Chapter II

The journey resumed--Halt on the Seruli--Bushmen on the
Gokwe--The Shashe--The Tati settlement--Adventure with a
lion--W. E. Oates returns to the coast; particulars of his
journey.

Frank Oates left Bamangwato on the 7th of August, and the following day joined his brother, who had been waiting for him a little way out of the town. In the evening the Makalapsi River was reached, where were a number of Dutchmen just returned from hunting on the Motloutsi, to the north of the Limpopo. They had got a number of rhinoceros, but no elephant. Continuing their journey the following morning, and subsequently crossing the Touani and Lotsani Rivers, the brothers reached the Palatswe River on the 12th. “The scenery here,” writes Frank Oates, “is very pretty. A row of low kopjes on the right, with large stones piled on one another, forms a natural terrace to the eastward, from which you look over a sea of green bush, with a few kopjes standing out from the midst.” Here goat’s milk was brought in a large tortoise-shell from a kraal somewhere near, and exchanged for a small piece of tobacco. Most of the natives carried guns, and game was scarce and wild.

Starting again the ensuing evening, and continuing their journey during the following day, they arrived early on the morning of the 15th at the Seruli River, where a water-pit, sunk in the dry sandy bed of the river, was found for watering the oxen. Here were a party of natives, living in the bush, hunting. They were said to be Bushmen. One of their number, who came to the waggon the following day, looked very striking--a leopard-skin thrown gracefully over his well-formed person, and a necklace of large lavender beads round his neck. Four days were spent by the brothers at the Seruli, whence they proceeded on their journey on the evening of the 19th, making a halt about midnight. From this point Frank Oates’s Journal takes up the story for the next few days--till their arrival at the Shashe on the 24th--as follows:--

“_August 20th._--Have coffee, and hear the monotonous call of the night-hawk, as we rest and let the cattle feed. W. called my attention yesterday, at close of day, to another (a clucking) note, which he says proceeds from the hornbill. We have been living, whilst at the Seruli, on ostrich eggs. Fried with a little meal is the best way we have had them, or made into a pudding with maizena. They are strong, unless nicely cooked. Started again at 2.30 A.M., and trekked for three hours. Horned moon and bright morning star in the east; horizon dark against the sky, already glowing with the pale orange of approaching morning, fading into the dark violet of the upper firmament. Notes of birds are heard. What a loss not to be able to appreciate beautiful things, as must be the case with our men, and how much less they affect me even than they used to do, when I seemed to find the world more full of hope and high ends to be attained than it looks now.

“Inspanned again about 8, and crossed the dry bed of a large stream, which continued to keep near the road on the right. It was full of sand, with plenty of bush and trees about it. Francolins abundant, also hornbills, and many other birds in numbers, so I think there must be water somewhere in it, or very near. Reached the Gokwe about noon, having gone nine miles. The trek was a slow one, and part of it being when the sun was getting high, the oxen were tired. Found good francolin shooting where we passed the last spur of the range along the river, and where we outspanned; sand-grouse coming to drink in the evening at the latter place. There was fresh giraffe spoor where we crossed the ‘spruit’[10] by the kopjes, and further on fresh lion spoor.... The people at the Gokwe are a sort of outcast race under the Basutos, called Bushmen. Men, women, and children came to the waggon. They have fine pack-oxen. They live in the bush, Hendrik says, having a sort of temporary abode near the bed of the river to the left of the road. They were ornamented with beads, and had on necklaces of blue cut ones and skins. They always ask for tobacco, making signs that they want snuff. They are hunting here. They brought ostrich eggs, exchanging them for a cheap knife, mirror, or handkerchief. I had great difficulty in buying an ostrich feather for about three or four pounds of lead. They wanted a whole bar, and on no other terms would bring more feathers.

“_August 21st._--Calm day, after a very windy night.... Started at 7.15 P.M., and went about seven miles, crossing two spruits, and outspanned for the night about 11.

