Chapter VII

Hunting trip on the Semokwe--A native musician--Gigantic
baobabs--Return to Tati--Journey to Shoshong--The Bamangwato
and Matabele nations--Fighting amongst the natives--Start
back for Tati--Misadventures and delays--Fresh arrangements.

On reaching Tati, Frank Oates found that a hunting party was just about to start thence for the Semokwe, and being asked to join them, he arranged to do so before going on to Bamangwato. The following is an extract from his Journal of this date (February 23d), after his arrival at the settlement:--

“Tati,” he writes, “presented on our arrival a very pretty and lively appearance. I like it better than any place I know of, to stand at. Here are no crowds of rude people to come round the waggon. All is green, and numerous little well-built houses dot the ground; of course I mean well-built for the interior of South Africa, but it is rough work enough nevertheless. There are the three waggons of the Gardens, two English brothers hunting in the country, and the waggon of Mr. Thomson, on his way with his wife and children to a missionary meeting at Kuruman. There is Nelson’s waggon, who is going away for a time, and possibly will visit England. He leaves to-morrow according to his present plan, with Mr. Thomson, they carrying the mail. Then there is Klaas’s waggon, and Jacobs’s waggon; the latter[35] living here with his wife and daughters until the regular hunting season. He makes occasional short excursions from here, and is now about to set off for the Semokwe for a three weeks’ hunt after elephant. A troop of they say at least 200 elephant came close to Tati lately, but, probably hearing the engine, turned. One account sets them down at a still larger number. In the letter I found awaiting me here from Willie, written when he came out of the hunting veldt, he tells me he has been to the Semokwe, where he has had good sport. Seventeen elephants, he tells me, had just been killed on that river; this would be by Fejeune. Captain Garden and his brother are accompanying Jacobs on his projected hunt, and I am going to join them too. Klaas and Henry Wall are also going, and a lot of Bushmen. Jacobs shot a fine lion close to Tati lately; brought him to bay with dogs early in the morning, and shot him from horseback. They trapped another; the third, a lioness, escaped. They had been taking Jacobs’s bullocks.... A lot of people came up to my waggon when we outspanned, and Mr. Thomson invited me to supper. In the evening we all met at Brown’s. Brown has given me a piece of bread. I enjoy it without butter or anything else with it; it is a wonderful treat.”

The following day the large party here alluded to started on their hunt. Before leaving, Frank Oates wrote to his brother William, now in England, as follows:--

“TATI, _February 24th, 1874_.

“It is quite a pleasure to get a letter from you--I mean the one you left for me here. I shall get no more now for five or six weeks, when I expect to be in Mungwato. I am sorry that wretched old croaker, Palmer,[36] put you in a funk about me. He says it would be a good thing for people travelling to have ‘portable coffins.’ I am thankful to say my health is excellent. I did not, as doubtless you know by this time, get to the Zambesi. I believe the king was at the bottom of it (not of the Zambesi; but excuse grammar). I took my waggon fifty miles on the way, as far as Inyati, and then put all out for fifteen carriers to take. It was a fortnight’s walk through ‘the fly’ to the Falls. After waiting nearly a week, it transpired that no boys were forthcoming as promised. Partly, I think, they were afraid of fever, and partly of the natives, with whom they are at war; partly also they wanted to get back in time to cultivate their gardens. However, I believe I could have got them myself easily, had I not trusted to the man given me by the king.

“I then sent back to Lobengula, asking him for hunting veldt. I had given him your shot gun, and his sister some furniture print of gorgeous pattern. He gave me a fine veldt between the Gwailo and Umvungu Rivers, where I was six weeks. I then returned to the royal residence, and asked the king to let me go back to the same place. He was very crusty, and asked if I wanted to die. I told him I would take my chance, for I did not think there was the least danger _then_. It is when the rains cease and the rank vegetation rots beneath the sun that it is so bad, and that is not till March in most parts, I believe, though earlier on the Zambesi. However, he said, if I wanted to die, why could I not die somewhere else, and not in his country, and made so many difficulties I had to give it up. I then had so many delays--bad weather, and one thing or another--that I waited till the big dance was over, which is quite a thing to see when one is here.

