# Seven Years in South Africa/Volume 2/Chapter 1

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SEVEN YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICA.
THIRD JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR.
CHAPTER I.
FROM THE DIAMOND FIELD TO THE MOLAPO.
I was now standing on the threshold of my real design. After three years spent upon the glowing soil of the dark continent, the scene of the ​endurances and the renown of many an enthusiast, I had now arrived at the time for putting into execution the scheme I had projected. My feelings necessarily were of a very mingled character. Was I sufficiently inured to the hardships that could not be separated from the undertaking? Could I fairly indulge the hope of reaching the goal for which I had so long forsaken home, kindred, and friends? The experience of my two preliminary journeys made me venture to answer both these questions without misgiving. I had certainly gained a considerable insight into the nature of the country; I had learned the character of the contingencies that might arise from the disposition of the natives and their mode of dealing, and I had satisfied myself of the necessity as well as the comfort of having trustworthy associates on whom I could rely. Altogether I felt justified in commencing what I designed to be really a journey of exploration. At the same time I could not be otherwise than alive to the probability that some unforeseen difficulty might arise which no human effort could surmount.
It was a conflict of hopes and fears, but the picture of the Atlantic at Loanda seemed to unfold itself to my gaze, and its attraction was irresistible; hitherto in my lesser enterprises I had been favoured by fortune, and why should she now cease to smile? I felt that there was everything to encourage me, and definitely resolved to face the difficulties that an expedition into the interior of Africa cannot fail to entail. 🞽🞽🞽🞽🞽 It was on the 2nd of March, 1875, that I left ​Dutoitspan. I went first of all to a friend at Bultfontein, intending to stay with him until the 6th, and there to complete my preparations. Not alone was it my scheme to explore Southern-Central Africa, but I hardly expected to return to Cape Colony at all, consequently my arrangements on leaving this time were rather more complicated than they had been on the two previous occasions.
Quitting Bultfontein on the day proposed, I proceeded for eleven miles, and made my first halt by the side of a sandy rain-pool, enclosed by the rising ground that was visible from the diamond-fields. We slept in the mimosa woods, through which the road to the Transvaal runs for several miles, and the deep sand of which is so troublesome to vehicles.
On the 7th we passed the Rietvley and Keyle farms, around which we saw a good many herds of springbocks in the meadow-lands.
The next day’s march took us by the farms at Rietfontein, and Pan Place, and we made our night camp on Coetze’s land. Near these farms, which lay at the foot of the considerable hill called the Plat Berg, I secured some feathered game, amongst which was a partridge. To me the most interesting spot in the day’s journey was a marshy place on Coetze’s farm; it was a pond with a number of creeks and various little islands, which were the habitat of water-fowl, particularly wild ducks, moor-hens, and divers. In the evening I called upon Mynheer Coetze, and in the course of conversation mentioned his ponds with their numerous birds. He surprised me somewhat by his reply. “Yes,” he said, “the birds breed there, and we ​never disturb them; we allow strangers to shoot them, but for our own part we like to see them flying about.” I admired his sentiment, and wished that it was more shared by the Dutch farmers in general.
POND NEAR COETZE’S FARM.
The property was partially wooded, and extended both into Griqualand West and into the Orange Free State. Amongst other game upon it, there was a large herd of striped gnus.
On the next day but one we made the difficult passage of the Vaal at Blignaut’s Pont. From the two river-banks I obtained some skins of birds, and several varieties of leaf-beetles (Platycorynus). ​At the ferry, on the shore by which we arrived, stood a medley of clay huts, warped by the wind, and propped up on all sides, claiming to be an hotel; on the further shores were a few Koranna huts, the occupiers of which were the ferrymen. For taking us across the river they demanded on behalf of their employer the sum of twenty-five shillings.
The rain had made the ground very heavy, and it was after a very tedious ride that we reached Christiana, the little Transvaal town with which the reader has been already made acquainted, and made our way to Hallwater Farm (erroneously called Monomotapa), where we obtained a supply of salt from the resident Korannas.
