THROUGH THE MAKALAKA AND WEST MATABELE CODNTRIES.
Start southwards--Vlakvarks--An adventurer--The Tamasanka
pools--The Libanani glade--Animal life on the plateau--The
Maytengue--An uneasy conscience--Menon the Makalaka chief--A
spy--Menon’s administration of justice--Pilfering propensities
and dirtiness of the Makalakas--Morula-trees--A Matabele
warrior--An angry encounter--Ruins on the Rocky Shasha--Scenery
on the Rhamakoban river--A deserted gold-field--History of the
Matabele kingdom--More ruins--Lions on the Tati--Westbeech and
Lo Bengula--The leopard in Pit Jacobs’ house--Journey continued.
[Illustration: RUINS OF ROCKY SHASHA.]
Taking a south-easterly route, we drove on to Schneeman’s Pan, where we
halted for the rest of the day. Throughout the early morning, nothing
could be more agreeable than the odour of the white cinque-foiled
blossoms of the mopondo shrubs. In the evening we started off again,
and travelled all night and some part of the next day until we came
to the edge of the Gashuma Flat. Here we were obliged to pause for a
time, because the recent rains had transformed the meadows into perfect
swamps. The grass, known by the natives as matumbe, was in many places
six or seven feet high, so that we did not see a great quantity of
game. Whilst we were halting, we were overtaken by six Marutse who had
hastened after us to bring some buffalo horns of mine that Westbeech
had accidentally left behind at Sesheke, as well as an elephant’s tusk
weighing 25 lbs. They followed us as far as Panda ma Tenka, under the
excuse that they wanted to get some lucifer-matches for Sepopo, but
their real motive was to ascertain whether Kapella had joined our party.
Ever since I had become aware of Kapella’s circumstances I had
endeavoured to keep him supplied with corn from my own and Westbeech’s
store, and he had left the Leshumo valley, going on ahead of us
towards the Gashuma Flat, where we again fell in with him and with
Moia. Amongst their attendants I recognized one of the boatmen who had
behaved so badly to me after starting from Sesheke.
As not a single head of game had been shot by one of our party for
some days, the arrival of a goat, which Bradshaw sent us from Panda ma
Tenka, was a very agreeable surprise. Another night’s journey took us
beyond the tsetse district, and after putting up the heavy waggons
beside one of the Panda ma Tenka affluents, we proceeded in advance to
the settlement itself. It was sad to see how fever had reduced both
Bradshaw and my former servant Pit to the merest skeletons.
Soon after our arrival Westbeech made me the unwelcome communication
that the tsetse-fly had committed such havoc amongst his bullocks that
he was absolutely unable to fulfil the contract he had made when he
purchased my team. He could not take my waggon to the south, and had
no alternative but to ask me to transfer my packages to one of those
in which he was conveying his own ivory. The removal of my property
occupied me some time on the 27th.
We here met an ivory-dealer who had just come from Shoshong. He told us
that Khame was still using all his influence to check the importation
of brandy, and with regard to myself he observed that the people of
Shoshong would be much surprised to see me back again, as they had been
quite sure that I should never return to the south.
After clearing out my waggon, I spent the rest of the day in trying to
make good any deficiencies in my collections. I bought 1300 beetles
from Bradshaw, for which I gave him 20_l._, and paid him in ivory
for forty bird-skins besides; Walsh also for some of my ivory let me
have sixty-three more bird-skins.
On the following afternoon we left the valley. Westbeech showed me
every possible consideration on the way to Shoshong, but naturally I
could not feel anything like the same independence as when travelling
in my own waggon; there were many places in which we only halted a
few hours where I should have been glad to stay on indefinitely, and I
saw enough of the West Matabele country to satisfy me that an explorer
might find things of interest in it to occupy him for a year at least.
During our passage along the valley our dogs started two vlakvarks.
White men seized their guns, black men followed with their assegais,
and a hot chase lasted for twenty minutes before the creatures were
brought down. Although it has more formidable tusks than any other of
its species, in comparison with the European wild boar, the vlakvark is
a feeble, spiritless creature; its skin is extremely thin, and nothing
gives it so remarkable an appearance as its conspicuous white whiskers.
I did not get much sleep on the first night after the transfer of my
boxes; they had been so shaken about in their day’s journey that I
could not lie down to rest until I had properly rearranged them. Next
morning while passing over the last of the grassy glades that are so
frequent between the Zambesi district and the sandy pool plateau, I
observed that herds of ostriches had been along the game-tracks. Had I
been independent I should certainly have stayed a day or two and made
a deliberate investigation of some of the habits of these birds by
following up their traces into the woods; but here, as along the rest
of the way, although I took every available opportunity of seeing what
I could, and devoted much of the night to recording what I had seen
by day, I was constantly deploring the rapid pace at which we had to
travel.
Before reaching Henry’s Pan on the 3rd of February, I noticed that
a herd of at least twenty giraffes had preceded us on our road. As
we approached the Tamasetze pools we were met by a horseman whom
we recognized as a trader named Webster, who had formerly been an
associate of Anderson, an ivory-dealer that I have already mentioned.
Anderson had now gone back, and Webster, as he informed us, was here in
the neighbourhood of Tamasetze hunting ostriches, being encamped almost
close by with two others, one of whom, named Mayer, I had met at one
of the Klamaklenyana springs whilst travelling northwards; the other
I will simply designate as Z. This Z., who professed that he had once
been a trader, had now come into this district under rather peculiar
circumstances. The Zoological Society of London had written out to Cape
Town for a young white rhinoceros, for which they offered the sum of
500_l._, and attracted by the liberal bidding, Z. had resolved to
try his chance of securing the prize.
His first proceeding was to provide himself with a supply of barter
goods which he reckoned he could dispose of at a profit of some 500
per cent., including a very considerable proportion of “fire-water,”
for which he felt certain the demand would be great. He was quite
aware that the likeliest place in which to obtain a rhinoceros such
as he wanted was in the Mashona country; but he had been guilty of
some offence in Matabele-land, so that he was afraid to apply to the
king for permission to re-enter his dominions. Accordingly he betook
himself to Shoshong, but as it came to Khame’s knowledge that he was
bringing brandy for sale, he was forthwith ordered to return to the
south. However, he was unwilling to be diverted from his purpose, and
went to Khame and gave him a distinct promise that he would carry
back all the spirit and dispose of it to the Damara emigrants on the
Limpopo. Khame, not apprehending the _ruse_ that was to be played,
expressed himself satisfied. Z. started off towards the Limpopo, but
was back again so quickly that his return awakened some suspicion;
however, by pointing to his empty waggons, and declaring that he had
found a readier sale than he anticipated, he succeeded in making the
king believe that it was all fair. The truth was he had only concealed
his casks in the woods.
Receiving the king’s permission to proceed, Z. now started on his
venture. He lost no time in picking up his contraband goods, and made
his way north-west through West Matabele and Makalaka-land towards the
sandy pool plateau, giving out to the Zulus that he was Captain Y., and
that he was anxious to obtain permission to visit the Victoria Falls.
He sent messengers to Lo Bengula, the Zulu king at Gubuluwayo, to that
effect, but spending several months afterwards on the pool plateau, he
lost the four horses he had brought with him; however he succeeded in
disposing of all his goods except four kegs of spirits of wine.
