattle or horses of a Boer or Kaffir. Then
having made themselves acquainted with the customs and precautions of
their purposed victims, they at length crept down to the kraal
containing the cattle or horses, took them quietly out early in the
night, and made a rapid retreat before the morning light would enable
the robbed to discover their loss; the Bushmen then being some thirty
miles distant. Pursuit is often impossible, because every horse is
generally taken. Should they be pursued, and see no chance of keeping
the cattle, they will then either hamstring them or stick a poisoned
arrow into them, and thus prevent the farmer from taking advantage of
his speedy pursuit. The Bushman himself being very light, and always
having a good horse, easily gets away. If by chance his horse is shot,
and he reduced to his own legs, he scrambles like a baboon up the rocks
if any are near; if not, he seeks cover behind an ant-hill, or in a
wolf-hole, and prepares his poisoned arrows for defence. Armed with a
quiver full, with five on each side of his head for immediate use, he
cannot be approached with impunity, for at eighty yards the Bushman can
strike a buck while running. Should a man be wounded, then--
"Where it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death."
These ten arrows can be delivered in about twice as many seconds; one
would assume the appearance therefore of a fretful porcupine, should he
venture near these venomous wretches. Forbearance is by the savage,
frequently mistaken for fear, and dog-like he then seeks to worry. Lest
such should be the case with these men, I sent a bullet a few yards over
their heads, and its music was the first intimation they had that their
council of two was interrupted. They stayed not to complain, but lying
flat on their horses' necks, which thus appeared riderless, dashed away
into the blue distance. My Kaffir seemed disappointed at the result; he
kept quiet for some time, and then remarked, "If they had been buck, you
would have hit them,"--it was half an inquiry and half a reproof. He
would neither have understood or appreciated any moral reasoning I could
have given him against taking the life of a fellow creature, however low
in scale of humanity.
The reflection of the moon on some windows directed me to the residence
of my friend, where a blazing fire, a change of clothes, a plentiful
dinner, and a glass of good brandy and water caused a total revolution
in my feelings, and I began to think that happiness was not excluded
from the simple wattle-and-daub hut of the solitary resident of South
Africa.
This settler had been a frequent sufferer from the depredations of
Bushmen, and they had only lately robbed him of horses and cattle. He
now kept a dozen dogs always about his premises; these creatures saluted
any arrival with noise enough to wake the dead. He hinted that, having
found the arm of the law not quite quick or powerful enough to prevent
these robberies, he had taken the liberty of protecting himself, and
following up the thieves rather quickly. On one occasion he _stopped_
four of them from ever repeating their wickedness; how he did this so
effectually, I could but guess. He showed me their bows and arrows, and
I was supposed to infer that he had, by the power of argument, persuaded
them to give up vice, and lead a peaceable life. My friend told me that
elands were sometimes in sight of his house, as well as hartebeest, and
occasionally quaggas; that all the kloofs contained bucks, pheasants,
and guinea-fowl. There was another visitor at the house, a Dutchman, a
relation of my host's wife, with whom I now became a great ally, he
being a thorough sportsman, and having slain every four-footed animal in
Africa. I had frequently heard his name mentioned as a most daring
elephant-hunter, and was delighted in hearing his accounts given in the
plain matter-of-fact way that brought conviction at once. He
acknowledged that he had but little love for Englishmen, and still less
for the English soldier; he gave a very plain reason for his antipathy.
He was used with what he considered great injustice by the government on
the frontier of the colony; appeal after appeal remaining unnoticed. At
last, angry and disgusted, he sold his lands at a great loss, and
started with his wife, children, goods, and cattle to join the emigrant
farmers, who were then settling themselves in the Natal district, at
that time unoccupied by white men. There he thought with the rest that
the laws and regulations of the English would not annoy them, and that
after conquering, with a great sacrifice of life and hard fighting, the
treacherous Zulu chief, Dingaan, they would be allowed to enjoy the
fruits of their victories. Not so, however; a party of English soldiers
shortly came up to Natal, and the officer laid down laws for them all.
