Jonker had never, even when on the best terms with the whites, permitted any of them to enter Damara-land; the traders were peremptorily refused permission to go there; and more lately, when Mr. Hahn had got everything in readiness at Barmen to explore the interior, a troop of men were sent who drove away all his ride, pack, and waggon oxen, and detained them till the season for travelling was gone by; the reason being, that if a free intercourse were established between the whites and Damara-land, the Damaras would soon buy guns and weapons, which would place them on more equal terms with the Hottentots. It can easily then be conceived with what temper Jonker and the others had heard of my landing, and intention to explore; a plan of sending men down to Walfisch Bay, and to cut me off there, was, as I found out afterwards, publicly discussed. Help or countenance from the Damaras was the last thing I could expect, for they would treat me as a Hottentot, and again, my men were so totally undisciplined and devoid of pluck, and had already cast back so many longing regrets towards the Cape, that I felt that the least check, in the first instance, to my success would dash the whole enterprise. At the Cape my plans had already been thwarted by the emigrant Boers, who chose to cut off all communication with the north by the one side of the Karrikarri desert; and here were the Oerlams, their offset as it were, trying to do the same on the other. The cases were as similar as could be; both parties were guided by British subjects,—both were effectually barring out civilisation and commerce from Central Africa, and what I felt most peculiarly vexatious, both were barring out _me_.