Meanwhile Khame had heard of his proceedings through some travelling
Bamangwatos, and from the Masarwas and Madenassanas, who resided near
the plateau, and Z., aware that his smuggling had been discovered, was
in a state of great alarm lest he should be prohibited from returning
to the south; for reasons already stated, he was even more afraid of
falling into the hands of Lo Bengula, and as he was obliged to abandon
his scheme of getting the rhinoceros, he hailed our arrival as a
circumstance that might be turned to his advantage.
Poor Mayer was terribly altered since I saw him last; the ravages of
fever in a few weeks had pulled him down so much that I hardly knew
him. Several of Z.’s servants were also suffering from weakness which
the fever had brought on, and he wished me to prescribe for them. I
could only tell him that I had not a grain of medicine left, having
given the last which I had bought of Bradshaw to Pit and Jan Mahura’s
son; at the same time I instructed him that he would materially benefit
the men’s muscles if he would make them rub their ankles with some of
his brandy. It was then he told me that he had no brandy left, having
sold everything except some spirits of wine. That, I replied, would
answer the purpose just as well.
But Z. had no idea of employing his spirits of wine for any such
beneficent object; he diluted his alcohol as freely as he dared
with water, and took an early opportunity of selling it to my
fellow-travellers, principally to Westbeech, for 33l. The atrocious
stuff completely overpowered Westbeech, and Z. took advantage of his
condition to induce him to purchase his team, thereby ensuring that it
should not fall into Khame’s hands.
I am only too ready to draw a veil over the proceedings of the rest of
that sojourn at Tamasetze; they are even now painful in the retrospect;
suffice it to say, that they ended in an arrangement by which Z. was to
be conveyed to the south as Westbeech’s guest. He seemed to rejoice in
the recollection that although his expedition had not brought him any
vast profit, at least it had entailed no serious loss.
Leaving Tamasetze on the 7th, we went on past the Tamafopa and Yoruah
pools towards the most northerly of the Klamaklenyana springs, where
a road branched off to the south-east to the Makalaka country. The
deplorable effects of Z.’s alcohol extended beyond our stay at
Tamasetze, and the man who drove the waggon in which I was riding
remained so drunk that several times the vehicle was in danger of being
overturned, and more than once I was obliged to take the reins, thus
exposing myself in a way which in my condition of health proved very
bad.
At the Yoruah pools Bradshaw had a relapse; Diamond and a waggon-driver
fell ill; my own servant, Elephant, had an attack of dysentery, and two
more of Westbeech’s people showed symptoms of fever; in consequence of
such an amount of sickness we halted for nearly two days, an interval
of which I took all the advantage I could to add to my store of
natural curiosities. We did not reach the springs until the 12th, and
started again the same evening. Game was very scarce on the plateau,
obviously owing to the fact that the hollows in the woods were so full
of rainwater that the animals had no occasion to resort to the springs
near the roads.
As the result of my premature exposure I had a severe shivering fit
next night, and to add to my misfortune our tipsy driver failed to
get out of the way of a bough that protruded across the road, and the
concussion was so severe that all the coleoptera that I had collected
during the last five days were damaged, and many of them quite
destroyed.
We had a toilsome march next day through a dense sandy underwood.
In the night a herd of rhinoceroses and some elephants crossed our
path, and shortly afterwards we came to a glade called Tamasanka,
containing some pools that never dry up. The water in them was clear,
but Westbeech told me that if kept in a vessel for two or three days it
always begins to thicken. I had no opportunity of proving the fact for
myself.
In the afternoon I for the first time saw a widow-bird (_Vidua
paradisea_), a species of finch which is very common on the west
coast; I also found fly-catchers, pyroles, small speckled-green
woodpeckers, and the _Vidua regia_. As a general rule birds
abounded more in the open parts of the pool plateau than in the densely
wooded district where the ponds lay in small glades.
For the two succeeding days the track was so thickly overgrown with
grass that we had some difficulty in determining our proper route. The
servants, in investigating the path, were highly delighted at finding
the half-eaten carcase of a giraffe that had probably been killed by
lions.
On the 16th we came to a region which is almost a precise counterpart
of the Maque plain, being covered with mapani-trees and abounding in
pools full of fish. The natives call it the Libanani, and it forms the
south-eastern extremity of the plateau. It now belongs to the eastern
Bamangwatos and the Matabele; but in Moselikatze’s time it belonged
exclusively to the Matabele, being the most westerly part of their
territory; its outlying parts, however, were so continually ravaged by
lions, that no safety could be secured for cattle, which consequently
had all to be withdrawn. The woods are thick only at the edge of the
ponds, which I imagine are all in the line of what was the bed of a
river, that in all likelihood has now been dry for centuries.
From the open character of the adjacent country the Libanani glade has
a special charm for sportsmen. It abounds in many varieties of game,
from the duykerbock to the elephant, and here, as in other parts of the
plateau, the ornithologist will find a most interesting field for study
in the waders and swimming-birds. Both by day and by night, too, birds
of prey are perpetually to be observed, and in the moist places, where
the soil is carpeted with flowers, sun-birds and bee-eaters may be seen
in swarms, while in the boughs that overhang the water, the bright
blue _Alcedo cristata_, the _Halcyon Swainsonii_ and the
black-and-white _Ceryle rudis_ are perpetually sporting. I must
also include in my list the giant heron (_Ardea Goliath_), and the
beautiful little _Nettapus Madagascariensis_. This is of the goose
tribe; it is from twelve to fourteen inches long; its head, neck, and
back are of a glossy dark green; underneath it is white, except the
breast and sides, which are of a reddish brown; its face and throat are
also white, and it has a bright green spot on either side of its neck.
Attractive as the diversity of animal life makes the Libanani, there
are two reasons why it is very undesirable to make a lengthened stay
there; in the first place the pools at the end of summer exhale a very
malarious atmosphere, and in the second, it is infested with yellow
cobras, which, in the way to which I have elsewhere referred, lie in
wait in the trees overhanging the game tracks. Westbeech told me that
in dry winters the ponds contain so little water that the fish in them,
of which the glanis is the most common species, can be easily caught
with the hands. It was here that for the first time for many months I
heard the howl of the silver jackal (_Canis mesomelas_). I found
that many of the plants were identical with those that grew in the
salt-lake basin, and was consequently confirmed in my opinion that the
Libanani is one of the lowest parts of the whole pool-plateau district.
I noticed also some handsome palm-bushes, the first I had seen since I
left the vicinity of the Zambesi.
Winter was said to be the best time for game, and this was confirmed
by the small amount of success that some of our party had in going out
to shoot for the replenishment of our larder; but even at this period
of the year I noticed the tracks of a considerable number of animals
across our path, amongst them those of the black rhinoceros.
A long drive on the 18th brought us into the valley of the Nata, which
we should subsequently have to cross. The river here had all the
characteristics of a sandy spruit, opening at intervals into pools,
the banks being overgrown with grass six or seven feet high, and
containing a number of hollows, which after floods are left full of
water, corresponding in this respect with many South African streams,
particularly those included in the Limpopo system.
Our road next lay through a dense mapani-wood. Four years previously,
Westbeech had been the first traveller to use this route by the Nata
and Maytengue rivers to the Matabele country, and I accordingly gave
the track the name of the “Westbeech road.” In the evening we came to
a grass plain almost entirely enclosed by woods, where the Maytengue
river in its course from the Makalaka lands is said to lose itself in
the soil.
The Maytengue appears to diminish both in breadth and depth towards its
mouth, and its banks are literally riddled with pitfalls. We crossed a
great many deep but narrow dry rain-channels, hundreds of which find
their way to the river, but flow for so short a time that they hardly
make any appreciable difference to the stream, which consequently
dwindles away in the lower part of its wide sandy bed; the longer
section of its course runs through the fine hill-country occupied by
Menon’s Makalakas.
