The men had also been much plagued by lions. One fine moonlight night, just as they had unyoked at the base of a small sand-hill, one of these animals appeared immediately above. After having eyed them for a moment, he dashed in among the goats, and, before the men could get their guns in order, he was out of harm’s way with one of the quadrupeds.
At another time, a lion made a rush at the cattle when at pasture, who fled precipitately into a defile, where, not finding an outlet, they faced about and confronted their fierce antagonist. The beast evidently dreaded the forest of bristling horns; for, after having paced to and fro at the entrance of the pass the best part of the night, keeping cattle and men in great tribulation by his savage growls, he slunk off toward morning.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Dispatch Cattle to the Cape.—Terrible Thunder-storm.—Trees struck by Lightning.—The Nosop River.—A Comet.—The Author nearly poisoned.—Some of the Men abscond; they return to their Duty.—Babel-like confusion of Tongues.—Game abundant.—Author shoots a Giraffe.—Meet Bushmen.—Unsuccessful Elephant-hunt.—Sufferings from Hunger.—Tunobis.—Game scarce.—Author and Steed entrapped.—Pitfalls.—The Men turn sulky.—Preparations for departure from Tunobis.—Vicious Pack-oxen.—Consequences of excessive Fatigue.—The Jackal’s handiwork.—Tracks of Elephants.—More Pitfalls.—Loss of the Anglo-Saxon Lion and the Swedish Cross.—Reach Ghanzé.
On the 1st of April I dispatched my cattle (three hundred and sixty in number) to the Cape, in charge of old Piet and Thomas Gibbons, William, and two or three Damaras. The first-mentioned was well accustomed to a large drove of oxen, and was the only one of the party in whom I had any confidence. Under such circumstances, it was perhaps natural that I should feel some misgivings about their safe arrival. But I placed my trust in that same Providence who had hitherto watched over the lonely stranger, firm in the conviction that whatever befell me or my property (both of which I was about to risk in the cause of humanity and civilization) would be for the best.
Fearing from experience that wagons would be only an incumbrance, and impede the dispatch, if not defeat the success of my expedition to the Ngami, I parted with them. As I knew, however, that the road as far as Tunobis was practicable for wheel carriages, I borrowed an old battered vehicle for the occasion, intending to send it back with Eyebrecht. Thence I purposed pursuing the journey with pack-and-ride oxen. This, though the most eligible plan, subjects the traveler to much hardship and inconvenience, from exposure to the inclemency of the weather, and the very small stock of provisions, &c., that can be conveyed.
Up to this period the men had worked well and willingly; but the day on which I bade farewell to the hospitable missionary roof (5th of April) Timbo became sulky, and expressed a wish to return to the Cape, from which I had some difficulty in persuading him. It was the first time I had real cause for being dissatisfied with the man, but not the last.
Four days after this little difficulty was got over, it came on to rain so tremendously that it seemed as if we were going to have another deluge. For three days and as many nights it continued to pour down with scarcely any intermission. The scriptural expression, “The windows of heaven were opened,” might indeed have been here realized. During the last twelve hours the thunder and lightning were truly appalling, and perfectly stunned and blinded us. Peal after peal, flash after flash, followed in rapid succession, reechoed and reflected from a hundred peaks. Trees were broken short off or torn up by the roots by the violence of the wind.
“The clouds,