“After this I had difficulties with my men, and had to part with Hendrik, Dick, and Jacob, all of whom you will remember. About Dick’s dismissal I had to wait a week or more, as the case had to be tried before the king, and Jacob was finally handed over to the tender mercies of Dick. Hendrik I dismissed for refusing to cut some bushes, to make a fence round my waggon to keep the niggers out. This he considered ‘slavish work,’ and preferred dismissal to demeaning himself. Then the king would insist on buying my little horse, still well when I left in January, and got the saddle and bridle for nothing.

“Since then I have been coming slowly from the King’s. I have been hunting, and have Lee’s brother to drive for me now, and take me to Mungwato. Here I have fallen in with Captain Garden and his brother, and am joining them and some others for about three weeks’ hunting in the veldt. I am spinning out the time, so that if I find all things favourable on reaching Mungwato, I can start in April or May for the Zambesi.... I have seen Vincent, the driver, who is death on Solomon.[37] He said he wanted to kill him, but did not like to do it without your leave, which he asked, but you said it would be rather inconvenient to you just then to have him put out of the way.”

On the 24th, as already stated, the hunters left the Tati, and crossing the Ramaqueban and Inkwesi Rivers, struck thence eastwards, and crossed the Sakasusi or Dry River on the 26th, a crowd of Bushmen, with their wives and children, accompanying the waggons. The following day they reached the Semokwe, a fine river surrounded by a sea of green bush stretching in all directions, and here they formed their camp.[38] “In the evening,” writes Frank Oates in his Journal after their arrival at this point, “a boy, who comes from the Zambesi, and knows the Falls, which he calls ‘Metse-a-tunya’ (water-sounding), came and sang, playing on the string of a bow to which a gourd was attached. He sang the ‘Song of the Elephants Feeding,’ now and then pausing and imitating the looking round for danger, then recommencing the feeding, or imitating the running of the elephants. The words were very distinct, with no clicking. The following occurred over and over again, the song sounding very monotonous, but not at all harsh or unpleasant:--

“‘Wānga marank,
Swot ma ben a marank,
Wātem ba marank,
Obeza marank,
Wāmba marank.’

One of the boys from Mungwato, whose language this man knows a little, explains that he speaks of the game feeding by the river--‘all the game.’ The minstrel was delighted with some tobacco. He is a fine, well-made, powerful-looking, and nice-featured young fellow, with a pleasant childish expression.”

Next day a large troop of buffalo was encountered near the river, out of which were obtained a cow and three-year-old bull, which supplied the camp with meat. “Went after supper,” writes Frank Oates that evening, “to see the Bushmen and their wives dance. They do this when full of meat, making a great noise. The women stand in line, shuffling their feet and clapping their hands, whilst the men come and perform antics in front of them--one now and then stepping out from the ranks and approaching near to the women with dancing and gestures. Now and then one excited will rush away half mad into the veldt, and return again when tired. They must work very hard in this dancing.”

On March 2d, leaving the waggons by the river, the party started for a few days’ hunting in the bush, taking with them a couple of pack-oxen. After following the river for some distance nearly south, they entered some very pretty country, characteristic of the best South African scenery--rugged kopjes and thick bush, the kopjes rising round on every side, and stretching far into the distance. Here, crossing the river, they encamped their first night, advancing the following morning in an easterly direction several miles. In the course of this afternoon (March 3d), some trees of unusual size were noticed by some of the party whilst riding in pursuit of eland. “The first which arrested my attention,” writes Frank Oates, who was one of this number, “was so striking that I let the others go on following the spoor, and reined in my horse. The tree was perfectly gigantic in girth, thickening as it got higher, though of no great height. It was swollen and bloated in a most extraordinary manner, and is of the same kind as the ‘Indunas’ tree’--a baobab. Though still flourishing, it is a mere shell, and, looking in at a hole in the side, I saw that it was open to the sky at the top. Inside was a good-sized chamber, strewed with minute bones of rats or some small mammalia. No doubt generations of owls have long had their abode here; one flew out on our approach. We saw another tree afterwards, probably as large, but I did not ride up to it.”