Throughout the whole of the next day we followed the right hand bank
of the stream. Bradshaw had an attack of dysentery, and Westbeech was
so far from well that I insisted upon his coming for a time under
my immediate charge. Ever since we left Panda ma Tenka the weather
had been very trying, the days, and especially the afternoons, being
extremely sultry, the nights bitterly cold.
Just before we crossed the Maytengue on the 21st, my attention was
called to a tall hollow mapani-tree, beneath which a Makalaka chief
had been buried. The people had a superstition that their “morimo,”
or unseen god, resided in the tree, and as they passed by were in the
habit of dropping their bracelets into the hollow trunk. They had the
same belief about one of the caves in the hills, and carried presents
every year to the spot.
The country became more elevated as we proceeded, and some hills of
granite rose in front of us, though not lofty enough to shut out the
view of the real Makalaka heights in the background. On arriving at the
first of these hills, Westbeech, with Bradshaw, walked off to obtain an
interview with Menon; he was anxious to get the chief to provide him
an escort as far as Gubuluwayo the capital, where he wanted to see a
friend of his, named Philipps, who was staying with Lo Bengula, and to
induce him to go on with him to Shoshong, and assist him in settling
his accounts. The high esteem in which Westbeech was held by the
Makalakas ensured him a kind reception from Menon, who not only granted
the request that was made, but lost no time in paying a return visit.
Ever since we had entered the Maytengue valley, Z. had been in a
perpetual fidget. Whether we were on the move or at rest his uneasiness
continued just the same; he was always on the look-out, and there
seemed no end to his fancies. He had never been a favourite with any
of our party, and Westbeech openly avowed his disapproval of all his
business transactions; finding, therefore, that there was no one on the
road who cared for his society, he would try and seek refuge with me,
confined as I was to my waggon. But even here his nervousness did not
desert him: as he sat beside me he would continually ask whether I did
not hear a noise in the woods, or had not seen some one disappearing
in the bushes. At night, too, when we were all round the camp-fire
I generally found that he took his place at my side, although he
was never still long together, but kept creeping away to peer into
the darkness. I remonstrated with him for his strange behaviour,
without succeeding for a long time in getting anything out of him;
after a while, however, he told me that on a previous visit, as he
and his servants were returning single file from an elephant-hunt, a
gun had accidentally gone off and killed one of Menon’s people, and
he now feared that he might be recognized and accused of the deed.
Understanding that we were here encamping close to Menon’s residence,
his alarm became more intense than ever, and he kept most cautiously in
the rear of the waggons, not suffering his face to be seen until the
chief’s visit was over.
Menon was a gaunt-looking man of about fifty years of age, and an
arrant hypocrite. All his attendants had countenances as ignoble as
his own. It is in order that the tribe may be distinguished from
their brethren north of the Zambesi that I have designated them as
Menon’s Makalakas. Together with their southern compatriots they were
subjugated by the Matabele Zulus in 1837. Up to that time they had
been peaceful agriculturists and cattle-breeders; but now they do very
little in the way of rural pursuits, and have become the most notorious
thieves and the greatest rascals in South Africa, a change entirely
to be attributed to the demoralizing and vicious influence of their
oppressors.
The six attendants of the chief squatted round our fire, and Menon,
wrapped in a mangy mantle of wild cats’ skins, remained standing.
He scanned every one so carefully, that it was quite apparent
he was looking for some one in particular, and an expression of
dissatisfaction rested on his face as he closed his scrutiny. He spoke
of the death of his servant, saying that he had heard all about the
affair from a man who had been in company with the victim, adding
that he had been assured by one of his spies that the perpetrator of
the deed was a white man, who had joined our party at the Nata river.
Disappointed at not identifying the individual he wanted, Menon began
to vent his annoyance by demanding toll from Walsh and myself, under
the pretext that we had entered his territory for the first time.
Westbeech, who was the only one among us who understood the Makalaka
dialect, told us to be quiet and to take no notice of the chief, and
then proceeded to give him such a lecture on the duty of hospitality,
that he very soon altered his tone, and promised that he would send
us a goat, adding that he was sorry that he was unable to give us
a cow, as the Matabele had stolen all his cattle. We acknowledged
his politeness by making him a present of powder and shot, which he
accepted as graciously as he could.
After he was gone, one of his attendants, a mean-looking creature,
lingered behind with our servants near the fire; the behaviour of the
fellow was peculiar, and I kept my eye on him. He was pretending to
warm himself, but it was easy to see that he was looking behind the
waggons. All at once he stirred the fire into a blaze. He had caught
sight of Z., who, not observing that a stranger was amongst our party,
had returned from his retreat in the rear. He inquired nervously of me
whether Menon had asked any questions about him, and when I replied
that he had alluded to the death of the Makalaka, he jumped up and
swore that Menon was a great liar. At this moment Menon’s man, who most
probably had heard what passed, got up and walked quietly away.
“Look,” I said to Z., “that fellow is one of Menon’s spies!”
Z. clenched his fist and made a movement as if he would run after him,
but his courage failed him, and he remained where he was.
When we retired at night to our waggons, it was manifest that Z. was
still very uneasy, and by the glances he threw in all directions he
showed that he was apprehensive of some sudden attack.
Of the men who came with Menon, two were armed with assegais, and four
carried kiris. Some of the Makalakas have muskets.
The Makalaka women wear short leather petticoats, covered with
white and violet beads; they are fairly expert in various kinds of
handicraft, but the specimens I saw were on the whole inferior to the
work of the Bechuanas.
It appeared to me that the Maytengue valley has all the elements of a
future El Dorado. There is excellent pasturage on the wooded downs, and
for the naturalist it is a region full of delight; the great drawback
to its being properly explored is the unsatisfactory character of the
natives.
When Westbeech, accompanied by a servant on horseback and a few
Makalakas on foot, set out on his visit to Gubuluwayo, the rest of us
proceeded on our way, but only for about three miles. We halted under
a morula-tree, staying for the double purpose of purchasing corn and
melons, and receiving the goat that Menon had promised us. We soon
came upon a great assembly of Makalakas, and at first imagined that
some festival was being celebrated. We were not long, however, in
being informed that Menon was about to hold an assize, and that Z.
was forthwith to be summoned to take his trial. And so it proved; Z.
was sent for, and as the cause was to be tried in Sechuana, Jan Mahura
was appointed to act as interpreter. The trial was of short duration,
and Z. was adjudged guilty. Menon’s sentence was somewhat remarkable;
it was to the effect that it did not matter whether the white man had
really shot the Makalaka or not; it did not matter whether the gun had
or had not gone off accidentally; the white man must make compensation,
both to the dead man’s relatives and to himself, the dead man’s master.
Great was Z.’s alarm; his face turned crimson; he trembled with
agitation; he began to assert his innocence with such volubility that
Jan Mahura in vain tried to keep pace with him. At last, finding that
the defendant was only damaging his own case, the interpreter took up
the matter independently, and argued with such good effect, that in
spite of the outcry of the relations of the deceased, Menon ruled that
a fine should be inflicted, consisting of a coloured woollen shirt,
a blanket, and seven pocket-handkerchiefs, instead of the musket and
ammunition and the lot of woollen goods he had intended to demand.