We next took a northerly course, and passed through Strengfontein, a farm belonging to Mynheer Weber, lying to the east of the territory of the independent Korannas. The country beyond was well pastured, and contained several farmsteads; although it was claimed by the Korannas, by Gassibone, by Mankuruane, and by the Transvaal government, it had no real ruler. The woods afforded shelter for duykerbocks, hartebeests, and both black and striped gnus, whilst the plains abounded with springbocks, bustards, and many small birds.
After passing Dreifontein, a farm that had only a short time previously been reduced to ashes by the natives from the surrounding heights, we encamped on the Houmansvley, that lay a litle further ahead. Near the remains of the place were some huts, from which some Koranna women came out, their intrusive behaviour being in marked con​trast with that of some Batlapins, who modestly retired into the background. Not far off was a vley, or marshy pond, where I found some wild ducks, grey herons, and long-eared swamp-owls (Otus capensis). Houmansvley was the last of the farms we had to pass before we entered the territory of the Korannas of Mamusa.
GRAVES UNDER THE CAMEL-THORN TREES AT MAMUSA.
We reached the Harts River valley on the evening of the 15th. Before getting to the river we had to traverse a slope overgrown with grass, and in some places with acacias which must be a hundred years old, and under the shadow of which were some Batlapin and Koranna graves, most of them in a good state of preservation. The river​bed is very often perfectly dry, but as the stream was very much swollen, the current was too strong to allow us to cross without waiting for it to subside; the district, however, was so attractive that it was by no means to be regretted that we were temporarily delayed. The high plateau, with its background of woods, projected like a tongue into the valley, and opposite to us, about three-quarters of a mile to the right, rose the Mamusa hills.
We visited Mamusa, encamping on its little river a short distance from the merchants’ offices under the eastern slope of the hills. A few years back it had been one of the most populous places representing the Hottentot element in South Africa, but now it was abandoned to a few of the descendants of the aged king Mashon and their servants. Some of the people had carried off their herds to the pasture-lands; others had left the place for good, to settle on the affluents of the Mokara and the Konana, on the plains abounding in game that stretched northwards towards the Molapo. This small Koranna principality is an enclave in the southern Bechuana kingdoms, a circumstance which is not at all to their advantage, as any mixture of the Hottentot and Bantu elements is sure to result in the degeneration of the latter.
The merchants received me most kindly. One of them, Mr. Mergusson, was a naturalist, and amused himself by taming wild birds. He showed me several piles, at least three feet high, of the skins of antelopes, gnus, and zebras, which he intended taking to Bloemhof for sale. He and his brother had twice extended their business-journeys as far as Lake Ngami.
​While in the neighbourhood, I heard tidings of the two dishonest servants that I had hired at Musemanyana, and who had decamped after robbing me on my second journey. Leaving Mamusa on the 17th, we had to mount the bushy highland, dotted here and there with Koranna farmsteads, andin the evening reached the southern end of the grassy quagga-flats. The soil was so much sodden with rain, that in many places the plains were transformed into marshes; on the drier parts light specks were visible, which on nearer approach turned out to be springbock gazelles. On every side the traveller was greeted by the melodious notes of the crowned crane, and the birds, less shy here than elsewhere, allowed him to come in such close proximity, that he could admire the beauty of their plumage. The cackle of the spurred and Hgyptian geese could be heard now in one spot and now in another, and wildducks, either in rows or in pairs, hovered above our heads.
Our next march afforded us good sport. It was rather laborious, but our exertions were well rewarded, as amongst other booty, we secured a silver heron, some plovers, and some snipes. I had our camp pitched by the side of a broad salt-water lake, proposing to remain there for several days, the surrounding animal-life promising not merely a choice provision for our table, but some valuable acquisitions for my collection.
