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
I arrived at Otjimbinguè about the 10th of December, and found the
waggons drawn up on the cliff under a thick roofing of reeds, and with
reeds stacked all round them. Every thing looked most perfectly in order,
and I felt delighted with Hans’ management. My waggon gear had required
much putting in order; the trek-tows or ropes to which the yokes were
fastened were quite rotten; they were remarkably good pieces of rope when
I bought them in Cape Town, so much so as to attract the critical eye of
the sailors; but nothing of hemp or cotton stands this climate. I do not
know why, but string, yarn, shirts, and thread all become useless after
a short exposure to the air. Hans had therefore saved the hide of every
ox that had been slaughtered, and had either dressed it to make reims
and such-like things, or else twisted it up raw to make into a trek-tow.
We still wanted one hide, which a gnu was kind enough to afford us. Hans
wounded him after a long stalk; but though the animal got off for the
time, he was steadily followed by Hans and John Allen for hours, till
night-fall; they then slept on the track and took it up again the next
morning; in a couple of hours they found the beast on three legs, at
bay, under a stone, where he was shot and flayed. Gnu is literally the
only hide, besides that of oxen and koodoos, that is fit for a trek-tow;
almost all other animals have either too small and too thin skins, or
else the opposite extreme, while gemsbok and zebra hides, which are of
the right thickness, are the worst of leather.
I stopped a day at Otjimbinguè, and then rode off with Hans, John St.
Helena, and Gabriel, to the mountain Erongo; it was partly an excursion
to buy oxen and sheep for my journey, and partly to see the country, and
that remarkable stronghold of the Ghou Damup. The drought was so great,
no constant rain having fallen, that troops of Damaras were flocking
in from all sides to the comparatively abundant water of the Mission
station. One of the captains, who was in advance of the rest of his
people, offered to go back with me as guide. He said he would take us to
different werfts on our road, where we might barter as much as we liked,
but that he dare not take us to Erongo, as his people and the Ghou Damup
who lived there were always fighting together. I took a few articles of
exchange, some of each of the different things that I had, and we all
started in the afternoon.
Our native followers included two Ghou Damups, who were to introduce
us to their relatives on Erongo, in the same way as the captain was to
recommend us to his friends on the road.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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