The narrative of an explorer in tropical South AfricaGalton, Francis
History
The narrative of an explorer in tropical South Africa
Galton, Francis
South Africa -- Description and travel
_July 1st._—After three or four hours’ ride, I recognised the burly form
of my faithful servant Hans, on the look-out at the top of a hill. To my
extreme relief I learnt that all had gone on well; that Chapupa, although
troublesome, had done no mischief; that several sheep had been bought,
that the oxen were well, and the axletree was as successful a piece of
carpenter’s work as the one that had been broken. Chapupa had bought
things and never paid for them, and, being in disgrace, sneaked away from
me. Kasupi was our principal friend now; he said that it was absurd to
try to go back the way we came, as of all the watering-places at which
we drank between Kutjiamakompè and Omanbondè, a journey of three weeks,
not more than two now remained that were not dry. He said that we must
return by the Omaramba, where we should find both water and grass, and
that he would guide us there and start us. A lad made his appearance, who
said that he knew the Omaramba road perfectly, and under these escorts we
proceeded. Numbers of Damaras wished to join me: I allowed a few to do
so, and my party now numbered thirty-four. We returned by our old road
to Okatjokeama, and then turned to the left. At a werft there I found
my old guide who had stolen the horse-rug and run away from me. He had
the impudence to wear it before my eyes. He was six feet seven inches
high, and large in proportion, and therefore too heavy for me to give a
shaking to, and I dared not whip him, so I only pulled the rug off his
back and rated him soundly.
We hit the Omoramba and followed it to the confluence of its two
branches. Game began now to show, and we had no need to kill any oxen. We
had some charming hunts—one after wild boars. Kasupi could not, any more
than the other Damaras, give me much information about the road _down_
the Omoramba. It seemed most unfavourable to waggon travelling. They said
the Omoramba ran between hills where Ghou Damup lived, and the Damaras
dare not go there.
If my ride-oxen had not been so entirely worn out, and the country so
arid, I should have much liked an excursion in that direction, which, as
I have since discovered, would be a most interesting route. Now, however,
it was out of the question.
_July 12th._—My entire werft at Okavarè consisted of eighty cattle, and
110 sheep and goats; of these many belonged to the men, and not to me. I
had only seventy cattle and eighty sheep and goats: of these about forty
were useful waggon oxen, and fifteen ride and pack, leaving me a surplus
of fifteen slaughter oxen and the eighty small cattle. My articles of
exchange were at a very low ebb indeed, although I had a small further
supply at Walfisch Bay. I had no reason to expect getting more than ten
oxen with them in Damara-land; but when I arrived among the Hottentots,
I intended to sell one of my waggons for forty or fifty oxen, which can
always be done; and thus becoming independent, should have amply enough
for a second excursion on a smaller scale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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