Chapter III

Frank Oates proceeds to the King’s Town--Crosses the
Ramaqueban--Dutch hunters on the Impakwe--The Inkwesi;
picturesque scenery--John Lee’s farm--Manyami’s kraal--The
Shashani--Fine country--Kumala River.

Returning now to follow Frank Oates’s journey to the King’s Town, Gubuleweyo, we find the greater portion of his route described at some length in his Journal. Leaving the Tati, as has been mentioned, on the 31st of August, and advancing slowly, he crossed the Ramaqueban, Impakwe, and Inkwesi Rivers, and reached John Lee’s farm on September 6th. This John Lee is a noted Dutchman, who farms a large tract of country under the king. From here proceeding after a night’s rest on his journey, he was detained four days at Manyami’s kraal, a few miles further on, till leave had been obtained for him from the king to complete the distance, Gubuleweyo being reached by the middle of September. The Journal of this period is as follows:--

London: C. Kegan Paul & Co.]

“_August 31st._--... Left Tati in the evening. About midnight, whilst trekking, Hendrik calls me, saying that the bullocks which are being driven can’t be got on, but keep going into the bush. ‘Donker’ and ‘Wildeman,’ too (the little red wild ox), are getting tired. This is miserable work, and I wish I had brought more bullocks from Mungwato, as I could so well have done, and a far lighter waggon. It is a mild, pleasant, breezy night, and as we outspan, and ‘Rail’ and ‘Rock’ come up in their couples, I am reminded of our first trekking on the high veldt, when we were together in force, starting with a good equipment and high hopes. This is an open space where we outspan, with long grass.

“_September 1st._--Mild, cloudy morning.... I had been much discouraged by the oxen being so tired last night, and this morning was pleased to find ourselves arrive at the Ramaqueban River at least an hour sooner than I had hoped. Petersen’s waggon was on the opposite side.[15] However, we stuck in the drift. Poor ‘Weiman,’ with his blind eye, was in front, and proved awkward, and little ‘Vinal’ lay down. Petersen, however, sent his driver and two good oxen, and we came out easily and had breakfast. Here some Dutchmen squatted last season to hunt, and took the fever--men, women, and children. Petersen says about half-a-dozen of them died. He thinks it was in January. The trees along the river’s bed show a faint budding of green, as I have now seen for some time. The girl who came with us to Tati was travelling on with Petersen, and her brother had come on with us last night to join her. The cool breeze to-day was very pleasant. Petersen’s boys had dug for water. Petersen went on, as he usually makes one short trek during the day. I followed in the evening, and shortly after midnight crossed the drift of the Impakwe and outspanned. There seems plenty of water in the river. Barking of dogs; encampment of Dutch hunters. Petersen had turned in. Part of this trek was through a somewhat sandy country, but on the whole we are on a much firmer road than we were before reaching Tati. Pitched into marmalade; it is wonderful how much one enjoys such things here, where the coffee is without milk, the bread without butter, and the meat dry as chips.

“_September 2d._--Pleasant breeze. Petersen called me. I find I am likely to have great luck. Here lives the Dutchman whose family suffered so much from fever on the Ramaqueban. He has built a straw hut, cool, roomy, and snug, with a higher entrance than the Kafir huts, but shaped like them. His wife and family are with him, his eldest married daughter, and members of the next generation. He has cattle and goats, does his own blacksmith’s work, and hunts. They go as soon as the unhealthy season begins to John Lee’s. They intend, in four years I think, to return to their farm on the Meriko. Petersen acted as interpreter, and it is arranged that I wait for the Dutchman, who intends going to-morrow in my direction to get wood and hunt. He will lend me some oxen. I believe it is nothing but the brackish water, especially the Seruli water, that has made such a mess of my oxen. The Dutchman says there is plenty of game along the road.... Noticed when out in the afternoon, and we crossed the river-bed, how easily the water rose, when one of the boys scooped out a hole with his hands; very different from the dry river-beds the other side Tati.

“_September 3d._--Morning felt very chilly. Breakfast on ‘biltong’[16] and butter; the fresh butter excellent. We branded and left ‘Rondeberg,’ ‘Engeland,’ and ‘Vinal.’ The Boer put twelve of his bullocks into my waggon, eight of mine in his, and ‘Donker,’ ‘Wildeman,’ and ‘Spot’ were driven.... Trekked about twelve miles, from the Impakewe to the Inkwesi River, and outspanned about 6 P.M.

