Lodges in the WildernessScully, W. C. (William Charles)
History
Lodges in the Wilderness
Scully, W. C. (William Charles)
Natural history -- South Africa; South Africa -- Description and travel
The first white man who crossed this tract did a venturesome thing. For
although at that time the Bushmen had already been considerably thinned
out by the Hottentots and half-breeds, many of them still lurked in the
less accessible parts. From time to time they emerged, singly or in
small parties, and wreaked a wild and often quite inconsequent revenge.
Their mode of attacking travellers was to steal up at night among the
tussocks and discharge a flight of poisoned arrows at point-blank range,
among those surrounding the camp fire. They would then immediately
decamp and scatter in the darkness. Hours afterwards they might repeat
the attack. If the travellers were deep in the desert the repetition
would perhaps be delayed until the following night, for the Bushmen took
no avoidable risks. Usually the oxen or horses forming the span would
also be slain. One can imagine the plight of a party of travellers
under such circumstances: half of them dead or dying in agony, the
survivors cowering in a wagon as hopelessly tethered to a lonely spot in
a trackless waste as a wrecked ship is chained to the reef that gores
her side. They would have been ringed round with drought and famine;
close prisoners in a solitude only mitigated by the unseen presence of
implacable foes, the stroke of whose dart was as silent and deadly as
that of the snake.
Yet these Bushmen had sufficient justification for all the terrible
reprisals they perpetrated. They were the original dwellers of the
soil; the Hottentots came, dispossessed them of their best water-places
and slaughtered them without mercy. When they migrated eastward they
met the Kaffirs, who proved a more formidable and quite as pitiless a
foe. In the storming of the Bushmen's strongholds their women and
children were speared or flung into the flames. They retired to the
most remote wastes,--to the sheer, black-chasmed fastnesses of the
Malutis, where snow lies thick for months at a time,--to torrid,
waterless deserts. But in every retreat, no matter how remote, their
foes sought them out. They invariably made a desperate resistance, and
sold their lives dearly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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