Twenty-Five Years in a Waggon in South Africa: Sport and Travel in South Africa

by Andrew A. Anderson

There were many Bastards at the time I first passed through, which I frequently had occasion to do on my journeys, and found them very civil and kind. Indeed, it would be difficult to find a class of people more attentive and well-disposed towards travellers than this class, so that it was quite a pleasure to meet them. They are good mechanics, and can repair a waggon as well as any colonial waggon-maker, as I have found when anything was required to be done to mine.

On the south of this territory, between it and the Transvaal, is that small slip of country under the petty captain Moshette, part of which is included in the Transvaal by the late Convention between the British Government and that Republic. This petty captain and the Koranna captain Moshoen have been the tools of the Transvaal Government to make war on Monkuruan and Montsioa, and it serves them right that they should lose their country. Moshoen lives at his large station at Maamuosa, situated on a white sandstone hill close to the Harts river; this stone is used by mill-owners for grinding their corn. The most unfrequented part of Montsioa’s country is that through which the river Molapo runs, to the westward of Maceby’s station, the course of which has already been described in the river system.

Eighteen years ago the plains swarmed with game, and lions also. I was travelling down from Kanya through the desert to Maceby, on my way to Conge kraal, north of Morequern. At Maceby’s there were Boers, each with a waggon, going to Morequern; the road I was travelling was the same. One of them, whom I had met before, asked if we should trek together, which was agreed to, until the roads separated seventy-five miles on, the distance to Conge being 125 miles; the only objection I had, was that they travelled at night, but as there were some very nasty places along the road and we could assist each other in case of accident, I agreed. On the third night from Maceby’s, we were travelling along over an open country, my waggon was the third in the line, and a Dutchman was the last; the night was stormy with a high wind, and very dark. Soon after inspanning in the evening, we knew lions were following us, but this occurs so often that we took no notice of it. But about eleven o’clock the oxen in all the waggons became very restless, and our foreloopers had difficulty to keep them on the road, calling out that lions were close.

The Boer behind my waggon had no forelooper, there was only himself with the waggon, which was empty. I was sitting on my waggon-box with my driver, and the forelooper leading the oxen. Soon after eleven we heard the after-waggon and oxen leave the road and make a rush across the veldt, towards a dry bed of a river, and heard the Boer call out to us to stop, which we did as soon as I could make those in front understand the case. We held to, and listened, but heard no sound of the Boer or anything else. The wind and rain coming on, we three, with our waggons, drew up in a line, and fastened the oxen to the trektow and waited until daylight, for it was useless and also very dangerous to go walking about in the veldt amongst low bushes, to look for the Boer or his waggon, where lions seemed to swarm; besides, we had as much as we could do to keep the lions from making an attack on our own oxen.

