Finding, however, that the cart could not conveniently hold all our baggage, though now reduced to the smallest quantity possible, it was resolved to pack a portion on oxen. These animals, on account of their great hardihood, are invaluable in South Africa; the more so, as they can be equally well used for draft, the “pack,” or the “saddle.” But as we had no cattle trained for either of these purposes, and only one or two were procurable at the missionary station, we were necessitated, prior to our departure thence, to break in a few. No easy matter, by-the-by; for oxen are of a wild and stubborn disposition, and it requires months to make them tractable. We were, however, totally at a loss how to set to work.
But fortunately, at this time, Mr. Galton had engaged a Mr. Stewardson, tailor by profession, but now “jack of all trades,” to accompany us up the country in the capacity of cicerone, etc.; and as this man, from long residence among the Hottentots, was thoroughly conversant with the mysteries of ox-breaking, to him, therefore, we deputed the difficult task.
At the end of a “riem,” or long leather thong, a pretty large noose is made, which is loosely attached to, or rather suspended from, the end of a slight stick some five or six feet in length. With this stick in his hand, a man, under shelter of the herd, stealthily approaches the ox selected to be operated on. When sufficiently near, he places the noose (though at some little distance from the ground) just in advance of the hind feet of the animal; and when the latter steps into it, he draws it tight. The instant the ox finds himself in the toils, he makes a tremendous rush forward; but, as several people hold the outer end of the “riem,” he—in sailor language—is quickly “brought up.” The force of the check is indeed such as often to capsize one or more of the men. He now renews his efforts; he kicks, foams, bellows; and his companions, at first startled, return and join in chorus; the men shout, the dogs bark furiously, and the affair becomes at once dangerous and highly exciting. The captured animal not unfrequently grows frantic with rage and fear, and turns upon his assailant, when the only chance of escape is to let go the hold of the “riem.” Usually he soon exhausts himself by his own exertions, when one or two men instantly seize him by the tail, another thong having also been passed round his horns; and by bringing the two to bear in exactly opposite directions, or, in other words, by using the two as levers at a right angle with his body, he is easily brought to the ground. This being once effected, the tail is passed between his legs and held forcibly down over his ribs, and the head is twisted on one side, with the horns fixed in the ground. A short, strong stick, of peculiar shape, is then forced through the cartilage of the nose, and to either end of this stick is attached (in bridle fashion) a thin, tough leathern thong. From the extreme tenderness of the nose he is now more easily managed; but if he is still found very vicious, he is either packed in his prostrate position, or fastened with his head to a tree, while two or three persons keep the “riem” tight about his legs, so as to prevent him from turning round or injuring any person with his feet. For the “packing,” however, a more common and convenient plan is to secure him between two tame oxen, with a person placed outside each of these animals.
For the first day or two, only a single skin, or empty bag, is put on his back, which is firmly secured with a thong eighty or ninety feet in length (those employed by the Namaquas for the same purpose are about twice as long); but bulk as well as weight is daily added; and though he kicks and plunges violently, and sometimes with such effect as to throw off his pack, the ox soon becomes more tractable. Strange enough, those who show the most spirit in the beginning are often the first subdued. But an ox that lies down when in the act of “packing” him generally proves the most troublesome. Indeed, not one in ten that does so is fit for any thing.
I have seen oxen that no punishment, however severe, would induce to rise; not even the application of fire. This would seem a cruel expedient; but when it is remembered that his thus remaining immovable is entirely attributable to obstinacy, and that a person’s life may depend on getting forward, the application of this torture admits of some excuse.
But even when, at last, he has been trained to carry the pack or the saddle, there is another difficulty, scarcely less formidable, to overcome. From the gregarious habits of the ox, he is unwilling either to proceed in advance of the rest, or to remain at any distance behind his comrades; and if there is no one to lead, the whole troop will instantly come to a stand-still. Only a few can be trained as leaders. Such animals are always selected as have a quick step, and of themselves are in the habit of keeping ahead, and apart from the rest of the herd. Oxen of this description at all times hold the first rank in a traveling caravan.
At length, after great exertions and endless delays, we were able to fix upon the day for our departure. Our arrangements were as follows: On the cart, which was drawn by eight mules, we placed about one thousand pounds, consisting chiefly of guns, presents for chieftains and others, articles for barter, implements of natural history, bedding, &c. Six hundred weight (ammunition and provisions) were besides distributed among four “pack”-oxen and one mule.
The object of the expedition being entirely for the purpose of obtaining cattle for draft and slaughter, we were given to understand that after about eight to ten days’ journey we should arrive at some native villages, where we might procure any number of beasts required. Our course, as far as we could understand, was to the northeast, and through an exceedingly wild and sterile part of the country.
On the morning of the 19th of September we left Scheppmansdorf. The young cattle proved exceedingly unmanageable; and we had not been on the road many minutes before a small handsome ox, which from the very beginning had given us much trouble in breaking-in, left the herd, and was apparently about retracing his steps to the missionary station. To prevent this, Galton and I endeavored to head him, on which he set off at a rapid pace. On finding himself hard pressed, however, he suddenly wheeled round and rushed toward my friend at headlong speed. Thinking it merely a demonstration, Mr. Galton remained stationary; but by so doing he nearly lost his life, for the infuriated beast charged home. Fortunately, however, his horn merely grazed my friend’s leg, though it inflicted some injury on the shoulder of the horse.