“_August 22d._--Cool morning. Trekked from 6.30 to 10 A.M., the road twisting a good deal; say seven miles.... Stopped to rest, and inspanned again about 4 P.M., the road now winding through stony crags, and numbers of kopjes appearing to our right, to our left, and in front. Going a fair pace. Crossed the dry bed of the Seribi, apparently a very large river. Deep descent, sand very heavy, banks of river picturesquely wooded. We had seen lots of fresh lion spoor on the road before crossing the Seribi, and on this side I see more. Delicious fragrance from a sort of sallow-like blossom. Later, approaching the Motloutsi, we saw large numbers of sand-grouse flying both towards us and the opposite way--to and from the water. Finished trekking about 7, but did not outspan till much later, as when we entered the broad bed of the Motloutsi we stuck in the deep sand, and made many fruitless efforts to get out before outspanning. There was a little pool of water at which the oxen drank, and which the grouse resorted to. The sand around it was covered with feathers of birds.

“Sunset scene very lovely. In the foreground, brown bushes. Two little violet kopjes appear against the sky, behind one of which the sun has set. A lovely rose hue, deepest around the position of the sun, is on the horizon; this fades into violet, and this again into a pale greenish blue. Some very small, clearly defined, deep violet clouds, edged with gold, stand out from the sky.

“_August 23d._--Before daybreak the little sand-grouse were flying round, and a few settled to drink. I did not disturb them. The Motloutsi is a large river, with a very sandy bed, and here and there large rocks, and a twisting course. Hendrik says all these sandy rivers become dry or nearly so in winter. Both yellow and cream-coloured acacia blossoms very beautiful and sweet. Pleasant breeze where W.’s waggon is outspanned, mine being hot in the river-bed. Some people came here, but had neither eggs nor feathers for sale. As usual they carry muskets. It is a wonder they find anything to shoot, as they seem to be spread all over the country. At the Gokwe we were told that the Bamangwato hunters were hunting about in that district, but could get nothing. At this time of year the people seem to come out to hunt from all the kraals, leaving only those unfit for that work at home. A giraffe was killed near here by some Bushmen, who gave us meat in exchange for tobacco. When out this morning I saw some kind of melon, which at first looked like ostrich-eggs, growing by the river-bed--the kind, I think, which the oxen eat in times of drought.

“_August 24th._--Trekked for three hours, then rested, and started again at 11 A.M.... Reached the Shashe about two, and outspanned. We had come extremely slow; sun hot, sand heavy, road bad, bullocks tired. Ground broken and stony, and falling towards the Shashe. Many crags crop up around, and in front of us are some kopjes--Hendrik says where the Tati is. The Shashe is a very broad river, all deep sand, with water in one place where it has been dug for, both for cattle and people. We enlarge the hole (hard work under the heat of the sun), and let the cattle drink.... There is an old Bushman here, destitute and alone. He says the Mungwato men took his gun. The other side of the river, he says, is under Lobengula, this under Sekomi, and Hendrik says the Makalakas are not independent, all here belonging to the Matabele and Mungwato sovereignties. These Bushmen are, I suppose, the original inhabitants. Hendrik says they are slaves to the others. They certainly are outcasts. This man does not beg, takes what is given him, and lies naked with his head on a stone by the fire at night. He has no blanket.... Watched the Bushman make his fire with two sticks. He took off his sandals, placed a stick on one of them, and holding it firm with his foot, twisted the other stick rapidly between both hands, working it in a little hollow of the first stick, till black dust began to form. This soon turned red-hot, and there was fire like that in a pipe.”

Continuing their journey on the 26th, the brothers reached the Tati the same evening, where a small English settlement of a few huts has collected round the gold mines, which are being worked by Sir John Swinburne. “There is nothing remarkable in the scenery here,” writes Frank Oates soon after their arrival; “a few kopjes only, with low scrub and trees. Everything is very much dried up. The river is broad, with deep sand in its bed. Yesterday Nelson[11] gave me a live fish, four or five inches long, something like a perch. He says they live in the sand now. Water is got by digging in the river’s bed.... The veldt where we are outspanned,” he concludes, “is quite ploughed up with the spoor of elephants which used to come here five years ago, and have been found quite near here since.”