As soon as the first sings of daylight approached, the two Boers, a son, and myself, took our rifles and followed the spoor of the last waggon, which we found upset in the dry river, about 400 yards from the road, killing six of the oxen in the fall, and the other six had cleared themselves from their yokes, and strayed away out of sight, but no man was to be seen. Going back on the line the waggon took, we found the man’s hat and some distance beyond his long ox-whip, and a little blood, not far from it. There was then no doubt about his disappearance; the oxen had bolted, and the man to turn them on to the road had jumped off the waggon, when a lion had seized and carried him off. As the sun was now above the horizon, we gave orders for our boys to outspan, and then hastened on in the direction the lion’s spoor showed us he had gone. There was here and there blood on the grass, which led to a small clump of bushes and stones; here we found part of the remains and clothes, which were all torn to shreds, of the poor man, but no signs of the lions, for there must have been several by the footprints in the sand. We sent to the waggon for a spade and buried the remains of what small portion was left, and then took up the spoor,—to settle accounts with the lions,—which followed along a dry watercourse, which was crossed, and under a sand-bank with high grass we came upon them, a lion and lioness, and a young one, comfortably reposing. The two Boers and myself—all good shots—made very short work of the affair, knowing what they had done. It was arranged not to fire until we could make a dead shot, and all to fire at the lion; two in the first instance, the third to be ready if he showed fight, whilst the other two reloaded; but as the Dutchmen’s rifles carried heavy bullets,—eight to the pound,—their two shots did the work, for when the lion rose up to have a look at us, throwing back his ears and showing his teeth, both bullets entered his chest and he fell, but not quite dead; my third bullet in the region of his heart finished him. We then turned upon the lioness, who gave us much trouble before we could have an opportunity of a good shot; her endeavour was to escape, but this we could not quite agree to; however, a shot in the shoulder, and another in the neck, stopped her making any further attempt to get away, and enabled us to get up and complete the work. The Boers wanted the skins, which would delay us the day, therefore I went back to my waggon for breakfast, thinking it was no bad bag for so early in the morning. But before doing so we searched every bush and cover for the young lion without success; but in the afternoon, when the two Kaffir boys were skinning the lioness, the young one was seen not far off, and the Kaffir shot him. We then went down to the river to see what could be done with the waggon, the dead oxen, and those that had strayed away into the bush. After a time they were found and brought back; the waggon was too much smashed to remove. It had fallen over a steep bank fifteen feet deep. The Boers wanted to save the skins and the flesh of the dead oxen, which would take time, and as I could do no more good I arranged to start the next morning. We all took care to collect plenty of wood for great fires to be kept alight, and it was well we did, for we were serenaded with the lions’ music all the night; the surroundings seemed full of them, and also with wolves and jackals; the smell of the dead oxen brought them to our locality. However, bidding my friends good-bye, after breakfast I left for Conge. The second day after leaving them, we saw several lions as we passed along, but they were a long way from the waggon. In the afternoon, the next day, about 200 yards on our right from the road, we counted no less than seventeen large and small lions, some of them playing, others lying and sitting down; they took no notice of us, merely looked as we passed along, and we at them. We made a long trek after that, to get as far as we could from them before night, for however pretty they are to look at in their wild and native home, their proximity to the waggon on a dark night is not conducive to a good night’s rest. In four days after this we arrived at Conge, without seeing any more. I remained at this station two days, then left for Morequern. The chief and many of his people came to the waggon, with pumpkins, watermelons, milk, and eggs. I never met with a more quiet and orderly and well-behaved people than these Bechuanas. Very few traders visited these parts then. There was one after this who frequented this part of the country, and who blew himself up in his waggon, together with the missionary from Matetong and some twenty Kaffirs.

This was the last missionary that lived at that station, the house and grounds are in ruins, but there are some very fine willow trees still standing planted by Messrs Moffat and Campbell when the mission was first established.

Conge is eighteen miles from Morequern; the road the whole way is fearfully stony; a pan half-way is noted for guinea-fowl. The next day I arrived at Morequern, where I had to repair my waggon. A large pan divides two large kraals; on the east side an old blind chief lives, Makalawar or Makutse, a Baralong, and on the west, Maksetse.

