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
After two days’ hard work, the axletree was formed into shape, the
necessary holes were bored through it, and Mr. Bam laid it by, so that if
his present one fairly broke, he could, with a day’s work and ordinary
tools, put in the new one, which, in the meantime, was left to season
thoroughly.
I began now to see something of the character of my men, and what they
were fit for. They had on the whole worked willingly and well; but a
great deal of pilfering had been going on. In the constant loading and
unloading of my many things, it was impossible but that several occasions
should occur for the servants to steal them, and some had certainly done
so. However, I said nothing, but Andersson and myself both kept a sharp
look-out. Mr. Bam had assured me of the general honesty of the natives at
his station, in such strong terms, that I felt I could safely accept a
kind offer that he made, and leave all my boxes with him, in the outhouse
that I had occupied, and take the whole of my men with me.
It seems that these Hottentots have a great respect for locks and
keys; the wooden store-house of the bay has been left entirely without
protection for months, and although the natives knew that it was
then full of the very things they valued so highly, no occasion was
known of their having broken into it. The sandy soil is a great check
upon dishonesty, for the spoor remains to tell of the thief and his
whereabouts.
I had made my first attempts at mapping. From the sand-hills above
Scheppmansdorf, Walfisch Bay could be seen clearly; and as many distant
mountains were visible from both stations, I could begin triangulating.
The mountains of the Swakop, on the other side of the desert plain to
our north, were clear in the blue distance. A few peaked hills were
more in the foreground, and I took the bearings, as well as the natives
could point out, of the place we were first to aim for. Our first stage
is a very difficult one. It occupies sixteen hours’ actual travelling,
exclusive of all stoppages. There is no grass for the oxen, or water
either; though a few cup-fulls of the latter can be found in a granite
rock after the first twelve hours’ journey; and there is generally so
thick a mist on the plain, that, travelling, as people generally do, all
through the night, there is every probability of losing the path. The
consequence is, that the plain is covered with false waggon-roads in
every direction, and a great number of oxen have died on the way. The
natives of the place are no better than the strangers; as soon as they
lose their road they go wandering about, not only till daylight, but till
the fog clears away and shows them where they are. Losing the way is the
rule here, and not the exception; and a person who has crossed the plain
without doing so, rather plumes himself upon the feat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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