At this point Frank Oates and his brother remained a few days before separating, and on the 29th the former wrote home the following letter, giving some account of his future plans, and adding some particulars to his experiences above related:--

“... When we left Bamangwato,” he writes, “whence I last wrote, Buckley and Gilchrist went on with W. I followed two or three days later, having been busy seeing people and making arrangements. I soon picked W. up, who was waiting for me, the others having gone on in advance--of course, as we thought, to Tati. We, however, met a trader with a note from Buckley saying they had turned off at the Seruli River.... We have been here now two or three days, and to-night Buckley and Gilchrist arrived, having abandoned their new route.

“The road we have come crosses a number of sandy river-beds. These rivers are large streams in summer, but are now dry, except occasionally there is a little pool in some, or water may be sometimes obtained by digging. This tract of country through which we have come is called by the Dutch the ‘thirst land,’ and is now at its worst. On our return it will no doubt be easy enough to cross, but now it is hard work, especially for the oxen. We trek about three hours at a time, doing perhaps seven or eight miles in a trek. Generally two treks are enough in the twenty-four hours, one in the morning and one in the evening, but in going through the ‘thirst’ we have to push on and trek as much by night as possible.

“I was in advance of W. when I reached the Shashe, and, as it happened, had then only one man, Hendrik, my black servant, with me; for my driver and his boy had decamped, though they afterwards returned--as of course they were likely to do--the same evening. They will not have their wages paid till they return to Maritzburg, and then not unless they have behaved properly, and they would have had a miserable time if they had actually deserted me. Hendrik can drive, and knowing, as I did, the hold I had on the others and the folly of giving way, I let them go, telling them the sooner they left me the better, and the result of this treatment proved satisfactory. The difference originated in the driver asking me for tobacco when I told him to inspan, and refusing to comply till I had supplied him, which of course I would not do, as I treat them quite liberally enough, and indeed too well. Hendrik was a little poorly at the time, but behaved very well, and we reached the Shashe, where we dug for water.

“Being rather tired, we returned to the waggon after watering the oxen, without driving them away from the river first, which I know now we ought to have done on account of lions, but I have never yet thought it necessary to take such precautions except at night, when we tie them up and light fires. Soon after reaching the waggon I heard the loud cries of an ox in distress, and exclaiming to Hendrik that I thought a lion must be the cause, locked up my medicine chest, from which I was taking medicine for Hendrik, and seized my gun. Hendrik followed me, and we both ran to the river. As we peered over the bank, there we saw the ox, the largest and fattest in my span, lying in the grass at the bottom of the bank with a lion tearing him. He was only a few yards below me, and before I could distinguish the lion properly as it lay upon his prostrate form, the brute leapt off the ox and retreated across the river. I fired as he ran, and hit him hard, for he rolled over, and I ought to have given him the second barrel at once, but thinking him mortally wounded, I hesitated a moment, and in the next he had disappeared in the dry reeds. I did not like to follow him at once, and Hendrik would not accompany me, but tried to dissuade me from following him at all. However, in about half-an-hour I went in search of the brute, but never found it, and do not know what became of it.[12]

“I have yet been brought very little into contact with wild beasts, and have had few stirring incidents, but I have been pretty fully employed one way or another, and continue to persevere in my journey. I found on reaching here that it was too late to go to the Victoria Falls without risk of sickness, in which case I had long before decided to travel in a north-easterly direction to Mosilikatze’s country, the country of the Matabele, over whom Lobengula, son of Mosilikatze, now reigns. I am told I shall see some very beautiful scenery on my way there, and I am now interested in pursuing my journey as far as I can. From here to the King’s Town they call six days, but it will probably take me more.

“Here I have met two very nice fellows. One of them, Nelson, a Swede, is managing the mine of the Tati Gold Company. It is on a very small scale, and there are, I think, only seven white men here altogether. Brown, the other I refer to, has also some office connected with the mine, and keeps a store. They are both extremely kind, and willing to do anything to help one, and I expect to find more friends at the King’s Town--especially Mr. Thomson, the missionary, for whom I have a letter from Mr. Mackenzie, and another from Mr. Hepburn. I likewise carry the mail.