He insisted, moreover, that the shirt should fall to his own lot as
arbitrator; and as soon as he received it, he doubled it up and was
walking away quite content. But the relations were not to be pacified
quite so easily; they flung the blanket and the handkerchiefs down
before Z.’s feet, and abusing him vehemently as a murderer, made such
an outcry that Menon was obliged to come back. Jan Mahura’s tact again
proved adequate to the occasion. He whispered to Z. that he should
offer blanket and handkerchiefs all to the chief, and so secure him
as an ally. Menon accepted the contribution, sent all the complainants
quickly to the right about, and thus put an end to the whole affair.
The Makalakas appear to have very much the same aptitude for pilfering
as the Masupias have for conjuring, and I was told of a circumstance
which may serve to illustrate their thievish propensities. An
ivory-trader purchased a tusk of a party of them and stowed it away in
his waggon; another party soon afterwards brought a second tusk, but
they asked a price for it so much higher that the trader hesitated;
they urged him to have it weighed, and in the middle of the weighing
process another lot of Makalakas arrived bringing a third tusk.
Meantime, the first tusk was being deftly abstracted from the waggon.
The men represented that they were in a great hurry, and induced the
trader to buy the two tusks together. Having got their payment, the
sellers made their way off quickly into the woods. The trader carried
off his new purchase to compare what he had just bought with the tusk
he had left in the waggon, and his chagrin may be better imagined than
described when he found that the ivory had disappeared, and that after
paying for three tusks he was only in possession of two.
As ivory can only be sold by clandestine means, when the natives want
to dispose of any of the contraband article they generally come to a
traveller in a party, and while some of them carry on the negotiations,
the others watch their opportunity for laying their hands upon anything
and everything within reach. It may almost be affirmed that nothing is
safe except it has been tied or screwed to the panels of the waggon.
Their dishonesty, as I have said, is ingrained, so thoroughly has it
been instilled into them or forced upon them by the Matabele. During
any conversation with them it is advisable to keep them at a distance,
and to take care that at least one servant is left on each side of the
waggon, and that even he is prohibited from talking with them. When,
however, they find themselves baffled, and obliged to retire without
securing any plunder, or when any of them has been detected in a theft,
they will go back to their people, and declare that it is of no use
trying to rob the white man, because he has “a good medicine;” meaning
that he possesses a charm which enables him to see what is going on in
one place while he is engaged in another.
In addition to their other disgusting qualities all the Makalakas south
of the Zambesi, especially those under Matabele rule, are indescribably
dirty. With the exception of those who have been in service under white
men, I believe the majority of them have not washed for years, and I
saw women wearing strings upon strings of beads, several pounds in
weight, of which the undermost layers were literally sticking to their
skins.
Since their subjugation to the Matabele, their mode of building their
huts has very much degenerated, and most of their little villages are
not much better than collections of ruins. Some few of them may be said
to be fairly industrious; but almost the sole remaining virtue at all
conspicuous in this sunken people is their extreme modesty and decorum,
which is hardly equalled in any other of the South African tribes.
Above the underwood through which we passed in the afternoon rose a
great number of granite hills, varying from twenty to seventy feet
in height, and either pyramidal or conical in form. The further we
advanced along the bank of the Maytengue, the finer the scenery became.
From time to time we passed some more of the morula-trees that I have
mentioned; each family in a village is allotted one or more of these,
according to the population of the place, for its own special use; they
are usually enclosed by a fence placed about three yards away from the
stem, the object of which is to save the wild fruit from being devoured
by animals as it falls. The pulp of the fruit is made into a beverage
which has very much the character of cider, and the kernel, if I am
rightly informed, is occasionally pounded and used as meal.
Our road several times brought us quite close to the Maytengue, and the
country in the valley was often very charming. On the way I chanced to
be a witness of a very affecting meeting between a negro and his aged
mother; and various incidents were related to me by Diamond and others
that all tended to confirm my belief that many a native has really
refined feelings lurking in his breast which are only waiting for
civilization to draw forth.
Our afternoon camp was made in the vicinity of several villages, of
which the residents told us that a few days previously Menon had
received a visit from a troop of Matabele soldiers, who had come to
demand boys as recruits for their last-formed regiment. Menon had
refused to comply, and it was only too likely, they said, that the
refusal would cost him his life, as although the Makalakas are fairly
supplied with guns, their villages are so small and scattered, that
they are soon overpowered by such a force as the Matabele can bring
against them. It was by mere force exercised in this way, and by
carrying off the young lads violently from their parents, that in 1837
Moselikatze with a complement of only forty warriors began to found a
kingdom which at present has an aggregate of about 20,000 fighting-men.
On the following day our route lay amongst the numerous granite hills,
every few hundred yards opening a new and pleasant prospect to our
view. At our first halting-place we fell in with a sub-chieftain named
Henry, who was an old acquaintance of Westbeech’s, and out of regard to
him provided sorghum, maize, and melons for the benefit of Bradshaw,
who remained far from well. Henry had his people under very good
control, and as long as we were near him we felt pretty secure against
any great annoyance; during our halt, however, we were surprised by the
sudden appearance of one of those scourges of the district, a Matabele
warrior, who came blustering up and shouting, “Hulloa, white men! you
have some of Sepopo’s people there. Give them up, or pay for them. If
you don’t, one by one I’ll kill them all.” He had his gun in one hand,
and in the other he brandished his kiri, which once very nearly touched
my face. I was inclined to be angry, but controlled my temper, and
warned the swaggering idiot off in a way that made all the Makalakas
roar with laughter. Finding that he could make no impression upon me,
he went to Bradshaw and Walsh, who merely laid their hands upon their
rifles, an action which the fellow pretended that he was to take as a
challenge, whereupon he began to storm more furiously than ever; but
when they advanced towards him and showed that they were in earnest, he
lost no time in beating a retreat, to the unbounded amusement of the
lookers-on.
The next drive took us through fresh mountain scenery, the heights
being clothed with the candelabra-euphorbias as I had seen them
on the Bamangwato hills. The fields that we passed were of
considerable extent; the farmsteads were large and well enclosed; the
dwelling-houses situated in their most prominent parts. At intervals of
about every eighty yards in the enclosure was a simple wooden pitfall.
The whole of the Makalaka villages, however, were but a mere wreck of
what they had been before the Matabele invaded the Matoppo mountains.
The village that we had last passed was called Kasheme, and before the
day was gone we came to another named Bosi-mapani. The settlements
hereabouts were very numerous, and the next morning we arrived at
another, where, although we halted and unyoked our teams half a mile
away from the residences, we were soon visited by a number of the
people, who wanted to sell us provisions. Bradshaw, after bargaining
with a party of the Makalakas, bought a goat and a sheep, but it
happened at the moment that all our servants were engaged at the
waggons, and that there was no one at hand to drive the purchase home
to our encampment. After a while one man was procured, but before he
could get near them, the animals had all scampered off. The cunning
Makalakas had set their shepherd-boys to sound their pipes close
by, and as soon as the goat and the sheep heard the accustomed note
they galloped away, each to its separate herd. Our man succeeded in
overtaking and capturing one of the sheep, but the other two creatures
got clean away. It was in vain that we threatened to report the dealers
to Lo Bengula. They took our threats in the calmest way, and walked
off to their homes, contriving, before they went, to get possession of
Westbeech’s pocket-knife. It is scarcely necessary to say, that neither
the goat nor the sheep was ever recovered.
By the 25th we had diverged somewhat from the Maytengue. Most of the
granite hills were now on our left; but we could see others still more
important rising on the southern horizon in front of us.
