Hans ate very little animal food, but, whenever he could afford it, he drank an amazing quantity of tea and coffee. His chief nourishment, however, was thick sour milk, which he swallowed in gallons. It is wonderful how people thrive on this diet, which is the main sustenance of the Damaras, who, as has been already said, are remarkably fine-looking men.
Hans, on the proposal being made to him by Mr. Galton, agreed to accompany us in the capacity of head man, and we were truly fortunate to secure so able and practiced a hand. Indeed, from after-experience, it is very doubtful whether we should have been able to get on without him. We had, moreover, found that it would be next to impossible to obtain from the natives, by barter, any considerable number of cattle; and, even had we succeeded, they would have been so wild and unmanageable that we could not have made use of them for months. Now, as Hans had a small drove of his own, several of which were already broken-in, and the rest more or less tractable, and was willing to part with them at a moderate price, Mr. Galton secured the whole lot without a moment’s hesitation, and thus we had overcome a difficulty which had long given us some uneasiness.
Hans had in his employ an English lad named John Allen, who had also been a sailor, and who, like his master, had left his ship in Walfisch Bay. In the absence of his employer, John had been accustomed to take charge of the cattle and the house; and, being an excellent and well-behaved youth, he also was admitted into Mr. Galton’s service.
After a few day’s rest, it was determined that Hans and myself, together with most of the people, should return to Scheppmansdorf for the purpose of breaking-in the oxen, and bringing up the wagons and the stores.
Hans presented me with an ox called “Spring,” which I afterward rode upward of two thousand miles. On the day of our departure he mounted us all on oxen, and a curious sight it was to see some of the men take their seats who had never before ridden on ox-back. It is impossible to guide an ox as one would guide a horse, for in the attempt to do so you would instantly jerk the stick out of his nose, which at once deprives you of every control over the beast; but by pulling both sides of the bridle at the same time, and toward the side you wish him to take, he is easily managed. Your seat is not less awkward and difficult; for the skin of the ox, unlike that of the horse, is loose, and, notwithstanding your saddle may be tightly girthed, you keep rocking to and fro like a child in a cradle. A few days, however, enables a person to acquire a certain steadiness, and long habit will do the rest.
Ox-traveling, when once a man is accustomed to it, is not so disagreeable as might be expected, particularly if one succeeds in obtaining a tractable animal. On emergences, an ox can be made to proceed at a tolerably quick pace; for, though his walk is only about three miles an hour at an average, he may be made to perform double that distance in the same time. Mr. Galton once accomplished twenty-four miles in four hours, and that, too, through heavy sand!
Early one morning we reached Annis Fountain, where, as on a previous occasion, we observed a number of rhinoceros tracks. Leaving the men to take care of the oxen, Hans, Stewardson, and myself selected the freshest “spoor,” and started off in pursuit; but after several hours’ hard walking under a burning sun, we were apparently as far from the quarry as ever, and Stewardson, who was quite knocked up, used his best endeavors to persuade us from proceeding farther. We would not listen to him, however, but, allowing him to return to the encampment, continued to toil on, though with but little hope of success.
An hour might have elapsed after we had thus parted from Stewardson when I observed in a distant glen a dark object, which, as it excited my suspicion, I instantly pointed out to Hans, who would not believe that it was any thing but a large “boulder.” Nevertheless, we proceeded toward the spot, and I soon saw that the shapeless mass was nothing less than the rhinoceros of which we were in search. Hans, however, who had had frequent opportunities of seeing this animal in all positions, remained skeptical on the point, and it was not till we were within about twenty paces of the beast that his doubts were removed. With noiseless and quickened step, and our guns on the fullest cock, we made up to the monster, which still gave no signs of life. At last, however, one of us whistled, on which, and with the rapidity of thought, the beast sat up on its haunches, and surveyed us with a curious and sulky look. But it was only a moment; for, before he had time to get on his legs, two well-directed balls laid him prostrate within less than half a dozen paces of our feet.
In the pride of success, I somewhat foolishly leaped upon his back, and, African-like, plunged my hunting-knife into the flesh, to ascertain if our prize was fat. But whether life was not altogether extinct, or that the sudden access of my weight caused a vibration in the lately-living body, certain it is that I felt the beast move under me, when, as may be supposed, I speedily jumped to the ground again, and made off. Though my apprehensions in this instance were groundless, the following anecdote, related to me by the natives, will show that there is considerable danger in too quickly approaching an apparently dead rhinoceros:[9]