_This_ was more than the Dutch could stand. They considered themselves
as an independent colony, and owned no allegiance to Her Majesty. A
fight was the consequence, in which the Boers besieged the English
troops, and were nearly driving them to surrender, when reinforcements
were landed and the Dutch defeated. Most of them "trekked" into the
interior after this, to avoid the English dominion, and amongst them was
the visitor here. He gave me a description of the night attack made by
our troops on the Boers' camp at the Congella, and its disastrous
result, in which about sixteen of our men were killed and thirty
wounded. He stated that, whatever idea our English commander had had,
he never could have surprised the Dutch, as _they_ had Kaffir and
Hottentot spies, who were on the look-out all day and all night; and
before the last ox was inspanned at the guns, the Boers had received
information that the troops were coming to attack them, and had made
their preparations accordingly. The hardships that the troops endured
in the camp, rather than surrender, afford one of the numerous examples
on record of the wonderful gameness and heroism of the English soldier.
Having met with a severe check in the attempted surprise of the Boers'
camp, a little handful of men stood a siege for upwards of a month,
although they were short of provisions, and had but little hope of being
relieved. Had this affair taken place in Europe, each actor in the
scene would have been immortalised for his endurance and gallantry. An
extract from the despatch of the commander will give some idea of the
hardships they underwent:--"Upon inquiring into the state of provisions
this day, I found that only three days' issue of meat remained. I
therefore directed that such horses as were living might be killed, and
made into biltong. We had hitherto been issuing biscuit dust,
alternating with biscuit and rice, at half allowance. The horseflesh,
of which there was but little, we commenced using on the 22nd, and, by a
rigid exactness in the issues, I calculated that we might certainly hold
out, although without meat, for nearly a month longer." The party were
at length rescued by a detachment landed from the _Southampton_ frigate,
who drove the Boers back and eventually made terms with them. The Boer
gave me the whole account in detail, but it might only weary the reader
were I to write it. He praised the courage of the English, but said
that they were not slim (cunning) enough for the Kaffirs and Boers.
The Boers have generally a question to ask, or a story to relate. They
gave me one or two very interesting accounts of the interior, and I was
at last asked to tell an adventure of some kind. I did not think that I
was likely to amuse my hearers much; for if I related some of my African
adventures and experiences they would have thought them as ridiculous as
I did the following. When returning from a rough voyage of
seventy-eight days from the Cape, a custom-house searcher came on board
our ship at Gravesend, and tried to awe us with the dangers that he
there met during a strong easterly wind. "Ah!" said he, "when it blows
hard, the sea gets rather lumpy here, I can tell you!" He was a
cockney, and this had been the limit of his travels.
I had, however, wonderful things to tell, and was obliged to be cautious
how I related them, lest my veracity should be called in question: all
my precautions were, however, useless. A young Boer, totally
illiterate, and more ignorant than the generality of these people, was,
in his own opinion, a very clever, sharp sort of fellow, who could not
easily be imposed upon.
My story was not about herds of antelopes consisting of thousands, of
attacks made on troops of elephants or buffaloes, or of lions carrying
off horses from under the very eyes of their owners. I simply wished to
tell the Boers what sort of a place London was, which I mentioned as
about half its real size, that I might not astonish too much. I gave
them a description of the large shops, and at last tried to describe
Saint Paul's Cathedral. I told them that it was so large that at least
four thousand people could stand at the same time inside the building;
and that it was so high that if your own brother happened to be at the
top, and you at the bottom, you would not be able to recognise him. I
was at once told by the young Dutchman that this could not be true; my
host, however, came to the rescue, and said that he himself had seen the
building, and it was, in reality, even larger than I had stated. The
Dutchman would not have it so, at any price, but asked, with a knowing
look, "if the wind ever blew in my country," or "if it ever rained." I
told him it did both, the latter pretty often. "Then," said he, "that
big place that you have spoken to me about cannot exist; it could not be
built so strong as to stand more than a week; it would be blown down or
washed away. You see that the Deutch mensch (Dutchmen) cannot be
humbugged so easily as you thought." Perfectly satisfied at his
flattering discovery, he walked out of the room and took his place for
the night in his waggon, and I have no doubt communicated to his
admiring Hottentot driver how he had shown the Englishman that he was a
clever fellow.
