FRANCOIS LE VAILLANT.
Born 1753.—Died 1824.
In commencing the life of this traveller I experience some apprehension that the interest of the narrative may suffer in my hands; since his exploits, as Sallust observes of those of the Athenians, appear to acquire much of their importance from the peculiar eloquence with which they are described. The style of Le Vaillant, though regarded by many as declamatory and negligent, is in fact so graceful, natural, and full of vivacity,—his sentiments are so warm,—his ideas, whether right or wrong, so peculiarly his own, that, whether he desires to interest you in the fate of his friends or of his cattle, of his collections or of his cocks and hens, the result is invariably the same: he irresistibly inspires you with feelings like his own, and for the moment compels you, in spite of yourself, to adopt his views and opinions. I cannot, however, flatter myself with the hope of equal success. Things really trifling in themselves might, I am afraid, continue to appear so when dressed in my plain style; and it therefore only remains for me to select, to the best of my judgment, such actions and events as really deserve to be remembered, and must always, with whatever degree of simplicity they may be described, command a certain degree of attention. The scene of this writer’s adventures had in many instances all the charm of novelty when his travels first appeared. No European had preceded him in his route. He could form no conjecture respecting the nature of the objects with which the morrow was to bring him acquainted, and at every step experienced the
Novos decerpere flores.
In all the pleasures to be derived from pursuing an untrodden path, from penetrating into an unknown world; for such then was Africa, and such, in a great measure, it still continues—from beholding new species of birds and animals which his enthusiasm and perseverance were about to make known to mankind;—in all these pleasures, I say, he skilfully makes his readers his associates, and thus, apparently without effort, accomplishes the intention of the most consummate rhetorical art, the object of which is only to lead the imagination captive by the allurements of pleasure, or to urge it along by the keen sting of curiosity.
François le Vaillant was born in 1753, at Paramaribo, in Dutch Guiana, where his father, a rich merchant, originally from Metz, filled the office of consul. Even while a child the tastes and habits of his parents inspired him with a partiality for a wandering life, and for collections of objects of natural history, which quickly generated another passion, the passion for hunting; and this amusement, unphilosophical as it may seem, not only occupied his boyish days, in which man is cruel from thoughtlessness, but his riper and declining years, when suffering and calamity might have taught him to respect the lives even of the inferior animals.
His father, actuated by the love of science, or by the vanity of forming a collection, employed much of the leisure which he enjoyed in travelling through the less frequented parts of the colony, accompanied by his wife and son; and to this circumstance may be attributed Le Vaillant’s twofold passion for travelling and for natural history. The desire of possessing a cabinet of his own soon arose. Birds and beasts being as yet beyond his reach, he commenced with caterpillars, butterflies, and other insects; but his ambition increasing with his acquisitions, he at length armed himself with the Indian sarbacan and bow, and before he had reached his tenth year had slain innumerable birds.
In 1763 he proceeded with his parents to Europe, where every object which presented itself to his eye was new. They first landed in Holland, where the phlegmatic Dutchmen, who, like the Chinese, pique themselves upon being “slow and sure,” viewed with astonishment the pert and forward urchin, who, at ten years of age, began to babble of science, cabinets, and collections. From Holland, however, they soon removed to the more congenial soil of France. Here precocity, which too frequently generates hopes never destined to be fulfilled, has always been viewed with more complacency than in any other country in Europe; and accordingly our youthful traveller, whose vanity amply made up for his want of knowledge, was flattered and encouraged to his heart’s content. In this particular instance the flowers were succeeded by fruit. Being capable of existing in solitude, which is difficult in youth, but yet absolutely necessary to the acquisition of studious habits, he yielded to his natural inclination for the chase, and spent whole weeks in the forests of Lorrain and Germany, intently studying the manners of animals and birds. His education, meanwhile, was not in other respects neglected; but the books which occupied him most agreeably were voyages and travels, as his mind seems already to have turned towards that point from which he was to derive his fame.
In the course of the year 1777 some fortunate circumstance conducted him to Paris, where the collections and cabinets of learned and scientific men at first afforded him extraordinary delight; but ended, he says, by inspiring him with contempt, the richness of the treasures which they contained being equalled only by the confusion and absurdity observable in their arrangement. He discovered likewise in the current works on natural history, even in those of Buffon, so much exaggeration, and so many errors, notwithstanding the masterly eloquence with which those errors are clothed, that, convinced that no degree of genius could preserve from delusion the man who describes nature at second-hand, he at length determined to become a traveller before he became a natural historian, that he might observe in their native woods and deserts the animals which he wished to make known to the world. With these views, without communicating his plans to any person, he departed from Paris on the 17th of July, 1780, and proceeded to Holland.
Having visited the principal cities of the republic, and admired at Amsterdam the superb collection and aviary of M. Temminck and others, he obtained permission to proceed to the Cape of Good Hope in one of the ships of the Dutch East India Company, and set sail for that country on the 3d of December, 1780, the day before England declared war against the Dutch. Had this event taken place twenty-four hours sooner, the company, he observes, would not have allowed them to depart; in which case all his projects might have been frustrated. During the voyage the ship was cannonaded during several hours by a small English privateer, while the Dutch captain, rendered incapable of reflection by terror, never returned a single shot; and although exceedingly superior in men and metal to the enemy, would undoubtedly have suffered himself to be taken prisoner, had not another Dutch ship-of-war hove in sight, and put to flight the audacious Englishman. This was the only incident worthy of mention which occurred to dissipate the ennui of their long voyage; and they arrived at Cape Town three months and ten days after their departure from the Texel.
Le Vaillant, who had taken care to provide himself previous to his departure from Amsterdam with numerous letters of recommendation, was received with remarkable attention by several individuals of distinction at the Cape. His design of exploring the remoter districts of the colony and the adjacent countries fortunately excited no jealousy or suspicion in their minds, and therefore, instead of labouring, as petty colonial governments too frequently do, to obstruct the interests of science, they evinced a disposition to favour the views of the traveller, entertained him with profuse hospitality during the many months which the preparations for his journey required him to remain among them, and, which to him was still more important, exerted their influence and authority to facilitate his movements towards the countries of the interior. So agreeable a reception could not, of course, fail to produce its effect upon the mind of the traveller. It quite melted away his affected misanthropy. He found himself in good-humour with mankind, and, as if benevolence and philanthropy were the peculiar attributes of the natives of Holland, observes, that this species of politeness was what he had reckoned upon, for that he knew he had to deal with Dutchmen!
His remarks upon Cape Town, now no longer in the possession of the Dutch, are sufficiently curious, as they enable us to contrast its appearance fifty years ago with that which it at present wears under English government. Though a large proportion of the houses were spacious and handsome, the streets, in spite of their great breadth, appeared disagreeable even to a Frenchman, on account of the badness of the pavement, and the stench which everywhere offended the nostrils, arising from the heads, feet, and intestines of slaughtered animals which the butchers of the company were in the habit of casting forth in heaps before their doors, and which, with more than Ottomite negligence, the authorities allowed to putrefy upon the spot. The effluvia proceeding from these abominations Le Vaillant with reason regarded as one of the active causes of those epidemics which usually prevailed in the city during those seasons in which the violent south-east wind had not blown. While this cleansing wind was performing its operations, the streets were almost rendered impassable. The hurricane, precipitating from the mountains dense masses of vapour, raged for several days with indescribable impetuosity, overthrowing every thing in its course, and filling all places, even to the closets, trunks, and drawers, with dust. Trees and plants were frequently torn up by the roots; and well-planted gardens were rendered in the course of twenty-four hours as bare and naked as a desert.
Le Vaillant found the native colonists of the Cape handsome and well formed, particularly the women; but, although they studied with perseverance the important science of dress, they were still very far, in his opinion, from the ease and elegance of the ladies of France; a result which he in a great measure attributes to the practice of employing slaves as wet-nurses, and of otherwise living with them in habits of great familiarity. Slavery under any form is a thing to be abhorred; but our traveller here seems to exaggerate its deformities. Gracefulness, taste, decorum, which should, perhaps, be numbered among the virtues in a well-regulated state, are things with which slavery is by no means incompatible. The most polished nation of antiquity, which every person but a Frenchman will allow to have at least equalled the Parisians in refinement, constantly employed domestic slaves, and lived with them on terms of considerable familiarity. But ignorance and refinement are necessarily repugnant to each other; and in general the Dutch inhabitants of the Cape were, according to Le Vaillant, remarkable for their ignorance, which, without the aid of slavery, would sufficiently account for the absence of graceful and elegant manners.
Strangers, however, arriving at the Cape were almost invariably received with great hospitality, more particularly the English, who were admired for their generosity, as much as the French, for their sordid avarice and egotism, were despised and hated. Le Vaillant, in fact, observes that he has frequently heard colonists declare they would prefer being conquered by the English to their owing their safety to a nation whom they regarded with such aversion as the French; and the French troops which shortly afterward arrived in the colony, spreading around them vice and profligacy like a pestilence, debauching the wives and daughters of those who hospitably received them into their houses, and sowing dissension and eternal regrets in the bosoms of a hundred families, fully justified this deep-rooted hatred. The great number of persons in France who from selfish motives remain unmarried, and speculate upon the gratification of their feeble passions at the expense of the weak-minded and the miserable, must always render the nation an object of aversion among a remote people like the Dutch colonists of the Cape, whose ignorant simplicity necessarily exposes them to the shame of suffering by such immorality.
But if the English were so much the objects of admiration to the people, their numerous and powerful fleets, which have for centuries exercised an undisputed omnipotence on the ocean, rendered them no less terrible to the authorities, who, to secure the company’s vessels from their dreaded cannon, commanded them to be removed from Table Bay to that of Saldanha, where, it was hoped, their chances of escape would be more numerous. On board of one of these our traveller embarked on the 10th of May, and next morning arrived safely in the Bay of Saldanha, happy that the dreaded English flag had not encountered them on their passage.
In the waters of this bay, which was then but seldom visited, great numbers of whales were continually seen sporting about; and Le Vaillant, whose hunting propensities were immediately awakened by the sight of a wild animal, frequently amused himself with firing at this new species of game. He could never perceive, however, that his balls produced the least effect upon them. But in Mutton Island, situated in the entrance of the bay, his fowlingpiece was more fortunate; for, from the prodigious number of rabbits with which that isle abounded, he found it easy on all occasions to kill as many as he pleased. In fact, this little isle became the warren of the whole fleet.
Various species of game abounded in the neighbourhood, among which the principal were the partridge and the hare, and that small kind of gazelle denominated steen-bock by the colonists. The panther, too, following in the track of his prey, was found in great numbers in this district. A few days after his arrival Le Vaillant was invited by the commandant to join him in a hunting-party. Their chase was unsuccessful: they killed nothing. Towards the close of the day, as if fate had decreed that his courage should at once be put to the proof, Le Vaillant found himself separated from his companion; and continuing as he proceeded to fire at intervals, in the hope of arousing the game, he started a small gazelle, which his dog immediately pursued. The gazelle was quickly out of sight, but the dog, which still seemed to be upon his track, stopped on the skirts of a large thicket, and began to bark. Le Vaillant, who had now no doubt that the game had taken refuge there, hastened to the spot with all the eagerness of a sportsman. His presence encouraged the dog, and he every moment expected to see the gazelle appear; but at length, growing impatient, he entered into the thicket, beating the bushes aside with his fowlingpiece. It is difficult, however, to describe the terror and confusion he experienced when, instead of a timid and feeble gazelle, he saw before him a tremendous panther, whose glaring eyes were fixed upon him, while its outstretched neck, gaping jaws, and low, hollow growl seemed to announce its intention of springing. He regarded himself as lost. But the calm courage of his dog saved his life. It kept the animal at bay, hesitating between rage and fear, until the traveller had retreated out of the thicket. He then made towards the house of the commandant with all possible speed, frequently looking behind him as he ran.
