having sold himself. Smith acknowledged that he had been deceived, but
he never supposed the ring was worth anything, and was surprised to
find that the stone was genuine.
“Well,” said Jones, “I don’t wish to take any mean advantage of your
stakes; you staked that ring for a hundred dollars, and the jewellers
said it is worth four or five hundred dollars. For a hundred dollars,
the amount of your stake, you can have it back again.”
Smith bit at the offer, paid the hundred dollars, and received the
ring. Jones departed, and did not return. Imagine the disgust of Smith
when he subsequently found out the real state of affairs.
XXVI.
THE DIAMOND FIELDS OF SOUTH AFRICA.
MODE OF REACHING THEM—THEIR EXTENT AND RICHNESS—THE YIELD OF
THE MINES—CHARACTER OF THE AFRICAN DIAMONDS—MODE OF WORKING—THE
NEGROES AND THEIR PECULIARITIES—DU TOIT’S PAN—KIMBERLEY—COLESBERG
KOPJE—LIFE IN THE FIELDS—DUST STORMS AND HEAVY RAINS—A WHIRLWIND
AND ITS EFFECTS—CAUGHT IN A STORM—INDIVIDUAL INSTANCES OF GOOD
LUCK—A DIAMOND ON A BURST.
[Illustration: THE DIAMOND FIELDS OF SOUTH AFRICA.]
The owners of diamonds, and those who buy and sell the gems, were
thrown into great consternation, a few years ago, by the announcement
of the discovery of immense diamond deposits in South Africa. As
usual, when rich deposits of precious stones or precious metals are
known to have been found, there was a great rush for the newly-opened
region. Many persons imagined they had only to land at some point
on the coast of South Africa, and the first touch of the pick or
spade would bring them fortune in the shape of Koh-i-noors by the
thousands. Many of them found their mistake long ago. On the other
hand, many others have been handsomely rewarded for their enterprise
and exertion. The diamond fields of South Africa have created some
large fortunes, and a great many small ones. “Lucky finds” have been
numerous, and the diamonds seem to be pretty well distributed in the
valleys where they exist.
The regular route to the diamond fields is by way of Cape Town,
Cape of Good Hope. Cape Town is an interesting city of about thirty
thousand inhabitants, picturesquely situated on Table Bay. The diamond
fields are about seven hundred miles distant. There are no railways
in that region, and the most rapid conveyance is by the mail-coach,
which makes the journey in about six or seven days. A slower and
cheaper conveyance is by ox or horse teams, generally the former. The
route is not a picturesque one. Those who imagine beautiful valleys,
wide-spreading plains, open prairies thickly covered with luxuriant
grass, with a horizon of rugged mountains, will be disappointed with
the reality. The plains are generally treeless and stony, many of the
hills are barren, and the very settlements along the route are quite
too dirty and dilapidated to be attractive. Several rivers are to be
crossed, some of them very muddy, and some of them abounding with
quicksand.
On some of the plains, the oxen suffer for want of grass and water,
and the cruel beatings they receive from the hands of their Hottentot
drivers are exceedingly disagreeable to sensitive travelers. The
Hottentots carry a whip of Rhinoceros hide, known by the name of
“shambok.” It is quite analagous to the “courbash” of the Egyptians.
It resembles a small, long, flexible cane, and is capable of drawing
blood at every stroke when handled by an artist. From twenty-five to
forty days are consumed in the journey with ox wagons, and when the
traveler reaches his destination, he feels very much as though he had
been run through a cotton-picker.
[Sidenote: DU TOIT’S PAN.]
The diamond fields are first reached at Du Toit’s Pan, and the
traveler suddenly finds himself in the midst of great activity. The
ground is cut and seamed in all directions, and the pits whence the
diamonds are taken, are, in many instances, two hundred feet deep. The
mode of working in these mines is somewhat different from that of gold
mining. In the first place, the white miners are not strictly miners
at all, as they universally employ the natives to do the work, and
their own occupation is simply that of overseer. The natives work for
a sum equal to about five dollars a week and their board. They are of
four different nations, and a miner thus describes them:
[Sidenote: THE NATIVE MINERS.]