After this the same general direction was again pursued till evening, when temporary huts were constructed for the night, which, however, unfortunately proved a wholly ineffectual shelter from the heavy rain which fell early the following morning, thoroughly saturating everything inside. The day itself was fine and hot, but was again succeeded by heavy rain at night, which induced the party on March 5th to retrace their steps to the waggons, recrossing the Semokwe in their march, which was now swollen with the recent heavy rains. One of the Bushmen was carried off his legs in crossing the river, but, seizing hold of another of the party, regained his footing, and reached the opposite bank in safety. The big rifle he was carrying escaped with a severe wetting. After this the party moved slowly back towards the Tati, halting a short time on the banks of the Sakasusi, and elsewhere upon the way; and reaching the settlement on March 17th. The game met with during their absence had been much the same as that Frank Oates had found in his former journeyings further to the north, and included--besides buffalo, quagga, pallah, and sassaybi, all of which were obtained early in the hunt--giraffe, rhinoceros, wildebeest, and koodoo.

Still remaining at Tati a few days after their return there, Frank Oates, as already mentioned, started thence for Bamangwato on April 4th, accompanied by a hunter and two traders, also on their way south. By the middle of March the weather seemed to have become quite settled, and the days were almost universally fine and hot, with only an occasional slight shower or a little drizzling rain. This absence of wet had greatly changed the aspect of the country, and that in a short time, for, the day after leaving Tati for Bamangwato and crossing the Shashe River, the veldt presented to the travellers a dry, parched appearance, very different from anything which had now for a long time been witnessed. The grass was yellow, and many of the trees already bare. A week’s trekking brought the party to Bamangwato, which was reached on April 11th, after an uneventful journey.[39]

Here Frank Oates found letters awaiting him--the first he had received from England since leaving Pietermaritzburg nearly twelve months before--and, all seeming favourable, at once determined on prosecuting his journey to the Zambesi. There appeared now every reason to anticipate a prosperous and successful expedition, and he began at once to make his preparations for it, laying in fresh supplies at the stores, and otherwise completing his equipment.

Very little worthy of note occurred during the time he was detained at Bamangwato. One evening, however, a great noise and shouting at the kraal, kept up till late, announced the return from the veldt of a number of boys who had been out for circumcision. The following day, according to custom, the same boys went forth again, and Frank Oates saw them starting. “Party, say of two hundred boys, went out,” he writes, “into the veldt. They are those who returned yesterday from circumcision, and I am told will have to go to the veldt every day for a week and look after the king’s cattle. They presented a striking and uniform appearance. Each had a knob-kerry and a wand, and round the middle a bit of skin. All these and their entire bodies were rubbed with red ochre, their heads shaved except the crown, on which the hair was quite short, crisp, and bead-like. All the crown and the part around it was brilliantly metallic, of a dark steel blue, produced by some preparation of a kind of lead got here.”

The evening after this occurrence (April 24th), the traveller’s preparations were completed, and a fresh start made up country, but before proceeding further with the narrative, it will be proper here to give quotations from some of the letters written during his present stay at Bamangwato. Five days after his arrival he writes to one of his brothers:--

“BAMANGWATO, _April 16th, 1874_.

“At last I have your and the Mater’s letters, dated September 22d, and containing the first news I have had from home since I left Pietermaritzburg. When I arrived here and found no letters I did not know what to think. Mr. Mackenzie, the missionary, and his assistant, Mr. Hepburn, were both absent, having gone--as well as Mr. Thomson, the Matabele missionary--to a meeting at Kuruman. I had asked Mackenzie to keep letters for me at his own house, and requested Hathorn to forward all letters to him from Maritzburg; so when I arrived here and found none I could not make it out. To-day, however, a note arrived, the monthly mail coming in. This note was from Hepburn, telling me that a letter and newspapers were at his house for me, and directing me to apply to a converted native, who is studying for the church, and who, with others like him, forms a college adjoining the missionary houses. I was not long in going up, and found the things as he had said, amongst his books....