Another kind of terror shortly after seized upon him at sea. He was sitting at supper with the captain and the other officers, when a sudden strange motion was observed in the ship. Every person immediately ran on deck. The whole crew were alarmed. Some imagined they had run upon their anchors, and were beating against the rocks; others accounted for the shock in a different manner; but, perceiving from the position of the other ships that they were still exactly where they had been before, no one could conjecture the cause of what had happened, and their alarm was redoubled. Presently, however, upon more careful observation, a whale was discovered entangled by the tail, between the ship’s cables, and making furious efforts to disengage itself. This was the cause of the singular motion they had felt. All hands now rushed with harpoons into the boat; but the obscurity of the night retarding their movements, the whale, just as they were ready to attack it, succeeded in disentangling its tail, and escaped.
In the entrance to Saldanha Bay there is a second small island, to which the colonists have given the name of the Marmotte. Upon this sequestered spot the captain of a Danish vessel, as our traveller had learned from tradition, having been long detained in the bay by contrary winds, had died there, and been buried by his crew. Le Vaillant now conceived the desire of visiting his grave. In sailing by this lonely rock, in the passage to and from Mutton Island, he had invariably been struck by a dull but startling sound, proceeding from the isle. He mentioned the circumstance to the captain. The good-natured navigator, anxious to oblige his guest, and perhaps himself desirous of beholding the Dane’s grave, replied, that if his wishes pointed that way they should immediately be gratified.
Next morning, accordingly, they proceeded towards the island. In proportion as they advanced, the noise, increasing in loudness, more and more excited their curiosity; and the sound of the waves, which broke with great violence against the rocks, contributed not a little to swell the deep murmur, the cause of which no one could conjecture. They landed at length amid spray and foam, and, clambering up the cliffs, succeeded with much difficulty in reaching the summit. Here they beheld a sight such, in the opinion of our traveller, as no mortal ever beheld before. There arose in a moment from the surface of the earth an impenetrable cloud, which formed, at the height of forty feet above their heads, a prodigious canopy, or rather sky, of birds of every kind and colour. “Cormorants, sea-swallows, pelicans,—in one word,” says he, “all the winged creatures of Southern Africa were collected, I verily believe, in that spot. The screams of so enormous a multitude of birds mingling together formed an infernal species of music, which seemed to rend the ear with its piercing notes.
“The alarm,” he adds, “was so much the greater, among these innumerable legions of birds, in that it was the females with whom we had principally to deal, it being the season of nesting. They had therefore their nests, their eggs, their young ones to defend, and were as fierce as so many harpies. They deafened us with their cries. They stooped upon the wing, and in darting past us, brushed our faces. It was in vain that we fired our pieces; nothing could frighten away this living cloud. We could scarcely take a single step without crushing some eggs or young birds: the earth was covered by them.”
They found the caverns and hollows of the rocks inhabited by seals and sea-lions, of the latter of which they killed one specimen of enormous size. The various creeks of the island afforded a retreat to the manchot, a species of penguin, two feet in height, the wings of which, being entirely devoid of feathers, are only used in swimming. On land they hang down by the side of the body in a negligent manner, and communicate to the appearance and air of the bird something peculiarly sinister and funereal. These dismal-looking birds crowded every part of the island, but were nowhere so numerous as about the Dane’s tomb, around which they clustered as if to defend it from violation, and with their startling, melancholy cry, which mingled with the roar of the seal and the sea-lion, gave an air of sadness to the scene which deeply affected the soul. In itself the tomb was rude and simple,—a single block of stone, without name or inscription.
During the whole of his stay on this part of the coast Le Vaillant was actively employed in adding to his collection, which, with his money, clothes, and papers, continued on board the Middleburg, the principal ship on the station. He had now been three months in this neighbourhood, which he had traversed in every direction. He still continued, however, to roam about with his dog and gun in search of birds and animals; but one day, on approaching the shore, the roaring of cannon struck his ear. He at first supposed it might be some fête given on board the ships, and hastened his march as much as possible, in the hope of sharing in the rejoicings. Upon his reaching the downs overlooking the bay, a very different spectacle presented itself. The Middleburg had just been blown up, and its burning fragments still filled the air, or lay widely scattered upon the sea! Here, then, was the end of all his hopes; for not only the results of his labours, but his fortune, the basis upon which all his projects were founded, was now destroyed.
The cause of this calamity was soon discovered. The English fleet, having obtained intelligence of the retreat of the Dutch, had burst upon them so suddenly, that the terrified commanders had all, with the exception of Vangenep, the commander of the Middleburg, been taken unawares, and prevented from executing the orders they had received, rather to run aground, sink, or blow up their ships, than suffer them to fall into the hands of the enemy. Instead of this, they all abandoned their vessels at the first appearance of the English, the sailors, notwithstanding their apprehensions of the enemy, carrying away with them every thing they could bring on shore, though the desire to escape beyond reach of the English cannon quickly compelled them to cast their burdens on the ground. Everywhere the roads and paths were crowded with fugitives, and covered with the plunder which they had abandoned on the way. Among the rest, an English prisoner was flying from the shore. Le Vaillant met him, and having, as well as he could, questioned him in English respecting the horrible catastrophe, was expecting an answer, when a cannon-ball carried off his head, and the answer with it. A large dog, which was running about wild and trembling, apparently in search of his master, was next moment killed by another ball; and Le Vaillant, apprehensive that the third might reach himself, immediately fled over the downs, and ensconced himself behind an eminence.
His position at this moment, it must be confessed, was sufficiently calamitous. To repair to the Cape, there to petition among a crowd of adventurers and unfortunates for pecuniary aid, was a step he could ill brook; yet, unless he submitted to this humiliation, what must be his fate? His family, his friends, his adopted country were two thousand leagues distant. His whole resources now consisted in his fowlingpiece, the clothes he then wore, and ten ducats. His misfortunes presented themselves to his mind in all their horrors, and he burst into tears,—a trait of weakness for which he might have pleaded the example of Homer’s and Virgil’s poetical heroes. An honest colonist, however, to whose house he repaired in this extremity, received him with a frank hospitality, which in some degree dissipated his chagrin; and he next day returned, though not without melancholy, to the first elements of his collection.
His misfortunes were soon known at the Cape, and in a few days after this occurrence he was again placed, by the friendship of M. Boers, the fiscal, in a condition to act as if nothing had happened. He therefore directed his attention to the preparations required by his projected journey into the interior; and these, from the style in which he designed to travel, were numerous and considerable. He caused to be constructed two large four-wheeled wagons, covered above with double canvass, in one of which were placed five large packing-cases, which exactly filled the bottom of the vehicle, and could be opened without being removed. Over these was spread a mattress, on which he might occasionally sleep; and on this mattress, which during the day was rolled up in the back of the wagon, he placed the cabinet fitted up with drawers, in which he intended to preserve his insects. The other cases were filled with powder, lead for casting balls, tobacco, hardware, brandy, and toys. He had sixteen fowlingpieces, one of which, calculated for shooting elephants, rhinoceroses, and hippopotami, carried a quarter of a pound ball. Besides these he had several pairs of double-barrelled pistols, a scimitar, and a dagger.
The second wagon carried his kitchen utensils, which, as he was rather addicted to luxurious eating, were numerous for a traveller: a gridiron, a frying-pan, two kettles, a caldron, tea-kettles, tea-pots, coffee-pots, basins, plates, dishes, &c. of porcelain. To supply these he laid in a large store of white sugar, coffee, tea, chocolate, and sugar-candy. His brandy and tobacco, to the use of which he was not at all addicted, were designed to purchase friends among the natives, and to keep his Hottentot attendants in good-humour. In addition to his wagons he had a great and a small tent, and numerous other conveniences, which he describes with great complacency. His train consisted of five Hottentots, nine dogs, and thirty oxen; but both his servants and his cattle were afterward considerably increased.
Le Vaillant judged rightly, that on proceeding on such an expedition it would be imprudent to have any associate of equal rank. Few men are calculated by nature to become travellers, though every person whose constitution will endure fatigue may perform a journey; but there are still fewer who are gifted with those happy qualities which render men desirable companions in an undertaking whence fame is expected to be derived. Some, from feebleness of purpose, desert you almost at the outset, and, to conceal their own pusillanimity, represent you in their coteries as feeble, or selfish, or impracticable; others, more mischievous still, proceed so far that they cannot return, but, clinging to your skirts, contrive on every trying occasion to impede your movements, or cast a damp upon your energies; while a third class, too brave to feel alarm, too consistent to shrink from an enterprise begun, too honest to misrepresent you, will yet thwart your designs through obstinacy, or through the pardonable but fatal desire to follow a plan of their own. For these reasons our traveller, though solicited by many who would have gladly borne him company, steadily refused to admit of an associate, and determined to proceed on his journey alone.
His preparations being at length completed, he took leave of his friends, and departed from Cape Town on the 18th of December, 1781. Whatever be the natural condition of man, his mind never so powerfully experiences the emotions of delight as when, escaping voluntarily from the restraints of society and civilization, he finds himself his own master, and trusting to his own prowess for protection, on the virgin bosom of the earth; for of all the enjoyments which Heaven bestows upon mankind perfect liberty is the sweetest. Something of this Le Vaillant now tasted; for, although still within the pale of the laws and the purlieus of government, he saw himself on the way to the freedom of the woods, and partook by anticipation of those pleasures which to the savage are, perhaps, an ample equivalent for the gratification which letters and refinement afford.
The direction of his course lay along the eastern coast, towards the country of the Kaffers. At intervals the houses of colonists, with their orchards and plantations, appeared; but they became thinner as he advanced, while the woods and general scenery increased in magnificence; and the troops of wild animals, such as the zebra and the antelope, which stretched themselves out like armies on the plain, became strikingly more numerous and of more frequent occurrence. “We likewise,” says the traveller, “saw several ostriches; and the variety and the movements of these vast hordes were particularly amusing. My dogs fiercely pursued all these different species of animals, which, mingling together in their flight, often formed but one enormous column. This confusion, however, like that of theatrical machines, lasted but for a moment. I recalled my dogs, and in an instant each animal had regained his own herd, which constantly kept at a certain distance from all the others.” Among these animals were the blue antelope, the rarest and most beautiful of all the known species of gazelle.
The habits of a small kind of tortoise, which afforded them the materials of various feasts during this part of the journey, are very remarkable. When the great heats of summer arrive, and dry up the ponds in which they pass the winter, they descend into the earth in search of humidity, deeper and deeper in proportion as the sun penetrates farther and farther into the soil. In this position they remain plunged in a kind of lethargy until the return of the rainy season; but those who require them for food may always, by digging, discover an ample supply. Their eggs, which they lay on the brink of the small lakes and ponds which they inhabit, and abandon to be hatched by the sun, are about the size of those of the pigeon, and extremely good eating.
Le Vaillant was careful as he went along to augment his followers, both rational and irrational. He hired several new Hottentots, and purchased a number of oxen, with a milch-cow, and some she-goats, whose milk he foresaw might be an important possession in various circumstances. He likewise purchased a cock to awake him in the morning, and a monkey, which, besides serving as an almost unerring taster, his instinct enabling him immediately to distinguish such fruits and herbs as were innoxious and wholesome from such as were hurtful, was a still better watchman even than the dog, as the slightest noise, the most distant sign of danger, instantly awakened his terrors, and, by the cries and gestures of fear which it extorted from him, put his master upon his guard.