“The handsomest and most trustworthy race are the Zulu Caffres of
Natal and Caffraria. The next are the Basutos. Third are the thievish
and drunken Hottentots, and fourth, the Koraunas, small, ugly, and
contemptible beings, despised by all the rest, and of no use to the
diggers, owing to their unconquerable laziness. I always admired a
Zulu. There was one living near our tent, a model for a sculptor.
He would sometimes cross my path, with his long steady strides, his
blanket hanging around him in graceful folds like the toga of a Roman
senator. One hand grasped the robe, and allowed freedom of motion,
while the other would be crossed on his breast. In his woolly locks,
braided and arranged neatly on his head, would appear feathers of
different wild birds, while underneath his massive brow shone a pair
of eyes—coal-black eyes—with such long lashes that they reminded me
of eyes in eastern pictures. A man with such orbs as his could speak
were he deaf and dumb. An aquiline nose, with inflated nostrils,
overshadowed a delicately curved mouth, full of firmness and pride.
Below was the massive chin of statesmen and conquerors. In fact, he
was a model man in ebony.”
The natives will only work a short time. When they have accumulated
a certain amount of money, they purchase arms and ammunition and go
home. They are good-tempered, obedient, and faithful, and do not spend
much money upon dress. Sometimes they get themselves up gorgeously,
and a wardrobe sufficient for an ordinary white man will dress at
least a dozen negroes. One will deck himself with a coat, another with
a hat, another will consider himself finely arrayed in a paper collar,
while a pair Of trousers will be sufficient for two, if properly
divided. An odd boot, shoe, or stocking, or an old shirt that reaches
perhaps as far as the waist, is considered the proper thing for polite
society in negro land.
The discovery of diamonds in South Africa was made in the year 1870.
A traveler through those regions stopped one night at a farm-house,
and found the children playing with some pebbles. One of the
pebbles attracted his attention, and he bought it for a trifle. He
subsequently sold it, at Cape Town, for three thousand dollars. He
bought another from a negro, which he sold for fifty-six thousand
dollars, making a very fair margin of profit on his transaction. When
the natives found these stones were of value, they began to search
for them, and a great many were brought in. Then began the rush for
the diamond fields. Great numbers of people went there from Cape Town,
and as the news spread to England and to other countries, there was
considerable excitement concerning the South African fields. The place
where the diamonds were found is in an extensive district of country
belonging to Dutch farmers.
[Sidenote: GARNET AS AN INDICATOR.]
The surface indication of a diamond mine are numerous garnets, which
are not of any particular value. The general rule is that wherever the
garnet is found, one is pretty certain to find diamonds. At first,
the principal diggings were at a place on the Vaal river, where there
was an abundance of water. The gravel was taken to the river and
washed, and the diamonds were separated from the worthless stones.
Only the earth was allowed to float away, as it was possible that
some large and valuable gems might be carried off with the smaller
stones. When the stones had been separated from the earth, they were
carefully sorted, and in a short time the miners became very expert at
recognizing the gems.
The diamond fields of South Africa, covering an area of perhaps one
thousand square miles, are between longitude 24° and 28° east, and
latitude 27° and 30° south. It is estimated that, down to the end
of 1876, eighty-five million dollars worth of diamonds had been
taken out, and this estimate does not include thousands of stones
that were carried directly to England by their owners, and did not
pass through the market at Cape Town. Diamond owners would have been
ruined completely by the African discoveries, had it not been for the
fact that the great majority of the diamonds found there are of poor
quality. Professor Lenant, who has given considerable attention to
the matter, says that of the Cape diamonds, about ten per cent. may
be classified as first quality, fifteen per cent. of the second, and
twenty-five per cent. of the third. The remainder, under the name
of “bort,” is employed in cutting diamonds and for various other
purposes, by the lapidary, by the engineer in rock drills, for cutting
glass, and similar purposes.
[Sidenote: DIFFICULTIES OF MINING.]
