The chief stronghold of the Red Nation is about the Kubakop, but a part of the tribe is settled on the Fish River. Taken as a whole, they possess probably the worst portion of the northern part of Great Namaqua-land. They call themselves Kaikhous, a word signifying large ridges of hills, in contradistinction to Zwartbooi’s tribe, the name of which is Kharikhous, or small ridges. They look upon Jonker and his people, who are known as “Oerlam,” not only with jealousy, but with something akin to contempt.
I found but few Damara slaves among the Red Nation, which at first struck me as singular, for their outrage on the Damaras was, at least, of equal extent to that perpetrated by the rest of the northern Namaquas. I could only explain this by supposing that they killed their prisoners. I afterward learned that my conjecture was correct, and that, having surrounded a werft, they coolly shot down every soul, women and children not excepted. However, having lately discovered that the Damaras make useful drudges, they have, from interested motives, become less bloody-minded.
While staying with Cornelius I was attacked by ophthalmia, and for a few days suffered great agonies, but, fortunately, before the disease had arrived at its maximum, it took a favorable turn.
Having succeeded in disposing of the greater part of our goods, we took leave of our host, and bent our steps toward Rehoboth, which was on our road to the Cape. The day after our departure we met with vast numbers of the larvæ of the locust (gryllus devastator, Lich.), commonly called by the Boers “voet-gangers,” literally, foot-goers. In some places they might be seen packed in layers several inches in thickness, and myriads were crushed and maimed by our wagon and cattle. Toward nightfall they crawled on to the bushes and the shrubs, many of which, owing to their weight and numbers, were either bowed down to the ground or broken short off. They were of a reddish color, with dark markings, and, as they hung thus suspended, they looked like clusters of rich fruit. As they hopped along the path and among the grass, their appearance was no less curious and striking.
These “voet-gangers” are justly dreaded by the colonists, as no obstacle seems capable of staying their progress. They are said to cross stagnant pools—ay, even the Orange River—by the leading multitudes throwing themselves heedlessly into the water, where they are drowned, thus affording the survivors a temporary bridge. Fires, which are lighted in their path in the hope of staying their course, are extinguished by their myriads. “All human endeavors to diminish their numbers,” says a recent author, “would appear like attempting to drain the ocean by a pump.”
As we traveled on next morning we encountered the locust itself, and in such masses as literally to darken the air.
“Onward they came, a dark continuous cloud
Of congregated myriads numberless,
The rushing of whose wings was as the sound
Of a broad river, headlong in its course