Thus accompanied, he continued his journey towards the east, until his progress was stopped by the Dove’s River, upon the banks of which he determined to encamp until the decrease of its waters should render it fordable. His mode of life, which the hospitable invitations of the neighbouring colonists, to whom the sight of a stranger was like a spring in the desert, were not suffered to interrupt, was exceedingly agreeable. “I regulated,” says he, “the employment of my time, which was usually spent in the following manner:—At night, when not travelling, I slept in my wagon or in my tent; awakened by the break of day by my cock, my first business was to prepare my coffee, while the Hottentots, on their part, were busied about the cattle. As soon as the sun appeared I took my fowlingpiece, and, setting out with my monkey, beat about the neighbourhood until ten o’clock. On returning to my tent, I always found it well swept and clean. The superintendence of this part of my economy had been confided to the care of an old African whose name was Swanspoel, who, not being able to follow us in our rambles, was intrusted with the government of the camp, and invariably maintained it in good order. The furniture of my tent was not very abundant; a camp-stool or two, a table appropriated to the dissection of my animals, and a few instruments required in their preparation constituted the whole of its ornaments. From ten o’clock until twelve I was employed in my tents, classing in my drawers the insects I had found. I then dined. Placing upon my knees a small board covered with a napkin, a single dish of roasted or broiled meat was served up. After this frugal meal I returned to my work, if I had left any thing unfinished, and then amused myself with hunting until sunset. I then retired to my tent, lighted a candle, and spent an hour or two in describing my discoveries or the events of the day in my journal. Meanwhile, the Hottentots were employed in collecting the cattle, and penning them around the tents and wagons. The she-goats, as soon as they had been milked, lay down here and there among the dogs. Business being over, and the customary great fire kindled, we gathered together in a circle. I then took my tea; my people joyously smoked their pipes, and for my amusement related stories, the humorous absurdity of which almost made me crack my sides with laughter. I delighted to encourage them, and they were by no means timid with me, as I was careful to treat them with frankness, cordiality, and attention. On many occasions, in fact, when the beauty of the evening succeeding the fatigues of the day had put me in good-humour with myself and with every thing about me, I involuntarily yielded to the spell, and gently cherished the illusion. At such moments every one disputed with his neighbour for the honour of amusing me by his superior wit; and by the profound silence which reigned among us, the able story-teller might discover how highly we appreciated his art. I know not what powerful attraction continually leads my memory back to those peaceful days! I still imagine myself in the midst of my camp, surrounded by my people and my animals; an agreeable site, a mountain, a tree,—nay, even a plant, a flower, or a fragment of rock scattered here and there,—nothing escapes from my memory; and this spectacle, which daily grows more and more affecting, amuses me, follows me into all places, and has often made me forget what I have suffered from men who call themselves civilized.”
Provisions were plentiful; partridges as large as pheasants, and two kinds of antelopes, whose flesh was tender and nourishing. The colonists of the vicinity, rendered generous by abundance, gratuitously furnished him with an ample provision of milk, fruit, and vegetables, which the traveller shared with his monkey and his Hottentots. From this position, however, he was at length, by the shrinking of the river, enabled to remove; and, continuing to pursue his route in the same direction as before, he crossed several diminutive streams, and arrived on the banks of the river Gaurits, where, the stream not being fordable, he encamped for three days among groves of mimosa-trees. Perceiving no sign of abatement in the waters, he then constructed a raft, upon which his wagons and baggage were ferried over, while the oxen and other animals swam across.
His road during this part of the journey lay at no great distance from the sea, which therefore communicated a refreshing coolness to the breezes, presented him at intervals with magnificent prospects, and at the same time administered pabulum to his passion for shooting, its solitary margin affording a retreat to thousands of flamingoes and pelicans. His animals, meanwhile, fared luxuriously. The soil throughout these districts was remarkable for its fertility; but a small canton, a little to the east of Mossel Bay, called the country of the Auteniquas, surpassed in beauty and magnificence all the landscapes of southern Africa. Having with considerable toil ascended to the summit of a mountain, “we were well repaid,” says Le Vaillant, “for the fatigue which we had undergone. Our admiration was excited by the loveliest country in the world. In the distance appeared the chain of mountains covered with forests, which bounded the prospect on the west; beneath our feet the eye wandered over an immense valley, the aspect of which was diversified by hillocks, infinitely varied in form, and descending in wavy swells towards the sea. Richly enamelled meadows and splendid pasture-grounds still further increased the beauty of this magnificent landscape. I was literally in ecstasy. This country bears the name of Auteniquas, which, in the Hottentot idiom, signifies ‘the man laden with honey;’ and, in fact, we could not proceed a single step without beholding a thousand swarms of bees. The flowers grew in myriads, and the mingled perfume which exhaled from them, and deliciously intoxicated the senses, their colours, their variety, the cool pure air which we breathed, every thing united to arrest our footsteps. Nature has bestowed the charms of fairy-land upon this spot. Almost every flower was filled with exquisite juices, and furnished the bees with abundant materials for the fabrication of their honey, which they deposited in every hollow rock and tree.”
This description, which no doubt falls far short of the reality—for what language can equal the beauties of nature?—reminds me strongly of Spenser’s noble picture of the Gardens of Adonis. Poetry itself, however, with all its metaphors and picturesque expressions, is faint and dim compared with the splendour of a summer landscape, where earth, air, and sea unite their rich hues and sublime aspect to entrance and dazzle the eye. But our old bard, whom no man ever excelled in minute painting of inanimate nature, contrives, by careful and repeated touches, to unfold before the imagination an exquisite view. “There,” says he, speaking of the gardens of the Assyrian youth,
“There is continual spring, and harvest there
Continual, both meeting at one time:
For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear
And with fresh flowers deck the wanton prime,
And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,
Which seem to labour under their fruit’s load:
The while the joyous birds make their pastime,
Among the shady leaves, their sweet abode,
And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.
And all about grew every sort of flower,
To which sad lovers were transformed of yore,” &c.
The dwellings which the few colonists, who had been led by poverty so far from the Cape, erected in the midst of this smiling scene, offered a striking contrast with it. Huts covered with earth, like the dens of wild animals, in which the inhabitants passed the night stretched upon a buffalo’s hide, afforded shelter to men who lived in plenty, and were thus badly lodged from mere idleness. It is now inhabited by Englishmen, and the contrast, it may well be imagined, no longer exists.
Le Vaillant, who apprehended that the country of the Auteniquas might prove a kind of Capua to his followers, made no stay in it, but pushed forward with all speed, and encamped on the skirts of an immense forest. This wood abounded with touracos, a species of bird of which he had hitherto been able to procure no specimen. His first business therefore was, if possible, to possess himself of this bird. His scientific ardour was kindled. He scoured the woods. The touraco presented itself before him, but its habits unfortunately inclining it always to perch upon the tops of the loftiest trees, he could never succeed in bringing it down. One afternoon, however, his eagerness increasing with his disappointments, he determined not to desist from the pursuit of his prey, and the bird, which appeared to delight in mocking him, confined itself to short flights, flitting from tree to tree, until it had drawn him to a considerable distance from his camp. Growing impatient, at length the traveller, though still believing the bird beyond the reach of his fowlingpiece, fired, and had the unexpected satisfaction of seeing it drop from the tree. His joy now knew no bounds. He rushed on to snatch up his prey,
Thorough bush, thorough briar,
until his hands and legs were dripping with blood; but when he came up to the spot where the touraco should have been, he could discover nothing. He searched the surrounding thickets again and again; he proceeded farther, he returned, he examined the same spots twenty times, he peeped into every bush, into every hole; his labour was in vain. No touraco. “I was,” says he, “in despair, and the thick brushwood and thorny shrubs, which had now covered even my very face with blood, had irritated me in an indescribable manner. Nothing less than the appearance of a lion or a tiger could at that moment have calmed my rage. That a wretched bird, which, after so many wishes and so much toil, I had at length succeeded in bringing down, should after all escape from me in so unaccountable a manner! I struck my fowlingpiece against the earth, and stamped with passion. All at once the ground gave way under my feet; I disappeared, and sunk, with my arms in my hand, into a pit twelve feet deep. Astonishment, and the pain caused by the fall, now succeeded my rage. I saw myself in one of those covered pitfalls which the Hottentots construct for the taking of wild beasts, particularly the elephant. When I had recovered from my surprise I began to reflect upon the means of escaping, and congratulated myself that I had not fallen upon the sharp stake fixed up at the bottom of the pit to impale the wild animals, and that I found no company in the snare. But as it was every moment possible that some might arrive, particularly during the night, should I be compelled to remain there so long, my terrors quickly increased as darkness approached, and retarded the execution of the only plan I could imagine for extricating myself without assistance; this was to cut out a kind of steps with my sabre in the sides of the pit, but this operation would be a tedious one. In this dilemma the idea of the only rational plan suggested itself; which was, to pick up and load my fusil. I did so, and fired shot after shot. It was possible I might be heard by my attendants. I therefore listened from time to time with the most painful anxiety and a palpitating heart, in order to discover whether my signal had been heard. At last two shots re-echoed through the wood, and overwhelmed me with joy. I now continued firing at intervals, in order to guide my deliverers to the spot, and in a short time they arrived, armed to the teeth, and full of uneasiness and alarm.”
He was immediately delivered from the elephant-trap; but having incurred so much risk in searching for the touraco, he made it a point of honour not to be balked, and recommencing his scrutiny, with the dogs which had arrived with his servants, found it jammed close under a small bush. He immediately seized upon his prey, and the pleasure of possessing this new and rare bird very quickly obliterated from his memory the trouble and danger which it had cost him.
In this encampment they remained until the setting in of the rains, when storms, accompanied by tremendous thunder, succeeded each other with singular rapidity. The thunderbolt several times fell near them in the forest. The whole country round was flooded, but they still clung to their encampment, until the whole was at length overflowed during the night. They then removed; but could proceed but a very short distance, for every paltry stream was now swelled to a furious torrent, which rushed down with impetuosity from the hills, rolling along with it mud, trees, and fragments of rock, and threatening whoever should attempt to traverse them with destruction. Meanwhile his cattle, pressed by hunger, had escaped from the camp; his dogs, which no degree of want could estrange, were reduced to skeletons, and fought with each other for the most revolting food; his Hottentots, less affectionate than the dogs, began to murmur, but could discover no just cause of complaint, and were but little disposed to aid themselves. A drowned buffalo, however, which was accidentally found in one of the torrents, came opportunely to appease their hunger; they dragged it on shore with shouts of joy, and having cut it in pieces, and given the dogs their share, they feasted upon the remainder and were happy.
At length the month of March arrived, and the rains abated. The torrents, ceasing to receive their aliments from the clouds—for, like the Nile, they are strictly διϊὲες—shrunk to their ordinary insignificance, the camp was immediately put in motion, and pushing onwards for a few leagues, they discovered a more convenient site on the acclivity of a hill, where they remained some time to recruit themselves and their cattle. Le Vaillant travelled for pleasure, and was gifted with the happy faculty of discovering at a glance its springs and sources. Near the site of his camp there was a small eminence, the summit of which was crowned with a diminutive grove, where the trees had so grown into each other that the whole seemed one solid mass of foliage. He immediately conceived the idea of transforming this thicket into a palace; and causing a covered entrance to be cut into the centre, he there hewed out two large square apartments, one of which was immediately converted into a study, and the other into a kitchen. If we keep out of sight the kitchen, and the share which art had in its formation, Spenser has admirably described this arbour, as well as the hill on which it stood:
Right in the middest of that paradise
There stood a stately mount, on whose round top
A gloomy grove of myrtle-trees did rise,
Whose shady boughs sharp steel did never lop,
Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop.
But like a girlond compassed the height,
And from their fruitful sides sweet gum did drop,
That all the ground, with precious dew bedight,
Threw forth most dainty odours and most sweet delight.
And in the thickest covert of that shade
There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,
But of the trees’ own inclination, made,
Which knitting their rank branches, part to part,
With wanton ivy-twine entrailed athwart,
And eglantine and caprifole among,
Fashioned above within their inmost part,
That neither Phœbus’ beams could through them throng,
Nor Æolus’ sharp blast could work them any wrong.
But, whatever charms his arbours might possess for him, his plans rendered it necessary soon to leave them. He therefore, after spending a pleasant week with M. Mulder, the last of the colonists in his route, pushed on towards the Black River, which he crossed on rafts, and at length found himself beyond the Dutch settlements. Here an accident occurred which might at once have terminated his journey. In toiling up a rough, precipitous mountain, where it was found necessary to yoke twenty oxen to a wagon, the traces of the principal vehicle snapped asunder, immediately in front of the great shaft-oxen, which being unable to resist the enormous weight to which they were attached, reeled back, and the wagon at once rolled down along the edge of an abyss; while Le Vaillant and his whole party stood still, watching, with uplifted hands and looks of dismay, each shock and slide of the cumbrous machine, which, after twenty hair-breadth escapes, ran against a large rock on the edge of the torrent, and stopped, without receiving any material injury. Loss of time, therefore, was the only injury he sustained. By patience and industry they succeeded in passing the mountain, which being effected, they descended into a magnificent country, watered by numerous rivers, covered with woods, abounding in game, and affording numerous specimens of birds and quadrupeds unknown to natural history.
