Chapter IX

Fresh start for the Zambesi--The Ramaqueban again--A
lion shot--Singular building--Wild fruit--First kraal of
the Makalakas--Stopped by the induna--Return to Tati--To
Gubuleweyo and back--Fresh leave obtained--Altered
arrangements for the journey.

On first leaving the Tati, on June 9th, the old ground, as though he had been making for Gubuleweyo, was retraced as far as the Ramaqueban River, where, on June 10th, the traveller halted a short time to hunt. Giraffe, quagga, and blue wildebeest were now abundant in this district, and ostriches were also met with. Van Roozen too, the day before they left, succeeded in shooting a lion which had threatened to attack his horse--a great feat for this intrepid sportsman. An account of this adventure, along with some other matter, is given in the traveller’s Journal of this date, as follows:--

“_June 12th._--Mild, cloudy day, after a very mild night.... Just before sundown Van Roozen returned from hunting, having shot a lion. It seems he had been following a sable antelope bull, and was about two or three miles from the waggon, down the Ramaqueban, when a lion approached his horse quite close. He yelled, and turned his horse. The lion retreated, but soon stopped and seemed inclined to renew the attack. He dismounted and shot the lion at, he says, about 30 yards. He then saw another lion creeping towards him--both ‘mannetjes’ (males)--and he (Van Roozen) made off. After his return he and I rode back together to the dead lion, which we found, and proceeded to skin. He was a yellow-maned one; Van Roozen says the black-maned one is quite distinct. In this the mane was short, the teeth very large and discoloured, but perfect, and the lion apparently in his prime, though he must have been hungry, as he was in poor condition. Van Roozen was alone when it happened, and he probably wanted to get the horse.

“Van Roozen tells me of an Englishman, named Brown, who was killed by a lion on the Crocodile River. One day this man and his son had found and taken three cubs, and the old lion came up to them. The son wanted to fire, but the father forbade him, and threw one cub down, which the old one took away, and they took the others to the waggon. The day following the old man took his gun, and said he was going after ostriches. He had one young Kafir boy with him. It seems he had gone to the place where the lions were, and had met the old one, which he fired at, but did not kill upon the spot--though I believe it was found dead afterwards. It had torn the flesh off one of his arms and both his legs, but he had taken his gun, gone to a hole where buffalo wallow, used his pannikin to wash his hands and face, and gone on to the waggon-road (the son followed the blood spoor). He had put his gun in a tree, and hung up his powder-flask, and gone on the road a hundred yards when he had dropped and died.”

The day after Van Roozen’s encounter with the lion, Frank Oates, whilst out hunting, again visited the carcass, and, kindling a fire, cooked some of the meat. On this the boys who were with him, and both his pointers, had a feast, and he tasted some of it himself, which he found to be coarse in the grain, and not unlike quagga meat.

Resuming his journey to the Zambesi later the same afternoon, he now broke fresh ground, keeping for a day or two in a northerly direction close to the Ramaqueban, a really magnificent river when viewed from the ground above, its broad sandy bed stretching far away into the distance through the veldt. The dry beds of a number of spruits, all rising quite near the river, and suddenly becoming large before falling into it, were crossed as he proceeded. It is no wonder that South African rivers, thus fed by so many tributaries along their entire course, fill with such amazing rapidity directly the rains fall, and swell into large streams almost at their source. Next turning towards the north-west, he presently struck across back towards the Tati River, and joined the more direct road from the settlement to the Zambesi, which here for some distance kept up the river’s bank, the country now assuming that broken rugged appearance--here with rough craggy kopjes, there with small open park-like glades--which makes at irregular intervals so pleasing a change in this otherwise little-varying landscape, and compensates, where it occurs, for much that is uninteresting.

The Tati, itself one of those rivers which become large so near their source, was again itself shortly left behind, the waggons trekking forward in a direction nearly north. On June 17th, a few miles further on, another river was crossed, and the following entry made in the traveller’s Journal:--

“_June 17th._--Fine morning, after a mild starry night; warm day. Inspanned at 6.20 A.M. I rode across the veldt to the right; grass very wet. Saw a small buck and three sassaybi, but they got my scent. Going in a direction generally north, I struck a deep sandy river, with plenty of water-holes in it, and banks steep and rocky in places; crossed it, and kept down it till I found the waggons, which had crossed it and outspanned perhaps a mile and a half further down. Just before reaching the waggons (8.20 A.M.), I came to a most singular building, built on a little isolated kopje in the midst of the level tree-studded veldt, but with other kopjes near. There has been an excellently-built wall running round the sides of the kopje, and a regular entrance into it. The boys say it was built in old times by the ancestors of the present race of Makalakas, and was the king’s residence. No white man, they say, helped to build it. It is not seen from the waggon-road.