SHOOTING WILD GEESE AT MOFFAT’S SALT PAN. :
| VOL. II. | SHOOTING WILD GEESE AT MOFFAT’S SALT PAN. | Page 9. |
We were not long out. We returned to breakfast, and while we were taking our meal we caught sight of a herd of blessbocks, numbering at least 250 head, grazing in the depression of the hills on the opposite shore. Breakfast, of course, was forgotten and left unfinished. Off we started; the chase was long, but it was unattended with success. Our toil, however, was not entirely without compensation, as on our return we secured a fine grey crane. Pit likewise in the course of the day shot several birds, and in the afternoon excited our interest by saying that he had discovered the nest of a royal crane.
I went to the reedy pool to which he directed me, about a mile and a half to the north of our place of encampment, and on a little islet hardly more than seven feet square, sure enough was a hollow forming the nest, which contained two long white eggs, each about the size of my fist. I took the measurement of the nest, and found it as nearly as possible thirty inches in diameter, and six inches deep.
While I was resting one afternoon in a glen between the hills, I noticed a repetition of what I had observed already in the course of my second journey, namely, that springbocks, in going to drink, act as pioneers for other game, and that blessbocks and genus follow in their wake, but only when it has been ascertained that all is safe.
HUNTING AMONG THE ROCKS AT MOLEMA. :
| VOL. II. | HUNTING AMONG THE ROCKS AT MOLEMA. | Page 11. |
In the evening we passed a wood where a Batlapin hunting-party, consisting of Mankuruane’s people, had made their camp. They commenced at once to importune us for brandy, first in wheedling, and then in threatening tones.
Game, which seemed to have been failing us for a day or two, became on the 25th again very abundant. The bush was also thicker. A herd of nearly 400 springbocks that were grazing not far ahead, precisely across the grassy road, scampered off with great speed, but not before Theunissen had had the good luck to bring down a full-grown doe. As we entered upon the district of the Maritsana River, the bushveldt continued to grow denser, and the country made a perceptible dip to the north-west. Several rain-glens had to be crossed, and some broad shallow valleys, luxuriantly overgrown, one of which I named the Hartebeest Vale. In the afternoon we reached the deep valley of the Maritsana. On the right hand slope stood a Barolong-Makalahari village, ​the inhabitants of which were engaged in tending the flocks belonging to Molema’s Town. The valley itself was in many parts very bushy, and no doubt abounded in small game, whilst the small pools from two feet to eight feet deep in the river-bed, here partaking of the nature of a spruit, contained Orange River fish, lizards, and crabs; two kinds of ducks were generally to be seen upon them.
As we passed through a mimosa wood on the morning after, we met two Barolongs, who not only made me aware how near we had come to Molema’s Town, but informed me that Montsua was there, having arrived to preside over a trial in a poisoning case. I had not formed the intention of going into the place, but the information made me resolve to deviate a little from my route, that I might pay my respects to the king and his brother Molema.
Descending the Lothlakane valley, where Montsua was anxious that his heir should fix his residence, we reached the town on the 28th. The Molapo was rather fuller than when I was here last, but we managed to cross the rocky ford, and pitched our camp on the same spot that I had chosen in 1873.
As soon as I heard that the judicial sitting had adjourned, I lost no time in paying my personal respects to the Barolong authorities. I found the king with Molema and several other chiefs at their mid-day meal, some sitting on wooden stools and some upon the ground; but no sooner were they made acquainted with my arrival, than they hastened to show signs of unfeigned pleasure, making me shake hands with them again and again. Montsua at once began to talk about the ​cures I had effected at Moshaneng, and begged me to stay for at least a few days. After spending a short time in Molema’s courtyard, we all adjourned to the house of his son, which was fitted up in European style, and where we had some coffee served in tin cups. Molema was upon the whole strong and active, but he was still subject to fits of asthma, and requested me to supply him with more medicine like that he had had before; and so grateful was he for my services, that he gave me a couple of good draught-oxen, one of which I exchanged with his son Matye for an English saddle.