The visits that from time to time continued to be made to us by
Matabele soldiers were a perpetual source of uneasiness to Z.; he
appeared to dread them much more than the Makalakas, and the mere
sight of any Zulu made him creep back as rapidly and as stealthily
as he could to his waggon. None of them ever recognized him, but it
happened once during a noonday halt, that he came into collision with
two of them in a way that almost cost him his life. Distinguishable at
once as Matabele by their feather head-dresses, and by their aprons of
wild cats’ tails, two young fellows came to the waggon begging for a
“lapiana” (a piece of calico). Z.’s little dog flew at them, growling
and barking, and one of them in his annoyance was about to give the
animal a tremendous blow with his kiri, which probably would have
dashed its brains out. Z. came rushing forward, flushed with rage, to
protect his dog, and shook his fist in the face of the intruders. It
was just the excuse for a fight which the Matabele wanted; a regular
scrimmage ensued, and two to one as they were, a kiri would inevitably
very soon have descended on Z.’s head if Bradshaw and I had not
interfered in time. We held our guns in our hands, but when the young
rascals saw that we did not raise them, they struck their kiris upon
the ground and broke out into a storm of abuse, which they were still
continuing, when an old Matabele, his rank as a warrior indicated by
his leather circlet covered by hair, made his appearance on the scene.
Hearing what had transpired, he caught hold of a good stout bough of a
tree, and laid it vigorously about the shoulders of the offenders. He
treated them exactly like naughty little boys, and they, like little
boys, crept back in disgrace, keeping their grumbling to themselves.
In the course of the afternoon we came to a village named Kambusa.
It consisted only of about fifteen huts, and belonged to a man of
the name of Tantje, whom Westbeech knew very well, so that we had no
fear of meeting with any annoyance in it. Tantje’s residence had two
enclosures, one of stakes round his hut, and another of thorn-bushes
outside his fields. This was the last of the Makalaka villages we had
to pass; five-and-twenty years ago they extended another hundred miles
to the south, but now we were close to the boundary of the province,
and before the evening we had crossed the existing frontier.
Upon the shore of the little river Ashangena, about 600 yards away
from the road, Diamond drew my attention to a bush, beneath which he
informed me that Mr. Frank Oates, an Englishman, had been buried. He
had been hunting in the district, and had taken fever and died. His
death had really occurred in the Makalaka country, but it was necessary
to bring him to be buried at the frontier. His brother, Mr. William
Oates, in 1874 erected a gravestone over the spot.
We had two small streams to cross before we came to the Matliutse,
which crossed our path transversely. During the last stage of our
journey through Makalaka-land we had crossed no fewer than seventeen
rain-streams, all of them flowing into the Maytengue, and yet forming,
I believe, not more than a tenth part of the affluents of that river.
The scenery was as fine as any I saw during my hurried journey through
the country. The soil was chiefly granite, thickly veined with quartz,
and in many places marked with dark slate-coloured mica, the strata
being variously horizontal, vertical, or oblique, generally towards
the top of the hills slanting downwards at an angle of seventy degrees
to the south-west. I saw nothing more interesting than the picturesque
masses of granite that crowned the slopes of the hills; so strange and
fantastic were their forms that I could not resist entering them upon
my chart with names corresponding to what seemed to be their shapes.
One on the Matliutse I called “the cap;” another on the next spruit,
“the two sparrows;” another, “the club;” and a fourth, to the right of
the road, the most striking of all, I named “the pyramid.” The scenery
gave me some idea how charming the country must be in the highlands in
the upper parts of the Matliutse, Shasha, Tati, and Rhamakoban, which
are all of them affluents of the Limpopo.
As I crossed the two Shasha rivers next day it became perfectly clear
to my mind that the Shaneng must flow either into the Matliutse or one
of its tributaries. The district seemed full of game, but not to the
same extent as in former years. The animals of which I saw most were
pallahs, zulu-hartebeests, harrisbocks, and zebras.
In the evening we halted on the right-hand shore of the rocky Shasha,
a stream that has derived its name from the character of its bed. I
took the opportunity of getting out a little distance towards the
east, where, on one of the granite mounds, I found some ruins that had
played their part in the history of central South Africa. The hill was
isolated, and not so high as those near it, and it had been fortified
by a wall composed of blocks of granite laid one upon another, without
being fixed by cement of any kind. The wall was about 140 feet long,
and enclosed a space of ground as nearly as possible on the top of
the hill, being built on the natural crags in such a way that the
artificial rampart it formed hardly rose in some parts many inches from
the ground, whilst in other places it was six feet high; in thickness
it varied from twelve to eighteen inches. It had an entrance facing
the north, and there it projected so as to make a kind of avenue.
The blocks of which it was made were flat, and varying in size from
four to ten inches in length, three to six inches in width, and two
to ten inches in depth, the flat sides being irregular trapeziums. My
impression was that the occupants of this limited fortress--whether
permanent or temporary there was nothing to decide--had also erected
a superior palisade of wood or bushes above the top of the masonry;
but as we were bound to recommence our journey in about two hours
and a half, I had no opportunity of making a deliberate survey, or
of commencing any excavations which might throw more light upon the
subject. We had only time that evening to go a little farther, and the
gathering twilight brought us to a halt on the left-hand shore of the
river, which we crossed.
After traversing as many as twelve tributaries of the rocky Shasha, we
crossed the sandy Shasha, which is connected with its fellow-stream,
finding the scenery at the point where we quitted the river as
beautiful as any in the whole West Matabele country. The abundance and
variety of plants were truly marvellous; and on the slopes where the
stems of the euphorbias were mouldering, I found numerous scolopendra,
two kinds of scorpions, some lizards, and many sorts of insects. Since
I had entered the Makalaka country I had had no return of fever;
and although I was still very weak, I persevered in my naturalist’s
pursuits, finding that the enjoyment refreshed me and more than
compensated for a little extra fatigue. In many places the river was
sandy, but not unfrequently the bed was of granite, that formed a
sort of basin, or opened in a channel, by which the water threaded
its way to the south, to lose itself in the marshes of the valley.
The next stream at which we arrived was the Tati, and its bed was not
only sandy, but so deep, and the banks so steep, that we had very
considerable difficulty in getting across.
Two days later we found ourselves pushing our way along the right-hand
bank of the Rhamakoban, crossing fourteen of its little tributaries,
besides three of the Tati, the whole of which after heavy rain are sure
to be full of water. The district about the Rhamakoban is noted amongst
elephant-hunters for its great abundance of game; giraffes, zebras,
grey pallahs, harrisbocks, gnus, hyænas, and bustards are frequently
to be seen, lions, ostriches, and rhinoceroses being by no means rare.
We were making our way forward with the best speed we could, because
Bradshaw, who was in charge during Westbeech’s absence, had announced
that his stock of corn, meal, tea, sugar, and salt was running short,
and that it was necessary that we should reach the next settlement to
procure fresh supplies.
After crossing eight of its right-hand tributaries we kept along the
valley of the Rhamakoban until we turned into another valley, which
led us under the highlands back again to the bank of the Tati. On
our way I noticed some more of the remarkable rocks, and gave to one
of them the name of “the tablets,” and to another that of “the white
boundary stone,” close to which our road was joined by the road leading
to the central Matabele-land. All this time we were passing a number
of mapani-trees, constituting almost a forest, occasionally broken by
extensive glades.