In the midst of this new scene he was overtaken by disease. Though of a disposition naturally intrepid, the idea that he might be destined to perish in the wilderness, surrounded by savages, two thousand leagues from home, disturbed his imagination. Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, attacked by a fever when flying through the Ukraine after the battle of Pultowa, experienced a diminution of courage, and, unless my memory deceive me, was seen to shed tears; and Cæsar, when the fit, as Shakspeare has it, was on him, cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius, like a sick girl.” Le Vaillant, therefore, had good authority for his melancholy. His temperament, moreover, in proportion as it was more susceptible of exhilarating impressions in health, was proner in sickness to yield to despondency. He was, besides, entirely ignorant of medicine; knew nothing of the nature of the disease by which he was attacked; and was surrounded by persons still more ignorant than himself. All he could do, therefore, was to remain quiet, and allow nature to work. For twelve days he lingered on the confines of life and death, kept in a perpetual bath of perspiration by the heat of the atmosphere; and this heat was his Pæon and Æsculapius, for by its sole aid the fever, which had so fiercely menaced him, was entirely subdued. However, it is extremely probable that he owed the disease as well as the remedy to the climate. To enhance his misfortunes, his Hottentots were at the same time attacked by dysentery; but, by strictly attending to regimen, a difficult task to a gross and sensual people, they all, without exception, recovered.
This danger being removed, they proceeded on their journey, the interest of which was every day increased by the greater solitude of the scene, and the more frequent occurrence of wild animals, or their traces. I would willingly describe at length the pleasures and the adventures of this romantic excursion; but my plan forbids me to indulge in voluminous details, and I want the art to present by a few masterly strokes the whole of a complicated and animated scene to the mind. However, I must attempt what I can. After wandering a full month in a vast plain, intersected by forests, and, in a manner, walled round by precipices, they were driven back upon their own footsteps, fatigued and mortified, and unable to conjecture in what direction it would be possible to advance. While they were in this humour, they discovered in their route the footmarks of a herd of elephants. To Le Vaillant, who had never yet enjoyed the satisfaction of hunting this enormous animal, though it might, perhaps, be said to have constituted one of his principal reasons for travelling in Africa, the sight was sufficient to restore his equanimity. The order for halting was immediately given, and having, as soon as the tents were pitched, selected five of his best marksmen, our traveller set out in pursuit of the game.
The traces were so fresh and striking, that they had no difficulty in following them. They therefore pushed on vigorously, expecting every moment to come in sight of the herd. But still they saw nothing; and night coming on, they bivouacked in the woods, and having supped gayly, lay down to sleep, though not without considerable agitation and alarm. At every puff of wind rustling through the leaves, at every hum of a beetle, the whole party was roused, and put upon its guard. It was feared that the monsters of which they were in search might rush upon them unawares, and trample them to atoms. However, the night passed away, as did likewise the day and night ensuing, without their being disturbed by any thing more formidable than a stray buffalo, which approaching the fire, and discovering that it was in the vicinity of man, rushed back with all speed into the woods.
On the third day, after a painful march among briers and underwood, they arrived in a rather open part of the forest, when one of the Hottentots, who had climbed up into a tree to reconnoitre, perceived the herd in the distance, and putting his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, informed them by opening and closing his hand of the number of the elephants. He then came down; a council was held; and it was determined they should approach them on the lee-side that they might not be discovered. The Hottentot now conducted Le Vaillant through the bushes to a small knoll, and desiring him to cast his eyes in a certain direction, pointed out an enormous elephant not many paces distant. At first, however, Le Vaillant could see nothing; or, rather, he mistook what he saw of the animal for a portion of the rock by which it stood. But when at length a slight motion had corrected his mistake, he distinguished the head and enormous tusks of the beast turned towards him. He instantly levelled his musket, and, aiming at the brain, fired, and the elephant dropped down dead. The report of the gun put the whole herd, consisting of about thirty, to instant flight; and our traveller beheld with amazement their huge ears flapping the air with a violence in proportion to the rapidity of their motion.
The whole party now experienced that joyous alacrity which man always feels when engaged in the work of destruction. They fired upon the enemy, for as such the beasts were now to be regarded, and the sight of the excrements mingled with blood, which escaped from the wounded animal, and informed them that their bullets had taken effect, delighted them exceedingly. Their pursuit now became more eager. The elephant, writhing with pain, at one moment crouched to the earth, at another rose, but only to fall again. The hunters, however, who hung close upon his haunches, constantly by fresh volleys compelled him to rise. In this condition he rushed through the woods, snapping off, or uprooting trees in his passage. At length, becoming furious with pain, he turned round upon his pursuers, who immediately fled in their turn. Le Vaillant, more eager than the rest, had unhappily advanced before them, and was now but twenty-five paces from the animal. His gun of thirty pounds’ weight impeded his movements. The enemy gained upon him every moment. His followers gave him up for lost; but just as the elephant had overtaken him, he dropped down, and crept under the trunk of a fallen tree, over which the furious beast, whose great height prevents it, at least in such situations, from seeing under its feet, bounded in an instant. Being terrified, however, by the noise of the Hottentots, it had not advanced many paces before it stopped, and with a wild but searching eye, began to reconnoitre the spot. Our traveller had his long gun in his hand, and might, had he chosen, have fired upon his enemy; but he knew that instant destruction must ensue should he miss his aim, and he therefore preferred trusting to the chances of concealment. Presently the elephant faced about, and drew near the tree; but he again leaped over it without perceiving Le Vaillant, who, as soon as he retreated to a sufficient distance, sprang from his hiding-place, and shot him in the flank. Notwithstanding all this, he succeeded in effecting his escape, though his bloody traces too clearly showed the terrible condition to which their balls had reduced him. In this critical conjuncture, Klaas, his principal Hottentot, exhibited proofs of courage and affection which infinitely endeared him to his master, who thenceforward regarded him more in the light of a brother than a servant.
To those who have all their lives been accustomed to live upon the flesh of the ox and the sheep, elephant cutlets may appear revolting; but in the deserts of Africa, where imperious hunger silences the objections of prejudice, and teaches man to regard the whole animal creation as his farmyard, the palate quickly accommodates itself to the viands within its reach, and even learns to discover delicacy in things which, in a fashionable dining-room, it might have loathed. However this may be, Le Vaillant and his Hottentots, whose appetites were grievously sharpened by fatigue, immediately employed themselves in cutting up and cooking their game. For the former, as the most dainty personage of the party, a few slices off the trunk were broiled, and he found them so exquisite that, being as I have already said, to a certain degree, an epicure, they gave him a taste for elephant hunting, which he afterward seized every occasion of indulging. But he was informed by Klaas that by far the greatest delicacy, which would cause him to forget the flavour of the trunk, was yet to come. This consisted of the elephant’s foot, which his people undertook to dress for his breakfast.
The reader who has perused Captain Cook’s “Voyages in the South Seas,” or Ledyard, or the “Histoire Naturelle de l’Homme” of Lesson, will remember the description given by those navigators of the curious subterranean ovens employed by the native islanders in cooking. A large opening is made in the earth, which is filled with red-hot stones or charcoal, and upon these a great fire is kept up for several hours. The hole is then cleared, and the thing which is to be baked inserted in the centre. Then the top is again closed, and a blazing fire once more kindled; which, having burned during a great part of the night, is at length extinguished, when the oven is opened, and the meat taken out, more exquisitely cooked than any man accustomed to the ordinary culinary processes can conceive.
Such was the process by which the elephant’s feet were baked for Le Vaillant. When they presented him one for breakfast, “The cooking,” says he, “had enlarged it prodigiously; I could scarcely recognise the form. But it looked so nice, and exhaled so delicious an odour, that I was impatient to taste it. It was a breakfast for a king. I had heard much of the excellence of bears’ feet, but could not have conceived that an animal so awkward, so material as the elephant, could have afforded so tender, so delicate a meat. Never have our modern Luculluses, thought I, seen any thing comparable upon their tables; it is in vain that they confound and reverse the seasons by the force of gold, and lay all the countries in the world under contribution: there are bounds to their craving sensuality; they have never been able to reach this point.” I do not see, however, what should prevent our rearing elephants, as we rear sheep and oxen, for the slaughter; in which case many persons, not ambitious of rivalling Lucullus in luxury, might enjoy the sight of this ne plus ultra of cooking upon their tables.
In proceeding eastward from this spot they encountered a horde of wandering Hottentots, with whose women our traveller’s followers, now considerably increased in number, contracted connexions with that easy effrontery which, at first consideration, would appear to be an attribute peculiar to civilized man. Le Vaillant is the apologist of the Hottentots; they were the instruments of his pleasure. His imagination associated them with romantic wanderings, with adventures, with dangers, with escapes; and when, after his return to France, he wished to remember and paint them in their true colours, the idea that they had been his companions, that they had suffered privations, and tasted of many enjoyments together, rushed into his mind, and blinded his judgment by interesting his heart. This natural result is not dishonourable to his feelings; but it can have no influence with me. I have received from them neither good nor harm. I must, therefore, confess that in my estimation they rank very low, even in the scale of savage excellence. Timid even to cowardliness, they are not urged by their temperament towards violence and bloodshed: but this induces cringing and dastardly habits, and causes them to desert their dearest friends when in danger. Gratitude is a plant which flourishes only in noble breasts. Among the Hottentots it is feeble and shortlived, unless nourished by a constant stream of benefits. That they have little religion, or superstition, though no proof of immorality, is an incontrovertible evidence of want of capacity and genius; for intellect, wherever it exists, is skilful in the discovery of intellect, and few, even among savage nations, are cursed with perceptions so obtuse that they cannot, if I may venture so to express myself, discover the footsteps of the sovereign intellect among the phenomena of the visible world. How far the profound indifference in which they are said to grovel on this point may exist, however, I will not presume to determine. It is possible that travellers may sometimes make these and similar savages the interpreters of their own thoughts.
On approaching the country of the Kaffers, a brave and warlike people, exceedingly hostile to the Hottentots, whom they regarded as the slaves and spies of the colonists, the most terrible apprehensions were awakened in his camp. Night and day they were on the alert. Every sound which startled the darkness was transformed, by their terror, into the footsteps of a Kaffer; and if they did not at once burst into open mutiny against their chief, it was rather the fear of the dangers to which the loss of him might expose them, than any ideas of discipline or fidelity, that restrained them.
Le Vaillant’s determination, nevertheless, still was to advance into Kaffraria; but finding after repeated endeavours that no argument could prevail upon his attendants, a very small number excepted, to accompany him, he contented himself with despatching an envoy to the Kaffer king, or chief. Meanwhile he continued to roam about on the frontiers, hunting, shooting, and adding to his collections. Here he encountered the fury of an African tempest. “The rain,” he observes, “fell all night in such abundance, that, in spite of all our efforts, it extinguished our fires. Our dogs made an indescribable clamour, and kept us awake all night, though no wild beast appeared. I have observed that during these rainy nights the lion, the tiger, and the hyena are never heard; but the danger is increased twofold; for, as they still roam about, they thus fall suddenly and unexpectedly on their prey. Still further to increase the fright which this unfortunate fact must occasion, the great humidity almost entirely deprives the dogs of the power of smelling, which renders them of little use. Of this danger my people were well aware, and therefore laboured with remarkable energy to keep alive the fires.
“It must be confessed,” he continues, “that the stormy nights of the African deserts are the very image of desolation, and that terror, on such occasions, involuntarily comes over one. When you are overtaken by these deluges, your tents and mats are quickly drenched and overflowed; a continual succession of lightning-flashes causes you twenty times in a minute to pass abruptly and suddenly from the most terrific light to entire darkness: the deafening roarings of the thunder, which burst from every side with horrible din, roll, as it were, against each other, are multiplied by the echoes, and hurled from peak to peak; the howling of the domestic animals; short intervals of fearful silence; every thing concurs to render those moments more melancholy. The danger to be apprehended from wild beasts still further increases the terror; and nothing but day can lessen the alarm, and restore nature to her tranquillity.”