Unfortunately for the miners at the Cape, there is a very short supply
of water. If they could have adopted the system of hydraulic mining to
their work, they would have saved enormous labor and expense. At many
of the fields which are distant from the rivers, the gravel is removed
by means of buckets, drawn up by long ropes, and it very often happens
that a single heavy rain of a few hours, will destroy the entire labor
of months, the pit becomes filled with water, and there will be no way
of extracting it except by evaporation, or by the laborious process of
hoisting or pumping. One of the fields, known as Colesberg Kopje, fell
off, in one year, more than fifty per cent. from the yield of previous
years, in consequence of the heavy caving and floodings caused by the
rains. The value of claims in that region has gradually fallen, and so
desperate is the condition that, at last accounts, money was loaned
upon mining licenses at the rate of ten per cent. a month, with a
foreclosure at the end of the first month if the interest was not paid.
At the diamond camp, the small stones form the basis of value.
They might be used for currency except for one fact. Gold dust, in
California, was used for currency, for a long time. Its value, of
course, is directly proportioned to its weight, a pound nugget being
worth exactly twelve times as much as an ounce nugget of the same
fineness, but the value of diamonds increases with enormous rapidity
as they grow heavier, so they cannot be put in bunch or weighed out
the same as gold. Transactions frequently take place in diamonds, and
the amount of exchange is often very difficult to compute.
The last region of which we have any account is known as Kimberley,
and a city of ten thousand inhabitants, with banks, hotels, churches,
and theaters, has grown up there. In its general features, it is not
unlike a frontier city in California or Colorado, except that its
streets are filled with carts carrying earth away from the diggings,
and with great numbers of negroes who come to work in the mines. The
diamonds are found in a conglomerate which is dug up from the bottom
of what has once been a deep cañon. At Kimberley, the cañon is two
hundred feet deep, and one thousand feet across. When one descends
into this place, it is almost impossible to hear the human voice, on
account of the noise made by the wheels and buckets, and the picks,
shovels, and other tools of the miners. In the early times of the
mining excitement at the Cape, the negroes were reasonably honest, but
association with the white man has made them otherwise. When they can
steal the diamonds they do so. They will secrete them in their ears,
their mouths, or their noses, and a negro has been known to work an
entire day with two or three diamonds concealed between his toes.
[Sidenote: HOW AN ENGLISHMAN LOST A DIAMOND.]
An interesting story is told of how an Englishman lost, one day, a
valuable diamond, through his impetuosity. He had found a very large
and fine stone at the bottom of his pit, and was coming up the ladder,
carrying the diamond in his mouth. A negro happened to shake the top
of the ladder, whereupon the Englishman proceeded to swear at him, as
an Englishman might be expected to do. The result was, the diamond
fell from his mouth down into the pit or into a neighboring one, and
its whereabouts was never discovered by the unlucky finder. We have
heard of mouths that speak pearls, but it is rarely the case that one
hears of a mouth swearing diamonds.
In the early days at the diamond mines, there was a good deal of
rioting and trouble. There was not much observance of law, mainly
for the reason that there was no law. But at present, every thing
is orderly and peaceable. The diamond fields are partly in regions
controlled by the British government, and partly in the Republic
of the Orange Free States. The latter country became known to many
Americans through the Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia, in
1876. It had a small display, but a very attractive one. First and
foremost, of course, were the diamonds in the rough, which included
many specimens of stones, varying in color and size. Then came a
quantity of the soil in which the gems are found, and then the pebbles
which accompany the diamonds. Copper, iron, and other ores were
exhibited; many excellent specimens of leather were displayed; there
was a collection of stuffed birds; there were tusks of ivory, skins
of various wild beasts, specimens of wool, and a model of the carts
used to convey it to the coast. The great business of the country is
in grazing, and the sheep and cattle in its limits may be counted by
millions. Its population is estimated at about one hundred thousand,
of which three-fourths are whites. Of late years, the farmers have
found an excellent market for many articles of produce, by taking them
to the diamond mines.
[Sidenote: SCENE AT AN AUCTION.]
The scene at the sale of edibles is a curious one. As the fields
became thickly populated, there was a great demand for fruits and
vegetables, and the farmers sent in everything they could spare. At
one time, oranges sold for twenty-five cents each, potatoes for seven
cents a pound, and eggs one dollar and twenty-five cents a dozen.