At the place where we again came upon the Tati, we saw on the slope
of two low hills several buildings in the European style; only two of
these, however, were occupied, one by Pit Jacobs, the elephant-hunter,
the other by a Scotch ivory-trader named Brown. A few years back there
had been no lack of life in the place; gold-diggers had congregated
from all parts of the world in search of the precious metal, but the
discovery that only quartz gold, and not alluvial, was to be obtained,
damped their ardour and soon thinned their ranks. Various companies
were formed to carry on the work, but they were ultimately obliged
to abandon it on account of the insufficiency of machinery. The real
cause of the failure was the distance from the coast, every piece of
machinery, however simple its character, costing five or six times its
own value for its transport up the country.
As a general rule not more than seven ounces of gold were found in a
ton of quartz, though I was told that exceptional cases had been known
where the ton had yielded twenty-four ounces. As well as carrying on
his own business, Mr. Brown was now acting as agent for the companies
in liquidation, as some of their property was still undisposed of.
I saw the remains of the steam-engine by which the quartz had been
pounded still standing in the Tati valley, a short distance below the
settlement; the rock containing the gold had been brought from a spot
some way inland, but when the pits, although they were by no means
deep, once became filled with water, there was no second engine to
empty them, and consequently the whole work was brought to a standstill.
Mr. Brown was away from home at the time of our arrival, having gone to
Gubuluwayo to be married by Mr. Thompson, the resident missionary, to
Miss Jacobs; his managing clerk, however, received us very courteously,
and we were invited to take up our quarters in the place until
Westbeech’s return.
Besides these two residents, I was not a little surprised to find that
the Lotriets, whom I had met at Henry’s Pan, had settled at Tati, and
were living in some grass-huts.
All waggons on their way from the Bamangwato country to the Matabele
are bound to stop at Tati for a change of bullocks, and most of the
traders keep extra teams of their own there to avoid unnecessary
delay. The Matabele had at one time possessed immense herds of cattle,
plundered for the most part from their neighbours, but the Roi-water
plague, which had been brought in from the south, had made such
frightful ravages among them that the king had ordained and enforced
the measure to check any further spread of the disease.
There is always a guard of Matabele troops stationed at Tati, who are
supposed to have surveillance over the countries to the south-east; but
as far as I could make out their chief business consisted in annoying
every white man who arrived, and in arresting all Makalakas on their
way back from the diamond-fields, and after administering a severe
flogging, seizing their guns and ammunition in the name of the king.
[Illustration: BOER’S WIFE DEFENDING HER WAGGON AGAINST KAFIRS.]
At this time the Matabele kingdom was only second in power to any of
the native tribes south of the Zambesi, and now, since the subjugation
of the southern Zulus, it must rank as absolutely the most powerful
of all. It is considerably more than 300 miles long, and from 250 to
300 miles broad. According to Mr. Mackenzie, Moselikatze, the founder
of this extensive kingdom, was the son of Matshobane, a Zulu captain
in Natal; he was taken prisoner by Chaka, the most powerful of the
Zulu chiefs, who subsequently, when he found out the courage of his
captive, gave him the command of one of his marauding expeditions; but
Moselikatze, instead of returning with his booty, carried it off to
the heart of what is now the Transvaal country, subdued the Bakhatlas,
Baharutse, and other Bechuana tribes, and finally settled in the
highlands round the Marico and its tributaries. Here he was attacked by
the Griqua chief, Berend-Berend, whom he defeated and killed. All this,
however, was but the beginning of a series of engagements. Two Zulu
armies in succession were sent after him as a recreant, one by Chaka,
and the other by his successor Dingan, but both failed to dislodge
him. His next assailants were the Boers, who were most anxious to get
rid of such a dangerous neighbour, and to drive him from the beautiful
Marico country, which they coveted for themselves. To accomplish their
aim they sent out a considerable force in 1836, and attacking the Zulu
at the foot of one of the hills, completely defeated him. Moselikatze
gathered together the little remnant of his force, including only
forty “ring-heads” (full grown warriors), and quitted the district,
making his way to the north, and laying waste the whole country as
he proceeded. It was his plan to found a new settlement on the other
side of the Zambesi; but the tsetse-fly did what it seemed forbidden
to human hand to do, and checked his career. He was in consequence
obliged to fall back, and began to attack first the Makalaka villages,
and then to carry his ravages on to the Manansas and others. His mode
of dealing with these agricultural settlements was to set fire to them
in the middle of the night, to kill the men as they rushed out of
their burning huts, and to carry off the women and children, as well
as the cattle. In this way his power began again to increase, until
after a while South Africa had a new Zulu empire. All the stolen boys
were brought up as soldiers, and such as were capable of bearing arms
were at once incorporated into the army; the women were given to the
warriors, the cattle being deemed the king’s special property, and
serving to maintain his ever increasing regiments. Whenever Moselikatze
observed any signs of his warriors treating the women better than
their cattle he came to the conclusion that the men were growing
effeminate, and at once gave peremptory orders for the dangerous women
to be slaughtered. During his annual marauding expeditions into the
neighbourhood, thousands of helpless creatures lost their lives, for
besides the men, all people incapable of work, young children, and
babies, and some of the women, were relentlessly massacred.
From my own observation, and from what I gathered from Mr. Mackenzie,
Westbeech, and the traders, I should describe the Matabele Zulu
government as a military despotism, with supreme control over every
man and beast, and every acre of land in the country. Each division of
the army is under the command of an “induna” or chief, with several
sub-chiefs holding commission as officers. The rank and file fulfil
their commanders’ orders with blind obedience, but the superior and
inferior chiefs are always at rivalry, and if they fail to win the
approbation of the king by their feats of bravery, they try and curry
favour with him by carrying him tales of slander against each other.
The king keeps several executioners, who perpetrate their deeds under
cover of night; and as the kaffir-corn beer which is served out
with the meat at supper rarely fails to induce a sound sleep, the
opportunity is readily found for what is known as “the king’s knife” to
do its work.
Mr. Mackenzie told me of an instance that will serve as an illustration
of what I have been saying. The bravest man in Moselikatze’s army was
Monyebe, one of the superior chiefs, who in acknowledgment of his
services had been rewarded by the king with a number of presents. This
so far aroused the jealousy of the other chiefs that they conspired to
accuse him to the king of witchcraft and treachery. Moselikatze allowed
himself to listen to their slander, and without giving Monyebe a chance
of exonerating himself, kept the accusation a thorough secret from him,
and gave permission to the chiefs to kill him. Next morning nothing
more remained of the king’s favourite than a few ashes smouldering at
the door of his hut.
[Illustration: MASARWAS DRINKING.]
When Mr. Mackenzie visited Matabele-land in 1863, he found very few
real Zulu soldiers; the flower of the army consisted of Bechuanas, who
as boys had either been stolen or exacted as tribute by Moselikatze
during his residence in the Transvaal, the younger regiments being
principally composed of Makalaka and Mashona lads recently enlisted.
In times of peace the boys are sent out to take care of the cattle, but
on their return home they are always carefully instructed in the use
of weapons. This constant exercise makes them so strong and muscular
that a Masarwa straight from the Kalahari Bushveldt, and another having
undergone his training with the Matabele, could not be recognized as
belonging to the same tribe. The Matabele warriors live in barracks,
and domestic life is quite unknown; only in very exceptional cases
is it allowable for any one but a chief to treat his wife otherwise
than as a slave, though it must be allowed that there is hardly any
appreciable difference between the two conditions. The king does not
prevent people of other tribes from practising their own religious
and superstitious ceremonies, subject to the general prohibition that
no subject of his may be a Christian. The ivory-traders followed the
missionaries into the country; they found a ready sale for guns and
ammunition, but the natives were little disposed to purchase any
articles of clothing.