“The river, which we outspanned at, and which (as before stated) contains plenty of water, flows away towards the south-west, as shown by the bent reeds in its now dry sandy bed.[43]

“Started again at 1.20 P.M. and went about eight miles; first through ‘mopani veldt,’ with fine fruit-trees in it, and a little before outspanning passed through a range of low kopjes. This ‘mopani’ is usually very heavy land, so called from the mopani trees (not unlike alders) which grow upon it. Of the fruit-trees referred to, one was my old glutinous friend of the Gwailo hunting veldt--plentiful, but not yet ripe. It is very woody, but when chewed exudes a fine glutinous gum. Another has a small fruit like a little rosy-cheeked apple, containing seeds, and something of the crab nature, but not at all acid. Another, which I should say was also of the apple kind, and like the last in taste and texture, was as large as a plum and of the same colour, and grew on a thick low bushy large-leaved tree.

“In the evening, where we were outspanned, I found a large colony of birds established in three large nests (half-built, I think) in the branch of a tall tree. This is the noisy familiar bird I first met with at Tati.”[44]

Proceeding forward on the following morning, still through the veldt of large mopani trees, and passing amongst numerous fine rocky kopjes--rising up on every side in bold craggy heaps from the level veldt, tree-covered like the latter wherever trees could find root--Frank Oates next crossed two or three small spruits, now dry, of which the largest was about five yards wide. At this there was a delay of about half an hour, caused by one of the waggons sticking in its sandy bed, and when he had crossed it he outspanned upon its bank. And here, as he rested--the Tati now well behind him, and his imagination full of hope in the future and interest in the present--it is likely enough he may have congratulated himself on the successful progress of his journey, but scarcely probable he should have reflected on the possibility that here, not many hundred yards from this very spot, he might but a few months hence, when returning from the Falls, find his last lonely resting-place; yet so he did.

Again, after a brief rest, renewing the journey about mid-day, he still advanced a short distance further in the same direction before coming to another halt; and here the Journal once more takes up the story:--

“_June 18th._--... Inspanned again about noon, and crossed another spruit with a sharp turn in it. Soon saw corn-fields, then the bright green of tobacco-fields and a kraal,[45] and outspanned at 1 P.M. I was pleased with the appearance of this little kraal, surrounded by its green fields of tobacco, and emerging suddenly to view from amidst the mopani trees; but I little thought of the disappointment in store for me here. Though we had trekked so short a time, and made our previous trek so short as to be scarcely worth mentioning, I almost decided to outspan here before I found that it was absolutely necessary I must. The people told us that there was a message from the king, which the induna would convey to me, but he was away at another kraal and must be sent for. Sent a boy with the oxen to water, which is some distance off, employing a man from the kraal as guide. Meantime I made it known that I wanted goats and corn, and ere long was hard at work dispensing beads, handkerchiefs, and snuff-boxes. The main run was on the large lavender beads, next came the small lavender ones, and a few wanted blue cut ones. Mealies were brought in large quantities, but sold principally in small basketfuls. There was plenty of Kafir corn too, but not so much as of the Indian corn. Tobacco also was brought, and the sweet kind of beans that are like nuts’ kernels.

“The women crowded round to sell. They were many of them recently smeared on their heads with something black like pitch, babies and all. Many of the girls have the hair matted thickly together in lumps. One hanging over the forehead, the end of the lock having brass rings fastened to it, droops down to the nose, and one to each ear. The hair is all drawn out in matted locks. A profusion of brass rings are worn on the arms, and heavy bead necklaces round the neck. Many of them are pretty. There are distinctly perceptible the dark and the light skinned; some nearly black, some copper-coloured. The men are much given to wearing carved charms and other ornaments and curiosities. A lion’s claw or a vulture’s beak are favourites amongst the latter division. They wear skins--karosses with the hair worn inside. John says there are both Masahras (Bushmen) and Makalakas here. I was surprised to hear from him that there are many Bushmen living in kraals and not wandering in the bush, as I had an idea they were exclusively a gipsy race, but it appears by no means so universally. The induna is an old Makalaka, who does not talk the Matabele language, but as it was not till the day after our arrival that I saw him, I will leave him for the present.