As it would take some few days before the waggon would be ready, and as all the people at these large stations had always been kind to me whenever I came amongst them, I determined to send out an invitation to all the young Kaffir girls and young Kaffirs to a big dance. They were to come in their full dress costume. The reed band was engaged. The performance was to wind up with a large ox roasted whole, to be washed down with Kaffir beer. Three o’clock was the appointed time, at a large open space by my waggon. Long before that I had half the people round me, including little children. The young girls came decked out with a profusion of beads worked upon well-brayed leather, forming aprons, bracelets, necklaces, in every variety of form and design, very beautifully executed; bands of beads round their woolly heads and long pendants of beads for earrings setting them off to great advantage, each coming to me to show their finery, and seeming delighted to be praised for their good looks and fine ornaments, for invariably when young they have beautiful figures and expressive features. The young men also came dressed in their best clothes. The old people, with their chief and his counsellors, came to look on. In all about 500 assembled to do honour to the feast, and great rejoicings and fun characterised the meeting. Two reed bands came, thirty in each. Dancing and music commenced at four p.m. and continued up to feeding-time, when the ox was sufficiently roasted. Men were told off to cut up and divide it amongst the people. Nearly 100 little fires were made for parties to form round them, for Kaffirs can do nothing without a fire. Kaffir corn was cooked in pots in addition to the meat for their feast, and at nine p.m. dancing, music, and talking recommenced with undiminished joyousness, whilst, to complete the evening, I had a scramble from my waggon of a variety of articles of use to them—handkerchiefs, tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and other things, which caused an immense amusement. At twelve o’clock I told them to go home, for I must sleep; and in less than ten minutes all was quiet. Everything passed off pleasantly. This reed band is a great institution with these people. The following night the young men met as usual with the band at their large kraal. The night was not dark, as the stars give great light in this latitude. When they were in full play, and the women and children going round the performers, singing and clapping of hands, each one wearing a long kaross, which covered their figure, and a fur cap, their usual covering at night, I left my waggon, dressed like them, with a jackal kaross and tiger-skin cap, which concealed my figure and face, walked down and joined in the dance, which was maintained for some time, all the men sitting or standing beyond the circle looking on. A little girl caught a glimpse of my white face, which had become partly uncovered, when she screamed out and pointed to me. It was then no longer necessary to keep up the disguise; I therefore threw off my kaross. When they saw who it was, they joined in the fun, laughing and clapping of hands, and I was made to sit down and have a good drink of Kaffir beer. The next night or evening, before sundown, there was a dance of the married women, about seventy, dressed up in all kinds of strange figures. This was to celebrate the return of about thirty young girls to their homes, and about the same number of young men, who had passed through certain ceremonies after the Jewish custom, before the boys are admitted into the ranks with the men, and entitled to carry arms in war; and the girls before they are allowed to marry.

This custom is at a particular season. One or two old medicine-men will take those boys who are to be admitted to manhood into some secluded glen, where they remain for two or three months isolated from the rest of the people, no one being allowed to go near them during that time, the old men looking after their food; and at the appointed time they are allowed to return to the kraal. The young men are painted over with white clay for a certain number of days after the ceremony. Two or more old women take the girls also to some remote place, and when they return they also are covered with white clay, and, in addition, wear a short kilt made of reeds or grass, and a band of the same material crossing over the shoulders, meeting in front and behind, which are worn during a certain time at their kraals, when they assume their ordinary dress, and then are eligible to be chosen for wives. I was hunting one day near Cooe, and happened to ride down the river close upon a number of these girls and two old women, which caused a great commotion amongst them. I was told if they had caught me they were likely to kill me for trespassing into their sanctuary. All the Bechuana tribe have this ceremony. This region being far removed from any white people, the natives are much better behaved, and it was a pleasure to be amongst them. As a people they are quite alive to the ridiculous, and can understand a joke as well as any one. It was great fun to go out with the children and enter into games with them, which they so thoroughly enjoyed that when I arrived at their kraal again after many months, which I had frequently to do to pass through to other parts, my arrival was hailed with delight by the youngsters.

During my stay here I had a narrow escape from a lion. I was out with my rifle after some ostriches in the Kalahara, ten miles from Conge. Here and there were low bushes. I had run down one bird and fastened the feathers on the saddle before me. On my way home, on my right, about 300 yards, was what appeared to be a dead animal or an ostrich, I could not tell which, therefore I rode up and found it was a blue wildebeest or gnu, nearly half eaten. Turning my horse to the left to resume my journey, walking the horse past a bush close on my right, about fifty yards from the carcass, I came right upon a full-grown lion and lioness lying down. My horse caught sight of them first, made a spring which nearly threw me from the saddle, so sudden and unexpected was his movement. When he did this I saw the lion about to spring; but our movement was too sudden, and he lost his opportunity; in another moment the lion would have been upon us. When a couple of hundred yards was between us, I turned the horse round to have a good look at the splendid animal, as I knew he would not follow. Both were standing looking at me. It was now getting late in the day, therefore I lost no more time in looking after birds or lions. We were not ten feet from the lion when the horse made his spring, about as lucky an escape from the jaws of a lion as one could desire.