In the interim between the departure and return of his messengers to the Kaffer chief, he fell in with a horde of wild Hottentots whom he denominates Gonaquas. A small party of them arrived at his camp during the night, and on awaking in the morning he saw himself with surprise surrounded by about twenty strange savages. They were accompanied by their chief, who advanced in a polite manner to pay his respects to the traveller, while the women, at once curious and timid, followed close behind, adorned with all their ornaments. Their bodies, the greater part of which was naked, were all newly anointed and sprinkled with red powder, which exhaled an agreeable perfume; while their faces had been painted in a variety of fashions. Each came, in the manner of the East, bringing or bearing a present. From one he received a number of ostrich’s eggs, a lamb from a second, while a third presented him with a quantity of milk in baskets. These baskets, woven with exquisite ingenuity with fine reeds or roots, are of so close a texture, that they may be used in carrying water. The chief’s present consisted of a handful of ostrich feathers of rare beauty, which Le Vaillant, to show how highly he valued them, immediately fixed in his hat, instead of his own plume. He then, in return, laid before the old chief, whose name was Haabas, several pounds of tobacco, which the Gonaqua at once distributed in equal portions among his people, reserving merely his own share, which did not exceed any other person’s, for himself. Other gifts, highly valued by savages, such as tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and bracelets, were added to the tobacco, and diffused universal joy among the tribe.
Among the women there was a girl of sixteen, who, by the pleasure with which she seemed to regard his person, particularly attracted the attention of Le Vaillant. Considered as an African she might be pronounced beautiful, and her form, which would have tempted the pencil of an Albano, possessed all those amorous contours which we admire in the Graces. Our traveller appears to have been in general but little susceptible of the charms of women; but the beautiful Gonaqua quickly caused him to feel that when accompanied by a desire to please, female attractions are everywhere irresistible, and to express his admiration he bestowed upon the savage beauty the name of Narina, which, in the Hottentot idiom, signifies “a flower.” Presents, it may be easily imagined, were not spared in this instance. The riches of his camp were in her power,—shawls, necklaces, girdles, every ornament which his European taste loved to contemplate on the female form, was lavished on Narina, who, in the intoxicating delight of the moment, scarcely knew whether she was in heaven or earth. She felt her arms, her feet, her head; and the touch of her dress and ornaments caused fresh pleasure every moment. He then produced a small mirror, more faithful than the lake or stream which had hitherto served for this purpose, and put the finishing stroke to the picture by showing her her own image reflected from its surface. His days now passed in one uninterrupted series of feasts, visits, dances, amusements of every kind. Nothing could have been more favourable to his views of studying Hottentot manners; but with respect to his ulterior design of penetrating far into the solitudes of the desert, the case was different, for his followers contracted in these Circean bowers a disease from which their chief himself, perhaps, was not altogether exempt; that is, an effeminate aversion to fatigue, a secret repugnance to toil, and, what was still worse, the habit of viewing dangers in the light thrown over them by an enamoured fancy, which distorts even more powerfully than the mirage of the desert.
It was now three weeks since the departure of his messengers for Kaffer-land, and he began to entertain apprehensions for their safety. His attendants, who partook of the same fears, became more than ever averse to advance eastward, and, as he was quickly informed by Klaas, began to concert among themselves various schemes of desertion. The camp at this period was stationed near a river, on the rich banks of which his oxen were turned out to graze, under the care of several Hottentots, who were kept by their fear of the Kaffers in a strict attention to their duty. One day, when Le Vaillant was accidentally detained in his tent, a messenger from the herdsmen arrived in breathless haste, to announce the fearful intelligence that a party of the enemy was approaching, and had already reached the opposite side of the river. Klaas and four fusileers were immediately despatched to reconnoitre, while the traveller called out and examined his forces and his arms, and prepared to give the Kaffers a warm reception should their intentions be found to be hostile; but it was shortly discovered that they had been invited to his camp by his envoys, whom they had accordingly accompanied on their return.
Our traveller had with laudable patience acquired a knowledge of the Hottentot language, but the people who now thronged his camp spoke a different dialect, not one word of which could he conjecture the meaning. But the languages of savages are easy in proportion as they are simple and poor, and the acquisition of Greek or Arabic would probably cost more pains and study than would render a man master of half the uncultivated languages of the world. It was not long, therefore, before he learned to disentangle, as it were, the intertwisted sounds which re-echoed around him, and to assign a meaning to them. The Kaffers employed much gesticulation and grimace in speaking, which aided him, likewise, in divining their thoughts; and he soon began to entertain reasonable hopes that an interpreter might not always be necessary in his intercourse with this lively people.
He imagined that his firearms, and the skill with which he made use of them, inspired the Kaffers with wonder; but he was no doubt mistaken. His fancy placed him among those simple tribes described by early travellers and navigators, to whom our weapons were utterly unknown; while the savages who were now his guests had frequently fought hand to hand with the colonists, and not only beheld their firearms, but learned, at the expense of their blood, how destructive they were. This illusion, however, appears to have afforded him pleasure, and he honestly cherished it; and as no injury can arise from it to the reader, it will have been sufficient to allude to it thus briefly.
The history of his intercourse with this people affords a striking example of the incalculable benefits which one civilized man, who possessed courage to make the experiment, might confer upon a wild nation, whose Menû or Manco Capæ he would thus become. For genius the Kaffers are decidedly superior to the Hottentots; and if the picture which Le Vaillant draws of them be correct, it would require no very extraordinary impulse to launch them into the career of civilization. He saw them, however, but for a moment, as it were; for not long after their arrival, it was discovered that several half-castes, or bastards, as they are termed at the Cape, had been commissioned by the colonists to insinuate themselves into his camp, for the purpose of discovering whether or not he was entering into an alliance with the Kaffers. This, at least, was the interpretation which, after all the information he could obtain, he was induced to put upon the matter; but, like Rousseau, he seems to have amused himself with the idea that spies were continually placed upon his movements, and by this hypothesis he explained many little events resulting much less from design than from a fortuitous concourse of circumstances. Still, the poor Kaffers, who had suffered grievously by the Dutch, fully participated in his alarm, and made a precipitate retreat into their own country, but not before they had given him a pressing invitation to follow them.
Upon considering the state of the camp, and the inclinations of his people, it was judged imprudent to attempt against their will to lead them away farther from the colony; and therefore, selecting from among them a small number of the bravest, and leaving the remainder under the care of Swanspoel, he departed on his long-desired journey into Kaffer-land. Upon quitting the encampment they ascended the banks of the Great Fish River, and having forded its stream, entered Kaffer-land, moving in a north-easterly direction. The whole plain was covered with mimosa-trees, which, as Burckhardt observes, cast but a scanty shade. They were, therefore, greatly exposed to the heat of the sun, which was now intense. After marching for several days in this manner through a country which had once been inhabited, but was deserted now, and abandoned to the wild beasts, fires at night, deserted kraal, gardens overrun with weeds, and fields, the culture of which had recently been interrupted, inspired the belief that some half-stationary, half-wandering hordes must be in the neighbourhood.
The fatigue of the journey, united with a scarcity of water, began at length to cause the luxuries of the camp and the neighbourhood of the Great Fish River to be regretted; but although Le Vaillant himself evidently shared to a certain degree in these regrets, he was still unwilling to relinquish his enterprise before he caught a single glimpse of the Kaffers. At length a small party was discovered, whose dread of the whites equalled at least the terror with which they themselves inspired the pusillanimous Hottentots. From these men Le Vaillant learned that the greater part of the nation had retreated far into the interior, and as his imagination, at this time, seems to have exaggerated every difficulty and danger, for he was weary of the journey, he gladly seized upon the first excuse for relinquishing his enterprise, and returned with all possible celerity to his camp.
All his thoughts and wishes now pointed towards the Cape. Narina and the friendly Gonaquas in vain exerted their influence. The desert had lost its charms. For the moment he was weary of travelling. However, not to encounter in vain the fatigue of a long journey, he formed the design of verging a little to the north of his former route, through the immense solitudes of the Sneuw Bergen. The caravan, therefore, quitted the vicinity of the sea, and proceeded towards the west through forests of mimosa-trees, which were then in full flower, and imparted all the charms of summer to the landscape. The extreme silence of the nights during this part of the journey was sublime. All the functions of life seemed for the time to be suspended; except that, at intervals, the roaring of the lion resounded through the forests, startling the echoes, and according to the interpretation of the fancy, hushing the whole scene with terror.
At length, on the 3d of January, 1782, he discovered in the north-west the formidable summits of the Sneuw Bergen, which, though surrounded on all sides by burning plains, it being in those southern latitudes the height of summer, bore still upon its sides long ridges of snow. Prodigious herds of antelopes, amounting to more than fifty thousand in number, now crossed their route, driven by insufferable heat and drought towards the north. The scenery every league became more dreary. Wastes of sand, rocks piled upon each other, chasms, precipices, barrenness, sublimity, but no pasturage; and men in want of the necessaries of life regard as insipid whatever refuses to minister to their wants. Thus we can account for the little interest with which the sight of the Sneuw Bergen inspired Le Vaillant, who would otherwise appear to have been constitutionally deprived of that masculine energy which impels us rather to rejoice than be depressed at the sight of steril and desolate mountains, seldom trodden but by the brave, and seeming to have been expressly thrown up by nature as a rampart upon which freedom might successfully struggle against the oppressors of mankind. This is the true source of that indescribable delight with which we all tread upon mountain soil. A secret instinct seems to whisper to the heart the original design, if it may be said without impiety, with which those inexpugnable fastnesses were fashioned by the hand of God. “Here,” say we to ourselves, “here at least we may be free;” and we look down from these arid heights with scorn upon the possessors of the fattest pastures, if the mark of tyranny, like that of the Beast in the Apocalypse, is set upon the soil.
Le Vaillant’s enthusiasm, which greatly depended upon the state of his animal spirits, was now evaporating rapidly. His care and circumspection were likewise proportionably diminished, and, in consequence, the want of provisions and water was frequently experienced. To give a keener edge to these calamities and privations, it was rumoured among his followers that the recesses of the snowy mountains afforded a retreat to numerous Bushmans or banditti, men whom necessity or inclination had arrayed in opposition to the laws, and those who lived under their protection. Every privation was therefore borne with greater impatience. They considered themselves as persons wantonly exposed to danger by the caprice of their leader; hence his authority was daily less and less respected. Nevertheless, he drew near the mountains, and climbing up with difficulty to the summit of one of their peaks, enjoyed the wide prospect it afforded. This satisfied his curiosity, more particularly as three men, supposed to be bandits, were discovered among the ravines, but made their escape at their approach. A few days afterward one of these fierce robbers was killed in an attempt to murder one of the Hottentots of the escort.
The want of water, which they had already begun to experience, continued to increase as they advanced. The oxen, like the men, suffered extremely, and several of them dropped down, and were unable to rise again. The feet of the dogs were exceedingly lacerated; they limped along painfully, and with the greatest exertion. In one word, every man and animal in the camp required repose; and with inexpressible joy they at length saw the day of their arrival at the Cape, which put an end to the toils and sufferings of sixteen months.
Le Vaillant had not yet satisfied his locomotive passion, and had, indeed, notwithstanding the interest which his adventures inspire, seen but little of Africa. He now amused himself with visiting the various districts of the colony, and, among other spots, the extreme point of the promontory, which opposes its rocky snout to the eternal storms and waves of the Southern Ocean. Here, as with a sombre melancholy, he viewed the constant succession of the billows, which, confused and foaming under the influence of the winds, hurled themselves against the cliffs, a depression of soul came over him, and he compared the phenomenon before him to the life of man, and the annihilation which, according to his creed, succeeds it. This miserable dogma, the offspring of insane reasoning, and a distrust in the power or goodness of the Divinity, was at that period in dispute among the sophists of Europe; but I pity the man who could make so bestial a creed the companion of his soul amid the vast solitudes of the desert, where we might expect that the very winds of heaven would have winnowed away so vile a chaff, and rendered back its native whiteness and purity to the mind.