“I left Tati for this place on the 4th of April, and reached here in a week. I had to come here for supplies. It is about 150 miles; but the journey is no trifle. I generally trekked during the night, and slept comfortably, the ground being soft sand for the most part, and the waggon going slowly and without jolts. We usually made two treks of perhaps three hours each, say from 3 to 6, and from 8 to 11 P.M., and set off again about 2 A.M. and trekked till sunrise, which was about 6 A.M., making a trek of about four hours. Call our rate of travelling two miles an hour in heavy ground, this gives about twenty miles a day, roughly, and this is good trekking, and could not be kept up for long. Now, however, there is still plenty of grass and water, though winter is setting in and the rains nearly over. Two waggons accompanied me, with two traders and a hunter in them. The latter is quite a young fellow, who left England three years ago. He was educated at Rugby. One of the two traders was Fairbairn, who supplied me with goods at the town of the Matabele king; and the other, a man named Dawson.

“On my birthday I thought of you all, and old times--and had a good wash.[40]... I hope not to be more than a week or so here in all, before returning to Tati, _en route_ for the Falls. Selous, the hunting youth above mentioned, set off to-day. His partner, George Wood, a Yorkshireman, is waiting for him at Tati. They are both professional ivory hunters, and have a good deal of roughing it to do. Selous was once lost for four days and three nights in the veldt. The morning of the first day, when he left the waggons, he had nothing but a cup of coffee, and had neither a drop of water nor a morsel of food of any description till the evening of the fourth day, when he found his way back, and got some milk of a native. He thinks he could have held out another day.

“The brothers Garden are going to the Zambesi also, the same way. There is another way of reaching the Falls from here, shorter than the Tati road, but at certain seasons deficient in water. It is to the left of the Tati road. I should have preferred it, but wanted to leave some things at Tati, and was not sure of finding water, going by it. It appears, however, it would have been all right, had I decided on that route. They tell me here two English tourists, one of them called Bond, have just left here, trekking slowly to the Falls. This year and last the Falls have been in great request apparently, as Garland and Dawnay visited them last year, and now the Gardens, Bond, and myself, are all bound there, this. Selous too is very anxious to see them, and will probably manage it. We are still in lots of time, in fact the great fear now is of going there too soon, but I shall go slowly, and remain where it is healthy till it is the same at the Zambesi.

“The boys, as one’s Kafir satellites are called, whatever their age, are far more liable to fever of course than their ‘bosses.’ Lying out naked, or with only a skin or blanket and a fire, to keep the cold away at the unhealthy season, is not likely to prevent an attack of fever. Three or four of my boys have had it. I have given them quinine, and there is only one of them ill now. This is a little fellow I call ‘Quilp.’ He is perhaps eighteen, and a perfect dwarf. The race he belongs to, the Bushmen of this country, are usually tall. These Bushmen are a curious race, who probably had their homes in the veldt long before the Mungwato and Matabele people came here and conquered it, and before the races they conquered came. The Mungwato people are an utterly different nation from the Matabele. The latter have two other nations, the Makalaka and Mashona, living in bondage under them, who are far more ingenious and versed in the arts than their conquerors, having mined and worked in metals and woven stuffs for ages. They are not all conquered yet; but the Matabele king is constantly sending out parties of warriors, who steal their cattle, kill the old people, and carry the children into slavery. The little slaves grow up in the families of the Matabele, and when they are old enough to marry, become free and are incorporated into the nation, in which way Lobengula increases his people and his power. The slaves call those of their conquerors to whom they are allotted, their ‘fathers,’ and they have to work for them, though more like adopted children than anything else. Many of the conquered people, however, are not made part of the nation, but suffered to live on with a Matabele headman placed over them. It is usually slave boys that one gets as servants. They have to look after the cattle and make themselves generally useful, carrying one’s arms, blankets, or anything else required, when one goes for a day or two into the veldt. I have now six boys, all young, which I always prefer, besides my driver, a stupid creature, who requires constant blowing up and the use of unpleasantly strong remarks.[41] When these fail altogether, I shall have to try the argument of knocking him down, which may be slightly beneficial. This is supposed to attach a boy to you. The worst of it is none of my boys are much afraid of me.

