The cause of all these failures was chiefly to be found in the desert and inhospitable regions which lie between the explorers and the supposed lake, commonly known as the Kalahari desert. Toward the close of 1849, however, and when the hope of our being able to overcome this apparently insurmountable barrier was almost extinguished, the great object was accomplished by the persevering exertions of Messrs. Oswell, Livingstone, and Murray, and the existence was made known of a fine fresh-water lake in the centre of South Africa.
This important and highly interesting discovery at once opened a new and extensive field for the inquiries of the geographer and the naturalist, and gave a fresh impulse, to the enterprising and speculating spirit of the colonists of Southern Africa. The lake was described as a magnificent sheet of water, abounding in fish and hippopotami, and the country around as well stocked with elephants and other large game, while the vegetation was said to be on the most luxuriant scale. The discovery excited very considerable interest.
The Lake goes with the natives by different names—all of which are more or less appropriate—such as Inghàbé (the giraffe); Noka ea Botlètle (lake of the Botletle); Noka ea Mokoròn (lake of boats); and Ngami, or The Waters. As the last designation is the one by which the Lake is best known to Europeans, I will retain it throughout the remainder of this narrative.
As before said, on taking a nearer survey of the Lake, I experienced some disappointment as to its attractions. It is, however, indisputably a fine sheet of water, but in size is somewhat overrated, the estimation of its length alone being at one time considered no less than one hundred miles, and the width about fifteen or sixteen. The misconception may thus, perhaps, be accounted for. In the first instance, no person, to the best of my belief, has ever yet been quite round it; secondly, the shores—with the exception of the south and west sides—are low and sandy, and in hazy weather can not easily be distinguished; and, lastly, I am inclined to think that the discoverers mistook its length for its breadth, for, according to Cooly, “The travelers beheld with delight the fine river, and the Lake extending out of sight to the north and west.” Again, my friend Mr. Frederick Green, who visited the Lake shortly after its discovery, thus states, in his manuscript journal, the impression he experienced on first viewing it.
“The day after reaching the town of Batoani, we took a ride to view the Lake. From the southern side, we could trace the opposite shore some ten or twelve miles, but beyond that distance, and to the westward, we could not, even with the aid of a telescope, discern any sign of land—only a blue horizon of water. In a subsequent journey, however, and when traveling along its southern shores, I found that the opposite strand could always be seen. When first viewing it, we were not, as we then thought, looking across, but lengthwise.”
The whole circumference is probably about sixty or seventy geographical miles; its average breadth is seven miles, and not exceeding nine at its widest parts. Its shape, moreover, is narrow in the middle and bulging out at the two ends; and I may add, that the first reports received many years ago from the natives about the Lake, and which concurred in representing it of the shape of a pair of spectacles, are correct.
The northern shore of Ngami is low and sandy, without a tree or bush, or any other kind of vegetation within half a mile, and more commonly a mile. Beyond this distance (almost all round the lake) the country is very thickly wooded with various sorts of acacia indigenous to Southern Africa, the Damara “parent tree,” a few species of wild fruit-trees, and here and there an occasional baobob, which raises its enormous head high above the highest giant of the forest. The southern coast of the Lake is considerably elevated, and the water is so closely fringed by extensive belts of reeds and rushes that it is only accessible in a few places, or where the native cattle have broken through these natural defenses. The west shore of the Lake is also somewhat raised, though the water is very shallow; but it deepens considerably toward its eastern extremity.
The Ngami must have undergone very considerable changes at different periods. The natives have frequently pointed out to me places, now covered with vegetation, where they used to spear the hippopotamus. Again, there are unmistakable proofs of its having been at one time of smaller dimensions than at present, for submerged stumps of trees are constantly met with. This is not, I believe, to be attributed to the upheaving or to the sinking of the land, but that, in all probability, the Lake was originally of its present size, or nearly so, when a sudden and unusually large flood poured into it from the interior, which, on account of the flatness of the country, could not be drained off as quickly as it flowed in, but caused the water to rise above its usual height, which, remaining in that state some time, soon destroyed the vegetation.
Before the Lake was known, and when only rumors had reached us of its existence, the natives spoke of its waters as retiring daily to “feed.” But I am rather inclined to think they pointed to a singular phenomenon that I observed when navigating its broad waters, which I then attributed to the wind, though, on consideration, I suspect it was more likely to have arisen from the effects of the moon’s attraction.
When navigating the Lake, we were in the habit of landing every night to bivouac, always taking the precaution to unload the most important articles of our baggage. The canoes were then pushed in shore as far as the shallowness of the water would permit, and left to themselves, perhaps, as far as two hundred yards from terra firma. On remonstrating with the boatmen for not better securing our little flotilla, they replied that any further precautions were unnecessary, inasmuch as the water (which had already begun to ebb) would shortly recede and leave the canoes dry on the beach. I felt skeptical, but, nevertheless, allowed them to have their own way. In the course of the night it fell calm (a fresh breeze had been blowing during the day), and next morning we found that what the boatmen had predicted was fulfilled; the canoes were as far from the water as, on the preceding evening, they had been from the shore.