Nearly everything was sold at auction, the farmers arranging the
things in lots to suit purchasers, and then submitting them to the
care of the market master. The scene at an auction is thus described:
“At seven o’clock in the morning, the market master mounts a stool,
and business commences. An eager crowd surrounds him, of all colors
and nations, yelling, talking, laughing, and making themselves merry,
when suddenly a dead silence falls on the reckless assemblage, as a
pail of eggs are held up to their gaze. ‘Now, how much for the eggs,
at per dozen?—one shilling bid?’ A dozen heads bob in the affirmative.
Two shillings; three. The price rises, until the man with the long
purse becomes their owner. Up goes a pumpkin. A rush by the crowd.
Every eye seeks that of the auctioneer. Every man wants to bid; but in
the twinkling of an eye it’s gone. ‘For how much?’ an outsider asks
of another. ‘Cheap at three “bob”’ (shillings), he answers. Up goes
another pumpkin, and another, until very likely a whole wagon-load is
disposed of, at prices which make the old Boer’s face wrinkle with
smiles. Next there is a scramble to get exactly over a heap of fine
potatoes which are to be sold. Two or three weaker ones get upset in
the rush, while a dense circle of giant and muscular diggers surrounds
the center of attraction. Of course the unlucky outsiders have no
chance of catching the market-master’s eye, and, in self-defense,
form an opposition circle around the next pile, each one mentally
calculating the amount of ‘tin’ he is prepared to stake on the produce
before him. This exciting work goes on until nine o’clock, when the
crowd of diggers, having purchased everything eatable, leave for their
claims, while the lucky owners of the wagons crowd into the little
market-office, eager to receive the price of their loads, and to
‘trek’ away from the city of tents.”
[Sidenote: STRUGGLING WITH NATURE.]
The diamond fields are subject to heavy rains, and also to very sudden
and furious winds. The amount of dust and flies in circulation, is
quite uncalculable. One visitor says that the flies, troublesome as
they are, are much more agreeable than the dust. “Although persecuting
one most incessantly by day, night puts a stop to their torments,
while no sooner does a puff of air come from yonder plain, than you
inhale a volume of dust—not the earthy, loamy dust of agricultural
land, but the whitish-gray lung powder which has been refined by
the action of shovel and sieve, until it is as light as air. It
impregnates your food, your hair is like a door mat, and your eyes
have a chronic soreness, as though a thousand delicate needles were
pricking into the eyeballs, while your body is chafed and sore from
the friction of dusty clothes. All this is unpleasant; but we will
suppose that the gentle wind has increased to a howling tempest, that
storm clouds fill the sky, and tents shake to the breeze; then, and
then only, do the diggers reach the climax of misery. From hundreds
of sieves, and hundreds of conical dust heaps, the wind gathers its
load, and, like some malicious fiend, sweeps through the camp, turning
the light of day into a hideous yellow twilight, circling around
unprotected tents, and through all the seams and cracks, filling
them full of floating dust. The diggers sneeze, cough, weep, and for
relief rush into the open air, or more properly, into an air of lime,
where, utterly choked and blinded, they fall on their faces, there to
gasp for breath, like a dying turtle, and curse the day they saw the
fields.
“This sometimes continues for hours: business is suspended; people
desert their claims, and shut themselves up in their dwellings; the
streets are abandoned to the dogs, and no one has rest until the wind
falls, or a blessed shower turns dust to mud. Whirlwinds of any size
or power are always considered unpleasant visitors, and in Du Toit’s
Pan they still keep up their reputation. They do not actually tear
things upside down, and ruin whole tracts of country, as our Western
tornadoes do, but they have an elevating influence, which tents,
unfortunately, find it hard to resist, and try their hand at some
mischievous trick, which involuntarily makes the sufferer shake his
fist at the receding column, as if it was some naughty boy with a
smart pair of legs. Now, a broad-brimmed hat leaves its owner’s head
with a rush, and when he clears his sight, and spies it majestically
revolving two or three hundred feet above him, and evidently having
a through ticket for the distant plain, his heart sinks within him,
and he mournfully descends his heap to purchase another, or lets his
‘angry passions rise,’ and flails his Caffre for ‘hooraying’ at the
exciting spectacle. Again, a digger is industriously sorting on a
light table. He has nearly finished his work, when, on looking up, he
sees that which makes him shut his eyes, hermetically seal his lips,
and bob his head under the table. It is an unlucky position, for the
whirlwind upsets the table on his head. It skins his face, and then
dives down the adjoining hole, on top of some affrighted black, while
the column of wind and sand rushes on, increasing in size and power
until it appears on the edge of the camp, to the dismay of all ladies
on the streets, all cooks in their canvas or open-air kitchens, and
all owners of crazy or dilapidated tents. A minute or two more, it is
a thing of the past. The damage is done. The column is far out on the
dreary plain, and people resume their occupations.