“_September 4th._--Cup of coffee, and went out about 8 A.M., I and the old man riding, his son walking ahead, and two of their men (Makalakas) accompanying us.... I do not admire the Matabele particularly. They are independent-looking and well made, but I do not like their countenances. The day following there were a great many about the waggons, attracted by the flesh. They eat like dogs, greedily. Beyond this river, which the Dutchman calls Makobi’s, there was a tribe of Mungwato people massacred some thirty or forty years ago by the Matabele; Makobi, the chief, being amongst the slain. They were killed--men, women, and children--to obtain possession of their land. A few only escaped.

“The scenery about our camp is picturesque. The kopjes rise abruptly, and the river has steep craggy banks. There is an approach here to American scenery. What a wonderful difference is made in one’s feelings by the constant impression caused by fine scenery! South Africa is sadly dull and monotonous, and I believe the influence is a bad one, and the loss of scenery has a depressing effect on the spirits; one’s imagination is never called into play.... I still admire the scenery, as we ride along home amongst the kopjes by the river. Here and there the large fleshy-leaved shrub,[17] standing boldly out amongst the bare crags, is very striking. There is something here which might remind one a little of Central America, but somehow the charm is wanting.

“_September 5th._--... Inspanned at 7 P.M., and crossed the river. Stony and deep descent and ascent, with very deep sand; very hard work. I feel deeply indebted to the Dutchmen, who not only helped us through it--the young fellow driving, and the old one helping--but, having lent us four oxen for the journey, sent for some more, to help us through this drift, after which they say all is right. Lovely moon as we trekked, but after all it is South Africa, and one cannot feel poetical. Picturesque kopjes on either side the road; the scenery, however, not so striking as it was almost beginning to be at Makobi’s. Outspanned at 10.30 P.M., having gone about six miles. Excellent supper on wildebeest steak, fried.

“_September 6th._--Dark cloudy morning, with a little rain. Started at 7 A.M., and trekked six miles. The country where we stopped had been much burnt, and looked very desolate, with bare ground and bare trees, but there was a fine cool wind and a cloudy sky. I could fancy it a sea breeze. They say at the king’s place you get the sea breeze. Started again at 12.30 P.M. Here one enters on a bit of really fine rugged country. Out of the level, scantily covered with dry brown grass and with a thick growth of leafless trees (small for the most part), rise huge boulders, so piled on one another, with here and there a huge stone so nicely balanced on the top, that one wonders how they ever got there. We are in a populous country, strings of people carrying things on the road. Outspanned at 2.30 P.M. Here the Dutchman, Smith, had been located, as there is a straw house, and water, the road crossing a spruit. Here, too, is John Lee’s first kraal. People come round the waggon to beg meat. One is a warrior, handsomely adorned with black ostrich feathers and white ox-tails. Went on again at 5 P.M., the ground rising a little. Then as we descend a range of kopjes appears in front. In about an hour a pretty white farm is seen to the right, towards which the road winds, and the wild view makes the farm seem to welcome one.

“Lee came to meet me, and asked me in. He is a fat, red-faced man; his wife very young. His house had an air of comfort, and some luxury about it, owing to some handsome leopard karosses on couch and chairs. There was a picture, too, by Baines, of Lee shooting three elephants. The horse here represented, which I think cost him £100, was the making of him, he tells me. Lee was a Transvaal Boer, but speaks English. He was about five years hunting. I had supper with him, and a long chat afterwards. Garland, he says, lost seven unsalted horses, and had to send for two salted ones. A good salted horse costs £100. Lee described how his old favourite used to snuff when game was near, and when it was elephant his manner was unmistakable. He has tried donkeys in the tsetse-fly country, but the fly has always killed them. He says all horses, with scarcely an exception, must have the sickness, but he has known an exception. This, however, does not apply to stock bred of salted parents, which often live and never have the sickness. This is better, as the sickness breaks a horse down.

“Lee has just sold twelve red oxen--Africanders, with white faces--for £100, unwillingly. His other oxen are all in the hunting veldt. He has, however, let me have Smith’s as far as Manyami’s, with a boy to bring them back. I think he calls it ten miles to Manyami’s, and from his (Lee’s) house to the King’s fifty odd miles. He says he saw some eland to-day, but game is not plentiful just here. However, it is worse along the road to the King’s, as kraals abound. Lee does not wish to have kraals near him, and the king does not permit any to be made in his neighbourhood. Most of the hunters, he says, make a great deal of money, but spend their money as fast as they get it, saying, ‘There is more ivory where this came from.’ Lee himself was careful. His place, he says, is very healthy, and it has got so good a name that in unhealthy times people stay about here, and it has been like a town, so that he opened a store. He is trying peaches, apricots, and pomegranates. Potatoes grow well here, and he is seldom without vegetables. He is trying several wild fruits. He has always water in the spruit close by, and waters by hand. He showed me a small wild grape.