Returning to Cape Town, he began, but with less enthusiasm than on the former occasion, his preparations for a second journey into the interior. Experience, he imagined, had enabled him to improve upon his former plans. He had seen the country, he had studied its inhabitants. Had he not laid the foundation for almost certain success? The result showed how dim, how bounded, how little to be depended upon is human foresight.
His followers were now more numerous than formerly: eighteen men, one woman, three horses, thirteen dogs, three milch cows, eleven goats, and fifty-two oxen. With this train he departed from Saldanha Bay, June 15th, 1782, directing his course towards the north, along the western coast of Africa. During the early part of the journey, in the district of the Twenty-four Rivers, he found the prodigious nests of the Termites or white ant, which, though inferior in dimensions to those described by other travellers, were yet four feet in height. These ants, which are accounted a delicacy by the Chensu Karir, a wandering people of the Deccan, are likewise eaten by the Hottentots, who seem to regard them with a more favourable eye even than locusts, which are, however, highly esteemed.
Notwithstanding that, in pursuance of the advice of his Cape friends, he had set out in the rainy season, the party had not advanced far before the want of water was experienced. The men and oxen suffered extremely, but the dogs were still more severely afflicted, and several of them, after exhibiting symptoms of their approach to a state bordering upon hydrophobia, ran off into the desert, where they perished, or relapsed into their original wildness. The party was in this position when Le Vaillant, whose mind was tortured by the most gloomy forebodings, was startled from his reveries by the sharp cry of a bird which was passing over his head. It was a mountain duck, which, he doubted not, was proceeding towards a spring. He therefore put his horse to the gallop, and earnestly pursuing the flight of the bird with his eye, had very quickly the satisfaction of observing it alight upon a great rock, where it disappeared. Persuaded that it had stopped to drink, he clambered up the rock, and found in fact a large basin, or hollow in the rock, filled with water, in which the duck was gayly swimming about and amusing itself. He had not the ingratitude to fire at it, but he frightened it away, in the hope that, not having sufficiently quenched its thirst, it might fly to another cistern within sight; but in this he was disappointed. They now laid up a provision of water for several days, and having allowed all the cattle to quench their thirst, proceeded on their journey. During those excessive droughts, it was curious, when a shower came on, to behold the contrivance of the animals: observing that whatever water fell upon the sands was immediately absorbed and lost, while the quantity with which their own bodies were drenched ran down in little tread-like streams over their sides, they drew near to each other, and by applying their mouths to those diminutive currents, thus succeeded in quenching their excruciating thirst. I am surprised that, in the tremendous extremities to which our traveller and his followers were reduced by want of water, they never had recourse to a method which, disgusting and terrible as it may seem, has, I believe, been successfully tried for quenching thirst by other travellers, as well as by certain tribes of savages; I mean, to drink the blood of the animals they slaughtered. Man has no doubt a natural repugnance to such expedients, but may yield, under the pressure of imperious necessity, to whatever means, short of injustice, Providence may afford him of preserving life.
Upon arriving, after extraordinary privations and fatigue, upon the banks of the Elephant’s River, they indeed found water in abundance; but there was no pasture for the cattle, not even under the shade of the mimosas and willows which bordered the stream. All was burnt up. They proceeded farther inland, therefore, in search of verdure, and arrived on the banks of the Koïgnas, where they encamped upon a spot called the “Bat’s Rock.” From the fresh footmarks of the lion in the sand, they knew that there were enemies in the neighbourhood, and accordingly were more than ordinarily cautious in keeping watch, and in the kindling of their night-fires. But,—
Incidit in Scyllam qui vult evitare Charybdin:
for no sooner had the fires begun to blaze, than there issued forth from the hollows of the rocks myriads of bats, which, flittering hither and thither, struck against their faces, and stunned them with their obscene cries, until, no longer able to endure their clamour, they struck their tents and decamped. Virgil probably derived the idea of his famous description of the Harpies from some such adventure as this; for he had travelled a good deal in the Grecian islands, where bats, I believe, are numerous:
At subitæ horrifico lapsu de montibus adsunt
Harpyiæ, et magnis quatiunt clangoribus alas,
Diripiuntque dapes, contactuque omnia fœdant
Immundo: tum vox tetrum dira inter odorem.
Le Vaillant, who had a partiality for adventure, was here engaged in one which I must describe at some length. Leaving the greater number of his people encamped on the banks of the Elephant River, he had descended with a small detachment to the seashore. Here a whale was found, from which the Hottentots drew several skins of oil. The traveller, having been disappointed in his expectations of meeting with elephants on the right bank of the stream, concluded, with some degree of probability, that they had crossed the river, and taken refuge on the opposite side: he was therefore desirous of following them. But he was near the mouth of the river, which, at all times wide and rapid, had been exceedingly increased by the late rains, and now presented a formidable appearance. Unhappily, he was incapable of swimming, and for constructing a raft there was no time. After much consideration, therefore, it was resolved to attempt the stream in a novel mode. The trunk of a fallen tree was selected; the tent, with the garments of the Hottentots, was fastened upon its centre, the oil-skins at each end; while Le Vaillant himself, having suspended his watch and powder-flasks about his neck, and tied all their fowling-pieces on his shoulders, got astride upon the tree as soon as it was afloat. The Hottentots, having fastened strips of leather to the end of the trunk, then jumped into the water, and pushed off from the shore. They were four in number, and it was agreed that two should tow the tree along, while the other two pushed it forward from behind, taking these different offices in turn. As long as they remained in smooth water their progress was rapid. Nothing could appear more easy than their undertaking. They laughed, they jested with each other, and already thought themselves on the opposite shore. But their triumph was premature: for they had no sooner entered the current than the tree became unmanageable; now pitching forward upon the swimmers, now recoiling with invincible force against those who laboured to impel it from behind; dragging the former after it, submerging the latter in the waves. No jests were now heard. Every limb was plied, every nerve strained, to force a way through the impetuous current; every man exerted himself to the utmost; but the river rushed along with irresistible violence, and instead of making way towards the shore, they saw themselves hurried down by the stream towards the sea, where inevitable death awaited them. Meanwhile Le Vaillant perceived with dismay that their strength began to fail them. They breathed short, their strokes became irregular, their efforts grew fainter and fainter; yet they tugged desperately at the tree, apparently resolved at least to perish at their posts, and to share the fate of him whom they could not save. Still they drew nearer and nearer to the sea, and their hopes diminished in proportion. Observing this, the two men who had been placed in the rear sprang forward, and by their united strength endeavoured to force along the trunk. At length Le Vaillant thought he perceived a diminution in the violence of the current, and this discovery being communicated to the swimmers, they redoubled their efforts, and in a few minutes one of them found that he could touch the bottom. This he announced by a loud cry of joy, which was re-echoed by the others. They now began to recover their tranquillity, and pushing forward with vigour, were quickly landed on the shore. Here they joyously kindled an immense fire, and having along with them a small quantity of brandy, they drank it, dried themselves, and next day departed on their return to the camp.
Here fresh troubles awaited the traveller. His oxen were dying of hunger and fatigue; his followers were discouraged; even his own resolution was shaken. But the shame of succumbing to surmountable difficulties,—of entertaining a base fear of dangers which other men had braved,—of returning, in fact, baffled and defeated to the Cape, urged him forward, and he accordingly struck his tents, and moved once more towards the north. Courage and intrepidity are of vast importance in every circumstance of life, in none more so than in the circumstances in which an African traveller is placed; but these virtues will not draw wagons, or silence the murmurs of the appetite when clamouring for food. Le Vaillant was prepared to endure, and he cheerfully abandoned his chariots in the desert when oxen were wanting to drag them along; but he abandoned at the same time much of that merchandise with which he was accustomed to purchase the friendship and aid of the savage, and from that moment all rational hope of traversing the whole continent, from the Cape of Good Hope to the Mediterranean, vanished. He continued his journey, however, from the laudable desire of performing what he could, though what he had projected might prove impracticable.
Le Vaillant’s difficulties were far from being imaginary. Thirst, that most maddening of human privations, was now felt once more, and the parched herbage afforded neither nourishment nor cooling juices to the cattle. All their hopes now centred in those thunderstorms which, at certain seasons of the year, are common in southern Africa, and the jocular extravagance of Aristophanes, who represents men as cloud-worshippers, was now scarcely an exaggeration: for both our traveller and his followers almost bowed down in religious adoration to every cloud that sailed aloft in the blue firmament, and seemed to announce a tempest. At length vast masses of black vapour began to gather together in heaps over their heads, and to spread in sombre files along the sky. Flashes of lightning were perceived on the edge of the horizon; and all the forerunners of a storm successively presented themselves to their delighted senses.
It came at length. “I heard,” says the traveller, “the sound of some large drops, the happy precursors of an abundant shower. All my senses, dilated at once by joy and gladness, unfolded themselves to the vital influence. I crept out from under my covering, and lying down on my back, with my mouth open, I received with delight the drops which chanced to fall on me, every one of which seemed to be a refreshing balm to my parched lips and tongue. I repeat it, the purest pleasure of my whole life was what I tasted in that delicious moment, which had been purchased by so many sighs and hours of anguish. It was not long before the shower poured down from all sides; during three hours it fell in torrents, seeming in noise to rival the thunder, which all the while continued roaring over our heads. My people ran about in all directions through the storm, seeking for one another, with triumphant mutual congratulations for the drenching they experienced; for they felt themselves revived; and appeared as if desirous of inflating their bodies that they might thus offer a larger surface to the rain, and imbibe a greater quantity of it. For my own part, I enjoyed so delicious a pleasure in soaking myself like them, that, in order the longer to preserve the refreshing coolness, I would not at first change my dress, which I was at length, however, compelled to do by the cold.”
On the following night one of his followers disappeared, a circumstance which, as they were now in the country of the Bushmen, to whom it was possible the fugitive might betray them, was a source of peculiar uneasiness. However, after causing considerable alarm among the whole party, each of whom indulged a different conjecture, the man returned, announcing the discovery of a Hottentot kraal at no great distance. Towards this spot the whole party immediately proceeded, again and again quenching their thirst on the way, in reservoirs of crystal purity, which had been formed in the hollows of the rocks by the recent storm. Arrived, Le Vaillant found that the horde of which they had come in search was fortunately that of a man to whom he had been strongly recommended by a friend at the Cape. He was received with hospitality. The chief, flattered by the visit, undertook for a time to become his guide; and having generously and successfully exerted himself for the recovery of the chariots abandoned in the desert, and performed numerous other kind offices for his guest, the caravan was once more put in motion.
In the evening, on their arriving at the halting-place, Le Vaillant observed with surprise a tent, guarded by Hottentots, pitched a little in advance of him; and upon inquiry, found that it belonged to a M. Pinard, one of the individuals he had rejected at Cape Town. A presentiment of evil immediately flashed upon his mind. He regarded the tent with inquietude. Misfortune seemed to perch upon its summit. And in the sequel he learned, with vexation, how well-founded his apprehensions had been. However, for the moment, the encounter seemed to offer nothing but pleasure. Pinard was the bearer of letters from some of his dearest friends, and to a man of sound feelings a person thus armed is irresistible; but to an evil disposition the very counterfeiting of goodness is too painful long to be endured. Our Dutch adventurer, whose wealth chiefly consisted in brandy, a commodity which experience had taught him was omnipotent with Hottentots, seemed to consider his casks as too weighty, and habitually exerted himself in diminishing the burden. In one word, he was a drunkard; and having indulged himself with an extraordinary dose on the very evening of Le Vaillant’s arrival, the brandy-casks were abandoned to the Hottentots, and in a short time both camps were a scene of wild revelry and intoxication.