“One spring day, a tent-maker who lived by us, had placed a large
and light frame tent upon the edge of the road, without fastening it
in any way to the ground. He was warned not to leave it so exposed,
but it being a calm day, the advice was neglected. About an hour
after, he was inside, busy decorating its walls with red tape, when
a sudden and violent whirlwind swept off the claims in all its dusty
majesty, and careering down the road, encountered the unfortunate
tent. A moment more, it rose in the air like a balloon, the astounded
tent-maker vainly hanging to its ribs, until, seeing it was bound to
go up, he dropped out, like an apple from a tree. Up it went, whirling
with frightful velocity, and pursuing the course of the road, until it
knocked fiercely against the gable of a neighboring canteen. In went
the roof, while out came the inmates, amidst the smash of bottles and
the running of brandy. On and on, and round and round, went the tent,
until, espying a jaunty little canvas house which defied wind and
rain, in a fit of jealousy it went into it, and, with a grand smash,
both lay in ribbons on the ground, while the disgusted tent-maker
settled a bill for two ruined houses, instead of being paid for
erecting one.
“During the summer months, rain-storms, with heavy thunder and
lightning, are frequent. They generally approach with a violent
breeze, sharp lightning, and loud thunder. The clouds are all in
motion, crossing and meeting each other, while along the face of the
nimbus, or storm-cloud, is a heavy gray pall of vapor. This is much
lower than the rain-cloud, and when close to the earth, portends
a fearful storm. The gathering blackness, increased by clouds of
dust, the zigzag lightning, the hoarse, reverberating sound of the
thunder, and the moaning wind, all strike the spectator with awe.
He gazes around him out on the distant plain, where all is dreary
and somber; at the immense gray mounds of the claims, deserted, and
looking ghostly and unearthly against their pitchy background—and the
storm is upon us. Some ominous rain-drops strike the tent, a flash of
lightning blinds, a peal of thunder stuns, and the gates of heaven
open. The war of the tempest drowns all other sound, the tent shakes
and trembles beneath the blast, while rivers of water course down the
street, cutting great gullies in the road, and quickly undermining
any protective earth-work the digger has placed around him. Soon the
canvas begins to leak, and the inmates of the tent stand in dripping
silence, listening to the war of the elements. One night, our Caffres
were drowned out by one of these heavy storms. They generally slept in
a large, circular fire-place of three feet deep, just sufficient to
keep the cold from them, and thus were snugly ensconced when it began
to rain. Above the fire-place was a hollow which drained into it. As
this drainage was very unpleasant, and often, in heavy rains, flooded
out the fire, we built a dam against it as a protection. On the night
in question, it rained so fast the hollow was soon a sheet of water,
which pressed with such force against the dam that it gave way. In
an instant, the fire-place was full to overflowing, and the Caffres,
thus rudely awakened, gave one mighty yell as the waters covered
them. Aroused by the noise, I peeped forth as they were struggling
out, their black heads showing around the edge of the fire-place like
those of so many hippopotami. After getting out, and giving some
hearty shakes, they commenced fishing up their bed-clothes from the
treacherous flood. Long before sunrise, next morning, they were at
the tent door, calling loudly for ‘soupies,’ or what we denominate
‘eye-openers,’ and certainly their condition, after what they had gone
through, demanded relief.”
[Sidenote: THE LUCKY ONES.]