“Lee tells me that a lion may often be stopped by throwing your hat at him, when you may have time to shoot. He says an elephant gun should never be longer than 27 inches (25 is better), nor weigh over 9 lbs. He shoots 8 drams of powder, and an 8 to the lb. ball. The recoil is avoided by the barrel being strong, and nearly as thick at muzzle as at breech. His clothing in hunting is as light as possible; veldt schoen, and he says not even a shirt if he could help it. He carries needles and thread in his hat.

“For trading with the Matabele he recommends white, blue, and, I think, red beads. Selampore is much liked, or strips of coloured calico. Beads, he says, seem going out, and printed calico being preferred. The Matabele country, he says, was formerly under a queen. There were, I think, other queens before. An old man has told him the traditions, which he possesses. A famine caused the people to break up; then Kafirs came and conquered the country. Mosilikatze came next, and conquered these first Kafirs. Makobi’s were Mungwato people, but the old inhabitants of the Matabele country were a distinct race with a distinct language. The Bushmen have nothing to do with either. They seem an altogether different race, speaking a different language, and seem, Lee says, to be scattered all over the country of South Africa, a race apart from the regular inhabitants, and having no connexion with them.

“Lee has a young sable antelope, which goes with the cattle, about a year old. It is a rich deep chestnut colour. Lee says they get darker every year, till they become black. He once had a young elephant for some days; perhaps nine months old. He describes it as having been a most sensible and amusing pet. When first taken he made it put its trunk under his arm, and after smelling him, it was satisfied and became friendly. It always first smelt at strangers before making friends, and if once repulsed would not be friendly afterwards. It would climb in at the back of the waggon, and out at the front by the wheels, and was accompanying the waggon when it died from diarrhœa, caused by improper food. It would pick up a pin or a needle, placing it first with its foot at the right angle for its trunk to grasp, and then hold it up and examine it with wonderful sagacity. It was excessively mischievous, and would upset everything. It could not bear to be left alone for a moment, and would cry like a child in such a case. The company even of a little child would content it.

“_September 7th._--Breakfast with Lee; dinner also. One of his boys caught some barbel and a curious-looking fish in the river. Talked with Lee, and afterwards saw his garden. Inspanned about 8 P.M., and soon crossed a river with sand and reeds, and a good deal of water in its bed. It was a fine moonlight night, the road winding through picturesque kopjes. Went about six miles, and then halted for the night.

“_September 8th._--Started at 7 A.M., and went four miles through flat land, with but few trees, and hemmed in by craggy, bush-covered kopjes. Came in sight of cultivated land and natives, and reached Manyami’s kraal at 9 A.M. The country here is really pretty, and presents a pleasing variety to the eye. The ground is open mostly, and covered with long yellow grass; here and there groups of trees, some of a very fair size, some bare, some brown, and a few green or in blossom. Large stones crop up from the ground, and everywhere rugged kopjes rise round us.

“Soon after our arrival Manyami came, attended by another old fellow, each in a shabby old hat, and vying with each other in squalor and dirt. He refused firmly to send to the king till to-morrow, saying the king had not sent for _me_, but I had come of my own accord, and must not be in a hurry; the oxen could feed and rest. I gave him a bar of lead. Two messengers were to be sent, and I wrote a note to Fairbairn for oxen, and the boy was directed to bring them back.[18] Manyami insisted on their being paid beforehand, and intimated that they might not carry out their message properly unless I paid them. I was angry at their exorbitance, one demanding two coils of wire; to the other I gave half a bar of lead. The old fellow hung about begging. Women brought mealies and Kafir corn. Milk and beer were also brought, and I told them to bring Kafir corn meal next day, which they did, but were very fanciful in their demands, one wanting beads, another must have brass wire, another a handkerchief, and so on. I find they don’t care for mirrors; look at themselves, and are highly amused, but refuse them as payment. Common knives are likewise refused, but gun caps taken eagerly. They like printed calico better than white, which they affect to despise. The outcry was for long strips of coloured stuff, and they preferred the quarter of two handkerchiefs (i.e. half a handkerchief in quantity), cut lengthwise, to one whole one. Stayed about waggon all day. Pitched tent, and got things out.

“_September 9th._--The night had been very mild. Old Manyami came bothering early. In the course of the day he kept on coming, and I gave him twenty gun caps. Wonder of wonders, he afterwards presented me with a pumpkin, and I felt less hostile to the old creature. He is really a miserable-looking, ugly, and filthy creature. Stayed about waggon again to-day.