“A flower is almost an unheard-of thing at present, everything being dried up; but the thorny shrubs (mimosas), with their yellow sweet-scented blossoms, are an exception, and a sign of approaching spring. The shrubs they grow on are covered with long sharp thorns, and there are no leaves on them, but blossoms are appearing. There is another kind with hooked thorns and whitish sallow-scented blossoms, which attain the size of a good-sized English fruit-tree. The thorns which defend nearly every tree here are a great impediment in travelling through the bush.

“The nights are now cool, though not so sharp as they were a while ago. The thermometer seldom falls much below 50°. It is coolest just before sunrise. At mid-day and in the afternoon it gets considerably above 80° in the shade, in fact I should set the point reached at nearer 90°. As I sit writing in my tent, I hear the engine working--an odd sound up in these remote regions.”

Three days later, September 2d, W. E. Oates supplements this letter:--

“I am just adding a line to the above, to leave it before I go. Frank left the day before yesterday, to go to the King’s Town. The king (Lobengula) is the great nigger chief here, and behaves very well to all white men. I am staying with Buckley and Gilchrist, and we are now going to the Shashani River, about five days’ journey. I think Frank will be all right. He has a Cape Colony black man with him, who knows this country well, and speaks excellent English.[13] He was up here with Sir John Swinburne, who owns the gold-mine, so I am not afraid for Frank if he takes care of himself....

“The country here is regularly burnt up now, and will continue so till the rains fall in November. The river is nothing but a dry bed of sand, with a little pool of water in it about three miles off--the only water near for miles. You may imagine the luxury of a bath, under such circumstances, out of the question. There are two men here who have been very kind, one sending us milk twice a day--and, I can assure you, milk is exceedingly scarce. The country is most uninteresting; nothing to see but thick bush, composed chiefly of low thorn-trees with immense spikes, which hold you fast if you get amongst them.

“The only pleasant part of the day is from sunrise (about half-past six) to half-past eight. After that, the less you do the better until 5 P.M., when it is moderately cool again. At half-past six it is dark. The flies are a perfect plague all day, and get into everything. Towards the end of October there are some heavy thunder showers, and then summer begins, but the regular rains don’t fall until November. There are great numbers of hyænas and jackals, which prowl about the waggons all night. Last night one of Buckley’s oxen was ill, and the hyænas knowing it attacked him, and this morning we found they had actually eaten part of him alive. Of course the poor brute had to be shot. Unfortunately the hyæna escaped, though fired at by Buckley’s driver. The people are very glad when anybody shoots these animals, as they are constantly killing goats, and sometimes oxen. They are, however, so wary, that it is difficult to get them.

“Mr. Nelson, the manager of the mine, lent us some newspapers up to the 24th of May, the latest news we have seen from England. He also sent me a small bottle of beer, worth about five shillings here. Nelson is getting the king, Lobengula, some furniture from England, as he told the latter that a king ought not to sit on the ground. Lobengula’s country extends from here to the Zambesi, and he is an absolute despot, having the lives of all his people in his own hands. They say if one of the Matabele is found stealing from a white man he has him executed.”

Soon after writing the above, W. E. Oates left Tati in company with Messrs. Gilchrist and Buckley, to hunt on the Semokwe River, where they had very good sport. Returning thence in due time to the coast, they took the same route as that by which they had travelled north, the change of season, however, from winter to summer producing, as they returned, a remarkable change in the entire aspect of the country. By the end of October they were back at Bamangwato, and reached Pietermaritzburg on the 2d of January. A few extracts from W. E. Oates’s letters, written as they proceeded, may here be read with interest. He writes first from Bamangwato on November 3d as follows:--

“I arrived here with Buckley and Gilchrist about a week since, and shall probably make a start for Pretoria to-night. The spring has now commenced, and the grass is beginning to grow. There have been heavy thunderstorms, and the lightning is wonderful, never ceasing for a moment during the storms. The heat also is very great.... There has just been a row here. The old chief’s eldest son has left the place, and nearly the whole of Mungwato went with him. The chief himself, Sekomi, is still here, and often comes down to the waggons begging. He got quite drunk the other night, and tumbled under my waggon. We had to see him home. He thinks his son means to kill him. He himself killed two or three of his own brothers when he came to be chief, but his two eldest sons are both Christians, and Mackenzie thinks Sekomi is in no danger from them.... There are some nice flowers of the lily sort sprung up since the rain began, but very few flowers of other kinds yet. The rains, however, have only just commenced, and we shall have all the summer heat going down.”