Every year before starting on their expeditions of plunder the Matabele
perform their Pina ea Morimo, or religious war-dance. The warriors
assemble on the parade-ground in full military costume, their heads,
breasts, and loins being adorned with coverings made of black ostrich
feathers. A black bull is led forward and baited till it is angry; it
is then chased by the soldiers, until, covered with blood, it sinks
lame and exhausted to the ground; a few practised strokes then sever
the muscles; the flesh is stripped off in cutlets and held for a few
minutes before a fire, and the men proceed eagerly to devour the
half roasted meat, convinced that in swallowing it in this semi-raw
condition they are acquiring the strength and courage that will equip
them for their undertaking.
The European settlement on the Tati was surrounded by low hills, partly
formed of ferruginous mica, quartz, and granite, some being isolated
mounds, whilst others were portions of the slope of the river-valley. I
made excursions to them in all directions, although I was warned to be
on my guard against the lions that haunted the neighbourhood.
On arriving at the settlement I found that Pit Jacobs, like Mr. Brown,
was away from home. He had gone elephant-hunting with one of his sons.
I went to the hills next day and saw numbers of pits, some fifty feet
deep, that had been made by the diggers in their search for gold; and
on one hill to the north, contiguous to the slope of the Tati valley,
I found another ruin, consisting of the remains of a wall that formed
a rampart round the hill-top, joined on to a second wall three times
its size that ran round the next hill a little lower down. It was
over three feet thick, and, like what I had previously seen, made of
stones, blocks of iron mica, piled together without cement. On the
inside it could be seen how the erection was made of oblong lumps of
various dimensions, but outside, probably with some view to symmetry
and decoration, there had been inserted double rows of stone hewn into
a kind of tile, and placed obliquely one row at right angles to the
other. Each inclosure had an entrance facing the north, that of the
largest being protected by the wall on the right projecting outwards,
whilst on the left it curved inwards towards the centre. Altogether
the resemblance between these ruins and those we had seen before on
the Shasha was very striking; to my mind they conveyed the impression
that the walls might originally have been put up with some reference to
the gold that was being found in the locality; but I look for a future
visit, in which I may be able to make such investigations as may settle
whether they were erected by the Mashonas in the east or by the people
of Monopotapa.
Hearing on my return that Pit Jacobs had come home, I called and stayed
some hours with him. It could hardly be otherwise than with intense
interest that I listened to the recounting of the many episodes in
the experience of five-and-twenty years of a man who had acquired the
reputation of being the second-best elephant-hunter in all South Africa.
Numerous as lions are in other parts, I never heard of them being so
bold as they notoriously are in the neighbourhood of the Tati station.
The gold-diggers suffered greatly from their depredations, and they
had been known to get inside kraals enclosed by a thorn-fence six
feet high, and the same thickness at its base. Brown and Pit Jacobs
had often seen them prowling in the night in the space between their
houses, and one morning, while the mining operations were going on,
a native labourer on entering the coal-cellar to get fuel for the
engine, was pounced upon by a lion, that would certainly have torn him
to pieces if it had not been that it was old and its teeth blunt. On
another occasion a lioness had been shot at midday; and within the last
few days Mr. Brown’s horse had been dragged from the stable, which was
well protected by a strong fence, except on the side facing the house.
These are facts that illustrate the persistent daring of the lions in
the locality, and of which an example now came within my own experience.
[Illustration: LIONESS ATTACKING CATTLE ON THE TATI RIVER.]
I had occasion to make some purchases, and on the morning of the 2nd
of April called at the office of Mr. Brown’s foreman. Whilst we were
transacting our business, a negro came rushing in with the intelligence
that lions were among the cattle. No time was to be lost in giving
chase. I hurried with what speed I could down to our camp, nearly a
quarter of a mile away, to get my Snider and some cartridges, and
communicated the news to Bradshaw, who entered into the spirit of the
thing at once, and seized his double-barrelled muzzle-loader, a weapon
with which he had often done wonders. We quickly made up a party of
about twenty, including besides ourselves a lot of half-armed negroes,
Pit Jacobs’ son, and the half-caste hunter Africa, the two latter being
on horseback. Leaving the hill surmounted with the ruins on our left,
we worked our way up the river-valley, which was here from 200 to 300
yards wide, to a spot close to the river where there was a mass of
mimosas. On our way the negroes told us that the lions, only the day
before, had attacked some cattle down at a watering-place that had been
dug in the sand at the river-side, not very distant from where we were;
a lioness had seized a cow by the heel in a very unusual way, and had
dragged it to the ground. Acting upon this information, we turned our
course in that direction, and in a short time arrived at a mimosa, upon
which we were told that the terrified herdsmen had taken refuge on the
previous day. We discovered the herdsman’s dog still lingering near the
tree, and guided by its barking, we followed on to a glade, where, we
caught sight of the head of a cow above the long grass, and in another
moment ascertained that it was being mangled by a great lioness.
Without a word of warning, before we were aware of his intention,
Africa fired. No luckier shot was ever aimed. The bullet hit the brute
in the back, and shattered the vertebral column; it rolled over in the
grass behind its prey. The dog, which was famous among the Tati people
for its courage, and which already had been disturbing the lioness
at its meal, now darted forward, and seizing it by the ear drew back
the head, while the negroes pummelled away at its sides. The ill-fated
cow was not quite dead, although the lioness had begun to gnaw at its
entrails; we put the poor thing at once out of its misery. Africa was
kind enough to make me a present of the skin of the lioness.
Since I met Africa on the Chobe, Khame had banished him from the
Bamangwato country on account of his poaching propensities with regard
to elephants and ostriches; he had now come to Tati, and hoped to
induce Lo Bengula to accept payment from him and allow him to hunt
ostriches on his land.
Until the 7th my time was fully occupied in making a geological
investigation of the neighbourhood, and in making records of some of
the interesting adventures of Pit Jacobs, Bradshaw, and another Boer
hunter, who had just arrived. One day Africa received a visit from his
son, who brought him some puku-meat; he cautioned us to be more than
ever on our guard against lions, saying that at his own encampment,
only a few miles away, he hardly ever passed a night without being
disturbed by them. Another ivory-dealer arrived next day from the
south, by way of Shoshong; he seemed to be a keen man of business, but
nothing more; like other people, he complained of the number of lions
in the neighbourhood, and mentioned that water was scarce between this
place and Shoshong.
Westbeech arrived from Gubuluwayo on the following day. He was
accompanied by his friend Philipps, and by F., an ivory-trader.
Mr. Brown and his young bride returned likewise at the same
time. Westbeech brought a document attested by Lo Bengula’s mark,
granting permission for elephant-hunting on his western territory in
consideration of the payment of a salted carcase of a horse. Mr. Brown
and the trader both told me several things that entertained me about
Lo Bengula. The king had a very corpulent sister, who exercised a
very considerable influence over him. On being asked one day why she
did not get married, she replied that she was too fat to walk, and as
her brother was the only person in the country who kept a waggon, she
thought it was far better for her to remain where she was, and not to
entertain any idea of having a husband.