“Presently an individual arrived in white men’s clothes, who spoke a little Dutch. Without ceremony he jumped up on my waggon-box, and I concluded he was the induna from his free and easy style. I begged him to excuse me, as I was very busy buying corn, after he had asked John a question or two, as, ‘Was I going to the Zambesi?’ I never thought I was to be stopped, and went on buying corn, and he seemed glad to let me do so, till at last he came to his final interview--for much of the time he had been with Van Roozen. He then told me that the king had sent to stop all waggons from coming on, on account of the sickness, but the induna himself would be here the following morning. My feelings this evening were ones of intense disappointment, but still I hoped something from my interview with the induna the next day.

“_June 19th._--Very cloudy day, after a mild night; inclined to rain. The induna and a large crowd here early. I took down the substance of the induna’s words. They were thoroughly confirmatory of my worst fears. He said though they here would not stop me by main force, the kraals ahead would do so. _They_ spoke as my friends. If I persisted in going on, they would send to inform the king, who would despatch a party of Matabele to seize my waggons and take possession of my goods. I thought it best to take down the substance of what the induna said to me, in order to report it to the king. Umganulo, an induna, he stated, brought the following news from the king four days ago, and went back immediately:--All white men going to the Zambesi to be stopped, and their boys killed if they attempt going on with them; waggons to be taken to the king if orders are disobeyed. The king too has stopped people going by all other roads to the Zambesi, and messengers also passed here the day before yesterday, going on to the Zambesi, to tell all white men who are already there not to return till the rains fall, as they may bring sickness. The king has also said that no one may go across the veldt to him from here, but all must go by way of Tati.

“_June 21st_.--Rather cloudy, but fine. Got up about 5 A.M.... Girls here very early with corn; also some goats brought for sale, of which I bought two for a cotton blanket, also a little more corn, some leather bags, and a calabash. A tall lad, formerly a driver for Palmer, and a most free and easy individual, having relapsed into the national dress, offered his services to me as a hunter, if I should return this way. I ask John his character. John says he once took a knob-kerry to Mr. Palmer, when the latter wanted to thrash him. But he was not to blame for that, says John; a notion of John’s which I had to let him see did not meet my approval.

“Some of the girls who came to-day were very profusely ornamented with beads. The thickly-matted hair, plastered together with black wax-like cement, is disposed of (as I noted before) in three principal locks; one falling over the forehead to between the eyes, and one in front of each ear, surmounted with brass rings. The ears are pierced with small rings. Round the neck hang massive chains of beads, tastefully arranged and blended. A leather kaross, or dressed skin, is worn as a robe, and this is hung with long strings of beads. Long strings of beads too hang round the hips, and in front are long strips of leather. Round the waist are numerous brass rings and bead rings also. The girls are by no means shy.

“To-day poor Mozanga told me of some trouble he was in, and I thought he complained of a beating, but it seemed he had heard of the death of the induna of the kraal where I engaged him, a young man, who they say died in the Zambesi hunting veldt. He must have gone there at a very unhealthy time. Mozanga wept bitterly; he is a very kind-hearted boy.

“I went with Umfanimboozi to shoot some birds, whilst the oxen, which had got loose, were being fetched, and went through some tobacco ‘gardens.’ The pink blossoms and green leaves are very pretty....”

This same afternoon (June 21st) the traveller reluctantly commenced his journey back to Tati, resolved to revisit the king, and ascertain from his own lips the real truth of the induna’s statement. The fine clear nights, during a part of which he now made a point of trekking, were brilliant as he returned with glittering stars and constellations, the Southern Cross at this time conspicuous amongst the latter a little after sunset. Four days after starting he was back at the Tati settlement, and on the 30th of June started on horseback to the King’s Town, with eight boys to take his baggage.

On reaching the King’s, Lobengula tried to laugh the matter off, and this time, as an assurance of good faith, appointed one of his own people, a son of the headman, Manyami, to see him safe through the country of the Makalakas. Frank Oates was again back at Tati on the 15th of July, and here, before starting once more for the Zambesi, he made some fresh plans and arrangements for the journey. What these arrangements were may best be learned from the ensuing letter, written at this time from Tati, and containing, besides, some particulars of his recent journey to Gubuleweyo. This letter is as follows:--

“TATI, _July 21st, 1874_.

“I am, you see, at Tati once more.... I left here for the Zambesi on the 9th of June, and on the 18th--travelling very slowly, as I had lots of time before me--reached the first Makalaka kraal on the Zambesi road. Here I was stopped, being told that the king had sent a special order to turn all waggons back which might come that way. They also said that all waggons coming from the Zambesi were to be turned back, and not allowed to leave till the rains fell, which begin about October. It was in vain I pleaded that I had special leave from the king. They said their orders were peremptory--all waggons to be turned back, and if the people with them refused to obey, the waggons were to be seized, and all the boys who persisted in accompanying them killed. This of course frightened my Kafirs, and all I could do was to turn back, and go to the king in person.