I have generally found that the most reasonable men are the purely
uncultivated and the most highly educated; the intermediate states
appear to carry out the saying, that "a little knowledge is a dangerous
thing." A very short time ago I met a gentleman who erred much in the
same manner as the Boer. I happened to mention the daring and
perseverance of a celebrated African hunter, and that his sporting
accounts were very interesting, when the gentleman to whom I refer told
me that he had no patience with this hunter. His words were to the
following effect: "I am no sportsman, as I never fired off a gun in my
life, and therefore I cannot judge of his shooting. But I have read his
book, and that story about pulling out the rock-snake carried such an
air of untruth about the whole thing that I never wish to hear more
about him." I asked why a man should not catch hold of a rock-snake if
he liked, and in what was the air of untruth. "Why," he sapiently
remarked, "it would have stung him to death at once." I immediately
withdrew from the argument, but could not help thinking that this
gentleman ought never again to be able to look a rock-snake, or any
other of the boa species, in the face. The boa has many faults, but to
accuse him of possessing poison, which I presume the gentleman meant
when he said "sting," is really too bad. Had this snake's ghost known
of the accusation that was brought against his whole species, and
possessed one-half the wisdom that is attributed to the serpent, he
would have risen, and hissed an angry hiss against so barefaced a libel.
A man who enacts the part of a critic ought at least to know something
of the subject on which he was speaking, and in this case should
certainly have been aware that snakes are not rigged with a sting in
their tails, like wasps, that none of the rock-snakes or
boa-constrictors are poisonous, and that, as a rule, few snakes over
eight or ten feet in length have the venom fangs. The want of knowledge
neither prevented the Dutchman in Africa from disbelieving the existence
of a building like Saint Paul's, nor the Englishman in England from
casting disbelief on the mode of killing a snake in Africa.
One evening I had strolled to a kloof about three miles from my friend's
house, to make a sketch and shoot a guinea-fowl. I walked quietly up
the kloof, and sat down amongst some thick underwood, where I could just
get a peep at the mountains which I wanted to draw. I selected a good
concealed situation, as my bush habits had become so much like nature
that I should have considered it throwing away a chance of a shot at
something if I had sat out in the open. I had succeeded in putting down
the view on paper, and was finishing its details, when I heard a little
tap on a tree near me; I looked up, and on the stem, some fifteen feet
high, I saw the arrow of a Bushman, still quivering in the bark. I drew
back quietly, and cocked my gun by the "artful dodge;" not doubting that
these rascals had seen me enter the ravine, and were now trying to pink
me with their arrows. I waited anxiously for some minutes, and then saw
a Bushman come over the rise, and look about. I knew at once that he
must be unconscious of my presence or he would never have thus shown in
the open; he turned round, and seemed to be taking the line which his
arrow had travelled. As he did so, I saw a rock rabbit (the _hyrax_)
hanging behind him, and then knew that he was after these animals, and
probably in shooting at one had sent his arrow into the tree near me.
I did not move, as my shelter was so good that even a Bushman's eye
would with difficulty see me. He looked about him, and seeing his arrow
in the tree, he picked up some stones, threw two or three at it and
brought it down; he then walked quietly away over the ridge.
I slipped down the kloof and made the best of my way home, to give my
host a caution about his cattle and my horses; as these determined
robbers were most dangerous neighbours.
We were not however disturbed. At about nine o'clock in the evening we
could see a fire shining from a neighbouring mountain, and we supposed
that the Bushmen were having a feast of grilled hyrax for their supper.
It was proposed that we should go out and attack the party, but there
being no seconder to the proposition, it fell to the ground. My horses
after four or five days began to look rather low in flesh; so I bid my
host farewell and returned to Pietermaritzburg. On nearing the Umganie
drift, I found the river swollen into a complete torrent, occasioned by
some heavy showers and storms that had fallen up the country. The
rivers of Africa are never to be trusted, for a traveller may pass with
dry feet over the bed of a river in the morning, and on returning in the
evening find a roaring torrent across his path.
Feeling indisposed for a swim, I accepted the offer of a shake-down at
the house of a Dutchman, a mile or so from the river. He was a very
good sort of fellow, but given to grumble. He was in low spirits when I
first saw him, as all his cattle had disappeared and he was fearful the
Bushmen had carried them off. Upon discovering his loss he at once sent
in to the magistrate of the Kaffirs at Pietermaritzburg, who sent a
party out in search of the lost herds. The cattle were soon found, as
they had only strayed some few miles, attracted by sweet grass. We were
sitting at dinner, zee-koe pork (hippopotamus flesh) and tough pudding
being the bill of fare; when the Dutchman suddenly jumped up, and
exclaimed, "Now I will say the government is good." I looked round and
saw that this remark was brought forth by his seeing all his cattle
returning under the escort of the police, every head being safe and
sound. The man who ought to have watched the cattle while they were
grazing had fallen asleep; they walked away, the man awoke, and not
seeing them, at once reported to his master that the Bushmen had carried
them all off.
The river decreasing during the night, I returned to Pietermaritzburg on
the next day.