It is my own impression about Westbeech that he never turned to such
good account as he might the favour he enjoyed with Lo Bengula; I think
too that he yielded over much to Sepopo, and failed to manage Khame
judiciously. In the course of his twelve years’ residence amongst the
various tribes he had mastered all their languages in a way that could
not fail to give him a great advantage at the different courts. As a
proof of his familiarity with Lo Bengula, I was told that during his
last visit he and some friends (probably some of the ivory-traders, or
the two missionaries who resided in the vicinity of the royal quarters)
went to call upon the king just at the moment when the dish (which, by
the way, I may mention was rarely washed) was brought in containing
the dinner for the high table. Without waiting for any invitation,
Westbeech calmly proceeded to help himself, and to hand some of the
food to his companions. The indunas, who were waiting in expectation,
began to grumble; “George,” they said, “is treating the king like a
child.” “Yes,” replied Westbeech; “I have been trusted by Moselikatze
himself to drive his waggon and treat him as a child; and surely if
I may do this with Moselikatze, I may do it with his son too; I am
treating Lo Bengula as my child.” The answer seemed thoroughly to
satisfy the chiefs, and they clapped their hands in applause.
I asked the Masupia servant whom Westbeech had taken with him to
Gubuluwayo, whether the Matabele women were handsome? “O, not at all,”
was his answer; “they wear no aprons, and are not tattooed.” Their
well-built forms and comely features had evidently made no impression
upon the man.
Before closing my notes about Tati, I cannot help mentioning an
incident that occurred in Pit Jacobs’ house, in February, 1876. Jacobs
himself, with two of his sons and his elder daughter, had gone on a
hunting-excursion to South Matabele-land, leaving his wife, his younger
daughter, just now married to Mr. Brown, his two little boys, and a
Masarwa servant in the house. The house was what is locally known as
a “hartebeest” building, its four walls consisting of laths plastered
over with red brick earth, and covered in with a gabled roof made
of rafters thatched with grass. Inside, of the same material as the
walls, was a partition dividing the house into two apartments, of which
the larger was the living-room, and the other the sleeping-chamber
of the family. In the larger room, amongst other furniture, stood a
sewing-machine that Mr. Brown had just bought as a present for his
intended wife; in the other room, opposite the door, were two beds. On
this particular evening, the door of the house, which was made in two
parts, had the upper division open; the window in front was likewise
open, and a kitten was sitting on the sill. Mr. Brown had just called
to pay an evening visit, and Mrs. Jacobs had gone to put the two boys
to bed, laying herself down for a few minutes beside one of them.
Now the whole village was aware that a half-starved leopard was
haunting the place, trying one cattle-kraal after another, and doing
serious mischief amongst the poultry; every fence ought to have been
well guarded, but somehow or other the leopard had gained an entrance
into Jacobs’ enclosure, and catching sight of the kitten in the open
window, made a spring to seize it. The kitten, however, was not taken
unawares, but leaping from the window-sill hid itself under the
sewing-machine, and the leopard, missing its aim, bounded through the
window right into the middle of the room, where the two lovers were
sitting.
They called out in alarm, but were hardly more terrified than the brute
itself, which, in order to escape, rushed into the bedroom, and under
the bed where Mrs. Jacobs was lying. Catching sight of it, she cried
out to know what it was, and in order to pacify her, Mr. Brown and her
daughter replied that most likely it was a dog. Satisfied in her own
mind that a dog would not have made them scream out in such alarm, and
concluding that it was a hyæna, she started up, took the child by which
she was lying in her arms, and ran into the living-room.
[Illustration: LEOPARD IN PIT JACOBS’ HOUSE.
_Page 415._]
Finding that she had brought out only one of the little boys, Brown
thought it was best to tell her the truth, which made her so agitated
that she would have gone back quite unprotected to the other bed, if
she had not been prevented by force.
The immediate question now was how the brute could be disposed of.
There was a loaded elephant-gun hanging up inside the partition, but in
the commotion no one thought of it. Brown took hold of a kitchen-knife,
but afterwards it was remembered that the Masarwa servant had an old
assegai; the man was soon sent for; Brown took the spear; Miss Jacobs
held the lantern; Mrs. Jacobs clung to her daughter, and the servant
kept close behind. At the appearance of the light, the leopard was more
terrified than ever, and the hubbub of voices, English, Dutch, and
Sesarwa, only increased its alarm. Making a sudden spring it lighted on
the bed, where the child was sleeping. The little fellow slumbered on
peacefully, and knew nothing of what happened until the next morning.
With such an excited cluster of people at his elbow, it was not very
surprising that Brown made a bad aim with his assegai; the point merely
grazed the creature’s skin, and in an instant it flew at his breast, so
that he could feel its claws upon his neck; losing his balance he fell
over; the women came tumbling on him, dragging the old Masarwa on the
top of them all, the commotion putting the leopard into such a state of
bewilderment that it never used a fang, but bounded forth, first into
the other room, and then through the open portion of the door.
Thus relieved of their anxiety, and finding no harm done, they all
laughed heartily, and congratulated each other at the happy issue of an
adventure which might have had a tragical _dénouement_.
Leaving the Tati station on the 10th, we made our way through wooded
hills till we came again to the sandy Shasha, which receives the Tati
and many other tributaries of a similar character. Close to where we
halted, at the mouth of a dried-up spruit, there was a small deep pool
in the river-bed, containing crocodiles.
In the course of the next two days we crossed as many as fourteen
spruits that were affluents of the Shasha, Matliutse, and Seribe
rivers, our road all along being very bad, and obstructed with rocks.
One whole day we halted on the Matliutse, which now, instead of the
Tati, forms part of the boundary between the Matabele and Bamangwato
territories. Here there was an interesting double row of hills, some
being conical, and some perfectly hexagonal in shape.
The heat now became extremely oppressive, and after crossing the
Kutse-Khani and Lothlakane rivers, we halted by the bank of a third,
named the Gokwe, where our animals were encouraged to drink freely on
account of the dearth of water which we were led to expect during our
next stage. After passing a hilly country we came on the following
afternoon to the Serule, and caught sight of the chain of the Choppo
mountains running south to south-west, their highest points being at
the two extremities of the ridge.
On the 16th we entered the valley of the Palachwe, crossing the bed of
the Lotsane the same day. It is my belief that these two rivers unite
at the foot of the Choppo heights, and continue their course below the
northern declivity. The Lotsane ford was one of the most troublesome on
the whole way from Matabele-land, and some years ago had a bad name
amongst the hunters and ivory-traders, on account of its being haunted
by a large number of lions that were reputed to be unusually audacious.
The drive of the next day brought us through some hilly country, where
there were a good many rain-pools, only three of which, however,
retained any water in the winter. The second of the series was called
Lemone Pan, and both here, and at the next, we found Bamangwato
cattle-stations. Much to Z.’s discomfort, a number of Matabele people
had accompanied our caravan all the way from Tati.
At night we made our camp at the Chakane Pan, the last of the three
rain-pools, where we were told that Sechele was at war with the
Bakhatlas on his territory. As we were unable to kill any game, and the
provisions that we had brought from Tati were beginning to run short,
we slaughtered one of our reserve bullocks. After starting again we
crossed the Tawani, and found ourselves in the course of the night on
the bank of the sandy Mahalapsi river. Early in the morning we were at
the foot of the Bamangwato hills and close to Shoshong.
Being afraid to meet Khame, Z. parted company with us at this time, and
turned towards the Damara emigrants on the Limpopo.
Hearing that the prolonged drought had scorched up all the grass, and
that the Shoshong springs yielded hardly enough water to supply the
needs of the population, a good many of our party resolved to rest
where they were, and it was only a few of us who proceeded up the
Francis Joseph Valley to the town, which was reached after an easy
march.