Molema is a thin, slight man of middle height, with a nose like a hawk’s beak, which, in conjunction with a keen, restless eye, gives to his whole countenance a peculiarly searching expression. At times he is somewhat stern, but in a general way he is very indulgent to his subjects, who submit implicitly to his authority; this was illustrated in the issue of the cause over which Montsua was now visiting him to preside. He is very considerate for his invalid wife, and, considering his age, he is vigorous both in mind and body; although his sons and the upper class residents of the town have adopted the European mode of fitting up their houses, he persists in adhering to the native style of architecture.
During our stay here, Mr. Webb had to perform the marriage service for three couples; one of the bridegrooms had a remarkable name, the English rendering of which would be “he lies in bed.” Singular names of this character are by no means unusual among the Bechuana children, any accidental circumstance connected with their parentage or ​birth being seized upon to provide the personal designation for life. Taking a stroll through the place late in the evening, I heard the sound of hymns sung by four men and ten women, bringing the wedding observances to a close.
BABOON ROCKS.
Wandering about the town, I noticed that although the garments worn were chiefly of European manufacture, the inhabitants very frequently were dressed in skins either of the goat, the wild cat, the grey fox, or the duyker gazelle. Boys generally had a sheepskin or goatskin thrown across their shoulders, although occasionally the skin of a young lion took its place; girls, besides their leather aprons, nearly always covered themselves with an antelope-hide.
​As far as I could learn, the disputes between the Transvaal government and the Barolongs had in great measure subsided, owing to Montsua having threatened, in consequence of the encroachments of the Boers, to allow the English flag to be planted in his villages.
I have already referred to the trial which had brought Montsua to the town, and in order that I may convey a fair idea of the way in which Bechuana justice is administered, I will give a brief outline of the whole transaction.
A Barolong, quite advanced in years, had set his affections upon a fatherless girl of fifteen, living in the town; she peremptorily refused to become his wife, and as he could not afford to buy her, he devised a cunning stratagem to obtain her. He offered his hand to the girl’s mother, who did not hesitate to accept him; by thus marrying the mother, he secured the residence of the daughter in his own quarters; the near intercourse, he hoped, would overcome her repugnance to himself; but neither his appearance nor his conversation, mainly relating to his wealth in cattle, had the least effect in altering her disposition towards him. Accordingly, he resorted to the linyaka. Aware of the pains that were being taken to force her into the marriage, the girl carefully avoided every action that could be interpreted as a sign of regard. As she was starting off to the fields one morning to her usual work, her stepfather called her back, and if her own story were true, the following conversation took place,—
“I know you hate me,” he said.
“E-he, e-he!” she assented.
​“Well, well, so it must be!” he answered, but he stamped his staff with rage upon the ground.
“Yes, so it must be,” replied she.
“But you must promise me,” he continued, “that you will not marry another husband.”
“Na-ya,” she cried, bursting out laughing, “na-ya.”
“Then I’ll poison you,” he yelled.
The girl, according to her own account, was alarmed, and went and told her mother and another woman who were working close by the river. They tried to reassure her, telling her that her stepfather was only in joke, but they did not allay her apprehensions.
That very evening, while she was taking her simple supper of water-melon, he called her off and sent her on some message; when she returned she finished her meal, but in the course of an hour or two she was writhing in most violent agony. In the height of her sufferings, she reminded her mother and the friends who gathered round her of what had transpired in the morning. Her shrieks of pain grew louder and louder, and when they were silenced, she was unconscious. Before midnight she was a corpse.
The stepfather was of course marked out as the murderer; the evidence to be produced against him seemed incontestible; the old man had actually been seen gathering leaves and tubers in the forenoon, which he had afterwards boiled in his own courtyard.
The accused, however, was one of Molema’s adherents; he had served him faithfully for half a century, and Molema accordingly felt it his duty to ​do everything in his power to protect him, and so sent over to Moshaneng for Montsua to come and take the office of judge at the trial. He was in the midst of the inquiry when I arrived.
Meanwhile, the defendant had complete liberty he might for the time be shunned by the population, but he walked about the streets as usual, trusting thoroughly to Molema’s clemency and influence, and certain that he should be able to buy himself off with a few bullocks.