“_September 10th._--Early breakfast, and then out with the Kafirs to shoot. One carried my ten-bore, one led the dogs, which I am taking out to help to hunt. Went in a north-easterly direction, through very fine picturesque kopjes, with blue distant ranges; the grass long and yellow, and the trees grouped prettily; some kopjes with craggy tops, and partially covered with evergreens, others showing more of their stony formation. A good many trees are covered with bunches of cream-coloured blossoms something like ‘May,’ but have no leaves. They remind me a little of ‘snow-balls.’ Here and there we see a tree whose leaves are brown or scarlet with decay. In places where the grass has been burnt, fresh green blades are springing. There are numbers of little burns here with moist oozy banks, and in many places with water in them, that I suppose find their way to the Shashani. We had to go through a burning patch of country. The flames appeared orange-red, and presented a rather formidable phalanx, writhing in the wind, and with wreaths of dun-coloured smoke rising from them, which indeed filled the air with lighter clouds of the same colour, here and there the wreaths appearing bluish, whilst a dusky haze hung over the horizon. As the flames devoured the yellow grass, they left a blackened track behind. The trees, however, seem to escape; some in blossom, some in autumnal tints, but the greater portion leafless.... One of the boys who came to the waggon had a charm of bone suspended from his breast. It consisted of four pieces of bone, carved and strung together. By them he professes to foretell what luck will befall a hunter or any one else. They are unstrung and shaken in the hand, and then thrown on the ground. The person going to hunt must spit on the ground, and as he throws he must say, ‘My gun! may I shoot something.’ The bones, as they are hung, appear about the size and shape of a swallow-tail butterfly. I like the Matabele better than I did. They are good-natured and jovial, and seem to understand a joke. There were great firings and noises at the kraal in the evening, in honour, it appears, of a man returned from the diamond-fields.

“_September 11th._--Fair, pleasant, windy day. Eight oxen and a note from Fairbairn, who says I have missed a dance at Gubuleweyo. The king says I am to come and make haste. A letter from Gubuleweyo to forward to the Tati excites more exorbitant demands for payment. Two boys must take it, and each have a pannikin of powder. Manyami said he must see the powder before he would send the boys. Great noises at the kraal again to-night.

“_September 12th._--Manyami brought a small elephant tusk for sale, weighing a little over a pound, and asked five coils of wire for it. I offered him two, which he accepted. He is an extremely ugly little old man, and simply filthy. Packed the waggon and started at 11 A.M., the road winding amongst kopjes. We crossed several spruits, and stopped at the Shashani River about 1 P.M. Beans and guinea-fowl for dinner. Dick went back to look for screw-jack, and we lost a trek in consequence.

“_September 13th._--Inspanned at 3 A.M.; most villainous jolting. Really fine country here; kopjes on every side, rising into fine crags, with huge stones strewed on the ground. In the distance more ranges of kopjes are to be seen, becoming blue against the horizon; and though the kopjes themselves are too stony to give growth to many trees, trees intervene. One could make a picture here. Country a good deal burnt in places, and fresh grass springing up green. Later in the day, after a long rest, we went through ordinary flat bush veldt, and then through an open undulating country, covered with yellow grass; a few trees and detached kopjes in the distance. Passed several kraals, and went through mealie stubble-fields, fenced from the waggon-track by branches rudely stuck in the ground. A crowd of Kafirs, making a fearful noise, appeared, and accompanied the waggon to where we were going to outspan, so we went on a little further past the kraal. There was a perfect Babel. A few men came after us when we had halted--swarthy fellows, with splendid teeth. One had a fine leopard-skin he was anxious to sell; others a wooden dish, beans, Kafir corn, tobacco, and beer. The men’s head-dresses were various and becoming. One man we passed had on a skull-cap of spotted tiger-cat skin, with feathers sticking out behind like eagles’ or pauws’. Others wore round masses of feathers (one was of guinea-fowls’) nearly as big as their heads, and one had a jackal’s tail sticking straight up over his forehead. They were not at all an unpleasant-looking or unfriendly set, though noisy and forward.

“_September 14th._--Fine bright morning; clear sky. Two hours’ trekking brought us to Kumala River, now dry, which we crossed, outspanning a mile or two further on. The country here is open, park-like, and undulating, extending away in a nearly level plain to the right. After we had stopped, a number of impudent Kafirs crowded round the waggon. One made a fearful row, at last coming to entreaties, saying we had set the veldt on fire.

“Starting again at 4 P.M., we next went over rising ground, the country getting very clear of timber, and at half-past six stopped at a small spruit with water in it, having crossed two previously. A long, dry, treeless plain here stretched before us, with kopjes rising into ranges against the horizon. It seems the spruit we are now outspanned at is the head-waters of a river flowing into the Limpopo, and where we were outspanned this morning is the head-waters of Kumala River, which flows into the Zambesi.”

The day afterwards a short trek of about three miles brought the traveller to the King’s Town, as related in the ensuing chapter.