Again, from Pretoria, he writes on December 5th:--

“I got here on the 2d instant, and great was my delight on receiving letters from home--the first I have had since leaving Pietermaritzburg.... It seems quite strange to be in a civilized place again. It is very pretty here now, just the height of summer. We are indulging in fruit and vegetables, eggs and milk, to all of which we have long been strangers. The peaches are hardly ripe yet, but apricots are to be bought for a shilling a hundred.... In coming from Mungwato we had to stop a week at the Meriko, as the river was very high with the rains and we couldn’t cross. I had some thoughts of taking my waggon in pieces, and floating the things across on rafts, but the water kept subsiding, and at last we got over, the water only just taking the oxen off their feet. In dry weather there is hardly any water, but after the rains the river gets tremendously swollen, and there are very steep banks. Whilst waiting there Dawnay[14] came up with two waggons. He has been out two years, and been to the Victoria Falls. He says it would be worth walking from Durban to see them. He showed me some little sketches he had made, but said it was almost impossible to draw on account of the flies. The tsetse-fly, which kills everything except men, wild beasts, and donkeys, swarms there, and bites so furiously that your hands and face are puffed up in no time. He describes the scenery on the Zambesi as lovely.

“The country is much prettier now than it was when we went up. The grass has sprung up and is quite green, and all the trees are in leaf. The Transvaal, from the Crocodile River here, is beautiful. All along the banks of the river are farms, belonging to the Dutch Boers, surrounded with orange and peach trees. At most of these you can now get milk, butter, and eggs. We have had heavy thunderstorms, which, seen at night, are most gorgeous; lightning all round, all colours, and darting in all directions at the same moment. It is just like a display of fireworks. It is much cooler now than we have lately had it, the thermometer seldom being above 90° in the shade, and the last few days there has been a nice breeze.

“My Kafir driver, who came up with me from Maritzburg, ran away when we were staying at the Meriko, and Bell and I had to drive the waggon down here. Fortunately they are very good oxen, so there has been no difficulty, and I have managed to get another driver here. Bullock-driving is quite a business in itself, and a very difficult thing in the bush with refractory beasts. This fellow, Solomon, stole a horse which we had found straying. It belonged to the old chief at Mungwato, and when I was going to hand the horse over to a Dutchman, whom Sekomi had authorised to take charge of the horse if he found him, Solomon went to the waggon where he was tied up, jumped on him, and galloped away. He will probably be caught, as the horse is well known.

“A ‘salted,’ or seasoned, horse is worth a great deal, as there is a sickness in the bush which is generally fatal to horses which are not ‘salted.’ It commences when the rains begin to fall. I much regretted losing my little horse. I was told, when I got him, he was salted, but he died after a few hours’ illness. There is no cure known for it. He was looking beautiful; his coat shone like satin, and he was getting quite fat with the young grass and some corn which I got for him at Mungwato. The oxen are thriving tremendously, and, since the grass has grown, from wretched skeletons they have become regular Tichbornes.

“I shall write to you again from Maritzburg, if there is a ship sailing before I go, for I expect I shall have to stay a fortnight or three weeks there, to sell the waggon, oxen, etc.... I mean to trek to-night when the moon gets up. We get into the high veldt now, where there is no bush. My waggon looks very seedy, the cover torn in many places by mimosa bushes, and the paint worn off. It is infested with beetles, and occasionally a lizard or scorpion is detected. Ants, too, occasionally pay me visits, to which I greatly object, as they bite uncommonly hard in this country. At night, if you are outspanned near water and have a lanthorn in the waggon, the candle is put out by numberless little beetles which creep in; and the frogs literally yell all night long. It is very pretty to see the fire-flies.”

On January 2d, as already stated, W. E. Oates reached Pietermaritzburg, where he found the heat very intense. Three weeks later he sailed from Durban, accompanied by Mr. Gilchrist, and landed in England early in the following March.