To those who have observed the manners of savages, whether in our own country or in the woods, it must be well known that the Circean transformations are not fabulous. Brandy has everywhere the power of changing men into beasts, and into beasts which are the more dangerous, inasmuch as they retain, under their new forms, a memory morbidly retentive, which seems to rejoice at its escape from the restraints of reason. Le Vaillant’s followers, having nothing to fear from the reproaches of decorum, now plunged into the delights of drunkenness with an avidity which appeared as if intended as an imputation on his want of generosity; for they considered his prudent economy as a niggardly doling out of a necessary of life, brandy being by them regarded in that light. Though he had given orders that the caravan should be put in motion at the break of day, the men, with the exception of Klaas and two or three of his companions, were all furiously intoxicated before the oxen could be yoked to the wagons. Even old Swanspoel, who had hitherto conducted himself with prudence, yielded to the seduction, and endeavouring with reeling steps to mount the wagon, his foot slipped, and he rolled under the wheel, which immediately passed over his body. Le Vaillant, who loved the old man, feared he had been crushed to pieces; but it was afterward found, upon examination, that he merely had two ribs broken; though this fracture caused him such terrible anguish on the road, that he conjured his master, with clasped hands, to blow out his brains with one of his pistols. As our traveller was utterly ignorant of surgery, it was necessary to leave the treatment of the fracture to nature. The pain, meanwhile, was excruciating, and in order to blunt its point, the old Hottentot continued to drink immoderate quantities of brandy, which, as it failed to kill him, obtained, in the sequel, the honour of a cure. In six weeks he was able to resume his occupations.
At length, after enduring his company with a patience which it were easier to praise than to imitate, he separated from Pinard. He now discovered another remarkable person, a sailor, who, having deserted from the Dutch navy, had retired into the wilderness, where he had adopted, as far as possible, the manners of a savage; married several wives, by whom he had numerous children, and laid the foundation of what might have proved a powerful horde. But this individual affords an example of how difficult it is for the civilized man, of whatever rank he may be, to retrograde; for, although possessed of considerable wealth, and, which is still sweeter, of independence, and the germs of power, he yearned after that society in which he must always be as nothing; and afterward, upon Le Vaillant’s obtaining him his pardon, deserted his harem, returned with his children to the colony, married, and sunk into the dull lethargy of ordinary Dutch life.
This man, whose name was Shoenmaker, became our traveller’s guide through the neighbouring regions. They continued still to advance towards the north, passed through the countries of the Lesser and Greater Namaquas, and arrived at length in the district in which the giraffe is found. Here all his ardour for the chase was at once revived by the sight of one of these animals’ skins, which, in one of the kraals he visited, served as a covering to a hut. A few days afterward, while he was admiring the nest of the constructor bird, one of his Namaqua guides came in great haste to inform him that he had just seen a giraffe browsing upon the leaves of a mimosa-tree. “In an instant,” says the traveller, “I mounted my horse, being intoxicated with joy, and causing Bernfry” (a deserter from the colony whom he encountered in the desert) “to follow my example, I hurried with my dogs towards the mimosa-tree. The giraffe was no longer there. We saw her crossing the plain towards the west, and put spurs to our horses in order to overtake her. She then got into an easy trot, but did not seem at all hurried. We galloped after her, firing at her from time to time; but she insensibly gained ground upon us in such a manner that, after continuing the chase for three hours, we were compelled to stop, our horses being out of breath, and we immediately lost sight of her.” He now found himself alone, at a distance from his camp; and, what was worse, knew not how to shape his course towards it. Meantime he suffered considerably from thirst and hunger; but having killed and cooked some birds, his wants were soon satisfied, and he had leisure for reflection. In the midst of his reveries he was found by some of his attendants, and conducted back to the camp. Next day the hunting of the giraffe was continued with equally bad success. On the third day seven of these animals were discovered, and immediately pursued by his dogs. “Six of them,” says he, “went off together; but the seventh, cut off by my pack, took a different direction. Bernfry, who happened just then to be on foot, immediately vaulted into the saddle, and set off in pursuit of the former. I pursued the latter at all speed; but in spite of the swiftness of my horse, she gained upon me so much that, on turning a small eminence, I lost sight of her, and gave up the chase. My dogs, however, had quickly overtaken her, and pressed her so closely that she was compelled to stop in her own defence. From the place where I was I heard them give tongue with all their might; but as their voices all appeared to come from the same spot, I conjectured that they had got the animal into some corner, and I again pushed forwards. As soon as I had turned the hill, I in fact discovered her surrounded by the dogs, and making desperate efforts to drive them off by heavy kicks. In a moment I was on my feet, and a single shot from my carbine brought her to the earth. Enchanted with my victory, I returned to call my people about me, that they might skin and cut up the animal. As I was looking about, I observed Klaas Bastard eagerly making signals to me, which I could not at first comprehend; but on turning towards the direction in which he pointed, I perceived a giraffe assailed by my dogs under an ebony-tree. Supposing it to be another animal, I ran towards it; but it was the same, which had risen again, and just as I was about to fire a second time dropped down dead.
“Who could have believed that a conquest like this would have excited me to a transport almost approaching to madness! Pains, fatigues, cruel privations, uncertainty as to the future, disgust sometimes as to the past—all these recollections and feelings fled at the sight of this new prey. I could not satisfy my desire to contemplate it. I measured its enormous height. I looked from the animal to the instrument which had destroyed it. I called and recalled my people about me. Although we had combated together the largest and the most dangerous animals, it was I alone who had killed the giraffe. I was now able to add to the riches of natural history; I was now able to destroy the romance which attached to this animal, and to establish a truth. My people congratulated me on my triumph. Bernfry alone was absent; but he came at last, walking at a slow pace, and holding his horse by the bridle. He had fallen from his seat, and injured his shoulder. I heard not what he said to me. I saw not that he wanted assistance; I spoke to him only of my victory. He showed me his shoulder; I showed him my giraffe. I was intoxicated, and I should not have thought even of my own wounds.”
He now paid a visit to the Kameniqua horde. His camp abounded with provisions; but his people, who had for some time been accustomed to the company of women, drew so many of these fair ones about them, that it was feared nothing else would be thought of. However, Le Vaillant was obliged to wink at this irregularity, to prevent the desertion of the whole body, and his complaisance, as it happened, drew after it no evil consequences. In proceeding through the country of the Greater Namaquas he arrived at a kraal, which had been thrown by the death of its chief into the utmost confusion, and, upon his making strenuous exertions to restore order, was himself elected chief. This dignity, however, he delegated to another, and had the satisfaction of observing, at his departure, tranquillity and good order taking the place of discord and bloodshed.
Our traveller now drew near the country of the most extraordinary people which he ever met with during his travels. These were the Hoozwanas, a nation by the Hottentots confounded with the Bushmen, but which, in the opinion of Le Vaillant, differed from them entirely; as while the latter were a collection of vagabonds from all nations, living in holes and caves, and subsisting chiefly by plunder, the former were as nearly as possible homogeneous. They differed in a remarkable manner from the Hottentots in being enterprising and brave, and enjoyed among their neighbours so great a reputation for these qualities, that their very name was a talisman which struck terror into all who heard it. For this reason Le Vaillant could not, in this instance, pursue his ordinary practice of sending forward native ambassadors or agents to prepare him a welcome reception among the horde. At the bare mention of the Hoozwanas his followers and allies felt their blood curdle with fear, and not only refused to advance before him, but endeavoured likewise to dissuade him from the attempt, which, in their opinion, could terminate no otherwise than fatally.
Le Vaillant, who remembered their vain terrors in the case of the Kaffers, was thoroughly convinced that their present apprehensions had no better foundation. His wagons and a considerable number of his attendants had been left encamped on the banks of the Gariep, or Orange River; he was now resolved rather to dismiss the remainder, and proceed alone, than shrink from his undertaking; and Klaas and five of his companions voluntarily engaging to undertake the expedition, he informed the remainder that they were at liberty to depart, their services being no longer required. But if they were afraid to advance, to retreat seemed no less terrible; so that, whipped into enterprise by their very fears, they one and all announced their readiness to follow the fortunes of their chief.
He therefore proceeded towards the north; but, while he despised the fears of his Hottentots, and somewhat doubted the correctness of their representations, he nevertheless considered it prudent to move along in a guarded manner, seeing that every thicket might contain an enemy. For some days silence and solitude prevailed around. There appeared no traces of man; or if any human beings ever started up in the distance, it was only to flit immediately away like phantoms among the rocks and sandhills, leaving behind them strong doubts of the reality of their apparition. Meanwhile their route led them over a burning desert, covered with saline dust, which, lifted up by the winds, entered their eyes and almost maddened them. The vehement heat of the sun, from which no contrivance could wholly shield them, likewise began to disorder their senses and their imaginations; so that, like mariners in a calenture, they saw mountains, green fields, or groves, or running streams, where in reality there was nothing but a prodigious plateau of scorching sand.
At length, upon halting in the evening, they observed, as the darkness came on, several vast fires among the peaks of the distant hills, which they doubted not belonged to the Hoozwanas. With this discovery all their old terrors returned. The watch, therefore, it may be easily imagined, was vigilant that night; and as soon as the morning appeared, Le Vaillant, taking a few of his attendants along with him, proceeded to reconnoitre. The scene which now presented itself was desolate beyond description. Steep ridges of barren rock, rising from a plain of sand, and broken into ravines, gullies, chasms, precipices; beyond a few stunted, miserable plants, no signs of life; while a dead silence brooded over all, save when the wild daman sent forth its shrill cry from among the rocks, or when the vulture or the eagle screamed aloft over their heads.
After a fatiguing march through these savage mountains, they reached a slender stream which flowed from a narrow opening in the rocks, and discovered upon its banks a small Hoozwana encampment. No persons but a few women were visible; but upon their uttering a cry of alarm, the men immediately rushed out, armed with bows and arrows, and taking their families along with them, retreated, and took up their position on a small eminence commanding their huts. Failing to make himself understood by the ordinary signs of friendship and good-will, he advanced towards their huts, deposited a quantity of beads and tobacco, and then retired to observe their movements. When they considered him at a sufficient distance, they returned, and upon examining the presents exhibited tokens of extraordinary satisfaction; but upon the approach of the traveller a second time they again retreated, though to a smaller distance than before. He now resolved to endeavour, by going forward alone and unarmed, to remove their apprehensions; and, taking in his hand a new present, he proceeded towards them. This manœuvre succeeded. One of the savages immediately came to meet him; and addressing him in the Hottentot language, demanded who he was, and whence he came. Le Vaillant replied that he was a traveller, desirous of examining the country, and, if possible, of finding friends in it. The man then came up to him. The Hottentots likewise drew near, and entered into conversation with the stranger, who, they found, belonged to their nation. Observing that no evil had befallen their friend, the remainder of the horde now joined the group, and were rendered, by a few trifling presents, as friendly and peaceful in their deportment as the least ferocious of the Hottentot tribes.
The manners of this people were remarkable. They remained in their rocky fastnesses, to which they were habitually confined by the hostility of their neighbours, as long as the gazelles, white ants, or locusts, which abound in those districts, afforded them provisions. When a scarcity happened, however, then wo to the surrounding nations. They stood upon the lofty summits of their mountains, and casting their eyes around, selected for the scene of their desperate foray the region which presented the richest aspect. Flocks and herds were seized, and killed upon the spot, or driven to the mountains, as circumstances required; but, unless when attacked and put in actual peril, the Hoozwanas abstained from shedding human blood. Their appearance, when engaged in war, was peculiarly striking. Naked, excepting that small portion of the body which instinct alone teaches man to conceal, they yet wore a species of helmet or war-cap on their heads, upon which there was a crest formed of the hyena’s mane. Though considerably below the middle size, their well-formed active bodies, and daring character, the evidence of which was deeply written in their countenance, admirably fitted them for warriors. In peace, however, no men could exhibit more gentleness, or regard for strangers; and our traveller observes, that had he attempted the traversing the African continent from the Cape to the Mediterranean, he should have chiefly founded his hopes of success on the active, faithful character of the Hoozwanas.
