CHAPTER VIII.
A hearty Welcome.—We remove the Encampment.—An Apparition.—Audacity of wild Beasts.—Depriving Lions of their Prey.—Excessive Heat.—Singular effects of great Heat.—Depart for Barmen.—Meet a troop of Zebras.—Their flesh not equal to Venison.—The Missionary’s Wall.—A sad Catastrophe.—The “Kameel-Doorn.”—Buxton Fountain.—The Scorpion.—Arrival at Barmen.
Immediately on our arrival at Richterfeldt we were surrounded by scores of natives, who, with yells, vociferations, clapping of hands, grotesque dances, and so forth, testified their joy at our return. Mr. Rath, moreover, highly complimented us on the dispatch with which we had broken-in the oxen and performed the journey.
Mr. Galton, I ascertained, had lately departed for Barmen, Mr. Hahn’s station. I determined to follow him as soon as I had taken sufficient rest after my fatiguing journey. In the mean time, the wagons were to remain at Richterfeldt till our return to that place.
At first we pitched our camp in the same spot we had occupied previously to our departure for Scheppmansdorf; but the high palisades that protected it had been destroyed in our absence by the natives, who had carried away the wood for fuel. This, however, was of little consequence, as the old inclosure would now have been too small to contain both the cattle and our cumbersome conveyances. Moreover, as the place was situated in the bed of a periodical stream, a tributary of the Swakop, and as the rainy season was fast approaching, it would have been imprudent to remain here any length of time. Accordingly, we brought our wagons, &c., to Hans’ own kraal, which was near at hand on the bank of the river, as there we should be perfectly secure in case of any sudden inundation.
The day before our removal, the men had asked and obtained permission to spend the evening with Hans at his encampment. Even the dogs had absented themselves, and I was thus left altogether alone. This night, though somewhat warm, was delightfully bright and still. To enjoy the beautiful weather, I had taken my bedding out of the wagon, and placed it on the ground alongside the wheels, facing a small clump of low tamarisk-trees, distant not above twenty paces. Being a bad sleeper, I lay awake until a very late hour. All nature was hushed and silent, and the night so calm that I might have heard the falling of a leaf. Suddenly my attention was drawn to the tamarisk grove, whence proceeded a low, rustling noise like that of some animal cautiously making its way through it. Thinking it probable that a hyæna or a jackal was about to pay me a visit, I sat up in my bed, and seizing my gun, which I invariably kept within reach, I prepared to give the intruder a warm reception. Imagine my surprise, however, when, instead of one or other of these skulking animals, a stately lion stood suddenly before me! In an instant my gun was pointed at his breast; but, hoping he would presently turn his broadside toward me, which would have given me a much better chance of destroying him, I refrained from firing. In this expectation, however, I was disappointed; for, on perceiving the wagons, he retreated a step or two, and uttering a low growl, vanished the next moment among the bushes.
There is something so grand and imposing in the appearance of the king of beasts in his native wilds, more especially when he assumes an attitude of surprise or defiance, that it is impossible not to feel more or less awed in his presence.
On mentioning to Mr. Rath, the following morning, my adventure of the preceding night, he expressed no kind of surprise, for the tamarisk grove in question was often known, he said, to harbor lions and other beasts of prey. He added, moreover, that lions not unfrequently penetrated thence into his garden, and even approached within a few paces of the dwelling-house itself.
Returning somewhat late one very dark night from Mr. Rath’s house to our encampment, I was suddenly startled by sounds of the most painful description, not unlike the stifled groanings of a person who is on the point of drowning. It at once struck me that the lions had surprised some unfortunate native while lying in ambush near the water for wild animals that came there to drink. While listening in anxious suspense to the wailings in question—which gradually became more and more faint—there reached me from another quarter a confused sound of human voices and of hurried footsteps. This only tended to confirm my first impression; but, from the impenetrable darkness, I could not ascertain any thing with certainty. Being unable, however, to endure the suspense any longer, and regardless of the danger to which I exposed myself, I caught up my fowling-piece, which happened to be loaded with ball, and set out in the direction whence the wailings, now fast dying away, proceeded.
I had not gone very far, however, before I fell in with a number of the natives, who were hastening in the same direction as myself.