The trial lasted for two days; after each sitting the court was entertained with bochabe, a sort of meal-pap.
The evidence was conclusive; the verdict of “guilty” was unanimous. Montsua said he should have been bound to pass a sentence of death, but Molema had assured him there were many extenuating circumstances; and, taking all things into account, he considered it best to leave the actual sentence in his hands. Molema told the convicted man to keep out of the way for a few days until Montsua had ceased to think about the matter, and then sending for him, as he strolled about, passed the judgment that he should forfeit a cow as a peace-offering to the deceased girl’s next-of-kin, the next-of-kin in this case being his wife and himself!
Before quitting the place, I went to take my leave of Mr. Webb. While I was with him a dark form presented itself in the doorway, which I quickly recognized as none other than King Montsua. He had followed me, and, advancing straight to my side, put five English shillings into my hand, requesting me to give him some more of the physic ​which had done his wife so much good at the time of my visit to Moshaneng.
On the afternoon of the 2nd of April we left Molema’s Town, to proceed up the valley of the Molapo. Next morning we passed the last of the kraals in this direction, in a settlement under the jurisdiction of Linkoo, a brother of Molema’s.
Early morning on this day was extremely cold, and the keen south-east wind made us glad to put on some overcoats. We made a halt at Rietvley, the most westerly of the Molapo farms in the Jacobsdal district, the owner of which was a Boer of the name of Van Zyl, a brother of the Damara emigrant to whom I shall have subsequently to refer.
From this point the farms lay in close proximity to each other, as far as the sources of the Molapo. The river valley extended for about twenty-two miles towards the east, retaining its marshy character throughout, but growing gradually narrower as its banks became more steep and wooded. Although its scenery cannot be said to rank with the most attractive parts of the western frontier of the Transvaal, yet, for any traveller, whether he be ornithologist, botanist, or sportsman, the valley is well worth a visit.
The waggon-track which we had been following led, by way of Jacobsdal and Zeerust, direct to the Baharutse kraal Linokana, by which I had made up my mind to pass. We kept along the road as far as Taylor’s farm, “Olive-wood-dry,” where the density of the forest and the steepness of the slopes obliged us to leave the valley, and betake ourselves to the table-land. Olive-wood-dry is unquestionably one ​of the finest farms on the upper Molapo; it has a good garden, and is watered by one of the most important of the springs that feed the river, whilst the rich vegetation in the valley, thoroughly protected as it is from cold winds, forms quite an oasis in the plateau of the western Transvaal. A dreary contrast to this was the aspect of the Bootfontein farm, where the people seemed to vegetate rather than to thrive.
In the evening we crossed the water-shed between the Orange River and the Limpopo, and spent the night near a small spruit, one of the left-hand affiuents of the Malmani, which I named the Burgerspruit. Next day we entered the pretty valley of the Malmani, the richly-wooded slopes of which looked cheerful with the numerous farms that covered them.
Quitting the Malmani valley on the 5th, we journeyed on eastwards past Newport farm, along a plain where the grass was short and sour. In the east and north-east could be seen the many spurs of the Marico hills; the hills, too, of the Khame or Hieronymus district were quite distinct in the distance, all combining to form one of the finest pieces of scenery in what may be called the South African mountain system.
The slope towards the side valley, which we should have to descend in order to reach the main valley, was characterized by a craggy double hill, to which I gave the name of Rohlfsberg. Further down, I noticed a saddle-shaped eminence, which I called the Zizka-saddle. The descent was somewhat difficult, on account of the ledges of rock, but we were amply compensated by the splendid scenery, the ​finest bit, I think, being that at Buffalo’s-Hump farm, where in the far distance rises the outline of the Staarsattel hills.
By the evening we reached the valley of the Little Marico, and the Weltufrede farm. This belongs to Mynheer von Groomen, one of the wealthiest Boers in the district. His sons have been elephant-hunters for years, and have met with exceptional success, having managed to earn a livelihood by the pursuit. In the paddock of the farm they showed me a young giraffe that they had brought home with them from one of their expeditions.