The Hoozwana women exhibited that peculiar conformation of the nates which is generally supposed to be a characteristic of the Hottentot race. With the latter, however, it is the growth of years, and commences only at a late period of life; while in the former it is a portion of the original form with which the infant is born, and which increases merely in proportion as the whole body is developed. Upon this strange projection mothers carry their children, which, when two or three years old, stand upon it as a footman does behind a carriage. But, notwithstanding that they were in this respect deformed, they possessed hands and arms of extraordinary beauty. They wore the war-bonnet and sandals like their husbands; but were in other respects naked, with the exception of a small apron. A small wooden, ivory, or tortoise-shell case hung by their side, in which they carried their ointment; and the tail of some small animal, fastened on a staff, served, instead of a pocket handkerchief, to wipe away the dust or perspiration from their faces.
Having spent some time in the country of the Hoozwanas, he bent his course towards his camp on the Gariep, his gallant hosts serving him as guides across the mountains. In the course of the journey one of the oxen threw from off its back the box of toys and cutlery, which, making a frightful clatter, terrified the animal, which ran off roaring in a furious manner. Le Vaillant, in endeavouring to force it back, found himself engaged in a dangerous adventure; for, instead of returning towards his companions, it rushed impetuously at the horse, which, springing suddenly aside, threw his rider and took to flight. The ox now rushed with stooping head at the traveller, who, having fortunately fallen with his musket in his hand, pointed his piece, and carefully levelling it at his enemy, fired, and shot him dead upon the spot.
This accident seemed to be merely the forerunner of that which happened immediately after his arrival at the camp. He had crossed the Gariep with his tents and baggage; but the oxen, never having seen so broad a stream, could by no means whatever be induced to attempt the passage. They resisted all the efforts of their drivers, and even their very blows seemed to render them more stubborn. It was therefore determined to take them farther up the stream, and renew their endeavours next morning. The herdsmen, however, rendered heedless or confident by the vicinity of the camp, fell asleep, and allowed their fires to die away. At this moment the Bushmen, who had been lying in wait for them, stole quietly into the circle, and, driving off the oxen, escaped, and before the break of day were already far on their way towards their secret haunts.
Next morning, early, Le Vaillant was suddenly awakened by Klaas, who informed him of what had happened; and counselled him to arm a number of his followers, and pursue the robbers. This advice was instantly adopted. He took thirteen of the bravest, and following the track of the oxen, which was visible enough upon the sand, during six hours, found that it struck off from the river. Here they passed the night. Next morning before day they continued the pursuit, and finding that the herd had been divided into two parts, pursued the track of the more numerous, not doubting that the division had been made merely for the purpose of distracting their attention. From a Hottentot village by which they passed they obtained two guides, who, being perfectly acquainted with the country, undertook to conduct them to the hiding-places of the Bushmen. They therefore again set forward, and after tracking the robbers for several leagues, found that they had crossed the river, in which they discovered the body of one of the oxen which had been drowned in the passage. The stream being here deep and rapid rendered the passage both difficult and dangerous. They, however, succeeded in gaining the opposite shore, but what was their vexation when, having ascended a short distance up the river, it was perceived that the artful bandits had again crossed, and were therefore on the other side. This manœuvre was repeated three times, for so frequently had the Bushmen crossed and recrossed the stream. But at length the track was lost in the path leading to a kraal, in which, therefore, they concluded the oxen must be concealed.
The guides, fearful lest their presence among the traveller’s attendants might occasion a war between these bandits and their nation, here demanded permission to remain behind during the attack upon the kraal, and their request was unhappily complied with. Le Vaillant himself, conceiving that darkness would be favourable to his views, resolved to defer the execution of his project until night. They accordingly encamped upon the spot, and a little after midnight set off in the greatest silence. “Soon afterward,” says he, “we perceived, at the distance of about three-quarters of a league, the light of several fires; and advancing a little farther, we heard songs, cries of joy, and immoderate shouts of laughter. The bandits were amusing themselves, and making good cheer at my expense. Their clamour, however, had one good effect; for my dogs began to set up so loud a barking on drawing near the kraal, that it became necessary to muzzle them, so that but for the frightful tumult within we should infallibly have been betrayed. I was now, therefore, in a state of warfare with savages, and resolved to employ against them the resources of art, should they oppose me with superior force. The moment not being favourable for commencing the attack, I put it off until the break of day, and in order to conduct it in the most advantageous manner, I intrenched myself and my troop behind a copse, which, by affording us an impenetrable shield against the attacks of our enemies, would render our own doubly terrible. The copse, in fact, was sufficiently extensive to contain and conceal all my musketeers; and each of us, by pushing aside or breaking off a few branches, immediately formed a sort of porthole through which we could fire. In this position we patiently and silently awaited the moment for action. The villains themselves appeared, by their conduct, to favour our views. Their noisy merriment died away by degrees; and at length, yielding to fatigue, they retired into their huts to rest, and the noise entirely ceased.
“The day soon appeared, when we discovered that the position we had taken up was too far from the kraal. Leaving our oxen, and my two horses, ready saddled in case of a defeat, behind the bushes, under the care of one of my people, we advanced, therefore, and posted ourselves within gunshot of the kraal. It was a considerable hamlet, consisting of not less than thirty or forty huts, and occupied the slope of a hill, behind which a range of high mountains swept round in the form of an amphitheatre. Though our muskets were all loaded, it was not my intention to commence hostilities with the effusion of blood. I designed merely to alarm the brigands, and by the consternation caused by a sudden attack, to compel them to take to flight. For this reason I commanded my followers to fire in the air, and on no account to take aim at a single individual unless by my express orders. I began the assault by firing my large carbine, the report of which, multiplied by the echoes of the neighbouring mountains, produced a terrible noise. We had persuaded ourselves that at the sound of this thunder the whole horde would fly in consternation, and my companions were preparing to augment their terrors by a general discharge. But, to our astonishment, not a creature appeared. It was in vain that we fired round after round; every thing remained calm, and I knew not what to conjecture. This security was merely apparent. While external appearances announced sleep and peace, every soul within was given up to terror and confusion. But by a stratagem to which they, no doubt, had been long accustomed, no one wished to appear before the whole body were armed; and it is probable that they communicated with each other by signals. When they were ready for battle, they all at the same moment rushed out of their huts, and advancing with frightful howlings towards us, let fly a cloud of arrows, which falling far short of their mark, we still replied to by firing over their heads. Observing that none of their party were hurt, they began to imagine that our muskets would not carry so far, and therefore uniting into one body, they came on with fury. We awaited the assault with firmness. My people, in the mean time, called aloud to them to restore my oxen. Whether they heard us or not I cannot determine; but they had now advanced so near that their arrows fell about us in showers. I now thought it full time to fire in earnest, and issuing my orders to aim at their bodies, we fired several volleys in rapid succession, and had very quickly the satisfaction to see this numerous band of men scattered about like emmets, flying in all directions, and uttering fearful shrieks, which were no longer, as at first, cries of valour and defiance, but the howlings of despair. Their wives and children had retreated, during the combat, to the summit of the hill, where the oxen were grazing; and it was thither that they now fled; whence, having rapidly collected the cattle, they plunged down into the hollow on the opposite side, and disappeared. Being well persuaded that, should they once reach the defiles of the mountains, all pursuit would be vain, I mounted my horse, and dividing my men into two bodies, directed one party to cut off their retreat on one side, while I myself with the remainder should attack them on the other. It was not many minutes before we discovered the savages hurrying down the hill towards a plain, in which there was a small wood; and, in fact, the greater number of them quickly disappeared a second time, but those who drove the cattle were necessarily more slow, and seeing us close upon their heels, they likewise took to flight, leaving the oxen behind them. At this moment my other detachment coming up, fired at them, and stretched one of their number upon the earth. The rest escaped.”
Having thus regained possession of his cattle, and fearing he might fall into some ambush laid for him by the savages, he hastened back to the kraal, where he found their own herd. In lieu of one of the oxen which had been killed and eaten, he took away a young cow and two sheep, and hurried towards the spot where he had left his Kameniqua guides. Here he was shocked by a very horrible spectacle. One of the men had been torn to pieces during the night, and the other likewise had suffered severely. They had, in fact, neglected to keep alive their fire, and had been attacked by a lion in their sleep. Le Vaillant caused them to be placed upon his horses, and carried along with them; but abandoned the dying man at the first halting-place. The other eventually recovered.
Though dogged all the way by the Bushmen, he reached his camp in safety, from whence, having now entirely abandoned the idea of traversing the African continent, he turned his face southwards, and directed his course towards the Cape. His constitution had considerably suffered during this journey, and he suddenly began to experience unequivocal symptoms of illness. While he was in this condition he encountered a white family, who, having endured signal misfortunes in the world, had succeeded in snapping asunder the links which ordinarily bind men to society, and were now, with a few Hottentot servants, and a wagon which contained all their worldly possessions, proceeding towards Namaqua-land in search of a better fortune than they had hitherto met with. Le Vaillant, who could easily read indolence and inactivity in the countenance of the father, was still deeply interested in his fate, by an air of goodness which accompanied the indication of those qualities; and anticipating the consent of the owner, he bestowed upon them a small house and ground in the vicinity, four sheep, a goat, a dog, together with a quantity of toys and cutlery, wherewith to purchase the friendship of the savages. With these riches they departed on their way, blessing the friendly hand which had enabled them to live in comfort, and praying for the happiness of him who, under Providence, had been the creator of theirs.
He now pushed forward to the banks of the Kansi, where his progress was put a stop to by a buinsy, accompanied by violent fever. This disease is generally mortal in Africa. Of this circumstance he was perfectly aware, and accordingly from the beginning began to fear the worst, and gave himself up for lost. But his followers, who, with ignorance of physic equal to his own, indulged more sanguine hopes, requested his permission to apply the only remedy known among them; and having obtained his consent, applied round his neck towels dipped in boiling milk, until the skin was nearly scalded off. This treatment was continued during three days; but finding no benefit from it, he abandoned the physicians, and resolved to leave the whole to nature. Meanwhile his condition was alarming. His throat and tongue were so much swelled that he could swallow nothing but a few drops of weak tea, and at length lost entirely the power of speaking, except by signs. The fears of his Hottentots were no less than his own. When Klaas or Swanspoel entered his tent, the other attendants would thrust their black woolly heads in after them, in the expectation of gathering from their looks whether there was still any hope. Such was the state of the case when several persons of the Lesser Namaqua horde arrived in the camp, among the rest a little man, who, when informed of the disorder of the chief, immediately undertook his cure. Our traveller, willing to make trial of every means within his power, permitted the Hottentot Æsculapius to treat him as he pleased; and had once more to endure a hot cataplasm on his throat, which, together with a gargle of sage-juice, formed the whole remedy. In the course of one night his freedom of respiration and the power of swallowing were restored, and in three days he was well.
This danger being over, Le Vaillant returned to the Cape, dismissed his Hottentots, and taking leave of his South African friends, set sail for Europe, July 14th, 1784. He arrived in Paris in the beginning of the January following, and from thenceforward his whole life was occupied in putting his collections in order, in compiling the account of his travels, and in composing the various works which he afterward published or left in MS. on the natural history of the birds and quadrupeds of Africa.—Though his occupations were thus simple and peaceful, he was not able during the stormy days of the Revolution to escape unsuspected; he was apprehended and imprisoned in 1793, and is supposed to have escaped the guillotine only by the fall of Robespierre. His habitual residence during the latter part of his life was on a small estate that he possessed at La Noue, near Sezanne. There, when not engaged in his literary labours, he amused himself with hunting; and in this manner he lived during nearly thirty years. He died on the 22d of November, 1824. During the whole of that time he had seldom quitted his retreat to visit Paris, except for the purpose of seeing his works through the press. His “Travels,” upon which his hopes of fame must chiefly rest, appear to have occupied him nearly eleven years, the first part having been published in 1790, and the second in 1796. It has often been asserted, says M. Eyriès, that these travels were compiled from the author’s notes by Casimir Varron but this is a mistake; he merely read the proof sheets for the purpose of correction, Le Vaillant not being sufficiently acquainted with the French language to enable him to confide in his own judgment.
It was Le Vaillant who first made the giraffe known in France, and the stuffed specimen in the king’s collection is the one which was brought over by him. His other works are, “The Natural History of the Birds of Africa,” of the parroquet, and of the birds of Paradise. The figures, designed under his inspection by Barraband, are said to possess great merit; and his scientific works occupy the first rank among books of that kind.