“On the 25th of June I was once more at Tati, and decided to ride to the King’s Town, but a fresh difficulty arose in getting boys to go with me, as my own boys say the white men are the cause of all this trouble, for they bring the sickness, and they are afraid the king will kill them for accompanying white men. At last, however, this difficulty was surmounted, and I set off on the 30th of June with my two horses, and eight boys carrying my baggage. Gordon, a Mungwato trader, arrived at Tati _en route_ for the King’s whilst I was making my preparations, but says there were no letters there for me when he left. He could not go on even to the King’s without special leave, as the king has heard of ‘red-water,’ the Natal cattle disease, and is in a great fright about it. Indeed, if it got amongst his cattle, his nation would suffer terribly. It seems, too, from recent reports, that it is contagious, though we never used to think so.

“Dorehill’s waggon and the waggons of another trader had been stopped on their way to the King’s Town at the Inkwesi River, where the first Matabele kraal is, and were there when I came up.[46] I got on very well up to the time of my reaching these waggons, and stayed a couple of days at them with Dorehill, who was awaiting further news from the King’s. On leaving the waggons I met the messenger he had sent to the king returning with a message from the latter to Dorehill that he was to ride on and see him. I went on, but had great difficulty in keeping my boys from turning back. However, I explained to them that if they kept with me there was no likelihood of their being hurt, as no white man’s servants ever were interfered with, whereas, if they turned back, they might be killed. They would of course have liked me to turn back with them; but seeing I was determined to go on, they thought it was their best chance to remain in my company. I of course knew there was not much fear of anything being done to them as long as they were with me, as the king holds everything belonging to white men sacred, and his people dare not commit any violence on Kafirs protected by a white man. The fact is my boys were principally Makalakas, who are slaves to the Matabele, and whose lives are considered worthless.

“One night I was very angry with them, for I had been riding on in advance, and kept on riding after sundown, as the country for miles round was on fire, and I wanted to get past the fire before we encamped for the night. I lay down with my head on a log, to await their arrival, and fell asleep. By and by I woke up, and found it was colder than agreeable, and at once guessed that they had stopped behind. I had to ride back a good way before I came to their fire, when I pitched into them. They had been afraid to come on after sundown, as the Matabele don’t allow their subjects to travel by night, though of course a white man can do what he likes.

“The next day Dorehill overtook me. He had set off the day after me, but without food or blankets, and was very glad to share mine. The following day we rode on to Gubuleweyo, the King’s Town. The king seemed surprised to see me, but did not speak to me the first day I saw him, except to greet me, and send me to his sister to drink beer. The next day, when I told him what had occurred, he seemed rather amused than otherwise, and told me the Makalakas had been trying to frighten me, and that he had never sent them any order to stop waggons. I believe, however, he is the one to blame, and had probably neglected to send word to the Makalakas to let me pass. I had written to him from Tati for leave to go to the Zambesi, and he had given it, but could never have sent word about me to the Makalakas, who are his subjects, and very much given to stopping waggons that have not a special permit from him. He now gave me a Matabele boy, at my request, to accompany me.

“The little horse I sold him for £23 when last at his town had got over the sickness, as I fully expected he would, and was ‘salted,’ and must be now worth from £80 to £100. I should never have parted with him, had not Mr. Thomson advised me to do so, in order to ensure his goodwill in case I wanted to go to the Zambesi. It seems, however, that he did not do for me what he might have done, and it has been suggested to me that this was because I refused to sell him my gun also! I think I told you that I gave him a gun when first I saw him, but he wanted very much another I had, offering me £60 or £70 worth of ivory for it, but I persisted in refusing to let him have it, and then it was he asked for the horse, and would not let the subject drop till he got the animal, and got him at his own price. I am afraid he is very little better than the generality of Kafirs, and certainly I have experienced anything but generous treatment at his hands--indeed scarcely fair play. Yet there is no doubt that he is very much afraid of anything befalling white men in his country, either from sickness or any other cause; and now, when he told me to go to the Zambesi, he added, ‘Unless I was afraid of the sickness.’ This idea of sickness, and the new fear of a contagious cattle disease, brought by white men, are causing a good deal of trouble. Dorehill, however, got leave to take his waggon on, and intends to go to the Zambesi when he leaves the King’s. I rode back with Dorehill as far as his waggon, and there I met Mr. Thomson and his wife once more, returning to the Matabele after being absent at a missionary meeting at Kuruman.[47]