“I think I shall be very well supplied for my coming trip. I shall have meal, coffee, and brandy, which I have got here. Sugar is not to be had at present, but may possibly turn up before I leave. However, that doesn’t matter much. Coffee is of the first importance, then comes tobacco. To be without these two is a thing I have never yet come to. Meal too is a nice thing to have, though not indispensable, as you can buy Kafir corn, which, when cooked, keeps you going. Brandy, likewise, I am very glad to have got.

“There are, besides the parties I have enumerated, a lot of Boer hunters going to the Zambesi, with their wives and families. Those who go by Tati will leave it about the middle of May, I think, and I suppose the Falls can be reached and seen, and you can be returning in August if you wish to leave so soon. I look forward to the time when I shall be _en route_ for home. When I came here and got Willie’s letter, and saw the place where our waggons had stood together, I could not help feeling a sort of yearning for home, and to-day when I got your and the Mater’s letters, it seemed as if it would be so jolly to be with you all again soon, but then I comfort myself with thinking that it will only make a few months’ difference, going to the Zambesi, and I did not like the idea of leaving the country without accomplishing my object. I hope all will continue to go on well at home.

“There has been some fighting going on here of late amongst the natives. It took place just before I arrived. You may be aware that Kama left here, and old Sekomi, his father, remained behind with Kamani, Kama’s younger brother. Kama, however, it is supposed, will return and rout Kamani. Sekomi is looked upon as nobody. Kamani is a gentlemanly well-dressed darkie enough, and the other day he and his men gave Matchin a warm reception. Matchin is his uncle, or something of the sort, and once for a short time supplanted Sekomi. He thought the dispute of the brothers a favourable opportunity for retaking Mungwato, but failed. His people had to climb the steep mountain which flanks the town, turning to fire as they fled, whilst Kamani’s men shot at them from the plain. A great deal of ammunition was expended, but comparatively few natives slain. There were a dozen or so lying about on the slope of the mountain when I arrived, but the hyænas and crows had had a ‘high old time,’ and little was left of them but the skulls. A lot of huts were destroyed during the fight; and one of the traders here seized the opportunity to burn down the empty huts all round the store where he lives, and it certainly improves his view.[42]

“It seems next to impossible to convert the natives here to Christianity, though a good many of them profess it. The worst of it is that when they get so far converted as to wear ‘continuations,’ they become incorrigible thieves and drunkards. I always infinitely prefer the raw unconverted heathen for my own use, and every one else that I know does the same. I like extremely the three missionaries that I know, and believe them to be most excellent conscientious men. They believe the chief result of their labours is yet to come, and I hope they may be right.”

By the 24th of April, as already mentioned, all was ready for a start, and, leaving Bamangwato after sundown, a trek of two hours was accomplished that night. The following morning a like distance had been traversed, when the waggon was suddenly brought to a stand by one of the wheels giving way. It was fortunate, as it happened, they had not got further from the reach of help, and the broken wheel was at once taken back to Bamangwato. It was a tedious business, however, getting it repaired,--so slow are people’s movements in this country,--but at last it was ready, and, some fresh oxen being purchased to strengthen the span, the journey was resumed early on the morning of May 5th. Before starting a couple of waggons arrived from Lake Ngami with two traders, both looking dreadfully ill from the effects of fever; indeed they seemed to have had a very narrow escape. They had buried one man, and reported the death of another at the Lake,--Henry Gray, the trader who, the year before, had accompanied Frank and William Oates a good part of the way up country when they first left Pietermaritzburg.

