Incwadi Yami; or, twenty years' personal experience in South AfricaMatthews, J. W. (Josiah Wright)
History
Incwadi Yami; or, twenty years' personal experience in South Africa
Matthews, J. W. (Josiah Wright)
Diamond mines and mining -- South Africa; South Africa -- Description and travel
“After this, the sultan, whom we managed to understand, expressed his
pleasure at our having escaped with our lives from the tribes
inhabiting the locality where we landed and through which we had
passed, and wished me to give him a written acknowledgment of our
having left his place in safety, so that if anything befell us between
there and Aden, he would have this paper to show the English
government. Moreover, as he lived a mile from the sea, and possessed
boats, he offered to send a boat’s crew of ten men to the steamer at
once, to give the shadow, if not the reality of his protection, and
also offered us a boat to Aden. As I was suspicious, I declined giving
him the document he wanted until we were in the boat, but he pressed
very much for it, so at last I gave it him, but started immediately,
so that we might get clear of his people if he meant treachery.
Arriving at the beach, the boat getting ready to take us to Aden was
such a small, leaky, crazy thing, and the sea was running so high
outside and the surf breaking so heavily on the beach, that I demurred
going in it. Fancy spending two days and a night in an open boat of
that description. For my own part I would ten times sooner get shot at
on land with a chance of escape than be upset at sea, and finish my
career with a stomach full of salt water. So we started away again
with the camels, getting water at a well close by to take with us,
which we carried in skins tied to their sides. Most of these people
had never seen a white man before. We saw some women at this well, not
bad looking; one of them had a baby, which she carried in a sort of
triangular flat wicker basket under her arm. She was quite afraid of
me when I went near to look at it. Pushing on until long after sunset,
and striking inland for a few miles from the coast, we came at last to
a camp of Bedouins in a district of bare sand (with a little low bush
interspersed), drifted into mounds like snow driven by the wind. There
were also, here and there, the dry beds of rivulets, which in the wet
season take the water of the hills to the sea. Here we rested for the
night, and a lovely night it was, magnificently starlight and the
atmosphere beautifully clear. Lying down, in less than a minute I was
oblivious to everything here below. I left one of the darkies to keep
watch, but starting up in a short time, I found the revolvers I had
laid at my head gone and the nigger fast asleep. Presently our Arab
guide, seeing me moving, came back with them from an adjoining
camp-fire of Bedouins, where he had been exhibiting them and his
knowledge of firearms at the same time, and what was better still,
brought with him some goats’ milk and dates. Next morning the camels
were lost, and we did not start until 7 o’clock. The intermediate time
we occupied in rifle and pistol practice with the Arabs who came
flocking around us at daybreak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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