“On reaching Tati I had some more trouble, which has ended in my making fresh arrangements altogether. John, my Kafir driver, refused point-blank to go with me to the Zambesi, and though I could have compelled him to do so, I thought it best to be rid of such an unwilling servant. Brown’s waggons are starting for Potchefstroom to-morrow, and by them this letter is to be taken, which I hope will reach you by the end of September. John’s only chance of leaving is to get away with these waggons, and of course if I say the word Brown will not let him go near them, and he cannot possibly go alone. However, I told John I should not stop him, because I did not think him worth keeping, and he will leave with the waggons to-morrow. Then the Dutchman in two instances had acted very badly whilst I was travelling with him, and when I was obliged to return to Tati I secretly intended to get rid of him, though I did not tell him so.

“It was the 15th of July when I got back here from the King’s, and the very same day a trader arrived from the Zambesi, coming to get a fresh stock of goods. He had had to drive his own waggon, having lost his driver and other boys through being at the Zambesi in the unhealthy season. Indeed, he went there at what is supposed to be an extremely unhealthy time. I think it was February when he left here, and April and May are, I believe, the very worst months on the Zambesi. I left, as I have told you, early in June, intending to be back again before the end of the year, which every one says is the proper thing to do. Both Garland and Dawnay succeeded in seeing the Falls last year by doing so, and this year there are others who have probably seen them by this time. Now it is not too late to go there this season still, though the time one can spend there is shortened by not leaving earlier, for it takes about a month to reach the place where the waggons stand, and allowing another month for visiting the Falls, and a month for returning here, there is no doubt the Falls could be comfortably visited during a three months’ absence from Tati, and there would be nothing remarkable in doing it all in two months with good oxen and good servants. So I can still go there, and be back again as soon as I ever intended to be.

“I am now coming to my new arrangement, which I think is in many respects a very promising one, for a final attempt to reach the Falls. The trader I speak of (‘Stoffel Kennedy,’ or some such name), has actually been at the Falls. He was there with Garland last year, and knows the country well. He knows where the poison-plant is, and where the tsetse-fly. He knows the people of the country, and all its ins and outs. He is I think partly of Dutch or German origin, but is to all intents and purposes an Englishman, and is very much liked. He offered to postpone his own trading trip, and turn back at once with me to the Zambesi, guaranteeing to take me to the Falls if I would make it worth his while. He would then, he said, take me there and bring me back, not going as my servant, but undertaking the whole management of the expedition for me. Now I knew I should have one waggon and span of oxen to sell when I came from the Zambesi, and he was willing to take these now at a fair price, deducting the sum which he wanted as a reward for his services. I was a little time before I could make up my mind, but it seemed such a chance for me as I might not soon have again. As for the Dutchman, I had even gone so far at one time as to vow that, rather than set off again with him, I would give up the trip; and though I modified this resolve afterwards, yet I knew he was not so likely to get me to the Falls as this man who knows all the difficulties. Then I thought, after all the time I have spent in order to get to the Zambesi, and being still bent on going there, the best thing would be to embrace this opportunity. I should not even have had the Kafir, John, in the other case, but only the Dutchman and his son, who cannot speak the language, and with the former of whom I had had a most unpleasant row more than once.

“It ended in my entrusting my fortunes to the new man. Brown, I may add, thinks I have done well, and I have every confidence in his judgment. He is a man of whom I have the very highest opinion, and, indeed, the more I know of him, the more I like and admire him. Personally, I have experienced the greatest kindness from him at all times, and know how to appreciate it.

“Stoffel is going to take his own waggon and the ten oxen he bought of me, leaving the new waggon here.... Brown has just refused £110 for a little ‘horse’--of course you know ‘horse’ means ‘pony’ every time I use it--which he bought for £80. A good horse is worth anything to one here, and I cannot wonder at the price given for ‘salted’ horses. Suppose, for instance, I had had to go to the King’s on foot, and got foot-sore, where should I have been? The question is one not easily answered; but I suppose at any rate I should not have got on as well as I did. The absurdity is, that for a small insignificant-looking pony you have to pay the same price as for a good English hunter. A day or two ago we had some races here. We could only muster four horses, but by varying the riders and riding disputed races over again, we managed to get five races, in all of which I rode, and got the reputation of being a good jockey, as out of the five I rode in I won four.”

Favourable as the above arrangements seemed for a renewed attempt to reach the Falls, the traveller’s hopes, as will soon be seen, were again doomed to disappointment; and this in a most unlooked-for manner.