Before resuming his journey Frank Oates wrote home a few lines to his brother William, as follows:--

“BAMANGWATO, _May 4th, 1874_.

“I wrote to Charley a few days ago, telling him I was just setting off for the Zambesi. As bad luck would have it, one of my hind wheels came to grief in jolting over that vile piece of road you must remember, about ten miles from here, and there I was, laid on my back. However, I put the wheel on a sledge of branches, and brought it with six oxen to be mended here, and once again am off. I am going to ride to the waggon to-night by moonlight, and hope to be at the Makalapsi River before the sun is very high....

“We have reckoned up about thirty waggons going Zambesi way this year; some are hunters, some traders, and some tourists. I expect most of them will stand at the same place, beyond Daka, and one must walk from there to the Falls. I suppose twelve white men at least will be at the Falls this year, so I shall not be alone, and one will be in the way of help in case of emergency arising, which is not likely. I am sparing no pains to get a good outfit. I have now twenty-six oxen, and am determined to be as well provided in every way as possible for the journey.”

After writing the above Frank Oates rode out, as he intended, to his waggon, and by 3 A.M. on the 5th of May was once more upon the road. Again all went favourably for something like three hours after starting, and a further distance of five or six miles had been accomplished when, to the traveller’s unspeakable vexation, a fresh catastrophe of a like kind occurred, this time the tire of the same wheel breaking, and necessitating another halt. He now rode back into Bamangwato to see what could be done, the upshot of which was that he there bought two new waggons, and yet more oxen, so as to divide his load and lessen the risk of future accidents of this vexatious kind. He also secured the services of a Dutchman named Van Roozen, and his son, the former of whom would act as driver to one of the waggons, and make himself generally useful.

Whilst still completing these arrangements he added a short supplementary letter to the last, from which the following are extracts:--

“_May 9th, 1874._

“Since writing the letter of May 4th, which will reach you at the same time this does, I have broken down again. After finishing my letter to you I rode out to the waggon, inspanned, and trekked. I had gone perhaps five or six miles, when the wheel came to grief again, the tire breaking, and I had to return here. It has ended in my buying two new waggons, and selling the old one.... The great difference in my plans, however, is, that I have found a Dutchman and his little boy, who have agreed to accompany me. The former wanted to go hunting with some one, and I engaged him to go with me as driver and general overseer, but have stipulated that he shall only hunt when and where I think fit, as, for instance, when I leave the waggon standing to visit the Zambesi. Of course if he gets any ivory or feathers he gives me half, as is always done in these cases, and there may be enough to pay his wages as driver. His boy is a handy little fellow, and can take charge of a waggon.”

It was the 13th of May, when again, for the third time, Frank Oates started north, but the further tracing of his fortunes must be left to the succeeding chapter. Before, however, concluding the present period of his wanderings, the following brief extract may be given from another of his letters, written about this time, with reference to his dogs. He says:--

“I have the nicest dog now I ever had. He is a pointer, and a most sensible creature. Dogs are indispensable here, if only to guard the waggon. My pointers are both well; I had four originally, but sold two here when I went further into the interior. One poor thing is dead, and the other far from flourishing. It was August when I left them, having a difficulty in feeding so many dogs; and now when I return in April, poor ‘Flirt’ knows me, and won’t let me out of her sight for a moment. She had only known me three months, but had formed a very strong attachment to me. She follows me like my shadow. They accuse her of stealing soap, and say she has a _penchant_ for departed negroes. The fact is she is not overfed. I wish that I had kept her. I have besides two puppies. One is five, the other three months old, and I have had them from their tenderest infancy.”

The pointer referred to at the commencement of this paragraph was the traveller’s favourite, “Rail,” the attached and devoted companion of all his wanderings, his friend in solitude, and faithful to him even after death.