At an early hour the next morning we were on the move. The air being cool, we proceeded briskly. About noon some Bushmen were observed digging roots; but they only allowed us to approach within shouting distance. We managed, however, to hold some little conversation with them, and learned that water was not far off. They warned us to proceed with caution, as the whole river-bed in advance was undermined with pitfalls. And true enough; for, before being aware of it, we found ourselves entrapped in a maze of yawning chasms, down some of which bipeds and quadrupeds went together in the most amicable confusion. However, being partially prepared for the event, and traveling at a slow pace, we escaped with a few bruises. To prevent a recurrence of the mischief, a man or two proceeded in advance, and unmasked the remainder. They were constructed on the same principle as the one into which I had a short time previously been so unceremoniously precipitated.
At two o’clock P.M. we came to a halt by a well of clear, good water. Within gun-shot of this place was a “salt-lick,” much frequented by wild animals, such as rhinoceroses, giraffes, gemsboks, koodoos, elands, gnoos, &c.; but I preferred to devote the ensuing night to rest and astronomical observations rather than lying in ambush for game.
At an after period I had some good sport in this locality, as also some spirited chases after elands. But space prevents me from entering into details.
The Otjombindè, without materially taking us out of our direct route, had thus far befriended us; but, if I wished to reach the Lake, it was now out of the question any longer to follow this river, as hence it pursued too southerly a course. According to the advice of the Bushmen, therefore, we now left it to the right, and struck out in a northerly direction through an intensely dense “Wacht-een-bigte” (thorn-jungle). After a few hours’ travel, “we packed-off” to the eastward of some dilapidated limestone pits; but, though they contained water, from the depth of the cavities, and the difficulty of access to them, it occupied the men several hours to supply the wants of our small herd of cattle. The next stage—a short one—we slept without water.
In the course of the following day’s march we had traversed dense brakes which annoyed us excessively, for the thorns not only tore our flesh and clothes, but subtracted several articles of value from the pack-saddles. Among other losses, I had to bewail that of two magnificent flags—the British and the Swedish—which had been expressly made for and presented to me by my friend, Mr. Letterstedt, the Swedish consul-general at the Cape, and which I hoped to have unfurled on the shores of the far-famed Ngami. All my efforts to recover these valued standards proved fruitless, some hyænas having probably swallowed the Anglo-Saxon Lion and the Swedish Cross.
At dusk, after having been ten hours in the saddle, we reached a famous place called Ghanzé, where we pitched our camp.
CHAPTER XXX.
Ghanzé.—Spotted Hyæna.—The Rhinoceros.—Where found.—Several Species.—Description of Rhinoceros.—Size.—Appearance.—Age.—Strength.—Speed.—Food.—Water.—The Young.—Affection.—Senses.—Disposition.—Gregarious.—Indolence.—Domestication.—Flesh.—Horns.—The Chase.—Mr. Oswell’s Adventures with Rhinoceroses.—A Crotchet.—Where to aim at the Rhinoceros.—Does not bleed externally when wounded.—Great numbers slain annually.
Ghanzé, according to the interpretation of my Griqua, signifies very large, and yet very small. Absurd as this explanation may appear, there is, nevertheless, some aptness in it. The “very large” means that from the moisture of the ground there is an indication of much water, while the real quantity is trifling. Ghanzé is a peculiar and dreary-looking place, consisting of an extensive hollow with innumerable small stones scattered over its surface, and one side fenced by a natural limestone wall three to five feet in height. The whole is hemmed in with thorn coppices intersected by numerous footpaths, the work of those huge creatures, the elephant and the rhinoceros, who have probably wandered here for ages in undisputed sway. Here and there an “iron-tree,” the mythological progenitor of the Damaras, stands majestically forth, shooting its wide-spreading branches high into space.